ABSTRACT
Awed, but not intimidated by the prophecy of the seer of the craigs, Wallace next day drew up his army in order for the new battle, near a convent of Cistertian monks on the narrow plain of Dalkeith. The two rivers Eske flowed on each side of his little phalanx, and formed a temporary barrier between it and the pressing legions of De Warenne. The earl's troops seemed countless. And the Southron lords who led them on, being elated by the representations which the Countess had given them of the disunited state of the Scottish army and of the consequent dismay which had seized their hitherto all-conquering commander, bore down upon the Scots with an impetuosity which threatened a destruction without quarter, without even allowing the enemy a moment for resistance. De Warenne, who, deceived by the blandishing falsehoods of his bride, had entirely changed his former high opinion of his brave opponent; and by her sophistries had brought his mind to adopt stratagems unworthy of his nobleness, (so contagious is baseness in too fond a contact with the unprincipled!) placed himself on an adjoining height; from that situation, intending to give his orders, and to behold his anticipated victory. 'Soldiers!' cried he, as he gave the word of command, 'the rebel's hour is come. - The sentence of heaven is gone forth against him. Charge resolutely, and he and his host are yours!'
