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SCENE I.
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SCENE I.

Argyll 's castle, the vestibule, or grand entrance; a noise of bustle and voices heard without, and servants seen crossing the stage, as the scene opens.
Enter Dugald, meeting 1st servant.
Dugald.
They are arrived, Maclean and all his train;
Run quickly, man, and give our chieftains notice.

1st serv.
They know already: from the tower we spied
The mournful cavalcade: the Earl and Lorne
Are down the staircase hasting to receive them.

Dugald.
I've seen them light, a sooty-coated train,
With lank and woeful faces, and their eyes
Bent to the ground, as though our castle gate
Had been the scutcheon'd portal of a tomb,
Set open to receive them.

2d serv.
Ay, on the pavement fall their heavy steps
Measured and slow, as if her palled coffin
They follow'd still.

Dugald.
Hush, man! Here comes the Earl,
With face composed and stern; but look behind him
How John of Lorne doth gnaw his nether lip,
And beat his clenched hand against his thigh,
Like one who tampers with half-bridled ire!

2d serv.
Has any one offended him?

Dugald.
Be silent,
For they will overhear thee.—Yonder too
[Pointing to the opposite side of the stage.
Come the Macleans: let us our stations keep,
And see them meet.

[Retiring with the other to the bottom of the stage.
Enter Argyll and Lorne, attended, and in deep mourning; while, at the same time, by the opposite side of the stage, enter Maclean, Benlora, Lochtarish, and Glenfadden, with attendants, also in deep mourning: Argyll and Maclean go up to one another, and formally embrace.
Arg.
Welcome! if such a cheerful word as this
May with our deep affliction suited be.
Lochtarish too, and brave Benlora, ay,
And good Glenfadden also,—be ye all
With due respect received, as claims your worth.

[Taking them severally by the hand as he names them. Maclean then advances to embrace Lorne, who shrinks back from him, but immediately correcting himself, bends his body another way, as if suddenly seized with some violent pain.
Arg.
(to Maclean).
Regard him not: he hath imprudently
A recent wound exposed to chiling air,
And oft the pain with sudden pang attacks him.

Loch.
Ay, what is shrewder? we have felt the like,
And know it well, my lord.

Arg.
(bowing to Lochtarish, but continuing to speak to Maclean).
Yet, ne'ertheless, good son-in-law and chieftain,
Believe thou well that with a brother's feelings,
Proportion'd to the dire and dismal case
That hath befallen, he now receives you; also
Receiving these your friends with equal favour.
This is indeed to us a woeful meeting,
Chieftain of Mull.
[Looking keenly in his face, while the other shuns his eye.
I see full well the change
Which violent grief upon that harrow'd visage
So deeply hath impress'd.

Mac.
(still embarrassed, and shrinking from Argyll 's observation).
Ah! ah! the woeful day!—I cannot speak.
Alas, alas!

Arg.
Alas, in truth,
Too much the woeful widower's alter'd looks,
Upon thy face I see.

Loch.
(to Argyll).
You see, my lord, his eyes with too much weeping
Are weak, and shun the light. Nor should we marvel:
What must to him the sudden loss have been,
When even to us, who were more distantly
Connected with her rare and matchless virtue,
It brought such keen affliction?

Arg.
Yes, good Lochtarish, I did give her to you—
To your right worthy chief, a noble creature,
With every kindly virtue—every grace

503

That might become a noble chieftain's wife:
And that ye have so well esteem'd—so well
Regarded, cherish'd, and respected her,
As your excessive sorrow now declares,
Receive from me a grateful father's thanks.
Lochtarish, most of all to thy good love
I am beholden.

Loch.
Ah! small was the merit
Such goodness to respect.

Arg.
And thou, Benlora;
A woman, and a stranger, on the brave
Still potent claims maintain; and little doubt I
They were by thee regarded.
[Benlora steps back, frowning sternly, and remains silent.
And, Glenfadden,
Be not thy merits overlook'd.

Glen.
Alas!
You overrate, my lord, such slender service.

Arg.
Wrong not, I pray, thy modest worth.—But here,
[Turning again to Maclean.
Here most of all, from whom her gentle virtues,
(And so indeed it right and fitting was,)
Their best and dearest recompense received,
To thee, most generous chieftain, let me pay
The thanks that are thy due.

Mac.
Oh, oh! alas!

Arg.
Ay, in good sooth! I see thy grief-worn eyes
Do shun the light.
But grief is ever sparing of its words.
In brief, I thank you all: and for the love
Ye have so dearly shown to me and mine,
I trust, before we part, to recompense you
As suits your merit and my gratitude.

Lorne
(aside to Argyll).
Ay, father; now ye speak to them shrewd words;
And now I'm in the mood to back you well.

Arg.
(aside to Lorne).
'Tis well thou art; but check those eager looks;
Lochtarish eyes thee keenly.

[Directing a hasty glance to Lochtarish, who is whispering to Glenfadden, and looking suspiciously at Lorne.
Lorne
(stepping forward to Maclean, &c.).
Chieftain, and honour'd gentlemen, I pray
The sullen, stern necessity excuse
Which pain imposed upon me, and receive,
Join'd with my noble father's, such poor thanks
As I may offer to your loving worth.

Arg.
Pass on, I pray you; till the feast be ready,
Rest ye above, where all things are prepared
For your refreshment.

[Exeunt.