WALLACE

I'll die, or in thy heart blood wash this infamy. Shift for your selves, it'll prove a stormy day. And say the moat be fifty fathoms deep, Fifty times fifty, say it reach through to hell, Wallace will swim't. Why should proud Selby, though his forward son Were justly slave, imprison Peg? Poor Lamb she is no murderer. With Peggy, father, manacles of grief, Hang heavy on my senses. What thunderclap was that? Able to waken death or shake the shroud From off a dead men shoulders, Peggy die, Should thunder speak it, Wallace would swear it lies, Who spoke that, fatal Nuntio? Whence, from the Devil? The charitable Angels waft her to heaven. How shall we save her, singly as I am I will oppose me against the town of Lavercke, Swim the vast moat, and with my trusty sword Hew down the Castle-gates, dishinge the doors, File off her irons, and through a wall of steel Attempt her rescue. Impossible, what's the news from England's? Sir John Graham, you shall be the engine Our policy must work with, straight give out That hearing of the English expedition, Our faction is dissolved. Much, this rumour Blown through the Land will stay the English forces, And give us time and means to strengthen ours, That once in act, repair to Hasterig, Selby and Thorn, urge Peggies innocence, And for her freedom and your own make faith, To yield me prisoner, it'll be no doubt excepted, Your self once pardoned, and your daughter free. Prospered destiny, If the great cause we undertake be good, It'll thrive, if not, be't washed in Wallace blood. Traitorous man, Is this thy love? these thy deep promises? Art thou their Aspies? See Selby here's the hand Cleft thy sons heart. Thou knowest not thy own eyes, May feed the Crows assoon as mine, Toads and Snakes May dig their lodgings in thy breast, And Devils make faggots of thy bones first, But my sentence. Why Grimsby, if I fallen, It's but to gather stronger force to rise, For as a ball's thrown down to raise it higher, So death's rebound shall make my soul aspire The glorious clouds, so long I die secure. Death cannot threat more then I dare endure. Shall Wallace live till his own blood prove false, Why, that can never be till palsy age Hath thrust his icy fingers through my veins, And frozen up the passages of blood. Close with advantage, put your selves in Arms, And cease their forfeit lives, this holy Frien Shall first bestow a matrimonial band Of our united love, and then my sword Like winged lightning shall prepare a way, To Lavercks doom. Then fate dissembles with me, this the second time She has by vision summoned me to arms, Pursue the slaughter, while I, salvation shield me. Fryer Gertrid answer me, what barbarous hand Has cast my friend into this cold dead sweat, Resolve me gentle Father, felon death, Tha'st acted sacrilegious burglary, and told my father. No excuse. This is all perfect English, have you yet spoke? The fitter him that undertakes it, Wallace Would hold himself not worthy of his fate Should he bawke danger, dissuade not, I will on Were certain death against my bosom bent, There's gain in blood it's honorably spent. Exit. Whare man? till the English Camp senu you, gad sides you gang as I have seen money a your Country men Like rank riders amble up westward, you gang the wrang weigh man, you shall luse and you play at shoola groat, have you nam linckers? Gan alang man 'tis hard by now, a men head I deempt the pure man had gaugand Long to law And sae was thrust out of doors by head and shoulders. Ah bonny men, I met um play and at bopeep, & gangand out a their way, and shall I be hanged for my good deeds of charrity, I'ze a poor Scutch soldier, and am ron away from that Rebel Wallas, to fight and for your Good Prince, ah he's a Good King, and you're all bonny men, I'ze follow you all to the death, and to the Devil, and any man dare gang so far for all my clutches, giffe I clutch Wallace, he's near carry it till hell nor heaven. I'ze not run away From ye, giffe I do hang me and drae me, cum bully Joe, I dare not gang to the Scots Camp, isle sa slay upon me, I'm near cum back again, but lze bring you where ye shall see that Lown Wall lace. Marry shall I, luck to your self, I'm thrust you into the Dewles chops. I am a drowned rat. Pox rot you, I am shipwrecked, Give me some meat. I am necessities slave, and now must bear. Well they are. Right sir. Sets down the Trunk. Hunger is good, and two Woodcocks are good, But the feathers of those two Woodcocks must be plucked first. Y are a scurvy Justice, yare man's and Ass, and you another with a velvet footcloth on your back, I ken you vary weel, and I'm knock you vary weel, if any thing be worth victales, it goes down here. Wiseacres, if you would fain know who ha God this trash from ye, it's I, Wallace the Scot. D'e you grumble? raise the Devil and spare not. Wertenberg thou a chest of gold, I'de give thee all for victuals, Hunger, they say, will break stone walls, Your chops are not so hard, You shall burst though with iron ribs you were bared, —victuals—wine too,—few justices do feed the hungry thus, oh these Wiseacres are the bravest fell lowes, specially English Wiseacres. And when tha'st hanged thy self, whither dost think to go then? Who dwells hereabout? Thou shalt have fire anon old man, ba', murdered? What shouldst thou be? the face of Haslerig, It's he, just heavens you have bestowed my office Upon some other, I thank you that my blood Stains not my hand, however both did die (In love or hate) both shall together lie, The Coffin you must sleep in is this Cave, Whole heaven your winding sheet, all earth your grave, The early Lark shall sadly ring your Knell, Your Dirge be sung by mournful Philomel, Instead of flowers and strewing herbs take these, And what my charity now fails to do, Poor Robin-redbrest shall, my last adue, I have other streams to swim through, or calm Venture, it's brave when danger's crowned with palm. And so retiring be held runaways. Here stands my body, and ere this English Wolves Stretch their jaws never so wide, from hence shall drive I'll rather lie here fifty fathom deep, Now at this minute, then by giving back One foot, prolong my life a thousand years. Fallen back? not I, death of my self is partly, I'll never fly my self, heres no false heart: Lets in our rising be, or in our falls Like bells which ring alike at Funerals, As at Coronations, each man meet his wound, With selfsame joy as Kings go to be crowned, Where charge you? No, sir. Let Mentith, Wallace shall not. Were I to hunt within a Wilderness A heard of Tigers, I would scorn to cheat My glories from the sweat of others brows, By encountering the fierce beasts at second hand, When others strength had tamed him, let me meet The Lion being new roused, and when his eyes Sparkle with flames of indignation, I have not in the Academe of War So oft read Lectures, chief now to come lag, I'll have the leading of the Van or none. So, dishonoured. Well be't so then, the Rear, see you yond hill, Yonder i'll stand, and though I should see Butchers, Cut all your throats Like sheep, I will not stir Till I see time my self. Whose is the day? Who? Is the day lost? Unless the day be quite lost, I'll not stir. Why then descend amain, art sure 'tis lost? Then we'll win it again. Lets breathe and talk. You see I lift it not. Longshancks was never Sovereign of mine, Nor shall while Bruce lives, Bruce is my Sovereign, Thou art but bastard English, Scotch true born, Th'art made a mastive amongst a herd of wolves, To weary those thou shouldst be shepherd of. The fury of the battle now declines, And take my counsel, though I seem thy foe, Wash both thy hands in blood, and when anon The English in their Tents their deeds do boast, Lift thou thy bloody hands up, and boast thine, And with a sharp eye note, but with what scorn, The English pay thy merit. Darest thou alone meet me in Glasgow -more, And there I'll tell thee more? No more, I'll ride. Jack Mentith, I do laugh to think what face, Longshancks will make, when he shall hear what guests Will dine with him in's Court on Christmas day. O! some charm for me to be invisible there, and see him. Thou art a lying spirit. Whom did you meet? It is not yet his hour. Do. Where am I? Bruce my Sovereign? My blood is sold, this is not Glasgow -more, Some villain hath betrayed me. Common and Mentith? Something it was that made the modest night Look angry on the world, I this was it, And this was it that cleft my father's grave, And raised him from his monumental bed of earth To give me gentle warning, this was it, That made my star, when all the rest looked pale, Blush Like a fiery Meteor, can Heaven wink at this? Not of thy acting? Not here. Why then go act them there, Boast of them there, in that black Kingdom tell That by a true subject a base Rebel fell. Hear me speak King Edward. First hear me speak, Farewell, to all the World, I would met death too often to fear him now, Only it grieves me that I have not freed Scotland my native soil from tyranny, Bruce, thou hast a Kingdom, loose it not. I go to one too, And on my grave, when death hath there down laid me, Be this my Epitaph, mine own betrays me— Exit. Slave! th'art a villain Selby. Look to my wench. We are no Stares to die by dozens. Your first man I Sir. Look to my Peggy. Exeunt. Now Sir, your cold words. Is that all? I love her too, can any words more cold, Strike to your heart? No. Umh, neither. But the Due lekens not whither, If you can win her, wear her, she's wholly mine. She is, our Lass are not English common, I'm right Scotch bred, till death stick to a woman. When? This Whinyard. Our swords do now agree, and of one length and scantling. Why should not we, if we must Surgeons Have to morrow or anon If not as good now, it's the English fashion To swagger it out, and then drink and then fight And kill in cold blood having slept found all night, And oftentimes all gashed, the seconds fallen, When home in whole skins come the principal. So about words, the Lawyer wrangling stands, And loses in mean time his clients lands. I feel no sickness. A mild exchange, Angels approve it. Rare resolution, what weak heart would faint, Having so constant a companion? Selby my soul's bound on a glorious voyage, And would be freed out of this jail of flesh, Then hinder not my voyage. All's one, Axe, halter, famine, martyrdom, or fire, All are but several passages to heaven, Let my soul go the furthest way about, Come tired with tortures, shooting out my heart, The deepest wounds, Like strong Certificates Find kindest welcome. I outdare the worst, He is no man that is afraid of death, And Wallace his resolve shall outlive breath. How can he be a rebel was never subject? What right has Edward to the Crown of Scotland (The sword except) more than my self, or Grymsbie? Then what cause, Juster thou mine? respected Country man, Thou hast been nobly valued, and held rank With best deservers, look upon the wounds And mortal stabs of that distressed breast That gave thee suck; see thy poor brothers slaves, Thy sisters ravished, and all outrages That bloody Conquest can give licence to, See this, and then ask Conscience if the man That with his blood seeks general reformation Deserves the name of Traitor, Whither dost lead me? In heaven or in a slumber, who resolves me? Speak, am I dead, or living? or asleep? Or all, or both, or neither? tell me fate. Me thinks I see my Father, warlike Graham, The Fryer, what Peggy too? I prithee joy Do not ore-flow my senses, dearest friends Peg, Father, Coming, Mentith, Graham, see I am new moulded, and here stands the creature That by a warrant granted from the Queen Formed me from out a second Chaos breathed New life, new motions, new dimensions, To tell the story were to shame the world, And make all mankind blush. Entreat not, you are guilty both. And parties in the dearest robbery, Then though my wife and father (mercy fate,) Play not the tyrant with me, do not try My senses boar their weak ability, Cease to afflict me, or I shall turn Rebel, And breathe invectives gainst thy power. Torture above endurance, King of dreams dissolve my vision. Oh if I be, let my soul never sleep, In the blessed bosom of my Ancestors, Till I have drawn a sea of purple tears From forth the bosoms of the murderers, Dear Peggy, father, Gertrid, which way, where How, when, what means, what cause shall I devise To find it out, and venge your tragedies? And house it here. Honoured Grimsby, This and ten thousand, thousand more extremes Cannot appease my anger, you that love me See those I loved inhumed, my self disguised, Will be their Convoy to the English Camp, And see their usage. How now, what dost look for? Art weary of thy life? Stay, famine shall not kill thee, fit and eat Thy belly full, thy cares in good wine drown, By my own fallen I pity others down, Is't not good cheer? Why then farewell, I'll make what haste I can to follow thee, Bruce, Bruce, I am here, it's Wallace calls thee, Dares thee. Hence, hie you before, keep close in the wood, Break forth if you spy treason, if not, not. What's that to thee? It was my wife, what horror meet I here? No Armour in the world can hold out fear. Yes Grimsby, Wallace can show a massacre will prove Thine but a may-game. The bloody acts Contrived and plotted by experienced villains. Judge, they all spoke English, Death best becomes that Dialect, The first was bloody Hasleriggs, the second More villain-like was Selbyes, but the third All had a hand in. Welcome, your business? Still charitable English. Thanks for thy kindness. Lords Ambassadors, Such we esteem you, may we crave perusal Of your commission? Good, his name is not inserted, One call out a headsman. Were't thou the King, Having no portion in the Embassy, I'de have thy head, go on, and strike it of, A second cut his tongue out, and a third Thrust out their eyes, and put their followers to the sword. I ken it vary weel. I'ze not gangan to hanging yet. By my sawle the English are gallant men. Ah bony man! Yet so thirsty scarce can speak, If you be men, help me to food and fire. A Scot, give me some victuals pray. Over head and ears, sir. The Rear. You shall have blows your guts full, I am no traitor. I am to him no vassal, he's a tyrant, So tell him, ere his frown shall bend my knee, This shall be hanged upon the gallow tree, For my appearance tell him this, I'll dine On Christmas day next in his English Court, And in his great Hall at Westminster, at's own board, We'll drink Scotch healths in his standing cups of gold: His black Jacks hand in hand about his Court Shall march with our blue bonnets, we'll eat nothing But what our swords shall carve, so tell his Soldiers, We'll fit Like Lords there while they rail Like slaves, Go with Scotch threats, pay back your English braves. Defiance, Lets mad them more, they shall not sleep to night, Good Grimsby Beatrice a drum, let bonfires shine Through all our army, as if our Tents were burned, And we dislodged, but recollect our troops Into and ordered body, some thing we'll do To make our Chronicles swell with English rue. What will you say, if I win Bruce from the English? That's the upshot must crown all, I'm to meet him Before one hour grow old in Glasgow -more. Murdered? Bruce shall repent this deed. Dost start at this? then see a spectacle Of force to stay the motion of the spheres, Or strike the Sun dead in the brow of heaven, Look, and Like men short from the brow of thunder, Fallen seneeles, death wounds not so deep as wonder. Butchers do your worst, Torture, I spit defiance in thy face, And death, embrace thee with as kind a narme As if thou Wertenberg. All join hands, Thus Like a mountain Cedar Wallace stands Amongst a grove of friends, not to remove For Edwards thunder, nor the frown of Jove, I'll hew the yoke from off my countries neck, Or never house, this religious Fryer Is a full witness to the sacred bound Betwixt heaven and me, which on my partly I'll keep, Or pay the forfeit with my blood. Are they turned hangmen? They are welcome, let not one sullen brow Be seen in all this fiery firmament. Then we begin, And to a tyrant thus says a loyal subject, If Edward will confess himself a tyrant, And kingly felon, and make good such theft As he and his have practised, sue his peace By yielding up his and himself to Wallace, There's hope of life, this if he shall deny Rape, murder, ruin, all the brood of war Shall be let fly, and never be lured of Till they be gorged, and bated with the heart Of the proud King himself. Mountfort and Glascott, what third fellow's that? Blyncke at smaw faults then, make me the third man, and here's a bunny noise of Fiddlers to gang From winehouse to winehouse, a blind harper, a mute Cornet, and and old Scotch bagpipe worn toth' stumps. You marry am I, Body and sawle a true Scotch man born, but a true liegeman, hang him that does not luife your King, and your Countryman, what Good vi ctales is that which thilk bonny man that haz glazen windows to his lindging has tied up in his wallet there? Ne marry? nam law sa cruel, faith man faith, I luick'd upon a man a law not Long since that sent and awed man and his wife, and many barns a begging, he had better a slizand their weazond pipes, and cut their heads off, but whay was a sa bloody minded think you? Marry man, to get possession of the pure men house, but there was a cat ganged beyond the man a law. I'll tell you how, the man a law being God in, the Cat outreach'd him, and leapt to the top oath lindg king, and standand on the tiles, the man a law scoarning any ane to be abuife him, offer to fling and dingand down the poor puscatt, but she meawed at him, and cried hawd thou foul lown hawd, as thou thrusts out this poor man and his barns, sa there is ane abuife shall thrust out thee, stay blind man, here comes soldiers. Ize a Scotch man sir, you shall near find me in twa tales. My leg sir is not in my galligaskin and flop as yours is, I'ze a pure Scotch soldier out at heals, and am glad to bestirr my stumps, guide these Good men you're wronged Countrymen, wha that fawse traitor Wallace has misusand in sike wise. By my sawle sir would I might come To'th making of sike a match. What sen you man? Exeunt Mon. and Glass. Uva ho ro solemnizing fa, solemnizing fa. Solemnizing la, solemnizing la solemnizing la solemnizing la. Here boy, uva would ho ho, All hail to you two. I'ha met more then my match, Neptune and I, Wrestling for falls, he God the mastery, I'm with his beating bruised, weary, cold, weak, Liquored soundly. Would I had this trunk full of they. Cast up by the Sea, I was shipwrecked and lost all my company. Look up, be not afraid, there reigns no tyrant, Would thou hadst been with me at sea. Hadst thou and Atheist been, and God not known, Th'adst found him in the deep, there he's best shown, He that at Sea is shipwracked, and denies A Deity (being there saved) damned lives and die, Man no where in the twinkling of and eye Is thrown so near to hell, or raised so high Towards heaven, then when he's tossed upon the waves It must be a hand omnipotent there that saves, But how came you sir hither? Would? Elbow? idle: Selby my father's murderer? Think not upon it, fit eat heartily Thy last, fit down, I say, never to rise, Drink wine, drink deep, let thy soul reel to hell. I'll fetch dry sticks, And with two flints kindle fire, Beatrice out his brains: Oh that physic had the power to make thee young, I'de fetch thee drugs from utmost of the world, And then would arm thee, or, into thy veins Half my own blood I'de power, to lend thee strength, That I might kill thee nobly. How now? I'll seek for fire. Not I, eat and get strength, I'll seek for fire, Unless I be a devil (though I have cause To kill thee) yet my quick hand shall eschew it, Thy careless confidence does bind me to it, This mercy which I show now is for Gods sake, In partly of payment of his shown to me, If I should kill thee now, thou owest me nothing, Live, and be still my debtor, I shall do thee More harm to give thee life, then take it from thee, Heaven in my father's blood who is chief sharer, Shall strike for me a revenge more just and fairer. As I am, both come alone, no words to any. Would, if what thou seemest thou art, step forward, speak, I have faced more horrid terror. Saw you nothing? It my brains weakness then, I have seen strange sights, that anon I'll tell; If Grimsby we meet never more, farewell. Exit. My footboy only, who is tying up my horse. This should not be English, Or if it be King Edward is no tyrant. First pray pardon me, If Like the working of a troubled sea My bosom rose in billows, for though the winds That raised the storm be down, yet the deer ruins Lie still in view, a father, and a wife, Age, beauty, and religion, for thee Thousands shall weep, as many wives Shed purple tears for thee, as many Churchmen Offer their reeking souls in sacrifice, Court, City, Church, the Chamber of your King, The Chair of State shall be no privilege. Yet such as Edward Placed in commission, o was a churlish storm, And wretched I Like a forlorn surviver Left to inter their deer remembrances. But bid relentless Edward Send in the pirates Haslerigg and Selby, And in their hands letters of Murt subscribed, To make me Master of my own revenge, Or Like a Ball wrapped in a cloud of fire, Ruin shall fallen upon his palace top, Pierce through the roof, and in his chair of State Solicit Justice. Yes. Wallace will be more just Then see the Law of Arms disgraced Found Drums and drown their cries. Revenge beats at heavens gates for tyrannies. So now our tragic Muse jets on the stage, You that for seeing baseness want your sighed, Bear with this present our endeared, commends Back to the Queen, and say so much we tender Her sacred honour, weed not see it wronged Even in her Nephew, you that for sparing speech In honours cause are justly mute, conduct This eyeless messenger, abuse not our intent In the delivery, make speedy haste, Lest we be there before you, share in Like wrong, Lend him your eyes, and borrow you his tongue, If any question you about your harms, Say Wallace did it in the right of Arms. Exeunt English. What senn you man! a men scalp, I doubt you be three fawse knaves liggand yare heads together about nam gudenes, a traitors head is't not? Walas my Countryman, ay say upon him, Fauve lymmerlike would I had his head here too, Ized bear it by my sawle toth' English Camp Or near gang farther. And you could see it you sulled sea so man, Wallace Cut of my shanks too, cause I ran away from him To serve your Good Prince, hark man, I wear Nam shooen but wooden clampers. What Linen-draper? Whose that? Here's my hand, I am clear as innocence, had I meant treason Here could I work it on thee, I have none. The time. There I will untie A knot, at which hangs death or Sovereignty. O sir John Mentith I have cracked the Ice, To a design, which if it will succeed, England no more shall strike, nor Scotland bleed. Stay, if thou hast a voice th'art blood and bone, As I am, let me feel thee, else I'll think thee A sorcerous imaginary found: Stand me, th'art some English damned witch, That from a reverend Fryer has stolen his shape To abuse me—stay—art gone? no Hag I will not. It spoke sure, told me Bruce should Exit Ghost beckon king him to follow. be my bane,—cannot—shall not, heaven knows such things only. That eye hath shot me throw, wounds me to death, I know that face too well, but it's so ghastly, I'll rather with my nails here dig my grave, Then once more behold thee. Exit Ghost. Partly from me vexed spirit, my blood turns to water, I beseech thee affright me not—it's gone. My mind is shaken but the storm is over, What cry is that? Ill betides his soul, That speaks of goodness, thinks or meditates Of any goodness more then how to free Imprisoned Peg. Castle wears but a slender bolt of brick.