.

The Marquis gazed a moment,
And nothing did he say,
But the cheek of Argyle grew ghastly pale,
And he turn'd his eyes away.
The painted harlot at his side,
She shook through every limb,
For a roar like thunder swept the street,
And hands were clench'd at him,
And a Saxon soldier cried aloud,
"Back, coward, from thy place!
For seven long years thou hast not dared
To look him in the face."{E}

IX.

Had I been there with sword in hand
And fifty Camerons by,
That day through high Dunedin's streets
Had peal'd the slogan cry.
Not all their troops of trampling horse,
Nor might of mailed men--
Not all the rebels in the south
Had borne us backwards then!
Once more his foot on Highland heath
Had stepp'd as free as air,
Or I, and all who bore my name,
Been laid around him there!

X.

It might not be. They placed him next
Within the solemn hall,
Where once the Scottish Kings were throned
Amidst their nobles all.
But there was dust of vulgar feet
On that polluted floor,
And perjured traitors fill'd the place
Where good men sate before.
With savage glee came Warristoun{F}
To read the murderous doom,
And then uprose the great Montrose
In the middle of the room.

XI.

"Now by my faith as belted knight,
And by the name I bear,
And by the red Saint Andrew's cross
That waves above us there--
Ay, by a greater, mightier oath--
And oh, that such should be!--
By that dark stream of royal blood
That lies 'twixt you and me--
I have not sought in battle field
A wreath of such renown,
Nor dared I hope, on my dying day,
To win the martyr's crown!

XII.

"There is a chamber far away
Where sleep the good and brave,
But a better place ye have named for me
Than by my father's grave.
For truth and right, 'gainst treason's might,
This hand has always striven,
And ye raise it up for a witness still
In the eye of earth and heaven.
Then nail my head on yonder tower--
Give every town a limb--
And God who made shall gather them.--
I go from you to Him!"{G}

XIII.

The morning dawn'd full darkly,
The rain came flashing down,
And the jagged streak of the levin-bolt
Lit up