Part 2 / Act 2 — SCENE III.

The Ramparts—The English Ships in the offing appear in flames.

LADY SETON.

Behold yon Fleming

Bears down amidst the smoke; and, like King David,

Grapples with a Goliath. Ha! he sinks!

The English giant drowns!

138SETON.

My eyes pursue

The well-known pennon, where my William’s prow

Bears on the gun-brig. Now, they board, they board!

I hear the clash of swords,—I must away

And open the battery’s mouth; for yon corvette

Lies underneath its jaws. My love, retire.

LADY SETON.

Nay, I will tarry till yon boat approaches

The shore with tidings, which I long to hear,

Yet dread their import; for methought I saw

A gallant youth slip down between the ships!

Oh, that the slumbering heavens would rise in wrath

And rouse its eastern gales, until their navy

Lay anchor’d on our rocks,—but not in safety.

SETON.

My love, it is not safe to linger here,

Retire till I return.

Enter Lieutenant.

Make haste and speak;

For if the face bears index of the mind

You bring no pleasant news.

LIEUTENANT.

I am, indeed, the messenger of wo;

In the sea-fight, when the two vessels closed

In mortal enmity, your gallant son

139The first to board, slipt down between the ships,

And sunk to rise no more, amidst the cheers

Of victory!

SETON.

O woman! earth is reeling,

Help, help, oh!

[While the Lady supports Sir Alexander sobbing; the Attendants enter.

LADY SETON.

O dear-bought victory, at such a price!

SETON (recovering.)

Bear me unto my couch. What! do I live?

Have they destroy’d my boy; methought even now

He call’d me murderer! Do I rave? Hell, hell!

Strike your red daggers hilt-deep in the tyrant,

Whose frozen heart ne’er melted with compassion!

I feel my sickness gone! away, away!

For I had need of rest. [Exit Seton, with Attendants.

LADY SETON.

Heaven grant I meet affliction as becomes

The daughter of a Cheyne, who bears the cross

Upon his shield—itself the best of shields!

Mary, support me now! [Exit.

140 SCENE IV.

A Room in the Governor’s House.

Lord Dunbar and Sir Alexander Seton in conversation.

Enter Officer.

DUNBAR.

What news from Bamburgh?

OFFICER.

My lord, Sir William Keith has just arrived,

And craves admittance.

DUNBAR.

Usher his excellency in.

Enter Keith.

SETON.

Heaven brightens now! thrice welcome, gallant knight,

I weary to give up my charge to one

More fitted for the office, in these times

When men need Roman hearts. What news from England?

KEITH.

My gallant friends,

The siege is raised at Bamburgh, and the Regent

141Comes with a powerful host in aid of Berwick,

That he may lure the royal beast aside,

And save us from his claws.

DUNBAR.

’Tis well!—[Aside.] I fear

That this manœuvre will exalt his rage

To some rash act.

SETON.

O God! I dread, I fear

My boy will suffer. Oh, ’tis very sad

To be a father in the day of sorrow,

And lose a favourite child. It makes a gap

In life, which fate or time can ne’er restore.

KEITH.

Be firm, while I, De Prendergest and Gray,

Try what yet may be done. I leave this place

In noble hands, the brave Dunbar and Ramsay.

[Exit Keith.

SETON.

My Lord Dunbar, I stand in need of counsel;

Edward, I dread, will execute his threat,

Unless we render this fair town and castle;

Alas! alas! my gentle boy has fallen

In the sea-fight, and now I dread his brother,

Before another sun shall shine on Berwick,

Will be hung up to appease the tyrant’s rage!

142DUNBAR.

’Twere barbarous!

But since too much approved in time of war

Men are not nice in means to serve their purpose,

I have a varlet here who owes me service,

And he will render it in gratitude,

Seeing my lady’s brother saved his life

At Roxburgh’s bridge, and gave himself in lieu

Rather against his will. This soldier, school’d

In deeds of stratagem by the Black Douglas,

Will beard the royal lion in his den,

And stay or mar his purpose.

SETON.

Be it so!—

Although in calmer hours my soul would shrink

From such an act; but being thus pursued

I can but strike, be the blow foul or fair;

And, surely, if in jeopardy the drowner

Destroys the arm that saves him, well may I

Strike down the monster who devours my flesh.

DUNBAR.

It does not merit thought; ho, Golding, here!

Enter Golding, in a Minstrel’s Habit.

GOLDING.

I wait your lordship.

143DUNBAR.

Thank thee, valiant man;

Speed, Golding, speed, and in thy minstrel habit

Sue for admittance to the royal tent.

Tell that there’s treason here; that ere the morrow

The castle is surrender’d; should ye fail

Signal of smoke shall show; so may ye save

The beardless hostages; so Berwick’s wives

Will bless and glad reward thee.

GOLDING.

With a kiss!

But, by the rood, should this same emprise fail—

Should I return without a draught of vengeance!

I forfeit life, and at St Mary’s Port

Dub me a traitor; your reward reserve,

As I shall prosper, so shall I deserve.

[Exit Golding.

DUNBAR.

There goes a resolute soldier—would to Heaven

My Agnes had a dozen such at present.

Dunbar too soon will feel the brunt of war! [Exeunt.

144 SCENE V.

The Interior of a Hovel.

Enter Ambrose and Maggy.

AMBROSE.

Well, Maggy, it’s just what I said: these great people care no more for their children than a he-cat. The governor will not open the gates to the English to save his own son, and the upshot will be, that all the young lads will be hanged without benefit of clergy. Ay, ay, I dread much all will soon be over; for no doubt the young king carries his father’s bones in his doublet, and wherever the old rascal’s bones are, the Scots will be defeated, if we may believe the soothsayers.

MAGGY.

Woes me! and there’s my lady ranging about the town like a mad-cap, encouraging the men to fight. It were more wise that she were down on her bare knees like me in the peat-cellar.

AMBROSE.

’Tis very savage-hearted, Maggy, but every one is 145no gifted with the treasure of humanity like you and me. They are just like the cannibal Romans, who were never so happy as when their children were massacred in battle.

MAGGY.

You are deep learned, Ambrose; but I often praise God that you are a town-fiddler and not a general!

AMBROSE.

But an officer of the town-guard, Maggy, were both safe and honourable, except on extraordinary occasions. Sieges do not happen every day.

MAGGY.

If you set your heart to that, Ambrose, I will not oppose you. I’ll neither advise you for or against it, since I know my advice would not be taken.

AMBROSE.

Then the salary is so handsome, Maggy; and you would go drest like a lady!

MAGGY.

I’m not envious, Ambrose; “for pride gangs before, and shame follows;” but we cannot help good luck if it comes to us whether we will or no.

AMBROSE.

I’m not ambitious, Maggy; every man is not born with a silver ladle in his mouth; but if a man is gifted with talents, it were sinful to abuse them and not 146use them. Ye know that old Rome was saved by the cackle of geese.

MAGGY.

And if Rome was saved by the cackle of geese, may not Berwick, haply, be saved by the town-fiddler?

AMBROSE.

Doubtless, Maggy; but I have a secret which I may not venture to tell you.

MAGGY.

And why would you keep a secret from me, Ambrose?

AMBROSE.

Because I promised on my honour not to divulge it.

MAGGY.

O, in that case, all’s right!—I’ll not press ye, Ambrose; but was I, who am your born wife, included in the bargain?

AMBROSE.

All, and every one, Maggy.

MAGGY.

Then seeing, that being part of thee, I am consequently nobody, do please tell me.

AMBROSE (whispering.)

I’ve been with a billet from the Mayor to the Governor. Lady Seton is afraid of the vengeance of the 147King of England, and wishes to make her escape in disguise.

MAGGY.

Oh, Ambrose! try and get me included in her train, were it only to carry her farthingales off the causeway; for I long to leave this place; and might be useful to my lady as a maid of honour.

AMBROSE.

It were desirable, Maggy. I shall proffer your services, which, if accepted, may hitch us both a yard higher up the ladder of preferment. Meanwhile clap your thumb on what I have told you. Keep your eyes open, but your mouth shut, as the cook said to the careless scullion.

MAGGY.

As I am a woman, so shall I keep your secret: but I must go, for the pork is frying, and I don’t wish the hungry neighbourhood to smell it. [Exit Maggy.

AMBROSE.

Well thought; for they would fight like racoons to devour it; and would make as much fuss about it as Symy and his lad Lowrie did for Cowkelbie’s sow. Oh! I long to see Ambrose Carmichael, town-fiddler, promoted to a captaincy in the town-guard, for important services rendered to his king and country.

[Exit Ambrose.

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