_Sir Alex_.--Oh, what is honour to a father's heart? Can it extinguish nature--soothe its feelings-- Or make the small still voice of conscience dumb? My sons! my sons! Though ye should hold me guiltless, there's a tongue Within me whispers, _I'm your murderer!_ Ah! my Matilda! hadst thou been less noble, We both had been less wretched! But do I, To hide my sin, place't on the mother's heart? Though she did hide the _mother_ from _men's_ eyes, Now, crushed by woes, she cannot look on _mine_. But, locked in secret, weeps her soul away, That it may meet her children's! I alone, Widowed and childless, like a blasted oak Reft of its root and branches, must be left For every storm to howl at! [ELLIOT _enters with a dagger_. Ah, my sons! Could anguish rend my heartstrings, I should not Behold another sun rise on my misery! _Elliot [springing upon him]_.--By Heavens, mine enemy, I swear thou shalt not! _They struggle. Shouting without. Enter_ FRIAR _and_ SETON'S SONS, PROVOST RAMSAY. FRIAR _springs forward_. _Friar_.--Down! traitor, down! [_Stabs_ ELLIOT. _Sir Alex_.--My sons! my sons! Angels of mercy, do you mock my sight! My boys! my boys! _Provost Ramsay_.--Save us a'! save us a'!--callants, come to my arms too! Here's an hour o' joy! This, in my solemn opinion, is what I ca' livin' a lifetime in the twinklin' o' an ee. And what think ye, Sir Alexander! The English camp is a' in a bleeze, and there they are fleeing awa helter-skelter, leaving everything behind them. _Sir Alex_.--What! they fly too!--thank Heaven! thank Heaven! My cup of joy o'erflows, and floods my heart More than my griefs! _Richard_.--'Tis true, my father-- To this, our unknown saviour, do we owe Our life and yours!--'twas he, too, seized the torch, And bid the bonfire blaze to Scotland's freedom. _Sir Alex_.--Forgive me, reverend stranger, if that I, In the delirium of a parent's joy, O'erlooked the hand that saved me: Kneel, my sons, And with your father, at this stranger's feet, Pour out your thanks, and beg his blessing also. _[They kneel around the supposed friar, who casts off the disguise, and is discovered to be their mother_. _Lady Seton_.--A _mother_, in her children's cause, fears nothing, And needs not _thanks_-- A _woman_, in her _country's cause_, Can dare what man dare! [_They start up._ _Sir Alex_.--What! my Matilda! _Richard_.--My mother! _Henry_.--Ha! my mother! _Lady Seton_.--Joy, joy, my sons; your mother's done her duty! And joy, my husband, we have saved our _honour_. _Sir Alex_.--Matilda, thou hast ta'en my heart anew, And with it, too, my words! _Provost Ramsay_.--The like o' this! I may weel say, what, in the universal globe, tempted me to be a bachelor! [_Exeunt._ XXV. FAREWELL TO A PLACE ON THE BORDERS. Lochmaben! I from thee must part, 'Tis destined so to be; Thy lovely lochs, dear to my heart, I never more may see.