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A TRAGEDY
125


ARGYLL.

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 ye
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.

ARGYLL, (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.