Be Mowbray’s sins so heavy in his bosom, That they may break his foaming courser’s back, And throw the rider headlong in the lists, A caitiff recreant!

RICHARD II

Our scene now returns to the exterior of the Castle, or Preceptory, of Templestowe, about the hour when the bloody die was to be cast for the life or death of Rebecca. It was a scene of bustle and life, as if the whole vicinity had poured forth its inhabitants to a village wake, or rural feast. But the earnest desire to look on blood and death, is not peculiar to those dark