iles!_

_Provost Ramsay_.--Your wife! Heaven preserve us! Weel,
after a', I hae reason to be thankfu' I hae neither wife nor
bairns on a day like this!

_Sir Alex_.--Behold an envoy from the English camp,
Sent with proposals, or some crafty truce.

_Hugh Elliot_.--Let me entreat you, then, most noble sir,
Give him all courtesy; and if his terms
Be such as we in honour may accept,
Refuse them not by saying, WE WILL DIE.

_Enter_ EARL PERCY _and_ Attendants.

_Percy_.--Good morrow, my Scotch cousins!
My gracious sovereign, your right lawful master,
Hath, in his mercy, left you these conditions--
Now to throw wide your gates, and, if ye choose,
Go walk into the Tweed, and drown your treason;
Or run, like scapegoats, to the wilderness,
Bearing your sins, and half a week's provision;
Or, should these terms not meet your approbation,
Ere midnight we shall send some _fleeter messengers_.
So now, old Governor, my master's answer?

_Provost Ramsay_.--The mischief's in your impudence! But
were I Sir Alexander, the only answer your master should hae,
would be your weel-bred tongue sent back upon the end o' an
arrow; an' that wad be as _fleet a messenger_, as ye talk
about _fleet messengers_, as ony I ken o'.

_Percy_.--Peace, thou barbarian! keep thy frog's throat closed.
I say, old greybeard, hast thou found an answer?

_Sir Alex_.--Had my Lord Percy found more fitting
phrase
To couch his haughty mandate, I perhaps
Had found some meet reply. But as it is,
Thou hast thine answer in this people's eyes.

_Hugh Elliot_.--Since we with life and honour may depart,
Send not an answer that must seal our ruin,
Though it be hero-like to talk of death.

[_Enter_ LADY SETON, _listening_.

Bethink thee well, Sir Governor: these men
Have wives with helpless infants at their breasts;
What husband, think ye, would behold a child
Dashed from the bosom where his head had pillowed,
That his fair wife might fill a conqueror's arms!
These men have parents--feeble, helpless, old;
Yea, men have daughters!--they have maids that love them--
Daughters and maidens chaste as the new moon--
Will they behold them screaming on the streets,
And in the broad day be despoiled by violence?
Think of _these things_, my countrymen! [_Aside to_ PERCY,
Now, my Lord Percy, you may read your answer.

_Percy [aside]_.--So thou art disaffected, good Sir Orator:
Well, ply thy wits, and Edward will reward thee--
Though, for my part, I'd knight thee