"Hear you not how numerous they are?
Mark that shout! they thirst for blood.

If you have love, pity, for your wife, delay not a moment.

Again-" The uproar redoubled, and the room was instantly filled with shrieking women in their night-clothes, the attendants of Lady Wallace.

She almost expiring, on her husband's breast.
"O my lord!" cried the terrified creatures, wringing their hands, "what will become of us! The Southrons are at the gates, and we shall be lost forever!" "Fear not," replied Wallace; "retire to your chambers.

I am the person they seek: none else will meet with injury." Appeased by this assurance, the women retreated to their apartments; and Wallace, turning to the earl, who continued to enforce the necessity of his flight, repeated, that he would not consent to leave his wife in such a tumult.
"Leave me," cried she, in an inarticulate voice, "or see me die." As she spoke, there was a violent crash, and a tremendous burst of imprecations.