The Valiant Scot I. W. (?) This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A14599 of text S119334 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 24910). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. Martin Mueller Incompletely or incorrectly transcribed words were reviewed and in many cases fixed by Hannah Bredar This text has not been fully proofread EarlyPrint Project Evanston IL, Notre Dame IN, St.Louis, Washington MO 2017 Distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License A14599.xml The valiant Scot. By I.W. Gent. I. W., Gent. 40 600dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Michigan, Digital Library Production Service Ann Arbor, Michigan 2011 April (TCP phase 2) 99854541 STC (2nd ed.) 24910. Greg, II, 520. 19967 A14599 2240928967

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this text, in whole or in part. Please contact project staff at eebotcp-info@umich.edu for further information or permissions.

 The valiant Scot. By I.W. Gent. Actis and deidis of Schir William Wallace. I. W., Gent. Henry, fl. 1470-1492. [80] p. Printed by Thomas Harper for Iohn Waterson, and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard, at the signe of the Crown, London : 1637. 1637

A tragedy based upon: Henry the Minstrel. Actis and deidis of Schir William Wallace.

Partly in verse.

Signatures: A-K4.

Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.

 Wallace, William, -- Sir, -- d. 1305 -- Drama -- Early works to 1800. A14599 shc The Valiant Scot W., J. Hannah Bredar 1625 play tragedy shc no A14599 S119334 (STC 24910). 80 21879 0 0 0 0 0 0 0.00 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. Incorporated ~ 10,000 textual changes made to the SHC corpus by Hannah Bredar, Kate Needham, and Lydia Zoells between April and July 2015 during visits, separately or together, to the Bodleian, Folger and Houghton Libraries as well as the Rare Book Libraries at Northwestern University and the University of Chicago

THE VALIANT SCOT.

By J. W. Gent.

LONDON , Printed by Thomas Harper for Iohn Waterson , and are to be sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard , at the signe of the Crown . 1637 .

To the right Honorable James , Marquesse Hamilton , Earle 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 Kings Bed-chamber , and Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter , and one of his Majesties Privie Councell in both Kingdomes . Right Honorable ,

MEns actions have not their difference alwayes from the relation of their persons , for hee that presented his King with a dish of water , having nothing else , made the gift acceptable . I would use the application to my selfe , having been one amongst your meanest followers in your Lordships practicall life of a Souldier : what I haue I bestow upon you , and doe hope though it be clothed in the light dressing of a Play , it will not be denied your Lordships acceptance since it contains the Character which History hath left to Posterity of your own truly valiant Countriman : I most humbly beg pardon for my boldnesse , and that I may continue knowne to your Lordship , at the becomming distance of your Honours truly honourer , and humblest servant .

Your Lordships most humble servant and Souldier , William Bowyer .
Actus I. Enter Halserigge , Thorne , Selby , and Sir Ieoffrey Wiseacres . Tho. FEllow colleagues , since it hath pleas'd our King , Renowned Edward , of his speciall favour To spheare us in this height of eminence , And maks vs rulers over Scotland , Le ts shew our selves worthy the dignities Conferred upon us . Sel. That 's not by lenity , For howsoere the armed hand of war Ha's made them ours , they are a Nation Haughty and full of spleen , and must be manag'd With straighter reins and rougher bitts . Tho. Ahlas , I finde them easie , tractable and mild , Autority may with a slender twine Hold in the strongest head , then what needs tyranny , Vse rein or bitt , by this all doubts are cleer'd , 'T is alwayes better to be lov'd then fear'd ? And by your leave , Sir Thomas , We have good reason to defend our own . Sel. You are as cleer of danger , and as free from foes . Has. As he that holds a hungry wolfe by th' eares , The principles are true , trust not thy wife With secrets , nor thy vassall with thy life , Sound example proves it . Ieof.

And private policy confirms it , I could urge reason why , shew cause , wherefore , and speake to purpose wherby , but my betters are in place , I know them to be pregnant , and a ready wit's worth all .

Sel. For our owne safeties then , and Englands honour , Let not us lose what our King hardly wonne . Has. To that effect called we this solemne meeting , To which we have summon'd divers : chiefly Wallace , Late Sheriffe of Ayre , which office tho 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. Selbie 't is a seat , I , and my Grandsires Grandsire have enjoyed And held with worship , and till Edwards hand Remove me from 't , Wallace will still posses 't . Sel. Proud Wallace dares not . O. Wal. Selbie , both dares and doe , And must , and will , tho subject unto Edward , I 'me Selbies equall both in birth and place : Tho in mine Office , Edward joyn'd you with me , He never made you ruler over me . Has. You 'le finde he did , reade that Commission , And tell me then , if Selby or your self , Be Sheriffe of Ayre . O. Wal. To what my King commands I humbly bend , resigning on my knee Both Staffe and Office . Sel. Which thus Selby breaks Over thy head , and now proud Sir acknowledge Selby your Ruler , and with your place resigne 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 'r still mine own , Were purchas'd with the sweat of my deer Ancestors , And ere I lose a pole , a foot , I or the smallest turfe a silly Larke may build on , I le lose life . Sel. At your own choice , either your lands or life , Or both . O. Wal. Or neither , royall Edwards mercy Sits above Selbies malice . Sel. Surly Groom , Mercie '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 sonne , a boy of that proud temper , As should he heare thy insolent demand , Would pluck thee from thy seat , and lay thy head A satisfaction at his fathers feet , But heavens forbid it , Selby thus it stands , Thou hast my Office , and my sonne my Lands . Sel. He must shew how he holds 'em . O. Wal. So he can , And Selby will shew evidence sufficient , Mine , my deere Fathers , and my Grandsires sword . He weares good evidence about him Selby , And will upon the least occasion Both shew and prove it lawfull . Has. If the sword be your best plea , y 'ave but a naked title , And by our autority we here command You and your sonne at our next generall meeting , To bring in your Surrender , or undergo The penalty of traytors . Enter Sir John Graham . Gra. Oh you the patrons of poore injur'd subjects , Do Graham justice , Selbies riotous sonne Assisted by a crew of dissolutes ! Has stole my onely daughter , and intends A violent Rape , or which more cuts my soule A forced marriage . Sel. Inconsiderate foole , The boy affects her , and with my consent Intends a lawfull marriage , 't is a favour Her betters sue for . Gra. Oh let u'm hate , my bloud 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 soule , he shall . Gra. Shall ? Sel. I , Sir shall , It 's the highest favour conquest can afford , For a slave to joyn alliance with his Lord , And Wallace see present surrender made Or look for storms . Jeof.

So say I too , and 't is not the least part of policy , neither .

O. Wal. Will have my Lands . Exeunt . Gra. Inforce me give a dower . Misery decre'd above comparison . O. Wal. Complain unto the King . Gra. The King alas . I have heard a story how the subtle Fox Having stole a Lambe , the family of sheep Drew a petition , and with full consent Prefrr'd it to the Lion , he imploy'd 'Bout earnest and more serious businesse , Appoints the Beare Commissioner , to take up This bloudy difference ; the Beare impannels A partiall jury all of Wolves , they choose The Fox their Fore-man , they consult and finde The sheepish Nation guilty , and with generall breath , Cast , judged , condemned , and sentenc'd 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 mens graves , Nor heard , nor pitied , heaven ha's impos'd a curse , Which suffrance in time may cure , complaints make worse . O. Wal. Then as it is le ts bear 't , win heaven to friend He that begins knows when and how to end . Exeunt . Enter yong Selby , and other gallants guarding Peggie . Y. Sel. Maske her , come Peg hide your Scottish face . Peg.

Why shild I hayd my Scottis face , my Scottis face is as gude as yare English feace , 't is a true Scotties feace .

Y. Sel.

I know 't is sweet Peggy , and because 't is not a picture for every Painter to draw forth , let this curtaine be pind before it .

Peg.

Hange yare flee-flaps , na Scottis woeman is asheamed a that luke , that the master painter abuife guifes her , whare mun I gang and now , fay , fay , fay , what lossell am I that am hurrand thus till and fra with sweards and wapins , whay mun backerd men gang fencing and florishing about me , am I yare may-game ?

Y. Sel. No Peggy , th' art my prisoner , but here 's thy jaile . Peg.

Are yee my jalor ? what kin bin you to the hangman ? senu you ? whare 's hee ? wha is that foule loone amang you , that mun 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 sike luife , the awd fellon theef , luif and the true mans siller as you luifand me , I 'de rather be a Scutchmans whore , then an English-mans waife , and be dreave to th' Kirke with helters .

Y. Sel.

Tell mee what proud Scot loves thee , what Scot dare touch thee now th' art Selbies ?

Peg. Hang thee , hang thee foule meazel'd lowne , What Scuttishman darres guiff my luif understood My case , on Gads deare earth yow sud no farder gange As butchers kie toth the grund he sud yow bange . 2 Gall. All mildnesse is in vain , take some rough course . Y. Sel. Toth ' Church , away , I le marry her there by force . 1 Gall. Away with her . Enter Wallace , Comming , and Mentith , Peggy runs to Wallace . 2 Gall. Yonder s Wallace , and 's true . Y. Sel. The Devill and 's dambe bee 't , budge not . Peg.

O my luife these Sotherne Carles mickle wrang 'gainst mee warcke , and now wad force mee gang untill the Kirke , and marry Selby , Wallace my Io not I .

Y. Sel. Vnhand that beauteous prize , proud slave , 't is mine . Wall . Slave ! th' art 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 proud'st of your swarme dares answer me , step forth .

Wall . Your first man I Sir . Y. Sel. Harke Gentlemen , let not so sleight a showre , Which yet lies hid and wrapt in one poore cloud , Be by rough winds ( raiz'd up by you ) dispers'd Into a generall storme , 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 yon taverne . Omnes . Agreed . Wall . Look to my Peggie . Exeunt . Y. Sel.

Guard my love , hee and I will onely exchange cold words .

Wall . Now Sir , your cold words . Y. Sel. This Scotch Lasle 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 . Vmh , neither . Y. Sel. She gangs with me then . Wall . But the dew lekens not whither , If you can win her , weare her , she 's wholly mine . Y. Sel. She is ? Wall . She is , our Lasse are not English common , I 'me right Scotch bred , till death stick to a woman . Y. Sel. And to the death thou shalt , no more but this , Thou shalt beare 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 to morrow or anon If not as good now , 't is the English fashion To swagger it out , and then drink and then fight And kill in cold bloud having slept sound all night , And oftentimes all gash'd , the seconds fall , When home in whole skins come the principall . So about words , the Lawyer wrangling stands , And loses in mean time his clients lands . Y. Sel. Do'st teach me fencing too in thy own school ? I 'le beat thee or be beaten , one draws short breath . Wall . I feele no sicknesse . Y. Sel. Yet th' art neere thy death . Fight . Enter 2 Gallants , Coming , Mentith . Wallace loses his weapon . 1 Gal. At it so hotly . 2 Gal. Kill him , 't is faire . Y. Sel. Inglorious conquest , for King Edwards crown , I 'de trample on no enemy were hee down . There — if th' art well , part . Wal. I 'le die , or in thy heart bloud wash this infamy . Y. Sel. Mercy on my soule . Dies . Com. He 's slain . Men. Away . Wal. Shift for your selves , 't will 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 kisse his frosty mouth . O. Sel. What Scot is t ? Omn. Oh , 't is yong Selby ! O. Sel. Ha' my sonne , who slue him ? 1 Gal. That fatall hand of Wallace . O. Sel. Follow the villain . Peg. Ize jocund and wee l 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 bloud and treasure we have spent Like zealous prodigals in Palestine , Goes half so neer our heart , as that proud France , Knowing our merit should bar us of our due . Per. France dares not . K. Yet he does . Per. 'T was not demanded . Gri. How , not demanded ? thinks the bold Lord Percy , That Grimsby dares not ( lawfully employ'd ) demand . Per. But not command . Grim. Yes command , Percy . Per. Grimsby , thou canst do well in Garison . Weare shamoys for a grace , project for bloud , Make eight dayes 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 then dead that — Per. Stop thy throat or — Grim. What ? Per. I le cut it . Grim. Cut throat . Per. 'T is a trade , By which few prosper , and yet thou art made . Grim. A man as good as — Per. A hangman . Grim. A foule blot Lies in your throat . Per. Thy foul-mouth , wash it Scot . Grim. In Percies bloud I l'e wash 't . K. Grimsby you leane To hard upon our sufferance , and noble Percy . Our honor'd second in all inward combats , Thou hast too many worthy parts of man , To throw thy self on this unequall hazzard , Grimsby thou standst so much degreed below him , Both in descent and eminent qualitie , The many favours we have grac'd thee with , Blush to have been conferr'd upon a man No better temper'd . Bruce . May it please my Soveraigne Confirme his grant touching — K. The Crown of Scotland , Save other time , Grimsby th' ast raised A storm which showers of bloud can hardly lay . Grim. Dread Liege , If all the youthfull bloud that I have spent , And wealthy honors that my sword hath wonne Waving the Christian Standard in the face Of the proud Pagan , in the holy Land , Merit the name of hangman , Grimsby casts Them and himselfe at royall Edwards feet , And like an out worn souldier , humbly begs , No pension ( but look Percy ) nor yet office But leave to leave the Court , and rich in stars To lose more bloud , or win more worth in wars . K. We will not lose thee Grimsby , valiant Percy , If love in us , or loyaltie in you , Have any power . Per. My Soveraignes pleasure sits above my private passions . K. Then joyn hands , Our subjects both the native of two Lands . Per. Friends Grimsby . Grim. Friends in shew , But in my brest bloudy revenge lies ambush't . Bruce . Gracious Liege . K. Th' art no Musician , Bruce , thou keep'st false time , We strike a bloudy lachrymae to France , And thou keep'st time to a Scotch ligge to armes . Elenor. Edward will be more kind to Christians . K. Let Christians be more honest then to Edward , In expedition of this holy warre , When France in person was enjoyn'd to march , To work his safetie we engag'd our own , Casheer'd his fainting souldiers , and on promise , Of so much gold at our return , suppli'd The French designes our selfe , and is our love , And losse of bloud , halfe which at least had drop'd Out of French bosomes , quittant with owe none , Pillage and play the free-butter for more , The news . Enter Haslerig . Has. Dread Soveraigne , Scotland is infected With a most dangerous surfet , it breaks out In strong rebellion . Edw. This is your Kingdome Bruce . Bru. I have no hand in 't tho . K. Shouldst have no head , did we but think it , Whos 's the chief ? Has. One Wallace , a fellow meanly bred , But spirited above beleefe . K. Some needy borderer . How is our bosome parted , is their power Of any strength ? Bruce , leavy powers for France ; If we but thought thee touch'd in 't , warlike Percy , Beaumont and Sebastian fetch him in Or with a second and more fatall conquest Ruine that stubborne Nation . Ellin. Gracious Edward , Tho war ha's made them subjects , heaven defend Subjects should make 'em vassals . K. We conceit you , If any officer of ours transgresse Our will , or go beyond his bounds prefix't Wee 'l have his head , he our high worth depraves , That our free subjects seek to make his slaves . Has. We do not . K. See we finde it not . Ell. Let Ellianor win so much favour as to march along Tho conquer'd , 'las we are neighbours of one clime , And live like them subject to change and time . Grim. Royall Edward , Though Wallace and some spleenfull dissolutes Wrong'd 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 wheele we might with them change states , Be Scotlands subjects , let but Rebellion kneele , Wee 'l weare soft mercy , and cast off rough steele . Grim.

I 'le undertake it .

K. Let messengers be sent , To question the proud Rebell , and if Grimsby Faile in his plot , Northumberland and Clifford Shall second him in armes , so slight a fo Must not detain us from our French designes , Our Queen ha's all our brest , and tho we might Iustly perhaps confine your liberty , Bruce , we inlarge it , giving you command In our French wars , observe him neerly Lords , I have read this maxime in state policie . Be sure to weare thy danger in thy eye , France lights a Comet , Scotland a blazing Star , Both seeke for bloud , wee 'le quench um both with war . Exeunt . Enter yong Wallace , Coming , Mentith . Com. Prethee good Wallace . Y. Wal. Ill betides his soule , That speaks of goodnesse , thinks or meditates Of any goodnesse more then how to free Imprison'd Peg . Men. But heare me . Wal. Laverek Castle weares but a slender bolt of brick . Com. Turn'd mad ! Wal. And say the moat be fifty fathomes deep , Fiftie times fiftie , say it reach through to hell , Wallace will swim 't . Com. Swim 't , yes so wilt thrust an oxe into an Eg-shell , And rost it by Moon-shine , but why should Wallace ? Wal. Why should proud Selby , though his forward son Were justly slain , imprison Peg ? Poor Lambe she is no murtherer . Com. In my conscience she ne're drew weapon In anger in her life . Men. Not at sharp I think , but by your leave 't is thought , She ha's practis'd 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. Wher 's my sonne ? Wal. With Peggie , father , manacles of griefe , Hang heavy on my sences . O. Wal. Shake 'em off . Shew thy self worthy him that thou call'st father , Or Peggie dies . Wal. What thunderclap was that ? Able to waken death or shake the shrowd From off a dead mans shoulders , Peggie dies , Should thunder speak it , Wallace would sweare it lies , Who spake that , fatall Nuntio ? O. Wal. His breath . That gave thee being , Haslerig s return'd . Wal. Whence , from the Devill ? O. W. From England , and this instant But thou com'st in , and yeeld thy self , her life Dissolves to aire . 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 trustie sword Hew down the Castle-gates , dishinge the doores , File off her irons , and through a wall of steele Attempt her rescue . O. W. 'T is impossible . Wal. Impossible , what 's the news from Englands ? O. W. Grimsby the fire-brand of his Country Comes to insnare you , on the heele 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 policie must work with , streight give out That hearing of the English expedition , Our faction is dissolv'd . Gra. Whats 's this to Peggies 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 Peggies innocence , And for her freedom and your own make faith , To yeeld me prisoner , 't will be no doubt excepted , Your self once pardon'd , and your daughter free . Gra. What rests for Wallace ? Wal. Prosper'd destinie , If the great cause we undertake be good , 'T will thrive , if not , be 't washt in Wallace bloud . Exeunt . Enter Haslerig , Thorne , Selby , Sir Ieffrey . Has. Is it by generall Proclamation voic'd That but proud Wallace yeild , Peg Graham dies , Sir Ief. The Cryers are all hoarse with balling of it . Has. T' is time for providence to stirre the King , ( I know not upon what complaints ) pretends This rank Rebellion rather , took his root From wrongs in us , then treacheries in Wallace . And sends his forces rather to examine And question our demeanours , then their treasons . We must prevent it , how think you , Sir Jeffery ? Sir Jef. Troth even as you think , policie must prevent it . Enter Messenger . Mes. Sir John Graham craves conference with the Commissioners . Has. Admit him . Enter Sir Iohn Graham . A man , me thinks , of your experience , Respect and education should not linke Your self in such a chain of counterfeits . Io. Gra. Nor have I Lords , but for your best advantage , And Englands good , traitors and dottrels , 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 , joyn companies , and drive Them into a net suspectlesse . Has. So did not Graham . Io. Gra. Speak not before your knowledge , you detain My onely 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 produc'd . Enter Peggie . And th' execution for awhile deferr'd , Though in her cause Selby ha's lost a sonne And with him all content , so deer I tender The peace of Scotland and my Soveraignes good , As give the traitour to the hand of Law And with her life take thine . Ieff. Good policie . Peg. Aye trowe , ye mean not Wallas his devoire , And dowty valour merits mare repute nor Sike fawe language . Gra. A fowle traitour , I have converst with Wallace , thrown my selfe Into his bosome , 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 proclaim'd , But he come in , I told him on 't , he smiled . I urg'd thy love and constancy , still he smil'd , And to confirm 't he basely ha's cut off All his associates , and given up himselfe Wholly to me . Peg. Hawd therefor cherritie , and wad yee 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 Rebell . Wal. Traiterous man , Is this thy love ? these thy deep promises ? Art thou their Aspies ? See Selby here 's the hand Cleft thy sonnes heart . Sel. For which base villain I 'le see thee hang'd . Wal. Thou knowest not thy own eyes , May feed the Crows assoon as mine , Toads and Snakes May dig their lodgings in thy brest , And Devils make faggots of thy bones first , But my sentence . Sel. Here , Graham , for thy service , We enlarge thy beauteous daughter . Wall . A milde 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. Rac'd byn his name furth the Whayte buke of life that speaks it . Sir Jeff. Hence . Peg. Dear Wallace , thoe ane shrude Hawd not our bands , wees meet in yander cloud , Whare na fell Southern nowther can extrude , Nor bar na fra celestiall pulchritude , Aid gange thy gate , till heaven , and as we flay , Like turtle Dowes weese bill & find gude 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 free'd out of this jayle of flesh , Then hinder not my voyage . Jef. 'T is not policie , wee 'l rather set it forwards . Has. Raise a Gallowes fifty foot high , ye shall not go by water , wee 'l send you up a neerer way . Wall . All 's one , Axe , halter , famine , martyrdome , or fire , All are but severall passages to heaven , Let my soule go the furthest way about , Come tir'd 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 'T is the Queens pleasure , you send in this traitour Vnder my conduct to the English Campe : Rebellion of this nature must be search'd , With sharper torture . Wall . I outdare the worst , He is no man that is afraid of death , And Wallace his resolve shall out-live breath . Gri. 'T is but short-liv'd else , first see him bound and hud-winckt , Then leave him to my care . Sel. Bear with this Rebell , my love . Has. My service . Jef. And my policie to the good Queen and Ladies . Grim. Come Wallace , now your pride draws neer the fall . Wal. Why Grimsby , if I fall , 'T is 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 soule aspire The glorious clouds , so long I die secure . Death cannot threat more then I dare endure . Gri. No not a man more then my private followers , The Queen enjoyns it . Exeunt Wa. and Gri. Has. Farwell , valiant Grimsby , and farwell danger . Ief. Policie and all . Sel. The traitors fled , and Wallace thus supprest , My sons blouds paid , and his wrong'd ghost at rest . Has. And the whole land at quiet , wher 's Sir Iohn Graham ? Wee 'l joyn him partner in Commission , 'T will be a means to make our party strong , And keep down mutinies , search out old Wallace , And hang the Carle at his own door , Sir Ieffrey , Place tables in the streets , bonefires , and bels , Since without cause they murmur , let u'm know That with their knees wee 'l make their proud harts 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 Grimsbie , two or three followers , Wallace bound and hoodwinkt . Gr. WHat talk'st of Conscience ? th' art an apparant rebell . Wall . How can he be a rebell was nere subject ? What right has Edward to the Crowne of Scotland ( The sword except ) more than my selfe , or Grymsbie ? Gri. What greater right then conquest ? Wall . Then what cause , Iuster thou mine ? respected Country man , Thou hast beene nobly valued , and held ranke With best deservers , look upon the wounds And mortall stabs of that distressed breast That gave thee suck ; see thy poore brethren slaves , Thy sisters ravisht , and all out-rages That bloudy Conquest can give lycence to , See this , and then aske Conscience if the man That with his bloud seeks generall reformation Deserves the name of Traitour , Whither do'st leade me ? Gri. To Northumberland And Beaumont . Wa. Butchers do your worst , Torture , I spit defiance in thy face , And death , embrace thee with as kinde a narme As if thou wert . Enter old Wallace , Peggie , Graham , Frier , Coming , and Mentith . O. Wa. Thy Father . Peg. And thy waife . Wall . In heaven or in a slumber , who resolves me ? Speake , am I dead , or living ? or asleep ? Or all , or both , or neither ? tell me fate . Me thinks I see my Father , warlike Graham , The Fryer , what Peggie too ? I prethee joye Do not ore-flow my sences , deerest friends Pegg , Father , Coming , Mentith , Graham , see I am new moulded , and here stands the creature That by a warrant granted from the Queene Form'd me from out a second Chaos breath'd New life , new motions , new dimensions , To tell the story were to shame the world , And make all mankinde blush . Peg. May luive . Gra. Fri. Our prayers . Cow . And all our friendship like a coat of steele Stand betwixt him , and danger . Wa. All joyne hands , Thus like a mountaine Cedar Wallace stands Amongst a grove of friends , not to remove For Edwards thunder , nor the frowne of Jove , I 'le hew the yoke from off my countries necke , Or never house , this religious Fryer Is a full witnesse to the sacred bond Twixt heaven and me , which on my part I 'le keep , Or pay the forfeit with my bloud . Fri. Heaven shield Many a tall wood oake beene fell'd Ere Wallace stoope , heed Gentrid sawe Theke sword shall keep in mickle aw , Fell Sotherne folk , many a crie , Fray cradled barns , e're he shall flie , Nurses sighes , and mothers tears Shall swell the clouds , till thy awne bloud , Prove false thilk Crag sall nere lig dead . Wal. Shall Wallace live till his owne bloud prove false , Why , that can never be till palsey age Hath thrust his icy fingers through my veins , And frozen up the passages of bloud . Com. The town of Lavercke , peopled only with English pride And overjoyed with thy surprizall are made drunk with mirch , Bonefires , bels , banquets , and the devill and all Invite our swords to their sad funerall . Wal. Close with advantage , put your selves in Armes , And cease their forfeit lives , this holy Frien Shall first bestow a matrimoniall band Of our united love , and then my sword Like winged lightning shall prepare a way , To Lavercks doom . Fri. Nea marry , stay a wheane , Dip not thy winyard in the weambe Of Lavercks town , for giffe thou gange , Thouse weark thy lives friend mickle wrang , Thouse come back seafe , but barne I feare , I se never blinck upon thee meare , Kneel till thy Sier his benuson crave , Next duty bin till dig her grave , Kisse , kisse thy Peg , for well a neer , Thase amerous twins sall nere kisse mare , Till in deaths armes they kisse , thilke state Stands writ in heaven and seal'd by fate . Wal. Then fate dissembles with mee , this the second time She has by vision summon'd me to armes , Exeunt . Alarum . Enter Haslerig one way , Selby , and Sir Ieffrey with Frier , Old Wallace and Peggie . Has. Whom have you there ? Sel. Seeking the cave for shelter , See whom kind fare hath given us . Has. Trecherous Wallace , The doting wizzard , and dissembling woman Chief cause of this Rebellion , now revenge , Clothe thee in crimson , and prepare to feast , Wee 'l tune such dismall musick , 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 fatherlesse , And murder a madding widdower . O. Wal. Oh , spare mine age . Peg. Pitie my beauty . Fri. My religion . Sel. Like pity , as thy barbarous sonne bestow'd On my boyes life , i le print upon thy bosome . Has. Like pitie as thy husband pitilesse , Took on the widdows tears , and Orphans cryes That kist his , and hung about his knees At Lavercks massacre , I le shew on thee . Sel. Thus fell my sonne , And thus the father of his murtherer fals . Has. Thus wither'd the pride of Laverck , And thus fades the flower that caus'd their ruine . Jef. Thus religious cries Exit Haslerig . Were stopt with steele , and thus religion dies . O. Wal. Wallace , revenge me as thou art my sonne . Peg. Revenge thy wait , Fri. Revenge Religion . A Crie within , Wallace and Conquest . Enter Haslerigg . Has. Thunderbolts and fire rampier your throats , The slaves growne infinite , And moves in every place at once , Shift for your selves : Proud Wallace recking in the bloud of Lavercke , Like a fierce tiger nurst in humane spoyle , Pursues the slaughter , the barren hills lye strewed With mangled limbes , such as the gentle night Rescue from death , fall in the morning flight , Then flye or fall for company , Flie from a rebell , but fate keep true course , Wee le ebbe like flouds , to flow with stronger force . Exeunt . Enter Wallace all bloudy . Wal. Pursue the slaughter , whilst I , salvation shield me . Fryer Gertrid answer me , what barbarous hand Has cast my friend into this cold dead sweat , Resolve me gentle Father , fellon death , Tha 'st acted sacrilegious burglary , and told my father . O. W. Wallace . Wal. No excuse . Peg. Ay sea husband . Wall . Intreat not , ye are guilty both . And parties in the deerest robbery , Then though my wife and father ( mercy fate , ) Play not the tyrant with me , do not try My sences bore their weake abilitie , Cease to afflict me , or I shall turne Rebell , And breathe invectives gainst thy power . Peg. O my deare Wallas for the luive waife , For siuve of awe sawles , and thy daying waife , Lift to my latter accens , and attend Of all thy joyes the derne and dismawe end . Wall . Torture above indurance , King of dreames dissolve my vision . Peg. Wallace is awake . Wall . O if I be , let my soule never sleepe , In the blest bosome of my Ancestors , Till I have drawne a sea of purple teares From forth the bosomes of the murderers , Deere Peggie , father , Gertrid , which way , where How , when , what meanes , what cause shall I devise To finde it out , and venge your tragedies ? Peg. I 'le teach ye how , Selby and Haslerigg byn the fell blood-hounds Whae have hunted laife untill thicke toyles of death , Wa. Are they turn'd hangmen ? Peg. Religious cryes , beauteous entreats , and reverend well-awayes Could not winne 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 ruthlesse massacre . Wal. Yes Grimsby , Wallace can shewe a massacre will proove 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 spheares , Or strike the Sun dead in the browe of heaven , Looke , and like men short from the browe of thunder , Fall seneeles , death wounds not so deepe as wonder . Gra. Whose bloody act was this ? Wal. The bloody acts Contriv'd and plotted by experienc'd villaines . Gri. Who were the authors ? Wal. Iudge , they all spake English , Death best becomes that Dialect , The first was bloody Hasleriggs , the second More villaine-like was Selbyes , but the third All had a hand in . Trumpet . Enter Messenger . Mess. English Embassadours . Exit Mess. Wa. They are welcome , let not one sullen browe Be seene in all this fiery firmament . Enter Mountford , Glascot , and Sebastian . Wal. Welcome , your businesse ? Seb. Farre more like a Prince , Then a base rebell looks the Northerne traytor . Mount . Thus to a rebell from a royall King , If Wallace will confesse himselfe a traytor , And for his bloody outrages and thefts , Crave mercy , and submit himselfe to Edward , There 's hope of life . Wal. Still charitable English . Seb. T is not he sure , This looks not like a man shold shake a kingdome . Mount . This it he shall denie , Rape , murther , ruine , all the sonnes of warre Stands striving for the prey , and once let loose , Shall not be checkt , nor taken up , till rage Be tyr'd with murther , and thy selfe in chaynes Hang'd like a villaine . Wal. This is all perfit English , have ye yet spoke ? Moun. We have . Wa. Then we begin , And to a tyrant thus sayes a loyall subject , If Edward will confesse himselfe a tyrant , And kingly fellon , and make good such theft As he and his have practis'd , sue his peace By yeelding up his and himselfe to Wallace , There 's hope of life , this if he shall deny Rape , murther , ruine , all the brood of warre Shal be let flie , and never be lur'd of Till they be gorg'd , and bated with the heart Of the proud King himselfe . Seb. Now speakes a man Would thrust Iove from Olympus . Glas. Calme your spleene , For now speaks mercy , if your Countryes wrongs Grow from abuse in Edwards substitutes , You shall have equall hearing , and the wrongs Punish't in the deservers . Wa. This should not be English , Or if it be King Edward is no tyrant . Glas. What answers Walace ? Wa. First pray pardon me , If like the working of a troubled sea My bosome rose in billows , for though the windes That rais'd the storme be downe , yet the deare ruines Lye still in view , a father , and a wife , Age , beauty , and religion , for thee Thousands shall weep , as many wives Shed purple teares for thee , as many Church-men Offer their reeking soules in sacrifice , Court , City , Church , the Chamber of your King , The Chaire of State shall be no priviledge . Seb. This was not Edwards act . Wa. Yet such as Edward Plac'd in commission , oh t' was a churlish storme , And wretched I like a forlorne surviver Left to interre their deare remembrances . Seb. Good gentleman . Wa. But bid relentlesse Edward Send in the pyrats Haslerigg and Selbye , And in their hands letters of Murt subscribed , To make me Master of my owne revenge , Or like a Ball wrapt in a cloud of fire , Ruine shall fall upon his palace top , Pierce through the roofe , and in his chayre of State Sollicit Iustice . Mo. Into his Princely eares I 'le give your wrongs . Gri. Will Walace here advise ? Wa. Yes . Gri. Then be rul'd by Grymsby . Whispers . Wal. Thanks for thy kindnesse . Lords Embassadors , Such we esteeme you , may we crave perusall 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 rebell , know I am a Prince , And nephew to the Queene . Wal. Wer 't thou the King , Having no portion in the Embassie , I 'de ha' thy head , goe 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 wil be more milde . Exeunt . Wa. Wallace wil be more just Then see the Law of Armes disgrac'd Sound Drums and drown their cries . Revenge beats at heavens gates for tyrannies . Enter Agen . So now our tragick Muse jets on the stage , You that for seeing basenesse want your sight , Beare with this present our indeer'd , commends Back to the Queen , and say so much we tender Her sacred honour , weed not see it wrong'd Even in her Nephew , you that for sparing speech In honours cause are justly mute , conduct This eyelesse 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 Armes . Exeunt English . Gri. This will affright the English . Wall . Honor'd Grimsby , This and ten thousand , thousand more extremes Cannot appease my anger , you that love me See those I lov'd inhum'd , my selfe disguis'd , Will be their Convoy to the English Campe , And see their usage . Gri. 'T will be an act of danger . Wal. The fitter him that undertakes it , Wallace Would hold himself not worthy of his fate Should he bawke danger , disswade not , I will on Were certain death against my bosome bent , There 's gain in bloud it 's honorably spent . Exit . Gri. And such I feare will thine be , honour'd friends See those remayns of honorable love Cradled in earth , that once perform'd take Armes To venge their deaths , Mentith , I attend The comming of some speciall friends by oath , Bound to assist us , hark how their friendly drums Chide them for loytring . Enter Douglas , Mackbeth , and Wintersdale . Honor'd Douglas , welcome , Welcome Mackbeth , and doughty Wintersdale , Not , unto men more , driven in needfull want , Could you have brought supply . Doug. The better welcome , Gold to rich men , and treasure to the wealthy , Are known companions , wher 's our Generall , The hopefull Wallace ? Gri. Gone in quest of death , Firme 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 Generall , Dares not face danger , and out-do the Devill . Gri. And such a man is Wallace , yet least worth Bears him beyond his strength , bring up your powers For present charge , his thoughts are tragicall , And full of bloud , active , and violent all . Doug You that best know 'em , feed 'em , all that 's ours , For Scotlands good call Wallaces and yours . Exeunt . Enter Wallace , like a halting Souldier on wooden stumps , with Mountford dumbe , and Glascot blinde . Wal.

Whare man ? till the English Campe senu you , gad sides you gang as I ha' seene mony a your Contrymen like ranck riders amble up westward , you gang the wrang wey man , you sall luse and ye play at shoolagroate , ha' ye na linckers ?

Glas. Ahlas I want my eyes , but have a tongue , He sees , but cannot speake . Wa.

Blyncke at smaw faults then , make me the thirdman , and here 's a bunny noyse of Fidlers to gang fra winehouse to winehouse , a blind harper , a mute Cornet , and an old Scotch bagpipe worne to th' stumps .

Glas. Are you a Scotch man Sir ? Wa.

Ye marry am I , boddy and sawle a true Scotchman borne , but a true liegeman , hang him that does not luife your King , and your Countryman , what gude victales is that which thilke bonny man that haz glazen windows to his lindging has tyed up in his wallet there ?

Glas. T is the head of a young murderd gentleman . Wa.

What senn you man ! a mans scalpe , I doubt ye be three fawse knaves liggand yare heads together about na gudenes , a traytors head is t not ?

Gla. No , but we ha' met with villaynes worse then traytors . Walace 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 zed beare it by my sawle to th' English Campe Or neere gang farder . Gla. T wold be a glorious fight there . Wa. And you could see it ye sulled sea so man , Wallace Cut of my shancks too , cause I ran away from him To serve your gude Prince , harke man , I weare Na shooen but wodden clampers . Gla. Of charity leade us to th' English Campe , Ye shall besides thanks be most royally payd . Wal. Gang alang man t is hard by now , a mans head I deempt the pure man had gangand lang to lawe And sae was thrust out of dores by head and shoulders . Glas. No lawe was ere so cruell as Wallas is . Wa.

Ne marry ? na law sa cruell , fay man fay , I luick'd upon a man a lawe not lang since that sent an awde man and his wife , and many barnes a begging , he had better a slizand theire weazond pipes , and cut theire heads off , but whay was a sa bludy mynded thinke ye ?

Gla. I cannot judge . Wa.

Marry man , to get possession of the pure mans house , but there was a cat ganged beyond the man a lawe .

Gla. A cat goe beyond a lawyer ? how ? Wa.

I 'le tell you how , the man a lawe being got in , the Cat outreach'd him , and leaped to th' top o th lindging , and standand on the tyles , the man a lawe scoarning any ane to be abuife him , offer to fling and ding and downe the poore puscatt , but she meawed at him , and cryed hawd thou foule lowne hawd , as thou thrusts out this poore man and his barnes , sa there is ane abuife sall thrust out thee , stay blind man , here comes souldiers .

Enter Bolt with three or foure tattar'd Souldiers . Omn. Stand que voula , spyes about our trenches ? Bolt . And see they have knock'd some man downe sirra , You that carry two faces under a hood , What are you ? 1 So. He must be prest , he will not speake . Bol. What art thou I charge thee ? hast thou neere a tongue In thy head ? give the word . Gla, He has no tounge indeed sir . Bol. Two heads and neere a tongue , what are you ? That like a blind asse stand still , and cannot tell us so . Gla. I 'me blind indeed , Conduct us to the Lords i' th' English Campe . 2 So. How Lords , are you Ladyes that you long for Lords ? Bol.

Do you take us for gulls to goe tell the Lords here 's a dumbe man would speake with 'em , what are you sirra ? come halt not , le ts not find you in two tales y' are best .

Wa.

Ize a Scotch man sir , ye shall neere find me in twa tales .

Bo. A Scotch man sir , do you know where you are sir ? Your blew 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 'ze a pure Scotch souldier out at heeles , and am glad to bestirr my stumps , guide these gude men y' are wranged Countrymen , wha that fawse traytor Wallace has misusand in sike wise .

Om. Wallas , oh slave ! Bolt . I shall live ( fellows in armes out at Elbows ) To give fire to my peece with a burnt ynch of match Made of that rascals fat of mawegut . Wa. By my sawle sir wad I might come To 'th making of sike a match . Bol. Here 's my hand , because thou sayest so , Thou shalt be by when I make him give fire to my touch-hole . Enter Queene Elenor , Clifford , Percy , Beaumont , and others . Omn. The Lords are going to view the trenches . Bol. Every man to his parrapet , To your trenches you tatterd roagues ! Cli. It s well done fellowes . 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 Honors sifting , I have fortifications to look too . Cliff . There 's drinking money , hence to your works . Bol. Blesse your honours . Exeunt Bolt . and Sould. Percy . What men are these , I aske , will no man speak ? Gla. Heare and in hearing wish the sound unheard , Youthfull Sebastian nephew to the Queene Longing to see the man fam'd for th' excesse Or goodnes and of badnes , seeing unjoyned In honored Embassie disguis'd attempted The rebell Wallaces presence . Omn. Glascot and Mountford . Clif. Who did this damned villany ? Gla. Our message told , The traytor newly set on fire with madnes , Showing the mangled bodies of a Fryer , His wife and father , burst out into flames Hye hot and violent , In which fierce rage Revolted Grimsby knew Sebastian ( Tho Herald like he went disguis'd ) and seazed Him and us for three intelligencing spies , Cut off his head , his tongue , and Glascots eyes . Per. Hang up this , provide for these , trufle him up . Wa. What sen ye man ? Exeunt Moun. and Glas. Per. What slave , what Turke that murders his owne brethren Durst play the tyrant thus ? hang all the Nation Whom we have tane to mercy , I 'le not spare Fathers , nor mothers , nor their bawling barnes , fire their houses , hang up this tike first . Wal.

Ah bonny men , I met um playe and at bo-peep , & gangand out a their way , and sall I be hanged for my good deeds of charrity , I 'ze a poor Scutch souldier , and am ron away from that Rebell Wallas , to feight and for your gude Prince , ah he 's a gude King , and y' are all bonny men , I 'ze follow ye all to the death , and to the Devill , and ony man dare gang so far for all my clutches , giffe I clutch Wallace , he 's neer carry it till hell nor heaven .

Per. If he do , may Percies name be crost Out of the roll of men . Clif. So much swears Clifford . Per. Sneak not away sirra , y' are not gone yet . Wal. I ken it vary wee l . I 'ze not gangan to hanging yet . Clif. Yet though a traitour , thus much let me speak For absent Wallace , were the case your own , Or one that 's baser having any spirit , A murder'd 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 Nephews death And the disgrace done our Embassadours . Clif. They then put off their title , and put on The name of spies , when in their companies , They take disguis'd observers . Wal. By my sawle the English are gallant men . Per. No snare to intrap this Wolfe ? Clif. How Northumberland , intrap a fo ? Sure 't is no English word , Clifford at least was ne're acquainted with 't . Give him fair summons , dare him to the field , And trap him then . Wal. Ah bony man ! Per. His being a traitour warrants it , dispatch A second message with acknowledgment Of former wrongs to our Embassadours , With promise of a friendly enterview Early to morrow , impartially to heare Their wrongs , and mildely minister redresse . Clif. Insnare him so and spare not , for you 'le finde I feare , That Selby , Haslerig , and the rest Lay yokes too heavy on the Nations 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 bloudy Tygre into th' net And waking then or sleeping kill him . Clif. No . Per. All stratagems are lawfull 'gainst a fo . Clif. Do what you will , but my consent is no . Beau. I 'le venture to the Rebell . Per.

Do good Beaumont , Scotchman dar'st thou conduct him as his guide ?

Clif. But return sirra , or the next time we take yee Y' are Crag shall pay for 't . Wal.

I 'ze not run away fra yee , giffe I do hang mee and drae mee , cum bully Joe , I dare not gang to the Scottis Campe , th'y le sa slay upon me , I se near cum back agen , but I ze bring you where yee shall see that Lowne Wallace .

Beau. That 's all I wish ; lead on . Wal. Marry sall I , luke to your selfe , I se thrust you into the Dewles 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 peece , And is so curious in her workmanship , No part deforms him , Yet Wallace is a Rebell , his chief scandall Is poverty of Gentry , by my sword We rt no impeach to my deare Ancestors , I well could spare him some of my unus'd titles , Or would at martiall gaming so I might lose And Wallace winne so much of Cliffords honour , Our stocks might be alike , but I exceed , This night he is betray'd , he shall not , I 'le turn traitor first he shall not , Call Beaumont back , or else by Cliffords honor , An oath which I esteem above my life , I will turn traitor , and reveale your plots , Call him back . Per. Is Clifford mad ? Clif. No Percie 's lunatick , 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 Beare ? goe call him back . Enter Beaumont with a wooden stump . Per. See he comes uncall'd . Clif. The news . Bea. News call you it , let no Scot come neer your tents , Wallace sends you this token . Clif. Ha , how , Wallace . Per. Was that the traitor ? Clif. By Mars his helme , a compleat Warrior , I so love his worth , I 'le court it with my sword . Bea. Had you but stood in distance of his thunder , For , we parted just where our trenches ended , You 'de ha' sworn the God of War had spoke , Quoth he , tell Percy , he shall not need . To hunt me in my tent , I 'le rouze him in 's own , And bids me give you this wooden stumpe , And sweares to make you weare it , If you dare stand him in the field . Per. Base Rebell , why durst he not stand here ? Clif. None pray'd him stay , T was manners being not welcom'd 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 joyn 't , he knows best how to use it . At my return from France , quoth he , this vow Which I have promis'd shall be surely payed , Our Country overtopt with tyranny , Makes us flie thither for succour , Aeolus , Let favourable winds and tydes assist me , That spoak , revolted Grimsby and his powers Met him in Armes , what further he intends , Harke their Drum tels , here my Commission ends . Clif. Le ts send him commendations too , beat ours . Exeunt .
Act. III . Enter Sir Ieffrey and Bolt with a Trunke . Ief. Set downe Bolt , I can beare with thee no longer . Bolt .

No more can I beare any longer with you , Sir Ieffry , but what a reeling drunken sot is this sea , that casts up such gobbets as this , is this a windfall or no now sir Ieffery ? your Worship knows both the tags and points of the law .

Ief.

Yes sure it is a windfall , for as we walk'd 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 some body ha's had but a bad fish-dinner to day .

Jef.

The Seas have crost them that sought to crosse the Seas , and therefore for my part I 'le never meddle with these water-works .

Bolt .

Nor I , le ts be more wise then a number of gallants , and keep the land that 's left us , did you ever see such gambols as the waves made sir Ieffery ?

Ieff.

Never since I wore the nightcap of Iustice , 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 heare what a dolefull cry they made , When their maine yard was split ? Bolt .

Alas sir , would it not make any man roare that had but an inch of feeling or compassion in his belly to have his mayne yard split , and how the marriners hung by the ropes like Saint Thomas Onyons .

Ieff. I saw it Bolt with salt eyes . Bolt .

So that you may see at sea however the winde blowes , if a man be well hung , hee s cocke sure .

Ieff. But Bolt what dost thou thinke this to be ? Bol. A matter of some weight as I take it . Ieff.

I hope 't is gold 't is so heavy , and 't was going out of the Land .

Bol.

Like enough , for gold goes now very heavily from us , and silver too , both red chincks , and white chincks flie away , but sir Ieffery , if this be gold , how rich is the sea , thinke ye , that has innumerable such sands ?

Ief. More rich then the land , and more fat . Bo.

So it had need , for the land looks with a leane payre of cheeks , yet it has an excellent stomach , it digests any thing .

Ieff.

Then t is like the sea , for all 's fish that comes to net there .

Bol.

I 'le tell you the mystery of that , looke what mouthes gape at land , the selfe same gape at sea , all the land is one kingdome , 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 eate up the little men : so Whales feed upon the lesser fishes .

Ie.

Belike then the watry common wealth are ill govern'd .

Bo.

No bravely , for heroicall Hector Herring is King of fishes .

Ie. So . Bo.

Rich cobs his good subjects , who at Yarmouth lay downe their lives in his quarrell , sword-fish and Pike are his guard .

Ie. On . Bo.

Fresh Cods the gallants , and sweet slipper the Knights , whiting-mopps the Ladies , and Lillie-white-mussels the wayting-gentlewomen .

Ie. Dangerous meat to take too much of . Bol. But who the pages ? Ie. Shrimps . Bo.

No , no sir , perriwinckles are the pages , perriwinckles .

Ie. No Iustices among them ? Bo.

Yes sir Ieffery , Thornebacks are the Iustices , Crabs the Constables , whom if you butter with good words , 't is passing meat at midnight .

Ie. Ah , ha . Bo. Dogfish are Iaylors , And Stockfish the poore common people . Je. Indeed they live hardly . Bo.

But sir they are beaten too 't , then have you wet Eeles 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 Kingdome can stand without laws , and where law ha's her eyne , there Lawyers & Pettifoggers swarme , therfore the Lawyers here are sharks , and gudgeons the poore Clyents .

Wallace within . Wa. Wa ho ro sol fa , sol fa . Bo. Harke . Ie. Peace Bolt . Bol. Nay peace you good sir Ieffery , peace , peace . Wa. Sol la , sol la sol la sol la . Bo.

Some Faulconers teaching his Hawke pricksong , Shall I mocke him in 's owne key .

Ie. Do . Bo. Sol fa sol fa , here boy . Enter Wallace . Wa. Here boy , wa ha ho ho , All haile to you two . Bo. And all snow to you sir . Ie.

Sirra what art thou that wishest all the haile to light upon us two ?

Bo. Answer wisely to my master , For hee 's a Iustice of peace , and you 'l be smelt out . Wal. I am a drown'd rat . Ie. A Rat ? Bo. Do you take sir Ieffrey for a Rat-catcher , You le tell a sweet tale for your selfe anon . Wal. Pox rot you , I am shipwrack't , Give me some meate . Bo. Shall I make his Mittimus ? he begs sir . Wa. i ha met more then my match , Neptune and I , Wrastling for fals , he got the masterie , I 'me with his beating bruis'd , weary , cold , weak , Liquor'd soundly . Bo. He 's drunk . Wal. Yet so thirstie scarce can speak , If ye be men , help me to food and fire . Ie. What Countryman art thou sirra ? Wal. A Scot , give me some victuals pray . Bo. No minde but of thy belly . Ie. Sirra , sirra , you are a Scot , and I a true English Justice . Bo. Not a word of Latine , neither Justice , nor Clarke . Ie.

Peace Bolt in the Kings name , I charge thee , if you will eat bread earn bread , take up this luggage , sirra , follow me home to my house , thou shalt have good bread , good drink , and good fire , up I command thee .

Wal. I am necessities slave , and now must beare . 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 eares , sir . Bo.

If th' execution had been upon the land Sir Ieffrey , as 't was upon the Sea , your worship had been in a worse pickle then he .

Ie. Why Knave ? why ? Bo. Because he that ha's a bad name is half-hang'd , And your worship knowes , 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 Ieffrey ? Ie. Yes . Wa. Would I had this trunk full of 'em . Bo.

Peace Greedi-gut , Plum-porridge 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 pluck'd first .

Ie. Hold I charge thee . Wal.

Y are a scurvy Iustice , yare man 's an Asse , and you another with a velvet foot-cloth on your back , I ken ye vary wee l , and I se knock ye vary wee le , if any thing be worth victales , it goes down here .

Bo.

The Devill choake you , if you be a man of your word .

Wal.

Wiseacres , if you would fain know who ha's got this trash from yee , 't is I , Wallace the Scot .

Both : Wallace . Bo. Flie sir Ieffrey , He calls us Woodcocks , let 's flie and raise the Country . Wal. D' e ye grumble ? raise the Devill and spare not . Exeunt . Wert thou a chest of gold , I 'de give thee all for victuals , Hunger , they say , will break stone wals , Your chops are not so hard , Ye shall burst tho with iron ribs ye were bar'd ,

— victuals — wine too , — few justices doe feed the hungry thus , o these Wiseacres are the bravest fellowes , specially English Wiseacres .

Enter Selby miserably poore . Sel. I 'le now be my own carver , misery and age Want and despaire have brought me to deaths doore , And shall I not enter ? yes I will , this key Shall doo 't , is death so surly , may a poore man Speake sooner with a King then speake with him When he has most need of him , ugly leane slave , So I may see him , no matter for a grave . Wall . How now , what do'st looke for ? Sel. For that which a quarter of the world Wants , a tree to be hang'd upon . Wall . Art weary of thy life ? Selby .

Yes all men are of their old wives , my life ha's gone up and downe with me this threescore and odde yeares , 't is time to be weary on 't I thinke now .

Wal.

And when tha 'st hang'd thy selfe , whither do'st thinke to go then ?

Sel. To the Linnen-draper . Wa. What Linnen-draper ? Sel.

The richest in the world , my old Grandmother the Earth , how many paire of sheets has she had , thinke ye , since Adam and Eve lay together , It 's the best Inne to lye at , a man shall be sure of good linnen .

Wal. Who dwels hereabouts ? Sel.

One upon whom all the poore in the Countrey cryes out .

Wa. Whos 's that ? Sel.

Scarcity , dearth , penurie , famine , hunger , I have not knowne that man lives by food these foure dayes , and therefore I 'le descend to th' Antipodes , because I 'le kicke at this world .

Wall . Stay , famine shall not kill thee , sit and eate Thy belly full , thy cares in good wine drowne , By my owne fall I pitty others downe , Is 't not good cheere ? Sel.

Brave , I thanke you for it , how many beggers does a rich man eate at his table at one meale , when those few crummes are able to save a mans life , how came you sir into this fearefull nest of Screech-owles and Ravens ?

Wa.

Cast up by the Sea , I was shipwrack'd and lost all my company .

Sel.

Would I had beene one of 'em , I have lost more then you have done , I ha' lost all that I had but my sinnes , and they hang so heavy on my eye-lids , I can scarce look so high as the brimmes of my hatt to heaven , I have such a minde downwards , I have almost forgot who dwels over my head .

Wa. Looke up , be not afraid , there raignes no tyrant , Wud thou hadst beene with me at sea . Sel. So wud I . Wa. Hadst thou an Atheist been , and God not known , thou 'dst found him in the deepe , there hee 's best showne , He that at Sea is shipwrackt , and denyes A Deity ( being there sav'd ) damn'd lives and dyes , Man no where in the twinckling of an eye Is throwne so neare to hell , or rais'd so high Towards heaven , then when hee 's toss'd upon the waves It must be a hand omnipotent there that saves , But how came you sir hither ? Sel. I was banish'd from England ( but that grieves me not ) But I kill'd an old man , he was call'd Wallace . Wa. Ha ? Sel. Wallace , and me thinks hee 's still at mine elbow . Wa. Elbowe ? idle : Selby my fathers murderer ? Thinke not upon it , sit eat heartily Thy last , sit downe , I say , never to rise , Drinke wine , drinke deepe , let thy soule reele to hell . Sel. I am almost dead with cold . Wa. I 'le fetch dry sticks , And with two flints kindle fire , beat out his braines : O that physicke had the power to make thee yong , I 'de fetch thee drugs from th' utmost of the world , And then would arme thee , or , into thy veines Halfe my owne bloud I 'de power , to lend thee strength , That I might kill thee nobly . Sel. Be quiet , I 'le pay thee . Wa. How now ? Sel. A slumber took me , and me thought old Wallace Clapt me upon the shoulder with one hand , And with the other pointed to his wounds , At which I started , spake , but know not what , I 'me cold at heart . Wa. I 'le seeke for fire . Sel. I thanke 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 , eate and get strength , I 'le seek for fire , Vnlesse I be a devill ( tho I have cause To kill thee ) yet my quicke hand shall eschew it , Thy carelesse confidence does bind me to it , This mercy which I show now is for Gods sake , In part of payment of his showne to me , If I should kill thee now , thou owest me nothing , Live , and be still my debter , I shall do thee More harme to give thee life , then take it from thee , Heaven in my fathers bloud who is chiefe sharer , Shall strike for me a revenge more just and fairer . Exit . Enter Haslerig , poore as th' other with Apples . Has. Selby , Selby , How like a Churle thou feed'st alone , And greedy art to fatten misery — Selby ? Sel. Here . Has. Look I ha' found a jenniting tree . Sel. Where stands it ? Has. I 'le not tell thee ; see brave food . Sel. Le ts taste it . Has. Not a paring , what hast there ? Sel. The dole of plenty . Has. Good old Rogue I thank thee , I have a stomack like a Lawyer , Le ts eat fruit when we have fill'd our bellies . Sel. Not a bitt . Has. Ha ? Sel. Not a paring of cheese . Has. I must . Sel. Thou shalt not , I pay thee in thy own coyne . Has. Thy doting age is almost at her journies end , My youth having far to go needs more provision , And i le have this — Sel. Hands off Kils him . Has. You Dog , you old Devill . Sel. I thank thee , thou hast cut the threed in two , Of all my woes , heaven pardon us both , adue . Has. Selby , no water from the hallowed Fount , Toucht thee , thou art so fatall , Selby , dead ! Gods building which ha's stood this threescore yeeres , This ha's defac'd , would it were up agen With ruine 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 , 'T is not so sinfull nor so base a stroke To spoile a Willow as an old reverend Oke , From me th' art gone , but i 'le from hence nere fly , But sit by thee , and sigh , and weep , and die . Enter Sir Jeffrey , Bolt , Souldiers . Bo.

Stand , that 's he who turns his taile to us , which is as much as to say , A fart for your Worship .

Om. Down with him . Sir Jef.

Peace , it 's a wilde Bull wee come to set upon , and therfore let those Dogs that can fasten bite soundly .

Bo.

My harts , we come not to bait an Asse in a Beares skin , but a Lion in his own skin , he 's a traitour .

Om. How know we that ? Bo.

Thus , he hides his face , and wee are not to back a traitor , Sir Jeffrey , you 'le get between mee and the Gallows , if I strike him down .

Jeff.

I 'le enter into a Recognizance to hang before thou shalt hang .

Bo.

If you see my heart begin to faint , knock you mee down to put life into me .

Ief. Feare nothing . Bolt strikes him down . Has. Be damn'd both gods and men the act detest , Oh heaven ; wipe this sinne out for all the rest . Bo.

Your sins are wip'd out sir , your Scottish score is paid sir .

Ief. Is he down ? Bo. He sprawles , stay there 's one asleep by him , Shall I kill the lice in his head too ? Ief.

No , wake not a sleeping Mastive , the Kings in the field , Le ts post to him , Bolt , thou shalt be a Knight as deep as my selfe , for this manly deed , as ye go through the Country , cry aloud , the traitor 's dead .

Bo. Cry it out at the Crosse , and at the old Palace , That Bolt was the man that brain'd 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 ' , murdred ? What shouldst thou be ? the face of Haslerig , 'T is he , just heavens ye have bestow'd my office Vpon some other , I thank ye that my bloud 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 mournfull Philomell , Instead of flowres and strewing herbs take these , And what my charity now fails to do , Poor Robin-redbrest shall , my last adue , I have other streames to swim through , or calme Venture , 't is brave when danger 's crown'd with palme . Exit . Enter with Drum and Colours , the Generall of Scotland , with Grimsby , Mentith , Coming , and Souldiers with blew Caps . Gen. Vpon this field-bed will we lodge this night , The earth 's a souldiers pillow , here pitch our tents . Men. Om. Vp with our tents . Gen. To councell , beat a Drum . Gri. Beat it for action then , and not for words , Vpon our Speare points our best counsell fits , Follow that ( noble Generall ) up with no tents If you dare hold me worthy to advise , But with an easie march move gently on . Gen. You speak against the Scholership of war . Gri. Now their Beef-pots , and their Cans , Are toss'd in stead of Pikes , their Armes are thrown About their Wenches middles , there 's their close feight , Let us not lose the forelock in our hands , Of us they dream not , yet we are as free-born 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 dreadlesse Souldier , For whom all Scotland shed a sea of teares 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. Intreat him hither .
Act. IIII . Enter Wallace with Drum , Colours and Souldiers , they all imbrace him . Com. D' ee heare 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 Plaine For battaile far more advantagious . Wal. And so retiring be held runawayes . Here stands my body , and ere this English Wolves Stretch their jaws ne're so wide , from hence shall drive I 'le rather lie here fifty fathome deep , Now at this minute , then by giving back One foot , prolong my life a thousand yeers . Gen. Then let us die or live here . Om. Arme , arme . Wal. Fall back ? not I , death of my selfe is part , I 'le never flie my self , here s no false heart : Le ts in our rising be , or in our falls Like bels which ring alike at Funerals , As at Coronations , each man meet his wound , With self-same joy as Kings go to be crown'd , Where charge you ? Gen. In the battaile , valiant Grimsby Is Generall of our Horse , the infantry By comming is commanded , Mentith and you Shall come up in the Reare . Wal. The Reare . Gen. Yes . Wal. No , sir . Let Mentith , Wallace shall not . Gen. He may choose . Wal. Were I to hunt within a Wildernesse A herd of Tigres , I would scorn to cheat My glories from the sweat of others brows , By encountring the fierce beasts at second hand , When others strength had tam'd him , let me meet The Lion being new rowz'd , 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 le ha' the leading of the Van or none . Gen. Then none , you wrong us all , Men now are plac'd , and must not be dishonour'd . Wal. So , dishonour'd . Gen. Charge in the Reare for Gods sake , now to stand On terms of worth hazards the fate of all . Wal. Well be 't so then , the Reare , see you yon hill , Yonder i 'le stand , and tho I should see Butchers , Cut all your throats like sheep , I will not stirre Till I see time my selfe . Gen. Your pleasure , on , Each Leader spend his best direction . Exeunt . Enter King , Percy , and Bruce , Hertford , Sir Ieffrey , 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 hang'd here before yee , 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 'me sure .

K. Me thinks , thou shouldst not look him in the face . Bo. No more I did , I came behind his back & felld him . King . Art thou a Gentleman ? Bolt .

I am no gentleman borne , my Father was a poore Fletcher in Grubstreet , but I am a gentleman by my place .

Kin. What place ? Bo. A Justices Clarke , sir Jeffery Wiseacres . Je.

My man , if it please your Majesty , an honest true Knave .

Kin. Give to sir Wiseacres Clark an hundred pounds . Jef. I thank your grace . Bolt . God confound all your foes at the same rate . K. But if this Wallace , sirra , be alive now , You and your hundred pounds shall both be hang'd . Bolt . Nay I will be hang'd ere I part from my money , Who payes , who payes ? Enter Clifford . Clif. Charge , charge . K. The news brave Clifford . Cli.

The daring Scot fuller of insolence then strength Stand forth to bid us battell .

K. Throw defiance back downe their throats , and of our Heralds Northumberland the honor shall be thine , tell 'um We come to scourge their pride with whips of steele , Their City hath from Iustice snatch'd her sword To strike their Soveraigne , who ha's turn'd the point Vpon their own breasts , tell 'em this . Per. I shall . Exit . Cliff . Where 's noble Bruce ? Bru. Here . Cliff . I have a message , but t is more honorable , sent to you too , The Herald saies that Wallace dares ye , his Spite is all at you , and if your spirit be great As his , you finde him in the reare . 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 Kings word must be kept , hang 'em both . Bolt .

One word more good Sir , before I go to this geere ,

If a Kings word must be kept , why was it not kept , when he gave me the 100. li. wipe out one , I 'le wipe out the other .

Kin.

That jest hath sav'd your lives , let me see you fight to day .

Jeff. Bravely like Cocks . Bolt . Now Wallace look to your coxcombe . Omn. Move on . Enter to them the Scottish Army , and are beaten off . King . We have flesh'd them soundly . Cliff . I would not wish to meet with braver spirits . K. Stay , Bruce , what 's yonder on the hill ? Bru. They are Collors . Kin. Why do they mangle thus their Armies limbes ? What s that so farre off ? Br. Sure 't is the Reare , where burns the black brand , Kindles all this fire , I meane the Traytor Wallace ? King . What turn'd Coward ? A dogge of so good mouth , and stand at bay ? If in this heat of fight we breake their ranks , Presse through , and charge that devill , Bruce thy selfe . Bru. To hell if I can chase him . Kin. Charge up strong , harke , brave , Let now our hands be warriors , not our tongues . Exeunt . Enter the Scottish Army , Generall Grimsby , Coming , Mentith . A cry within . They flye , they flie . Generall . The English shrink , knit all our nerves And fasten Fortunes offer . Gri. Keep steedy footing , the daye is lost if you stir , Stirre not , but stand the tempest . Coming . I cry on . Gen. And I . Grim.

So do not I , this starting backe is but an English earth-quake , which to dust , shakes rotten towers , but builds the sound more strong .

Gen. Le ts on , and dare death in the thickest throng . Enter the English Army , and encompasse them . Grim. Did I not give you warning of this whirpoole For going too farre ? Ment. We are all dead men , yet fight So long as legges and Armes last . King . In how quicke time Have we about you built a wall of brasse ? Had he whom here you call your Generall A Souldier beene remarkable of great breeding , And now to be caught with lyme-twigs ? Generall . Keepe 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 Generall stay . Cliff .

Take breath , I would not have the world rob'd of two such spirits , poast to the King , and tell him that the noblest Harts of the whole heard are hunted to the toyle ,

Aske whether they shall fall , or live for gaine .

Messenger . I shall . Exit . Charge . Enter Mentith at another doore . Ment.

For honours sake come downe , and save thy Countrey .

Wal. Whose is the day ? Ment. T is Edwards , come rescue Our Generall , and the noble Grimsby . Wal. Who ? Ment. Our Generall and stout Grimsby are enclosd With quick-sets made of steele , come fetch them off , Or all is lost . Wal. Is the day lost ? Ment. Lost , lost . Wal. Vnlesse the day be quite lost , I 'le not stirre . Ment. T is quite lost . Wal. Why then descend amaine , art sure t is lost ? Ment. Yes . Wal. Then wee 'le winne it againe . Enter Messenger . Clif. How now ? Mes. The King proclaimes that man a traytor That saves when he may kill . Cliff . Charge them blacke day , The Lyon hunts a Lyon for his prey . A fight . Enter Wallace and Souldiers , beat off the English , the Generall , and Grimsby slaine . Generall . Too late . Wall . Why then farewell , I 'le make what haste I can to follow thee , Bruce , Bruce , I am here , 't is Wallace calls thee , Dares thee . Bru. Tho I nere stoopt unto a traitors lure , I scorne thine , why do'st thou single me , Yet turnst thy weapon downward to the earth ? Wal. Le ts breathe and talke . Bru. I 'le parly with no traytor but with blows . Wal. Ye shall have blows your guts full , I am no traytor . Bru.

Why 'gainst thy Soveraigne lifts thou then thy sword ?

Wal. You see I lift it not . Bru. Tell Edward so thy King . Wal. Longshancks was never Soveraigne of mine , Nor shall whilst Bruce lives , Bruce is my Soveraigne , Thou art but bastard English , Scotch true borne , Th' art made a mastive 'mongst a heard of wolves , To weary those thou shouldst be shepheard of . The fury of the battell now declines , And take my counsell , though I seeme thy foe , Wash both thy hands in bloud , and when anon The English in their Tents their deeds do boast , Lift thou thy bloudy hands up , and boast thine , And with a sharpe eye note , but with what scorne , The English pay thy merit . Bru. This I 'le try . Wal. Dar'st thou alone meet me in Glasco-moore , And there I 'le tell thee more ? Bru. Thou hast no treason towards me ? Wa. Here 's my hand , I am cleare as innocence , had I meant treason Here could I worke it on thee , I have none . Bru. In Glasco-moore I 'le meet thee , fare thee well . Wa. The time . Bru. Some two houres hence . Wa. There I will untie A knot , at which hangs death or Soveraigntie . Exeunt . Enter the English Army . Kin. We have swet hard to day . Cli. T was 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 Armes , but now t is yours at legges .

King . Away , why givest thou me a cushion ? Bolt .

Because of the two , I take you to be the better man .

King . A souldiers coat shall never be so base To lye beneath my heele , th' art in this place My fellow , and companion , a health to all in England . Omn. Let it come . Cliff . Is not this he that kill'd Wallace ? Bolt . No sir , I am onely he that said so , As you sit , so did I lye . King . Sirra , where 's your master ? Bol. My master is shot . King . How shot , where ? Bol. I' th backe . Clif. Oh he ranne away . Bol.

No , my Lord , but his harnesse Cap was blowne off , and he running after it to catch it , was shot betweene necke 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 beene shot before him .

King . Why prethee ? Bolt .

Because my Knights name being Wiseacres , and mine Bolt , and you know a fooles bolt is soon shot .

Clif.

He ha's pind the foole upon his masters shoulder very handsomly .

King .

Sirra , 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 'le take order for the stomacks of the living .

King . How fought to day our English ? Per. Bravely . King . How the Scots ? Cliff . The pangs of war are like to child-bed throwes Bitter in suffering , but the storme being past , The talk , as of scap't shipwrack sweet , doth taste , The death of the Scotch Generall went to my heart , He had in him of man asmuch as any , And for ought I think , his bloud was poorly sold By his own Countrymen , rather then sought by us . Had not the Reare where Wallace did command , Stood and given ayme , it had bin a day Bloudy and dismall , and whose hard to say , Sir , you shall give me leave to drink a health To all the valiant Scots . King . Clifford , I 'le pledge thee , give me my bowle . Clif. Sir , I remembred Wallace in my draught . King . I did not , so this cup were Wallace Skull , I 'de drinke it full with bloud , 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 traitors head , if I could hav 't for money . Clif. I would give Twice twenty thousand Crowns to have his head On my swords point cut from him with this arme , But how i' th field , nobly , hand to hand , not this straw To a hangman that should bring it me . King . Let that passe , Wher 's Bruce , our noble Earle of Carrick ? Per. I saw him not to day , Clif. I did , and saw his sword Like to a Reapers Sithe , mow down the Scots . Enter Bruce . Here he comes . King . Brave Armory , 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 bloud , I never shall have Enough on 't , the Kings health . Omnes . Let come . Per. How greedily you Scot drinks his own bloud ! Omnes . Ha , ha , ha . K. If he should taste your bitternesse , 't were not well . Bruce . What 's that ye all laugh'd 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 parlee . Per. How in words ? Bruce . No Percy , I 'me no prater , 't was with swords , Your laughing jest was not at me ? Omnes . Sir , no . King . Bruce would fain quarrell , Bruce . I ha done sir . King . Peace , what Trumpet 's that ? Clif. From the enemy sure . King . Go learn . Enter Rugecrosse 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 battaile , by to morrowes sunne , Army to Army , troup to troup , he challenges , Or to save bloud , 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 steele , To scourge Rebellion , not to stand the braves Of a base daring vassall , bid him ere that Sun Which he calls up be risen , pay it and save His Country and himselfe from ruine , charge him on his head , To make his quick submission ; if he slow the minutes , Wee 'le proclaime in thunder his and his Countries ruine , Go be gon , Arme . Omnes . Arme , Arme . King . A Land that 's sick at heart must take sharp pils , For dangerous physick best cures dangerous ils . Exeunt .
Actus V. Enter Bruce and Clifford . Bruce . As you are a souldier , as y' are noble I charge you and conjure you to unclaspe A book in which I am graveld . 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 poyson tasted in my wine ? Clif. I care not if I doe , because I love vertue even in My enemy , the bowle of wine kissing your lip . Behold , quoth one how eagerly you Scot , Drinks his own bloud . Bruce . You Scot drinks his own bloud , which Scot ? Clif. Best wake some Oracle . Bruce . Who brake the jest upon me ? Clif. Pray pardon me . Exit Cli Bruce . The Oracle I 'le wake is here , oh Wallace , I ne're had eyes till now , they were clos'd up By braving English , witchcraft drinks his own bloud , England my stepdame take my bitter curse , Thy own nails teare 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-edg'd with bloud and fire , To burn and drown this Kingdome and this King . Enter a Gentleman . Gent. My Generall Charg'd me in privacie 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 nere was runaway , Twelve silver pence , oh bitter scorn , with Judas , I have betray'd my Master , my dear Country , And here 's the embleme of my treachery , To hasten to some tree , and desperate die , Twelve sterling silver pence , sterling , ha sterling , 'T is a limbe of Scotland , spurs for flight , Clifford , i 'le thither , comment I wrong or right . Exit . Enter Grimsby , Mentith , Coming , English Herald , and Rouge-crosse . Ment. Stay noble Grimsby , ere he further passe One of us certifie our Generall , Perhaps hee 'l not admit him to his presence . Grim. 'T is 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 least he sends his Gauntlet . Men. Gauntlet , no the English Fight not two dayes 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 mall'd your Nation , Thei 'le 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 mercie , and the Kings pardon , at which who bites ha's his swallowing spoiled for ever , there 's no Scot but scorns to hang his hope on your Kings promises , be it nere 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 out-shine His capring gallants , be would dote on him , As Jupiter did on Ganymede , and make him His chief Minion . Herald .

Hee does already so really dote upon him , 't is not yet the age of one houre since my Master sware 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 faire shew 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 wind-falls too , Some English Earldome or so , here is none but friends , Should you betray the conference , I care not , I would deny it , and I would oresway Your proofs tho neere so massie . Com. It shall not need , beleeve me worthy Mentith . What here you looke is safe . Ment.

Shall we earne this English gold , ten thousand crownes ?

Com. My hand . Ment. They are ours , hee 's dead . Com. No more , he comes . Enter Wallace , Grimsbie , Herald . Wal. I am to him no vassal , hee 's a tyrant , So tell him , ere his frowne shall bend my knee , This shall be hang'd upon the gallow tree , For my appearance tell him this , I 'le dyne On Christmas day next in his English Court , And in his great Hall at Westminster , at 's owne boord , Wee 'le drink Scotch healths in his standing cups of gold : His blacke Iackes hand in hand about his Court Shall march with our blew bonnets , we 'le eate nothing But what our swords shall carve , so tell his Souldiers , Wee 'le sit like Lords there whilst they rayle like slaves , Go with Scotch threats , pay backe your English braves . Grim. You le make the English mad . Exit Herald . Omn. A brave defiance . Wal. Defiance , Le ts mad them more , they shall not sleep to night , Good Grimsbie beat a drum , let bon-fires shine Through all our army , as if our Tents were burnt , And we dislodg'd , but recollect our troops Into an ordered body , some thing wee 'le do To make our Chronicles swell with English rue . Grim. A Drum , call a Drum . Exit Grimsbie . Wa. Oh sir John Mentith I have crackt the Ice , To a designe , which if it will succeed , England no more shall strike , nor Scotland bleed . Ment. Com. Le ts be partakers , deare sir . Wal.

What will you say , if I winne Bruce from the English ?

Ment. The happiest day that ever shone on Scotland . Com. And crowne him King ? Wal. That 's the up-shot must crowne all , I 'm to meet him Before one houre grow old in Glasco-moore . Ment. How meet him ? Wa. As I am , both come alone , no words to any . Ment. Our lips are seal'd . Com. Will you ride , or go on foot ? Wal. No more , I 'le ride . Ment. Wee 'le passe the wood on foot . Wal. Jack Mentith , I do laugh to think what face , Longshancks wil make , when he shall heare what guests Will dine with him in 's Court on Christmas day . Ment. What face ? he 'le kill the Herald sure . Wal.

Oh! some charme for me to be invisible there , and see him .

Ment. For my part , of ten thousand crownes by this hand , I do wish you there . Com. For as many of mine , I sweare . Ment. Time may come , In his Exchequer we may share twice that summe . Wall . Hence , hye you before , keep close in the wood , Breake forth if you spie treason , if not , not . Both . Good . Exeunt . Enter the Fryers Ghost . Wa. Ha , if what thou seem'st thou art , step forward , speake , I have fac'd more horrid terror . Fryer . Whare do'st gang ? Wall . What 's that to thee ? Fryer . Thouse se not lest and lang , Twa wolves will suike thy bluide , by the third night , I charge thy sawle meete mine , thy death is dight . Wal. Thou art a lying spirit . Fryer . Bruce byn thy bane , Gif on thou gang luke not turne backe againe , Wallace beweere , me thinks it thee should irke , Mare need hast thou to serve God in the Kirke . Wa. Stay , if thou hast a voyce th' art bloud and bone , As I am , let me feele thee , else I 'le thinke thee A sorcerous imaginarie sound : Stand me , th' art some English damned witch , That from a reverend Fryer has stoln his shape To abuse me — stay — art gone ? no Hagge I will not . It spake sure , told me Bruce should Exit Ghost beckoning him to follow . be my bane , — cannot — shall not , heaven knows such things onely . Enter old Wallace his Ghost . That eye hath shot me throw , wounds me to death , I know that face too well , but 't is so gastly , I 'le rather with my nayles here dig my grave , Then once more behold thee . Exit Ghost . Part from me vext spirit , my bloud turnes to water , I beseech thee affright me not — it 's gone . Enter Peggies Ghost . Peg. Alace Scotland to wham salt thou compleyne , Alace , fra mourning wha sall the refayne ? I thee beseek and for him dy'd on tree , Come not nere Bruyce , yet Bruyce sall not hurt thee , Alace , alace , no man can stand 'gainst fate . The dampe dew fra the heaven does gyn to faw , I to my rest mim gange ere the Cock crawe . Wall . It was my wife , what horror meete I here ? No Armour in the world can hold out feare . Enter Grimsbie . Grim. We stay for your direction . Wal. Whom did you meete ? Grim. No body . Wa. Saw ye nothing ? Grim. Not any thing . Wa. T was my braines weaknesse then , I have seene strange sights , that anon I 'le tell ; If Grimsbie we meete never more , farewell . Exit . Grim. Ha , I am strucke dumbe , oh mans slippery fate ! Mischiefes that follow us at our backs we shunne , And are strucke downe with those we dreame not on . Exit . Enter Mentith , and Comyne . Ment. I have beside with Wallace sherife of life , Held private conference , who in Longshancks name , Who sweares to me we shall have good preferment , Beside the promist gold . Enter Wallace . Com. Peace , Wallace comes . Ment. Is the Bruyce come ? Wal. It is not yet his houre . Ment. Who came along with you ? Wa. My foot-boy onely , who is tying up my horse . Ment. Him must I kill . I 'le looke if Bruce be in sight yet — Exit . Wal. Do . Com. Y' are sad . Wa. My minde is shaken but the storme is o're , A cry , helpe , murder within . What cry is that ? Ment. Be arm'd , Bruce with a force comes to betray thee , From some villaines hand thy foot-boy is murdered . Wal. Murdred ? Bruce shall repent this deed . Both . So shalt thou , away with him . Enter Souldiers , knocke him downe , hurry him away in a sound . Exeunt . Enter Bruce muffled with a Souldier . Bru. Helpe to disguise me Souldier , in exchange Take these for thine , and here 's some gold to boot . Soul . If I be not hang'd , my Lord , in all my bravery , I care not . Bru. Phew , I warrant thee , Seale up thy lips and eyes , thou neither seest Nor canst tell where I am . Soul . Not I my Lord . Oh my poore wrong'd countrey , pardon me heaven , And with a feather pluck'd from mercies wing , Brush off the purple spots , that else would grow , Like freckles on my soule . Enter North and Clifford . Soul . My Lord , here comes company . Bru. Here quicke mine own agen , and get thee gone . Per. Sirra Souldier , saw'st thou the Earle of Huntington ? Soul . Huntington ? Cliff . The Lord Bruce , I meane . Bru. Who cals for Bruce ? Per. Muffled up , and alone , I 'le to the King . Exit . Cliff . Do , sirra be gone . Bru. Whither 's Percy gone ? he ask'd for Bruce . Cliff . There 's great enquirie 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 impostum'd spleene , Will flie into their faces , what command Has England now ? Clif. Fresh powers are to be levied , Which Bruce of Huntington must leade . 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 battell I receiv'd some wounds That yet bleed inward , I will no more banquet strangers With my native bloud . Cliff . Bruce speaks not like a subject . Bruce . English Edward commands not like a King , Thrice honour'd Clifford , I 'le trust you with my bosome . Clif. No , you shall not . My virgin honour is so chast , it shall not Keepe companie with a disquiet bosome , Nor talke with discontents . Bru. It shall not , I will but , Spare me , the ayre hath eares 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 traytor , traytor . Enter Mentith . Enter King , North , Herefor , and followers . King . A mutinie , what noyse is 't ? Per. Mentith , a Knight of Scotland . Cliff . Keepe him off . King . What com'st thou for ? Ment. Comyn my countryman and I have brought A jewell to your Highnesse , which if 't were right As 't is known counterfeit , 't were worth a kingdome , Wearied with warre , and pittying the deep wounds Which fainting Scotland beares upon her breast , And knowing that the onely sword which gashes Her tender sides , is grip'd in Wallace hands , I in my love to peace , and to the safetie Of two great Nations , am the man that layed Snares to entrap this monster , that devoures So many thousand lives , the Rebell 's tane . King . Where is he ? Ment. I have brought him to your English Camp , Force would not doo 't , but policie , we struck the Stagge To the ground , and thought him dead , but heaven put backe The blow of purpose , hee 's now come to life , From an astonishment when we thought him dead , To th' end the world may see the publique shame Of an Arch-traytor . King . Mentith hath wonne fame , And honour by this act , fetch in this devill . Exit Ment. Clif. Thou wilt have Englands thanks , but Scotlands curse , Thou never hast done better , never worse , Damn'd Iudas to thy Country-man and friend . Enter Wallace , Mentith , Comyn . Wal. Where am I ? Bru. Here with Bruce . Wal. Bruce my Soveraigne ? My bloud is sold , this is not Glasco-moore , Some villaine hath betray'd me . Cli. Speak to your country-men , Comyn and Mentith . Wal. Comyn and Mentith ? Something it was that made the modest night Looke angry on the world , I this was it , And this was it that cleft my fathers grave , And rais'd him from his monumentall bed of earth To give me gentle warning , this was it , That made my starre , when all the rest look'd pale , Blush like a fiery Meteor , can Heaven winke at this ? Ment. It can , it doth , and at farre greater mischiefs . Wal. Not of thy acting ? Ment. Yes of mine . Wal. Not here . Ment. Here or in Hell . Wal. Why then goe act them there , Boast of them there , in that black Kingdome tell That by a true subject a base Rebell fell . Kils him with his fist . King . What 's that ? Clif. Your Scotch jeweller is slain , King . By whom ? Clif. By Wallace . Wal. Heare me speak King Edward . Clif. Good my Liege heare him , King . Clif. I have vow'd , Neither to heare nor see him , drag him hence , Mine eye shall nor be so compassionate To view him , least I pitie him : hang , draw , and quarter him . Wal. First heare me speak , King . Drag him hence , and let that heart , those limbes , Which were the motives to rebellious warre Be torn asunder , cast upon that ground , Which he with unkinde steele so oft did wound , Away with him . Wal. Farewell , to all the World , I ha met death too often to feare him now , Only it grieves me that I have not freed Scotland my native soile from tyranny , Bruce , thou hast a Kingdome , 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 betrayes me — Exit . Bruce . Let him have noble triall . King . He shall have the triall of an Arch-traitour , Percy and Clifford take hence Bruce . Bruce . Me hence ? King . You hence sir , from this houre I sweare , Never to see thee Earle of Huntingdon , Harke Clifford , and Northumberland , awa Bruce . What is King Edwards meaning ? King . Your head shal feel our meaning , see it dispatch'd . Bruce . You may . Exeunt Bruce , North and Clifford . Com. My honor'd Lord , although untimely death , Hath taken hence one engine of that work , That brought that Rebell Wallace to his end . Seeing our Countries peace , and Englands good , Is by his death made perfect and compleat , I doubt not but the promised reward Of full ten thousand Crowns shall now remayn , To the Survivor . King . Comin , 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 feele 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 weare 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 sweare , Bruce stabs Comin . Bruce . Stand back , a Serpent shall not with his breath Infect our Kingly eares , die slave , for he That would betray his friend shall nere serve me . King . What hath Bruce done ? Bruce . A sacrifice of honour and revenge , no traitors hand Shall help to lift a Crown up to my head , Thou didst betray , then die unpitied . Clif. Brave Bruce , I 'le love thee for this honor'd act , Thou hast perform'd a noble piece of justice : Now shall the Ghost of Wallace sleepe in peace , And perfect love shall twixt these Lands increase . He hath his full reward for his foule treason , Drag hence the slave , and make him food for Crows . The Lamp that gave Rebellion light , hath spent The oile that fed it , all our spears are turn'd To Palmes and Olive branches , all our stars Are now made whole , peace is the balme of wars . FINIS .
Machine-generated castlist A14599-wallace 181 A14599-bolt 80 A14599-king 73 A14599-clifford 62 A14599-jeffrey 56 A14599-bruce 53 A14599-selby 46 A14599-grimsby 44 A14599-menteith 40 A14599-percy 36 A14599-haslerigg 34 A14599-peg 27 A14599-selby_jr 26 A14599-comming 23 A14599-omnes 22 A14599-wallace_sr 21 A14599-general 16 A14599-glascot 15 A14599-graham 14 A14599-friar 7 A14599-mountford 6 A14599-sebastian 6 A14599-beaumont 6 A14599-eleanor 6 A14599-multiple 5 A14599-rugecrosse 5 A14599-unassigned 5 A14599-yyyy_2 4 A14599-messenger 4 A14599-soldier 4 A14599-yyyy_1 4 A14599-selby_sr 3 A14599-within 3 A14599-thomas 3 A14599-both 3 A14599-douglas 2 A14599-gentleman 2 A14599-herald 2 A14599-edward 1 A14599-alarum 1 A14599-wallace_jr 1 A14599-mack 1
Textual Notes

The textual notes below aim at making textual corrections readable in their immediate context and facilitating access to the source text. A five-digit number preceded by 'A' or 'B' represents an EEBO-TCP filenumber. A notation like "6-b-2890" means "look for EEBO page image 6 of that text, word 289 on the right side of the double-page image." That reference is followed by the corrupt reading. A black dot stands for an unidentified letter, a black square for an unidentified punctuation mark, a diamond for a missing word, and the ellipsis for a short span of undefined length. The corrected reading is displayed as a keyword in context.

luifand upon sike luife , the awd fellon theef , luif and the true mans siller as you luifand ha●zard man , To throw thy self on this unequall hazzard , Grimsby thou standst so much degreed below Hasterig strengthen ours , That once in act , repair to Haslerig , Selby and Thorn , urge Peggies innocence Wllace Fay , sa , not sea , my bunny Wallace luifes me . rherefor Hawd therefor cherritie , and wad yee give Him to his thridman Blyncke at smaw faults then , make me the thirdman , and here's a bunny noyse of Fidlers to Ized lymmerlike wad I had his head here too , I zed beare it by my sawle toth' English Campe Gan●alang Gang alang man tis hard by now , a mans head gaugand now , a mans head I deempt the pure man had gangand lang to lawe And sae was thrust out of dores dingand ane to be abuife him , offer to fling and ding and downe the poore puscatt , but she meawed ●sse tongue , what are you ? That like a blind asse stand still , and cannot tell us so . s●●eping bloudy Tygre into th' net And waking then or sleeping kill him . lze slay upon me , Ise near cum back agen , but Ize bring you where yee shall see that Lowne beseekand fra mourning wha sall the refayne ? I thee beseek and for him dy'd on tree , Come not nere