Dunbar

I do not like the feature of this war, That in the shadow of my mind appears Too like the sun that rose on fatal Duplin, A day to be deplored in Scottish annals. This puppet Baliol is too well supported By that baronial faction, that do serve The side that suits their purpose. Honesty, Alas! has been too long estranged from Scotland. Am I not blamed for serving England too? Why not?—The dazzling gewgaw of a crown Seem’d once within my grasp; my claim as good As Bruce and Cumyn; ay, and many more. Was not my father’s grandam sister-in-law To Henry Fourth of England? was not Bruce My father’s cousin? Now for once I strive To emulate the soul of glorious Randolph, And serve my country with a duteous love: Edward is in my debt! Did he not hire The monk, that, like another Saxon Coppa, Administer’d medicine in the shape of drugs To the regent, Thomas Randolph, my wife’s brother, Who yielded his dear life through this assassin, When Scotland needed most his gracious aid; I shall requite the king; but, hark! who comes? Enter KEITH and SETON. Sir knights, so soon returned?