_The Flemings’ Tower._

_Enter a_ STORMING PARTY.

CAPTAIN.

Heavens! these brave fellows, in that lofty tower Have entrench’d themselves admirably.

LIEUTENANT.

These are Flemings, Merchants of Flanders, tenants of the tower; Here must be gold in store!

CAPTAIN.

We might as well Besiege the heav’ns, as seek by physical force To conquer these. We must make bees of them For their rich honey-combs, and smoke them out.

LIEUTENANT.

Even so; but first we speak them a fair chance.— Ho! in the name of England’s king surrender! Open your gates; so shall your lives be spared, Your goods protected!

A FLEMING.

We have proved you well: Too well, alas! to take you at your word: Here, loyal subjects of King David Bruce, We do defend this tower—with it ourselves; While blood is in our veins, heads on our shoulders, Strength in our arms, we do defy you here.

CAPTAIN.

Then we shall roast you out, ye churlish knaves; Even as ye would the bear upon your pennon, Were he eatable!

A FLEMING.

We do not lack provisions, Nor ammunition neither; on the moment When you apply the torch we blow this tower To heaven, and you to hell.

CAPTAIN.

Come! fire the gate, And smoke these vermin out! [_The Soldiers’ fire the Gate, while the Flanders Merchants spring a Mine, which blows up the Tower, and scatters destruction in every direction.—The Soldiers run._ Ha! there they go, Like rockets to the skies! Let’s save ourselves. [_Exeunt._

_Enter an_ OLD MAN _with his_ DAUGHTER.

OLD MAN.

Nay, leave me here, dear Anna! life is sweet To one so young as thee, but not to me, Laden with age, infirmity, disease. Leave me, and save your person and your honour; I hope the lady’s safe?

ANNA.

She is, thank Heaven! Hid in a friar’s disguise she pass’d the army; ’Twill not be well for Edward if he meets her; She wears a sharpen’d dagger in her bosom, As I do now, which I too soon may use. [_A Soldier comes up and seizes the Female, while the_ OLD MAN _grapples with him_.

SOLDIER.

Nay, greybeard, do not seek to grapple youth; As well might ivy wrestle with the oak To be thus crush’d,—down! down! [_The_ OLD MAN _is thrown_.

OLD MAN.

Oh! spare my daughter! And I forgive thee. [_Dies._

SOLDIER.

There, thou hoary rogue! Green trees will often snap before old trunks; But I have master’d thee.—Come, pretty maid! [_While he gazes on the_ OLD MAN, _she stabs him behind_.

ANNA.

There, monster! take thou that; I joy to see Thine agonies, thou murderer of my father! He wings to heav’n, while you descend to hell!

SOLDIER.

Oh! thou hast murder’d me, thou cruel maid! Hear me before I die: I am a Scot, Though drest (I blush to say’t,) in English garb. Take this last token; and, if e’er you meet With Anna Harrison give her this ring; Say ’twas bequeath’d her by a dying sister! I die, die! [_He dies._

ANNA.

My sister’s husband! damned, damned war! That thus destroys consanguinity! I never can survive this horrid deed, But bare my breast to the first spear I meet. [_Weeps over her Father’s body._ Poor, aged man! how cold and stiff art thou! [_Exit._

_Enter_ LORD MONTAGUE _with another Party_.

MONTAGUE.

Hurra! brave men! on to the citadel; The town is won, and now our task is done; The stubborn Scot at last beats the chamade, And sounds a parley.

D’ARCY.

They deserve no quarter! I would not bet a groat, that they do wear The heads they wear, even now another day. [_Exeunt._