"
"Because it was inconsiderate," replied Wallace. "Inhumanity is too
stern a guest to live in such a breast as yours."
"If I ever give her quarters," replied Murray, "I should most wofully
disgrace the companion she must meet there. Next to the honor of fair
Scotland, my cousin Helen is the goddess of my idolatry; and she would
forswear my love and kindred, could she believe me capable of feeling
otherwise than in unison with Sir William Wallace."
Wallace looked toward him with a benign pleasure in his countenance.
"Your fair cousin does me honor."
"Ah! my noble friend," cried Murray, lowering his gay tone to one of
softer expression; "if you knew all the goodness, all the nobleness
that dwells in her gentle heart, you would indeed esteem her-you would
love her as I do."
The blood fled from the cheek of Wallace. "Not as you do, Murray; I
can no more love a woman as you love her. Such scenes as these," cried
he, turning to the mangled bodies which the men were now carrying away
to the precipice of the Clyde, "have divorced woman's love from my
heart. I am all my country's, or I am nothing."
"Nothing!" reiterated Murray, laying his hand upon that of Wallace, as
it rested upon the hilt of the sword on which he leaned.
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