Leave me to face the enemy alone! I care not for your silken company. I'll to my stalwart men-I'll name my name, Fear not-they'll follow! They'll follow me— Cas. [To Somerville.] He will do it, my lord. Promise him fair. Somer. My liege, I but presumed To advise delay. I speak for other peers- James. Do you speak for all? [Goes to Somerville. Lord Somerville, your hair is white with years; Somer. My liege, we are your loving subjects ever. [Exeunt lords, c., except Seton, who is following. James. To Seton.] Seton-good Seton !-stay with me. Seton. My liege, You honour me. James. Well, man, and wherefore not? James. Because my tongue Takes lessons from my heart. Ah, Seton-Seton! I thought I was but foremost in a band Of men, of brothers, of true-hearted Scots; Seton. My good liege, I think you're too much stirred by the loose talk James. No, no, Seton; there is more in this Seton. You wrong me-oh! my liege—if I might dare, I'd say my friend. James. Say it! I like the word; Call me your friend. Seton. My friend! my too kind friend! James. Well! Let me say in brief-for time is shortGo to the Boroughmuir, and watch the looks Of our blue Bonnets, when you give the word From blazoned shield and the tall waving plume-- James. Never king Was half so great, girt round with gewgaw earls, As circled by his people! Hurry, then, And speed you well! I trust you. What a word I trust you! Seton. Seton has no voice for thanks. [Exit, c. James. (R. c.) Will they be traitors still? and play the game Was played at Lauder Bridge? and leave their king I will not think so meanly of them yet: [He sinks in thought.-Buckie comes forward, L., and What now! who are you, friend? Ha! I remember; We've looked for you ere this. Up, up, man-up! Buc. Your majesty—but there be ears too near James. [To Mungo.] Retire! [Pointing to Mungo. Mun. [Aside.] The hunks! I wonder who he is. [Exit, R. James. Speak out, man! 'Twas a perilous dip in the Avon, That your stout arm and ready help made safe. Buc. Oh, sir, we're used to simple things like that! James. What! plucking drowning kings out of a river ? Well, it is lucky you had practice, friend, We might have fared the worse else. Buc. I was happy In being by to risk my limbs and life, Where Scotland has so long fixed all her love. James. Zounds! you speak well—a stout, bold, honest fellow, What want you with us? Buc. To make known to your grace A something that concerns the kingdom's weal. Buc. No, gracious king; I speak not of myself. 66 James. Your father, then ? gave him false weight of grain. "For Heaven's sake, man, make your complaint at once." "Buc." 'Tis treason against you. James. What say you?-treason? "Who are you, friend? 66 Buc. I saved your royal life "At hazard of my own. Oh, happier far, "If I may save your fame! "James. Sir, pardon me, "If I mistook you! Now I listen-speak! Buc. My liege, you've heard of rich Sir Adam Weir, Of Laichmont ? James. I've heard of him-go on; A rich old usurer. Buc. Ay, Sir; but his stores Are heaped for other uses than to lend To needy lords, or riotous young heirs. James. What is't you mean? You speak in parables. Buc. He pays a stipend-month by month he pays it— By order sent from England, "signed by Bowes,' To knights and nobles that take daily stand Around your throne. James. What nobles and what knights? But, no—I will not know their names. A stipend― Ha! a base bribe; a mean, false, cringing crew! "I'll brain you on the wall!" Who told you this? Where lives this Weir? How got you this advice? Buc. He lives at Laichmont, near to Calder, Sire. James. I'll see him. From his heart I'll tear the truth. Thanks, friend. 'Twas kindly meant: but, by my soul, I wish this thing had not been told to me, That I had thought them fickle, wilful, cold, Cowards-ay, cowards-anything but this. Thanks: I will see you soon. Take this, and this. [Gives his ring and purse. Say naught of what you've told me. I will ride To Lalchmont House this hour,-this very hour. Oh, if 'tis true: if they're the very slaves To live on foreign bribes-there shall be blood Shall make the High Street run as if with wine! Good day, my friend-be silent-and farewell. [Exit, c Buc. He rides alone-he must not ride alone; He's worth the whole of the nobles in a bunch. I'll be his guard, if no one else will. Mun. [Re-entering, R.] Well? What said the King? Buc. That if an impudent fellow Asked any questions, I must tell himMun.-What? I knew you'd tell me. Buc. That he was an ass, And should keep all his breath to cool his porridge. [Exit. Mun. Breath!-porridge!—in your teeth, you saucy knave! SCENE II-A Wood in Laichmont. Enter MADELEINE and MALCOLM, R. [Exit, c. Made. This way it flew. Come, Malcolm; see how high It soars, as if 'twere weary of the world, And wished to have a home far up in heaven! Malcolm. Ah, 'twere a happy bird to win such place, And never sink to rugged earth again! Made. Oh, for a hawk, full summed and high of soar, To follow it into the filmy clouds And bring it to our feet. But, well-a-day! We have no hawking now. Five years since, Malcolm, Mal. I wish I could as easily unstrike Made. And think no more ? Of the gay time we had when we were young "For these bright clouds come up like sinful visions, "Of solitary men, in lightless caves, "Retired to commune with their own sad hearts. Made. But, Malcolm, then your heart was never sad; You were the boldest horseman, sped your arrow Straighter than all, rode deftliest at the ring, And sang the gayest. Wherefore are you changed? |