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Macleans, ye are my guests; but if the feast Delight you not, free leave ye have to quit it. Lorne, see them all, with right due courtesy, Safely protected to the castle gate. (Turning to Maclean.) Here, other name than chieftain or Maclean He may not give thee; but, without our walls, If he should call thee murderer, traitor, coward, Weapon to weapon, let your fierce contention Be fairly held, and he, who first shall yield, The liar be. Campbells! I charge you there. Free passage for the chieftain and his train.

O father! well I know foul are his crimes, But what—O what, am I, that for my sake This bloody strife should be?—O think, my lord! He gave consent and sanction to my death, But thereon could not look: and at your gate—