University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

—A Room in Edinburgh Castle.
KING EDWARD, DE BEK.
KING EDWARD.
The nest is taken, but the eagle flown;
Nought have you heard of him, De Bek?

DE BEK.
He fled
Out at the western gate as we did enter;
The cunning Cuming, with a thousand horse,
Stole him away, and on his scudding wing
Now wafts him tow'rds the north; I saw their skirts
Just disappearing as the battlements
I mounted to explore.

KING EDWARD.
Another chase!
Why, we must ferret out the fugitive,
Even from his farthest, darkest hiding-hole;
The hyperborean house of John O'Groat
Must be ripp'd up; if he should burrow there
Beneath the hearth, we'll tear it up and have him:
That is resolved.

DE BEK.
To pay us for his loss,
Th'expectant Bruce comes prancing from the south,
T'attend with gratulation thine arrival,
And fling himself into your grace's arms:
He prays admission to your highness.

KING EDWARD.
Humph!
So soon to vex me with remembrances;
I know the drift of his besieging suit:—
Howbeit, admit him.—
[Exit De Bek.
—This good man is too
Exact and scrupulous in all his points;
Would that his memory were less compact,
More of the nature of sea-govern'd sand,
That the quick waves of days might wear away
Half of its troublesome too-deep impressions:—
He must be clamour'd down, out-faced, out-voiced
With opposition and flat gain-saying;—
For why?—King's promises are high as heaven
Above exaction of precise fulfilment;
Nor be it his to dun and persecute
High Majesty for words of courteous course:
He comes;—I must conform my face to meet him.
Enter De Bek with Bruce; De Bek exit.
Hail, hail, my lord, and welcome!

LORD BRUCE.
Happiness
Circle your grace's person, and success,
With glory, sit upon your crown for ever,
Sov'reign of England!

KING EDWARD.
Lord De Bruce, I thank thee
For these thy wishes and too plain deserts,
In thus contributing with all thy force
To bring about this joyous winding-up.
Thou see'st we lord it in this royal crag;
The town, the castle, all the land is mine
Southward to Tweed.

LORD BRUCE.
I with my armament
From Annandale up-ranging, have reduced
The midland shires, compelling them to acknowledge
Th'authority of our combined names.
And Stirling Fort, ere this same hour to-morrow,
Possess'd by Marr and Athol, shall have shut
Her gates on flying Baliol, and up-rear'd
Predominant in kingly elevation,
The banner of our house, wedded full close
With England's staff of mightier majesty.

KING EDWARD.
The banner of thine house!—And wedded close
With England's majesty! England abjures
All intermarriage with a stranger's flag:
She conquers for herself, and will not brook
An interloper to come dabblingin
To challenge what her toilsome sword has gain'd:
Look up, my lord—the flag of England waves
Alone from this your fort;—if thou shalt see it
Twined in expanded amity with yours,
Then, then, thou may'st imagine to thyself
A right t'intrude upon me with requests,
And challenge kingdoms which thou conquer'dst not.

LORD BRUCE.
Not such, O King of England; were the terms
And golden lure of large encouragement,
What day thou stood'st upon our frontiers
Craving my name to shadow and excuse
Thy now-avow'd aggression on our land;—
Recall thy words.—

KING EDWARD.
I will recall no words;
Words perish with the breath that wraps them up.
My sword is trusty and imperishable;
My sword had ever but this one intent;
My sword hath conquer'd Scotland—not for thee,
But for herself:—What! had I nought to do
But go a kingdom-hunting for another,
Squandering the treasure of my subjects' blood,
And the dear sweat of mine own precious brows,
To fix th'invidious circlet upon thine?
Away, my lord, with these remembrances;
Time and occurrences have made them stale;
I hate them, and do hang them up for ever
Upon Oblivion's gibbet, that they may
Henceforth upbraid me not.

LORD BRUCE.
If so—my lord,
Farewell;—I leave thee with thine own glad heart
T'enjoy the bitter prize of perfidy;—
I go to weep for Scotland!
[Exit De Bruce.

KING EDWARD.
Go thy ways;
Weep down thy big-swoln haughtiness with tears,
And let thy mortified o'er-reached soul
Fasten avengingly upon herself
Self-accusation's ever-gnawing teeth,
Till she with fretting eat herself away,
And perish in a pet:—With thee I've done;
Thou shalt not plague me more. Thy kinsman now,
That ghost of royalty, remains to be
Laid in Annihilation's silent grave,
That he may not out-stare me in my joys.
About it, then, my heart; St Edward, aid me,
And grant our wish its glorious corollary.