Forester. A thousand men are on you, fly! [Going. Bruce. Stand, there! Hold him! What thousand men? who lead them? speak.-- Put out the fire--stamp on it, some of you. [The fire is trampled out and the Forester seized. Forester. I know not; but I saw them in the wood Stealthily marching. Bruce. Are they near? Forester. An hour By time, for they are stumbling out a way. There's half a mile or so of wood between. If I had been their guide they had been here. Bruce. You know the paths so thoroughly? Forester. Blindfold. Bruce. Could you lead safely to Kildrummie Castle A band of twenty? Forester. When? to-night? Bruce. Just now. Forester. I think I could. But tell me, sir: they say That you're the king. Now are you? Bruce. I am he. Forester [awkwardly]. What must I do? Bruce. Wait patiently.--Good friends, We'll yet postpone farewell. A little way Together in the wood---- Edward Bruce. But must we fly? Ten are a thousand in a coward's sight; And they may be our friends. Defence even here Were not too rash against a hundred. What! Is not despair achievement's mother? Why! The high, black night, a shout, a sudden charge, And we dispel this sheep-heart's fearful dream. Bruce. Upon us march the Earls of Fife and Buchan, With many hundred men. They have hunted us For days, and I have known. My spies are caught I fear, or they had not arrived so close Without our knowledge. [To Forester.] We must thank you, friend, For timely information of our plight. The plan I formed still holds, and this is it. Kildrummie will give shelter to our wives; Nigel will take them there: Douglas, one way, And I, another, as we may decide, Splits up the scent,--and we shall all escape. Edward Bruce. Brother and king---- Bruce. No more. In straits like these Counsel's a Siren: if the leader list, Wreck follows. Errant paths, straightly pursued, Soon reach the goal; while wiser, well-thought ways Wander about for fear of miry shoes. And shall I hear one rasher than myself, When wisdom would be folly!--Isabella, A little way together, then farewell.-- [To Forester. Friend, go before us.--Follow close. No word Above a whisper. Isabella. Must I leave you then? Why are we made so that we trust our hopes! [All go out. ACT V SCENE I.--A passage in Berwick Castle. Enter Crombe as jailor, carrying food. He opens a door, and the Countess of Buchan is discovered in a cage.