"Now," he said, "all is over--let the piper play, _Ha til mi tulidh_" (we return no more); and he is said to have expired before the dirge was finished.
This singular man died in bed in his own house, in the parish of Balquhidder.

He was buried in the churchyard of the same parish, where his tombstone is only distinguished by a rude attempt at the figure of a broadsword.
The character of Rob Roy is, of course, a mixed one.

His sagacity, boldness, and prudence, qualities so highly necessary to success in war, became in some degree vices, from the manner in which they were employed.
The circumstances of his education, however, must be admitted as some extenuation of his habitual transgressions against the law; and for his political tergiversations, he might in that distracted period plead the example of men far more powerful, and less excusable in becoming the sport of circumstances, than the poor and desperate outlaw.

On the other hand, he was in the constant exercise of virtues, the more meritorious as they seem inconsistent with his general character.

Pursuing the occupation of a predatory chieftain,--in modern phrase a captain of banditti,--Rob Roy was moderate in his revenge, and humane in his successes.