Death!
stern, terrible, and with no soft hand, no gentle voice, to soothe his
fevered brow, and calm his troubled soul and bid it hope in God. _(Harry
sits down and covers his face with his hands)_ Death overtook him thus;
and there, in the midst of the mountain forest, surrounded by Indian
tribes, they scooped him a grave in the sand; and without a shroud or
coffin, prayer or hymn, they laid him down in the damp earth to his final
slumber. Thus died and was buried the only son of a proud father; the only,
idolized brother of a fond sister. There he sleeps to-day, undisturbed, in
that distant land, with no stone to mark the spot. There he lies--_my
father's son_--MY OWN TWIN BROTHER! A victim to this _(holds up the
glass before the company)_ deadly, damning poison! Father! _(turning
to the judge,)_ father, shall I drink it now?
JUDGE OTIS--_(Raising his bowed head and speaking with faltering
voice)_--No, no, my child! in God's name, cast it away.
MARION--_(Letting her glass fall and dash to pieces)_--Let no friend
who loves me hereafter tempt me to peril my soul for wine.
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