But the die is cast; Scotland is lost forever; and by your attempting
to assist your friend in this rash essay to recover it, you will only
lose yourself also, without preserving him. The project is wild and
needless. What would you have? Now that the contention between the
two kings is past; now that Baliol has surrendered his crown to Edward,
is not Scotland at peace?"
"A bloody peace, Joanna," answered the earl; "witness these wounds. A
usurper's peace is more destructive than his open hostilities; plunder
and assassination are its concomitants. I have now seen and felt
enough of Edward's jurisdiction. It is time I should awake, and, like
Wallace, determine to die for Scotland, or avenge her."
Lady Mar wept. "Cruel Donald! is this the reward of all my love and
duty? You tear yourself from me, you consign your estates to
sequestration, you rob your children of their name; nay, by your
infectious example, you stimulate our brother Bothwell's son to head
the band that is to join this madman, Wallace!"
"Hold, Joanna!" cried the earl; "what is it I hear? You call the hero
who, in saving your husband's life, reduced himself to these cruel
extremities, a madman! Was he made because he prevented the Countess
of Mar from being a widow? Was he made because he prevented her
children from being fatherless?"
The countess, overcome by this cutting reproach, threw herself upon her
husband's neck.
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