I will strike in- [Looks as if towards the Scottish Army. KING EDWARD. Answer, proud abbot; is my chaplain's soul, If thou knowest aught on 't, in the evil place? CHANDOS. My liege, the Yorkshire men have gain'd the meadow, I see the pennon green of merry Sherwood. KING EDWARD. Then give the signal instant! We have lost But too much time already. ABBOT. My liege, your holy chaplain's blessed soul KING EDWARD. To hell with it, and thee! Is this a time [Flourish of Trumpets, answered by a distant sound See, Chandos, Percy-Ha, Saint George! Saint Edward! PERCY. The thick volley It falls on those shall see the sun no more. From his usurp'd kingdom.—(Aloud.) 'T is the worst Say, that in battle-front the Gordon slew him, VIPONT. Even therefore grieve I for those gallant yeomen, As men who know the blessings they defend. I'll keep my sorrow for our native Scots, Is like a lamp unlighted; his brave deeds, GORDON. Must I then speak of her to you, Sir Alan? The thought of thee, and of thy matchless strength, SWINTON. I would, nay, must. Pennons enow-ay, and their royal standard. I'll rescue him at least.-Young Lord of Gordon, GORDON. I penetrate thy purpose; but I go not. SWINTON. Not at my bidding? I, thy sire in chivalry- GORDON. No, thou wilt not command me seek my safety,- Thy father in the paths of chivalry GORDON. Nay, then, her name is—hark—— SWINTON. I know it well, that ancient northern house. GORDON. Will turn his rein for life; but were I gone, [Whispers. What power can stay them? and, our band dispersed, Stand to it yet! The man who flies to-day, HOB HATTELY. That ne'er shall be my curse. My Magdalen SWINTON. Ha, thou knave! Art thou dismounted too? HOB HATTELY. I know, Sir Alan, 1 Here lies the way to it, knave.-Make in, make in, And aid young Gordon! Loud and long alarums. After GORDON. All's lost! all's lost!-Of the main Scottish host, Some wildly fly, and some rush wildly forward; And some there are who seem to turn their spears Against their countrymen. SWINTON. Rashness, and cowardice, and secret treason, Combine to ruin us, and our hot valour, Devoid of discipline, is madmen's strength, More fatal unto friends than enemies! I'm glad that these dim eyes shall see no more on 't.— GORDON. [Exeunt. SWINTON on the ground, GORDON supporting him; both much wounded. SWINTON. All are cut down-the reapers have pass'd o'er us, And hie to distant harvest.- My toil's over; Enter DE VIPONT. VIPONT. [Dies. Fly, fly, brave youth!-A handful of thy followers, There lies my sickle. (Dropping his sword.) Hand of Still hover yonder to essay thy rescue.— mine again Shall never, never wield it! GORDON. O valiant leader, is thy light extinguish'd! That only beacon-flame which promised safety In this day's deadly wrack! SWINTON. My lamp hath long been dim. don, O linger not!-I'll be your guide to them. GORDON. Look there, and bid me fly!-The oak has fallen; And the young ivy-bush, which learn'd to climb By its support, must needs partake its fall. VIPONT. Swinton? Alas! the best, the bravest, strongest, But thine, young Gor- And sagest of our Scottish chivalry! Just kindled, to be quench'd so suddenly, Ere Scotland saw its splendour!—— GORDON. Five thousand horse hung idly on yon hill, SWINTON. It was the Regent's envy-Out!-alas! GORDON. Alas! alas! the author of the death-feud, SWINTON. May God assoil the dead, and him who follows!- But thou, brave youth, whose nobleness of heart GORDON. 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 Of him who slew thy father. GORDON. Ay, but he was my sire in chivalry, He taught my youth to soar above the promptings VIPONT. Nay, without thee I stir not. Enter EDWARD, CHANDOS, PERCY, BALIOL, etc. GORDON. Ay, they come on, the tyrant and the traitor, [He rushes on the English, but is made pri- KING EDWARD. Disarm them-harm them not; though it was they CHANDOS. All need forgiveness-(Distant alarum.)-Hark! in Here lies the giant! Say his name, young knight! yonder shout singing. One of the hunters was seduced by the syren, who attached herself particularly to him, to leave the hut: the other remained, and, suspicious of the fair seducers, continued to play upon a trump, or Jew's harp, some strain consecrated to the Virgin Mary. Day at length came, and the temptress vanished. Searching in the forest, he found the bones of his unfortunate friend, who had been torn to pieces and devoured by the fiend, into whose toils he had fallen. The place was from thence called, The Glen of the Green Women. Glenfiulas is a tract of forest ground, lying in the Highlands of Perthshire, not far from Callender, in Menteith. It was formerly a royal forest, and now be longs to the Earl of Moray. This country, as well as the adjacent district of Balquidder, was, in times of yore, chiefly inhabited by the Macgregors. To the west of the forest of Glenfinlas lies Loch Katrine, and its romantic avenue called the Trosachs. Benledi, Benmore, and Benvoirlich, are mountains in the same district, and at no great distance from Glenfinlas. The river | Teith passes Callender and the castle of Doune, and |