_Percy_.--I fear the lady will have his head first. Did you but see her eyes! I'd bet my coronet 'gainst our friar's cowl, Man wink not treason in his bedchamber But she detect it. Then her ears, again; 'Sdeath! she can hear the very sound of light As it does steal, i' the morning, through her curtains. Should our _friend_ wear his head another week, His neck, I'll swear, is not as other men's are. _Edward_.--How fares it with the son, our silent prisoner? _Percy_.--Poor soul, he leans his head against the wall, And stands with his arms thus--across his breast-- Pale as a gravestone, gnashing at his teeth, And looking on his guards just as his mother would! _Edward_.--'Tis now the hour that Elliot has proposed To stir the townsmen up to mutiny. Take our conditions, and _whatever_ you please; Get but the son as hostage!--get but that! And both shall die a thief's death if he yield not; He is a father, Percy--he's a father! The town is ours, and at an easy purchase. _[Exit_ _Percy_.--And she's a mother, Edward! she's a mother! Ay! and a mother; I will pledge my earldom, And be but plain Hal Percy all my life, If she despise not gallows, death, and children, And earn for thee a crown of shame, my master! In sooth, I am ashamed to draw my sword, Lest I should see my face in its bright blade; For sure my mother would not know her son, As he goes blushing on his hangman's errand. SCENE VI.--_A Street_--_the Market-place. Enter_ ELLIOT _and_ Populace. _Elliot_--You heard, my townsmen, how our gracious governor Did talk to us of honour--! you all heard him! Can any of you tell us what is _honour? He_ drinks his wine, _he_ feeds on beeves and capons; _His_ table groans beneath a load of meats; _His_ hounds, _his_ hawks, are fed like Christian men! _He_ sleeps in a downy couch, o'erhung with purple; And these, all these are _honourable_ doings! He talks of _liberty_! Is it, then, _liberty_ to be cooped up Within these prison walls, to starve from want, That we may have the liberty--mark it, my friends!-- The wondrous _liberty_ to call him _Governor_? Had ye the hearts or hands your fathers had, You'd to the castle, take the keys by force, And ope the gates to let your children live. Here comes your provost--now appeal to him. _Enter_ PROVOST RAMSAY.--_The people demand bread_. _Provost Ramsay_.--Gie you food!--your bairns dee wi' hunger!--and ye maun hae bread! It is easy saying, Gie ye! but where am I to get it? Do you think there's naebody finds the grund o' their stamachs but yersels? I'm sure I hae been blind fastin' these four-and-twenty hours! But wad ye no suffer this, and ten times mair for liberty, and for the glory and honour of auld Scotland? _Elliot [to the people]_.--He, too, can cant of _liberty_ and _honour_!