Darker and darker grew the frown upon his brow; his tightly compressed lip, his heaving chest betraying the fearful passion that agitated him; but when he spoke, there was evidently a struggle for that dignified calmness which in general distinguished him, though ever and anon burst forth the undisguised voice of wrath.
"'Tis well, 'tis very well," he said.

"These wild Scots would tempt us to the utmost, and they shall be satisfied.

Ah! my lords of Buchan and Fife, give ye good morrow.

What think ye of these doings amidst your countrymen, bethink ye they have done well ?" "Well, as relates to their own ruin, aye, very well, my liege; they act but as would every follower of the murderer Bruce," replied Buchan, harshly and sullenly.
"They are mad, stark mad, your highness; the loss of a little blood may bring them to their senses," rejoined the more volatile Fife.
"And is it thus ye think, base, villainous traitors as ye are, leagued with the rebel band in his coronation?
My Lord of Chester, attach them of high treason." "What means your grace ?" exclaimed both noblemen at once, but in very different accents, "Of what are we charged, and who dare make this lying accusation ?" "Are ye indeed so ignorant ?" replied the king, jibingly.

"Know ye not that Isabella, Countess of Buchan, and representative, in the absence of her brother, of the earldom of Fife, hath so dared our displeasure as to place the crown on the rebel's head, and vow him homage ?" "Hath she indeed dared so to do?
By heaven, she shall rue this!" burst wrathfully from Buchan, his swarthy countenance assuming a yet swarthier aspect.