Scrymgeour, Ruthven, Lockhart, and Ker rushed before their
friend. Edwin, starting forward, drew his sword, and the clash of
steel was heard. Bothwell and Soulis grappled together, the falchion
of Ruthven gleamed amidst a hundred swords, and blood flowed around.
The voice, the arm of Wallace, in vain sought to enforce peace; he was
not heard, he was not felt in the dreadful warfare; Ker fell with a
gasp at his feet, and breathed no more. At such a sight the
soul-struck Wallace wrung his hands, and exclaimed in bitter anguish,
"Oh, my country! was it for these horrors that my Marion died? that I
became a homeless wretch, and passed my days and nights in fields of
carnage? Venerable Mar, dear and valiant Graham! is this the
consummation for which you fell?" At that moment Bothwell having
disabled Soulis, would have blown his bugle to call up his men to a
general conflict, but Wallace snatched the horn from his hand, and
springing upon the very war-carriage which Le de Spencer had proclaimed
Edward's embassy, he drew forth his sword, and stretching the mighty
arm that held it over the throng, with more than mortal energy he
exclaimed, "Peace! men of Scotland, and for the last time hear the
voice of William Wallace.
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