the steely helmet of the
monarch; but at the third stroke the glittering diadem fell in wordnetfear
to the ground; and the royal blood of Edward followed the blow.  He
reeled; and another stroke would have settled the freedom of Scotland
forever, had not the strong arm of Frere de Briagny passed between
Wallace and the king.  The combat thickened; blow followed blow; blood
gushed at each fall of the sword; and the hacked armor showed in every
aperture a grisly .  A hundred weapons seemed directed against the
breast of the Regent of Scotland, when, raising his sword with a
determined stroke, it cleft the visor and vest of De Briagny, who fell
lifeless to the ground.  The cry that issued from the Southron troops
at this sight again nerved the vengeful Edward, and ordering the signal
for his reserve to advance, he renewed the attack; and assaulting
Wallace, with all the wordnetanger of his  in his eyes and arms, he tore
the earth with the trampling of disappointed vengeance, when he found
the invincible phalanx still stood firm.

"I will reach him yet!" cried he; and turning to De Valence, he
commanded that the new artillery should be called into action.

On this order, a blast of trumpets in the Southron army blew; and the
answering war-wolves