some length, Maclean is mortally wounded, and the Campbells give a loud shout.
MACLEAN.
And better deed thou couldst not do upon me,
Than rid me of a life disgraced and wretched.
But guilty though I be, thou see'st full well,
That to the brave opposed, arms in hand,
I am no coward.Oh! could I as bravely,
In home-rais'd broils, with violent men have strove,
It had been well: but there, alas! I proved
A poor, irresolute, and nerveless wretch.
(After a pause, and struggling for breath.)
To live, alas! in good men's memories
Detested and contemn'd:—to be with her
For whom I thought to beCome, gloomy grave!
Thou cover'st all!
(After another painful struggle, every one standing in deep silence round him, and Lorne bending over him compassionately.)
And merit not.—Brave Lorne, I ask it not;
Though in thy piteous eye a look I see
That might embolden me.There is above
One who doth know the weakness of our nature,—
Our thoughts and conflicts:—all that e'er have breathed;
