XXIV. Then, cloaking hate with fiery zeal, Proud Lorn first answer'd the appeal ; "Thou comest, O holy Man, True sons of blessed church to greet, But little deeming here to meet A wretch, beneath the ban Of Pope and Church, for murder done Well may'st thou wonder we should know Such miscreant here, nor lay him low, Or dream of greeting, peace, or truce, With excommunicated Bruce ! Yet well I grant, to end debate, Thy sainted voice decide his fate." XXV. Then Ronald pled the stranger's cause, And knighthood's oath and honour's laws; And Isabel, on bended knee, Brought pray'rs and tears to back the plea; And Edith lent her generous aid, And wept, and Lorn for mercy pray'd, "Hence," he exclaim'd, " degenerate maid! Was't not enough to Ronald's bower I brought thee, like a paramour, Or bond-maid at her master's gate, He waked a spark, that, long suppress'd, Had smoulder'd in Lord Ronald's breast; And now, as from the flint the fire, In mock'ry crown'd with wreaths of green, And Fraser, flower of chivalry? Have they not been on gibbet bound, Their quarters flung to hawk and hound, And hold we here a cold debate, To yield more victims to their fate? What! can the English Leopard's mood Never be gorged with northern blood? Was not the life of Athole shed, To sooth the tyrant's sicken'd bed? Be nought but quarter, hang, and slay !— XXVII. "Nor deem," said stout Dunvegan's knight, If Bruce shall e'er find friends again, With twice a thousand at his back. Nay, chafe not at my bearing bold, Good Abbot! for thou know'st of old, Torquil's rude thought and stubborn will Nor will I barter Freedom's cause For England's wealth, or Rome's applause." XXVIII. The Abbot seem'd with eye severe, The hardy Chieftain's speech to hear; Twice fell his eye, his accents shook; Shuts paradise, and opens hell; |