HALIDON HILL. SCOTT's dramatic compositions are his least successful efforts; indeed, they are dramatic only in appearance, and neither in spirit nor construction. Besides the translation of "Goetz von Berlichingen," which appeared in 1799, Scott wrote four plays: "The House of Aspen" (which was indeed partly a translation from the German), published in 1830, though composed some thirty years before; “Halidon Hill," written and published in 1822; “The Doom of Devorgoil," and "The Ayrshire Tragedy," which came out together in 1830. Of these "The House of Aspen" and "The Doom of Devorgoil" were undoubtedly intended for the stage. The first was offered to Kemble, who at one time thought of playing it, but was afraid of the "blood and thunder" character of some parts of it. "The Doom of Devorgoil" was composed for Scott's friend, Terry, but was found unfit for representation on account of the supernatural machinery of the plot. "Halidon Hill” and "The Ayrshire Tragedy are purely dramatic sketches, written without any reference to the theatre; indeed, in his preface to the former Scott expressly gave warning that the drama (if it can be termed so) is in no particular either designed or calculated for the stage. We have selected a scene from "Halidon Hill," chiefly as a specimen of Scott's blank verse. The work is "designed," the author tells us, "to illustrate military antiquities and the manners of chivalry." The plot is taken with some modification from Scottish history, the battle of Homildon Hill (1402) being transferred to Halidon Hill, an imaginary Regent being introduced, and some private traditions of the Swinton family, with which Scott was connected, being worked into the story. The action of the piece turns on young Gordon's generous resolve to forgive a desperate family feud, in which his father had fallen by Swinton's hand, and range himself under the command of the latter, on hearing his offer to lead the Scottish soldiers in a fresh charge against the English, who had already routed them. Only a small band followed the brave warrior and his new found friend, who were both slain in the fight. HALIDON HILL. Tumults behind the A part of the Field of Battle betwixt the two Main Armies. 99 66 Enter, as victorious over the English vanguard, VIPONT. 'Tis sweet to hear these war-cries sound together,- REYNALD. 'Tis passing pleasant, yet 'tis strange withal. Faith, when at first I heard the Gordon's slogan Enter SWINTON and GORDON. SWINTON. Pitch down my pennon in yon holly-bush. GORDON. Mine in the thorn beside it; let them wave, SWINTON. Let the men rally, and restore their ranks Reynald, spur to the Regent with the basnet GORDON. And tell him that when Selby's headlong charge Went to so many shivers. -Harkye, grooms! [To those behind the scenes. Why do you let my noble steed stand stiffening After so hot a course? SWINTON. Ay, breathe your horses, they'll have work anon, VIPONT. It is because I hold a Templar's sword Wet to the cross'd hilt with Christian blood. SWINTON. The blood of English archers—what can gild VIPONT. Even therefore grieve I for those gallant yeomen, Known in no other land. Each boasts his hearth And field as free as the best lord his barony, Save to their King and law. Hence are they resolute, As men who know the blessings they defend. Hence are they frank and generous in peace, As men who have their portion in its plenty. SWINTON. I'll keep my sorrow for our native Scots, GORDON. And if I live and see my halls again, They shall have portion in the good they fight for. His household hearth and sod-built home, as free They shall be happy!— smile to see it!— SWINTON. Do not believe it. Vipont, do thou look out from yonder height, [Exit VIPONT. Now will I counsel thee; The Templar's ear is for no tale of love, And its rich painting, do seem then most glorious GORDON. Must I then speak of her to you, Sir Alan? SWINTON. Thy father in the paths of chivalry I would, nay must. Should know the load-star thou dost rule thy course by. GORDON. Nay, then, her name is-hark SWINTON. I know it well, that ancient northern house. [Whispers. GORDON. O, thou shalt see its fairest grace and honour SWINTON. It did, before disasters had untuned me. GORDON. O, her notes Shall hush each sad remembrance to oblivion, Or wake the knight to battle; rouse to merriment, Bless'd privilege Of youth! There's scarce three minutes to decide [Enter VIPONT. Where are thine, De Vipont? VIPONT. On death-on judgment-on eternity! For time is over with us. SWINTON. There moves not, then, one pennon to our aid, Of all that flutter yonder ! VIPONT. From the main English host come rushing forward |