The Sun.
London, England, 1838-05-31 00:00:00

WALLACE-A TRAGEDY.

FURTHER EXTRACTS.

SCENE.-FALKIRK; AND TIIE FIELD OF BATTLE.

Enter EDWARD.

(He stands locking on, while his army marches towards Falkirk, and
beholds the Scottish army in the distance.)
Enwn an—Therel—What a glorious sight for hope to feast on!
My spirit sickens in a dream of joy,—
Whi-e vengeance murmurs music in my ear
That ravishes my sou!. Away ! away
•
Speed, speed to victory, my bands of death,
And swallow Scotland up I—Speed on, speed on.
My morning dream is realising there
With scrupulous circumstance of time and place.
Besides, I thought a chief of high descent
Stood foremast in the battle, and, look'd on
With devilish malice; while his powerful bands
Stood near in restless murmurs to be led.—
They march to meet us.—Welcome to the shock
Of breathless battle —Edward's song to havock!—(E.rit.)
Enter CUMMING, followed by WALLACE.
WALLACE—My lord, they come--
CUMMING— I will not be controlled!
March here—march there—make ambush—and such like !
My men are mine! and mine they shall remain
Unsundered—subject to no chieftain's order—
But what I give.—l claim the post of honour,
As due to birth, and muster-roll of battle.
And where's the chief dare thwart me in my purpose!
WALLACE—Is this a time to throw contention's brand
Among the chieftains ?—and the foe in hearing.
CUMMING—I care as much for them as they for you.
WALLACE—MyseIf am nothing; but the power conferred
Prompts me to speak the dictat,:-s of my duty.
CUMMING—Speak, man of power ! But where's the slave to mind you ?
WALLAcr.—I want no slaves, nor would I rule o'er such.
CUMMING—But you would rule o'er freemen—would you not ?
And make them slaves—.
WALLACE—Ungenerous thoughts away!
(Enter KIRKPATRICK in haste.)
What now, Kirkpatrick ?
KIRKPATRICK— To the charge, great chieftains !
Edward is close at hand—prepare!—prepare !
Enter GRAnAm in haste.
G RAllAM—Where's the Protector ?
KIRKPATRICK— Here, courageous Graham I
This is no time for speech, but for the sword !
GRAIIANI—What do you here with angry looks ?—away!
And order battle ere it be too late,
WALLACE—I'M all impatience, but the Cumming cools
On former resolution.

CUAIMING— Not at all.
My mind is fixed upon the post of honour.
GRAHAM—'That you may have fur me.
Enter STUART.
STUART-- But not for Me!
That post is mine I'll keep it.
CUMMING— You command !
STUART—No, nor you neither !
GRAHAM— But the Regent will—
CUIIMING—I mind no Regent's will—nur would-be. Regents.
GRAHAM—What—
WALLACE.

Graham! restrain your passion—

GRAIIA
Contemn you!
IVALLAcE—
GR 1114 M
I'll bold my tongue, although my heart should break—
Grasping my sword !
WALLACE

Hold, but for a moment !

Dear Graham! forbear.
I'm still.--

GRAHAM—
CUMM ENG --Let him proceed. I mind not one of you—
While at the head of my true hearted clansmen.
STUA RT —Hop'st thou to frighten me by vaunted numbers ?
CUMMING—Be modest, Stuart! if you would be wise;
Or I will teach you.
STUART • (drawing).-
WALL ACE— For shame!—forbear!—
Shall we, pledged friends in freedom's holy cause,
Disgrace our country by contentious broils
For preference of honour—when the foe
Pours down in wrath to level all distinctions ?
Let us to battle, chiefs !—there is the place
To put our jealousy to valiant test
In Caledonia's cause.
CUMMING— I want no guide !
STUART—Nor I be ordered from the post of honour.
GaAnAm—Let us to battle, and maintain that post—
STUART—My men are there.
CUMMING— A handful, at the most,
Compared to mine!
STUART— There's thunder in that scowl,—
But I have lightning to precede it—mark you!
I know your inclination—dark dissembler!
But curb it there :—and humble your ambition!
Or Stuart's family may do it for you.
CUMMING—What ! You their ch?mpion ?—My nobility
Would shame your ancestry, from Adam dowuwards
To your majestic self!—Put up your sword—
And learn to use it in a better cause,
When you have less to fear.
STUA RT (making a pass at hinz)- To fear!
WALLACE— Hold, Chiefs !
We should not boast of fortune, birth, or talents--
However noble. Far less, if our actions
Accord not with our lineage. In my mind,
chat man is noblest who serves Scotland most.—
Where is the post of honour ?—Let him take it
Who covets such distinction. But for me
The pest of danger is the post of honour!
One is our cause—be unanimity
Our motto :—liberty cr death, our terms.
See! in yon veld what spirits press to death.
CUMMING—But if they live what glory will be theirs !
WALLAcz--Indeed I know not.
CUMMING— They will conquer you.
WALLACE—But not my country—
CUMM ING— Nut, if I can help it.
WALLACE—That's worthy of your spirit, noble Cumming.
GRA RAM—Let us proceed to meet them.
CUMMING— When it suits me.
STUART—He will not be commanded—
Not by you

You !

C UMM I NG—
WALL/ken—Nor even requested.
CUM MING— What ! shall Cumming's birth
Brook insults here from upstarts of a day ?
WA LLACE— I am no upstart !—Cumming !
(Grasping his sword—but recollecting himself, puts
his hand to his face in deep emotion.)
Were it not

That Scotland's cause is dearer to my heart
Than its own blood—it would not bear so tamely—
But burst my bosom ere it suffered thus !
GRAHAM—What I—Wallace ! Chief—
CUMMING—He weeps that Edward's coming!—
WALLACE —I weep for Scotland—while I mourn for you!—
Who wants this emblem of authority ?
Here, Cumming, take it—
CUMMING (turning his back on WALLACE)—Yes—but but not just yet.
(Aside.)
WALLACE (throwing it at Cumittia'sfeet)—To me 'tis useless!— It
was thrust on me.
It came unsought—l took it for my country.
But what's its virtue in the eyes of others
If thus contemned you—example's standard ?
I would much rather bear the shepherd's crook,
And roam with freedwri o'er the barren heaths—
Than sit in Scotland's throne with—
Alarums taithont—Calls of " Wallace !—Wallace ! —.Edward charges ,
—Stuart—Graham—where are all our Chieftains?"'—They rush out
to battIe.—CUMMING remains.)
CUMMING—You sit on Scotland's throne ?—leave that to me.
STUART (returning)—Haste! Cumming; take the post of honour
(E.rit.)

(R 'reps.)

now.
CUMMING-1n proper time I will—when you have bathed it
With your heart's blood.—By heaven' my plans succeed
Beyond all expectation —Glorious fortune !
I grasp the sceptre of proud royalty—

- -
(Taking up the sceptre.)
But want the diadem —Hark !—they are at it !

Now, all ye fiends of dark disaster, wait
On Wallace and his crew !—trip up their heels—
Goad them with wounds—but show no mercy—Hark !
How merrily it goes !—Now, Satan! tempt me.—
Yon music is so sweet, I could not hear thee.