Page:The Family Legend.pdf/76

LOCHTARISH.

Ay, by my faith our very women too:

And in your hall remain, to serve your state,
Nor child nor aged crone.

MACLEAN, (after great agitation.)

Decide, and cast her off!—How far the thoughts

To which these words ye yoke, may go, I guess not.
(Eagerly.) They reach not to her life?

(Pauses and looks at them anxiously, but they are silent.)

Oh, oh! oh, oh! that stern and dreadful silence!

LOCHTARISH.

We will not shed her blood.

MACLEAN.

Then ye will spare her.

LOCHTARISH.

Commit her to our keeping: ask us not

How we shall deal with her.

MACLEAN.

Some fearful mystery is in your words,

Which covers cruel things. O woe the day,