The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart., Complete in One Volume

[GORDON shows much emotion during this
and the preceding speech of SWINTON.
REG. It is a dream-a vision !-if one troop
Rush down upon the archers, all will follow,

And order is destroy'd-we 'll keep the battle-rank
Our fathers wont to do. No more on 't.-Ho!

Be faithful, brave, and O, be fortunate,
Should this ill hour permit!

[The trumpets sound; the Heralds ery
"Largesse," and the Attendants show
"A Gordon! A Gordon!"
REG. Beggars and flatterers! Peace, peace, I say!

Where be those youths seek knighthood from our We 'll to the Standard; knights shall there be made sword?

HER. Here are the Gordon, Somerville, and Hay,
And Hepburn, with a score of gallants more.
REG. Gordon, stand forth.
GOR.

Who will with better reason crave your clamour.
LEN. What of Swinton's counsel?

Here's Maxwell and myself think it worth noting.
REG. (with concentrated indignation.)

I pray your Grace, forgive me. Let the best knight, and let the sagest leader,REG. How! seek you not for knighthood? So Gordon quotes the man who slew his father,GOR.

But, pardon me 'tis from another sword.

I do thirst for 't. With his old pedigree and heavy mace,
Essay the adventure if it pleases him,
With his fair threescore horse. As for ourselves,
We will not peril aught upon the measure.

REG. It is your Sovereign's-seek you for a worthier?
GOR. Who would drink purely, seeks the secret
fountain,

How small soever-not the general stream,
Though it be deep and wide. My Lord, I seek
The boon of knighthood from the honour'd weapon
Of the best knight, and of the sagest leader,
That ever graced a ring of chivalry.
-Therefore, I beg the boon on bended knee,
Even from Sir Alan Swinton.

[Kneels.

REG. Degenerate boy! Abject at once and insolent!

See, Lords, he kneels to him that slew his father! GOR. (starting up.) Shame be on him, who speaks such shameful word!

Shame be on him, whose tongue would sow dissen-
sion,

When most the time demands that native Scotsmen
Forget each private wrong!

GOR. Lord Regent, you mistake; for if Sir Alan
Shall venture such attack, each man who calls
The Gordon chief, and hopes or fears from him
Or good or evil, follows Swinton's banner
In this achievement.

REG. Why, God ha' mercy! This is of a piece.
Let young and old e'en follow their own counsel,
Since none will list to mine.

Ross. The Border cockerel fain would be on
horseback;

'Tis safe to be prepared for fight or flight:
And this comes of it to give Northern lands
To the false Norman blood.

GOR. Hearken, proud Chief of Isles! Within my
stalls

I have two hundred horse; two hundred riders
Mount guard upon my castle, who would tread

SwI. (interrupting him.) Youth, since you crave me Into the dust a thousand of your Redshanks,

To be your sire in chivalry, I remind you
War has it duties, Office has its reverence;
Who governs in the Sovereign's name is Sovereign;-
Crave the Lord Regent's pardon.

GOR. You task me justly, and I crave his pardon,
[Bows to the REGENT.
His and these noble Lords'; and pray them all
Bear witness to my words.-Ye noble presence,
Here I remit unto the Knight of Swinton
All bitter memory of my father's slaughter,
All thoughts of malice, hatred, and revenge;
By no base fear or composition moved,

But by the thought, that in our country's battle
All hearts should be as one. I do forgive him
As freely as I pray to be forgiven,

And once more kneel to him to sue for knighthood.
SwI. (affected, and drawing his sword.)

Alas! brave youth, 'tis I should kneel to you,
And, tendering thee the hilt of the fell sword
That made thee fatherless, bid thee use the point
After thine own discretion. For thy boon-
Trumpets be ready-In the Holiest name,
And in Our Lady's and Saint Andrew's name,
[Touching his shoulder with his stnord.
I dub thee Knight!—Arise, Sir Adam Gordon!

Nor count it a day's service.

SWI.

Hear I this

From thee, young man, and on the day of battle?
And to the brave MacDonnell ?

GOR. 'Twas he that urged me; but I am rebuked.
REG. He crouches like a leash-hound to his master!!
SwI. Each hound must do so that would head the
deer-

'Tis mongrel curs that snatch at mate or master.
REG. Too much of this. Sirs, to the Royal Stan-
dard!

I bid you, in the name of good King David.
Sound trumpets-sound for Scotland and King David!
[The REGENT and the rest go off, and the
Scene closes. Manent GORDON, SWIN-
TON, and VIPONT, with REYNALD and
followers. LENNOX follows the REGENT;
but returns, and addresses SWINTON.
LEN. O, were my western horsemen but come up,
I would take part with you!

Swi.
Better that you remain.
They lack discretion; such grey head as yours
May best supply that want.

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

Lennox, mine ancient friend, and honour'd lord,

Farewell, I think, for ever!

Swi. An ancient friend?--a most notorious knave,
Whose throat I've destined to the dodder'd oak

LEN. Farewell, brave friend!-and farewell, noble Before my castle, these ten months and more.
Gordon,

Whose sun will be eclipsed even as it rises!

The Regent will not aid you.

Was it not you who drove from Simprim-mains,
And Swinton-quarter, sixty head of cattle?
HOB. What then, if now I lead your sixty lances

SwI. We will so bear us, that as soon the blood- Upon the English flank, where they'll find spoil hound

Shall halt, and take no part, what time his comrade

Is grappling with the deer, as he stand still,

And see us overmatch'd.

Is worth six hundred beeves?

Swi.. Why, thou canst do it, knave. I would not

trust thee

With one poor bullock; yet would risk my life,

LEN. Alas! thou dost not know how mean his And all my followers, on thine honest guidance. pride is,

HOB. There is a dingle, and a most discreet one,
(I've trod each step by star-light,) that sweeps round
The rearward of this hill, and opens secretly
Upon the archers' flank.-Will not that serve
Your present turn, Sir Alan?

GOR. Thou, Swinton?-no!-that cannot, cannot On, thou false thief, but yet most faithful Scotsman!

be.

SWI. Then change the phrase, and say, that while

we live,

Gordon shall be my son. If thou art fatherless,
Am I not childless too? Bethink thee, Gordon,
Our death-feud was not like the household fire,
Which the poor peasant hides among its embers,
To smoulder on, and wait a time for waking.
Ours was the conflagration of the forest,
Which, in its fury, spares nor sprout nor stem,
Hoar oak, nor sapling-not to be extinguish'd,
Till Heaven, in mercy, sends down all her waters;
But, once subdued, its flame is quench'd for ever;
And spring shall hide the tract of devastation,1
With foliage and with flowers.--Give me thy hand.
GOR. My hand and heart!-And freely now!-to
fight!

VIP. How will you act? [To SWINTON.] The Gor-
don's band and thine

Are in the rearward left, I think, in scorn-
Ill post for them who wish to charge the foremost!
Swi. We'll turn that scorn to vantage, and de-

scend

Sidelong the hill-some winding path there must be-
O, for a well-skill'd guide!

[HOB HATTELY starts up from a Thicket. HOB. So here he stands.-An ancient friend, Sir Alan.

Hob Hattely, or, if you like it better,

Hob of the Heron Plume, here stands your guide.

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

Even as the artist, sir, whose name offends you,

On yon hill side, like a Leviathan

Sits prosing o'er his can, until the trap fall, Announcing that the vermin are secured,

And then 'tis up, and on them.

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,

PER. Chandos, you give your tongue too bold a By wild convulsions, that some life remains in 't. license.

CHA. Percy, am a necessary evil.

King Edward would not want me, if he could,
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.

AB.
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.

CHA. I thank you, Father, filially. 1hough 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.

K. ED. True, they had once a head; and 'twas a

wise,

Although a rebel head.

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

K. ED. There's something in that wish which wakes an echo

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
AB. My Liege, if I might urge you with a question,
Will the Scots fight to-day?

K. ED. (sharply.) Go look your breviary.

CHA. (apart.) The Abbot has it-Edward will not

answer

On that nice point. We must observe his humour.-
[Addresses the KING
Your first campaign, my Liege ?-That was in Wear-
dale,

AB. No composition; I'll have all, or none.
CHA. None, then-'tis soonest spoke. I'll take my When Douglas gave our camp yon midnight ruffle,

chance,

And trust my sinful soul to Heaven's mercy,
Rather than risk my worldly goods with thee-
My hour may not be come.

AB. Impious-impenitent-
PER.

And turn'd men's beds to biers?

K. ED. Ay, by Saint Edward!--I escaped right

nearly.

I was a soldier then for holidays,

And slept not in mine armour: my safe rest

Hush! the King-the King! 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 KING EDWARD, attended by BALIOL and others.
KING (apart to CHA.) Hark hither, Chandos!
Have the Yorkshire archers

Yet join'd the vanguard?

CHA. They are marching thither.

K. ED. Bid them make haste, for shame-send a quick rider.

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?

AB. 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?

CHA. 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 Chandos,

And noble Percy's too.

PER. Ay; but the mass which now lies weltering

Enter an Officer, who whispers the KING. K. ED. Say to him,-thus-and thus

[Whaspers

AB. That Swinton's dead. A monk of ours re ported,

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

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

CHA. He slew the Gordon, That's all the difference-a very trifle. AB. Trifling to those who wage a war more noble Than with the arm of flesh.

CHA. (apart.) The Abbot's vex'd, I'll rub the sore for him.

(Aloud.) I have seen priests that used that arm of flesh,

And used it sturdily.-Most reverend Father,
What say you to the chaplain's deed of arms
In the King's tent at Weardale ?

AB. 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.

[Flourish of Trumpets, answered by a distan sound of Bugles.

See, Chandos, Percy-Ha, Saint George! Saint Ed

ward!

See it descending now, the fatal hail-shower,
The storm of England's wrath-sure, swift, resist
less,

K. ED. (overhearing the last words.) Who may rue? Which no mail-coat can brook.-Brave English hearts' And what is to be rued? How close they shoot together!-as one eye

CHA. (apart.) I'll match his Reverence for the tithes Had aim'd five thousand shafts-as if one hand

of Everingham.

-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.

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.

K. ED. (to the ABBOT.) Say'st thou my chaplain is The winged, the resistiess plague1 is with them. in purgatory?

AB. 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.

AB. 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.

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.

PER. Horses and riders are going down together. 'Tis almost pity to see nobles fall,

K. ED. And if I thought my faithful chaplain And by a peasant's arrow.
there,
BAL.

Thou shouldst there join him, priest !—Go, watch, fast, Although they are my rebels.

pray,

And let me have such prayers as will storm Heaven-
None of your maim'd and mutter'd hunting masses.
AB. (apart to CHA.) For God's sake take him off.
CHA. 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.

AB. (to CHA.) We will compound, and grant thee,
too, a share

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

I could weep them,

CHA. (aside to PER.) His conquerors, he means, who cast him out

From his usurped kingdom.-(Aloud.) 'Tis the worst
of it,

That knights can claim small honour in the field
Which archers win, unaided by our lances.

K. ED. The battle is not ended. [Looks towards
the field.

Not ended?-scarce begun! What horse are these,
Rush from the thicket underneath the hill?

PER. They're Hainaulters, the followers of Queer.
Isabel.

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

CHA. Enough—we're friends, and when occasion Saint Andrew's silver cross?—or would they charge

serves,

I will strike in.———

[Looks as if towards the Scottish Army. K. ED. Answer, proud Abbot; is my chaplain's soul,

If thou knowest aught on 't, in th⚫ evil place?
CHA. My Liege, the Yorkshire men have gain'd the
meadow.

I see the pennon green of merry Sherwood.

K. ED. Then give the signal instant! We have

Iost

But too much time already

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

MS.-"The viewless, the resistless plague," &c.

2 The well-known expression by which Robert Bruce cen

Full on our archers, and make havoc of them ?--
Bruce is alive again-ho, rescue! rescue!-
Who was❜t survey'd the ground?

RIBA. Most royal Liege

K. ED. A rose hath fallen from thy chaplet,'
Ribaumont.

RIBA. 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.-
If yonder numerous host should now bear down
Bold as their vanguard, (to the Abbot,) thou mayst
pray for us,

sured the negligence of Randolph, for permitting an English body of cavalry to pass his flank on the day preceding the bat tle of Bannockburn.

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

For Edward's men-at-arms will soon be on us,
The flower of England, Gascony, and Flanders;
But with swift succour we will bide them bravely.--
De Vipont, thou look'st sad? 3

VIP. It is because I hold a Templar's sword
Wet to the crossed hilt with Christian blood.

SwI. The blood of English archers-what can gild A Scottish blade more bravely?

VIP. Even therefore grieve I for those gallant yeo

men,

England's peculiar and appropriate sons,
Known in no other land. Each boasts his hearth
And field as free as the best lord his barony,

VIP. 'Tis sweet to hear these war-cries sound to- Owing subjection to no human vassalage,

gether,

Gordon and Swinton.

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."

Enter SWINTON and GORDON.

Swi. Pitch down my pennon in yon holly bush. GOR. Mine in the thorn beside it; let them wave, As fought this morn their masters, side by side.

SwI. Let the men rally, and restore their ranks
Here in this vantage-ground-disorder'd chase
Leads to disorder'd flight; we have done our part,
And if we 're succour'd now, Plantagenet
Must turn his bridle southward.-
Reynald, spur to the Regent with the basnet
Of stout De Grey, the leader of their vanguard;
Say, that in battle-front the Gordon slew him,
And by that token bid him send us succour.
GOR. And tell him that when Selby's headlong
charge

Had wellnigh born me down, Sir Alan smote him.
I cannot send his helmet, never nutshell
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?

Save to their King and law. Hence are they resolute.
Leading the van on every day of battle,

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.
No other kingdom shows such worth and happiness
Veil'd in such low estate-therefore I mourn them.
Swi. I'll keep my sorrow for our native Scots,
Who, spite of hardship, poverty, oppression,
Still follow to the field their Chieftain's banner,
And die in the defence on 't.

GOR. And if I live and see my halls again,
They shall have portion in the good they fight for.
Each hardy follower shall have his field,
His household hearth and sod-built home, as free
As ever Southron had. They shall be happy!—
And my Elizabeth shall smile to see it !-
I have betray'd myself.

Swi.
Do not believe it.-
Vipont, do thou look out from yonder height,
And see what motion in the Scottish host,
And in King Edward's.-

[Exit VIPONT Now will I counsel thee;

The Templar's ear is for no tale of love,
Being wedded to his Order. But I tell thee,
The brave young knight that hath no lady-love
Is like a lamp unlighted; his brave deeds,
And its rich painting, do seem then most glorious,

Swi. Ay, breathe your horses, they'll have work When the pure ray gleams through them.—

anon,

1 "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 that 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, 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,

Hath thy Elizabeth no other name? 5

retaining also his old Knight Templar, in defiance of the anachronism."-Monthly Review, July, 1822.

2 The MS. adds-"such was my surprise."

3 "While thus enjoying a breathing time, Swinton observes the thoughtful countenance of De Vipont. See what follows. Were ever England and Englishmen more nobly, more beauti fully, more justly characterized, than by the latter, or was patriotic feeling ever better sustained than by the former and his brave companion in arms?"-New Edinburgh Review. 4 "There wanted but a little of the tender passion to make this youth every way a hero of romance. But the poem has no ladies. How admirably is this defect supplied! In his enthusiastic anticipation of prosperity, he allows a name to es cape him."-New Edinburgh Review.

5 "Amid the confusion and din of the battle, the reader is unexpectedly greeted with a dialogue, which breathes indeed the soft sounds of the lute in the clang of trumpets."— Monthly Review.

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