"
"These dreams," cried De Valence, "cannot terrify me. You are neither
a seer, nor I a fool, to be taken by such prophecies. But were you
wise enough to embrace the advantage I offer, you might be a prophet of
good, greater than he of Ercildown, to your nation; for all that you
could promise, I would take care should be fulfilled. But you cast
from you your peace and safety; my vengeance shall therefore take its
course. I rely not on oracles of heaven or hell; but I have pronounced
the doom of my enemies; and though you now see me a prisoner, tremble,
haughty Scot, at the resentment which lies in this head and heart.
This arm perhaps needs not the armies of Edward to pierce you in your
boast!"
He left the room as he spoke; and Lord Mar, shaking his venerable head
as he disappeared, said to himself: "Impotent rage of passion and of
youth, I pity and forgive you."
It was not, therefore, so extraordinary that De Valence, when he saw
Wallace descending the Ochil hills with the flying banners of new
victories, should break into curses of his fortune, and swear inwardly
the most determined revenge.
Fuel was added to this fire at sunset, when the almost measureless
defiles of prisoners, marshaled before the ramparts of Stirling, and
taking the usual oath to Wallace, met his view.
Pages:
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584