University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

The Governor's Hall in the Castle.
The CHANCELLOR and LIVINGSTON.
Chancellor.
You heard but little of this city's transports:
All ranks prest eager round, and choak'd their way;
The rabble clapt their hands, and danc'd, and cry'd;
(Their bonnets hurling at the face of Heav'n,)
God bless our peers, our country's brave defenders.

Livingston.
Ev'n at this gate they rudely roar'd aloud,
God bless the brave, the gen'rous, noble Douglases;
Health to their friends; confusion to their foes.
Where'er they shine, our splendors sink extinguish'd;
But soon my great revenge shall quench their brightness.

Chancellor.
Between them see the King! link'd arm in arm,
Smiling on each by turns, in earnest converse:
Here step aside and listen to their talk.

SCENE II.

Enter the KING between the Douglases, an arm in each of theirs, Lord Fleming walking along.
King.
I'm told my subjects, a bold stubborn kind,
Must hard be rein'd, and to the lash inur'd.
Fear awes the bold, who scorn too gentle sway.

Fleming.
Should a kind parent march with grateful sons,
Against a tyrant lashing trembling staves;
Their number equal; which the trustiest band?
Or is the stern oppressor, 'midst the groans
Of wretches mad with woe; or blest, or safe,
As the glad sire, amidst his joyful race.
Vig'rous of limbs and mind; firm, active, bold,
To kindness grateful, deep resenting wrongs,
Thy gen'rous subjects, like th'informing mind,
Unfelt their ardor guide; and drench'd in sweat,
Shall industry each gainful art employ.
Bright Genius, leading nobler arts, shall shine;
And commerce crown'd with gold, pour riches round.
Then all thy people, prosp'ring by thy care,
Shall guard thy life, and glory in thy greatness.
Nor are the means of greatness hard to find:
Exhaustless shoals choak up your swarming seas;
And huge your hills with precious metals swell;
T'embrace large fleets vast ports spread wide their arms;
And aged forests groan to plough the waves.

Douglas.
Seize then the means of greatness nature yields,
And rise redoubted monarch of the main;
The darling of the free and happy land;
No party's head but parent of the whole.
And, if the foe provokes, we'll dauntless rise,
An host of brothers, brave with free-born souls,
Far distant drive the rav'nous monster, War,
Her thirsty jaws deep-bath'd in hostile blood;
Return triumphant, while above our heads,
Bright Victory, who makes the brave divine,
Soaring to Heav'n shall clap her golden wings.

Sir David.
And while thou guard'st thy King, and quell'st his foes,
My shield shall hide thee, and my sword defend.

Douglas.
Methinks I see the glorious marshal'd field,
The waving colours, soldiers daring pride,
And all the direful horrors of the war.
I hear the fierce defiance; trumpets found;
The neighing horses; and the mingled noise
Of rage and pain; of triumph and dismay:
It fires my soul; I feel the martial rage
Flame in my breast; and burn through ev'ry vein.

Fleming.
The conqu'ror's savage joy, to see a field
With mangled carnage heap'd, of friends and foes,
Is low to his, who sees a kingdom blest;
Conscious they owe their happiness to him.

King.
Your words, as new as pleasant to mine ear,
Have charm'd my soul: like you were all my peers,
How blest I were! But nobles hate their kings.

Fleming.
The nobles love their kings, and freely shed
Their blood for all who will deserve their love.
They rais'd brave Bruce above our greatest kings.

King.
So speaks the Queen; but since she lov'd another,
Lord Chanc'lor says, she hates my father's children.
Yet when, last night, I stole to her embrace,
Her eyes dissolv'd in tears, her words in sighs.
Her tender kisses, soft encircling arms,
Pour'd all the mother on my melting soul.
Her breast which heav'd, as if that moment bursting,
So soft, so warm, so tenderly prest mine,
It shar'd th'emotion; and our beating hearts
Flutter'd to meet; and knock'd th'opposing ribs.—
A thousand nameless things still bade me love her.

Douglas.
Deny not love to her who gave you birth,
But follow nature, nature's God obey.

Fleming.
Warm is a mother's heart; most to the fruits
Of dear love lost. At your great father's death,
Her body cover'd his, receiv'd the wounds
Aim'd at his royal heart. Could love do more?
Heav'n high uncommon worth exacts from kings,
Made gods or furies to the sons of men;
And curs'd, or blest, as they destroy or save;
This precious truth lodge deep within thy breast:
A happy people makes a monarch blest;
Who all to mercy's gentle pow'r inclin'd;
His people's guardian, loves the human kind;
Who for his subjects toils, and sheds his blood;
Their voice his council, and his end their good:
Who, while around his throne the mighty bend,
Will gracious to the poors complaint attend.

[Exeunt King, Douglases, and Fleming.

SCENE III.

LIVINGSTON and CRICHTON advance.
Livingston.
They come to triumph in their Sov'reign's love,
To blast our credit, and commend our foes.

Chancellor.
How brave the spirit of the gallant Douglases!
A gen'rous pair! How sage Lord Fleming's counsels!

Livingston.
The crisis of our fate approaches nigh;
We must resolve; that they or we shall fall.

Chancellor.
My dulness to thy penetration yields.

Livingston.
But this so potent train—

Chancellor.
May be remov'd.

Livingston.
How?

Chancellor.
Let my dear son enjoy Lord Douglas' land.

Livingston.
He shall.

Chancellor.
This way, and listen to my purpose

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter DOUGLAS, and Sir DAVID.
Sir David.
Imprison'd here the best of fathers lay;
And here, as friends, we with his en'mies feast,
Who cannot love his sons. Your train attends,
While yet you may retire, trust not your foes.

Douglas.
'Tis from within men judge. The honest heart
Scorns base suspicion. Who would trust his oaths,
Who thinks all may be perjur'd?

Sir David.
Spare such words.
The time draws near to prove my oaths sincere;
I see and welcome it; for life's a torment,
Since thou canst doubt my faith: if none were falser,
Thou might'st be safe. For thee alone I tremble.

SCENE V.

Enter, on one side, the KING with FLEMING; on the other side, LIVINGSTON, CHANCELLOR, and Courtiers.
Chancellor.
Whene'er we meet at council or at banquet,
We have agreed that none shall enter arm'd.

[The Chancellor and Livingston, and their party, give the guards their swords.]
Douglas,
giving his sword.
I'll bear no sword among unarmed men.

Chancellor,
looking at Douglass' sword.
This pond'rous blade bears deep undoubted signs
Of long hard service to your valiant sires.

Douglas.
Thrice twenty times with this the good Sir James
Return'd triumphant from the glorious field.
At Annand, Halidon, and Otterburn,
And many a field in Britain and in France,
It strew'd the plains with heaps of Scotia's foes.
From sires so brave descended, now from me
It loudly claims the like illustrious deeds:
Who weilds this sword commands our faithful powers.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Enter COUNTESS and Lady BEATRIX.
Lady Beatrix.
How fair and wide this goodly prospect spreads!
See Forth majestic rolls his mighty flood
'Midst villas fair, and seats of princely peers:
There pop'lous Fife pours thick her frequent towns;
And Lothian here extends her fruitful fields:
Royal Edina rears her lofty towers,
Piercing the high-hung azure of the skies;
Here low lies Leith bathing in briny waves;
There ragged rocks swell up t'assault the heav'ns.
Let sights so charming, chear your mournful mind.

Countess.
My mournful mind finds greater cause for grief:
See how in ruins hangs the antient seat:
These fields, once fruitful, ravag'd, waste, and bare,
Mourn for our statesmen's desolating broils,
Whose snare surrounds my sons!
[Enter a Servant.
Where are thy Lords!

Servant.
Just newly enter'd with the King to council;
And next a splendid banquet for them waits.

Lady Beatrix.
I knew their virtue nothing had to fear.—

Countess.
Here dwells our gracious queen: here enter we.

Enter the Chancellor, with the Earl's Sword drawn, attended with an Officer and a Servant.
Chancellor.
[The Earl's party strolling about.
Your gracious Lord, who sees this crowded fort
Denies convenience, bids you strait retire;
And sent this well known ensign of his power;
See its bright handle, and its deep-hack'd edge.
By this good sword his valiant grand-sire slew,
On one most dreadful day, three seeming kings;
And had the true, but for the timely aid
Of France-subduing Henry's matchless might:
By this the English arms first met rebuke
By his brave sire in France, when Clarence died.
[They draw off.
Whene'er they're gone, shut fast the gates; set guards;
Bring me the keys; and have your ruffians arm'd:
And, when you see a bull's raw head serv'd in,
Rush in, and bind them hard.—See none relent;—
Whoever fails,—shall answer with his life.
[To the Servant.
When, for last course I call, send in the head.
[To the Officer.
[Exit Officer and Servant.
Like a sagacious spaniel round my prey,
With fixed eye, and full intent, I move;
Till on their heads the sudden ruin bursts.
The bull, I baited for their sport, broke loose,
And would have kill'd my son; but Douglas slew him:
Then loud applauses tore my tortur'd ears;
I saw him shining by my son's disgrace;
And sick'ning loath'd the heav'nly light which shew'd it.
He speaks so slightly, when I force out thanks,
As shew he values low my rescu'd son:
But since that debt I never can repay;
His hated presence shall not long upbraid me.

SCENE VII.

The Scene drawn, discovers a Hall with a long Table: The King sitting at the head; on one side the Douglases and Lord Fleming; on the other, Livingston, as Regent; the Chancellor entering, takes his seat next him: the rest of the Council on both sides below.
Livingston.
Our country's state calls loud for swift redress,
Long torn by civil hate; the laws despis'd.
Our Kings, but Kings in name, in vain resent
The wrongs they can't revenge; by statutes bound
Of haughty Lords; which they must stamp for law:
For justice flows from Kings, on them depends.

Fleming.
Far higher's her descent: God is her sire;
His goodness her conceiv'd; his wisdom tutor'd.
These fram'd the laws of order and of love;
Which are not sprung of yesterday; nor shall
To-morrow see them chang'd; they never die.
By these heav'ns Monarch sways the boundless whole.
His vengeance is but vig'rous goodness, arm'd
Against Disorder's rage, to save his offspring;
Nor falls his sword, even on the guilty head,
Till all the power of gentleness has fail'd.

Sir David Douglas.
Be princes thus his images, thus reign,
By stedfast laws, for public good devis'd;
With filial duty serv'd; as sires rever'd.

Fleming.
Let boundless goodness claim unbounded power,
And perfect wisdom to itself give law,
Secure from change where they immortal reign:
But flatt'rers kings seduce, their ear abuse;
And patriot kings their thornes to tyrants leave.
Hence stedfast laws must prince and people guard,
Such as Bruce fram'd with his heroic peers.

Douglas.
These sons of freedom tore the hostile yoke
From Scottish necks, and bad the land be free;
And left the noble purchase to their children;
Nor thought it dearly bought with lives and fortunes.
Freedom's the guard of right, the nurse of truth;
Parent of science, and all gen'rous deeds.
This steel'd their breasts, and made them dauntless rise,
Unconquer'd by defeats; and forc'd at last
Vict'ry to crown a brav'ry so resolv'd.
If such thou reign, thou such shall find thy peers.

King.
Thrice happy Bruce, in peers so true and brave!
If mine be such, I'll worth, like him, reward.

Livingston.
His heirs have felt his lavish bounty sorely,
Which rais'd so many rivals to their power.
Do thou these gifts resume; and at thy will,
King-like, command our fortunes and our lives.
You first, my Lords, into his hands resign
Estates, and honours, privileges, powers;
From royal grace, with int'rest to return;
For by that tenure, Scots henceforth shall hold
Most sure, when none dare blame the royal will.

Fleming.
Liv'd our great sires for this? and bore with joy
The painful march, and dangers of the field?
For this were all their glorious wounds and deaths.
Sure hadst thou shar'd like these the common war,
And shone the first in danger and in fame,
Thou couldst not see thy fellow-soldiers slaves.

Douglas.
And fell so many of my valiant sires
In freedom's cause, that I should first of Scots
Receive the yoke, and teach the peers to serve?
Hear, Scotia's champions once, now guardian saints!
Listen from heaven, and hear your offspring swear
Like you, to die before he lives a slave;
And stain your race, by deeds so nobly rais'd.
Can any think we'll lives or fortunes hold,
Like bubbles blown, or bursting by the breath
Of each vile tool of arbitrary power?
Perhaps a whore's, to whose imperial spleen,
A martial land must, with its tyrant, bend;
While her vile creatures trample down the brave.
Fair Liberty! thy champion I am sworn;
Their deadly foe, who seeks thy sons t'enslave.

Livingston.
Since grace thou scorn'st, vengeance sure awaits,
Heavy to fall and crush thy stubborn pride,
And end at once Aristocratic power.

Douglas
rising.
Beware then, tyrant. Douglas is thy foe;
Whose sword is sacred to his country's cause.

King.
My Lord!—My Cousins! both be pacified.
Sit! calm your wrath!—Be friends!—Dear cousin Douglas,
To me this once your anger sacrifice.

Chancellor,
apart to Livinston.
Scare not your prey; the net's just closing round them.
A moment's patience all your wishes crowns.

King.
Listen! be friends! and make your Sov'reign blest!

Douglas.
His King's desire to Douglas is a law.

[Sits down.
Chancellor.
Will Scotia's dearest son provok'd to wrath
Bathe her in blood? or in his furious rage,
Her skillful pilot steer her on a rock?
To-morrow's sun th'assembled peers beholds:
There free delib'rare; here, in social love,
Enjoy the banquet which prepar'd awaits.

Fleming.
Well spoke! and happy state, where ev'ry rank
May meet, explain their griefs, and find redress;
From faction free, above the tyrant's awe,
And only subject to their country's law.

SCENE VIII.

The Chancellor rising, and advancing to the front of the Stage; the Scene drops on the rest.
Enter an OFFICER.
Officer.
They all are gone; strong watchful guards are set;
The gates are well secur'd; receive the keys.

[Exit.
Chancellor.
Now nothing here can hinder my designs.
Straight disappointment, terror, and surprize,
My foes shall waken from their golden dreams
Of royal favour, power, and public greatness.
Fools may scorn knaves; but knav'ry prospers here;
Here!—but Hereafter,—what awaits them there!
O curst Hereafter!—think I must not,—dare not.
My foes excell in virtue; I in cunning:
And thus must triumph. So the prince of hell;
(His plot 'gainst man succeeding but too well;
And those heav'n's favour destin'd for his place,
By his dark wiles seduc'd from heav'nly grace,
No hope of heav'n in his fell breast alive,)
Rejoic'd to see his hellish projects thrive.

[Exit.