, gossips said,
Were born with a sad face; but I could wish
That I had never smiled, or that her maid
Had been my mother, rather than that I
Had been the bearer of this day's vile tidings.

_Sir Alex_.--'Tis of my sons!--what! what of them, Lord Percy?
What of them?

_Percy_.--Yes, 'tis of your sons I'd speak!--
They live--they're well!--can you be calm to hear me?
I _would_ speak of your sons.

_Sir Alex_.--I feel!--I feel!
I understand you, Percy! you WOULD speak of my sons!--
Go, thrust thy head into a lion's den,
Murder its whelps, and say to it, _Be calm_!
Be calm! and feel a dagger in thy heart!
'Twas kindly said!--kind! kind! to say, _Be calm_!
I'm calm, Lord Percy! what--what of my sons?

_Percy_.--If I can tell thee, and avoid being choked--
Choked with my shame and loathing--I will tell thee!
But each particular word of this black mission
Is like a knife thrust in between my teeth.

_Sir Alex_.--Torture me not, my lord, but speak the worst;
My ears can hear--my heart can hold no more!

_Enter_ LADY SETON.

_Percy_.--Hear them in as few words as I can tell it:
Edward hath sworn, and he will keep his vow,
That if to-day ye yield not up the town,
Become his prisoners, break your faith with Scotland,
Ye with the morning dawn shall see your sons
Hung up before your windows. He hath sworn it;
And, by my earldom--faith as a Christian--
Honour as a peer--he will perform it!

_Lady Seton [aside]_.--Ruler of earth and heaven! a mother begs
Thy counsel--Thy protection! Say I _mother_!
No voice again shall call me by that name--
Both! both my boys!

_Sir Alex_.--Ha! my Matilda!
Thou here! Dry up thy tears, my love! dry up thy tears!
I cannot sacrifice both sons and mother!
Alas, my country! I must sell thee dearly!
My faith--mine honour too!--take--take them, Percy!
I am a father, and my sons shall live!--
Shall _live_! and I shall _die_! [_Unsheathing his sword_.

_Lady Seton_.--Hold! hold, my husband--save thy life and honour!
Thou art a father--am not I a mother?
Knowest thou the measure of a mother's love?
Think ye she yearns not for her own heart's blood?
Yet I will _live_! and thou shalt live, my husband!
We will not rob this Edward of his shame;
Write--I will dictate as my sons had done it--
I know their nature, for 'twas I who gave it.

_Sir Alex_.--Thou wait'st an answer, Percy--I will give it.
_[Sits down to write_.

No; I cannot, Matilda.

_Lady Seton_.--Write thus:
"Edward may br