The Scottish Chiefs
Chapter LXXXIII.
The State Dungeon.
Though all the furies of the elements seemed let loose to rage aroundthe walls of the dungeon, still Wallace slept in the loud uproar. Calmwas within, and the warfare of the world could not disturb the balmyrest into which the angel of peace had steeped his senses. From thisprofound repose he was awakened by the entrance of Gloucester. Helenhad just sunk into a slight slumber; but the first words of the earlaroused her, and rising, she followed her beloved Wallace to his side.
Gloucester put a scroll into the hand of Wallace: "Sign that," said he,"and you are free. I know not its contents; but the king commissionedme, as a mark of his grace, to be the messenger of your release."
Wallace read the conditions, and the color deepened on his cheek as hiseye met each article. "He was to reveal the asylum of Bruce, toforswear Scotland forever, and to take an oath of allegiance to Edward,the seal of which should be the English earldom of Cleveland!" Wallaceclosed the parchment. "King Edward knows what will be my reply, I neednot speak it."
"You will accept his terms?" asked the earl.
"Not to insure me a life of ages, with all earthly bliss my portion! Ihave spoken to these offers before. Read them, my noble friend, andthen give him as mine the answer which would be yours."
Gloucester obeyed, and while his eyes were bent on the parchment, thoseof Helen were fixed on her almost worshiped husband, she looked throughhis beaming countenance into his very soul, and there saw the sublimepurpose that consigned his unbending head to the scaffold. WhenGloucester had finished, covered with the burning blush of shame, hecrushed the disgraceful scroll in his hand, and exclaimed, withhonorable vehemence, against the deep duplicity, the deeper cruelty, ofhis father-in-law, so to mock by base subterfuges the embassy of Franceand its noble object.
"This is the morning in which I was to have met my fate!" repliedWallace. "Tell this tyrant of the earth that I am even now ready toreceive the last stroke of his injustice. In the peaceful grave, myHelen," added he, turning to her, who sat pale and aghast, "I shall bebeyond his power!"
Gloucester walked the room in great disturbance of mind, while Wallacecontinued, in a lowered tone, to recall some perception of his ownconsolations to the abstracted and soul-struck Helen.
The earl stopped suddenly before them: "That the king did not expectyour acquiescence without some hesitation, I cannot doubt, for when Iinformed him the Lady Helen Mar, now your wife, was the sharer of yourprison, he started, and told me that should you still oppose yourselfto his conditions, I must bring her to him; who might, perhaps, be themeans of persuading you to receive his mercy."
"Never!" replied Wallace; "I reject what he calls mercy. He has norights of judgment over me, and his pretended mercy is an assumptionwhich, as a true Scot, I despise. He may rifle me of my life, but heshall never beguile me into any acknowledgment of an authority that isfalse. No wife, nor aught of mine, shall ever stand before him as asuppliant for William Wallace. I will die as I have lived, the equalof Edward in all things but a crown, and his superior in being true tothe glory of prince or peasant--unblemished honor!"
Finding the Scottish chief not to be shaken in this determination,Gloucester, humbled to the soul by the base tyranny of his royalfather-in-law, soon after withdrew, to acquaint that haughty monarchwith the ill success of his embassy. But ere noon had turned, hereappeared, with a countenance declarative of some distressing errand.He found Helen awakened to the full perception of all her pendingevils--that she was on the eve of losing forever the object dearest toher in this world! and though she wept not, though she listened to thelord of all her wishes with smiles of holy approval, her heart bledwithin; and, with a welcome which enforced his consolatory arguments,she hailed her own inwardly foreboding mortal pains.
"I come," said Gloucester, "not to urge you to send Lady Helen as asuitor to King Edward, but to spare her the misery of being separatedfrom you while life is yours." He then said that the Frenchembassadors were kept in ignorance of the conditions which were offeredto the object of their mission; and on being informed that he hadrefused them, they showed themselves so little satisfied with thesincerity of what had been done, that Edward thought it expedient toconciliate Philip by taking some pains to dislodge their suspicions.To this effect he proposed to the French lords sending his finalpropositions to Sir William Wallace by that chieftain's wife, who hefound was then his companion in the Tower. "On my intimating,"continued the earl, "that I feared she would be unable to appear beforehim, his answer was, 'Let her see to that; such a refusal shall beanswered by an immediate separation from her husband.'"
"Let me in this demand," cried she, turning with collected firmness toWallace, "satisfy the will of Edward. It is only to purchase mycontinuance with you. Trust me, noblest of men; I should be unworthyof the name you have given me could I sully it in my person by onedebasing word or action to the author of all our ills!"
"Ah! my Helen," replied he, "what is it you ask? Am I to live to see arepetition of the horrors of Ellerslie?"
"No, on my life," answered Glouceseter; "in this instance I wouldpledge my soul for King Edward's manhood. His ambition might lead himto trample on all men; but still for woman he feels as becomes a manand a knight."
Helen renewed her supplications; and Wallace (aware that should hewithhold her attendance, his implacable adversary, however he mightspare her personal injury, would not forbear wounding her to the soulby tearing her from him) gave an unwilling consent to what might seem asubmission on his part to an authority he had shed his blood to oppose.
Helen renewed her supplications; and Wallace (aware that should hewithhold her attendance, his implacable adversary, however he mightspare her personal injury, would not forbear wounding her to the soulby tearing her from him) gave an unwilling consent to what might seem asubmission on his part to an authority he had shed his blood to oppose.
"But not in these garments," said he; "she must be habited as becomesher sex and her own delicacy."
Anticipating this propriety, Gloucester had imparted the circumstanceto his countess, and she had sent a casket, which the earl himself nowbrought in from the passage. Helen retired to the inner cell, andhastily arranging herself in the first suit that presented itself,reappeared in female apparel, and wrapped in a long veil. AsGloucester took her hand to lead her forth, Wallace clasped the otherin his.
"Remember, my Helen," cried he, "that on no terms but untrammeledfreedom of soul, will your Wallace accept of life. This will not begranted by the man to whom you go; then speak and act in his presenceas if I were already beyond the skies."
Had this faithful friend, now his almost adoring wife, left his sidewith more sanguine hopes, how grievously would they have been blasted!
After an absence of two hours, she returned to the dungeon of Wallace:and as her trembling form was clasped in his arms, she exclaimed, in apassion of tears:
"Here will I live, here will I die! They may sever my soul from mybody, but never again part me from this dear bosom!"
"Never, never, my Helen!" said he, reading her conference with the kingin the wild terror of its effects. Her senses seemed fearfullydisordered. While she clung to him, and muttered sentences of anincoherency that shook him to the soul, he cast a look of suchexpressive inquiry upon Gloucester, that the earl could only answer byhastily putting his hand on his face to hide his emotion. At last thetears she shed appeared to relieve the excess of her agonies, and shegradually sunk into an awful calm. Then rising from her husband'sarms, she seated herself on his stony couch, and said in a firm voice,"Earl, I can now bear to hear you repeat the last decision of the Kingof England."
Though not absolutely present at the interview between his sovereignand Lady Helen, from the anteroom Gloucester had heard all that passed,and now he briefly confessed to Wallace, that he had too trulyappreciated the pretended conciliation of the king. Edward's proposalsto Helen were as artfully couched as deceptive in their d
esign. Theirissue was to make Wallace his slave, or to hold him his victim. In hisconference with her, he addressed the vanity of an ambitious woman;then, all the affections of a devoted heart: he enforced his argumentswith persuasions to allure, and threats to compel obedience. In thelast he called up every image to appall the soul of Helen; but,steadfast in the principles of her lord, while ready to sink under themenaced horrors of his fate, she summoned all her strength to giveutterance to her last reply.
"Mortal distinctions, King of England!" cried she, "cannot bribe thewife of Sir William Wallace to betray his virtues. His life is dear tome, but his immaculate faith to his God and his lawful prince aredearer. I can see him die and live--for I shall join him triumphant inHeaven; but to behold him dishonor himself, to counsel him so to do, isbeyond my power--I should expire with grief in the shameful moment!"
The indignation of the king at this answer was too oppressive of thetender nature of Lady Wallace for Gloucester to venture repeating it toher husband; and, while she turned deathly pale at the recollection,Wallace, exulting in her conduct, pressed her hand silently butfervently to his lips.
The earl resumed, but, observing the reawakened agonies of her mind inher too expressive countenance, he strove to soften the blow he mustinflict in the remainder of his narrative.
"Dearest lady," said he, rather addressing her than Wallace, "toconvince your suffering spirit that no earthly means have been leftunessayed to change the unjust purpose of the king, know that when hequitted you I left in his presence the queen and my wife, both weepingtears of disappointment. On the moment when I found that argumentscould no longer avail, I implored him, by every consideration of Godand man, to redeem his honor, sacrificed by the unjust decreepronounced on Sir William Wallace. My entreaties were repulsed withanger, for the sudden entrance of Lord Athol with fresh fuel to hisflame, so confirmed his direful resolution that, desperate for myfriend, I threw myself on my knees. The queen, and then my wife, bothprostrate at his feet, enforced my suit, but all in vain; his heartseemed hardened by our earnestness; and his answer, while it put us tosilence, granted Wallace a triumph even in his dungeon.
"Cease!" cried the king, "Wallace and I have now come to that issuewhere one must fall. I shall use my advantage, though I should walkover the necks of half my kindred to accomplish his fate. I can findno security on my throne, no peace in my bed, until I know that he, mydirest enemy, is no more."
"Sorry am I, generous Gloucester," interrupted Wallace, "that for mylife, you have stooped your knee to one so unworthy of your nobleness.Let, then, his tyranny take its course. But its shaft will not reachthe soul his unkingly spirit hopes to wound. The bitterness of deathwas passed when I quitted Scotland. And for this body, he may dishonorit, mangle its limbs, but William Wallace may then be far beyond hisreach."
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 toself violence?"
"God forbid!" returned Wallace; "suspect me not of such base vassalageto this poor tabernacle of clay. Did I believe it my Father's willthat I should die at every pore I would submit, for so his immaculateSon laid down his life for a rebellious world. And is a servantgreater 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 neckfeel its degrading touch."
His pale cheek was now luminous with a bright smile as he pressed hisswelling heart.
With reawakened horror Helen listened to the words of Wallace, whichreferred to the last outrage to be committed on his sacred remains.She recalled the corresponding threats of the king, and again losingself-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 blissto gaze, "let the sacrifice of my life be offered to this cruel king tosave from indignity--"
She could add no more, but dropped half lifeless on the arm of Wallace.
Gloucester understood the object of such anguished solicitude, andwhile Wallace again seated her, he revived her by a protestation, thatthe clause she so fearfully deprecated, had been repealed by Edward.But the good earl blushed as he spoke, for in this instance he saidwhat was not the truth. Far different had been the issue of all hisattempts at mitigation. The arrival of Athol from Scotland withadvices from the Countess of Strathearn, that Lady Helen Mar had fledsouthward to raise an insurrection in favor of Wallace, and that LordBothwell had gone to France to move Philip to embrace the same cause,gave Edward so apt an excuse for giving full way to his hatred againstthe Scottish chief, that he pronounced an order for the immediate andunrestricted execution of his sentence. Artifice to mislead the Frenchembassadors with an idea that he was desirous to accord with theirroyal master's wish, had been the sole foundation of his proposals toWallace. And his interview with Lady Helen, though so intemperatelyconducted, was dictated by the same subtle policy.
When Gloucester found the impossibility of obtaining any furtherrespite from the murderous decree, he attempted to prevail for theremission of the last clause, which ordered that his friend's noblebody should be dismembered, and his limbs sent, as terrors torebellion, to the four capital fortresses of Scotland. Edward spurnedat this petition with even more acrimony than he had done the prayerfor his victim's life, and Gloucester then starting from his knee, in aburst of honest indignation exclaimed, "Oh! king, remember what is doneby thee this day. Refusing to give righteous judgment in favor of onewho prefers virtue to a crown and life! As insincere, as secret, havebeen your last conditions with him, but they will be revealed when thegreat Judge that searcheth all men's hearts shall cause thee to answerfor this matter at the dreadful day of universal doom. Thou has nowgiven sentence on a patriot and a prince, and then shall judgment begiven on thee!"
"Dangerous indeed is his rebellious spirit," cried Edward, in almostspeechless wrath, "since it affects even the duty of my own house!Gloucester, leave my presence, and on pain of your own death, dare notapproach me till I send for you, to see this rebel's head on LondonBridge!"
To disappoint the revengeful monarch of at least this object of hismalice, Gloucester was now resolved, and imparting his wishes to thewarden of the Tower, who was his trusty friend, he laid a planaccordingly.
Helen had believed his declaration to her, and bowed her head in signthat she was satisfied with his zeal. The earl, addressing Wallace,continued: "Could I have purchased thy life, thou preserver of mine,with the forfeiture of all I possess I should have rejoiced in theexchange. But as that may not be, is there aught in the world which Ican do to administer to thy wishes?"
"Generous Gloucester!" exclaimed Wallace, "how unwearied has been yourfriendship! But I shall not tax it much further. I was writing mylast wishes when this angel entered my apartment; she will now be thevoice of William Wallace to his friends. But still I must make onerequest to you--one which I trust will not be out of your power. Letthis heart, ever faithful to Scotland, be at least buried in its nativecountry. When I cease to breathe, give it to Helen, and she willmingle it with the sacred dust of those I love. For herself, dearGloucester! ah! guard the vestal purity and life of my best beloved!for there are those who, when I am gone, may threaten both."
Gloucester, who knew that in this apprehension Wallace meant the LordsSoulis and De Valence, pledged himself for the performance of his firstrequest; and for the second, he assured him he would protect Helen as asister. But she, regardless of all other evils than that of beingsevered from her dearest and best friend, exclaimed in bitter sorrow:
"Wherever I am, still and forever shall all of Wallace that remains onearth be with me. He gave himself to me, and no mortal power shalldivide us!"
Gloucester could not reply before the voice of the warden, calling tohim that the hour of shutting the gat
es was arrived, compelled him tobid his friend farewell. He grasped the hand of Wallace with a strongemotion, for he knew that the next time he should meet him would be onthe scaffold. During the moments of his parting, Helen, with her handsclasped on her knees, and her eyes bent downward, inwardly andearnestly invoked the Almighty to endow her with fortitude to bear thehorrors she was to witness, that she might not, by her agonies, add tothe tortures of Wallace.
The cheering voice, that was ever music to her ears, recalled her fromthis devout abstraction. He laid his hand on hers, and gazing on herwith a tender pity, held such sweet discourse with her on theapproaching end of all his troubles, of his everlasting happiness,where "all tears are dried away!" that she listened, and wept, and evensmiled.
"Yes," added he, "a little while, and my virgin bride shall give me herdear embrace in heaven; angels will participate our joy, and myMarion's grateful spirit join the blest communion! She died topreserve my life; you suffered a living death to maintain my honor!Can I then divide ye, noblest of created beings, in my soul! Take,then, my heart's kiss, dear Helen, thy Wallace's last earthly kiss!"
She bent toward him, and fixed her lips to his. It was the first timethey had met; his parting words still hung on them, and an icy cold ranthrough all her veins. She felt his heart beat heavily against hers,as he said:
"I have not many hours to be with thee, and yet a strange lethargyoverpowers my senses; but I shall speak to thee again!"
He looked on her as he spoke, with such a glance of holy love, that notdoubting he was now bidding her, indeed, his last farewell, that he wasto pass from this sleep out of the power of man, she pressed his handwithout a word, and as he dropped his head back upon his straw pillow,with an awed spirit she saw him sink to profound repose.