Thane, Duke, or dignitary, brings no more:
And with them brought I what may here be useful-
An aged eye; which, what in England, Scotland,
Spain, France, and Flanders, hath seen fifty battles,
And ta'en some judgment of them; a stark hand too,
Which plays as with a straw with this same mace,—
Which if a young arm here can wield more lightly,
I never more will offer word of counsel.

Len. Hear him, my Lord; it is the noble Swinton-
He hath had high experience.

Max.

He is noted

The wisest warrior 'twixt the Tweed and Solway,-
I do beseech you, hear him.

When the main battle joins.

Swin. It ne'er will join, while their light archery
Can foil our spearmen and our barbed horse.
To hope Plantagenet would seek close combat
When he can conquer riskless, is to deem
Sagacious Edward simpler than a babe
In battle-knowledge. Keep the hill, my Lord,
With the main body, if it is your pleasure;
But let a body of your chosen horse
Make execution on yon waspish archers.
I've done such work before, and love it well;

If 'tis your pleasure to give me the leading,
The dames of Sherwood, Inglewood, and Weardale,

John. Ay, hear the Swinton-hear stout old Sir Alan; Shall sit in widowhood and long for venison,

Maxwell and Johnstone both agree for once.
Reg. Where's your impatience now?

Late you were all for battle, would not hear
Ourself pronounce a word—and now you gaze
On yon old warrior, in his antique armour,
As if he were arisen from the dead,

[ye

To bring us Bruce's counsel for the battle.
Swin. 'Tis a proud word to speak; but he who fought
Long under Robert Bruce, may something guess,
Without communication with the dead,
At what he would have counsell'd.—Bruce had bidden
Review your battle-order, marshall'd broadly
Here on the bare hill-side, and bidden you mark
Yon clouds of Southron archers, bearing down
To the green meadow-lands which stretch beneath
The Bruce had warn'd you, not a shaft to-day
But shall find mark within a Scottish bosom,
If thus our field be order'd. The callow boys,
Who draw but four-foot bows, shall gall our front,
While on our mainward, and upon the rear,
The cloth-yard shafts shall fall like death's own darts,
And, though blind men discharge them, find a mark.
Thus shall we die the death of slaughter'd deer,
Which, driven into the toils, are shot at ease
By boys and women, while they toss aloft
All idly and in vain their branchy horns,

As we shall shake our unavailing spears.

And long in vain.

burn,

Whoe'er remembers Bannock

And when shall Scotsman, till the last loud trumpet,
Forget that stirring word!-knows that great battle
Even thus was fought and won.

Len. This is the shortest road to bandy blows;
For when the bills step forth and bows go back,
Then is the moment that our hardy spearmen,
With their strong bodies, and their stubborn hearts,
And limbs well knit by mountain exercise,
At the close tug shall foil the short-breathed Southron.
Swin. I do not say the field will thus be won;
The English host is numerous, brave, and loyal;
Their Monarch most accomplish'd in war's art,
Skill'd, resolute, and wary-

Reg. And if your scheme secure not victory,"
What does it promise us?

Swin.
This much at least,-
Darkling we shall not die: the peasant's shaft,
Loosen'd perchance without an aim or purpose,
Shall not drink up the life-blood we derive
From those famed ancestors, who made their breasts
This frontier's barrier for a thousand years.
We'll meet these Southron bravely hand to hand,
And eye to eye, and weapon against weapon;
Each man who falls shall see the foe who strikes him.
While our good blades are faithful to the hilts,

Reg. Tush, tell not me! If their shot fall like hail, And our good hands to these good blades are faithful, Our men have Milan coats to bear it out.

Blow shall meet blow, and none fall unavenged

We shall not bleed alone.

[MS." guard as thick."]

* [“The generous abandonment of private dissension, on the part of Gordon, which the historian has described as a momentary impulse, is depicted by the dramatist with great skill and knowledge of human feeling, as the result of many powerful and conflicting emotions. He has, we think, been very successful in his attempt to express the hesitating, and sometimes retrograde movements of a young and ardent mind, in its transition from the

first glow of indignation against his hereditary foeman, the mortal antagonist of his father, to the no less warm and generous devotion of feeling which is inspired in it by the contemplation of that foeman's valour and virtues."-British Critic.

3

[MS. "For this one day to chase our country's curse
From your vex'd bosoms, and think no one enemy
But those in yonder army-days enow,
Ay, days," etc.]

[In the MS. this speech and the next are interpolated.]

[MS. "But, once extinguish'd, it is quench'd for ever, And spring shall hide the blackness of its ashes."]

And could not, if he would. I know my value.
My heavy hand excuses my light tongue.
So men wear weighty swords in their defence,
Although they may offend the tender shin,
When the steel-boot is doff'd.

Abbot.
My Lord of Chandos,
This is but idle speech on brink of battle,
When Christian men should think upon their sins;
For as the tree falls, so the trunk must lie,
Be it for good or evil. Lord, bethink thee,
Thou hast withheld from our most reverend house,
The tithes of Everingham and Settleton;
Wilt thou make satisfaction to the Church

Before her thunders strike thee? I do warn thee

In most paternal sort.

Chan. I thank you, Father, filially.
Though but a truant son of Holy Church,

I would not choose to undergo her censures,
When Scottish blades are waving at my throat.
I'll make fair composition.

Abbot. No composition; I'll have all, or none.
Chan. None, then-'tis soonest spoke. I'll take my
And trust my sinful soul to Heaven's mercy, [chance,
Rather than risk my worldly goods with thee-
My hour may not be come.

Abbot. Impious-impenitent

Per.

Hush! the King-the King!

Enter KING EDWARD, attended by BALIOL and others.
K. Ed. (apart to Ch.) Hark hither, Chandos!-Have
Yet join'd the vanguard? [the Yorkshire archers
Chan. They are marching thither. [quick rider.

K. Ed. Bid them make haste, for shame-send a
The loitering knaves! were it to steal my venison,
Their steps were light enough.-How now, Sir Abbot?
Say, is your Reverence come to study with us
The princely art of war?

Abbot. I've had a lecture from my Lord of Chandos,
In which he term'd your Grace a rat-catcher.
K. Ed. Chandos, how's this?

Chan. O, I will prove it, sir!-These skipping Scots
Have changed a dozen times 'twixt Bruce and Baliol,
Quitting each House when it began to totter;
They're fierce and cunning, treacherous, too, as rats,
And we, as such, will smoke them in their fastnesses.
K. Ed. These rats have seen your back, my Lord of
And noble Percy's too.
[Chandos,
Per. Ay; but the mass which now lies weltering
On yon hill side, like a Leviathan

That's stranded on the shallows, then had soul in't,
Order and discipline, and power of action.
Now 'tis a headless corpse, which only shows,
By wild convulsions, that some life remains in't.
K. Ed. True, they had once a head; and 'twas a
Although a rebel head.
[wise,

Abbot (bowing to the King). Would he were here!
we should find one to match him.

[an echo

K. Ed. There's something in that wish which wakes
Within my bosom. Yet it is as well,
Or better, that The Bruce is in his grave.
We have enough of powerful foes on earth,

No need to summon them from other worlds.
Per. Your Grace ne'er met The Bruce?
K. Ed. Never himself; but in my earliest field,
I did encounter with his famous captains,
Douglas and Randolph. Faith! they press'd me hard.
Abbot. My liege, if I might urge you with a question,
Will the Scots fight to-day?

K. Ed. (sharply.) Go look your breviary. [answer
Chan. (apart.) The Abbot has it-Edward will not
On that nice point. We must observe his humour.—
[Addresses the KING.

Your first campaign, my liege?—That was in Wear-
dale,

When Douglas gave our camp yon midnight ruffle,
And turn'd men's beds to biers?
[nearly.

K. Ed. Ay, by Saint Edward!-I escaped right
I was a soldier then for holidays,
And slept not in mine armour : my safe rest
Was startled by the cry of " Douglas! Douglas!"
And by my couch, a grisly chamberlain,
Stood Alan Swinton, with his bloody mace.
It was a churchman saved me—my stout chaplain,
Heaven quit his spirit! caught a weapon up,
And grappled with the giant.-How now, Louis?
Enter an Officer, who whispers the KING.

K. Ed. Say to him,-thus-and thus-
[Whispers.
Abbot. That Swinton's dead. A monk of ours
reported,

Bound homeward from St. Ninian's pilgrimage,
The Lord of Gordon slew him.

Per. Father, and if your house stood on our border,
You might have cause to know that Swinton lives,
And is on horseback yet.

Chan.

He slew the Gordon,

That's all the difference-a very trifle.
Abbot. Trifling to those who wage a war more noble.
Than with the arm of flesh.

Chan. (apart.) The Abbot's vex'd, I'll rub the sore
[flesh,

for him.

(Aloud). I have seen priests that used that arm of
And used it sturdily.-Most reverend Father,
What say you to the chaplain's deed of arms
In the King's tent at Weardale?

Abbot. It was most sinful, being against the canon
Prohibiting all churchmen to bear weapons;
And as he fell in that unseemly guise,
Perchance his soul may rue it.

K. Ed. (overhearing the last words.) Who may rue?
And what is to be rued?
[of Everingham.
Chan. (apart.) I'll match his Reverence for the tithes
-The Abbot says, my Liege, the deed was sinful,
By which your chaplain, wielding secular weapons,
Secured your Grace's life and liberty,
And that he suffers for't in purgatory.

K. Ed. (to the Abbot.) Say'st thou my chaplain is
in purgatory?

Abbot. It is the canon speaks it, good my Liege. K. Ed. In purgatory! thou shalt pray him out on't, Or I will make thee wish thyself beside him.

Abbot. My Lord, perchance his soul is past the aid
Of all the church may do-there is a place
From which there's no redemption.

K. Ed. And if I thought my faithful chaplain there, Thou shouldst there join him, priest!-Go, watch, fast, pray,

And let me have such prayers as will storm Heaven-
None of your maim'd and mutter'd hunting inasses.
Abbot. (apart to Chan.) For God's sake, take him off.
Chan. Wilt thou compound, then,
The tithes of Everingham ?

K. Ed. I tell thee, if thou bear'st the keys of Heaven,
Abbot, thou shalt not turn a bolt with them
'Gainst any well-deserving English subject.
Abbot. (to Ch.) We will compound, and grant thee,
too, a share

I'the next indulgence. Thou dost need it much,
And greatly 'twill avail thee.

[serves, Chan. Enough-we're friends, and when occasion I will strike in.-

[Looks as if towards the Scottish Army.
K. Ed. Answer, proud Abbot; is my chaplain's
If thou knowest aught on't, in the evil place? [soul,
Chan. My Liege, the Yorkshire men have gain'd the
I see the pennon green of merry Sherwood. [meadow.
K. Ed. Then give the signal instant! We have lost
But too much time already.
[soul--

Abbot. My Liege, your holy chaplain's blessed
K. Ed. To hell with it and thee! Is this a time
To speak of monks and chaplains?

Not ended?-scarce begun! What horse are these,
Rush from the thicket underneath the hill?
Per. They're Hainaulters, the followers of Queen
Isabel.

K. Ed. (hastily.) Hainaulters!-thou art blind
-wear Hainaulters

Saint Andrew's silver cross?—or would they charge
Full on our archers, and make havoc of them?—
Bruce is alive again-ho, rescue! rescue!
Who was❜t survey'd the ground?
Rib.
Most royal Liege—
K. Ed. A rose hath fallen from thy chaplet, Ri-
baumont.

Rib. I'll win it back, or lay my head beside it.

[Exit. K. Ed. Saint George! Saint Edward! Gentlemen, to horse,

And to the rescue! Percy, lead the bill-men;
Chandos, do thou bring up the men-at-arms.—

[Flourish of Trumpets, answered by If yonder numerous host should now bear down
Bold as their vanguard, (to the Abbot) thou mayst
pray for us,

a distant sound of Bugles.

See, Chandos, Percy-Ha, Saint George! Saint Ed-
See it descending now, the fatal hail-shower, [ward!
The storm of England's wrath—sure, swift, resistless,
Which no mail-coat can brook.-Brave English hearts!
How close they shoot together!—as one eye
Had aim'd five thousand shafts-as if one hand
Had loosed five thousand bow-strings!
Per.
The thick volley
Darkens the air, and hides the sun from us.
K. Ed. It falls on those shall see the sun no more.
The winged, the resistless plague is with them.
How their vex'd host is reeling to and fro,
Like the chafed whale with fifty lances in him,
They do not see, and cannot shun the wound.
The storm is viewless, as death's sable wing,
Unerring as his scythe.

I

Per. Horses and riders are going down together.

[MS. "The viewless, the resistless plague," etc.]

The well-known expression by which Robert Bruce censured he negligence of Randolph, for permitting an English body of cavalry to pass his flank on the day preceding the battle of Bannockburn.

3["In the second act, after the English nobles have amused themselves in some trifling conversation with the Abbot of Walthamstow, Edward is introduced; and his proud courageous temper and short manner are very admirably delineated; though, if our historical recollections do not fail us, it is more completely the picture of Longshanks than of the third Edward.

We conceive it to be extremely probable that Sir Walter Scott had resolved to commemorate some of the events in the life of Wallace,

We

may need good men's prayers.-To the rescue, Lords, to the rescue! ha, Saint George! Saint Edward ! 3 [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A part of the Field of Battle betwixt the two Main Armies.
Tumulls behind the scenes; alarums, and cries of “Gordon,
a Gordon," "Swinton," etc.

Enter, as victorious over the English vanguard,
VIPONT, REYNALD, and others.

Vip. 'Tis sweet to hear these war-cries sound toge-
Gordon and Swinton.
[ther,-

Rey. 'Tis passing pleasant, yet 'tis strange withal.
Faith, when at first I heard the Gordon's slogan
Sounded so near me, I had nigh struck down
The knave who cried it.4

and had already sketched that hero, and a Templar, and Edward the First, when his eye glanced over the description of Homildon Hill, in Pinkerton's History of Scotland; that, being pleased with the characters of Swinton and Gordon, he transferred his Wallace to Swinton; and that, for the sake of retaining his portrait of Edward, as there happened to be a Gordon and a Douglas at the battle of Halidoun in the time of Edward the Third, and there was so much similarity in the circumstances of the contest, he preserved his Edward as Edward the Third, retaining also his old Knight Templar, in defiance of the anachronism."- Monthly Review, July, 1822.]

4 [The MS. adds,-"such was my surprise."]