_Provost Ramsay_.--Your wife! Heaven preserve us! Weel, after a', I hae reason to be thankfu' I hae neither wife nor bairns on a day like this!
_Sir Alex_.--Behold an envoy from the English camp, Sent with proposals, or some crafty truce.
_Hugh Elliot_.--Let me entreat you, then, most noble sir, Give him all courtesy; and if his terms Be such as we in honour may accept, Refuse them not by saying, WE WILL DIE.
_Enter_ EARL PERCY _and_ Attendants.
_Percy_.--Good morrow, my Scotch cousins! My gracious sovereign, your right lawful master, Hath, in his mercy, left you these conditions-- Now to throw wide your gates, and, if ye choose, Go walk into the Tweed, and drown your treason; Or run, like scapegoats, to the wilderness, Bearing your sins, and half a week's provision; Or, should these terms not meet your approbation, Ere midnight we shall send some _fleeter messengers_. So now, old Governor, my master's answer?
_Provost Ramsay_.--The mischief's in your impudence! But were I Sir Alexander, the only answer your master should hae, would be your weel-bred tongue sent back upon the end o' an arrow; an' that wad be as _fleet a messenger_, as ye talk about _fleet messengers_, as ony I ken o'.
_Percy_.--Peace, thou barbarian! keep thy frog's throat closed. I say, old greybeard, hast thou found an answer?
_Sir Alex_.--Had my Lord Percy found more fitting phrase To couch his haughty mandate, I perhaps Had found some meet reply. But as it is, Thou hast thine answer in this people's eyes.
_Hugh Elliot_.--Since we with life and honour may depart, Send not an answer that must seal our ruin, Though it be hero-like to talk of death.
[_Enter_ LADY SETON, _listening_.
Bethink thee well, Sir Governor: these men Have wives with helpless infants at their breasts; What husband, think ye, would behold a child Dashed from the bosom where his head had pillowed, That his fair wife might fill a conqueror's arms! These men have parents--feeble, helpless, old; Yea, men have daughters!--they have maids that love them-- Daughters and maidens chaste as the new moon-- Will they behold them screaming on the streets, And in the broad day be despoiled by violence? Think of _these things_, my countrymen! [_Aside to_ PERCY, Now, my Lord Percy, you may read your answer.
_Percy [aside]_.--So thou art disaffected, good Sir Orator: Well, ply thy wits, and Edward will reward thee-- Though, for my part, I'd knight thee with a halter!
_Sir Alex_.--Is this thy counsel in the hour of peril, Milk-hearted man? To thee, and all like thee, _I_ offer terms more _generous_ still than Edward's: Depart ye by the Scotch or English gate-- Both shall be opened. Lade your beasts of burden-- Take all you have--your food, your filthy gold, Your wives, your children, parents, and yourselves! Go to our Scottish king, and prate of courage! Or go to Edward--Percy will conduct thee.
[LADY SETON _advances forward_.
_Lady Seton_.--Spoke like thyself, my husband! Out on thee, slave! [_To_ ELLIOT. Or shall I call thee traitor? What didst thou, On finishing thy _funeral service_, whisper In my Lord Percy's ear?
_Elliot_.--I whisper, lady?
_Lady Seton_.--You whisper, smooth-tongued sir!
_Percy [aside]._--Zounds! by the coronet of broad Northumberland, Could I exchange it for fair England's crown, I'd have my bodyguard of woman's eyes, And make the whole sex sharpshooters!
_Provost Ramsay_.--Wae's me! friend Elliot, but you have an unco dumfoundered-like look after that speech o' yours in defence o' liberty, and infants, and fair bosoms, maiden screams, and grey hairs, and what not.
_Sir Alex_.--Percy, we hear no terms but death or liberty. This is our answer.
_Percy_.--Well, cousins, be it so. The wilful dog-- As runs the proverb. Lady, fare-ye-well. [_Exit_.
_Sir Alex_.--On with me, friends--on to the southern ramparts! There, methinks, they meditate a breach. On, Scotsmen! on-- For Freedom and for Scotland! [_Exeunt_.
SCENE II.--_Town Ramparts_.
_Enter_ SIR ALEXANDER, RICHARD, HENRY, PROVOST RAMSAY, HUGH ELLIOT, _and_ Populace.
_Sir Alex_.--To-day, my townsmen, I shall be your leader; And though my arms may lack their wonted vigour, Here are my pledges [_pointing to his sons_] placed on either side, That seal a triumph youth could never reap. To-day, my sons, beneath a father's eye, Oh give such pride of feeling to his heart As shall outshame the ardour of his youth, And nerve his arm with power strong as his zeal!
[_Exeunt all save_ HUGH ELLIOT.
_Elliot_.--Thanks to my destiny!--the hour is come-- The wished-for hour of vengeance on mine enemy!-- Heavens! there is neither nobleness nor virtue. Nor any quality that beggars boast not, But he and his smooth sons have swallowed up; And all the world must mouth their bravery!--- I owe a debt to Scotland and to him, And I'll repay it--I'll repay it now! This letter will I shoot to Edward's camp; And now, ere midnight, I'm revenged--revenged!
[LADY SETON _appears from the window of the castle_, as ELLIOT _is fixing a letter on an arrow_.
_Lady Seton_ [_from the window_].--Hold, traitor! hold, Or, by the powers above us, this very hour Your body o'er these battlements shall hang For your fair friends to shoot at!
[ELLIOT _drops the bow_.
_Elliot_ [_aside_].--Now fleet destruction seize the lynx-eyed fiend-- Trapped in the moment that insured success! Thank fate--my dagger's left!--she has a son!
_Lady Seton_.--Go, worthless recreant, and in thickest fight Blot out thy guilty purpose: know thy life Depends on this day's daring; and its deeds And wounds alone, won in the onset's brunt, Secures my silence.
_Elliot_.--You wrong me, noble lady.
_Lady Seton_.--Away! I'll hear thee not, nor let my ears List to the accents of a traitor's tongue. [_Exit_ ELLIOT.
SCENE III.--_An Apartment in_ KING EDWARD'S _Tent._
_Enter_ EDWARD _and_ PERCY.
_Edward_.--Well, my Lord Percy, thou hast made good speed. What say these haughty burghers to our clemency?
_Percy_.--In truth, your Grace, they are right _haughty_ burghers. One wondrous civil gentleman proposed To write his answer on your servant's tongue-- Using his sword as clerks might do a quill-- Then thrust it on an arrow for a post-boy!
_Edward_.--Such service he shall meet. What said their governor?
_Percy_.--Marry! the old boy said I was no gentleman, And bade me read my answer in the eyes Of--Heaven defend me!--such a squalid crew! One looked like death run from his winding sheet; Another like an ague clothed in rags; A third had something of the human form, But every bone was cursing at its fellow. Now, though I vow that I could read my fate In every damsel's eyes that kissed a moonbeam, I've yet to learn the meaning of the words Wrote on the eyeballs of his vellum-spectres, But the old man is henpecked!
_Edward_.--Prythee, Lord Percy, lay thy fool's tongue by, And tell thy meaning plainly.
_Percy_.--Nay, pardon me, your majesty; I wot Your servant is the fool his father made him, And the most dutiful of all your subjects.
_Edward_.--We know it, Percy. But what of his wife?
_Percy_.--Why, if the men but possess half her spirit, You might besiege these walls till you have counted The grey hairs on the child that's born next June.
_Edward_.--And was this all?
_Percy_.--Nay, there was one--a smooth-tongued oily man-- A leader of the citizens; and one Who measures out dissension by the rood: He is an orator, and made a speech Against the governor: the people murmured; And one or two cried out, "Behold an Antony!" But he's a traitor; and I'd hang all traitors!
_Edward_.--Ha!--then doth the devil, Disaffection, With his fair first-born, Treason, smooth our path. So we have friends within the citadel. Sent they no other answer?
_Percy_.--I did expect me to have brought the whole, Like half-clothed beggars bending at my heels, To crave your Grace's succour; but, behold, Ere I could bid them home for a clean shirt, That they might meet your majesty like Christians, Out stepped her ladyship, and with a speech Roused up the whole to such a flood of feeling That I did well 'scape drowning in the shout Of Scotland and Seton!--Seton and Scotland!--Then did she turn and ask me, "Are you answered?" I said I was!--and they did raise a cry Of _Death or Liberty_!
_Edward_.--They shall have it--death in its fullest meaning. Haste, ply our cannon on the opening breach. Forth!--they attack the camp! Now, drive them back, Break through their gate and guards, Till all be ours! [_Exeunt_
SCENE IV.--_The Ramparts_.
_Scots driven through the gates in confusion_.
_Sir Alex_.--Woe to thee, Elliot! this defeat is thine. Where was the caution ye but preached this morn, That ye should madly break our little band, And rush on certain ruin? Fie on thee, man! That such an old head is so young a soldier! Here, guard this breach, defend it to the last; Henry shall be thy comrade. On, my friends! They cross the river, and the northern gate Will be their next attack.
_Elliot_ [_aside_].--"Woe to thee, Elliot! this defeat is thine!" So says our Governor! 'Tis true!--_'twas_ mine! Though I have failed me in my firm, fixed purpose, Once more he's thrown revenge within my grasp; And I will clutch it--clutch it firmly, too; I _guard_ the breach! and with his son to assist me! The Fates grow kind! The _breach!_ he said the _breach!_ And gave his son up to the power of Edward!