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The Campbell's triumph play'd? Will this speak for thee? (Turning to Second Vassal.) And, Thona, what good merit pleadest thou? The coal-black steed of Clone, thy moon-light plunder, Ta'en from the spiteful laird, will he, good sooth! Neigh favour on thee? (To Third Vassal.) And my valiant Fallen, Bethink thee well if fair-hair'd Flora's cries, Whom from her native bower by force thou took'st, Will plead for thee.—And say ye still perhaps— Perhaps there is necessity?

Strong should it be, Lochtarish; for the act Is fell and cruel thou would'st push us to.

Ha, man of mercy! are thy lily hands From bloody taint unstain'd? What sights were those Thou look'dst upon in Brunock's burning tower, When infants through the flames their wailings sent, And yet unaided perish'd?