1822.J 
King Edward. 
’Tis Alan Swinton ! 
Grim chamberlain, who in my tent at Weardale 
Stood by my startled couch, with torch and mace, 
When the black Douglas’ war-cry wak’d my camp. 
Gordon (sinking down.) 
If thus thou know’st him, 
Thou wilt respect his corpse. 
King Edward. ¢ 
As belted knight and crowned king, I will. 
Gordon. 
And let mine 
Sleep at his side, in token that our death 
Ended the feud of Swinton and of Gordon. 
With an invective against the traitor 
Baliol, who has entered in the train of 
the conqueror, Gordon also yields up 
his gallant spirit. The Templar is 
made prisoner, and received into fa- 
vour; and, with a congratulatory com- 
pliment from the Abbot of Waltham- 
stow, who is bound to sing Te Deum 
on the occasion, the piece concludes. 
In his prefatory remarks, Sir Walter 
has assigned, as one of his reasons for 
transferring the scene of battle from 
Homildon to Halidon-Hill, his reluc- 
tance to attempt any delineation of 
the Hotspur Percy, after the fiery and 
living image raised by the magic of 
Shakespeare. But should he seriously 
pursue the dramatic path on which he 
has ventured, what passion can he 
touch, or what character can he unfold, 
which has not been in some manner or 
to some degree pre-occupied by the 
all-embracing genius of his master. 
Who can fail, for instance, in the pre- 
sent sketch, to perceive the strong 
affinity between the Swinton of Sir 
Walter and the brave old Talbot of 
Henry the Sixth?—in achievements, 
in conduct, in age, and in fate, the 
same? There is, indeed, a curious 
coincidence in feeling and in circum- 
stance, between the most striking 
part of Halidon-Hill, and the latter 
scenes of the first part of Henry the 
Sixth. In both we find a treacherous 
Regent, a venerable chief and his young 
comrade, in both overpowered by une- 
qual force, and in both the same vain 
entreaty of the elder, to induce hiscom- 
anion to save his life by flight. The 
atter incident is, indeed, slightly 
touched upon by Scott, compared with 
the beautiful manner in which it is 
worked up in the contention of the 
Talbots, which, with all its quaintness, 
is to us ever new and moving, and 
which, as a parallel to a passage in our 
quotations, we here partly transcribe. 
Talbot. 
© young John Talbot, I did send for thee, 
To tutor thee in stratagems of war; 
hat Talbot’s name aiabt be in thee reviv'd, 
hen sapless age, and weak unable limbs, 
Should bring thy father to his drooping chair; 
But, O malignant and ill-boding stars ! 
News from Parnassus, No. XLX. 27 
Now art thou come unto a feast of death; 
A terrible and-unavoided danger; ; 
Therefore, dear boy, mount on ay swiftest horse, 
And Ill direct thee how thou shalt escape 
By sudden flight : comme, dally not, begone. 
John Tathot. 3 
Is my name Talbot? and am I your son? 
And shalll fly? * *— 
The world will say, He is not Talbot’s blood 
That basely fled, when noble Talbot stood. 
Talbot. 
Fly to revenge my death, if 1 be slain. 
John. 
He that flies so, will ne’er return again. 
Talbot. 
If we both stay, we both are sure to die, 
John. 
Then let me stay, and, father, do you fly, 
‘albot. 
Upon my blessing, | command thee go, 
John. 
To fight 1 will, but not to fly the foe, 
Talbot. 
Part of thy father may be saved in thee. 
John. 
No part of him but would be shame in me. 
Talbot. 
Thou never had’st renown, and can’st not lose it. 
John, 
Yes; your renowned name. Shall flight abuse it ? 
¢ Tatbot. 
Thy father’s charge shall clear thee from that staio. 
Onn. 
You cannot witness for me, being slain, 
If death be so apparent, then both fly. 
Talbot 
And leave my followers here to figlit and die ? 
My age was never Jee such shame. 
JOAN. 
And shall ray youth be guilty of such blame ? 
No more can I be sever’d from your side, 
Than-can yourself yourself in twain divide: 
Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I, 
For live | will not, if my father die, 
Talbot. 
Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son. 
The extent of the extracts we have 
made will enable our readers to judge 
for themselves of the merits of Sir 
Walter’s style as a dramatist. ‘To us 
they appear. to be of a very superior 
order, combining ease with force, and 
great depth of passion with a highly 
poetical diction. The development 
of his plot, and the conduct of his 
story through the intricacies of a re- 
gular play, seem to us the points in 
which his success would be mos 
problematical. : 
We would submit it, in conclusion, 
to the elaborate judgment of Sir 
Walter, as an antiquarian, whether 
he has not fallen into a chronological 
error when he produces a Knight 
Templar in the reign of Edward the 
Third, although all the societies of 
their order had been suppressed in 
England early in the reign of that mo- 
narch’s father. 
—— 
To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine. 
SIR, 
T was with pleasure I read the 
communication of your corres- 
pondent J.C. relative to the natural 
history of the gooseberry caterpillar, 
in your mstructive Miscellany of June 
last. It is nota little surprising that 
entomologists 
