About this time he was joined by Sir William Douglas at the head of all his vassals. A series of brilliant successes followed the union of their little armies: and such was the effect produced on the public mind, that when their united strength broke in upon the West of Scotland, they were joined by some of the most powerful of the Scottish nobles, among whom we find the Steward of Scotland, Sir Andrew Moray of Bothwell, his brother, and Wishart, Bishop of Glasgow. Such is the outset of Wallace’s career, so far as it is matter of authentic history. His biographer, Blind Harry, carries him through a great number of adventures before this period; but they possess so little of interest or poetical merit, and are written in such antiquated language, that the reader would probably derive little pleasure from them. They consist chiefly of rencontres with the English soldiery; enterprising attacks upon the strongholds scattered throughout Scotland, and the various events of a desultory and almost predatory warfare, in all which his knightly prowess and sagacity are represented as compensating for inferiority in numbers, and as extricating his followers and himself even in the extremity of danger. The following specimens will probably be sufficient. The first relates to the surprisal of Dunbarton Castle. Wallace, entering the town, found the captain and part of his garrison drinking, and bragging of what they would do if the rebel leader and his men were within reach. When Wallace heard the Southron made sic din, He garred all bide, and him alane went in; The lave[46] remained, to hear of their tithans,[47] He saluit them with sturdy countenance. “Fellows,” he said, “sen I come last fra hame In travail I was our land, and uncouth fame. Fra south Ireland I come in this countree, The new conquest of Scotland for to see. Part of your drink, or some good would I have.” The captain then a shrewish answer him gave; “Thou seemest a Scot unlikely, us to spy; Thou may be ane of Wallace company. Contrar our king he is risen again, The land of Fife he has rademyt in playne.[48] Thou sall here bide, while we wit how it be; Be thou of his, thou sall be hanged on high.” Wallace then thought it was no time to stand, His noble sword he grippit soon in hand; Athwart his face drew that captain in tene,[49] Strake all away that stood abowne his eyne; Ane othir braithly in the breast he bare, Baith brawn and bayn,[50] the burly blade through share; The lave rushed up to Wallace in great ire; The third he felled full fiercely in the fire. Stenyn of Ireland and Kerle, in that thrang, Kepyt na cherge, but entred them amang; And othir more that to the door can press: While they saw him, there could no man them cess,[51] The Southron men full soon were brought to dead.