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Is like a lamp unlighted; bis brave deeds,
Pennons enow-ay, and their royal standard. And its rich painting, do scem then most glorious, But ours stand rooted, as for crows to roost on. When the pure ray gleams through them.
SWINTON ( to himself). Hath thy Elizabethi no other name?
I 'll rescue him at least. Young Lord of Gordon,
Spur to the Regent-show the instant need Must I then speak of her to you, Sir Alan?
GORDON The thought of thee, and of thy matchless strength, I penetrate thy purpose;
but I Hath coojured phantoms up amongst her dreams.
No, thou wilt not command me seek my safety, -
-at the expense Thy father in the paths of chivalry
Of the last hope which Heaven reserves for Scotland. Should know the load-star thou dost rule thy course by. While I abide, no follower of mine
Will turn his rein for life; but were I gone, Nay, then, her name is—hark
[Whispers. What power can stay them ? and, our band dispersed,
What swords shall for an instant stem yon host,
And save the latest chance for victory?
The noble youth speaks truth; and were he gone, In my Elizabeth. And if musio touch thee-
There will not twenty spears be left with us.
No, bravely as we have begun the field,
So let us fight it out. The Regent's eyes
More certain than a thousand messages, Shall hush each sad remembrance to oblivion,
Shall see us stand, the barrier of his host
Against yon bursting storm. If not for honour,
He must bear down to aid us.
SWINTON Or wake the knight to battle; rouse to merriment,
Must it be so !
And am I forced to yield the sad consent,
But I seek vainly some aloning sacrifice,
Rather than such a victim!—(Trumpets.)-Hark, they
come! Though you smile,
That music sounds not like thy lady's lute. I do not speak it half. Her gift creative
GORDON New measures adds to every air she wakes;
Yet shall my lady's name mix with it gaily.Varying and gracing it with liquid sweetness,
Mount, vassals, couch your lances, and cry « Gordon ! Like the wild modulation of the lark,
Gordon for Scotland and Elizabeth !» Now leaving, now returning to the strain !
(Exeunt. Loud alarum. To listen to her, is to seem to wander In some enchanted labyrinth of romance, Whence nothing but the lovely fairy's will, Who wove the spell, can extricate the wanderer:
Another part of the field of Battle, adjacent to the
former Scene. Of youth! There's scarce three minutes to decide
Alarums. Enter Swinton, followed by Hob HATTELY. 'Twixt death and life, 'twixt triumph and defeat, Yet all his thoughts are in his lady's bower,
Stand to it yet! The man who flies to-day,
May bastards warm them at his household hearth!
That ne'er shall be my curse. My Magdalen On death-on judgment—on eternity ?
Is trusty as my broadsword. For time is over with us.
Ha, thou kpave, There moves not then one pennon to our aid,
Art thou dismounted too! Of all that flutter yonder ?
I know, Sir Alan, From the main English host come rushing forward You want no lomcward guide ; so threw my reins
Upon my palfrey's neck, and let him loose.
GORDON Within an hour he stands before my gate;
All's lost! all 's lost! Of the main Scottish host, And Magdalen will need no other token
Some wildly fly, and some rush wildly forward; To bid the Melrose monks say masses for me.
And some there are who seem to turn their spears
Against their countrymen.
Rashoess, and cowardice, and secret treason,
It is my purpose, Combine to ruin us; and our hot valour, Having lived a thief, to die a brave man's death ; Devoid of discipline, is madmen's strength, And never had I a more glorious chance for 't.
More fatal unto friends than enemies!
I'm glad that these dim eyes shall see no more on't.Here lies the way to it, knave.- Make in, make in,
Let thy hand close them, Gordon-I will think And aid young Gordon!
My fair-hair'd William renders me that office! [Dies. [Exeunt. Loud and long alarums. After And, Swinton, I will think I do that duty
which the back scene rises, and discovers To my dead father.
Enter De VIPONT.
SWINTON. All are cut down the reapers have pass'd o'er us, Fly, fly, brave youth!-A handful of thy followers, And hie to distant harvest.— My toil's over;
The scalier'd gleaning of this desperate day, There lies my sickle. (Dropping his sword.] Hand of Still hover yonder to essay thy rescue.mine again
O linger not!--I 'll be your guide to them, Shall never, never wield it!
Look there, and bid me fly!—The oak has fallen; O valiant leader, is thy light extinguish'd!
And the young ivy-bush, which learn'd to climb
Swinton? Alas! the best, the bravest, strongest, My lamp hath long been dim. But thine, young And sagest of our Scottish chivalry! Gordon,
Forgive one moment, if to save the living, Just kindled, to be quenched so suddenly,
My tongue should wrong the dead.—Gordon, bethink Ere Scotland saw its splendour!-
Thou dost but stay to perish with the corpse Five thousand horse hung idly on yon hill,
Of him who slew thy father. Saw us o'erpower'd, and no one stirr'd to aid us !
Ay, but he was my sire in chivalry, It was the Regent's envy-Out!—alas!
He taught my youth to soar above the promptings Why blame I him ?- It was our civil discord,
Of mean and selfish vengeance; gave my youth Our selfish vanity, our jealous hatred,
A name that shall not die even on this death-spot. Which framed this day of dole for our poor country.- Records shall tell this field had not been lost, Had thy brave father held yon leading staff,
Had all men fought like Swinton and like Gordon.
Nay, without thee I stir pot.
Enter EDWARD, CHANDOS, PERCY, BALIOL, etc.
Workman and tool, Plantagenet and Baliol,
[He rushes on the English, but is made priwind!
soner with Vipont. But thou, brave youth, whose nobleness of heart Pour'd oil upon the wounds our hate inflicted; Disarm them-harm them not; though it was they Thou, who hast done no wrong, need'se no forgiveness, Made havoc on the archiers of our van-guard, Why shouldst thou share our punishment ?
They and that bulky champion. Where is he?
All need forgiveness—[ Distant alarum ]–Hark! in Ilere lies the gianı! Say his name, young knight!
Let it suftice, he was a man this morning.
Thy information, youth. Who that has fought
Through all these Scottish wars, but knows that crest,
joins the mediately to the lig Dear Benv Alpine sce
The sable boar chain'd to the leafy oak,
And set thee free unransom'd. 'Tis Alan Swinton!
Enter Abbot OF WALTHAMSTOW.
Heaven grant your majesty
Many such glorious days As this has been!
It is a day of much advantage;
Glorious it might have been, had all our foes
Fought like these two brave champions. --Strike the
Sound trumpets, and pursue the fugitives, And let mine
Till the Tweed's eddies whelm them. Berwick 's renSleep at his side, in token that our death
derd Ended the feud of Swinton and of Gordon.
I trust, will soon find lasting close.
Note 1. p. 437.
A rose has fallen from thy chaplet.
The well-known expression by which Robert Bruce
censured the negligence of Randolph, for permitting CHANDOS. Baliol, I would not brook such dying looks
an English body of cavalry to pass his flank on the To buy the crown you aim at.
day preceding the battle of Bannockburn. KING EDWARD (to viPont).
Note 2. p. 440. Vipont, thy crossed shield shows ill in warfare
I was a Scotsman cre I was a Templar. Against a christian king.
A Venetian general observing his soldiers testified
some unwillingness to fight against those of the pope, That christian king is warring upon Scotland. whom they regarded as Father of the Church, addressed I was a Scotsman ere I was a Templar, (2)
them in terms of similar encouragement, --« Fight op! Sworn to my country ere I knew my order.
we were Venetians before we were christians.»
Ballads and Lyrical pieces.
singing. One of the hunters was seduced by the syren,
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 For them the viewless forms of air obey,
at length came, and the temptress vanished. Searching Their bidding beed, and at their beck repair;
in the forest, he found the bones of his unfortunate They know what spirit brews the stormful day,
friend, who had been torn to pieces and devoured by And heartless oft, like moody madness, stare, To see the pbantom train their secret work prepare.
the fiend, into whose toils he had fallen. The place was
from thence called, The Glen of the Green Women. The tradition upon which the following stanzas are
Glenfinlas is a tract of forest ground, lying in the founded runs thus: While two Highland hunters were Menteith. It was formerly a royal forest, and now be
Highlands of Perthshire, not far from Callender, in passing the night in a solitary bathy (a hut built for
loogs to the Earl of Moray. This country, as well as purpose of hunting), and making merry over their venison and whisky, one of them expressed a wish, that
the adjacent district of Balquidder, was, in times of
yore, chiefly inhabited by the Macgregors. To the west they had pretty lasses to complete their party. The words were scarcely uttered, when two beautiful young mantic avenue called the Trosachs. Benledi, Benmore,
of the forest of Glenfinlas lies Loch Katrine, and its rowomen, habited in green, entered the but, dancing and
and Benvoirlich, are mountains in the same district, Coronach is the lamentation for a deceased warrior, sung by the and at no great distance from Glenfiplas. The river aged of the clan.
Teith passes Callender and the castle of Doune, and