nverlochy's shore.
I've told thee how we swept Dundee,
And tamed the Lindsays' pride;
But never have I told thee yet
How the Great Marquis died!

III.

A traitor sold him to his foes;{A}
O deed of deathless shame!
I charge thee, boy, if e'er thou meet
With one of Assynt's name--
Be it upon the mountain's side,
Or yet within the glen,
Stand he in martial gear alone,
Or back'd by armed men--
Face him, as thou would'st face the man
Who wrong'd thy sire's renown;
Remember of what blood thou art,
And strike the caitiff down!

IV.

They brought him to the Watergate{B}
Hard bound with hempen span,
As though they held a lion there,
And not a fenceless man.
They set him high upon a cart--
The hangman rode below--
They drew his hands behind his back,
And bared his lordly brow.
Then, as a hound is slipp'd from leash,
They cheer'd the common throng,
And blew the note with yell and shout,
And bade him pass along.

V.

It would have made a brave man's heart
Grow sad and sick that day,
To watch the keen malignant eyes
Bent down on that array.
There stood the Whig west-country lords
In balcony and bow,
There sat their gaunt and wither'd dames,
And their daughters all a-row;
And every open window
Was full as full might be,
With black-robed Covenanting carles,
That goodly sport to see!

VI.

But when he came, though pale and wan,
He look'd so great and high,{C}
So noble was his manly front,
So calm his steadfast eye;--
The rabble rout forbore to shout,
And each man held his breath,
For well they knew the hero's soul
Was face to face with death.
And then a mournful shudder
Through all the people crept,
And some that came to scoff at him,
Now turn'd aside and wept.

VII.

But onwards--always onwards,
In silence and in gloom,
The dreary pageant labour'd,
Till it reach'd the house of doom:
But first a woman's voice was heard
In jeer and laughter loud,{D}
And an angry cry and a hiss arose
From the heart of the tossing crowd:
Then, as the Graeme look'd upwards,
He caught the ugly smile
Of him who sold his King for gold--
The master-fiend Argyle!

VIII