At a somewhat later period, an Irish sword-player, named O'Bryan, who had beaten all the combatants at the Bear Garden, and various individuals in other parts of the kingdom, paid a visit to Edinburgh, where, according to his custom, he challenged the inhabitants to produce an antagonist, under the usual penalty. That a breach of the peace of this monstrous character was then tolerated, or such an exaction submitted to, in a populous and not unenlightened city, may well excite surprise; but if we only reflect on how much custom will reconcile us to, our wonder may in some measure cease. O'Bryan had been in the city for some weeks, daily parading through its streets to proclaim his challenge, when the Duke of Hamilton, then residing in Holyrood House, sent for Donald Bane, the teacher of the broadsword already mentioned, with the view of engaging him to take up the cause of the citizens.

When Bane arrived at the palace, the Duke of Argyle happened to be present, and, as an old commander of the veteran swordsman, entered heartily into the project. 'Has he a drum?' said Bane. 'Yes,' answered Argyle, 'and a very clever, stout fellow he is, I assure you.' 'You may make yourself easy as to that,' replied Bane, 'for I have broken his drum already.' This was really the case; for meeting O'Bryan at the foot of the West Bow, where he was, in no very courteous terms, defying the whole of Scotland, the patriotic blood of the Caledonian had become excited, and he drove his foot through the one end of the drum and his fist through the other, as a first intimation of his acceptance of the challenge. An agreement, indeed, had already been made between O'Bryan and Bane to fight on that day week. It was nevertheless thought necessary that a reply to the challenge should be published, in fair, set terms, and in Latin verse; a fact which strikingly proves the interest taken in these sanguinary proceedings by persons of the better order. Donald being now sixty-six years of age, some fears were entertained by his friends for his success in the encounter; and tradition represents his chief asking if he thought he were 'yauld enough' for O'Bryan. On this the veteran pulled out his claymore and made it whistle in the air over his head, a sufficiently expressive test of his strength of arm. As he passed along the street, some of the by-standers said, 'Ah, Donald 's failed; I doubt he'll no do'; whereupon he leaped up to a lamp-iron far above the reach of ordinary men, hung by one hand for a moment, and, springing down, exclaimed, 'She'll do yet.'

"I, Donald Bane, fair-complexioned and tall, shall not fail to enter the lists with this bully Andrew. With Heaven's assistance, and as a friend to my country, I will go to meet him, who, unskilled in the art, daringly challenges me to the combat. In a short time, when we have entered upon the fight, brave men admitted to behold us will perhaps see that the pugilist O'Bryan is, as I believe, not so expert a master of the art of fencing. Whether he have a protection or a patron, my weapon will render him an idle capon."