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After his tedious journey, as befits A way-tired stranger. (Exeunt, all but Argyll and Sir Hubert.) This doth all hope and all belief exceed. Maclean will shortly follow this his notice, (Giving Sir Hubert the letter.) To make me here a visit of condolence; And thus within our power they put themselves With most assured blindness.

'Tis Lochtarish, In all the arts of dark hypocrisy So deeply skill'd, who doth o'ershoot his mark, As such full often do.

And let him come! At his own arts we trust to match him well.— Their force, I guess, is not in readiness, Therefore, meantime, to stifle all suspicion, This specious mummery he hath devised; And his most wretched chief, led by his will, Most wretchedly submits.—Well, let us go And tell to Lorne the news, lest too unguardedly He should receive it.(Exeunt.)