GOR. Must I then speak of her to you, Sir Alan ? SWI. Thy father in the paths of chivalry, GOR. I penetrate thy purpose; but I go not. GOR. No, thou wilt not command me seek my safety, For such is thy kind meaning-at the expense I would, nay must. Of the last hope which Heaven reserves for Scotland. Should know the load-star thou dost rule thy course Will turn his rein for life; but were I gone, GOR. Nay, then, her name is-hark [Whispers. Swi. I know it well, that ancient northern house. Swi. It did, before disasters had untuned me. Shall hush each sad remembrance to oblivion, Or wake the knight to battle; rouse to merriment, What power can stay them? and, our band dispersed, VIP. The noble youth speaks truth; and were he gone, There will not twenty spears be left with us. Must it be so? I do it as the patriarch doom'd his issue; I at my country's, he at Heaven's command; Though you smile, Rather than such a victim !-(Trumpets.) Hark, Where are thine, De Vipont? SwI. There moves not, then, one pennon to our Of all that flutter yonder! they come ! That music sounds not like thy lady's lute. GOR. Yet shall my lady's name mix with it gaily.-Mount, vassals, couch your lances, and cry, "Gor don ! Gordon for Scotland and Elizabeth!" [Exeunt. Loud Alarums. SCENE III. Another part of the Field of Battle, adjacent to the former Scene. Alarums. Enter SWINTON, followed by SWI. Stand to it yet! The man who flies to-day, VIP. From the main English host come rushing Art thou dismounted too? forward Pennons enow-ay, and their Royal Standard. Spur to the Regent-show the instant need 1 MS.-"And am I doom'd to yield the sad consent That thus devotes thy life?' Ha, thou knave, HOB. 2 MS. "O, could there be some lesser sacrifice." SwI. My lamp hath long been dim! But thine, O linger not !-I'll be your guide to them. young Gordon, Just kindled, to be quench'd so suddenly, Ere Scotland saw its splendour ! GOR. Five thousand horse hung idly on yon hill, Saw us o'erpower'd, and no one stirr'd to aid us! SwI. It was the Regent's envy.-Out !-alas! Why blame I him!-It was our civil discord, Our selfish vanity, our jealous hatred, Which framed this day of dole for our poor country.Had thy brave father held yon leading staff, As well his rank and valour might have claim'd it, We had not fall'n unaided.-How, O how Is he to answer it, whose deed prevented GOR. Alas! alas! the author of the death-feud, He has his reckoning too! for had your sons And num'rous vassals lived, we had lack'd no aid. SwI. May God assoil the dead, and him who follows! We've drank the poison'd beverage which we brew'd: Have sown the wind, and reap'd the tenfold whirlwind! But thou, brave youth, whose nobleness of heart ness, Why should'st thou share our punishment! GOR. All need forgiveness-[distant alarum.]- Did the main battles counter! SwI. Look on the field, brave Gordon, if thou canst, And tell me how the day goes.-But I guess, GOR. All 's lost! all 's lost!-Of the main Scottish host, This speech of Swinton's is interpolated on the blank page of the manuscript. GOR. Look there, and bid me fly!-The oak bas fall'n; And the young ivy bush, which learn'd to climb By its support, must needs partake its fall. VIP. Swinton? Alas! the best, the bravest, strongest, And sagest of our Scottish chivalry! Forgive one moment, if to save the living, My tongue should wrong the dead.-Gordon, bethink thee, Thou dost but stay to perish with the corpse 2 GOR. Ay, but he was my sire in chivalry. Save thee, De Vipont.-Hark! the Southron trumpets. VIP. Nay, without thee I stir not. Enter EDWARD, CHANDOS, PERCY, BALIOL, &c. GOR. Ay, they come on-the Tyrant and the Traitor Workman and tool, Plantagenet and Baliol.O for a moment's strength in this poor arm, To do one glorious deed! [He rushes on the English, but is made prisoner with VIPONT. K. ED. Disarm them-harm them not; though it was they Made havoc on the archers of our vanguard, 2 MS." Thou hast small cause to tarry with the corpse. |