Page:The Family Legend.pdf/151

Rh

Your health, most noble dame.

What! are we here like deer bay'd in a nook? And think ye so to slay us, crafty foe? No, by my faith! like such we will not fall, Arms in our hands, though by a thousand foes Encompass'd.—Cruel, murderous, ruthless men, Too good a warrant have you now to think us, But cowards never! Rouse ye, base Macleans! And thou, whose subtlety around us thus With wreckful skill these cursed toils have wound, Sinks thy base spirit now? (To Lochtarish.)

Be silence in the hall!