University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

—Marches between England and Scotland.
King Edward, De Bek, Lords, Herald, &c.
KING EDWARD.
Look forth, De Bek.—Yet have we gain'd the march
That sunders merry England from the soil
Where wave the lean, lank oats, their stalky heads
Type of the hunger-shrivell'd land they shadow?

DE BEK.
A little on, my liege; mark there the confines;
On this side, tow'rd the sun, the kidney'd wheat
Struts his gigantic stature; on the other,
Toward the Bear, the husky oaten weed
Cowers in his viler furrow.

KING EDWARD.
Tut, I see it;
Our men do shake their heads, and cry, Aha!
At that poor porridge-prospect; but our horses
Curvet and neigh with gladness, in the hope
Of such fat provender.—Cast out thy glance:
See'st thou De Baliol yonder? 'Mid his marsh
Of long lush oats, can'st thou discern him coming,
Love in his face, and homage in his knee,
An honest landlord, full of kindly greetings?

DE BEK.
I see him not, my lord; behind his hills
He lurks, asham'd of his degeneracy:
He has no face to front his benefactor;
He'll be to seek to-day.

KING EDWARD.
Consumption seek him!
I'll seek him not, save on the spot prefix'd
For his attendance:—Is the herald here,
And ready?

DE BEK.
He is here, and waits thy word
To do his duty.

KING EDWARD.
Has the Lord De Bruce
Been well advertised that it is my pleasure
He should be hovering round me as a bird,
In hope of picking up the pea of gold
About to drop from Baliol's bill?

DE BEK.
Lord Bruce
Now hangs upon our skirts in expectation;
The waving of a hand will waft him hither.

KING EDWARD.
'Tis well; let now our herald forth advance,
And summon our king-vassal to do service.

DE BEK
, (to the HERALD.)
Herald, advance and do the ceremony.

HERALD
, (advancing.)
O King, do'st thou command me now to cite
King John, your vassal, hither?

KING EDWARD.
I command thee.

HERALD.
Are these the frontiers of the Scottish land?

KING EDWARD.
They are.

HERALD.
Then, hear me, Heavens, and hear me, Earth!
Hear me, ye Angels, round whose starry chairs
Truth and fair Faith are ever ministrant,
Hear me, and bear ye witness; I call hither
His Majesty of England's homage,
The King of Scotland, John De Baliol,
Forewarn'd as he has been, of this citation,
To do the feudal service, as is due
To his liege-lord and master, who now stands
Waiting his liegeman on the frontiers.
Appear, King John!
(Pause.)
Again, be witness, Heaven! Be witness, Earth!
Be witnesses, ye Seraphim of Heaven!
Appear, King John!
(Pause.)
Once more, be witness, Heaven! Be witness, Earth!
Ye Seraphim of Heaven, be witnesses!
Appear, King John!
(Pause.)
He comes not, and the holy bond is broke!
Lo, as I pluck this grass up from the ground,
And with my breath do scatter it in heaven
For every wind to toss it in contempt,
My king and master scatters from his heart
All faith, once plighted, now contemn'd and lost,
All confidence, now swallow'd by mistrust,
All union, all protection, now destroy'd,
Obliterated from the page of life,
As if the traceless past had never been.
My lord and master reassumes his right
T'accept another homage, and to give
Its recompense, its glorious annexation,
The power, the crown, to whomsoe'er he will:—
I publish it; I tell it to the Heavens
And to the Earth;—Earth, Heaven, establish it!
Uproot the faithless; make the faithful happy,
And make the issues pregnant with reproof,
That men may tremble and respect the right!—
O'erpass, my lord, and take thy right.

KING EDWARD
, (overpassing the frontier.)
I take it;—
Now have my hands got riddance of their bonds;
'Tis mine to give to whom I will.

HERALD.
'Tis yours.

KING EDWARD.
Call De Bruce hither; let us see how now
Leans his opinion; we must supple him
With oily hopes, butter with blandishments
His canker'd stubborn spirit, till he wind
Into our purpose or fulfil it, limed
With exquisite choice gullery.—I require
His name a little while, wherewith to work
As a nice tool, to scoop and carve the hole
Wherein my honour shall be riveted,
Fix'd in eternally like bars of brass.
But see, he comes—stand farther off, my friends;
Sov'reigns have secrets—ha! methinks he comes
More tow'ring on the tip-toe of high hope,
Than when my postulatum sent him off
Like a mad ostrich, reeling to his desert
To hide his eggs in sand.—Now, honest soul,
He deems them chipt for hatching, and a crown
About to crack the shell.
[Bruce comes forward.
My lord, De Bruce,
All hail, and years of happiness!

LORD BRUCE.
Thrice hail
To England's honour'd Majesty!

KING EDWARD.
My lord,
I bless your genius and your happy star,
For timing thus, with dexterous adaptation,
Your honour'd presence to this needy crisis,
Most lucky at this hour.

LORD BRUCE.
I come, O sire,
Pleased as you were to hint me hitherward;
Obedient to thy bidding, yet uncertain
Of its import.

KING EDWARD.
Thou hast done well, De Bruce:
Obedience here, at least, is innocent,
And may be richly crown'd with consequence.
It lies with thee and with thy genius still
Thyself t'advantage of th'amazing haps
And mutabilities of this great world,
Whose many-spoked wheel is ever whirling,
Now heaving up the low to kiss the heavens,
Now into whirlpools swinging down the proud;
As this day's sun can testify, that has
Beheld a King shorn of his royalty,
Banish'd his throne, and chased back again
Into the valleys of subjected life.
Look tow'rd the North, De Bruce—if thou dost see
A second sun o'er yonder hills, thou see'st
John Baliol, King of Scotland! That same hand
That hung him up a lamp of royalty,
Hath ta'en him down to darkness; and his place,
Now void and gloomy, needs to be relum'd
With some supplying orb.—Wilt thou demur
To shine instead of him?

LORD BRUCE.
My lord, O King,
If in your grace's words there is propounded
To me the tender of that dignity,
Which now is dropping fast from kinsman John,
Thou know'st the terms on which I shall assume it:—
For Scotland's crown no homage.

KING EDWARD.
Out on thee!
Does that vain bugbear, that alarm'd thee late,
Rise up already to ferment thy blood,
And make thee touchy as a porcupine?
Why, Homage is become a grisly ghost
To trouble thee; it haunts thee; it does gibber
Affrightful words even to thy very teeth
Against thee.—Chase it from thee, dear De Bruce;
I spoke not of it; I ne'er thought of it;
It is a pithless shadow which I hate;
Its arms are slim and fugitive as smoke;
'Tis good for nothing; I have found it so
To-day, and yesterday, and shall to-morrow:
But, in its stead, come Generosity!
Beneficence! come with thy golden band,
T'enlink th'obliger and th'obliged together,
As strong, as lasting, as th'eternal chain
That binds the solid universe to Heaven!
Accept, my lord; we will not bodge and boggle
At straws of compact and preliminaries,
Or fight for pennyworths of accessary,
When pounds of substance are agreed upon:
Accept thou, not unthankful; that is all
I ask—a simple sense of gratitude,
Obnoxious to no base external act,
Yet not the less felt cheerly in th'heart
Toward the free bestower.

LORD BRUCE.
If that feeling
Implies no mean surrender of my country,
No sacrifice of noble self-respect,
I will not scorn it; I will cherish it,
And keep it in my bosom warm till death.

KING EDWARD.
Enough; 'tis all I ask; do thou but deign
To live as conscious of the benefaction,
And wear it next thy heart; not like thy kinsman,
Obtrusive at the first with corp'ral signs,
Poor supererogatory services,
As hollow and unreal as his heart;
But, at the last, when the stale benefit
Has pall'd upon his glutted appetite,
Slighting the gift, and snuffing at the giver
With up-toss'd nostril of ingratitude;
I rue the day, when John De Baliol
Was honour'd by me; he deserved it not
By right of birth or eminence of virtue.
Thou, thou, my Lord De Bruce, should'st have been King;
Thy love of country, and thy rights deserved it;—
Yet, yet thou shalt be King.—Let but thy cousin,
Stript utterly of power, be fairly roll'd
Down to the bottom of Privation's gulf,
Thou shalt be up and towering. For this end
We both must work, each with his instruments:
I with my power will pass into your land,
Your name my pass, and my authority,
To get and gather up from sea to sea,
For you her walled towns and fortresses.
Thou must up-muster and excite thy friends,
By letter and suggestion, in thy cause,
That they may operate with me to scatter
Thy rival down to shreds, and fix the crown
Upon thy head, with all th'appendages
Of power into thine hands.

LORD BRUCE.
My cousin's throne
Was never stablish'd in his people's love;
A finger's impulse, then, will push him down
So low, his friends will quit him in despair;
My friends are many, great, and high of zeal,
Requiring but your grace's gracious word,
Abetting of my rights, to rise at once,
And take possession of the land for me:
I will address them to this purport, all,
Athol and Marr in chief.

KING EDWARD.
And instantly,
Ere John have time to barricade himself
Within his castles to your prejudice.
Meanwhile, I with my host will pass along
From Berwick, sweeping all the eastern coast,
Castles, and towns, and forts, into your net
Of occupation:—We shall meet at Edinburgh:—
There shall my hostile circuit terminate:
Reach you at Stirling and the northern holds,
I will secure the south; of this anon
You shall have word.—Go then, De Bruce, work out
With me thy way to empire, and may Fortune
Gladden us both in th'issue.

LORD BRUCE.
For this task
I take my leave of your much-honoured highness,
Intrusting my good cause into your hands.
Farewell!

KING EDWARD.
Adieu, De Bruce! Heaven's grace protect thee
Until the golden sequel. [Exit Bruce.]
Marry, heigh—
He's gone—and gull'd, and carries off with him
A treasury of hopes, all bladder-blown,
As vain, as gilded, and as sure to burst
As sun-bright bubbles on the stream at mid-day.
How easily the man was duped and caught!
His patriotic bluster, and his bounce
Of independence, and no fealty,
Fell flat to silence, when my well-timed hook,
Baited with glittering forgery of empire,
Had griped him by the cheek: So readily
He that is wont to overcrow the most,
And mouth the heavens with patriot braggardism,
Glides down unconsciously into the trap
Of courage-cowing rank self-interest.
So be it now and ever! Thus do kings
Manage the world, and with their little fingers
Twiddle and turn the wisest men about,
Till they wax dizzy, and their mouths renounce
The very words that were their boast before!—
For Berwick, now;—Approach, De Bek—what, ho!—
What is the matter that your face is fallen,
Looking disaster?

Enter De Bek.
My looks, most honoured master,
Precede my words to warn you bad is coming.
Prepare your royal ear for misadventure:
A courier hath from Berwick just arrived,
With tidings that three hundred Scottish spears
Have overpower'd your royal lieges there,
And fenced the city.

KING EDWARD.
Ha! hath crownless John
Shot out his venom in anticipation
So sudden, ere he wist his crown was off?
Go to, declare it fully.

DE BEK.
That stout Abbot,
That did outface you and your Parliament
With his proud preachment of remuneration,
Had, like a felon-fox, stol'n back with life
Into his land t'advertise it of war:
In every village he made proclamation,
In every town he hoiz'd his signal up,
Edward is coming, countrymen! Whereat
The popular opinion, that had warr'd
With John, now with a contrary rebound
Enclasp'd him with applause: And furious men
Sprung from their houses, clad in coats-of-mail,
Demanding leave to let out English blood.
Chiefly the gentry of war-loving Fife:
Impatient they, unheaded and uncaptain'd,
O'ersail'd the Forth in ships, and in a band
Came down on Berwick.

KING EDWARD.
They shall never leave it!
I'll hew them down to pieces o'er her gutters.
St Mary, I shall revel in Dunfermline
One day for this!

DE BEK.
Our navy, congregate
From many sea-ports into Berwick Creek,
Hath been destroy'd, with insult and with spite.
Ten ships were sunk with all their gasping crews;
Ten were seen burning as the post came off,
Tackling and sails, and masts and mariners,
Conflagrant all, and steaming up to heaven
In dusky volumes of fire-shrouding smoke.
Only a few tow'd out to sea had 'scap'd
With their scared shipmen.

KING EDWARD.
Ah, ye boors of Fife!
This little fire, this little wooden fire,
Shall balanced be with bonfires of destruction,
Anointed with your children's best of blood:
Vengeance, arouse thee! O, awake to wrath,
Thou goddess Nemesis!

DE BEK.
They have the town
Fortified fully.

KING EDWARD.
Let them try to keep it;
I'll have it ere Good-Friday be o'erpass'd;
The Holy Pask must be commemorated
This year with corpses and with damned work.
Hence, hence! we linger here too long; come, sound
The trumpet for my merry men to march
For Berwick straight: There's bus'ness for us there.
St George and vengeance guide us!

[Exeunt.