THE VALIANT SCOT.  
By J. W. Gent.  
LONDON, Printed by Thomas Harper for john Waterson, and are to be sold at his shop in Paul's Churchyard, at the sign of the Crown. 1637.   

To the right Honourable James, Marquess Hamilton, Earl of Cambridge and Arran, Lord of Even, Ennerdale and Arbroth, Master of the Horse to his Majesty, Steward of the Honour of Hampton Court, Gentleman of the king's Bedchamber, and Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter, and one of his Majesty's Privy Council in both Kingdoms.  
Right Honourable,  
Men's actions have not their difference always from the relation of their persons, for he that presented his King with a dish of water, having nothing else, made the gift acceptable. I would use the application to myself, having been one amongst your meanest followers in your Lordship's practical life of a Soldier: what I have I bestow upon you, and do hope though it be clothed in the light dressing of a Play, it will not be denied your Lordship's acceptance since it contains the Character which History hath left to Posterity of your own truly valiant Countryman: I most humbly beg pardon for my boldness, and that I may continue known to your Lordship, at the becoming distance of your honour's truly honourer, and humblest servant.  
Your Lordship's most humble servant and Soldier, William Bowyer.   

Actus I.  Enter Halserigge, Thorn, Selby, and Sir jeoffrey Wiseacres. Tho. 
FEllow colleagues, since it hath pleased our King,  
Renowned Edward, of his special favour  
To sphere us in this height of eminence,  
And makes us rulers over Scotland,  
let's show ourselves worthy the dignities  
Conferred upon us.  Sel. 
That's not by lenity,  
For howsoe'er the armed hand of war  
Has made them ours, they are a Nation  
Haughty and full of spleen, and must be managed  
With straighter reins and rougher bits.  Tho. 
alas,  
I find them easy, tractable and mild,  
Authority may with a slender twine  
Hold in the strongest head, then what needs tyranny,  
Use rain or bit, by this all doubts are cleared,  
'Tis always better to be loved then feared?  
And by your leave, Sir Thomas,  
We have good reason to defend our own.  Sel. 
You are as clear of danger, and as free from foes.  Has. 
As he that holds a hungry wolf by th' ears,  
The principles are true, trust not thy wife  
With secrets, nor thy vassal with thy life,  
Sound example proves it.  Ieof. 
And private policy confirms it, I could urge reason why, show cause, wherefore, and speak to purpose whereby, but my betters are in place, I know them to be pregnant, and a ready wit's worth all.  Sel. 
For our own safeties then, and England's honour,  
Let not us lose what our King hardly won.  Has. 
To that effect called we this solemn meeting,  
To which we have summoned divers: chiefly Wallace,  
Late Sheriff of Air, which office though the King  
Conferred on me, the haughty Scot thinks much  
To tender up, observe his insolence.  Enter Wallace, and takes his place. Sel. 
Presumptuous Groom, this is a seat for Eagles,  
And not for Haggards.  O. Wal. 
selby 'tis a seat,  
ay, and my grandsire's Grandsire have enjoyed  
And held with worship, and till Edward's hand  
Remove me from't, Wallace will still possess't.  Sel. 
Proud Wallace dares not.  O. Wal. 
selby, both dares and do,  
And must, and will, though subject unto Edward,  
I'm Selby's equal both in birth and place:  
Though in mine Office, Edward joined you with me,  
He never made you ruler over me.  Has. 
You'll find he did, read that Commission,  
And tell me then, if Selby or yourself,  
Be Sheriff of Air.  O. Wal. 
To what my King commands  
I humbly bend, resigning on my knee  
Both Staff and Office.  Sel. 
Which thus Selby breaks  
Over thy head, and now proud Sir acknowledge  
Selby your Ruler, and with your place resign  
Your Castle and your Lands.  O. Wal. 
That's not inserted in your Commission.  
What the King has given I surrender,  
For my Lands they're still mine own,  
Were purchased with the sweat of my dear Ancestors,  
And ere I lose a pole, a foot, I or the smallest turf a silly  
Lark may build on, I'll lose life.  Sel. 
At your own choice, either your lands or life,  
Or both.  O. Wal. 
Or neither, royal Edward's mercy  
Sits above Selby's malice.  Sel. 
Surly Groom,  
mercy's for subjects, by what Evidence,  
Charter or Service do you hold your Land?  O. Wal. 
Selby by none, that title which I had  
I have given my son, a boy of that proud temper,  
As should he hear thy insolent demand,  
Would pluck thee from thy seat, and lay thy head  
A satisfaction at his father's feet,  
But heavens forbid it, Selby thus it stands,  
Thou hast my Office, and my son my Lands.  Sel. 
He must show how he holds 'em.  O. Wal. 
So he can,  
And Selby will show evidence sufficient,  
Mine, my dear Fathers, and my grandsire's sword.  
He wears good evidence about him Selby,  
And will upon the least occasion  
Both show and prove it lawful.  Has. 
If the sword be your best plea, y'ave but a naked title,  
And by our authority we here command  
You and your son at our next general meeting,  
To bring in your Surrender, or undergo  
The penalty of traitors. Enter Sir John Graham.  Gra. 
Oh you the patrons of poor injured subjects,  
Do Graham justice, Selby's riotous son  
Assisted by a crew of dissolutes!  
Has stole my only daughter, and intends  
A violent Rape, or which more cuts my soul  
A forced marriage.  Sel. 
Inconsiderate fool,  
The boy affects her, and with my consent  
Intends a lawful marriage, 'tis a favour  
Her betters sue for.  Gra. 
Oh let 'em hate, my blood  
Shall never enter league nor hold alliance  
With him that hates my Country.  Sel. 
Rest your thoughts,  
He has her, if he likes her he shall wed her,  
And Graham as a dowry shall enjoy  
Thy present state, revenues, goods and lands,  
Fret out thy soul, he shall.  Gra. 
Shall?  Sel. 
ay, Sir shall,  
It's the highest favour conquest can afford,  
For a slave to join alliance with his Lord,  
And Wallace see present surrender made  
Or look for storms.  Jeof. 
So say I too, and 'tis not the least part of policy, neither.  O. Wal. 
Will have my Lands. Exeunt.  Gra. 
Enforce me give a dower.  
Misery decreed above comparison.  O. Wal. 
Complain unto the King.  Gra. 
The King alas.  
I have heard a story how the subtle Fox  
Having stole a Lamb, the family of sheep  
Drew a petition, and with full consent  
Preferred it to the Lion, he employed  
'Bout earnest and more serious business,  
Appoints the Bear Commissioner, to take up  
This bloody difference; the Bear empanels  
A partial jury all of Wolves, they choose  
The Fox their Foreman, they consult and find  
The sheepish Nation guilty, and with general breath,  
Cast, judged, condemned, and sentenced all to death.  O. Wal. 
Men should have souls.  Gra. 
But tyrants being no men,  
Have consequently none; complaints in slaves,  
Are like to prayers made over dead men's graves,  
Nor heard, nor pitied, heaven has imposed a curse,  
Which sufferance in time may cure, complaints make worse.  O. Wal. 
Then as it is let's bear't, win heaven to friend  
He that begins knows when and how to end. Exeunt.  Enter young Selby, and other gallants guarding peggy. Y. Sel. 
Mask her, come Peg hide your Scottish face.  Peg. 
Why shield I hayd my Scottis face, my Scottis face is as good as yare English feace, 'tis a true Scotties feace.  Y. Sel. 
I know 'tis sweet Peggy, and because 'tis not a picture for every Painter to draw forth, let this curtain be pinned before it.  Peg. 
Hang yare flee-flaps, na Scots woman is ashamed a that luke, that the master painter abuife guifes her, whare must I gang and now, fay, fay, fay, what lozel am I that am hurrand thus till and fra with swords and weapons, whay must backerd men gang fencing and flourishing about me, am I yare may-game?  Y. Sel. 
No Peggy, thouart my prisoner, but here's thy jail.  Peg. 
Are ye my jailer? what kin been you to the hangman? senu you? where's he? wha is that foul loon among you, that must be my hangman?  Y. Sel. 
Here's no man here your hangman, or your jailor.  Peg. 
Wha then be you?  Y. Sel. 
Your friends that hold you only in bonds of love.  Peg. 
I reckand mickle your luife, fay upon sick luife, the awd felon thief, luif and the true man's siller as you luifand me, I'd rather be a Scotchman's whore, than an Englishman's waif, and be dreave toth' Kirk with helters.  Y. Sel. 
Tell me what proud Scot loves thee, what Scot dare touch thee now thouart Selby's?  Peg. 
Hang thee, hang thee foul meazel'd loon,  
What Scuttishman dares guiff my love understood  
My case, on god's dear earth yow sud no farther gange  
As butchers kie tooth the grund he sud yow bange.  2 Gall. 
All mildness is in vain, take some rough course.  Y. Sel. 
Tothth' Church, away, I'll marry her there by force.  1 Gall. 
Away with her.  Enter Wallace, Coming, and Mentith, Peggy runs to Wallace. 2 Gall. 
Yonder's Wallace, and's true.  Y. Sel. 
The Devil and's damn be't, budge not.  Peg. 
O my luife these Southern Carls mickle wrang 'gainst me work, and now wad force me gang until the Kirk, and marry Selby, Wallace my Io not I.  Y. Sel. 
Unhand that beauteous prize, proud slave, 'tis mine.  Wall. 
Slave! thouart a villain Selby.  Y. Sel. 
Are ye so brave.  Wall. 
Look to my wench.  Com. Ment. 
Kill 'em.  Wall. 
We are no Stares to die by dozens.  Y. Sel. 
Back, the quarrels mine, and if one single Scot proudest of your swarm dares answer me, step forth.  Wall. 
Your first man I Sir.  Y. Sel. 
Hark Gentlemen, let not so slight a shower,  
Which yet lies hid and wrapped in one poor cloud,  
Be by rough winds (razed up by you) dispersed  
Into a general storm, to many eyes  
Of Scots and English shoots, quick lightning forth  
Already, but your absence will allay  
Those fires which else must kindle, get then away,  
Take shelter in yond tavern.  Omnes. 
Agreed.  Wall. 
Look to my peggy. Exeunt.  Y. Sel. 
Guard my love, he and I will only exchange cold words.  Wall. 
Now Sir, your cold words.  Y. Sel. 
This Scotch lass I love.  Wall. 
Is that all?  Y. Sel. 
Yes.  Wall. 
I love her too, can any words more cold,  
Strike to your heart?  Y. Sel. 
Is she your wife?  Wall. 
No.  Y. Sel. 
She's your whore.  Wall. 
umh, neither.  Y. Sel. 
She gangs with me then.  Wall. 
But the dew lekens not whither,  
If you can win her, wear her, she's wholly mine.  Y. Sel. 
She is?  Wall. 
She is, our Lass are not English common,  
I'm right Scotch bred, till death stick to a woman.  Y. Sel. 
And to the death thou shalt, no more but this,  
Thou shalt bear from me Scot.  Wall. 
When?  Y. Sel. 
Instantly.  
Make time Sir, of your weapon, time, and place.  Wall. 
This Whinyard.  Y. Sel. 
This.  Wall. 
Our swords do now agree, and of one length and scantling.  
Why should not we, if we must Surgeons  
Have tomorrow or anon  
If not as good now, 'tis the English fashion  
To swagger it out, and then drink and then fight  
And kill in cold blood having slept sound all night,  
And oftentimes all gashed, the seconds fall,  
When home in whole skins come the principal.  
So about words, the Lawyer wrangling stands,  
And loses in mean time his clients lands.  Y. Sel. 
Dost teach me fencing too in thy own school?  
I'll beat thee or be beaten, one draws short breath.  Wall. 
I feel no sickness.  Y. Sel. 
Yet thouart near thy death. Fight.  Enter 2 Gallants, Coming, Mentith. Wallace loses his weapon. 1 Gal. 
At it so hotly.  2 Gal. 
Kill him, 'tis fair.  Y. Sel. 
Inglorious conquest, for King Edward's crown,  
I'd trample on no enemy were he down.  
There— if thouart well, part.  Wal. 
I'll die, or in thy heart blood wash this infamy.  Y. Sel. 
Mercy on my soul. Dies.  Com. 
He's slain.  Men. 
Away.  Wal. 
Shift for yourselves, 'twill prove a stormy day.  Exeunt. A cry within murder, murder. Enter old Selby, Thorn, Haslerig, Peggy, and the two Gallants. Omn. 
Search, call for Surgeons, follow the murderer.  Peg. 
Wa is me, ligs my luife on the cawd ground,  
Let me come kiss his frosty mouth.  O. Sel. 
What Scot is't?  Omn. 
Oh, 'tis young Selby!  O. Sel. 
Ha'my son, who slew him?  1 Gal. 
That fatal hand of Wallace.  O. Sel. 
Follow the villain.  Peg. 
Ize jocund and we'll now.  Has. 
Lay upon her fast hold.  Peg. 
Hang me I reck not.  Tho. 
Away with her to prison. Exeunt.  Enter King Edward, Elinor, Percy, Beaumont, Grimsby, Prince, Sebastian, Bruce. King. 
Not all the blood and treasure we have spent  
Like zealous prodigals in Palestine,  
Goes half so near our heart, as that proud France,  
Knowing our merit should bar us of our due.  Per. 
France dares not.  K. 
Yet he does.  Per. 
'Twas not demanded.  Gri. 
How, not demanded? thinks the bold Lord Percy,  
That Grimsby dares not (lawfully employed) demand.  Per. 
But not command.  Grim. 
Yes command, Percy.  Per. 
Grimsby, thou canst do well in Garrison.  
Wear chamois for a grace, project for blood,  
Make eight days to one week, turn executioner,  
And hangman like send fifty in one morning,  
To feed the Crows, and live upon dead pay.  Grim. 
He's a man worse than dead that—  Per. 
Stop thy throat or—  Grim. 
What?  Per. 
I'll cut it.  Grim. 
Cut throat.  Per. 
'Tis a trade,  
By which few prosper, and yet thou art made.  Grim. 
A man as good as—  Per. 
A hangman.  Grim. 
A foul blot  
Lies in your throat.  Per. 
Thy foul-mouth, wash it Scot.  Grim. 
In Percies blood I'll wash't.  K. 
Grimsby you lean  
too hard upon our sufferance, and noble Percy.  
Our honoured second in all inward combats,  
Thou hast too many worthy parts of man,  
To throw thyself on this unequal hazard,  
Grimsby thou standst so much degreed below him,  
Both in descent and eminent quality,  
The many favours we have graced thee with,  
Blush to have been conferred upon a man  
No better tempered.  Bruce. 
May it please my Sovereign  
Confirm his grant touching—  K. 
The Crown of Scotland,  
Save other time, Grimsby thoust raised  
A storm which showers of blood can hardly lay.  Grim. 
Dread Liege,  
If all the youthful blood that I have spent,  
And wealthy honours that my sword hath won  
Waving the Christian Standard in the face  
Of the proud Pagan, in the holy Land,  
Merit the name of hangman, Grimsby casts  
Them and himself at royal Edward's feet,  
And like an out worn soldier, humbly begs,  
No pension (but look Percy) nor yet office  
But leave to leave the Court, and rich in stars  
To lose more blood, or win more worth in wars.  K. 
We will not lose thee Grimsby, valiant Percy,  
If love in us, or loyalty in you,  
Have any power.  Per. 
My sovereign's pleasure sits above my private passions.  K. 
Then join hands,  
Our subjects both the native of two Lands.  Per. 
Friends Grimsby.  Grim. 
Friends in show,  
But in my breast bloody revenge lies ambushed.  Bruce. 
Gracious Liege.  K. 
thouart no Musician, Bruce, thou keep'st false time,  
We strike a bloody lachrymae to France,  
And thou keep'st time to a Scotch lig to arms.  Elenor. 
Edward will be more kind to Christians.  K. 
Let Christians be more honest than to Edward,  
In expedition of this holy war,  
When France in person was enjoined to march,  
To work his safety we engaged our own,  
Cashiered his fainting soldiers, and on promise,  
Of so much gold at our return, supplied  
The French designs ourself, and is our love,  
And loss of blood, half which at lest had dropped  
Out of French bosoms, quittant with owe none,  
Pillage and play the free-butter for more,  
The news.  Enter Haslerig. Has. 
Dread Sovereign, Scotland is infected  
With a most dangerous surfeit, it breaks out  
In strong rebellion.  Edw. 
This is your Kingdom Bruce.  Bru. 
I have no hand in't tho.  K. 
Shouldst have no head, did we but think it,  
whose's the chief?  Has. 
One Wallace, a fellow meanly bred,  
But spirited above belief.  K. 
Some needy borderer.  
How is our bosom parted, is their power  
Of any strength? Bruce, leafy powers for France;  
If we but thought thee touched in't, warlike Percy,  
Beaumont and Sebastian fetch him in  
Or with a second and more fatal conquest  
Ruin that stubborn Nation.  Ellin. 
Gracious Edward,  
Though war has made them subjects, heaven defend  
Subjects should make 'em vassals.  K. 
We conceit you,  
If any officer of ours transgress  
Our will, or go beyond his bounds prefixed  
we'll have his head, he our high worth depraves,  
That our free subjects seek to make his slaves.  Has. 
We do not.  K. 
See we find it not.  Ell. 
Let Ellianor win so much favour as to march along  
Tho conquered, 'las we are neighbours of one clime,  
And live like them subject to change and time.  Grim. 
Royal Edward,  
Though Wallace and some spleenful dissolutes  
Wronged with the yoke of bondage cast it off.  
Let not the whole Land suffer.  K. 
Nor do we wish it Grimsby, should the fates  
But turn the wheel we might with them change states,  
Be Scotland's subjects, let but Rebellion kneel,  
we'll wear soft mercy, and cast off rough steel.  Grim. 
I'll undertake it.  K. 
Let messengers be sent,  
To question the proud Rebel, and if Grimsby  
Fail in his plot, Northumberland and Clifford  
Shall second him in arms, so slight a foe  
Must not detain us from our French designs,  
Our Queen has all our breast, and though we might  
justly perhaps confine your liberty,  
Bruce, we enlarge it, giving you command  
In our French wars, observe him nearly Lords,  
I have read this maxim in state policy.  
Be sure to wear thy danger in thy eye,  
France lights a Comet, Scotland a blazing Star,  
Both seek for blood, we'll quench 'em both with war.  Exeunt. Enter young Wallace, Coming, Mentith. Com. 
Prithee good Wallace.  Y. Wal. 
Ill betides his soul,  
That speaks of goodness, thinks or meditates  
Of any goodness more than how to free  
Imprisoned Peg.  Men. 
But hear me.  Wal. Laverek 
Castle wears but a slender bolt of brick.  Com. 
Turned mad!  Wal. 
And say the moat be fifty fathoms deep,  
fifty times fifty, say it reach through to hell,  
Wallace will swim't.  Com. 
Swim't, yes so wilt thrust an ox into an Eggshell,  
And roast it by Moonshine, but why should Wallace?  Wal. 
Why should proud Selby, though his forward son  
Were justly slain, imprison Peg?  
Poor Lamb she is no murderer.  Com. 
In my conscience she ne'er drew weapon  
In anger in her life.  Men. 
Not at sharp I think, but by your leave 'tis thought,  
She has practised in private; put Wallace to foil, and made  
Him lie at his hanging ward many a time and oft.  Enter Old Wallace, and Graham. O. Wal. 
where's my son?  Wal. 
With peggy, father, manacles of grief,  
Hang heavy on my senses.  O. Wal. 
Shake 'em off.  
Show thyself worthy him that thou call'st father,  
Or peggy dies.  Wal. 
What thunderclap was that?  
Able to waken death or shake the shroud  
From off a dead man's shoulders, peggy dies,  
Should thunder speak it, Wallace would swear it lies,  
Who spoke that, fatal Nuntio?  O. Wal. 
His breath.  
That gave thee being, Haslerig's returned.  Wal. 
Whence, from the Devil?  O. W. 
From England, and this instant  
But thou com'st in, and yield thyself, her life  
Dissolves to air.  Wal. 
The charitable Angels waft her to heaven.  Gra. 
Resolve you then to lose her?  Wal. 
How shall we save her, singly as I am  
I will oppose me 'gainst the town of Lavercke,  
Swim the vast moat, and with my trusty sword  
Hew down the Castle-gates, dishing the doors,  
File off her irons, and through a wall of steel  
Attempt her rescue.  O. W. 
'Tis impossible.  Wal. 
Impossible, what's the news from England's?  O. W. 
Grimsby the firebrand of his Country  
Comes to ensnare you, on the heel of him  
Treads a huge army led on by the Queen,  
Percy and Clifford.  Om. 
Torture and death itself cannot divide us.  Wal. 
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.  Gra. 
what's this to Peggy's rescue?  Wal. 
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 Haslerig,  
Selby and Thorn, urge Peggy's innocence,  
And for her freedom and your own make faith,  
To yield me prisoner, 'twill be no doubt excepted,  
yourself once pardoned, and your daughter free.  Gra. 
What rests for Wallace?  Wal. 
Prospered destiny,  
If the great cause we undertake be good,  
'Twill thrive, if not, be't washed in Wallace blood.  Exeunt. Enter Haslerig, Thorn, Selby, Sir jeffrey. Has. 
Is it by general Proclamation voiced  
That but proud Wallace yield, Peg Graham dies,  Sir Ief. 
The Criers are all hoarse with bawling of it.  Has. 
'tis time for providence to stir the King,  
(I know not upon what complaints) pretends  
This rank Rebellion rather, took his root  
From wrongs in us, than treacheries in Wallace.  
And sends his forces rather to examine  
And question our demeanours, than their treasons.  
We must prevent it, how think you, Sir Jeffery?  Sir Jef. 
Troth even as you think, policy must prevent it.  Enter Messenger. Mes. 
Sir John Graham craves conference with the Commissioners.  Has. 
Admit him.  Enter Sir john Graham. 
A man, methinks, of your experience,  
Respect and education should not link  
yourself in such a chain of counterfeits.  Io. Gra. 
Nor have I Lords, but for your best advantage,  
And England's good, traitors and dotterels,  
Are sold for all alike, he that will take them  
Must seem to do as they do, imitate  
Their vicious actions, strive to take upon him  
Their idle follies, join companies, and drive  
Them into a net suspectless.  Has. 
So did not Graham.  Io. Gra. 
Speak not before your knowledge, you detain  
My only daughter prisoner, will Selby  
And his colleagues free her and pardon me,  
If I dissolve the brood of traitors  
And give up Wallace in bands?  Sel. 
Let's daughter be produced.  Enter peggy. 
And th' execution for awhile deferred,  
Though in her cause Selby has lost a son  
And with him all content, so dear I tender  
The peace of Scotland and my sovereign's good,  
As give the traitor to the hand of Law  
And with her life take thine.  Ieff. 
Good policy.  Peg. 
ay trow, ye mean not Wallas his devoir,  
And doughty valour merits mare repute nor  
Sike fawe language.  Gra. 
A foul traitor,  
I have conversed with Wallace, thrown myself  
Into his bosom, mingled thoughts with him,  
And find him neither worthy of thy love,  
Nor my alliance.  Peg. 
Fay, sa, not sea, my bunny Wallace luifes me.  Gra. 
Yes as a Politician does a knave  
For his own ends, hearing thy death proclaimed,  
But he come in, I told him on't, he smiled.  
I urged thy love and constancy, still he smiled,  
And to confirm't he basely has cut off  
All his associates, and given up himself  
Wholly to me.  Peg. 
Hawd therefore charity, and wad ye give  
Him to his faes, that gave  
His blood to your protect?  Enter Wallace, with a guard bound. Gra. 
I will and have,  
For thine enlargement and my own I have,  
No more, here comes the Rebel.  Wal. 
Traitorous man,  
Is this thy love? these thy deep promises?  
Art thou their Aspies? See Selby here's the hand  
Cleft thy son's heart.  Sel. 
For which base villain I'll see thee hanged.  Wal. 
Thou knowest not thy own eyes,  
May feed the Crows as soon as mine, Toads and Snakes  
May dig their lodgings in thy breast,  
And Devils make faggots of thy bones first,  
But my sentence.  Sel. 
Here, Graham, for thy service,  
We enlarge thy beauteous daughter.  Wall. 
A mild exchange,  
Angels approve it.  Has. 
Next, thee to thy Lands and Offices we restore.  Peg. 
And what for Wallace?  Sel. 
Race him from your thoughts.  Peg. 
Razed been his name forth the  
White book of life that speaks it.  Sir Jeff. 
Hence.  Peg. 
Dear Wallace, thoe ane shrude  
Hawd not our bands, wees meet in yonder cloud,  
where na fell Southern nowther can extrude,  
Nor bar na fra celestial pulchritude,  
Aid gange thy gate, till heaven, and as we flay,  
Like turtle Dove's weese bill & find good play. Exit Peg.  Wall. 
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.  Jef. 
'Tis not policy, we'll rather set it forwards.  Has. 
Raise a Gallows fifty foot high,  
ye shall not go by water, we'll send you up a nearer way.  Wall. 
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.  Enter Grimsby. Gri. 
Stay th'execution, and having read this Warrant, know  
'Tis the Queen's pleasure, you send in this traitor  
Under my conduct to the English Camp:  
Rebellion of this nature must be searched,  
With sharper torture.  Wall. 
I outdare the worst,  
He is no man that is afraid of death,  
And Wallace his resolve shall outlive breath.  Gri. 
'Tis but short-lived else, first see him bound and hoodwinked,  
Then leave him to my care.  Sel. 
Bear with this Rebel, my love.  Has. 
My service.  Jef. 
And my policy to the good Queen and Ladies.  Grim. 
Come Wallace, now your pride draws near the fall.  Wal. 
Why Grimsby, if I fall,  
'Tis 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 than I dare endure.  Gri. 
No not a man more than my private followers,  
The Queen enjoins it. Exeunt Wa. and Gri.  Has. 
Farewell, valiant Grimsby, and farewell danger.  Ief. 
Policy and all.  Sel. 
The traitors fled, and Wallace thus suppressed,  
My sons bloods paid, and his wronged ghost at rest.  Has. 
And the whole land at quiet, where's Sir john Graham?  
we'll join him partner in Commission,  
'Twill be a means to make our party strong,  
And keep down mutinies, search out old Wallace,  
And hang the Carl at his own door, Sir jeffrey,  
Place tables in the streets, bonfires, and bells,  
Since without cause they murmur, let 'em know  
That with their knees we'll make their proud hearts bow.  
Sir Jeffrey, be you Master of the Feast,  
You keep the purse, if money fall out short,  
Send out for more, you have commission for't.  Exeunt.  

Act. II.  Enter grimsby, two or three followers, Wallace bound and hoodwinked. Gr. 
WHat talk'st of Conscience? thouart an apparent rebel.  Wall. 
How can he be a rebel was ne'er subject?  
What right has Edward to the Crown of Scotland  
(The sword except) more than myself, or Grimsby?  Gri. 
What greater right than conquest?  Wall. 
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 brethren 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?  Gri. 
To Northumberland  
And Beaumont.  Wa. 
butcher's do your worst,  
Torture, I spit defiance in thy face,  
And death, embrace thee with as kind a name  
As if thou wert.  Enter old Wallace, peggy, Graham, friar, Coming, and Mentith. O. Wa. 
Thy Father.  Peg. 
And thy waif.  Wall. 
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.  
methinks I see my Father, warlike Graham,  
The friar, what peggy too? I prithee joy  
Do not o'erflow my senses, dearest friends  
Pegg, 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.  Peg. 
May luive.  Gra. Fri. 
Our prayers.  Cow. 
And all our friendship like a coat of steel  
Stand betwixt him, and danger.  Wa. 
All join hands,  
Thus like a mountain Cedar Wallace stands  
Amongst a grove of friends, not to remove  
For Edward's thunder, nor the frown of Jove,  
I'll hew the yoke from off my country's neck,  
Or never house, this religious friar  
Is a full witness to the sacred bond  
Twixt heaven and me, which on my part I'll keep,  
Or pay the forfeit with my blood.  Fri. 
Heaven shield  
Many a tall wood oak been felled  
Ere Wallace stoop, heed Gentrid saw  
Theke sword shall keep in mickle awe,  
Fell Southern folk, many a cry,  
Fray cradled barns, ere he shall fly,  
Nurses sighs, and mother's tears  
Shall swell the clouds, till thy awne blood,  
Prove false thilk Crag sall ne'er lig dead.  Wal. 
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.  Com. 
The town of Lavercke, peopled only with English pride  
And overjoyed with thy surprisal are made drunk with mirth,  
Bonfires, bells, banquets, and the devil and all  
Invite our swords to their sad funeral.  Wal. 
Close with advantage, put yourselves in Arms,  
And cease their forfeit lives, this holy Friar  
Shall first bestow a matrimonial band  
Of our united love, and then my sword  
Like winged lightning shall prepare a way,  
To Laverck's doom.  Fri. 
Nea marry, stay a wheane,  
Dip not thy vineyard in the weambe  
Of Laverck's town, for giffe thou gange,  
Thouse weark thy lives friend mickle wrang,  
Thouse come back safe, but barn I fear,  
I'll never blinck upon thee mere,  
Kneel till thy sire his benuson crave,  
Next duty been till dig her grave,  
Kiss, kiss thy Peg, for well a near,  
Thase amorous twins sall ne'er kiss mare,  
Till in death's arms they kiss, thilk state  
Stands writ in heaven and sealed by fate.  Wal. 
Then fate dissembles with me, this the second time  
She has by vision summoned me to arms,  Exeunt. Alarum. Enter Haslerig one way, Selby, and Sir jeffrey with friar, Old Wallace and peggy. Has. 
Whom have you there?  Sel. 
Seeking the cave for shelter,  
See whom kind fare hath given us.  Has. 
Treacherous Wallace,  
The doting wizard, and dissembling woman  
Chief cause of this Rebellion, now revenge,  
Cloth thee in crimson, and prepare to feast,  
we'll tune such dismal music, as shall dint,  
Smiles in thy shallow cheeks.  Peg. 
Alas, for wae,  
What gars this Iewde? what ill intend ye man?  Has. 
To make rebellion fatherless,  
And murder a madding widower.  O. Wal. 
Oh, spare mine age.  Peg. 
Pity my beauty.  Fri. 
My religion.  Sel. 
Like pity, as thy barbarous son bestowed  
On my boy's life, I'll print upon thy bosom.  Has. 
Like pity as thy husband pitiless,  
Took on the widow's tears, and orphan's cries  
That kissed his, and hung about his knees  
At Laverck's massacre, I'll show on thee.  Sel. 
Thus fell my son,  
And thus the father of his murderer falls.  Has. 
Thus withered the pride of Laverck,  
And thus fades the flower that caused their ruin.  Jef. 
Thus religious cries Exit Haslerig.  
Were stopped with steel, and thus religion dies.  O. Wal. 
Wallace, revenge me as thou art my son.  Peg. 
Revenge thy wait,  Fri. 
Revenge Religion.  A Cry within, Wallace and Conquest. Enter Haslerigg. Has. 
Thunderbolts and fire rampire your throats,  
The slaves grown infinite,  
And moves in every place at once,  
Shift for yourselves:  
Proud Wallace recking in the blood of Lavercke,  
Like a fierce tiger nursed in humane spoil,  
Pursues the slaughter, the barren hills lie strewed  
With mangled limbs, such as the gentle night  
Rescue from death, fall in the morning flight,  
Then fly or fall for company,  
Fly from a rebel, but fate keep true course,  
we'll ebb like floods, to flow with stronger force.  Exeunt. Enter Wallace all bloody. Wal. 
Pursue the slaughter, whilst I, salvation shield me.  
friar Gertrid answer me, what barbarous hand  
Has cast my friend into this cold dead sweat,  
Resolve me gentle Father, felon death,  
thou'st acted sacrilegious burglary, and told my father.  O. W. 
Wallace.  Wal. 
No excuse.  Peg. 
Ay sea husband.  Wall. 
Entreat not, ye 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 bore their weak ability,  
Cease to afflict me, or I shall turn Rebel,  
And breathe invectives 'gainst thy power.  Peg. 
O my dear Wallas for the luive waif,  
For siuve of awe souls, and thy daying waif,  
Lift to my latter accens, and attend  
Of all thy joys the darn and dismal end.  Wall. 
Torture above endurance,  
King of dreams dissolve my vision.  Peg. 
Wallace is awake.  Wall. 
O 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?  Peg. 
I'll teach ye how,  
Selby and Haslerig been the fell bloodhounds  
Whae have hunted laife until thick toils of death,  Wa. 
Are they turned hangmen?  Peg. 
Religious cries, beauteous entreaties, and reverend wellaways  
Could not win grace or favour,  
Wallas revenge my death,  
And for a favour keep my hindmost breath. Dies.  Wall. 
And house it here.  Enter Grimsby, Coming, Mentith, and Graham. Gri. 
Where's Wallas? never eye  
Saw such a ruthless massacre.  Wal. 
Yes Grimsby,  
Wallace can show a massacre will prove  
Thine but a may-game.  Gri. 
Terrible and strange!  Wall. 
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,  
Fall senseless, death wounds not so deep as wonder.  Gra. 
Whose bloody act was this?  Wal. 
The bloody acts  
Contrived and plotted by experienced villains.  Gri. 
Who were the authors?  Wal. 
judge, they all spoke English,  
Death best becomes that Dialect,  
The first was bloody Haslerig's, the second  
More villain-like was Selby's, but the third  
All had a hand in.  Trumpet. Enter Messenger. Mess. 
English Ambassadors. Exit Mess.  Wa. 
They are welcome, let not one sullen brow  
Be seen in all this fiery firmament.  Enter Mountford, Glascot, and Sebastian. Wal. 
Welcome, your business?  Seb. 
Far more like a Prince,  
Than a base rebel looks the Northern traitor.  Mount. 
Thus to a rebel from a royal King,  
If Wallace will confess himself a traitor,  
And for his bloody outrages and thefts,  
Crave mercy, and submit himself to Edward,  
There's hope of life.  Wal. 
Still charitable English.  Seb. 
'tis not he sure,  
This looks not like a man should shake a kingdom.  Mount. 
This it he shall deny,  
Rape, murder, ruin, all the sons of war  
Stands striving for the prey, and once let loose,  
Shall not be checked, nor taken up, till rage  
Be tired with murder, and thyself in chains  
Hanged like a villain.  Wal. 
This is all perfect English, have ye yet spoke?  Moun. 
We have.  Wa. 
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  
shallbe let fly, and never be lured of  
Till they be gorged, and bated with the heart  
Of the proud King himself.  Seb. 
Now speaks a man  
Would thrust jove from Olympus.  Glas. 
Calm your spleen,  
For now speaks mercy, if your Countries wrongs  
Grow from abuse in Edward's substitutes,  
You shall have equal hearing, and the wrongs  
Punished in the deservers.  Wa. 
This should not be English,  
Or if it be King Edward is no tyrant.  Glas. 
What answers Wallace?  Wa. 
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 dear 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.  Seb. 
This was not Edward's act.  Wa. 
Yet such as Edward  
Placed in commission, oh 'twas a churlish storm,  
And wretched I like a forlorn survivor  
Left to inter their dear remembrances.  Seb. 
Good gentleman.  Wa. 
But bid relentless Edward  
Send in the pirates Haslerig 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 fall upon his palace top,  
Pierce through the roof, and in his chair of State  
Solicit justice.  Mo. 
Into his Princely ears I'll give your wrongs.  Gri. 
Will Wallace here advise?  Wa. 
Yes.  Gri. 
Then be ruled by Grymsby. Whispers.  Wal. 
Thanks for thy kindness. Lord's Ambassadors,  
Such we esteem you, may we crave perusal  
Of your commission?  Moun. 
Wallace shall command it.  Wa. 
Mountfort and Glascott, what third fellow's that?  Mou. 
One of our followers.  Wal. 
Good, his name is not inserted,  
One call out a headsman.  Seb. 
Ambitious rebel, know I am a Prince,  
And nephew to the Queen.  Wal. 
Were't thou the King,  
Having no portion in the Embassy,  
I'd ha' 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.  Omu. 
Wallace willbe more mild. Exeunt.  Wa. 
Wallace willbe more just  
Then see the Law of Arms disgraced  
Sound Drums and drown their cries.  
Revenge beats at heavens gates for tyrannies.  Enter Again. 
So now our tragic Muse jets on the stage,  
You that for seeing baseness want your sight,  
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 honour's 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.  Gri. 
This will affright the English.  Wall. 
Honoured Grimsby,  
This and ten thousand, thousand more extremes  
Cannot appease my anger, you that love me  
See those I loved inhumed, myself disguised,  
Will be their Convoy to the English Camp,  
And see their usage.  Gri. 
'Twill be an act of danger.  Wal. 
The fitter him that undertakes it, Wallace  
Would hold himself not worthy of his fate  
Should he balk danger, dissuade not, I will on  
Were certain death against my bosom bent,  
There's gain in blood it's honourably spent. Exit.  Gri. 
And such I fear will thine be, honoured friends  
See those remains of honourable love  
Cradled in earth, that once performed take Arms  
To venge their deaths, Mentith, I attend  
The coming of some special friends by oath,  
Bound to assist us, hark how their friendly drums  
Chide them for loitering.  Enter Douglas, Macbeth, and Wintersdale. 
Honoured Douglas, welcome,  
Welcome Macbeth, and doughty Wintersdale,  
Not, unto men more, driven in needful want,  
Could you have brought supply.  Doug. 
The better welcome,  
Gold to rich men, and treasure to the wealthy,  
Are known companions, where's our General,  
The hopeful Wallace?  Gri. 
Gone in quest of death,  
Firm as his fate, cause he sees danger shuns him,  
He's gone to seek it in the English tents.  Mack. 
So Hercules sought honour out in Hell.  
He not deserves, the name of General,  
Dares not face danger, and outdo the Devil.  Gri. 
And such a man is Wallace, yet lest worth  
Bears him beyond his strength, bring up your powers  
For present charge, his thoughts are tragical,  
And full of blood, active, and violent all.  Doug 
You that best know 'em, feed 'em, all that's ours,  
For Scotland's good call wallace's and yours.  Exeunt. Enter Wallace, like a halting Soldier on wooden stumps, with Mountford dumb, and Glascot blind. Wal. 
Whare man? till the English Camp senu you, gad sides you gang as I ha' seen money a your Countrymen like rank riders amble up westward, you gang the wrong weigh man, you sall lose and ye play at shoolagroate, ha' ye nam linckers?  Glas. 
alas I want my eyes, but have a tongue,  
He sees, but cannot speak.  Wa. 
Blink at small faults then, make me the thirdman, and here's a bunny noise of Fiddlers to gang fra winehouse to winehouse, a blind harper, a mute Cornet, and an old Scotch bagpipe worn toth' stumps.  Glas. 
Are you a Scotch man Sir?  Wa. 
Ye marry am I, body and soul a true Scotchman borne, but a true liegeman, hang him that does not luife your King, and your Countryman, what good victuals is that which thilk bonny man that has glazen windows to his lindging has tied up in his wallet there?  Glas. 
'tis the head of a young murdered gentleman.  Wa. 
What see you man! a man's scalp, I doubt ye be three false knaves liggand yare heads together about na goodness, a traitor's head is't not?  Gla. 
No, but we ha' met with villains worse than traitors.  
Wallace your countryman, that bloody hangman  
Mangled us all three thus.  Wa. 
Walas my Countryman, ay say upon him,  
Fawe lymmerlike wad I had his head here too,  
I said bear it by my sawle toth' English Camp  
Or near gang farther.  Gla. 
'twould be a glorious fight there.  Wa. 
And you could see it ye 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  
Na shoes but wooden clampers.  Gla. 
Of charity lead us to th' English Camp,  
Ye shall besides thanks be most royally paid.  Wal. 
Gang along man 'tis hard by now, a man's head  
I deem the pure man had gangand lang to law  
And sae was thrust out of doors by head and shoulders.  Glas. 
No law was ere so cruel as Wallas is.  Wa. 
x marry? nam law sa cruel, fay man fay, I looked upon a man a law not lang since that sent an 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 ye?  Gla. 
I cannot judge.  Wa. 
Marry man, to get possession of the pure man's house, but there was a cat ganged beyond the man a law.  Gla. 
A cat go beyond a lawyer? how?  Wa. 
I'll tell you how, the man a law being got in, the Cat outreached him, and leaped to th' top o'th' lindging, and standand on the tiles, the man a law scorning any one to be abuife him, offer to fling and ding and down the poor puss-cat, but she meawed at him, and cried hawd thou foul loon hawd, as thou thrusts out this poor man and his barns, sa there is one abuife sall thrust out thee, stay blind man, here comes soldiers.  Enter Bolt with three or four tattered Soldiers. Omn. 
Stand que voula, spies about our trenches?  Bolt. 
And see they have knocked some man down sirrah,  
You that carry two faces under a hood,  
What are you?  1 So. 
He must be pressed, he will not speak.  Bol. 
What art thou I charge thee? hast thou ne'er a tongue  
In thy head? give the word.  Gla, 
He has no tongue indeed sir.  Bol. 
Two heads and ne'er a tongue, what are you?  
That like a blind ass stand still, and cannot tell us so.  Gla. 
I'm blind indeed,  
Conduct us to the Lords i'th' English Camp.  2 So. 
How Lords, are you Ladies that you long for Lords?  Bol. 
Do you take us for gulls to go tell the Lords here's a dumb man would speak with'em, what are you sirrah? come halt not, let's not find you in two tales y'are best.  Wa. 
Ize a Scotch man sir, ye shall ne'er find me in twa tales.  Bo. 
A Scotch man sir, do you know where you are sir?  
Your blue bonnet on before an English scull,  
Where's your leg sir, when an Officer speaks to you?  Wa. 
My leg sir is not in my galligaskin and flop as yours is, I'll a pure Scotch soldier out at heels, and am glad to bestir my stumps, guide these good men y'are wronged Countrymen, wha that false traitor Wallace has misusand in sick wise.  Om. 
Wallas, oh slave!  Bolt. 
I shall live (fellows in arms out at Elbows)  
To give fire to my piece with a burnt inch of match  
Made of that rascals fat of maw-gut.  Wa. 
By my sawle sir wad I might come  
Toth' making of sick a match.  Bol. 
Here's my hand, because thou sayest so,  
Thou shalt be by when I make him give fire to my touchhole.  Enter Queen Elenor, Clifford, Percy, Beaumont, and others. Omn. 
The Lords are going to view the trenches.  Bol. 
Every man to his parapet,  
To your trenches you tattered rogues!  Cli. 
It's well done fellows.  Bol. 
Cry your Lordship mercy,  
This blind buzzard here cannot see,  
Whither will you march headlong my friend?  Per. 
What men are these?  Bol. 
I leave them to your Honours sifting,  
I have fortifications to look too.  Cliff. 
There's drinking money, hence to your works.  Bol. 
Bless your honours. Exeunt Bolt. and Sould.  Percy. 
What men are these, I ask, will no man speak?  Gla. 
Hear and in hearing wish the sound unheard,  
Youthful Sebastian nephew to the Queen  
Longing to see the man famed for th' excess  
Or goodness and of badness, seeing unjoined  
In honoured Embassy disguised attempted  
The rebel Wallace's presence.  Omn. 
Glascot and Mountford.  Clif. 
Who did this damned villainy?  Gla. 
Our message told,  
The traitor newly set on fire with madness,  
Showing the mangled bodies of a friar,  
His wife and father, burst out into flames  
High hot and violent, In which fierce rage  
Revolted Grimsby knew Sebastian  
(Though Herald like he went disguised) and seized  
Him and us for three intelligencing spies,  
Cut off his head, his tongue, and Glascot's eyes.  Per. 
Hang up this, provide for these, trufle him up.  Wa. 
What sen ye man? Exeunt Moun. and Glas.  Per. 
What slave, what Turk that murders his own brethren  
Durst play the tyrant thus? hang all the Nation  
Whom we have ta'en to mercy, I'll not spare  
Fathers, nor mothers, nor their bawling barns,  
fire their houses, hang up this tike first.  Wal. 
Ah bonny men, I met 'em play and at bopeep, & gangand out o' their way, and sall I be hanged for my good deeds of charity, I'll a poor Scutch soldier, and am run away from that Rebel Wallas, to fight and for your good Prince, ah he's a good King, and y'are all bonny men, I'll follow ye 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 ne'er carry it till hell nor heaven.  Per. 
If he do, may Percies name be crossed  
Out of the roll of men.  Clif. 
So much swears Clifford.  Per. 
Sneak not away sirrah, y'are not gone yet.  Wal. 
I ken it vary we'll.  
I'll not went to hanging yet.  Clif. 
Yet though a traitor, thus much let me speak  
For absent Wallace, were the case your own,  
Or one that's baser having any spirit,  
A murdered father and a bleeding wife,  
Mangled before him, would strike fire in snow,  
Make loyalty turn traitor, and obedience  
Forget all duty.  El. 
But our nephew's death  
And the disgrace done our Ambassadors.  Clif. 
They then put off their title, and put on  
The name of spies, when in their companies,  
They take disguised observers.  Wal. 
By my sawle the English are gallant men.  Per. 
No snare to entrap this Wolf?  Clif. 
How Northumberland, entrap a foe?  
Sure 'tis no English word,  
Clifford at least was ne'er acquainted with't.  
Give him fair summons, dare him to the field,  
And trap him then.  Wal. 
Ah bony man!  Per. 
His being a traitor warrants it, dispatch  
A second message with acknowledgement  
Of former wrongs to our Ambassadors,  
With promise of a friendly interview  
Early tomorrow, impartially to hear  
Their wrongs, and mildly minister redress.  Clif. 
Ensnare him so and spare not, for you'll find I fear,  
That Selby, Haslerig, and the rest  
Lay yokes too heavy on the nation's neck.  El. 
If they do punish 'em.  Clif. 
Punish 'em, 'sdeath hang 'em.  Per. 
Shall we agree to have such message sent  
To allure this bloody Tiger into th' net  
And waking then or sleeping kill him.  Clif. 
No.  Per. 
All stratagems are lawful 'gainst a foe.  Clif. 
Do what you will, but my consent is no.  Beau. 
I'll venture to the Rebel.  Per. 
Do good Beaumont, Scotchman dar'st thou conduct him as his guide?  Clif. 
But return sirrah, or the next time we take ye  
Y'are Crag shall pay for't.  Wal. 
I'll not run away fra ye, giffe I do hang me and drae me, cum bully Joe, I dare not gang to the Scottis Camp, th'yle sa slay upon me, I'll near come back again, but Ize bring you where ye shall see that Lowne Wallace.  Beau. 
That's all I wish; lead on.  Wal. 
Marry sall I, luke to yourself,  
I'll thrust you into the Devil's chops.  Exeunt Beaum. and Wal. Beau. 
For getting out let me scuffle.  El. 
Consult for present execution.  Cliff. 
What is, what should, what can this Wallace be?  
Whom fame limbs out for such a gallant piece,  
And is so curious in her workmanship,  
No part deforms him,  
Yet Wallace is a Rebel, his chief scandal  
Is poverty of Gentry, by my sword  
Were't no impeach to my dear Ancestors,  
I well could spare him some of my unused titles,  
Or would at martial gaming so I might lose  
And Wallace win so much of Clifford's honour,  
Our stocks might be alike, but I exceed,  
This night he is betrayed, he shall not,  
I'll turn traitor first he shall not,  
Call Beaumont back, or else by Clifford's honour,  
An oath which I esteem above my life,  
I will turn traitor, and reveal your plots,  
Call him back.  Per. 
Is Clifford mad?  Clif. 
No percy's lunatic, suppose he be a traitor  
And discipline of the field allow the act,  
What honour is it for a herd of yours  
To worry a sleeping Bear? go call him back.  Enter Beaumont with a wooden stump. Per. 
See he comes uncalled.  Clif. 
The news.  Bea. 
News call you it, let no Scot come near your tents,  
Wallace sends you this token.  Clif. 
Ha, how, Wallace.  Per. 
Was that the traitor?  Clif. 
By Mars his helm, a complete Warrior,  
I so love his worth, I'll court it with my sword.  Bea. 
Had you but stood in distance of his thunder,  
For, we parted just where our trenches ended,  
You'd ha' sworn the God of War had spoke,  
Quoth he, tell Percy, he shall not need.  
To hunt me in my tent, I'll rouse him in's own,  
And bids me give you this wooden stump,  
And swears to make you wear it,  
If you dare stand him in the field.  Per. 
Base Rebel, why durst he not stand here?  Clif. 
None prayed him stay,  
'twas manners being not welcomed to get away.  Beau. 
He sends, commends to Clifford, with this wish,  
That if at this great match of life, and death,  
He chance to lose the smallest part of honour  
His sword may join't, he knows best how to use it.  
At my return from France, quoth he, this vow  
Which I have promised shall be surely paid,  
Our Country overtopped with tyranny,  
Makes us fly thither for succour, Aeolus,  
Let favourable winds and tides assist me,  
That spoke, revolted Grimsby and his powers  
Met him in Arms, what further he intends,  
Hark their Drum tells, here my Commission ends.  Clif. 
let's send him commendations too, beat ours.  Exeunt.  

Act. III.  Enter Sir jeffrey and Bolt with a Trunk. Ief. 
Set down Bolt, I can bear with thee no longer.  Bolt. 
No more can I bear any longer with you, Sir jeffry, but what a reeling drunken sot is this sea, that casts up such gobbets as this, is this a windfall or no now sir jeffery? your Worship knows both the tags and points of the law.  Ief. 
Yes sure it is a windfall, for as we walked upon the shore, we saw the ship split, this fell out, the winds were the cause, therefore it must needs be a windfall.  Bol. 
Well somebody has had but a bad fish-dinner today.  Jef. 
The Seas have crossed them that sought to cross the Seas, and therefore for my part I'll never meddle with these waterworks.  Bolt. 
Nor I, let's be more wise than a number of gallants, and keep the land that's left us, did you ever see such gambols as the waves made sir jeffery?  Ieff. 
Never since I wore the nightcap of justice, and that this her dudgeon dagger was a my side.  Bol. 
Did you note what puffing the winds made till they got great bellies, and then how sorely the ship fell in labour.  Ieff. 
Didst hear what a doleful cry they made,  
When their main yard was split?  Bolt. 
Alas sir, would it not make any man roar that had but an inch of feeling or compassion in his belly to have his main yard split, and how the mariners hung by the ropes like Saint Thomas Onions.  Ieff. 
I saw it Bolt with salt eyes.  Bolt. 
So that you may see at sea however the wind blows, if a man be well hung, he's cock sure.  Ieff. 
But Bolt what dost thou think this to be?  Bol. 
A matter of some weight as I take it.  Ieff. 
I hope 'tis gold 'tis so heavy, and 'twas going out of the Land.  Bol. 
Like enough, for gold goes now very heavily from us, and silver too, both red chinks, and white chinks fly away, but sir jeffery, if this be gold, how rich is the sea, think ye, that has innumerable such sands?  Ief. 
More rich than the land, and more fat.  Bo. 
So it had need, for the land looks with a lean pair of cheeks, yet it has an excellent stomach, it digests any thing.  Ieff. 
Then 'tis like the sea, for all's fish that comes to net there.  Bol. 
I'll tell you the mystery of that, look what mouths gape at land, the self same gape at sea, all the land is one kingdom, and all the sea another.  Ief. 
And people in't.  Bo. 
And people in't (right worshipful) but they all go Westhod, as there are good and bad here, so there are good and bad there, gulls here, gulls there, as great men here eat up the little men: so Whales feed upon the lesser fishes.  Ie. 
Belike then the watery common wealth are ill governed.  Bo. 
No bravely, for heroical Hector Herring is King of fishes.  Ie. 
So.  Bo. 
Rich cobs his good subjects, who at Yarmouth lay down their lives in his quarrel, swordfish and Pike are his guard.  Ie. 
On.  Bo. 
Fresh Cods the gallants, and sweet slipper the Knights, whiting-mops the Ladies, and Lillie-white-mussels the waiting-gentlewomen.  Ie. 
Dangerous meat to take too much of.  Bol. 
But who the pages?  Ie. 
Shrimps.  Bo. 
No, no sir, periwinkles are the pages, periwinkles.  Ie. 
No justices among them?  Bo. 
Yes sir jeffery, thornbacks are the justices, Crabs the Constables, whom if you butter with good words, 'tis passing meat at midnight.  Ie. 
Ah, ha.  Bo. 
Dogfish are jailors,  
And Stockfish the poor common people.  Je. 
Indeed they live hardly.  Bo. 
But sir they are beaten to't, then have you wet Eels for whores, and great Oysters for Bawds.  Ie. 
Why great Oysters Bawd?  Bo. 
Because for the most part they are stewed.  Ie. 
Very good.  Bo. 
Lastly, because no Kingdom can stand without laws, and where law has her eyen, there Lawyers & pettifogger's swarm, therefore the Lawyers here are sharks, and gudgeons the poor Clients.  Wallace within. Wa. 
Wa ho ro sol fa, sol fa.  Bo. 
Hark.  Ie. 
Peace Bolt.  Bol. 
Nay peace you good sir jeffery, peace, peace.  Wa. 
Sol la, sol la sol la sol la.  Bo. 
Some falconers teaching his Hawk pricksong, Shall I mock him in's own key.  Ie. 
Do.  Bo. 
Sol fa sol fa, here boy.  Enter Wallace. Wa. 
Here boy, wa ha ho ho,  
All hail to you two.  Bo. 
And all snow to you sir.  Ie. 
Sirrah what art thou that wishest all the hail to light upon us two?  Bo. 
Answer wisely to my master,  
For he's a justice of peace, and you'll be smelled out.  Wal. 
I am a drowned rat.  Ie. 
A Rat?  Bo. 
Do you take sir jeffrey for a Rat-catcher,  
You'll tell a sweet tale for yourself anon.  Wal. 
Pox rot you, I am shipwrecked,  
Give me some meat.  Bo. 
Shall I make his Mittimus? he begs sir.  Wa. 
Iha met more than my match, Neptune and I,  
Wrestling for falls, he got the mastery,  
I'm with his beating bruised, weary, cold, weak,  
Liquored soundly.  Bo. 
He's drunk.  Wal. 
Yet so thirsty scarce can speak,  
If ye be men, help me to food and fire.  Ie. 
What Countryman art thou sirrah?  Wal. 
A Scot, give me some victuals pray.  Bo. 
No mind but of thy belly.  Ie. 
Sirrah, sirrah, you are a Scot, and I a true English Justice.  Bo. 
Not a word of Latin, neither Justice, nor clerk.  Ie. 
Peace Bolt in the king's name, I charge thee, if you will eat bread earn bread, take up this luggage, sirrah, follow me home to my house, thou shalt have good bread, good drink, and good fire, up I command thee.  Wal. 
I am necessity's slave, and now must bear.  Bo. 
Must! nay, shall: are not the English your good Lords and Masters?  Wal. 
Well they are.  Bo. 
Do you grumble sir, on sir Jeffrey.  Ie. 
Have an eye to him Bolt, lest he give us the slip,  
And were you in this terrible storm at Sea say you?  Wal. 
Over head and ears, sir.  Bo. 
If th'execution had been upon the land Sir jeffrey, as 'twas upon the Sea, your worship had been in a worse pickle than he.  Ie. 
Why Knave? why?  Bo. 
Because he that has a bad name is half-hanged,  
And your worship knows, ye have but an ill name.  Ie. 
Thou Varlet is not wise good?  Bo. 
Yes, come along porter, wise is good.  Ie. 
And is not acre good?  Bo. 
Yes passing good.  Ie. 
Why should Wiseacre being put together be nought then?  Bo. 
Is not Plumb-porridge good, Sir jeffrey?  Ie. 
Yes.  Wa. 
Would I had this trunk full of 'em.  Bo. 
Peace Greedy-gut, plumporridge is good, and Bag-pudding is good, but put them together, and they are filthy meat.  Ie. 
Well, that's true.  Wal. 
Right sir. Sets down the Trunk.  Ie. 
How now?  Wal. 
Hunger is good, and two Woodcocks are good, But the feathers of those two Woodcocks must be plucked first.  Ie. 
Hold I charge thee.  Wal. 
youare a scurvy justice, yare man's an Ass, and you another with a velvet foot-cloth on your back, I ken ye vary we'll, and I'll knock ye vary we'll, if any thing be worth victuals, it goes down here.  Bo. 
The Devil choke you, if you be a man of your word.  Wal. 
Wiseacres, if you would fain know who has got this trash from ye, 'tis I, Wallace the Scot.  Both: 
Wallace.  Bo. 
Fly sir jeffrey,  
He calls us Woodcocks, let's fly and raise the Country.  Wal. 
D'ye ye grumble? raise the Devil and spare not.  Exeunt. 
Wert thou a chest of gold, I'd give thee all for victuals,  
Hunger, they say, will break stone walls,  
Your chops are not so hard,  
Ye shall burst tho with iron ribs ye were barred,  
— victuals— wine too,— few justices do feed the hungry thus, o these Wiseacres are the bravest fellows, specially English Wiseacres.  Enter Selby miserably poor. Sel. 
I'll now be my own carver, misery and age  
Want and despair have brought me to death's door,  
And shall I not enter? yes I will, this key  
Shall do't, is death so surly, may a poor man  
Speak sooner with a King then speak with him  
When he has most need of him, ugly lean slave,  
So I may see him, no matter for a grave.  Wall. 
How now, what dost look for?  Sel. 
For that which a quarter of the world  
Wants, a tree to be hanged upon.  Wall. 
Art weary of thy life?  Selby. 
Yes all men are of their old wives, my life has gone up and down with me this threescore and odd years, 'tis time to be weary on't I think now.  Wal. 
And when thou'st hanged thyself, whither dost think to go then?  Sel. 
To the Linen-draper.  Wa. 
What Linen-draper?  Sel. 
The richest in the world, my old Grandmother the Earth, how many pair of sheets has she had, think ye, since Adam and Eve lay together, It's the best Inn to lie at, a man shall be sure of good linen.  Wal. 
Who dwells hereabouts?  Sel. 
One upon whom all the poor in the Country cries out.  Wa. 
whose's that?  Sel. 
Scarcity, dearth, penury, famine, hunger, I have not known that man lives by food these four days, and therefore I'll descend to th' Antipodes, because I'll kick at this world.  Wall. 
Stay, famine shall not kill thee, sit and eat  
Thy belly full, thy cares in good wine drown,  
By my own fall I pity others down,  
Is't not good cheer?  Sel. 
Brave, I thank you for it, how many beggars does a rich man eat at his table at one meal, when those few crumbs are able to save a man's life, how came you sir into this fearful nest of Screech-owls and Ravens?  Wa. 
Cast up by the Sea, I was shipwrecked and lost all my company.  Sel. 
Would I had been one of 'em, I have lost more than you have done, I ha' lost all that I had but my sins, and they hang so heavy on my eyelids, I can scarce look so high as the brims of my hat to heaven, I have such a mind downwards, I have almost forgot who dwells over my head.  Wa. 
Look up, be not afraid, there reigns no tyrant,  
Would thou hadst been with me at sea.  Sel. 
So would I.  Wa. 
Hadst thou an Atheist been, and God not known,  
thou'dst found him in the deep, there he's best shown,  
He that at Sea is shipwrecked, and denies  
A Deity (being there saved) damned lives and dies,  
Man nowhere in the twinkling of an 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?  Sel. 
I was banished from England (but that grieves me not)  
But I killed an old man, he was called Wallace.  Wa. 
Ha?  Sel. 
Wallace, and methinks he's still at mine elbow.  Wa. 
Elbow? idle: Selby my father's murderer?  
Think not upon it, sit eat heartily  
Thy last, sit down, I say, never to rise,  
Drink wine, drink deep, let thy soul reel to hell.  Sel. 
I am almost dead with cold.  Wa. 
I'll fetch dry sticks,  
And with two flints kindle fire, beat out his brains:  
O that physic had the power to make thee young,  
I'd fetch thee drugs from th'utmost of the world,  
And then would arm thee, or, into thy veins  
Half my own blood I'd power, to lend thee strength,  
That I might kill thee nobly.  Sel. 
Be quiet, I'll pay thee.  Wa. 
How now?  Sel. 
A slumber took me, and methought old Wallace  
Clapped me upon the shoulder with one hand,  
And with the other pointed to his wounds,  
At which I started, spoke, but know not what,  
I'm cooled at heart.  Wa. 
I'll seek for fire.  Sel. 
I thank ye, if what I utter ye tell to any, I am a dead man,  
You have me at your mercy, and may betray me.  Wa. 
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 God's sake,  
In part 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.  Exit. Enter Haslerig, poor as th'other with Apples. Has. 
Selby, Selby,  
How like a Churl thou feedest alone,  
And greedy art to fatten misery— Selby?  Sel. 
Here.  Has. 
Look I ha' found a jenniting tree.  Sel. 
Where stands it?  Has. 
I'll not tell thee; see brave food.  Sel. 
let's taste it.  Has. 
Not a paring, what haste there?  Sel. 
The dole of plenty.  Has. 
Good old Rogue I thank thee,  
I have a stomach like a Lawyer,  
let's eat fruit when we have filled our bellies.  Sel. 
Not a bit.  Has. 
Ha?  Sel. 
Not a paring of cheese.  Has. 
I must.  Sel. 
Thou shalt not, I pay thee in thy own coin.  Has. 
Thy doting age is almost at her journey's end,  
My youth having far to go needs more provision,  
And I'll have this—  Sel. 
Hands off Kills him.  Has. 
You Dog, you old Devil.  Sel. 
I thank thee, thou hast cut the thread in two,  
Of all my woes, heaven pardon us both, adieu.  Has. 
Selby, no water from the hallowed Fount,  
Touched thee, thou art so fatal, Selby, dead!  
God's building which has stood this threescore years,  
This has defaced, would it were up again  
With ruin of mine own, I never knew  
Partners but one still th'other overthrew,  
Thou and I did set up with one stock of care  
I have undone thee, and now all's my share,  
'Tis not so sinful nor so base a stroke  
To spoil a Willow as an old reverend Oak,  
From me thouart gone, but I'll from hence ne'er fly,  
But sit by thee, and sigh, and weep, and die.  Enter Sir Jeffrey, Bolt, Soldiers. Bo. 
Stand, that's he who turns his tail to us, which is as much as to say, A fart for your Worship.  Om. 
Down with him.  Sir Jef. 
Peace, it's a wild Bull we come to set upon, and therefore let those Dogs that can fasten bite soundly.  Bo. 
My hearts, we come not to bait an Ass in a bear's skin, but a Lion in his own skin, he's a traitor.  Om. 
How know we that?  Bo. 
Thus, he hides his face, and we are not to back a traitor, Sir Jeffrey, you'll get between me and the Gallows, if I strike him down.  Jeff. 
I'll enter into a Recognizance to hang before thou shalt hang.  Bo. 
If you see my heart begin to faint, knock you me down to put life into me.  Ief. 
Fear nothing. Bolt strikes him down.  Has. 
Be damned both gods and men the act detest,  
Oh heaven; wipe this sin out for all the rest.  Bo. 
Your sins are wiped out sir, your Scottish score is paid sir.  Ief. 
Is he down?  Bo. 
He sprawls, stay there's one asleep by him,  
Shall I kill the louse in his head too?  Ief. 
No, wake not a sleeping Mastive, the Kings in the field, let's post to him, Bolt, thou shalt be a Knight as deep as myself, for this manly deed, as ye go through the Country, cry aloud, the traitor's dead.  Bo. 
Cry it out at the Cross, and at the old Palace,  
That Bolt was the man that brained lusty Wallace.  Om. 
The traitor's dead, the traitor's dead, &c.  Enter Wallace, with dry sticks and straw, beating two flints. Wal. 
Thou shalt have fire anon old man, ba', murdered?  
What shouldst thou be? the face of Haslerig,  
'Tis he, just heavens ye have bestowed my office  
Upon some other, I thank ye 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 Philomell,  
Instead of flowers and strewing herbs take these,  
And what my charity now fails to do,  
Poor Robin-redbreast shall, my last adieu,  
I have other streams to swim through, or calm  
Venture, 'tis brave when danger's crowned with palm.  Exit. Enter with Drum and Colours, the General of Scotland, with Grimsby, Mentith, Coming, and Soldiers with blue Caps. Gen. 
Upon this field-bed will we lodge this night,  
The earth's a soldier's pillow, here pitch our tents.  Men. Om. 
Up with our tents.  Gen. 
To council, beat a Drum.  Gri. 
Beat it for action then, and not for words,  
Upon our Spear points our best counsel fits,  
Follow that (noble General) up with no tents  
If you dare hold me worthy to advise,  
But with an easy march move gently on.  Gen. 
You speak against the Scholership of war.  Gri. 
Now their Beef-pots, and their Cans,  
Are tossed in stead of Pikes, their Arms are thrown  
About their Wenches middles, there's their close fight,  
Let us not lose the forelock in our hands,  
Of us they dream not, yet we are as freeborn  
As th' English King himself, be not their slaves,  
Free Scotland, or in England dig our graves.  Within. 
A Wallace, A Wallace, A Wallace!  Enter Rugerosse a Scottish Herald. Gen. 
Rugerosse, what cry is this?  Ruge. 
Of the whole Army,  
Grown wild 'twixt joy and admiration,  
At the sight of Wallace.  Om. 
Ha.  Ru. 
That dreadless Soldier,  
For whom all Scotland shed a sea of tears  
As deep as that in which men thought him dead,  
Sets with his presence all their hearts on fire,  
That have but sight of him.  Within. 
A Wallace, A Wallace.  Gri. 
Entreat him hither.   

Act. IIII.  Enter Wallace with Drum, Colours and Soldiers, they all embrace him. Com. 
D''ee hear th' English march? they are at hand.  Gen. 
Now Grimsby, they for Pikes are tossing Cans.  Gri. 
I am glad our thunder wakes 'em.  Men. 
Shall we on?  Gen. 
Whether is't best to stop 'em in their march,  
Or here to make a stand and front 'em.  Om. 
Stand.  Gen. 
Or else retire back to the spacious Plain  
For battle far more advantageous.  Wal. 
And so retiring be held runaways.  
Here stands my body, and ere this English Wolves  
Stretch their jaws ne'er 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.  Gen. 
Then let us die or live here.  Om. 
Arm, arm.  Wal. 
Fall back? not I, death of myself is partly,  
I'll never fly myself, here's no false heart:  
let's 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?  Gen. 
In the battle, valiant Grimsby  
Is General of our Horse, the infantry  
By coming is commanded, Mentith and you  
Shall come up in the Rear.  Wal. 
The Rear.  Gen. 
Yes.  Wal. 
No, sir.  
Let Mentith, Wallace shall not.  Gen. 
He may choose.  Wal. 
Were I to hunt within a Wilderness  
A herd 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 ha' not in the Academe of War  
So oft read Lectures, chief now to come lag,  
I'll ha' the leading of the Van or none.  Gen. 
Then none, you wrong us all,  
Men now are placed, and must not be dishonoured.  Wal. 
So, dishonoured.  Gen. 
Charge in the Rear for God's sake, now to stand  
On terms of worth hazards the fate of all.  Wal. 
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 myself.  Gen. 
Your pleasure, on,  
Each Leader spend his best direction. Exeunt.  Enter King, Percy, and Bruce, Hertford, Sir jeffrey, and Bolt, with Drums and Colours. King. 
Which is the fellow?  Bo. 
I am the party sir.  Per. 
Stand forth before the King,  Jef. 
Nay, he's no sheep-biter.  King. 
Didst thou kill Wallace?  Bo. 
Yes marry did I sir, if I should be hanged here before ye, I would not deny it.  King. 
How didst thou kill him? hand to hand?  Bo. 
Hand to hand, as Dog-killers kill dogs, so I beat out his brains I'm sure.  K. 
methinks, thou shouldst not look him in the face.  Bo. 
No more I did, I came behind his back & felled him.  King. 
Art thou a Gentleman?  Bolt. 
I am no gentleman borne, my Father was a poor Fletcher in Grubstreet, but I am a gentleman by my place.  Kin. 
What place?  Bo. 
A Justice's clerk, sir Jeffery Wiseacres.  Je. 
My man, if it please your Majesty, an honest true Knave.  Kin. 
Give to sir Wiseacres clerk an hundred pounds.  Jef. 
I thank your grace.  Bolt. 
God confound all your foes at the same rate.  K. 
But if this Wallace, sirrah, be alive now,  
You and your hundred pounds shall both be hanged.  Bolt. 
Nay I will be hanged ere I part from my money,  
Who pays, who pays?  Enter Clifford. Clif. 
Charge, charge.  K. 
The news brave Clifford.  Cli. 
The daring Scot fuller of insolence than strength Stand forth to bid us battle.  K. 
Throw defiance back down their throats, and of our Heralds  
Northumberland the honour shall be thine, tell'em  
We come to scourge their pride with whips of steel,  
Their City hath from justice snatched her sword  
To strike their Sovereign, who has turned the point  
Upon their own breasts, tell 'em this.  Per. 
I shall. Exit.  Cliff. 
Where's noble Bruce?  Bru. 
Here.  Cliff. 
I have a message, but 'tis more honourable, sent to you too,  
The Herald says that Wallace dares ye, his  
Spite is all at you, and if your spirit be great  
As his, you find him in the rear.  K. 
Hang up that wiseacres, and the fool his man.  Bolt. 
My master, not me sir, I have a Recognizance of him  
To stand betwixt me and the gallows.  K. 
A king's word must be kept, hang 'em both.  Bolt. 
One word more good Sir, before I go to this gear,  
If a king's word must be kept, why was it not kept, when he gave me the 100. li. wipe out one, I'll wipe out the other.  Kin. 
That jest hath saved your lives, let me see you fight today.  Jeff. 
Bravely like Cocks.  Bolt. 
Now Wallace look to your coxcomb.  Omn. 
Move on.  Enter to them the Scottish Army, and are beaten off. King. 
We have fleshed them soundly.  Cliff. 
I would not wish to meet with braver spirits.  K. 
Stay, Bruce, what's yonder on the hill?  Bru. 
They are Colours.  Kin. 
Why do they mangle thus their Armies limbs?  
What's that so far off?  Br. 
Sure 'tis the Rear, where burns the black brand,  
Kindles all this fire, I mean the Traitor Wallace?  King. 
What turned Coward?  
A dog of so good mouth, and stand at bay?  
If in this heat of fight we break their ranks,  
Press through, and charge that devil, Bruce thyself.  Bru. 
To hell if I can chase him.  Kin. 
Charge up strong, hark, brave,  
Let now our hands be warriors, not our tongues.  Exeunt. Enter the Scottish Army, General Grimsby, Coming, Mentith. A cry within. 
They fly, they fly.  General. 
The English shrink, knit all our nerves  
And fasten Fortunes offer.  Gri. 
Keep steady footing, the day is lost if you stir,  
Stir not, but stand the tempest.  Coming. 
I cry on.  Gen. 
And I.  Grim. 
So do not I, this starting back is but an English earthquake, which to dust, shakes rotten towers, but builds the sound more strong.  Gen. 
let's on, and dare death in the thickest throng.  Enter the English Army, and encompass them. Grim. 
Did I not give you warning of this whirlpool  
For going too far?  Ment. 
We are all dead men, yet fight  
So long as legs and Arms last.  King. 
In how quick time  
Have we about you built a wall of brass?  
Had he whom here you call your General  
A Soldier been remarkable of great breeding,  
And now to be caught with lime-twigs?  General. 
Keep our ground.  Grim. 
If we must fall, fall bravely.  Ment. 
Wound for wound.  Alarum. 
Exeunt King and Bruce pursuing the Scots.  Clifford, Percy, Grimsby, and General stay. Cliff. 
Take breath, I would not have the world robbed of two such spirits, post to the King, and tell him that the noblest Hearts of the whole herd are hunted to the toil,  
Ask whether they shall fall, or live for gain.  Messenger. 
I shall.  Exit. 
Charge.  Enter Mentith at another door. Ment. 
For honour's sake come down, and save thy Country.  Wal. 
Whose is the day?  Ment. 
'tis Edward's, come rescue  
Our General, and the noble Grimsby.  Wal. 
Who?  Ment. 
Our General and stout Grimsby are enclosed  
With quicksets made of steel, come fetch them off,  
Or all is lost.  Wal. 
Is the day lost?  Ment. 
Lost, lost.  Wal. 
Unless the day be quite lost, I'll not stir.  Ment. 
'tis quite lost.  Wal. 
Why then descend amain, art sure 'tis lost?  Ment. 
Yes.  Wal. 
Then we'll win it again.  Enter Messenger. Clif. 
How now?  Mes. 
The King proclaims that man a traitor  
That saves when he may kill.  Cliff. 
Charge them black day,  
The Lion hunts a Lion for his prey.  
A fight.  Enter Wallace and Soldiers, beat off the English, the General, and Grimsby slain. General. 
Too late.  Wall. 
Why then farewell,  
I'll make what haste I can to follow thee,  
Bruce, Bruce, I am here, 'tis Wallace calls thee,  
Dares thee.  Bru. 
Though I ne'er stooped unto a traitor's lure,  
I scorn thine, why dost thou single me,  
Yet turnst thy weapon downward to the earth?  Wal. 
let's breathe and talk.  Bru. 
I'll parley with no traitor but with blows.  Wal. 
Ye shall have blows your guts full,  
I am no traitor.  Bru. 
Why 'gainst thy Sovereign lifts thou then thy sword?  Wal. 
You see I lift it not.  Bru. 
Tell Edward so thy King.  Wal. 
Longshancks was never Sovereign of mine,  
Nor shall whilst Bruce lives, Bruce is my Sovereign,  
Thou art but bastard English, Scotch true borne,  
thouart made a mastive 'mongst 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.  Bru. 
This I'll try.  Wal. 
Dar'st thou alone meet me in Glasco-moore,  
And there I'll tell thee more?  Bru. 
Thou hast no treason towards me?  Wa. 
Here's my hand,  
I am clear as innocence, had I meant treason  
Here could I work it on thee, I have none.  Bru. 
In Glasco-moore I'll meet thee, fare thee well.  Wa. 
The time.  Bru. 
Some two hours hence.  Wa. 
There I will untie  
A knot, at which hangs death or Sovereignty.  Exeunt. Enter the English Army. Kin. 
We have sweat hard today.  Cli. 
'twas a brave hunting. Bolt offers to lay his Coat under the king.  Kin. 
Sit, some wine  
Away in the field all fellows, whose is this?  Bolt. 
It was my Coat at Arms, but now 'tis yours at legs.  King. 
Away, why givest thou me a cushion?  Bolt. 
Because of the two, I take you to be the better man.  King. 
A soldier's coat shall never be so base  
To lie beneath my heel, thouart in this place  
My fellow, and companion, a health to all in England.  Omn. 
Let it come.  Cliff. 
Is not this he that killed Wallace?  Bolt. 
No sir, I am only he that said so,  
As you sit, so did I lie.  King. 
Sirrah, where's your master?  Bol. 
My master is shot.  King. 
How shot, where?  Bol. 
I'th' back.  Clif. 
Oh he ran away.  Bol. 
No, my Lord, but his harness Cap was blown off, and he running after it to catch it, was shot between neck and shoulders, and when he stood upright he had two heads.  King. 
Two heads how?  Bolt. 
Yes truly, his own head and the arrow head, it was twenty to one that I had not been shot before him.  King. 
Why prithee?  Bolt. 
Because my knight's name being Wiseacres, and mine Bolt, and you know a fool's bolt is soon shot.  Clif. 
He has pinned the fool upon his master's shoulder very handsomely.  King. 
Sirrah, go seek your master, and bid him take order for burying of the dead.  Bolt. 
I shall Sir, and whilst he takes order for the burials of the dead, I'll take order for the stomachs of the living.  King. 
How fought today our English?  Per. 
Bravely.  King. 
How the Scots?  Cliff. 
The pangs of war are like to childbed throws  
Bitter in suffering, but the storm being passed,  
The talk, as of scaped shipwreck sweet, doth taste,  
The death of the Scotch General went to my heart,  
He had in him of man as much as any,  
And for aught I think, his blood was poorly sold  
By his own Countrymen, rather than sought by us.  
Had not the Rear where Wallace did command,  
Stood and given aim, it had been a day  
Bloody and dismal, and whose hard to say,  
Sir, you shall give me leave to drink a health  
To all the valiant Scots.  King. 
Clifford, I'll pledge thee, give me my bowl.  Clif. 
Sir, I remembered Wallace in my draught.  King. 
I did not, so this cup were Wallace Skull,  
I'd drink it full with blood, for it would save  
The lives of thousands.  Clif 
I for your Kingdoms would not pledge it so.  Per. 
I would, no matter how a traitor falls.  King. 
Percy, ten thousand Crowns should buy  
That traitor's head, if I could have't for money.  Clif. 
I would give  
Twice twenty thousand Crowns to have his head  
On my sword's point cut from him with this arm,  
But how i'th' field, nobly, hand to hand, not this straw  
To a hangman that should bring it me.  King. 
Let that pass,  
where's Bruce, our noble Earl of Carrick?  Per. 
I saw him not today,  Clif. 
I did, and saw his sword  
Like to a reaper's scythe, mow down the Scots.  Enter Bruce. 
Here he comes.  King. 
Brave Armoury, a rampant Lion within a field all Gules,  
Where hast been Bruce?  Bruce. 
Following the execution which we held  
Three English miles in length.  King. 
Give him some wine, art not thirsty?  Bruce. 
Yes for Scottish blood, I never shall have  
Enough on't, the king's health.  Omnes. 
Let come.  Per. 
How greedily you Scot drinks his own blood!  Omnes. 
Ha, ha, ha.  K. 
If he should taste your bitterness, 'twere not well.  Bruce. 
What's that ye all laughed at?  Clif. 
Nothing but a jest.  Bruce. 
Nay, good Sir tell me.  King. 
An idle jest, more wine for Bruce.  Bruce. 
No more, I have drunk too much,  
Wallace and I did parley.  Per. 
How in words?  Bruce. 
No Percy, I'm no prater, 'twas with swords,  
Your laughing jest was not at me?  Omnes. 
Sir, no.  King. 
Bruce would fain quarrel,  Bruce. 
I ha' done sir.  King. 
Peace, what Trumpet's that?  Clif. 
From the enemy sure.  King. 
Go learn.  Enter Ruge-crosse a Scottish Herald. Ruge. 
I come from Wallace.  King. 
So Sir, what of him?  Ruge. 
Thus he speaks.  
He bids me dare you to a fresh battle, by to morrow's sun,  
Army to Army, troup to troup, he challenges,  
Or to save blood, fifty to fifty, shall the strife decide,  
Or one to one.  King. 
A Herald to the traitor.  
Go and thus speak, we bring whips of steel,  
To scourge Rebellion, not to stand the braves  
Of a base daring vassal, bid him ere that Sun  
Which he calls up be risen, pay it and save  
His Country and himself from ruin, charge him on his head,  
To make his quick submission; if he slow the minutes,  
we'll proclaim in thunder his and his country's ruin,  
Go be gone, Arm.  Omnes. 
Arm, Arm.  King. 
A Land that's sick at heart must take sharp pills,  
For dangerous physic best cures dangerous ills.  Exeunt.  

Actus V.  Enter Bruce and Clifford. Bruce. 
As you are a soldier, as y'are noble  
I charge you and conjure you to unclasp  
A book in which I am gravelled.  Cliff. 
Perhaps I cannot.  Bruce. 
Yes, if you dare you can.  Clif. 
Dare? Clifford dares  
Do any thing but wrong and what's not just.  Bruce. 
Then tell me sir, what was that bitter scorn,  
Which I like poison tasted in my wine?  Clif. 
I care not if I do, because I love virtue even in  
My enemy, the bowl of wine kissing your lip.  
Behold, quoth one how eagerly you Scot,  
Drinks his own blood.  Bruce. 
You Scot drinks his own blood, which Scot?  Clif. 
Best wake some Oracle.  Bruce. 
Who broke the jest upon me?  Clif. 
Pray pardon me. Exit Cli  Bruce. 
The Oracle I'll wake is here, oh Wallace,  
I ne'er had eyes till now, they were closed up  
By braving English, witchcraft drinks his own blood,  
England my stepdame take my bitter curse,  
Thy own nails tear thy own bowels, oh my parent  
Dear Scotland, I no more will be a goad,  
Pricking thy sides, but if ere I draw a sword,  
It shall be double-edged with blood and fire,  
To burn and drown this Kingdom and this King.  Enter a Gentleman. Gent. 
My General  
Charged me in privacy to give you these.  Bruce. 
Thanks noble Clifford, what did he bid thee say?  Gent. 
Nothing but so. Exit.  Bruce. 
A pair of Spurs, Bruce ne'er was runaway,  
Twelve silver pence, oh bitter scorn, with Judas,  
I have betrayed my Master, my dear Country,  
And here's the emblem of my treachery,  
To hasten to some tree, and desperate die,  
Twelve sterling silver pence, sterling, ha sterling,  
'Tis a limb of Scotland, spurs for flight,  
Clifford, I'll thither, comment I wrong or right.  Exit. Enter Grimsby, Mentith, Coming, English Herald, and Rouge-crosse. Ment. 
Stay noble Grimsby, ere he further pass  
One of us certify our General,  
Perhaps he'll not admit him to his presence.  Grim. 
'Tis like so, stay him here, that pains be mine.  Com. 
Let Ruge-crosse bring his pleasure.  Grim. 
Come agreed.  Exeunt Grimsby, and Ruge-crosse. Men. 
You bring from Longshanks some strange message now.  Com. 
At lest he sends his Gauntlet.  Men. 
Gauntlet, no the English  
Fight not two days together, but like swaggerers,  
A fray being made up with a wound or so,  
The man whose throat before should have been cut,  
Is a sworn brother, now we have malled your Nation,  
they'll fawn on us like Spaniels, will they not?  Com. 
And that's thy errand, is't not?  Ment. 
Commonly, when English see at cuffs they are too weak, they fall to fishing, and then bait the hook with mercy, and the king's pardon, at which who bites has his swallowing spoiled for ever, there's no Scot but scorns to hang his hope on your king's promises, be it ne'er so smoothly gilded.  Herald. 
He gilds none sir.  Ment. 
I warrant he would pawn half his Dominions to shake hands with Wallace, and be friends.  Com. 
Had he but him in's Court, he would outshine  
His capering gallants, be would dote on him,  
As Jupiter did on Ganymede, and make him  
His chief Minion.  Herald. 
He does already so really dote upon him, 'tis not yet the age of one hour since my Master swore to give ten thousand Crowns to Scot or English, that were so bold to bring him Wallace's head.  Enter Ruge-crosse. Ruge. 
The English Herald.  Exeunt Ruge and Herald. Ment. 
Ten thousand Crowns.  Com. 
Would make a fair show in our purses Jack.  Ment. 
I could pick out five thousand heads,  
That I durst boldly sell him at that rate.  Com. 
Ten thousand Crowns.  Ment. 
I and Court windfalls too,  
Some English Earldom or so, here is none but friends,  
Should you betray the conference, I care not,  
I would deny it, and I would o'ersway  
Your proofs tho ne'er so massy.  Com. 
It shall not need, believe me worthy Mentith.  
What here you look is safe.  Ment. 
Shall we earn this English gold, ten thousand crowns?  Com. 
My hand.  Ment. 
They are ours, he's dead.  Com. 
No more, he comes.  Enter Wallace, grimsby, Herald. Wal. 
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 sit like Lords there whilst they rail like slaves,  
Go with Scotch threats, pay back your English braves.  Grim. 
You'll make the English mad. Exit Herald.  Omn. 
A brave defiance.  Wal. 
Defiance,  
let's mad them more, they shall not sleep tonight,  
Good grimsby beat a drum, let bonfires shine  
Through all our army, as if our Tents were burnt,  
And we dislodged, but recollect our troops  
Into an ordered body, some thing we'll do  
To make our Chronicles swell with English rue.  Grim. 
A Drum, call a Drum. Exit grimsby.  Wa. 
Oh sir John Mentith I have cracked the Ice,  
To a design, which if it will succeed,  
England no more shall strike, nor Scotland bleed.  Ment. 
Com. let's be partakers, dear sir.  Wal. 
What will you say, if I win Bruce from the English?  Ment. 
The happiest day that ever shone on Scotland.  Com. 
And crown him King?  Wal. 
That's the upshot must crown all, I'm to meet him  
Before one hour grow old in Glasco-moore.  Ment. 
How meet him?  Wa. 
As I am, both come alone, no words to any.  Ment. 
Our lips are sealed.  Com. 
Will you ride, or go on foot?  Wal. 
No more, I'll ride.  Ment. 
we'll pass the wood on foot.  Wal. 
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.  Ment. 
What face? he'll kill the Herald sure.  Wal. 
Oh! some charm for me to be invisible there, and see him.  Ment. 
For my part, of ten thousand crowns by this hand,  
I do wish you there.  Com. 
For as many of mine, I swear.  Ment. 
Time may come,  
In his Exchequer we may share twice that sum.  Wall. 
Hence, hie you before, keep close in the wood,  
Break forth if you spy treason, if not, not.  Both. 
Good. Exeunt.  Enter the Friars Ghost. Wa. 
Ha, if what thou seem'st thou art, step forward, speak,  
I have faced more horrid terror.  Fryer. 
Whare dost gang?  Wall. 
What's that to thee?  Fryer. 
Thousese not lest and lang,  
Twa wolves will suck thy blood, by the third night,  
I charge thy soul meet mine, thy death is dight.  Wal. 
Thou art a lying spirit.  Fryer. 
Bruce been thy bane,  
Give on thou gang luke not turn back again,  
Wallace beweere, methinks it thee should irk,  
Mare need hast thou to serve God in the Kirk.  Wa. 
Stay, if thou hast a voice thouart blood and bone,  
As I am, let me feel thee, else I'll think thee  
A sorcerous imaginary sound:  
Stand me, thouart some English damned witch,  
That from a reverend friar has stolen his shape  
To abuse me— stay— art gone? no Hag I will not.  
It spoke sure, told me Bruce should Exit Ghost beckoning him to follow.  
be my bane,— cannot— shall not,  
heaven knows such things only.  Enter old Wallace his Ghost. 
That eye hath shot me throw, wounds me to death,  
I know that face too well, but 'tis so ghastly,  
I'll rather with my nails here dig my grave,  
Then once more behold thee. Exit Ghost.  
Part from me vexed spirit, my blood turns to water,  
I beseech thee affright me not— it's gone.  Enter Peggy's Ghost. Peg. 
alas Scotland to wham salt thou complain,  
alas, fra mourning wha sall thee refrain?  
I thee beseek and for him died on tree,  
Come not near Bruyce, yet Bruyce sall not hurt thee,  
alas, alas, no man can stand 'gainst fate.  
The damp dew fra the heaven does 'gin to favu,  
I to my rest mim gange ere the Cock crawe.  Wall. 
It was my wife, what horror meet I here?  
No Armour in the world can hold out fear.  Enter grimsby. Grim. 
We stay for your direction.  Wal. 
Whom did you meet?  Grim. 
nobody.  Wa. 
Saw ye nothing?  Grim. 
Not any thing.  Wa. 
'twas my brains weakness then,  
I have seen strange sights, that anon I'll tell;  
If grimsby we meet never more, farewell. Exit.  Grim. 
Ha, I am struck dumb, oh man's slippery fate!  
mischiefs that follow us at our backs we shun,  
And are struck down with those we dream not on.  Exit. Enter Mentith, and Comyne. Ment. 
I have beside with Wallace sheriff of life,  
Held private conference, who in Longshancks name,  
Who swears to me we shall have good preferment,  
Beside the promised gold. Enter Wallace.  Com. 
Peace, Wallace comes.  Ment. 
Is the Bruyce come?  Wal. 
It is not yet his hour.  Ment. 
Who came along with you?  Wa. 
My footboy only, who is tying up my horse.  Ment. 
Him must I kill.  
I'll look if Bruce be in sight yet— Exit.  Wal. 
Do.  Com. 
Y'are sad.  Wa. 
My mind is shaken but the storm is o'er,  A cry, help, murder within. 
What cry is that?  Ment. 
Be armed, Bruce with a force comes to betray thee,  
From some villain's hand thy footboy is murdered.  Wal. 
Murdered? Bruce shall repent this deed.  Both. 
So shalt thou, away with him.  Enter Soldiers, knock him down, hurry him away in a sound. Exeunt. Enter Bruce muffled with a Soldier. Bru. 
Help to disguise me Soldier, in exchange  
Take these for thine, and here's some gold to boot.  Soul. 
If I be not hanged, my Lord, in all my bravery,  
I care not.  Bru. 
Phew, I warrant thee,  
Seal up thy lips and eyes, thou neither seest  
Nor canst tell where I am.  Soul. 
Not I my Lord.  
Oh my poor wronged country, pardon me heaven,  
And with a feather plucked from mercy's wing,  
Brush off the purple spots, that else would grow,  
Like freckles on my soul.  Enter North and Clifford. Soul. 
My Lord, here comes company.  Bru. 
Here quick mine own again, and get thee gone.  Per. 
Sirrah Soldier, sawst thou the Earl of Huntington?  Soul. 
Huntington?  Cliff. 
The Lord Bruce, I mean.  Bru. 
Who calls for Bruce?  Per. 
Muffled up, and alone, I'll to the King. Exit.  Cliff. 
Do, sirrah be gone.  Bru. 
Whither's Percy gone? he asked for Bruce.  Cliff. 
There's great enquiry for you.  Bru. 
By whom?  Cliff. 
The King has a fresh command for Bruce.  Bru. 
For me? he may command his Subjects.  Cliff. 
True, and Huntington is one.  Bru. 
Is none.  Cliff. 
No Subject?  Bruce. 
None that dare oppose your King, Oh my impostumed spleen,  
Will fly into their faces, what command  
Has England now?  Clif. 
Fresh powers are to be levied,  
Which Bruce of Huntington must lead.  Bruce. 
'Gainst whom?  Clif. 
'gainst proud Wallace, 'gainst the Scots.  Bruce. 
I will not, I'm not his Butcher,  
'gainst the Scots I will not fight.  Clif. 
How, will not?  Bruce. 
No, will not Clifford.  Cliff. 
Peace.  Bruce. 
My Lord, I dare not,  
In this last battle I received some wounds  
That yet bleed inward, I will no more banquet strangers  
With my native blood.  Cliff. 
Bruce speaks not like a subject.  Bruce. 
English Edward commands not like a King,  
Thrice honoured Clifford, I'll trust you with my bosom.  Clif. 
No, you shall not.  
My virgin honour is so chaste, it shall not  
Keep company with a disquiet bosom,  
Nor talk with discontents.  Bru. 
It shall not, I will but,  
Spare me, the air hath ears no more,  
You sent to me, I will but tell bold Clifford  
Not a word,  
My thoughts owe as much honour as their Lord.  
Within traitor, traitor. Enter Mentith.  Enter King, North, Herefor, and followers. King. 
A mutiny, what noise is't?  Per. 
Mentith, a Knight of Scotland.  Cliff. 
Keep him off.  King. 
What com'st thou for?  Ment. 
Comyn my countryman and I have brought  
A jewel to your Highness, which if 'twere right  
As 'tis known counterfeit, 'twere worth a kingdom,  
Wearied with war, and pitying the deep wounds  
Which fainting Scotland bears upon her breast,  
And knowing that the only sword which gashes  
Her tender sides, is gripped in Wallace hands,  
I in my love to peace, and to the safety  
Of two great Nations, am the man that laid  
Snares to entrap this monster, that devours  
So many thousand lives, the rebel's ta'en.  King. 
Where is he?  Ment. 
I have brought him to your English Camp,  
Force would not do't, but policy, we struck the Stag  
To the ground, and thought him dead, but heaven put back  
The blow of purpose, he's now come to life,  
From an astonishment when we thought him dead,  
To th'end the world may see the public shame  
Of an Archtraitor.  King. 
Mentith hath won fame,  
And honour by this act, fetch in this devil. Exit Ment.  Clif. 
Thou wilt have England's thanks, but Scotland's curse,  
Thou never haste done better, never worse,  
Damned judas to thy Countryman and friend.  Enter Wallace, Mentith, Comyn. Wal. 
Where am I?  Bru. 
Here with Bruce.  Wal. 
Bruce my Sovereign?  
My blood is sold, this is not Glasco-moore,  
Some villain hath betrayed me.  Cli. 
Speak to your countrymen, Comyn and Mentith.  Wal. 
Comyn 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?  Ment. 
It can, it doth, and at far greater mischiefs.  Wal. 
Not of thy acting?  Ment. 
Yes of mine.  Wal. 
Not here.  Ment. 
Here or in Hell.  Wal. 
Why then go act them there,  
Boast of them there, in that black Kingdom tell  
That by a true subject a base Rebel fell.  Kills him with his fist. King. 
What's that?  Clif. 
Your Scotch jeweller is slain,  King. 
By whom?  Clif. 
By Wallace.  Wal. 
Hear me speak King Edward.  Clif. 
Good my Liege hear him,  King. 
Clif. I have vowed,  
Neither to hear nor see him, drag him hence,  
Mine eye shall nor be so compassionate  
To view him, lest I pity him: hang, draw, and quarter him.  Wal. 
First hear me speak,  King. 
Drag him hence, and let that heart, those limbs,  
Which were the motives to rebellious war  
Be torn asunder, cast upon that ground,  
Which he with unkind steel so oft did wound,  
Away with him.  Wal. 
Farewell, to all the World,  
I ha' 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, lose it not.  King. 
Stop his throat.  Wal. 
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.  Bruce. 
Let him have noble trial.  King. 
He shall have the trial of an Archtraitor,  
Percy and Clifford take hence Bruce.  Bruce. 
Me hence?  King. 
You hence sir, from this hour I swear,  
Never to see thee Earl of Huntingdon,  
Hark Clifford, and Northumberland, away  Bruce. 
What is King Edward's meaning?  King. 
Your head shall feel our meaning, see it dispatched.  Bruce. 
You may. Exeunt Bruce, North and Clifford.  Com. 
My honoured Lord, although untimely death,  
Hath taken hence one engine of that work,  
That brought that Rebel Wallace to his end.  
Seeing our country's peace, and England's good,  
Is by his death made perfect and complete,  
I doubt not but the promised reward  
Of full ten thousand Crowns shall now remain,  
To the Survivor.  King. 
Coming, I perceive  
It was reward, not love that acted it,  
But you shall have your due, of that anon. A flourish.  Enter all in state. 
I told thee Bruce, that thou upon thy head,  
Shouldst feel our meaning, and that all the world,  
May know we value honour above conquest,  
Having a power able to turn all Scotland  
Into a Chaos, here 'twixt both our Armies,  
Give us thy oath of fealty, and wear  
Both Crown and title of thine Ancestors.  Bruce. 
England is full of honour, Bruce doth bend  
To thy command. They crown him.  King. 
Give him his oath of fealty,  
With him those Lords which are his Countrymen.  They swear, Bruce stabs Coming. Bruce. 
Stand back, a Serpent shall not with his breath  
Infect our Kingly ears, die slave, for he  
That would betray his friend shall ne'er serve me.  King. 
What hath Bruce done?  Bruce. 
A sacrifice of honour and revenge, no traitor's hand  
Shall help to lift a Crown up to my head,  
Thou didst betray, then die unpitied.  Clif. 
Brave Bruce, I'll love thee for this honoured act,  
Thou hast performed a noble piece of justice:  
Now shall the Ghost of Wallace sleep in peace,  
And perfect love shall 'twixt these Lands increase.  
He hath his full reward for his foul treason,  
Drag hence the slave, and make him food for Crows.  
The Lamp that gave Rebellion light, hath spent  
The oil that fed it, all our spears are turned  
To Palms and Olive branches, all our stars  
Are now made whole, peace is the balm of wars.  
FINIS.