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May ev'n prove warm enough for Lowland flower
Therein to flourish sweetly.

ALICE.

Thanks, noble Sir; but we must go to-morrow.

DUNARDEN.

So soon! the daughter of my early friend

Beneath my roof, seen like a Will o' th' wisp,
Glancing and vanishing! It must not be.
Were I but half the man that once I was,
I'd fight thy stubborn brother hand to hand.
And glaive to glaive, but he should tarry longer,
Or leave his charge behind him.

ALICE.

Nay, blame him not: it was his own good will

Which made him from our nearest homeward route,
Though press'd for time, start these long miles aside,
To pay his father's friend a passing visit;
For Malcolm, he believed, was still in Glasgow,
So rumour said.

DUNARDEN.

I thank his courtesy;

But, if my name be Fergus of Dunarden,
Neither the morrow, nor next morrow's morrow
Shall see thee quit my tower. I'll go and find him,