Angels of mercy, do you mock my sight!
My boys! my boys!

_Provost Ramsay_.--Save us a'! save us a'!--callants, come
to my arms too! Here's an hour o' joy! This, in my solemn
opinion, is what I ca' livin' a lifetime in the twinklin' o' an
ee. And what think ye, Sir Alexander! The English camp is a' in
a bleeze, and there they are fleeing awa helter-skelter, leaving
everything behind them.

_Sir Alex_.--What! they fly too!--thank Heaven! thank Heaven!
My cup of joy o'erflows, and floods my heart
More than my griefs!

_Richard_.--'Tis true, my father--
To this, our unknown saviour, do we owe
Our life and yours!--'twas he, too, seized the torch,
And bid the bonfire blaze to Scotland's freedom.

_Sir Alex_.--Forgive me, reverend stranger, if that I,
In the delirium of a parent's joy,
O'erlooked the hand that saved me:
Kneel, my sons,
And with your father, at this stranger's feet,
Pour out your thanks, and beg his blessing also.

_[They kneel around the supposed friar, who casts off the
disguise, and is discovered to be their mother_.

_Lady Seton_.--A _mother_, in her children's cause, fears nothing,