Fawdon would not speak nor stir,
Speak as any might;
Scorn'd or sooth'd, he sat and lour'd
As though in angry spite.
Wallace drew a little back,
And waved his men apart;
And Fawdon half leap'd up, and cried,
"Thou wilt not have the heart!"
Wallace with his dreadful sword,
Without further speech,
Clean cut off dark Fawdon's head,
Through its stifled screech:
Through its stifled screech, and through
The arm that fenc'd his brow;
And Fawdon, as he leap'd, fell dead,
And safe is Wallace now.
Safe is Wallace with his men,
And silent is the hound;
And on their way to Castle Gask
They quit the sullen ground.
PART THE SECOND.
Wallace lies in Castle Gask,
Resting with his men;
Not a soul has come, three days,
Within the warder's ken.
Resting with his men is Wallace,
Yet he fareth ill
There are tumults in his blood,
And pangs upon his will.
It was night, and all were housed,
Talking long and late;
Who is this that blows the horn
At the castle-gate?
Who is this that blows a horn
Which none but Wallace hears?
Loud and louder grows the blast
In his frenzied ears.