SCENE IV.--A Cave in the Wood of Drome, with a fire at the back. Bruce,

Edward, Nigel Bruce, Douglas, Crombe, Isabella, Countess of Buchan, Lady Douglas, and others.

Bruce. Who would build palaces when homes like these Our kingdom yields us bosomed in her hills! What tapestry, where the gloss and colour fade From some love-story, overtold and stale, Or where a famed old battle stagnates dim, Befits a room before these unhewn walls Whose shifting pictures lower and shine and live, Ruddy and dark in leaping of the fire. No homely mice in cupboards cheep; the night Is here not soothed by any mellow chirp Of crickets, happily, devoutly busy; But in the ivy and the hollow oak The owl has heard and learnt through day-long dreams The wind's high note when pines in ranks are blown, Bent, rent, and scattered with their roots in air, And sounds his echo loud and dwindling long, Fearfully as he flutters past our door; The wild-cat screams far off in the pheasant's nest; The wehrwolf, ravening in the warren, growls. Night is no gossip here, watching the world Sick-tired, heart-sore, sleep weariness away; But free and noble, full of fantasy, Queen of the earth, earth-bound, ethereal. Isabella [aside]. His spirit rises. We must hold it up.-- My lord, shall Lady Douglas sing? Bruce. She shall. Lady, I beg you sing us something sweet. No trumpet notes, no war---- [1st Soldier appears at the entrance of the Cave. Douglas whispers with him. What does he want? Douglas. He comes as spokesman for his fellows. Bruce. Well? 1st Soldier [advancing]. I hope your Highness will be patient with me. My mates have bade me ask a favour, strange And difficult to ask; but not so strange If it be thought of well, nor difficult If I can keep my head. Bruce. Go on. 1st Soldier. My lord, For this great while we have seen no woman's face, My mates and I: your Highness knows that well. When we beheld these ladies enter here, A longing seized us all to look on them; To see their faces and their gentle shapes; And even to have them turn their eyes on us; Perhaps to hear them speak. We are true men, And honest in our thought. Bruce. Bring them all in. [Exit 1st Soldier. Countess of Buchan. I know the mood that holds these men: brave lads! If they were wed to women worth their love, They would be nobler heroes than they are. Isabella. We'll speak to them. Countess of Buchan. I'll kiss that knave who spoke. Lady Douglas. Will you? Countess of Buchan. Yes; and I'll do it openly.

Enter Soldiers.

Bruce. Welcome all, heartily, most heartily. Countess of Buchan [to 1st Soldier]. Have you a wife? 1st Soldier. I have. Countess of Buchan. You love her? 1st Soldier. Yes. Countess of Buchan. Is not the truest love the most capricious? 1st Soldier. I cannot tell. True love is fanciful. Countess of Buchan. You long to kiss your wife? 1st Soldier. And if I do, What matters to your ladyship? Countess of Buchan [whispering] This, sir: I also long to kiss one whom I love; Perhaps I never shall; but I think now In kissing you that I am kissing him. [Kisses him. 1st Soldier. Thanks, noble lady. If you were my wife I'd kiss you thus. [He embraces and kisses her. Bruce. Well said and bravely done! Countess of Buchan. And can you fight As deftly as you kiss? Bruce. I warrant him! Your song, my Lady Douglas; sing it now; A love-song, something homely if you can. Douglas. Sing "If she love me," sweetheart. Lady Douglas. Shall I? Well. But you should sing it rather. Douglas. No; sing you.

SONG. Love, though tempests be unruly, Blooms as when the weather's fair: If she love me truly, truly, She will love me in despair.

Is there aught endures here longer? Can true love end ever wrongly? Death will make her love grow stronger, If she love me strongly, strongly.

Can scorn conquer love? Can shame? Though the meanest tower above me, She will share my evil fame, If she love me, if she love me.

Enter a Forester.

Forester. A thousand men are on you, fly! [Going. Bruce. Stand, there! Hold him! What thousand men? who lead them? speak.-- Put out the fire--stamp on it, some of you. [The fire is trampled out and the Forester seized. Forester. I know not; but I saw them in the wood Stealthily marching. Bruce. Are they near? Forester. An hour By time, for they are stumbling out a way. There's half a mile or so of wood between. If I had been their guide they had been here. Bruce. You know the paths so thoroughly? Forester. Blindfold. Bruce. Could you lead safely to Kildrummie Castle A band of twenty? Forester. When? to-night? Bruce. Just now. Forester. I think I could. But tell me, sir: they say That you're the king. Now are you? Bruce. I am he. Forester [awkwardly]. What must I do? Bruce. Wait patiently.--Good friends, We'll yet postpone farewell. A little way Together in the wood---- Edward Bruce. But must we fly? Ten are a thousand in a coward's sight; And they may be our friends. Defence even here Were not too rash against a hundred. What! Is not despair achievement's mother? Why! The high, black night, a shout, a sudden charge, And we dispel this sheep-heart's fearful dream. Bruce. Upon us march the Earls of Fife and Buchan, With many hundred men. They have hunted us For days, and I have known. My spies are caught I fear, or they had not arrived so close Without our knowledge. [To Forester.] We must thank you, friend, For timely information of our plight. The plan I formed still holds, and this is it. Kildrummie will give shelter to our wives; Nigel will take them there: Douglas, one way, And I, another, as we may decide, Splits up the scent,--and we shall all escape. Edward Bruce. Brother and king---- Bruce. No more. In straits like these Counsel's a Siren: if the leader list, Wreck follows. Errant paths, straightly pursued, Soon reach the goal; while wiser, well-thought ways Wander about for fear of miry shoes. And shall I hear one rasher than myself, When wisdom would be folly!--Isabella, A little way together, then farewell.-- [To Forester. Friend, go before us.--Follow close. No word Above a whisper. Isabella. Must I leave you then? Why are we made so that we trust our hopes! [All go out.