The bitterness of death
was passed when I quitted Scotland. And for this body, he may dishonor
it, mangle its limbs, but William Wallace may then be far beyond his
reach."
Gloucester gazed on him, doubting the expression of his countenance.
It was calm, but pale even to a marble hue.
"Surely," said he, "my unconquered friend will not now be forced to
self violence?"
"God forbid!" returned Wallace; "suspect me not of such base vassalage
to this poor tabernacle of clay. Did I believe it my Father's will
that I should die at every pore I would submit, for so his immaculate
Son laid down his life for a rebellious world. And is a servant
greater than his master, that I should say, Exempt me from this trial?
No! I await his summons, but he so strengthens my soul on his breast,
that the cord of Edward shall never make my free-born Scottish neck
feel its degrading touch."
His pale cheek was now luminous with a bright smile as he pressed his
swelling heart.
With reawakened horror Helen listened to the words of Wallace, which
referred to the last outrage to be committed on his sacred remains.
She recalled the corresponding threats of the king, and again losing
self-possession, starting wildly up, exclaimed:
"And is there no humanity in that ruthless man! Oh!" cried she,
tearing her eyes from the beloved form on which it had been such bliss
to gaze, "let the sacrifice of my life be offered to this cruel king to
save from indignity--"
She could add no more, but dropped half lifeless on the arm of Wallace.
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