Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume XXIV Part 20

[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 s.e.x 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 n.o.bleness 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, n.o.ble 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 eyeb.a.l.l.s 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_.