follow his example, and standing up, bow to the Lady.)
Your health, most noble dame.
(Helen, rising also, bows to him, and throws back her veil: the cup falls from his hands; all the company start up from table; screams and exclamations of surprise are heard from all corners of the hall, and confused commotion seen every where. Maclean, Lochtarish, and Glenfadden, stand appalled and motionless; but Benlora, looking fiercely round him, draws his sword.)
BENLORA.
And think ye so to slay us, crafty foe?
No, by my faith! like such we will not fall,
Arms in our hands, though by a thousand foes
Encompass'd.—Cruel, murderous, ruthless men,
Too good a warrant have you now to think us,
But cowards never!
Rouse ye, base Macleans!
And thou, whose subtlety around us thus
With wreckful skill these cursed toils have wound,
Sinks thy base spirit now? (To Lochtarish.)
ARGYLL, (holding up his hand.)
