--Fear not, good provost; I through life have learned
To live with honour, or with honour fall.
_Richard_.--And as the father dies, so shall his sons. What
sayest thou, Henry?
_Henry_.--I would say but this--
(If one with a smooth chin may have a voice)--
When thou dost nobly fall, I'll but survive
To strike revenge--then follow thy example.
_Provost Ramsay_.--Bravely said, callants! As sure as
death, I wish ye were my sons! Do ye ken, Sir Alexander, the
only thing that grieves me in a day like this, is, that I hae
naebody to die for the glory an' honour o' auld Scotland but
mysel? But, save us, neebor Elliot! ye look as douf an' as
dowie-like as if ye had been forced to mak yer breakfast o' yer
coat-sleeve.
_Hugh Elliot_.---In truth, methinks, this is no time for smiles--
In every street, each corner of the town,
Struck by some unseen hand, the dead are strewed;
From every house the children's wail is heard,
Screaming in vain for food; and the poor mother,
Worn to a skeleton, sits groaning by!
My house, 'tis known, o'erlooks the battlements;
'Tis not an hour gone that I left my couch,
Hastening to speed me hither, when a sound,
Fierce as the thunders, shook our firm-built walls:
The casements fell in atoms, and the bed,
Which I that moment left, rocked in confusion:
I turned to gaze on it, and I beheld!--beheld
My wife's fair bosom torn--her heart laid bare!
And the red stream came oozing to my feet!
_Is this a time for smiles!_
_Provost Ramsay_.
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