He hath had grants of baronies and lordships
In the far-distant North. A thousand horse
His southern friends and vassals always number'd.
Add Badenoch kerne, and horse from Dey and Spey,
He'll count a thousand more.-And now, De Vipont,
If the Boar-heads seem in your eyes less worthy
For lack of followers-seek yonder standard-
The bounding Stag, with a brave host around it;
There the young Gordon makes his earliest field,
And pants to win his spurs. His father's friend,
As well as mine, thou wert-go, join his pennon,
And grace him with thy presence.

[To REYNALD.] Hold thou my casque, and furl my
pennon up

Close to the staff. I will not show my crest,
Nor standard, till the common foe shall challenge
them.

I'll wake no civil strife, nor tempt the Gordon
With aught that 's like defiance.

VIP. Will he not know your features?

Swi. He never saw me. In the distant North, Against his will, 'tis said, his friends detain'd him During his nurture-caring not, belike,

To trust a pledge so precious near the Boar-tusks.

VIP. When you were friends, I was the friend of It was a natural but needless caution: both,

And now I can be enemy to neither;

But my poor person, though but slight the aid,

Joins on this field the banner of the two

Which hath the smallest following.

I wage no war with children, for I thir.k
Too deeply on mine own.

VIP. I have thought on it, and will see the Gordon
As we go hence to council. I do bear

A cross, which binds me to be Christian priest,

Swi. Spoke like the generous Knight, who gave up As well as Christian champion.3 God may grant, all,

Leading and lordship, in a heathen land

To fight, a Christian soldier! Yet, in earnest,

I pray, De Vipont, you would join the Gordon

In this high battle. "Tis a noble youth,

So, fame doth vouch him,-amorous, quick, and va-
liant;

Takes knighthood, too, this day, and well may use
His spurs too rashly in the wish to win them.

A friend like thee beside him in the fight,
Were worth a hundred spears, to rein his valour
And temper it with prudence:-'tis the aged eagle
Teaches his brood to gaze upon the sun,
With eye undazzled.

VIP. Alas! brave Swinton! Would'st thou train
the hunter

That soon must bring thee to the bay? Your custom,
Your most unchristian, savage, fiend-like custom,
Binds Gordon to avenge his father's death.

SWI. Why, be it so! I look for nothing else:
My part was acted when I slew his father,
Avenging my four sons-Young Gordon's sword,
If it should find my heart, can ne'er inflict there
A pang so poignant as his father's did.

But I would perish by a noble hand,
And such will his be if he bear him nobly,
Nooly and wisely on this field of Halidon.

Enter a PURSUIVANT.

That I, at once his father's friend and yours,
May make some peace betwixt you.1

Swi. When that your priestly zeal, and knightly
valour,

Shall force the grave to render up the dead.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt severally.

The summit of Halidon Hill, before the Regent's Tent.
The Royal Standard of Scotland is seen in the back-
ground, with the Pennons and Banners of the principal
Nobles around it.

Council of Scottish Nobles and Chiefs. SUTHERLAND,
Ross, LENNOX, MAXWELL, and other Nobles of the
highest rank, are close to the REGENT's person, and in
the act of keen debate. VIPONT with GORDON and
others, remain grouped at some distance on the right
hand of the Stage. On the left, standing also apart, is
SWINTON, alone and bare-headed. The Nobles are
dressed in Highland or Lowland habits, as historical
costume requires. Trumpets, Heralds, &c. are in at-
tendance.

LEN Nay, Lordings, put no shame upon my counsels.

I did but say, if we retired a little,

PUR. Sir Knights, to council!-'tis the Regent's We should have fairer field and better vantage. order,

That knights and men of leading meet him instantly

Before the royal standard. Edward's army

Is seen from the hill-summit.

SWI. Say to the Regent, we obey his orders.

[Exit PURSUIVANT.

I've seen King Robert-ay, The Bruce himself-
Retreat six leagues in length, and think no shame on 't.
REG. Ay, but King Edward sent a haughty message,
Defying us to battle on this field,

This very hill of Halidon; if we leave it
Unfought withal, it squares not with our honour.

1 MS.-"Sharply."

MS." As we do pass," &c.

3 MS." The cross I wear appoints me Christian priest, As well as Christian warrior," &c.

In the MS. the scene terminates with this line.

SWI. (apart.) A perilous honour, that allows the Display'd beside us; and beneath its shadow

enemy,

And such an enemy as this same Edward,

To choose our field of battle! He knows how
To make our Scottish pride betray its master
Into the pitfall.

Shall the young gallants, whom we knight this day,
Fight for their golden spurs.-Lennox, thou 'rt wise,
And wilt obey command-lead thou the rear.

LEN. The rear !-why I the rear? The van were
fitter

[During this speech the debate among the Nobles is For him who fought abreast with Robert Bruce. continued.

SwI. (apart.) Discretion hath forsaken Lennox too!

SUTH. (aloud.) We will not back one furlong-not The wisdom he was forty years in gathering one yard,

No, nor one inch; where'er we find the foe,

Or where the foe finds us, there will we fight him.
Retreat will dull the spirit of our followers,
Who now stand prompt for battle.

Ross. My Lords, methinks great Morarchat1 has
doubts,

That, if his Northern clans once turn the seam
Of their check'd hose behind, it will be hard
To halt and rally them.

Has left him in an instant. 'Tis contagious
Even to witness frenzy.

SUTH. The Regent hath determined well. The rear
Suits him the best who counsell'd our retreat.
LEN. Proud Northern Thane, the van were soon the

rear,

Were thy disorder'd followers planted there.

SUTH. Then, for that very word, I make a vow,
By my broad Earldom, and my father's soul,
That, if I have not leading of the van,

SUTH. Say'st thou, MacDonnell - Add another I will not fight to-day! falsehood,

And name when Morarchat was coward or traitor?

Thine island race, as chronicles can tell,

Were oft affianced to the Southron cause;
Loving the weight and temper of their gold,
More than the weight and temper of their steel.
REG. Peace, my Lords, ho!

Ross. Morarchat! thou the leading of the van!
Not whilst MacDonnell lives.

SwI. (apart.) Nay, then a stone would speak.
[Addresses the REGENT.] May 't please your Grace,
And you, great Lords, to hear an old man's counsel,
That hath seen fights enow. These open bickerings
Dishearten all our host. If that your Grace,

Ross (throwing down his Glove.) MacDonnell will With these great Earls and Lords, must needs debate,

not peace! There lies my pledge,

Proud Morarchat, to witness thee a liar.

Let the closed tent conceal your disagreement;
Else 'twill be said, ill fares it with the flock,

MAX. Brought I all Nithsdale from the Western If shepherds wrangle, when the wolf is nigh.

LIN. You must determine quickly. Scarce a mile
Parts our vanguard from Edward's. On the plain
Bright gleams of armour flash through clouds of dust,
Like stars through frost-mist-steeds neigh, and wea-
pons clash-

And arrows soon will whistle-the worst sound
That waits on English war.-You must determine.
REG. We are determined. We will spare proud
Edward

Half of the ground that parts us.-Onward, Lords;
Saint Andrew strike for Scotland! We will lead
The middle ward ourselves, the Royal Standard

REG. The old Knight counsels well. Let every Lord Or Chief, who leads five hundred men or more, Follow to council-others are excludedWe'll have no vulgar censurers of our conduct— [Looking at SWINTON. Young Gordon, your high rank and numerous following

Give you a seat with us, though yet unknighted.

GORDON. I pray you, pardon me. My youth's unfit
To sit in council, when that Knight's grey hairs
And wisdom wait without.

REG. Do as you will; we deign not bid you twice.
[The REGENT, Ross, SUTHERLAND, LENNOX,
MAXWELL, &c. enter the Tent. The rest remain
grouped about the Stage.

GOR. (observing Sw1.) That helmetless old Knight,
his giant stature,

His awful accents of rebuke and wisdom,
Have caught my fancy strangely. He doth seem
Like to some vision'd form which I have dream'd of,
But never saw with waking eyes till now.

I will accost him.

VIP. Pray you, do not so;

Anon I'll give you reason why you should not.
There 's other work in hand-

1 Morarchate is the ancient Gaelic designation of the Earls of Sutherland. See ante, page 697, note.

2 Lochwood Castle was the ancient seat of the Johnstones, Lords of Annandale

GOR. I will but ask his name. There's in his pre- Of your dear country, hold !-Has Swinton slain your

VIP. Hold, for the sake of Heaven! O, for the The lie itself, have flown from mouth to mouth; sake

About a foot-ball match, rather than Chiefs

And lack experience; tell me, brave De Vipont,

Were ordering a battle. I am young,

Is such the fashion of your wars in Palestine?

Enter the REGENT and Scottish Lords.
REG. Thus shall it be, then, since we may no better
And, since no Lord will yield one jot of way
To this high urgency, or give the vanguard

VIP. Such it at times hath been; and then the Up to another's guidance, we will abide them

Cross

Hath sunk before the Crescent.

Heaven's cause
Won us not victory where wisdom was not.-
Behold yon English host come slowly on,
With equal front, rank marshall'd upon rank,
As if one spirit ruled one moving body;
The leaders, in their places, each prepared
To charge, support, and rally, as the fortune
Of changeful battle needs: then look on ours,
Broken, disjointed, as the tumbling surges
Which the winds wake at random. Look on both,
And dread the issue; yet there might be succour.
GOR. We're fearfully o'ermatch'd in discipline;
So even my inexperienced eye can judge.
What succour save in Heaven?

Even on this bent; and as our troops are rank'd,
So shall they meet the foe. Chief, nor Thane,
Nor Noble, can complain of the precedence
Which chance has thus assign'd him.

SwI. (apart.) O, sage discipline,

That leaves to chance the marshalling of a battle!
GOR. Move him to speech, De Vipont.

VIP. Move him!-Move whom?

GOR. Even him, whom, but brief space since, My hand did burn to put to utter silence.

VIP. I'll move it to him.-Swinton, speak to them. They lack thy counsel sorely.

SwI. Had I the thousand spears which once I led,

I had not thus been silent. But men's wisdom
Is rated by their means. From the poor leader

VIP. Heaven acts by human means. The artist's Of sixty lances, who seeks words of weight?

skill

Supplies in war, as in mechanic crafts,

Deficiency of tools. There's courage, wisdom,
And skill enough, live in one leader here,
As, flung into the balance, might avail

To counterpoise the odds 'twixt that ruled host
And our wild multitude.-I must not name him.

GOR. (steps forward.) Swinton, there's that of wisdom on thy brow,

And valour in thine eye, and that of peril

In this most urgent hour, that bids me say,-
Bids me, thy mortal foe, say,-Swinton, speak,
For King and Country's sake!

Swi. Nay, if that voice commands me, speak I will;

GOR. I guess, but dare not ask.-What band is It sounds as if the dead lays charge on me.

yonder,

Arranged so closely as the English discipline

Hath marshall'd their best files?

VIP. Know'st thou not the pennon ?

One day, perhaps, thou 'lt see it all too closely;-
It is Sir Alan Swinton's.

GOR. These, then, are his,--the relics of his power;
Yet worth an host of ordinary men.—
And I must slay my country's sagest leader,
And crush by numbers that determined handful,
When most my country needs their practised aid,
Or men will say, "There goes degenerate Gordon;
His father's blood is on the Swinton's sword,
And his is in his scabbard !"

[Muses.

VIP. (apart.) High blood and mettle, mix'd with
early wisdom,

Sparkle in this brave youth. If he survive
This evil-omen'd day, I pawn my word,
That, in the ruin which I now forbode,
Scotland has treasure left.-How close he eyes
Each look and step of Swinton! Is it hate,
Or is it admiration, or are both

Commingled strangely in that steady gaze?
[SWINTON and MAXWELL return from the bottom

of the stage.

REG. (TO LENNOX, with whom he has been consulting.)
'Tis better than you think. This broad hill-side
Affords fair compass for our power's display,
Rank above rank rising in seemly tiers;
So that the rearward stands as fair and open-
SwI. As e'er stood mark before an English archer.
REG. Who dares to say so?-Who is 't dare impeach
Our rule of discipline?

SwI. A poor Knight of these Marches, good my
Lord;

Alan of Swinton, who hath kept a house here,

He and his ancestry, since the old days

Of Malcolm, called the Maiden.

[field,

REG. You have brought here, even to this pitched
In which the Royal Banner is display'd,

I think some sixty spears, Sir Knight of Swinton;
Our musters name no more.

Swi. I brought each man I had; and Chief, or Earl,
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,

MAX. The storm is laid at length amongst these I never more will offer word of counsel.
counsellors;

See, they come forth.

SwI. And it is more than time;

For I can mark the vanguard archery

LEN. Hear him, my Lord; it is the noble SwintonHe hath had high experience.

Handling their quivers-bending up their bows.

I do beseech you, hear him.

JOHN. Ay, hear the Swinton-hear stout old Sir I've done such work before, and love it well;

Alan;

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, iu his antique armour,
As if he were arisen from the dead,
To bring us Bruce's counsel for the battle.

SwI. "Tis a proud word to speak; but he who
fought

Long under Robert Bruce, may something guess,
Without communication with the dead,

[ye
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.

If 'tis your pleasure to give me the leading,
The dames of Sherwood, Inglewood, and Weardale,
Shall sit in widowhood and long for venison,
And long in vain. Whoe'er remembers Bannock
burn,-

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-breath'd Southron.
SwI. 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,2
What does it promise us?

SWI.
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.

REG. Tush, tell not me! If their shot fall like hail, While our good blades are faithful to the hilts,
Our men have Milan coats to bear it out.

SwI. Never did armourer temper steel on stithy
That made sure fence against an English arrow;
A cobweb gossamer were guard as good1

Against a wasp-sting.

REG. Who fears a wasp-sting?
Swi.

And our good hands to these good blades are faithful,
Blow shall meet blow, and none fall unavenged-
We shall not bleed alone.

I, my Lord, fear none; (If one, among the guilty guiltiest, might,)

Yet should a wise man brush the insect off,

Or he may smart for it.

For this one day to charm to ten hours' rest
The never-dying worm of deadly feud,

REG. We'll keep the hill; it is the vantage-ground That gnaws our vexed hearts-think no one foe When the main battle joins.

SwI. 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.

1 MS." guard as thick."

2 "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

Save Edward and his host:-days will remain,3
Ay, days by far too many will remain,

To avenge old feuds or struggles for precedence ;-
Let this one day be Scotland's.-For myself,

If there is any here may claim from me
(As well may chance) a debt of blood and hatred,
My life is his to-morrow unresisting,
So he to-day will let me do the best

That my old arm may achieve for the dear country
That 's mother to us both.