Let's have a glow as fierce as the brave hearts Craig. Was that the tramp of horse? No; but the roar Of the swoll'n torrent in the pausing wind. Ham. How long, just Heaven, wilt Thou forbear to smite These sons of Belial? In the book of time No page of bloody tyranny is writ More foul than theirs. Our people hunted down, Put to the sword, or from the cruel rack. Borne to the scaffold! Why? Because they cleave To Scotland's ancient faith, and will not brook The claim of England's Church to bind their souls. Craig. Woe to these wolves of Edom! Double woe To this licentious king, who desolates The sanctuary he swore to spare! Bryce. To spare! Nay, to defend. But what to Charles are oaths? False to his friend as to his land, what boon Ham. Peace, John Brycefield! Too much thou broodest on a private wrong, Too little on a suffering Church. Bryce. My injuries Are warrant for my truth. [A distant report of carbines. Ah! now your ears, That was no brawl of rivers. [Another and nearer volley. There again! Mars, sirs, is up! I've known his strain from boyhood. Ham. Put by this heathenish lingo. Bryce. Heathen names Consort with heathen deeds. The ring of hoofs- Ham. [Drawing] Then death to him who enters first! Bryce. The tramp grows fainter-now it dies away; They hawk at other quarry. [A low knocking is heard at door, and twice repeated. Craig. Hist! 'Tis Allan's signal. Quick! unbar the door. [BRYCEFIELD opens the door, and admits JOHN BALFOUR of Burley, and ANDREW KEITH. Ham. [Giving his hand.] You're welcome, and your comrade What, Andrew Keith! More outrage! Bur. [To KEITH.] Speak thou, pastor, And be thy speech the trumpet which proclaims |