The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, with memoir of the author.

332

HALlDON HILL.

[ACT IIH.

Gor. Yet shall my lady's name mix with it
gayly,Mount, vassals, couch your lances, and cry, " Gordon!
Gordon for Scotland and Elizabeth!"
[Exeunt. Loud alarums.
SCENE III.-Another part of the field of battle, adjacent to
the former scene.
Alarums. Enter SWINTON, followed by HOB HATTELY.
Swin. Stand to it yet! The man who flies to-day,
May bastards warm them at his household hearth'!
Hob. That ne'er shall be my curse. My Magdalen
Is trusty as my broadsword.
Swin. Ha, thou knave,
Art thou dismounted too?
Hob. I know, Sir Alan,
You want no homeward guide; so threw my reins
Upon my palfrey's neck, and let him loose.
Within an hour he stands before my gate;
And Magdalen will need no other token
To bid the Melrose Monks say masses for me.
Swin. Thou art resolved to cheat the halter,
then?
Hob. It is my purpose,
Having lived a thief, to die a brave man's death;
And never had I a more glorious chance for't.