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THE  UDY  OF  THE  LAKE 


BY 

SIR    WALTER    SCOTT  ' 

WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  AND  EXPLANATORY  NOTES 

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STANDARD    LITERATURE    SERIES 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE 


BY 


SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  AND  EXPLANATORY  NOTES 


NEW  YORK  AND  NEW  ORLEANS 
UNIVERSITY  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1896 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
UNIVERSITY  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


***  1731 


Press  of  J.  J.  Little  &  Co. 
Astor  Place,  New  York 


<  y,i"<* I  — 

1 


INTRODUCTION.  z  ^ 

The  distinctive  qualities  of  Scott's  genius — the  power  of  vividly 
recreating  the  historic  past,  with  its  scenes  of  stirring  action  and  varied 
personation  of  character,  set  in  a  background  of  animated  and  pictur- 
esque description — are  especially  to  be  found  in  the  delightful  metrical 
romance  of  The  Lady  of  the  Lake.  The  scenic  pictures,  which  form  one 
of  the  chief  charms  of  the  poem,  render  it,  even  now,  as  Lockhart,  the 
poet's  son-in-law,  affirms,  "one  of  the  most  minute  and  faithful  hand- 
books to  the  region  in  which  the  drama  of  Ellen  and  the  Knight  of 
Snowdoun  is  enacted." 

The  era  of  the  poem  is  that  of  the  brief  life  [1512-1542]  of  James  V. 
of  Scotland,  father  of  the  unfortunate  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  and  son  of 
i.he  gallant  monarch  whose  fantastic  ideas  of  chivalry  wrought  such  woe 
CO  his  kingdom  on  the  fatal  field  of  Flodden.  King  James,  under  the 
incognito  of  James  Fitz-James,  Knight  of  Snowdoun  (Stirling),  is  himself 
the  chief  character  of  the  poem.  The  other  personages  are  Roderick 
Dhu,  chief  of  the  imaginary  Clan  McAlpine,  in  whose  MacGregor  fast- 
nesses find  refuge  James  Douglas,  the  ambitious  son  of  the  exiled  Earl 
of  Angus,  with  whom  King  James  had  an  historic  quarrel  ;  and  Ellen 
Douglas,  his  daughter,  together  with  Ellen's  lover,  Malcolm  Graeme, 
scion  of  the  ancient  and  powerful  family  of  the  Grahams  of  Menteith, 
and  ward  of  the  Scottish  king.  Interest  in  the  characters  and  incidents 
of  the  poem  is  heightened  by  the  energy  and  exhilaration  of  the  narrative, 
while  unrestrained  is  the  reader's  admiration  of  the  art  that  has  given 
the  story  so  fascinating  a  setting  in  the  natural  beauties  of  the  region  of 
Loch  Katrine. 

Scott,  it  has  often  been  said,  has  made  classic  the  Scottish  Highlands 
by  his  descriptions  in  the  poem.  But  this  is  what  he  has  done  with 
every  section  of  the  country  of  which  he  has  treated  in  either  history  or 
romance.  Especially  interesting,  however,  is  the  locality  of  the  poem, 
not  only  for  its  picturesque  beauties,  but  for  the  romantic  history  which 
Scott  has  embodied  of  the  Scottish  Highlanders,  their  ancient  feuds, 
customs,  and  manners.  The  poet,  it  is  true,  takes  certain  liberties  with 
history  in  dealing  with  the  period  and  its  historic  characters  ;  but,  in  the 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

main,  we  have  a  faithful  picture  in  The  Lady  of  the  Lake  of  the  clan 
enmities  among  the  Scottish  Gaels,  as  we  have  a  realistic,  though  some- 
what idealized,  picture  in  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel  of  the  life  and 
manners  of  the  ancient  Borderers. 

Before  Scott's  day  great  changes  had  come  about  in  the  Highlands  of 
Scotland.  After  Culloden  and  the  fall  of  the  Stuart  cause  many  High- 
land chieftains  who  rallied  round  the  Pretender  came  to  the  block,  while 
the  clans  were  disarmed,  and  even  forbidden  to  wear  the  Highland 
costume,  and  the  clan  system  was  broken  up.  Military  roads,  penetrat- 
ing the  country,  moreover,  were  built,  and  these  not  only  aided  in  reduc- 
ing the  clans  to  order,  but  opened  up,  with  the  happiest  results,  the 
means  of  intercourse  with  the  Lowlands.  In  James  the  Fifth's  time  the 
work  of  clan  subjection  had  already  been  attempted  ;  but  it  was  too 
great  an  achievement  to  be  successful  until  Scottish  hatred  of  England, 
fostered  by  the  religious  and  dynastic  intrigues  of  France,  brought  into 
responsive  action  the  stronger  arm  and  weightier  force  of  the  South. 

The  locality  where  the  incidents  of  the  poem  occur — the  vicinity  of 
Loch  Katrine  and  the  Trosachs,  in  the  Western  Highlands  of  Perthshire 
— may  be  traced  on  the  accompanying  map.  It  is  faithfully,  as  well  as 
glowingly,  depicted  by  the  poet.  "  The  rocks,  the  ravines,  and  the  tor- 
rents which  he  treats  of,"  as  an  early  reviewer  affirms,  "are  not  the 
imperfect  sketches  of  a  hurried  traveller,  but  the  finished  studies  of  a 
resident  artist,  deliberately  drawn  from  different  points  of  view  ;  each 
has  its  true  shape  and  position  ;  it  is  a  portrait  ;  it  has  its  name  by 
which  the  spectator  is  invited  to  examine  the  exactness  of  the  resem- 
blance. The  figures  which  are  combined  with  the  landscape  are  painted 
with  the  same  fidelity.  The  boldness  of  feature,  the  lightness  and  com- 
pactness of  form,  the  wildness  of  air,  and  the  careless  ease  of  attitude  of 
these  mountaineers,  are  as  congenial  to  their  native  highlands  as  the 
birch  and  the  pine  which  darken  their  glens,  the  sedge  which  fringes 
their  lakes,  or  the  heath  which  waves  over  their  moors.  .  .  .  There 
are  few  persons,  we  believe,  who  have  wandered  among  the  secluded  val- 
leys of  the  Highlands,  and  contemplated  the  singular  people  by  whom 
they  are  still  tenanted — with  their  love  of  music  and  song,  their  hardy 
and  irregular  life,  so  unlike  the  unvarying  toils  of  the  Saxon  peasant ; 
their  devotion  to  their  chiefs,  their  wild  and  lofty  traditions,  their 
national  enthusiasm,  the  melancholy  grandeur  of  the  scenes  they  inhabit, 
and  the  multiplied  superstitions  which  still  linger  among  them — without 
feeling  that  there  is  no  existing  people  so  well  adapted  for  the  purposes 
of  poetry  or  so  capable  of  furnishing  the  occasions  of  new  and  striking 
inventions." 


INTRODUCTION. 


6  INTEODUCTION. 

The  plot  of  the  story  will  be  learned  from  the  summary  which  pre- 
cedes each  Canto.  The  action  of  the  poem  covers  a  period  of  six  days, 
and  the  incidents  of  each  day  occupy  a  Canto.  Appended  will  be  found 
some  brief  comment  on  the  connection  of  the  Scottish  king  (James  Y.) 
with  the  history  of  his  time  and  the  events  set  forth  in  the  poem. 

JAMES  V.   OF  SCOTLAND. 

King  James  V.,  whom  Scott  introduces  in  the  poem  as  the  "  Knight  of 
Snowdoun,"  was  born  at  Linlithgow  in  1512,  and  in  the  following  year 
succeeded  to  the  Scottish  throne,  under  his  mother's  regency,  though  he 
did  not  assume  the  government  of  the  kingdom  until  1528.  His  father, 
as  we  have  seen,  was  the  lamented  monarch  who  fell  on  Flodden  Field 
in  September,  1513,  with  nearly  ten  thousand  of  his  subjects,  of  whom 
there  were  thirteen  Scottish  earls,  fifteen  lords  and  chiefs  of  clans,  five 
peers'  eldest  sons,  two  abbots,  and  one  archbishop,  besides  a  host  of 
minor  gentry. 

James's  mother  was  Margaret  of  England,  daughter  of  Henry  VII. 
The  contemporary  English  king,  Henry  VIII.,  was  therefore  his  uncle. 
On  the  death  of  James  IV.,  his  widow,  the  queen-dowager,  married  the 
Earl  of  Angus,  head  of  the  Douglas  family,  who  naturally  allied  himself 
with  the  English  against  the  French  party  in  the  kingdom.  This  alli- 
ance was  so  unpopular  in  Scotland  that  the  regency  was  speedily  trans- 
ferred by  the  Scottish  Estates  (or  Parliament)  to  the  Duke  of  Albany, 
Admiral  of  France  ;  while  Margaret  took  refuge  in  England,  whither 
her  husband,  who  had  been  kidnapped  by  the  French,  in  time  joined  her. 
Falling  thus  under  Henry  VIII. 's  influence,  both  became  the  instruments 
of  that  sovereign's  active  intrigues  in  Scotland.  In  1524,  in  spite  of  the 
enmity  of  Henry,  the  Duke  of  Albany  became  so  obnoxious  to  the  Scot- 
tish nobility  that  he  departed  for  France  ;  and  in  the  same  year  the 
queen-dowager  and  Angus  were  restored,  by  the  English  king's  contri- 
vance, to  power. 

At  this  period  the  youthful  James  V.  became  ruler  of  the  kingdom, 
though  for  some  time  farther  under  his  mother's  direction  and  that  of 
her  lords  in  Council.  The  Earl  of  Angus  the  young  king  was  persuaded 
to  accept  as  governor,  and  for  several  years  he  practically  became  his 
jailer.  This  was  the  cause  of  James's  enmity  against  the  Douglases. 
In  1528  the  king,  however,  freed  himself  from  this  hated  tutelage,  and 
Angus  was  forced  to  flee  the  kingdom. 

Having  shaken  off  the  Douglas  chains,  James  set  out,  under  happier 
auspices,  to  rule  his  own  kingdom.     Great  as  was  the  influence  of  the 


INTEODUCTION.  7 

Douglases,  the  king's  hatred  of  the  name  and  the  jealousy  of  the  other 
nobles  were  such  that  no  friend  of  the  clan  dared  openly  to  give  the  fugi- 
tive family  shelter.  The  same  severity  was  shown  to  other  rebels,  and 
particularly  to  the  lawless  Bordermen,  as  well  as  to  the  robbers  and  dis- 
turbers of  the  public  peace  among  the  Highland  Gaels.  Specially  did 
the  king  visit  with  dire  punishment  clan  rapine  and  feudal  oppression 
which  were  then  so  rife.  Thus  did  he  win  for  himself  the  good  opinion 
of  the  common  people,  with  whom  he  was  accustomed  to  mingle  in  dis- 
guise, thereby  earning  the  sobriquet  of  the  "  King  of  the  Commons." 

Besides  the  social  turbulence  of  the  era,  Scotland  throughout  the  reign 
had  to  contend  against  religious  and  political  factions,  which  were  far 
from  quieted  by  the  king's  disregard  of  Henry  VIII. 's  desire  to  find  him 
an  English  wife  and  his  own  choice  of  a  French  one.  In  1537  James 
married  Magdalen  of  Valois,  but  she  dying  soon  afterwards  he  espoused 
Mary  of  Lorraine,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Guise.  These  alliances 
increased  the  hostility  of  the  English  king,  and  Scotland  became  more 
pronouncedly  than  ever  anti-English  as  well  as  papal.  For  a  time  there 
was  a  truce  between  the  two  kingdoms,  but  it  was  of  short  duration  ;  and 
armed  expeditions  into  each  other's  territory  followed,  with  increased 
bitterness  between  the  respective  crowns.  One  of  the  fruits  of  these 
raids  was  the  disastrous  rout  of  the  Scottish  forces  at  Solway  Moss,  in 
November,  1542,  which  broke  James's  heart,  the  king  dying  at  Falkland 
within  three  weeks  of  the  batttle.  This  plunged  the  country  anew  into 
trouble,  for  the  successor  to  the  throne  was  the  ill-fated  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots,  who  was  born  just  seven  days  before  James's  death. 

The  Douglas  of  the  poem,  who  is  called  James  Douglas,  is  understood 
to  be  Archibald  Douglas  of  Kilspindie,  a  kinsman  of  the  Earl  of  Angus, 
and  member  of  the  great  house  whom  the  king  hated.  This  Archibald 
Douglas  had  been  a  favorite  at  court  in  the  king's  youth,  but  when  the 
ill-fortune  of  the  ambitious  Douglases  had  sent  most  of  them  into 
hiding  or  exile,  the  Douglas  who  had  been  attached  to  the  young  king 
also  fell  under  the  resentment  of  James.  After  the  death  of  the  king, 
in  1542,  the  Earl  of  Angus  (who  was  Archibald  Douglas,  the  sixth  earl 
of  the  great  Scottish  family)  lived  on,  with  restored  power,  until  the  year 
1560,  when  he  died.  His  daughter,  who  married  Lord  Lennox,  became 
mother  of  the  unfortunate  Lord  Darnley,  husband  of  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots,  and  father  of  James  VI.  The  Angus-Douglas  title,  on  the  death 
of  the  Earl  of  Angus,  passed  to  George,  the  latter's  nephew,  and  brother 
of  the  James  Douglas  who  became  famous  in  history  as  the  Earl  of  Mor- 
ton— the  Scottish  regent  who  was  beheaded  for  complicity  in  the  mur- 
der of  Darnley. 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

Scotland,  after  James  V.'s  death,  fell  into  fresh  difficulties  under  the 
regency  of  the  Earl  of  Arran  and  the  chancellorship  of  Cardinal  Beaton, 
the  spiritual  counsellor  of  the  queen-mother,  and  the  special  object  of 
Henry  VIII. 's  vengeance.  In  1544  the  latter  invaded  Scottish  waters 
with  an  English  fleet,  and  Edinburgh,  the  capital,  was  captured  and 
sacked.  Two  years  later  Beaton  was  assassinated,  and  Scotland  was 
then  launched  upon  the  evil  days  of  civil  and  religious  dissension,  the 
result  of  political  intrigue  and  the  new  opinions  that  came  with  the 
Reformation.  This  ferment  continued  throughout  the  troubled  reign  of 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  intensified  by  the  fears  of  Elizabeth  Tudor, 
Henry  VIII. 's  successor,  that  Mary  would  supplant  her  on  the  English 
throne.  These  fears,  and  the  plots  against  Elizabeth's  life,  which  Mary's 
Scottish  and  French  partisans  were  incessantly  hatching,  led  Elizabeth 
to  capture  and  imprison  Mary,  and  at  length  to  behead  her.  But  time 
has  its  revenges  ;  for  at  Elizabeth's  death,  in  1603,  Mary's  son  Henry, 
Lord  Darnley,  James  VI.  of  Scotland,  ascended  the  English  throne  as 
James  I.  of  England,  and  thus  united  the  crowns  of  the  two  rival 
kingdoms. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTES.  9 

BIOGEAPHIOAL  NOTES. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  was  born  in  Edinburgh,  August  15, 1771.  On  both 
his  father's  and  his  mother's  side  he  was  related  to  several  of  those 
historic  Border  families  whose  warlike  memories  gave  him  material  for 
so  many  of  his  romances.  His  delicate  health  in  childhood  caused  him 
to  spend  much  time  in  the  open  air  on  his  grandfather's  farm.  This 
doubtless  influenced  his  later  life.  His  lameness  made  him  a  great 
reader,  and  he  reveled  in  fairy  stories,  romances,  and  Eastern  tales. 

He  received  his  education  at  the  High  School  and  University  of  Edin- 
burgh. His  record  at  these  institutions  was  better  as  a  story-teller  than 
as  a  student.  Although  destined  for  the  law,  he  readily  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  literature.  Romance,  poetry,  and  history  were  more  attractive  to 
him  than  law  books. 

His  first  works  were  long  ballads  :  "  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel," 
"Marmion,"  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  "Don  Roderick,"  "  Rokeby," 
^'  Triermain,"  etc."  These  poems  were  received  with  rapturous  enthu- 
siasm, and  Scott  became  the  literary  lion  of  London  and  Edinburgh, 
In  picturesque  narrative  verse  Scott  has  never  been  surpassed. 

Later,  when  his  popularity  as  a  poet  declined,  he  turned  to  the  writing 
of  his  novels,  which  are  founded  upon  Scottish,  English,  and  continental 
history.     He  also  wrote  other  romances  that  may  be  called  "personal," 
being  founded  upon  life  or  family  legend.     These  deal,  for  the  most, 
part,  with  purely  Scottish  scenery  and  character. 

His  first  novel,  "Waverley,"  was  published  in  1814  without  the 
author's  name.  Many  readers,  however,  shrewdly  guessed  Scott's  secret. 
"Guy  Mannering,"  "  Old  Mortality,"  "Rob  Roy,"  "  The  Heart  of  Mid- 
lothian," "Ivanhoe,"  "  Kenil worth,"  etc.,  rapidly  followed  in  the  next 
seventeen  years,  till  his  novels  reached  twenty-nine  in  number,  forming 
the  series  of  wonderful  fictions  known  as  the  "  Waverley  Novels." 

In  1820  the  Crown  conferred  a  baronetcy  on  the  distinguished  author. 
'Five  years  later,  the  publishing  house  in  which,  some  years  before,  Scott 
had  become  a  partner,  failed,  and  with  its  downfall  the  novelist  became 
a  bankrupt.  The  firm's  liabilities  amounted  to  nearly  £150, 000.  Though 
overwhelmed  by  his  misfortune,  Scott  nobly  set  himself  to  make  good 
the  loss  to  the  creditors,  and  in  two  years  he  paid  off  £40,000.  The 
anxiety  and  increased  labor,  however,  cost  him  his  life,  for  in  1830  he 
had  a  stroke  of  paralysis,  and  though  he  lived  on  for  two  years  further, 
his  power  of  work  was  gone,  and  he  passed  away  at  his  loved  Abbots- 
ford,  on  the  31st  of  September,  1833.  His  remains  were  buried  in  Dry- 
burgh  Abbey. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


CANTO  FIEST. 

THE   CHASE. 

SUMMARY. 

A  huntsman  pursuing  a  stag  outstrips  his  comrades,  misses  his  quarry  (game),  loses  his 
horse,  and  wanders  to  the  shore  of  Loch  Katrine.  Hoping  to  find  help  near,  he  winds 
(blows)  his  horn.  In  response  to  the  summons,  a  skiff  rowed  by  a  maiden  appears.  Ex- 
pecting to  meet  her  father,  the  maiden  is  startled  at  seeing  a  stranger,  dressed  in  Lincoln 
green.  He  reassures  her,  and  she  offers  him  the  hospitality  of  her  father's  lodge.  To- 
gether they  row  to  the  island  near  at  hand,  where  the  mistress  of  the  lodge,  whom  the 
maiden  by  courtesy  calls  mother,  receives  the  guest  hospitably.  Here  the  stranger  spends 
the  night. 

The  rustic  home  on  the  island,  concealed  in  dense  woods,  is  the  hiding-place  in  which 
the  famous  outlaw  Eoderick  Dhu  sheltered  Lord  James  Douglas,  uncle  of  the  proscribed 
Earl  of  Angus  ;  Dame  Margaret  is  sister  in-law  of  the  Douglas,  and  mother  of  Roderick. 
Ellen  (the  "  Lady  of  the  Lake  "),  is  Lord  James's  daughter. 

Allan  Bane,  an  aged  minstrel,  who  had  prophetically  foretold  the  coming  of  the 
stranger,  attends  Ellen  and  her  father.  The  stranger  describes  himself  as  the  Knight  of 
Snowdoun,  James  Fitz-James,  but  fails  to  find  out  who  his  hosts  are.  In  his  dreams, 
after  retiring  for  the  night,  he  is  haunted  by  the  memories  of  the  exiled  Douglas  family. 
Cock-crow  in  the  morning  arouses  the  knight  from  his  slumbers,  and  brings  the  action 
of  the  first  canto  to  a  close. 

Harp  '  of  the  North  !  that  mouldering  long  hast  hung 
On  the  witch-elm  ^  that  shades  Saint  Fillan^s  ^  spring. 

And  down  the  fitful  breeze  thy  numbers  *  flung, 
Till  envious  ivy  did  around  thee  cling. 

Muffling  with  verdant  ringlet  ^  every  string,  — 

^  the  harp  was  the  ancient  musical  instru-  wych-elm,    from   Anglo-Saxon   tvican,    to 

ment  of  Scotland.    The  opening  stanzas,  in  bend. 

Spenserian  measure,   are  an  invocation  to  ^  Scotch  abbot  of  the  seventh  century, 

the  harp  as  the  emblem  of  Scottish  min-  ^  lines  of  poetry  (here,  however,  meaning 

strelsy.  music). 

2  the  drooping-elm.     Should  be  spelled  ^  clusterings  of  the  green  ivy. 


12  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [cANTO 

0  MinstreP  Harp,  still  must  thine  accents  sleep  ? 
^Mid  rustling  leaves  and  fountains  murmuring. 

Still  must  thy  sweeter  sounds  their  silence  keep, 
Nor  bid  a  warrior  smile,  nor  teach  a  maid  to  weep  ? 

Not  thus,  in  ancient  days  of  Caledon,^ 

Was  thy  voice  mute  amid  the  festal  crowd. 
When  lay  ^  of  hopeless  love,  or  glory  won. 

Aroused  the  fearful  or  subdued  the  proud. 
At  each  according"  pause  was  heard  aloud 

Thine  ardent  symphony  ^  sublime  and  high  ! 
Fair  dames  and  crested  '^  chiefs  attention  bowed  ; 

For  still  the  burden  of  thy  minstrelsy 
Was  Knighthood^s '  dauntless^  deed,  and  Beauty^s  matchless 
eye. 

0,  wake  once  more  !  how  rude  soever  the  hand 

That  ventures  o^er  thy  magic  maze  ^  to  stray ; 
0,  wake  once  more  !  though  scarce  my  skill  command 

Some  feeble  echoing  of  thine  earlier  lay  : 
Though  harsh  and  faint,  and  soon  to  die  away. 

And  all  unworthy  of  thy  nobler  strain. 
Yet  if  one  heart  throb  higher  at  its  sway, 

The  wizard '"  note  has  not  been  touched  in  vain. 
Then  silent  be  no  more  !     Enchantress/'  wake  again  ! 

1  minstrels  composed  and  sang  songs  re-  ''  a  knight  was  a  person  of  the  middle 
counting  the  valiant  deeds  of  their  enter-  ages  admitted  to  a  certain  military  rank  as 
tainers.  They  were  wandering  singers,  and  a  reward  for  brave  and  gallant  deeds, 
were  always  welcomed  wherever  they  Knights  took  certain  oaths  ;  among  others 
went.  that  they  would  succor  the  oppressed,  es- 

2  (Caledonia)  ancient  name  of  Scotland.  pecially  the  fair  sex. 

3  song.  8  brave. 

*  pause  in  the  lay  for  the  "accord,"  or  'a  winding  and  intricate  way.  (Here, 
harmonious  accompaniment,  of  the  harp.         metaphorically,   to  express  the    confusing 

5  stirring  music  with  which  the  minstrel    mass  of  harp-sounds.) 

filled  up  the  pauses  of  his  lay.  "  (used  here  as  an  adjective)  having  a 

6  ornamented  with  crest   or  heraldic  de-    wizard's  enchantment, 
vice,  borne  on  the  knight's  helmet.  ^  ^  Scottish  minstrelsy. 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  13 

I. 

The  stag  at  eve  had  drunk  his  fill. 

Where  danced  the  moon  on  Monan's  ^  rill. 

And  deep  his  midnight  lair^  had  made 

In  lone  Glenartney^s  ^  hazel  shade  ; 

But  when  the  sun  his  beacon*  red 

Had  kindled  on  Benvoirlich^s  ^  head. 

The  deep-mouthed  bloodhound^s  heavy  bay 

Resounded  up  the  rocky  way. 

And  faint,  from  farther  distance  borne. 

Were  heard  the  clanging  hoof  and  horn. 

II. 

As  Chief,  who  hears  his  warder  ^  call, 

'^To  arms  !  the  foemen  storm  the  wall,^^ 

The  antlered  monarch  of  the  waste 

Sprung  from  his  heathery  couch  in  haste. 

But  ere  his  fleet  career  he  took, 

The  dew-drops  from  his  flanks  he  shook  ; 

Like  crested  leader  proud  and  high 

Tossed  his  beamed  frontlet  ^  to  the  sky  ; 

A  moment  gazed  ad  own  the  dale, 

A  moment  snuffed  the  tainted  ^  gale, 

A  moment  listened  to  the  cry, 

That  thickened  as  the  chase  drew  nigh  ; 

Then,  as  the  headmost  foes  appeared. 

With  one  brave  bound  the  copse  ^  he  cleared. 

And,  stretching  forward  free  and  far, 

Sought  the  wild  heaths  of  Uam-Var.^" 

^  (Moina)   Scotch  martyr  of    the  fourth  ^  guard. 

century.    Location  of  rill  cannot  he  iden-  ''  antlered  forehead  of  stag.    The  beam  is 

tified.                      2  yfi\^  beast's  bed.  the  main  trunk  of  a  stag's  horn. 

3  valley  in  Perthshire  through  which  the  ^  the  wind  tainted  with  the  scent  of  his 

Artney,  a  small  stream,  flows.  pursuers. 

*  signal  fire.  »  woods  of  young  growth. 

*a  mountain   northwest  of  Glenartney.  ^^  (pjvn.  ua-var)  mountain  northeast  of 

Ben^  in  Gaelic,  signifies  mountain.  the  village  of  Callander  in  Monteith. 


14  THE   LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.  [canto 

III. 

Yelled  on  the  view  the  opening  pack  ;  ^ 
Eock,  glen^  and  cavern  paid  them  back ; 
To  many  a  mingled  sound  at  once 
The  awakened  mountain  gave  response. 
A  hundred  dogs  bayed  deep  and  strong, 
Clattered  a  hundred  steeds  along, 
Their  peal  the  merry  horns  rung  out, 
A  hundred  voices  joined  the  shout ; 
With  hark  and  whoop  and  wild  halloo, 
No  rest  Benvoirlich's  echoes  knew. 
Far  from  the  tumult  fled  the  roe, 
Close  in  her  covert  ^  cowered  the  doe. 
The  falcon,^  from  her  cairn*  on  high, 
Cast  on  the  rout  ^  a  wondering  eye, 
Till  far  beyond  her  piercing  ken  ^ 
The  hurricane  had  swept  the  glen. 
Faint,  and  more  faint,  its  falling  din 
Returned  from  cavern,  cliif,  and  linn,' 
And  silence  settled,  wide  and  still, 
On  the  lone  wood  and  mighty  hill. 

IV. 

Less  loud  the  sounds  of  sylvan  war  ® 
Disturbed  the  heights  of  Uam-Var, 
And  roused  the  cavern  where,  ^tis  told. 
A  giant  made  his  den  of  old  ; 
For  ere  that  steep  ascent  was  won. 
High  in  his  pathway  hung  the  sun, 
And  many  a  gallant,^  stayed  perforce, 

1  hunting  term  for  a  body  of  hounds.  *  penetrating    sight.    Ken  =  to  know  ;  a 

2  leafy  hiding-place.  Scotticism. 

3  ipron.  fawk'n)  hawk.  '  waterfall. 

4 heap  of  stones.  ^  war  in  the  woods  ;  i.e.,  the  stag-hunt. 

5  disorderly,  noisy  crowd.  *  (used  as  a  noun)  brave  person. 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  15 

Was  fain '  to  breathe "  his  faltering  horse, 
And  of  the  trackers  of  the  deer. 
Scarce  half  the  lessening  pack  was  near  ; 
So  shrewdly  ^  on  the  mountain-side 
Had  the  bold  burst "  their  mettle  tried. 

V. 

The  noble  stag  was  pausing  now 
Upon  the  mountain's  southern  brow, 
Where  broad  extended,  far  beneath. 
The  varied  realms  of  fair  Monteith/ 
With  anxious  eye  he  wandered  o'er 
Mountain  and  meadow,  moss  and  moor, 
And  pondered  refuge  from  his  toil, 
By  far  Lochard  '^  or  Aberfoyle/ 
But  nearer  was  the  copsewood  gray. 
That  waved  and  wept  on  Loch  Achray,^ 
And  mingled  with  the  pine-trees  blue 
On  the  bold  cliffs  of  Benvenue/ 
Fresh  vigor  with  the  hope  returned, 
AVith  flying  foot  the  heath  he  spurned. 
Held  westward  with  unwearied  race. 
And  left  behind  the  panting  chase. 

VI. 

'Twere  long^"  to  tell  what  steeds  gave  o'er. 
As  swept  the  hunt  through  Oambusmore  ;  " 
What  reins  were  tightened  in  despair, 
When  rose  Benledi's  '^  ridge  in  air  ; 

^  glad.  8  a  small  lake  at  the  foot  of  Benvenue. 

2  i.e.,  was  glad  to  give  his  faltering  horse  ^  "  Central  mountain  "  ;  midway  between 
an  opportunity  to  breathe.  Ben  Lomond  and  Ben  Ledi. 

3  severely  ;  harmfully  (obsolete  sense).  i°note  elliptical  expression  for  "  It  were  a 

4  hard  run.  long  story  to  tell,"  etc. 

5  district  watered  by  the  Teith.  1 1  an  estate  near  Callander. 

*  small  lake  near  the  village  of  Aberfoyle.         12  ^  mountain  northwest  of  Callander. 
"'  a  village  on  the  Forth,  near  the  east  end  of  Lochard. 


16  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Who  flagged  upon  Bochastle^s '  lieath. 
Who  shunned  to  stem  the  flooded  Teith/ — 
For  twice  that  day^  from  shore  to  shore. 
The  gallant  stag  swam  stoutly  o^er. 
Few  were  the  stragglers,  following  far. 
That  reached  the  lake  of  Vennachar  ;  ^ 
And  when  the  Brigg  *  of  Turk  was  won. 
The  headmost  horseman  rode  alone. 

VII. 

Alone,  but  with  unbated  zeal. 

That  horseman  plied  the  scourge  ^  and  steel ;  ^ 

For,  jaded  ^  now,  and  spent  with  toil. 

Embossed^  with  foam,  and  dark  with  soil. 

While  every  gasp  with  sobs  he  drew. 

The  laboring  stag  strained  ^  full  in  view. 

Two  dogs  of  black  Saint  Hubert's  "  breed. 

Unmatched  for  courage,  breath,  and  speed. 

Fast  on  his  flying  traces  came. 

And  all  but  won  that  desperate  game  ; 

For,  scarce  a  spear's  length  from  his  haunch. 

Vindictive  "  toiled  the  bloodhounds  stanch  ; " 

Nor  nearer  might  the  dogs  attain, 

Nor  farther  might  the  quarry  "  strain. 

Thus  up  the  margin  of  the  lake. 

Between  the  precipice  and  brake,^^ 

O'er  stock  ^^  and  rock  their  race  they  take. 

1  a  moorland  between  tlae  east  end   of        ^  exhausted. 

Loch  Ye'nnachar  and  Callander.  s  ornamented,   as    in   relief  work,   with 

2  (see  map)  flows  into  the  Forth.    As  it    froth  and  foam. 

drained  several  lakes,  it  was  liable  to  over-  ^  approached  with  painful  effort. 

flow  its  banks  in  rainy  seasons.  i^a  noted  hunter  and  abbot,  after  whom 

3  one  of  the  three  lakes  around  which  the  a  breed  of  hounds  of  various  colors,  gen- 
scenery  of  the  poem  lies.  erally  black,  was  named. 

4  old  stone  bridge  over  the  Turk,  a  small  "  revengeful. 

stream  flowing  through   Glenfinlas  valley  ^^  ^yitii  qualities  of  endurance, 

(locally  known  as  the  "Bridge  of  the  Wild  i3  any  hunted  animal. 

Boar  ").  "  1*  stretch  of  heather  land  or  Avild  bush, 

s  whip.  «spur.  15  stumps  and  roots  of  trees. 


I.]  THE    CHASE.  17 

VIII. 

The  Hunter  marked  that  mountain '  high. 
The  lone  lakers  western  boundary. 
And  deemed  the  stag  must  turn  to  bay, 
Where  that  huge  rampart  ^  barred  the  way  ; 
Already  glorying  in  the  prize. 
Measured  his  antlers  with  his  eyes  ; 
For  the  death-wound  and  death-halloo 
Mustered  his  breath,  his  whinyard  ^  drew  : — 
But  thundering  as  he  came  prepared. 
With  ready  arm  and  weapon  bared, 
The  wily  quarry  shunned  the  shock, 
And  turned  him  from  the  opposing  rock  ; 
Then,  dashing  down  a  darksome  glen. 
Soon  lost  to  hound  and  Hunter's  ken. 
In  the  deep  Trosachs'*  wildest  nook 
His  solitary  refuge  took. 
There,  while  close  couched,  the  thicket  shed 
Cold  dews  and  wild  flowers  on  his  head. 
He  heard  the  baffled  dogs  in  vain 
Eave  through  the  hollow  pass  amain, ^ 
Chiding  ^  the  rocks  that  yelled  again. 

IX. 

Close  on  the  hounds  the  Hunter  came. 
To  cheer  them  on  the  vanished  game  ; 
But,  stumbling  in  the  rugged  dell. 
The  gallant  horse  exhausted  fell. 
The  impatient  rider  strove  in  vain 
To  rouse  him  with  the  spur  and  rein. 
For  the  good  steed,  his  labors  o'er. 
Stretched  his  stiff  limbs,  to  rise  no  more  ; 

'  Ben-an,  to  the  northwest  of  Loch  Achray.        ^  with  vigor  ;  violently. 

2  barrier  ;  obstruction.    Here,  Ben-an.  "applied  to  the  noisy  echoes,  from  the 

3  large  hunting-knife.  rocks,  of  the  dogs'  barkings. 
*  the  region  around  Lochs  Katrine,  Achray,  and  Vennacher. 

2 


18  THE   LADY    OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Then,  touclied  with  pity  and  remorse. 
He  sorrowed  o^er  the  expiring  horse. 
^'  I  little  thought,  when  first  thy  rein 
I  slacked  upon  the  banks  of  Seine/ 
That  Highland  eagle  e^er  should  feed 
On  thy  fleet  limbs,  my  matchless  steed  ! 
Woe  ^  worth  the  chase,  woe  worth  the  day. 
That  costs  thy  life,  my  gallant  gray  !  '^^ 

X. 

Then  through  the  dell  his  horn  resounds. 
From  vain  pursuit  to  call  the  hounds. 
Back  limped,  with  slow  and  crippled  pace. 
The  sulky  leaders  of  the  chase  ; 
Close  to  their  master^s  side  they  pressed. 
With  drooping  tail  and  humbled  crest ; 
But  still  the  dingle^s  ^  hollow  throat 
Prolonged  the  swelling  bugle-note. 
The  owlets  started  from  their  dream. 
The  eagles  answered  with  their  scream, 
Eound  and  around  the  sounds  were  cast. 
Till  echo  seemed  an  answering  blast  ; 
And  on  the  Hunter  hied  *  his  way. 
To  join  some  comrades  of  the  day. 
Yet  often  paused,  so  strange  the  road. 
So  wondrous  were  the  scenes  it  showed, 

XI. 

The  western  waves  of  ebbing  day  ^ 
Eolled  o'er  the  glen  their  level  way  ; 
Each  purple  peak,  each  flinty  spire, 
Was  bathed  in  floods  of  living  fire. 

1  a  river  in  Northern  France,  on  which        3  narrow  valley  between  hills. 
Paris  is  situated.  ^  hastened, 

2  i.e.,  evil  be  to  the  chase  (worth  is  in  the        ^  note  the  exquisite   beauty  of  this  de- 
imperative  mood  ;  chase  and  day  are  in  the     scription  of  the  closing  day  and  the  scene, 
objective  case,  object  of  preposition  to,  understood). 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  19 

But  not  a  setting  beam  could  glow 
Within  the  dark  ravines  '  below. 
Where  twined  the  path  in  shadow  hid, 
Eound  many  a  rocky  pyramid. 
Shooting  abruptly  from  the  dell 
Its  thunder-splintered  pinnacle  ; 
Eound  many  an  insulated  '  mass. 
The  native  bulwarks  ^  of  the  pass. 
Huge  as  the  tower  which  builders  vain 
Presumptuous  *  piled  on  Shinar's  ^  plain. 
The  rocky  summits,  split  and  rent. 
Formed  turret/  dome,  or  battlement,^ 
Or  seemed  fantastically  set 
With  cupola  ^  or  minaret,^ 
Wild  crests  as  pagod  "  ever  decked. 
Or  mosque  of  Eastern  architect. 
Nor  were  these  earth-born  castles  bare, 
Nor  lacked  they  many  a  banner  fair  ; 
For,  from  their  shivered  brows  displayed. 
Far  o'er  the  unfathomable  glade, ^^ 
All  twinkling  with  the  dewdrop  sheen,  ^^ 
The  brier-rose  fell  in  streamers  green. 
And  creeping  shrubs  of  thousand  dyes 
Waved  in  the  west-wind's  summer  sighs. 

XII. 

Boon  ^^  nature  scattered,  free  and  wild. 
Each  plant  or  flower,  the  mountain's  child. 
Here  eglantine  ^*  embalmed  the  air. 
Hawthorn  and  hazel  mingled  there  ; 

1  narrow,  deep  hollows.  «  dome-like  vault  on  top  of  building. 

2  standing    alone  ;    detatclied   from   the        »  slender  turret  on  Mohammedan  mosque, 
mountain  side.  lo  (pagoda),  heathen  temple,  or  idol-house. 

3  natural  defences.  *  over  confident.         1 1  opening  through  a  wood,  through  which 
s  read  account  of   the    building   of   the    the  light  may  come. 

Tower  of  Babel,  in  Gen.  xi.  1-9.  12  glittering  (here  an  adjective). 

"  email  tower.  is  (adjective)  bounteous. 

'' wall  surrounding  the  top  of  a  castle.  1^  sweet-brier. 


20  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

The  primrose  pale  and  violet  flower 
Found  in  each  cleft  a  narrow  bower  ; 
Foxglove  and  nightshade,  side  by  side. 
Emblems  of  punishment  and  pride. 
Grouped  their  dark  hues  with  every  stain 
The  weather-beaten  crags  retain. 
With  bouglis  that  quaked  at  every  breath. 
Gray  birch  and  aspen '  wept  beneath  ; 
Aloft,  the  ash  and  warrior  oak 
Cast  anchor  in  the  rifted  rock  ; 
And,  higher  yet,  the  pine-tree  hung 
His  shattered  trunk,  and  frequent  flung. 
Where  seemed  the  cliffs  to  meet  on  high. 
His  boughs  athwart  ^  the  narrowed  sky. 
Highest  ^  of  all,  where  white  peaks  glanced. 
Where  glistening  streamers  *  waved  and  danced. 
The  wanderer's  eye  could  barely  view 
The  summer  heaven's  delicious  blue  ; 
So  wondrous  wild,  the  whole  might  seem 
The  scenery  of  a  fairy  dream. 

XIII. 

Onward,  amid  the  copse  'gan  peep 
A  narrow  inlet,  still  and  deep. 
Affording  scarce  such  breadth  of  brim 
As  served  the  wild  duck's  brood  to  swim. 
Lost  for  a  space,  through  thickets  veering,* 
But  broader  when  again  appearing. 
Tall  rocks  and  tufted  knolls  their  face 
Could  on  the  dark-blue  mirror  trace  ; 
And  farther  as  the  Hunter  strayed. 
Still  broader  sweep  its  channels  made. 

1  poplar-tree,  whose  leaves  quiver  vi'ith  the        ^  note  the  climax  in  this  description. 
slightest  breeze.  *  flag -like  branches  of  the  rose  and  ivy. 

2  against.  ^  winding. 


I.]  THE    CHASE.  21 

The  shaggy  mounds  no  longer  stood, 
Emerging  from  entangled  wood. 
But,  wave-encircled,  seemed  to  float. 
Like  castle  girdled  with  its  moat  ;  ^ 
Yet  broader  floods  extending  still 
Divide  them  from  their  parent  hill. 
Till  each,  retiring,  claims  to  be 
An  islet  in  an  inland  sea. 

XIV. 

And  now,  to  issue  from  the  glen, 

No  pathway  meets  the  wanderer^s  ken. 

Unless  he  climb  ^  with  footing  nice 

A  far-projecting  precipice. 

The  broom^s  ^  tough  roots  his  ladder  made, 

The  hazel  saplings  lent  their  aid  ; 

And  thus  an  airy  point  he  won, 

Where,  gleaming  with  the  setting  sun. 

One  burnished  sheet  of  living  gold. 

Loch  Katrine  *  lay  beneath  him  rolled, 

In  all  her  length  far  winding  lay. 

With  promontory,  creek,  and  bay. 

And  islands  that,  empurpled  bright. 

Floated  amid  the  livelier  light. 

And  mountains  that  like  giants  stand 

To  sentinal  enchanted  land. 

High  on  the  south,  huge  Benvenue 

Down  to  the  lake  in  masses  threw 

Crags,  knolls,  and  mounds,  confusedly  hurled. 

The  fragments  of  an  earlier  world  ; 

A  wildering  forest  feathered  o'er 

His  ruined  sides  and  summit  hoar,^ 

1  a  ditch  for  defence  around  a  castle.  ■•  a  lake  about  eight  miles  long  and  two 

2  note  the  use  of  the  subjunctive  mood.         miles  wide  (see  map). 

3  a  wild  brambly  shrub.  ^  white. 


22  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

While  on  the  north,  through  middle  air, 
Ben-an  heaved  high  his  forehead  bare. 

XV. 

From  the  steep  promontory  gazed 

The  stranger,  raptured  and  amazed. 

And,  ^*  What  a  scene  were  ^  here,"  he  cried, 

^'  For  princely  pomp  or  churchman^s  "^  pride  ! 

On  this  bold  brow,  a  lordly  tower  ; 

In  that  soft  vale,  a  lady^s  bower  ; 

On  yonder  meadow  far  away 

The  turrets  of  a  cloister  ^  gray ; 

How  blithely  "  might  the  bugle-horn 

Chide  on  the  lake  the  lingering  morn  ! 

How  sweet  at  eve  the  lover's  lute 

Chime  when  the  groves  were  still  and  mute  ! 

And  when  the  midnight  moon  should  lave  ^ 

Her  forehead  in  the  silver  wave. 

How  solemn  on  the  ear  would  come 

The  holy  matins'  ^  distant  hum, 

While  the  deep  peal's  commanding  tone 

Should  wake,  in  yonder  islet  lone, 

A  sainted  hermit  from  his  cell, 

To  drop  a  bead  ^  with  every  knell  ! 

And  bugle,  lute,  and  bell,  and  all, 

Should  each  bewildered  stranger  call 

To  friendly  feast  and  lighted  hall. 

XVI. 

''  Blithe  were  it  then  to  wander  here  ! 
But  now — beshrew  ®  yon  nimble  deer  ! — 

1  subjunctive  mood,  to  denote  condition.  ^  bathe. 

2  abbot,  prior,  or  other  dignitary  of  the        e  mormng  prayers. 

church.  "  '^  as  a  record  of  prayers  recited. 

3  secluded  place,  as  convent  or  monastery.        ^  may  ill  happen  to    (invoking  a  curse 

4  in  a  joyful  manner.  on). 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  23 

Like  that  same  hermit\  thin  and  spare. 
The  copse  must  give  my  ev-ening  fare  ; 
Some  mossy  bank  my  couch  must  be. 
Some  rustling  oak  my  canopy.  ^ 
Yet  pass  we  that  ;  the  war  and  chase 
Give  little  choice  of  resting-place  ; — 
A  summer  night  in  greenwood  spent 
Were  but  to-morrow's  merriment  : 
But  hosts  may  in  these  wilds  abound. 
Such  as  are  better  missed  than  found  ; 
To  meet  with  Highland  plunderers  ^  here 
Were  worse  than  loss  of  steed  or  deer. — 
I  am  alone  ;  my  bugle-strain 
May  call  some  straggler  of  the  train  ; 
Or,  fall  the  worst  that  may  betide,^ 
Ere  now  this  falchion "  has  been  tried.'' 

XVII. 

But  scarce  again  his  horn  he  wound. 

When  lo  !  forth  starting  at  the  sound. 

From  underneath  an  aged  oak 

That  slanted  from  the  islet  rock, 

A  damsel  ^  guider  of  its  way, 

A  little  skiff  shot  to  the  bay. 

That  round  the  promontory  steep 

Led  its  deep  line  in  graceful  sweep, 

Eddying,  in  almost  viewless  wave, 

The  weeping  willow  twig  to  lave. 

And  kiss,  with  whispering  sound  and  slow. 

The  beach  of  pebbles  bright  as  snow. 

The  boat  had  touched  this  silver  strand  ® 

Just  as  the  Hunter  left  his  stand, 

1  overhead  covering.  3  if  the  worst  should  happen. 

2  the  dwellers    of  this    romantic    region  ^  short  sword,  slightly  curved, 
considered  it  honorable  to  plunder  their  ^  g^ppiy  "  being  "  after  damsel. 
Lowland  neighbors.  «  ghore. 


24  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

And  stood  concealed  amid  the  brake. 

To  view  this  Lad}^  of  the  Lake. 

The  maiden  paused,  as  if  again 

She  thought  to  catch  the  distant  strain. 

With  head  upraised,  and  look  intent. 

And  eye  and  ear  attentive  bent, 

And  locks  flung  back,  and  lips  apart. 

Like  monument  ^  of  Grecian  art. 

In  listening  mood,  she  seemed  to  stand. 

The  guardian  Naiad  ^  of  the  strand. 

XYIII.  * 

And  ne^er  did  Grecian  chisel  trace 

A  Nymph,  ^  a  Naiad,  or  a  Grace,  * 

Of  finer  form  or  lovelier  face  ! 

What  though  the  sun,  with  ardent  frown, 

Had  slightly  tinged  her  cheek  with  brown, — 

The  sportive  toil,  which,  short  and  light. 

Had  dyed  her  glowing  hue  so  bright. 

Served  too  in  hastier  swell  to  show 

Short  glimpses  of  a  breast  of  snow  : 

What  though  no  rule  of  courtly  grace 

To  measured  mood  ^  had  trained  her  pace, — 

A  foot  more  light,  a  step  more  true, 

Ne^er  from  the  heath-flower  dashed  the  dew  ;. 

E^en  the  slight  harebell  raised  its  head. 

Elastic  from  her  airy  tread  : 

What  though  upon  her  speech  there  hung 

The  accents  of  the  mountain  tongue, — 

Those  silver  sounds,  so  soft-  so  dear. 

The  listener  held  his  breath  to  hear  ! 

1  statue.  ■*  the  Graces  were  beautiful  female  attend- 

2  {rM'yaoC)  water-goddess,  presiding  over     ants  of  Venus,  the  goddess  of  love, 
rivers  and  springs.  ^  studied  behavior. 

3  goddess  of  the  mountains,  forests,  meadows,  or  waters. 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  25 

XIX. 

A  chieftain's  daughter  seemeci  the  maid  ; 

Her  satin  snood/  her  silken  plaid/ 

Her  golden  brooch/  such  birth  betrayed. 

And  seldom  was  a  snood  amid 

Such  wild  luxuriant  ringlets  hid, 

Whose  glossy  black  to  shame  might  bring 

The  plumage  of  the  raven's  wing  ; 

And  seldom  o'er  a  breast  so  fair 

Mantled  a  plaid  with  modest  care. 

And  never  brooch  the  folds  combined 

Above  a  heart  more  good  and  kind. 

Her  kindness  and  her  worth  to  spy. 

You  need  but  gaze  on  Ellen's  eye  ; 

Not  Katrine  in  her  mirror  blue 

Gives  back  the  shaggy  banks  more  true, 

Than  every  free-born  glance  confessed 

The  guileless  *  movements  of  her  breast ; 

Whether  joy  danced  in  her  dark  eye. 

Or  woe  or  pity  claimed  a  sigh. 

Or  filial  love  was  glowing  there. 

Or  meek  devotion  poured  a  prayer, 

Or  tale  of  injury  called  forth 

The  indignant  spirit  of  the  North. 

One  only  passion  unrevealed 

With  maiden  pride  the  maid  concealed. 

Yet  not  less  purely  felt  the  flame ; — 

0,  need  I  tell  that  passion's  name  ? 

XX. 

Impatient  of  the  silent  horn, 

Now  on  the  gale  her  voice  was  borne  : — 

1  the  ribbon  with  which  Scottish  maidens        ^  ornament  for  fastening  the  folds  of  the 
bound  up  their  hair.  plaid. 

2  a  tartan  wrap  for  the  shoulders.  *  free  from  deceit. 


26  THE   LADY    OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

''  Father  !  "  slie  cried  ;  the  rocks  around 
Loved  to  prolong  the  gentle  sound. 
Awhile  she  paused,  no  answer  came  ; — 
''  Malcolm,  was  thine  the  blast  ?  "  the  name 
Less  resolutely  uttered  fell. 
The  echoes  could  not  catch  the  swell. 
'^'^A  stranger  1,"  the  Huntsman  said, 
Advancing  from  the  hazel  shade. 
The  maid,  alarmed,  with  hasty  oar 
Pushed  her  light  shallop  from  the  shore. 
And  when  a  space  was  gained  between. 
Closer  she  drew  her  bosom^s  screen  ;  — 
So  forth  the  startled  swan  would  swing. 
So  turn  to  prune  ^  his  ruffled  wing. 
Then  safe,  though  fluttered  and  amazed. 
She  paused,  and  on  the  stranger  gazed. 
ISTot  his  the  form,  nor  his  the  eye. 
That  youthful  maidens  wont  ^  to  fly. 

XXI. 

On  his  bold  visage  ^  middle  age 
Had  slightly  pressed  its  signet  sage,"* 
Yet  had  not  quenched  the  open  truth 
And  fiery  vehemence  ^  of  youth  ; 
Forward  and  frolic  glee  was  there, 
The  will  to  do,  the  soul  to  dare. 
The  sparkling  glance,  soon  blown  to  fire. 
Of  hasty  love  or  headlong  ire.® 
His  limbs  were  cast  in  manly  mould 
For  hardy  sports  or  contest  bold  ; 
And  though  in  peaceful  garb  ^  arrayed. 
And  weaponless  except  his  blade, 

1  deck  or  trim  the  feathers.  ■*  mark  or  impress  of  wisdom. 

'^  are  accustomed.  ^  forceful  rashness. 

3  countenance,  ^  wrath,  '  dress. 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  27 

His  stately  mien  ^  as  well  implied 

A  high-born  hearty  a  martial  pride. 

As  if  a  baron^s  crest  he  wore^, 

And  sheathed  in  armor  trode  the  shore. 

Slighting  the  petty  need  ^  he  showed. 

He  told  of  his  benighted  ^  road  ; 

His  ready  speech  flowed  fair  and  free, 

In  phrase  of  gentlest  courtesy. 

Yet  seemed  that  tone  and  gesture  bland 

Less  used  to  sue  than  to  command. 

XXII. 

Awhile  the  maid  the  stranger  eyed, 
And,  reassured,  at  length  replied. 
That  Highland  halls  were  open  still 
To  wildered  *  wanderers  of  the  hill. 
''  Nor  think  you  unexpected  come 
To  yon  lone  isle,  our  desert  home  ; 
Before  the  heath  had  lost  the  dew. 
This  morn,  a  couch  was  pulled  for  you  ; 
On  yonder  mountain's  purple  head 
Have  ptarmigan^  and  heath-cock  ^  bled, 
And  our  broad  nets  have  swept  the  mere,^ 
To  furnish  forth  your  evening  cheer.''  — 
"  Now,  by  the  rood,^  my  lovely  maid. 
Your  courtesy  has  erred,"  he  said  ; 
^'  No  right  have  I  to  claim,  misplaced. 
The  welcome  of  expected  guest. 
A  wanderer,  here  by  fortune  tost. 
My  way,  my  friends,  my  courser  lost, 
I  ne'er  before,  believe  me.  Fair, 
Have  ever  drawn  your  mountain  air, 

1  carriage  and  bearing.  ^  lost  (bewildered).  '  lake. 

3  food  and  shelter.  ^  white  grouse.  ^  -wooden  cross. 

3  overtaken  by  night.  ^  black  grouse. 


28  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Till  on  this  lakers  romantic  strand 
I  found  a  f aj  ^  in  fairy  land  l'^  — 

XXIII. 

"  I  well  believe/'  the  maid  replied. 

As  her  light  skiff  approached  the  side,  — 

'^  I  well  believe,  that  ne'er  before 

Your  foot  has  trod  Loch  Katrine's  shore  ; 

But  yet,  as  far  as  yesternight. 

Old  Allan-bane  foretold  your  plight,^  — 

A  gray-haired  sire,  whose  eye  intent 

"Was  on  the  visioned  future  ^  bent. 

He  saw  your  steed,  a  dappled  gray, 

Lie  dead  beneath  the  birchen  way  ; 

Painted  exact  your  form  and  mien,* 

Your  hunting-suit  of  Lincoln  green,* 

That  tasselled  horn  so  gayly  gilt. 

That  falchion's  crooked  blade  and  hilt. 

That  cap  with  heron  ^  plumage  trim. 

And  yon  two  hounds  so  dark  and  grim. 

He  bade  that  all  should  ready  be 

To  grace  a  guest  of  fair  degree  ; 

But  light  I  held  his  prophecy, 

And  deemed  it  was  my  father's  horn 

Whose  echoes  o'er  the  lake  were  borne." 

XXIV. 

The  stranger  smiled  : — "  Since  to  your  home 
A  destined  errant-knight  ^  I  come. 
Announced  by  prophet  sooth  ®  and  old. 
Doomed,  doubtless,  for  achievement  bold, 

1  elf  or  fairy.              2  g^d  circumstances.  "  a  wading  bird,  with  long  bill,  neck,  and 

3  the  forecast  of  a  seer,  having  the  power  legs, 

of  reading  the  future.   *  look  ;  countenance.  ''  one  wandering  in  search  of  adventure. 

5  cloth  formerly  made    in    Lincoln,  and  ^  true, 
worn  by  the  huntsmen  of  the  Lowlands. 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  29 

ril  lightly  front  ^  each  high  emprise  ^ 

For  one  kind  glance  of  those  bright  eyes. 

Permit  me  first  the  task  to  guide 

Your  fairy  frigate^  o^er  the  tide."*^ 

The  maid^  with  smile  suppressed  and  sly. 

The  toil  unwonted  saw  him  try  ; 

For  seldom,  sure,  if  e^er  before. 

His  noble  hand  had  grasped  an  oar  : 

Yet  with  main  strength  his  strokes  he  drew. 

And  o'er  the  lake  the  shallop  flew  ; 

With  heads  erect  and  whimpering  cry, 

The  hounds  behind  their  passage  ply. 

Nor  frequent  does  the  bright  oar  break 

The  darkening  mirror  of  the  lake. 

Until  the  rocky  isle "  they  reach. 

And  moor  their  shallop  on  the  beach. 

XXV. 

The  stranger  viewed  the  shore  around  ; 
■'Twas  all  so  close  with  copsewood  bound, 
Nor  track  nor  pathway  might  declare 
That  human  foot  frequented  there, 
Until  the  mountain  maiden  showed 
A  clambering  unsuspected  road. 
That  winded  through  the  tangled  screen. 
And  opened  on  a  narrow  green, 
Where  weeping  birch  and  willow  round 
With  their  long  fibres  swept  the  ground. 
Here,  for  retreat  in  dangerous  hour,^ 
Some  chief  had  framed  a  rustic  bower. 

XXVI. 

It  was  a  lodge  of  ample  size. 

But  strange  of  structure  and  device  ;  ^ 

*  face.  2  enterprise.  *  Ellen's  Isle,  at  the  foot  of  Loch  Kat- 

8  ship  of  war  ;  here,  a  mere  skiff.    This     rine.  ^  when  exposed  to  peril, 

use  of  the  word  has  become  obsolete.  ^  design. 


80  THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Of  such  materials  as  around 

The  workman^s  hand  had  readiest  found. 

Lopped  of  their  boughs,  their  hoar  trunks  bared. 

And  by  the  hatchet  rudely  squared, 

To  give  the  walls  their  destined  ^  height. 

The  sturdy  oak  and  ash  unite  ; 

While  moss  and  clay  and  leaves  combined 

To  fence  each  crevice  from  the  wind. 

The  lighter  pine-trees  overhead 

Their  slender  length  for  rafters  spread. 

And  withered  heath  and  rushes  dry 

Supplied  a  russet  canopy. 

Due  westward,  fronting  to  the  green, 

A  rural  portico  "^  was  seen. 

Aloft  on  native  pillars  borne. 

Of  mountain  fir  with  bark  unshorn. 

Where  Ellen's  hand  had  taught  to  twine 

The  ivy  and  Idaean  ^  vine. 

The  clematis,  the  favored  flower 

Which  boasts  the  name  of  virgin -bower. 

And  every  hardy  plant  could  bear 

Loch  Katrine's  keen  and  searching  air. 

An  instant  in  this  porch  she  stayed. 

And  gayly  to  the  stranger  said  : 

^'^  On  heaven  and  on  thy  lady  *  call. 

And  enter  the  enchanted  hall  !  " 


J  desired  ;  determined.  fair  sex  in  general.    It  was  essential  to  his 

2  porch  entrance.  character  that  he  shonld  select,  as  his  proper 

3  red  whortleberry.  choice,  '  a  lady  and  a  love,'  to  be  the  polar 

4  Scott  says,  in  his  "  Essay  on  Chivalry  " :  star  of  his  thoughts,  the  mistress  of  his 
"  Their  oath  bound  the  new-made  knights  affections,  and  the  directress  of  his  actions. 
to  defend  the  cause  of  all  women  without  In  her  service  he  was  to  observe  the  duties 
exception ;  and  the  most  pressing  way  of  of  loyalty,  faith,  secrecy,  and  reverence, 
conjuring  them  to  grant  a  boon,  was  to  im-  Without  such  an  empress  of  his  heart,  a 
plore  it  in  the  name  of  God  and  the  ladies,  knight,  in  the  phrase  of  the  times,  was  a 
But  it  was  not  enough  that  the  '  very  per-  ship  without  a  rudder ,  a  horse  without 
feet,  gentle  knight,'  should  reverence  the  a  bridle,  a  sword  without  a  hilt." 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  31 

XXY.U. 

^'  My  hope,  my  heayen,  my  trust  must  be. 

My  gentle  guide,  in  following  thee  ! " — 

He  crossed  the  threshold, — and  a  clang 

Of  angry  steel  that  instant  rang. 

To  his  bold  brow  his  spirit  rushed, 

But  soon  for  vain  alarm  he  blushed. 

When  on  the  floor  he  saw  displayed, 

Cause  of  the  din,  a  naked  blade 

Dropped  from  the  sheath,  that  careless  flung 

Upon  a  stages  huge  antlers  swung  ; 

For  all  around,  the  walls  to  grace. 

Hung  trophies  ^  of  the  fight  or  chase  : 

A  target  ^  there,  a  bugle  here, 

A  battle-axe,  a  hunting-spear. 

And  broadswords,  bows,  and  arrows  store. 

With  the  tusked  trophies  of  the  boar. 

Here  grins  the  wolf  as  when  he  died. 

And  there  the  wild-cat's  brindled  hide 

The  frontlet  of  the  elk  adorns. 

Or  mantles  o'er  the  bison's  horns  ; 

Pennons  ^  and  flags  defaced  and  stained. 

That  blackening  streaks  of  blood  retained. 

And  deer-skins,  dappled,  dun,*  and  white. 

With  otter's  fur  and  seal's  unite. 

In  rude  and  uncouth  ^  tapestry  all. 

To  garnish  ^  forth  the  sylvan  ^  hall. 

XXVIII. 

The  wondering  stranger  round  him  gazed, 
And  next  the  fallen  weapon  raised  : — 

1  things  taken  as  a  memorial  of  victory.  ^  rough  ;  shaggy. 

2  small  shield  used  for  defence  in  war.  ^  decorate,  or  adorn. 

^  banners.  4  dark  brown.  '''  pertaining  to  the  woods. 


32  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Few  were  the  arms  whose  sinewy  strength 

Sufficed  to  stretch  it  forth  at  length. 

And  as  the  brand  he  poised  ^  and  swayed, 

^'  I  never  knew  but  one/^  he  said, 

*^  Whose  stalwart  arm  might  brook  ^  to  wield 

A  blade  like  this  in  battle-field/^ 

She  sighed,  then  smiled  and  took  the  word  : 

''  You  see  the  guardian  champion's  sword  ; 

As  light  it  trembles  in  his  hand 

As  in  my  grasp  a  hazel  wand  : 

My  sire's  tall  form  might  grace  the  part 

Of  Ferragus  ^  or  Ascabart/ 

But  in  the  absent  giant's  hold 

Are  women  now,  and  menials  *  old." 

XXIX. 

The  mistress  of  the  mansion  came. 

Mature  of  age,  a  graceful  dame. 

Whose  easy  step  and  stately  port  ^ 

Had  well  become  a  princely  court, 

To  whom,  though  more  than  kindred  knew. 

Young  Ellen  gave  a  mother's  due/ 

Meet  ^  welcome  to  her  guest  she  made. 

And  every  courteous  rite  ®  was  paid 

That  hospitality  could  claim, 

Though  all  unasked  ^  his  birth  and  name. 

Such  then  the  reverence  to  a  guest, 

That  fellest  '"  foe  might  join  the  feast. 

And  from  his  deadliest  foeman^s  door 

Unquestioned  turn,  the  banquet  o^er. 

1  balanced.  to  her  aunt  the  love  due  to  a  mother.    The 

2  endure.  aunt  was  Roderick  Dhu's  mother. 

3  fabled  giants  of  enormous  strength.  ''  fit ;  proper.                      ^  ceremony. 

4  servants.  ®  The  Highlanders  considered  it  impolite 
6  carriage  of  body  (deportment).  to  ask  a  stranger's  name  before  he  had 
6  Ellen's  mother  was  dead  ;  but  she  gave  taken  refreshment.               i°  cruelest. 


I.]  THE    CHASE.  33 

At  length  his  rank  the  stranger  names, 

^^The  Knight  of  Snowdoun/  James  Fitz-James ; 

Lord  of  a  barren  heritage, 

AVhich  his  brave  sires,  from  age  to  age, 

By  their  good  swords  had  held  with  toil. 

His  sire  had  fallen  in  such  turmoil. 

And  he,  God  wot,^  was  forced  to  stand 

Oft  for  his  right  with  blade  in  hand. 

This  morning  with  Lord  Moray^s  train 

He  chased  a  stalwart  stag  in  vain. 

Outstripped  his  comrades,  missed  the  deer. 

Lost  his  good  steed,  and  wandered  here. " 

XXX. 

Fain  would  the  Knight  in  turn  require 

The  name  and  state  of  Ellen^s  sire. 

Well  showed  the  elder  lady^s  mien 

That  courts  and  cities  she  had  seen  ; 

Ellen,  though  more  her  looks  displayed 

The  simple  grace  of  sylvan  maid, 

In  speech  and  gesture,  form  and  face, 

Showed  she  was  come  of  gentle  race. 

'Twas  strange  in  ruder  rank  to  find 

Such  looks,  such  manners,  and  such  mind. 

Each  hint  the  Knight  of  Snowdoun  gave. 

Dame  Margaret  heard  with  silence  grave ; 

Or  Ellen,  innocently  gay. 

Turned  all  inquiry  light  away  :- — 

''  Weird  ^  women  we  !  by  dale  and  down  * 

We  dwell,  afar  from  tower  and  town. 

We  stem  the  flood,  we  ride  the  blast. 

On  wandering  knights  our  spells  we  cast ; 

gifted     with     supernatural 


1  the  name  applied  by  early  chroniclers  to 

3  uncanny 

Stirling  Castle. 

powers. 

2  knows. 

4  hill. 

34  THE  LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

While  viewless  minstrels  touch  the  string, 
^Tis  thus  our  charmed  rhymes  we  sing/^ 
She  sung,  and  still  a  harp  unseen 
Filled  up  the  symphony  ^  between. 

XXXI. 

SONG, 

^'  Soldier,  rest  !  thy  warfare  o^er. 

Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  not  breaking  ; 
Dream  of  battled  fields  no  more, 

Days  of  danger,  nights  of  waking. 
In  our  islets  enchanted  hall. 

Hands  unseen  thy  couch  are  strewing. 
Fairy  strains  of  music  fall, 

Every  sense  in  slumber  dewing. 
Soldier,  rest  !  thy  warfare  o^er, 
Dream  of  fighting  fields  no  more  ; 
Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  not  breaking. 
Morn  of  toil,  nor  night  of  waking. 

'^No  rude  sound  shall  reach  thine  ear, 

Armor^s  clang  or  war-steed  champing. 
Trump  nor  pibroch  ^  summon  here 

Mustering  clan  or  squadron  ^  tramping. 
Yet  the  lark's  shrill  fife  may  come 

At  the  daybreak  from  the  fallow,* 
And  the  bittern  ^  sound  his  drum. 

Booming  from  the  sedgy  ^  shallow. 
Ruder  sounds  shall  none  be  near. 
Guards  nor  warders  ^  challenge  here. 
Here's  no  war-steed's  neigh  and  champing. 
Shouting  clans  or  squadrons  stamping." 

1  harmony  of  sounds.  *  ploughed  but  uncultivated  land. 

2  Highland  bagpipe  music.  ^  a  kind  of  heron  or  wading  bird. 

8  long  troop  of  cavalry  or  mounted  men.  ^  covered  with  coarse  grass.     '  sentinels. 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  35 

XXXII. 

She  paused, — then,  blushing,  led  the  lay. 
To  grace  the  stranger  of  the  day. 
Her  mellow  notes  awhile  prolong 
The  cadence  ^  of  the  flowing  song, 
Till  to  her  lips  in  measured  frame 
The  minstrel  verse  spontaneous  ^  came. 

SONG   CONTINUED. 

''  Huntsman,  rest !  thy  chase  is  done  ; 

While  our  slumbrous  spells  assail  ye. 
Dream  not,  with  the  rising  sun. 

Bugles  here  shall  sound  reveille.^ 
Sleep  !  the  deer  is  in  his  den ; 

Sleep  !  thy  hounds  are  by  thee  lying  ; 
Sleep  !  nor  dream  in  yonder  glen 

How  thy  gallant  steed  lay  dying. 
Huntsman,  rest  !  thy  chase  is  done ; 

Think  not  of  the  rising  sun. 
For  at  dawning  to  assail  ye 
Here  no  bugles  sound  reveille.''^ 

XXXIII. 

The  hall  was  cleared, — the  stranger's  bed, 
"Was  there  of  mountain  heather  spread. 
Where  oft  a  hundred  guests  had  lain. 
And  dreamed  their  forest  sports  again. 
But  vainly  did  the  heath-flower  shed 
Its  moorland  fragrance  round  his  head  ; 
Not  Ellen's  spell  had  lulled  to  rest 
The  fever  of  his  troubled  breast. 
In  broken  dreams  the  image  rose 
Of  varied  perils,  pains,  and  woes  : 

1  fall  or  modulation  of  the  voice  (here,        ^  {jjron.  re-val'ya)  morning  drum-beat  or 
musical  rendering.)  bugle-call. 

'  of  its  own  accord  ;  not  forced. 


36  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

His  steed  now  flounders  in  the  brake, 

Now  sinks  his  barge  upon  the  lake ; 

Now  leader  of  a  broken  host, 

His  standard  falls,  his  honoris  lost. 

Then, — from  my  couch  may  heavenly  might 

Chase  that  worst  phantom  ^  of  the  night ! — 

Again  returned  the  scenes  of  youth. 

Of  confident,  undoubting  truth  ; 

Again  his  soul  he  interchanged 

With  friends  whose  hearts  were  long  estranged.'* 

They  come,  in  dim  procession  led. 

The  cold,  the  faithless,  and  the  dead ; 

As  warm  each  hand,  each  brow  as  gay. 

As  if  they  parted  yesterday. 

And  doubt  distracts  him  at  the  view, —  ,■ 

0  were  his  senses  false  or  true  ?  i! 

Dreamed  he  of  death  or  broken  vow. 

Or  is  it  all  a  vision  now  ? 

XXXIV. 

At  length,  with  Ellen  in  a  grove 

He  seemed  to  walk  and  speak  of  love  ; 

She  listened  with  a  blush  and  sigh. 

His  suit  was  warm,  his  hopes  were  high. 

He  sought  her  yielded  hand  to  clasp. 

And  a  cold  gauntlet  ^  met  his  grasp  : 

The  phantom^s  sex  was  changed  and  gone, 

Upon  his  head  a  helmet  shone  ; 

Slowly  enlarged  to  giant  size. 

With  darkened  cheek  and  threatening  eyes. 

The  grisly  visage,*  stern  and  hoar. 

To  Ellen  still  a  likeness  bore. — 

*  ghost ;  dread  vision.  ^  glove,  with  back  protected  with  strips  of 

2  alienated ;    turned   to    indifference    or     metal. 
enmity.  ^  grim  countenance. 


I.]  THE   CHASE.  37 

He  woke,  and,  panting  with  affright^ 

Kecalled  the  vision  of  the  night. 

The  hearth^s  decaying  brands  were  red. 

And  deep  and  dusky  lustre  ^  shed. 

Half  showing,  half  concealing,  all 

The  uncouth  trophies  of  the  hall. 

^Mid  those  the  stranger  fixed  his  eye 

Where  that  huge  falchion  hung  on  high, 

And  thoughts  on  thoughts,  a  countless  throng. 

Rushed,  chasing  countless  thoughts  along. 

Until,  the  giddy  whirl  to  cure, 

He  rose  and  sought  the  moonshine  pure. 

XXXV. 

/ 

The  wild  rose,  eglantine,  and  broom 

Wasted  around  their  rich  perfume  ; 

The  birch-trees  wept  in  fragrant  balm  ; 

The  aspen  slept  beneath  the  calm  ; 

The  silver  light,  with  quivering  glance. 

Played  on  the  water^s  still  expanse, — 

Wild  were  the  heart  whose  passion^s  sway 

Could  rage  beneath  the  sober  ray  ! 

He  felt  its  calm,  that  warrior  guest. 

While  thus  he  communed  with  his  breast : — 

''  Why  is  it,  at  each  turn  I  trace 

Some  memory  of  that  exiled  race  ? 

Can  I  not  mountain  maiden  spy. 

But  she  must  bear  the  Douglas  eye  ? 

Can  I  not  view  a  Highland  brand, ^ 

But  it  must  match  the  Douglas  hand  ? 

Can  I  not  frame  a  fevered  dream. 

But  still  the  Douglas  is  the  theme  ? 

1^11  dream  no  more, — by  manly  mind 

Not  even  in  sleep  is  will  resigned. 

1  brightness.  2  sword. 


38  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto  i. 

Mj  midnight  orisons  ^  said  o^er, 
ril  turn  to  rest^  and  dream  no  more/' 
His  midnight  orisons  he  told, 
A  prayer  with  every  bead  of  gold. 
Consigned  ^  to  heaven  his  cares  and  woes. 
And  sunk  in  undisturbed  repose. 
Until  the  heath-cock  shrilly  crew. 
And  morning  dawned  on  Benvenue. 

^  prayers.  2  gave  up  ;  intrusted  to. 


CANTO   SECOND. 

THE    ISLAND. 

SUMMARY.  ' 

Attended  by  a  trusty  Highland  guide  the  stranger  takes  his  leave  the  next  morning. 
Ellen  witnesses  his  departure,  and  the  minstrel  speeds  him  on  his  way  with  some  strains 
from  his  harp.  Shortly  after,  four  large  barges,  conveying  Roderick  Dhu  and  his  clan- 
followers,  approach  the  island.  While  they  are  landing,  Ellen  hears  her  father's  bugle 
on  the  shore,  and  hastens  to  meet  him.  With  him  is  her  lover,  Malcolm  Graeme.  They 
all  come  to  the  island,  where  the  morning  is  spent  in  conversation  and  in  pastimes.  At 
noon,  a  messenger  arrives  and  informs  Roderick  that  the  king,  having  subdued  the 
Border  chieftains,  is  about  to  attack  the  Highland  robbers.  Douglas  proposes  to  with- 
draw with  his  daughter,  and  counsels  Roderick  to  submit  to  the  king.  Roderick  demands 
Ellen  in  marriage  and  the  alliance  of  Douglas  against  the  king.  Both  demands  meet 
with  refusal.  Roderick,  jealous  of  Graeme,  quarrels  with  him  ;  bloodshed  is  prevented 
by  Douglas's  interposing.  Graeme  is  ordered  to  leave  the  island.  Refusing  to  be  indebted 
to  his  enemy  for  a  boat,  he  swims  to  the  mainland. 

-t 

I. 

At  morn  the  black-cock  trims  his  jetty  ^  wing, 

^Tis  morning  prompts  the  linnet^s  ^  blithest  lay, 
All  Nature^s  children  feel  the  matin  spring  ^ 

Of  life  reviving,  with  reviving  day  ; 
And  while  yon  little  bark  glides  down  the  bay. 

Wafting  the  stranger  on  his  way  again, 
Morn^s  genial  influence  roused  a  minstrel  gray. 

And  sweetly  o'er  the  lake  was  heard  thy  strain, 
Mixed  with  the  sounding  harp,  0  white-haired  Allan- 
bane  !  * 

>  jet-black.  2  a  small  song-bird,  chieftains.    His  main  duty  was  to  celebrate 

3  morning  activity.  in  verse  and  song  the  triumphs  of  his  clan. 

*  a  bard  or  minstrel  was  retained,  to  a  Frequently  the  education  of  the  children  of 

late  period,  in  the  families  of   Highland  the  chief  was  intrusted  to  him. 


40  THE   LADY   OF   THE  LAKE.  [canto 


II. 


SONG. 


'^  Not  faster  yonder  rowers^  might 
Flings  from  their  oars  the  spray. 

Not  faster  yonder  rippling  bright. 

That  tracks  the  shallop^'s  course  in  light, 
Melts  in  the  lake  away. 

Than  men  from  memory  erase 

The  benefits  of  former  days  ; 

Then,  stranger,  go  !  good  speed  the  while. 

Nor  think  again  of  the  lonely  isle. 

'^  High  place  to  thee  in  royal  court. 

High  place  in  battled  line. 
Good  hawk  and  hound  for  sylvan  sport  ! 
Where  beauty  sees  the  brave  resort. 

The  honored  meed '  be  thine  ! 
True  be  thy  sword,  thy  friend  sincere. 
Thy  lady  constant,  kind,  and  dear. 
And  lost  in  lover's  and  friendship^'s  smile 
Be  memory  of  the  lonely  isle  ! 

III. 

SONG     CONTINUED. 

^'  But  if  beneath  yon  southern  sky 

A  plaided  stranger  roam. 
Whose  drooping  crest  and  stifled  sigh. 
And  sunken  cheek  and  heavy  eye. 

Pine  for  his  Highland  home  ; 
Then,  warrior,  then  be  thine  to  show 
The  care  that  soothes  a  wanderer^s  woe  ; 

1  reward. 


11.  ]  THE   ISLAND.  41 

Kemember  then  thy  hap  ^  erewhile, 
A  stranger  in  the  lonely  isle. 

*'  Or  if  on  lifers  uncertain  main  '^ 

Mishap  shall  mar  thy  sail  ; 
If  faithful,  wise,  and  brave  in  vain, 
Woe,  want,  and  exile  thou  sustain 

Beneath  the  fickle  gale  ; 
Waste  not  a  sigh  on  fortune  changed. 
On  thankless  courts,  or  friends  estranged. 
But  come  where  kindred  worth  shall  smile. 
To  greet  thee  in  the  lonely  isle/" 

IV. 

As  died  the  sounds  upon  the  tide, 

The  shallop  reached  the  mainland  side. 

And  ere  his  onward  way  he  took. 

The  stranger  cast  a  lingering  look. 

Where  easily  his  eye  might  reach 

The  Harper  on  the  islet  beach. 

Reclined  against  a  blighted  ^  tree. 

As  wasted,  gray,  and  worn  as  he. 

To  minstrel  meditation  given. 

His  reverend  brow  was  raised  to  heaven. 

As  from  the  rising  sun  to  claim 

A  sparkle  of  inspiring  flame. 

His  hand,  reclined  upon  the  wire. 

Seemed  watching  the  awakening  fire  ; 

So  still  he  sat  as  those  who  wait 

Till  judgment  speak  the  doom  of  fate  ; 

So  still,  as  if  no  breeze  might  dare 

To  lift  one  lock  of  hoary  hair  ; 

So  still,  as  life  itself  were  fled 

In  the  last  sound  his  harp  had  sped. 

1  what  happened  to  thee  formerly.        2  ocean.        3  withered  or  riven  by  lightning. 


42  THE    LADY    OF   THE   LAKE.  [cANTO 

V. 

Upon  a  rock  with  lichens  '  wild. 
Beside  him  Ellen  sat  and  smiled. — 
Smiled  she  to  see  the  stately  drake 
Lead  forth  his  fleet  upon  the  lake, 
While  her  vexed  spaniel  from  the  beach 
Bayed  at  the  prize  beyond  his  reach  ? 
Yet  tell  me,  then,  the  maid  who  knows. 
Why  deepened  on  her  cheek  the  rose  ? — 
Forgive,  forgive.  Fidelity  ! 
Perchance  the  maiden  smiled  to  see 
Yon  parting  lingerer  wave  adieu. 
And  stop  and  turn  to  wave  anew ; 
And,  lovely  ladies,  ere  your  ire 
Condemn  the  heroine  of  my  lyre. 
Show  me  the  fair  would  scorn  to  spy 
And  prize  such  conquest  of  her  eye  ! 

VI. 

While  yet  he  loitered  on  the  spot, 
It  seemed  as  Ellen  marked  him  not  ; 
But  when  he  turned  him  to  the  glade, 
One  courteous  parting  sign  she  made  ; 
And  after,  oft  the  knight  would  say. 
That  not  when  prize  of  festal  day 
Was  dealt  him  by  the  brightest  fair 
Who  e'er  wore  jewel  in  her  hair. 
So  highly  did  his  bosom  swell 
As  at  that  simple  mute  farewell. 
Now  with  a  trusty  mountain-guide. 
And  his  dark  stag-hounds  by  his  side. 
He  parts/ — the  maid,  unconscious  still. 
Watched  him  wind  slowly  round  the  hill  ; 

1  ipron.  li'kenz)  a  fungus  plant  life,  commonly  termed  moss,  2  departs. 


II.]  THE   ISLAND.  43 

But  when  his  stately  form  was  hid, 

Tlie  guardian  in  her  bosom  chid, — 

**Thy  Malcolm  !  vain  and  selfish  maid  !'' 

''Twas  thus  upbraiding  conscience  said, — 

^'  Not  so  had  Malcolm  idly  hung 

On  the  smooth  phrase  of  Southern  tongue ; 

Not  so  had  Malcolm  strained  his  eye 

Another  step  than  thine  to  spy." — 

'^  Wake,  Allan-bane,"  aloud  she  cried 

To  the  old  minstrel  by  her  side, — 

^'  Arouse  thee  from  thy  moody  dream  ! 

ril  give  thy  harp  heroic  theme. 

And  warm  thee  with  a  noble  name  ; 

Pour  forth  the  glory  of  the  Graeme  !  ^^  ^ 

Scarce  from  her  lip  the  word  had  rushed, 

When  deep  the  conscious  maiden  blushed  ; 

For  of  his  clan,  in  hall  and  bower. 

Young  Malcolm  Graeme  was  held  the  flower. 


VII. 

The  minstrel  waked  his  harp, — three  times 

Arose  the  well-known  martial  chimes. 

And  thrice  their  high  heroic  pride 

In  melancholy  murmurs  died. 

'^  Vainly  thou  bidst,  0  noble  maid,^' 

Clasping  his  withered  hands,  he  said, 

^^  Vainly  thou  bidst  me  wake  the  strain, 

Though  all  unw^ont  to  bid  in  vain. 

Alas  !  than  mine  a  mightier  hand 

Has  tuned  my  harp,  my  strings  has  spanned  ! 

I  touched  the  chords  of  joy,  but  low 

And  mournful  answer  notes  of  woe  ; 

1  The  ancient  and  powerful  family  of  the  Grahams  held  extensive  possessions  in 
Dumbartonshire  and  Stirlingshire. 


44  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

And  the  proud  march  which  victors  tread 

Sinks  in  the  wailing  for  the  dead, 

0,  well  for  me,  if  mine  alone 

That  dirge^s  deep  prophetic  tone  ! 

If,  as  my  tuneful  fathers  said. 

This  harp,  which  erst  ^  Saint  Modan  ^  swayed. 

Can  thus  its  master^s  fate  foretell. 

Then  welcome  be  the  minstreFs  knell !  ^ 

VIIL 

''  But  ah  !  dear  lady,  thus  it  sighed. 

The  eve  thy  sainted  mother  died  ; 

And  such  the  sounds  which,  while  I  strove 

To  wake  a  lay  of  war  or  love. 

Came  marring  all  the  festal  mirth. 

Appalling "  me  who  gave  them  birth, 

And,  disobedient  to  my  call. 

Wailed  loud  through  BothwelFs  bannered  hall,"^ 

Ere  Douglases,^  to  ruin  driven, 

Were  exiled  from  their  native  heaven. — 

0  !  if  yet  worse  mishap  and  woe 

My  master's  house  must  undergo. 

Or  aught  but  weal  to  Ellen  fair 

Brood '  in  these  accents  of  despair, 

»  formerly.  and  people  ;  so  that  it  was  said  that  no  jus- 

2  Scott  here  assumes  that  Saint  Modan  tice  could  be  obtained  against  a  Douglas  or 

could  perform  on  the  harp  ;  this  was  not  a  Douglas's  man.    Archibald  Douglas,  Earl 

an  unsaintly  accomplishment.  of  Angus,  had  married  Margaret  Tudor,  the 

'  note  of  evil  omen.  mother  of  James  V. ,  and  the  young  king 

4  frightening.  in  his  boyhood  had  been  held  in  such  sub- 

6  seat  of  the  Earls  of  Angus  and  Doug-  jection  that  when  at  last  he  made  his  escape 

las.  from  the  numerous  Douglases  who  guarded 

8  The  Douglas  family  had  been  exceed-  and  watched  him,  he  hated  the  very  name 

ingly  powerful  ever  since  the  great  wars  of  the  family,  and  banished  every  one  of 

with  England,  when  James  Douglas  had  them,  including  a  brave  old  man,  Douglas 

been  the  chief  friend  of  Bruce,  the  cham-  of  Kilspindie,  who  had  been  a  great  favor- 

pion  of  national  independence.    The  Earls  ite  with  him  in  his  childhood,  and  from 

of  Douglas  and  of  Angus,  with  their  many  whom  the  character  of  the  Douglas  of  the 

relatives,  had  since  grown  so  powerful  and  poem  is  taken. — Yonge. 

unscrupulous  as  to  be  the  terror  of  kings  ''be  foreshadowed. 


II.]  THE   ISLAND.  45 

No  future  bard,  sad  Harp  !  shall  fling 
Triumph  or  rapture  from  thy  string  ; 
One  short,  one  final  strain  shall  flow, 
Fraught  ^  with  unutterable  woe. 
Then  shivered  shall  thy  fragments  lie, 
Thy  master  cast  him  down  and  die  !  '^ 

IX. 

Soothing  she  answered  him  :  '^'^  Assuage,' 

Mine  honored  friend,  the  fears  of  age  ; 

All  melodies  to  thee  are  known 

That  harp  has  rung  or  pipe  has  blown. 

In  Lowland  vale  or  Highland  glen, 

From  Tweed  to  Spey  ^ — what  marvel,  then. 

At  times  unbidden  notes  should  rise. 

Confusedly  bound  in  memory^s  ties. 

Entangling,  as  they  rush  along. 

The  war-march  with  the  funeral  song  ? — 

Small  ground  is  now  for  boding  fear  ; 

Obscure,  but  safe,  we  rest  us  here. 

My  sire,  in  native  virtue  great, 

Eesigning  lordship,  lands,  and  state, 

Not  then  to  fortune  more  resigned 

Than  yonder  oak  might  give  the  wind  ; 

The  graceful  foliage  storms  may  reave,* 

The  noble  stem  they  cannot  grieve. 

For  me '' — she  stooped,  and,  looking  round. 

Plucked  a  blue  harebell  ^  from  the  ground, — 

''  For  me,  whose  memory  scarce  conveys 

An  image  of  more  splendid  days. 

This  little  flower  that  loves  the  lea " 

May  well  my  simple  emblem  be  ; 

1  laden  ;  filled.  '  soothe  or  quiet.  *  rob  ;  despoil. 

3  i.e.,  throughout  the  whole  country  ;  the  ^  also  called  the  bluebell  of  Scotland. 

Tweed  being  the  southern  boundary,  the  ^  meadow, 
Spey  the  northern. 


46  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

It  drinks  heaven^s  dew  as  blithe  as  rose 

That  in  the  King's  own  garden  grows ; 

And  when  I  place  it  in  my  hair, 

Allan,  a  bard  is  bound  to  swear 

He  ne'er  saw  coronet^  so  fair." 

Then  playfully  the  chaplet  wild 

She  wreathed  in  her  dark  locks,  and  smiled. 

X. 

Her  smile,  her  speech,  with  winning  sway. 
Wiled  '^  the  old  Harper's  mood  away. 
With  such  a  look  as  hermits  throw. 
When  angels  stoop  to  soothe  their  woe. 
He  gazed,  till  fond  regret  and  pride 
Thrilled  to  a  tear,  then  thus  replied  : 
''  Loveliest  and  best  !  thou  little  know'st 
The  rank,  the  honors,  thou  hast  lost ! 
0,  might  I  live  to  see  thee  grace. 
In  Scotland's  court,  thy  birthright  place. 
To  see  my  favorite's  step  advance 
The  lightest  in  the  courtly  dance, 
The  cause  of  every  gallant's  sigh, 
And  leading  star  of  every  eye. 
And  theme  of  every  minstrel's  art. 
The  Lady  of  the  Bleeding  Heart  ! "  ' 

XL 

"  Fair  dreams  are  these,"  the  maiden  cried, — 
Light  was  her  accent,  yet  she  sighed, — 
'^  Yet  is  this  mossy  rock  to  me 
Worth  splendid  chair  and  canopy  ; 
Nor  would  my  footstep  spring  more  gay 
In  courtly  dance  than  blithe  strathspey,* 

»  chaplet  or  wreath  for  the  head.  charge  given  on  his  deathbed  by  Robert 

2  beguiled.  Bruce  to  James  Douglas  to  bear  his  heart  io, 

s  the  shield  of  the  Douglas  family  bore  a  Crusades  to  the  Holy  Land, 

red  heart  crowned,  in  remembrance  of  the  *  a  lively  Scottish  dance. 


II.]  THE   ISLAND.  47 

Nor  half  so  pleased  mine  ear  incline 
To  royal  minstrel's  lay  as  thine. 
And  then  for  suitors  proud  and  high. 
To  bend  before  my  conquering  eye, — 
Thou,  flattering  bard  I  thyself  wilt  say. 
That  grim  Sir  Roderick  owns  its  sway. 
The  Saxon  scourge,  Clan-Alpine's  pride. 
The  terror  of  Loch  Lomond's  ^  side, 
Would,  at  my  suit,  thou  know'st,  delay 
A  Lennox  foray'' — for  a  day." — 

XII. 

The  ancient  bard  her  glee  repressed  : 
^'  111  hast  thou  chosen  theme  for  jest ! 
For  who,  through  all  this  western  wild, 
Named  Black  Sir  Eoderick  e'er,  and  smiled  ? 
In  Holy-Eood  ^  a  knight  he  slew ;  * 
I  saw,  when  back  the  dirk  he  drew. 
Courtiers  give  place  before  the  stride 
Of  the  undaunted  ^  homicide  ;  ^ 
And  since,  though  outlawed,^  hath  his  hand 
Full  sternly  kept  his  mountain  land. 
Who  else  dared  give — ah  !  woe  the  day. 
That  I  such  hated  truth  should  say  ! — 
The  Douglas,  like  a  stricken  deer. 
Disowned  *  by  every  noble  peer, 

1  the  gem  of  Scottish  lakes,  near  Loch  «  one  who  kills  another. 
Katrine  (see  map).  ^  deprived  of  the  law's  protection. 

2  incursion  of  armed  men  for  the  sake  of  s  "  The  exiled  state  of  this  powerful  race  is 
plunder.  not   exaggerated  in  this    and    subsequent 

3  a  palace  in  Edinburgh,  ancient  residence  passages.  The  hatred  of  James  against  the 
of  Scottish  royalty.  race  of  Douglas  was  so   inveterate,  that, 

4  not  an  uncommon  occurrence;  since  the  numerous  as  their  allies  were,  and  disre- 
presence  of  even  the  sovereign  could  scarcely  garded  as  the  regal  authority  had  usually 
restrain  the  inveterate  feuds  which  were  been  in  similar  cases,  their  nearest  friends, 
the  source  of  much  bloodshed  among  the  even  in  the  most  remote  parts  of  Scotland, 
Scottish  nobility.  durst  not  entertain  them,  unless  under  the 

s  bold  ;  unterrifled.  strictest  and  closest  disguise.    James  Doug- 


48  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Even  the  rude  refuge  we  have  here  ? 

Alas,  this  wild  marauding  Chief 

Alone  might  hazard  ^  our  relief,, 

And  now  thy  maiden  charms  expand. 

Looks  for  his  guerdon  ^  in  thy  hand  ; 

Full  soon  may  dispensation  ^  sought. 

To  back  his  suit,  from  Rome  be  brought. 

Then,  though  an  exile  on  the  hill. 

Thy  father,  as  the  Douglas,  still 

Be  held  in  reverence  and  fear  ; 

And  though  to  Roderick  thou'rt  so  dear 

That  thou  mightst  guide  with  silken  thread. 

Slave  of  thy  will,  this  chieftain  dread. 

Yet,  0  loved  maid,  thy  mirth  refrain  ! 

Thy  hand  is  on  a  lion^s  mane." — 

XIII. 

""  Minstrel,^^  the  maid  replied,  and  high 

Her  father^s  soul  glanced  from  her  eye, 

"  My  debts  to  Roderick's  house  I  know: 

All  that  a  mother  could  bestow 

To  Lady  Margaret's  care  I  owe,  - 

Since  first  an  orphan  in  the  wild 

She  sorrowed  o'er  her  sister's  child  ; 

To  her  brave  chieftain  son,  from  ire 

Of  Scotland's  king  who  shrouds  my  sire, 

A  deeper,  holier  debt  is  owed  ; 

And,  could  I  pay  it  with  my  blood, 

las,  son  of  the  banished  Earl  of  Angus,  observation  which  he  acquired  in  his  hum- 
afterwards  well  known  by  the  title  of  Earl  ble  situation,  the  historian  traces  that  in- 
of  Morton,  lurked,  during  the  exile  of  his  timate  acquaintance  with  popular  character, 
family,  in  the  north  of  Scotland,  under  the  which  enabled  him  to  rise  so  high  in  the 
assumed  name  of  James  Innes,  otherwise  state,  and  that  honorable  economy  by  which 
James  the  Grieve  (i.e.,  reve,  or  bailiff),  he  repaired  and  established  the  shattered 
'And  as  he  bore  the  name,'  says  Gods-  estates  of  Angus  and  Morton. " — Scott. 
croft,  '  so  did  he  also  execute  the  office  of  a  ^  attempt  or  risk.  2  reward. 
grieve,  or  overseer,  of  the  lands  and  rents,  ^  the  Pope's  permission  for  Roderick  to 
the  corn  and  cattle  of  him  with  whom  he  marry  his  first  cousin  Ellen,  which  the  laws 
lived.'    From  the  habits  of  frugality  and  of  the  time  forbade. 


11.  ]  THE   ISLAND.  49 

Allan  !  Sir  Eoderick  should  command 
My  blood,  my  life, — but  not  my  hand. 
Kather  will  Ellen  Douglas  dwell 
A  votaress  ^  in  Maronnan^s  '^  cell ; 
Eather  through  realms  beyond  the  sea. 
Seeking  the  world^s  cold  charity. 
Where  ne'er  was  spoke  a  Scottish  word. 
And  ne'er  the  name  of  Douglas  heard, 
An  outcast  pilgrim  will  she  rove. 
Than  wed  the  man  she  cannot  love. 

XIV. 

'^  Thou  shak'st,  good  friend,  thy  tresses  gray, — 

That  pleading  look,  what  can  it  say 

But  what  I  own  ? — I  grant  him  brave, 

But  wild  as  Bracklinn's  thundering  wave  ;  ^ 

And  generous, — save  vindictive  *  mood 

Or  jealous  transport  chafe  his  blood  : 

I  grant  him  true  to  friendly  band. 

As  his  claymore  ^  is  to  his  hand  ; 

But  0  !  that  very  blade  of  steel 

More  mercy  for  a  foe  would  feel  : 

I  grant  him  liberal,  to  fling 

Among  his  clan  the  wealth  they  bring. 

When  back  by  lake  and  glen  they  wind. 

And  in  the  Lowland  leave  behind, 

Where  once  some  pleasant  hamlet  stood, 

A  mass  of  ashes  slaked  ^  with  blood. 

The  hand  that  for  my  father  fought 

I  honor,  as  his  daughter  ought ; 

>  one  consecrated  by  a  vow  to  good  works        ^  a  cascade  at  the  bridge  of  Bracklinn,  a 

and  a  religious  life  (feminine  form  :   the  mile  from  the  village  of  Callander, 
masculine  is  votary).  *  revengeful. 

^  parish  of   Kilmarnock  (at  the  eastern        ^  Highland  broadsword, 
end  of  Loch   Lomond),  so-called    from  a        ^  wet ;  drenched, 
chapel  dedicated  to  the  saint. 

4 


50  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

But  can  I  clasp  it  reeking  red  ^ 

From  peasants  slaughtered  in  their  shed  ? 

No  !  wildly  while  his  virtues  gleam. 

They  make  his  passions  darker  seem. 

And  flash  along  his  spirit  high. 

Like  lightning  o'er  the  midnight  sky. 

While  yet  a  child, — and  children  know. 

Instinctive  ^  taught,  the  friend  and  foe, — 

I  shuddered  at  his  brow  of  gloom. 

His  shadowy  plaid  and  sable  ^  plume  ; 

A  maiden  grown,  I  ill  could  bear 

His  haughty  mien  and  lordly  air  : 

But,  if  thou  join'st  a  suitors  claim. 

In  serious  mood,  to  Eoderick^s  name, 

I  thrill  with  anguish  !  or,  if  e^er 

A  Douglas  knew  the  word,  with  fear. 

To  change  such  odious  *  theme  were  best, — 

What  think'st  thou  of  our  stranger  guest  ?  " — 

XV. 

"  What  think  I  of  him  ? — woe  the  while 
That  brought  such  wanderer  to  our  isle  ! 
Thy  father's  battle-brand,  of  yore 
For  Tine-man  ^  forged  by  fairy  lore. 
What  time  ^  he  leagued,^  no  longer  foes. 
His  Border  ®  spears  with  Hotspur's  bows. 
Did,  self-unscabbarded,  foreshow 
The  footstep  of  a  secret  foe. 
If  courtly  spy  hath  harbored  here. 
What  may  we  for  the  Douglas  fear  ? 

1  smoking  with  fresh  blood.  las,  because  he  tined,  or  lost,  his  followers 

2  (adverb,  instinctively)  by  instinct,  with-  in  every  battle.      ^  when;  at  the  time  when, 
out  reasoning.  ''  united  for  mutual  support. 

3  black.  "^  Douglas  with  his  Scottish  spearmen  al- 

4  very  disagreeable.  lied  himself  with  Percy  Hotspur,  whose  men 

5  applied  to  Archibald,  third  Earl  of  Doug-  were  armed  with  the  crossbow. 


II.]  THE   ISLAND.  51 

What  for  this  island,  deemed  of  old 

Clan-Alpine^s  last  and  surest  hold  ? 

If  neither  spy  nor  foe,  I  pray 

What  yet  may  jealous  Eoderick  say  ?  — 

'Nsbj,  wave  not  thy  disdainful  head  ! 

Bethink  thee  of  the  discord  dread 

That  kindled  when  at  Beltane  game  ^ 

Thou  ledst  the  dance  with  Malcolm  Gr^me  ; 

Still,  though  thy  sire  the  peace  renewed. 

Smoulders  in  Roderick's  breast  the  feud  : 

Beware  !  —  But  hark  !  what  sounds  are  these  ? 

My  dull  ears  catch  no  faltering  breeze, 

JSTo  weeping  birch  nor  as|)ens  wake, 

Nor  breath  is  dimpling  in  the  lake  ; 

Still  is  the  canna^s  hoary  beard. 

Yet,  by  my  minstrel  faith,  I  heard — 

And  hark  again  !  some  pipe  of  war 

Sends  the  bold  pibroch  from  afar." 

XYI. 

Far  up  the  lengthened  lake  were  spied 
Four  darkening  specks  upon  the  tide. 
That,  slow  enlarging  on  the  view. 
Four  manned  and  masted  barges  grew. 
And,  bearing  downwards  from  Glengyle,^ 
Steered  full  upon  the  lonely  isle  ; 
The  point  of  Brianchoil  ^  they  passed. 
And,  to  the  windward  as  they  cast,* 
Against  the  sun  they  gave  to  shine 
The  bold  Sir  Roderick's  bannered  Pine.^ 
Nearer  and  nearer  as  they  bear. 
Spears,  pikes,  and  axes  flash  in  air. 

1  Celtic  May-day  festival,   celebrated  by        ^  as  they  brought  round  the  side  of  the 
lighting  bonfires  on  hilltops,  and  dancing  in     boat  to  the  wind. 

front  of  them.  s  the  badge  of  Clan -Alpine  and  the  Mac- 

2  valley  at  the  head  of  Loch  Katrine.  gregors. 
8  point  on  southern  side  of  the  lake. 


52  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Now  might  you  see  the  tartans '  brave. 

And  plaids  and  plumage  dance  and  wave  : 

Now  see  the  bonnets  ^  sink  and  rise. 

As  his  tough  oar  the  rower  plies  ; 

See,  flashing  at  each  sturdy  stroke. 

The  wave  ascending  into  smoke  ; 

See,  the  proud  pipers  on  the  bow. 

And  mark  the  gaudy  streamers  ^  flow 

From  their  loud  chanters,"  down,  and  sweep 

The  furrowed  bosom  of  the  deep. 

As,  rushing  through  the  lake  amain. 

They  plied  the  ancient  Highland  strain. 

XVII. 

Ever,  as  on  they  bore,  more  loud 

And  louder  rung  the  pibroch  proud. 

At  first  the  sounds,  by  distance  tame. 

Mellowed  along  the  waters  came. 

And,  lingering  long  by  cape  and  bay. 

Wailed  every  harsher  note  away. 

Then  bursting  bolder  on  the  ear. 

The  clangs  shrill  Gathering  °  they  could  hear. 

Those  thrilling  sounds  that  call  the  might 

Of  old  Clan- Alpine  to  the  fight. 

Thick  beat  the  rapid  notes,  as  when 

The  mustering  hundreds  shake  the  glen. 

And  hurrying  at  the  signal  dread. 

The  battered  earth  returns  their  tread. 

Then  prelude  light,  of  livelier  tone. 

Expressed  their  merry  marching  on. 

Ere  peal  of  closing  battle  rose. 

With  mingled  outcry,  shrieks,  and  blows  ; 

*  bright-colored   plaids.      (Brave    is    in        3  colored  ribbons  attached  to    the   bag- 
Scotch  braw,  or  bonny.)  pipes  for  ornament. 

2  Scotch   caps   worn    by   men    (Tarn  o'        •*  the  pipe  of  the  bagpipes  on  which  the 
Shanters).  tune  is  played  is  called  the  chanter. 

5  rallying  word  of  the  clan  ;  war-cry. 


II.]  THE  ISLAND.  53 

And  mimic  din  of  stroke  and  ward. 
As  broadsword  upon  target  jarred  ; 
And  groaning  pause,  ere  yet  again. 
Condensed,  the  battle  yelled  amain  : 
The  rapid  charge,  the  rallying  shout, 
Retreat  borne  headlong  into  rout. 
And  bursts  of  triumph,  to  declare 
Olan-Alpine^s  conquest — all  were  there. 
Nor  ended  thus  the  strain,  but  slow 
Sunk  in  a  moan  prolonged  and  low, 
And  changed  the  conquering  clarion^  swell 
For  wild  lament  o'er  those  that  fell. 

XVIII. 

The  war-pipes  ceased,  but  lake  and  hill 
Were  busy  with  their  echoes  still  ; 
And,  when  they  slept,  a  vocal  strain 
Bade  their  hoarse  chorus  wake  again. 
While  loud  a  hundred  clansmen  raise 
Their  voices  in  their  Chieftain's  praise. 
Each  boatman,  bending  to  his  oar. 
With  measured  sweep  the  burden  bore. 
In  such  wild  cadence^  as  the  breeze 
Makes  through  December's  leafless  trees. 
The  chorus  first  could  Allan  know, 
^'  Roderick  Vich  Alpine,  ho  !  iro  !  " 
And  near,  and  nearer  as  they  rowed. 
Distinct  the  martial  ditty  flowed. ' 

XIX. 

BOAT    SONG. 

Hail  to  the  Chief  who  in  triumph  advances  ! 

Honored  and  blest  be  the  ever-green  Pine  ! 
Long  may  the  tree,  in  his  banner  that  glances. 

Flourish,  the  shelter  and  grace  of  our  line  ! 

1  trumpet  with  clear,  shrill  note.  2  rhythmical  movement  of  music. 


54  THE   LADY    OF   THE   LAKE.  [cANTO 

Heaven  send  it  happy  dew. 

Earth  lend  it  sap  anew, 
Gayly  to  bourgeon  ^  and  brog^dly  to  grow. 

While  every  Highland  glen 

Sends  our  shout  back  again, 
''  Eoderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,^  ho  !  ieroe  ! '' 
Ours  is  no  sapling,  chance-sown  by  the  fountain. 

Blooming  at  Beltane,^  in  winter  to  fade  ; 
When  the  whirlwind  has  stripped  every  leaf  on  the 
mountain. 
The  more  shall  Clan  Alpine  exult  in  her  shade. 

Moored  in  the  rifted  rock, 

Proof  to  the  tempesfs  shock. 
Firmer  he  roots  him  the  ruder  it  blow  ; 

Menteith  *  and  Breadalbane/  then. 

Echo  his  praise  again, 
'^  Eoderigh  Yich  Alpine  dhu,  ho  !  ieroe  \" 

XX. 

Proudly  our  pibroch  has  thrilled  in  Glen  Friiin,^ 

And  Bannochar^s  ^  groans  to  our  slogan  ^  replied  ; 
Glen  Luss  ^  and  Eoss-dhu,^  they  are  smoking  in  ruin. 
And  the  best  of  Loch  Lomond  lie  dead  on  her  side. 
W^idow  and  Saxon  maid 
Long  shall  lament  our  raid. 
Think  of  Clan- Alpine  with  fear  and  with  woe ; 
Lennox  and  Leven-glen  ^ 
Shake  when  they  hear  again, 
''  Eoderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,  ho  !  ieroe  !  '^ 
Eow,  vassals,  row,  for  the  pride  of  the  Highlands  ! 

Stretch  to  your  oars  for  the  ever-green  Pine  ! 
0  that  the  rosebud  that  graces  yon  islands 

1  to  bud.  pine,"  is  the  meaning  of  Roderigh  Vich 

2  beside  his  ordinary  name  and  surname,  Alpine  dhu.              s  Whitsuntide,  May  1st. 
every  Highland  chief  had  an  epithet  ex-  *  districts  north  of  Loch  Lomond, 
pressive  of  his  dignity  as  head  of  the  clan.  ^  valleys  on  the  borders  of  Loch  Lomond, 
"Black  Eoderick,  the  descendant  of  Al-  <»  battle-cry  of  the  Highlanders. 


II.]  THE^  ISLAND.  55 

Were  wreathed  in  a  garland  around  him  to  twine  ! 

0  that  some  seedling  gem^ 

Worthy  such  noble  stem^ 
Honored  and  blessed  in  their  shadow  might  grow  ! 

Loud  should  Clan-Alpine  then 

Ring  from  her  deepmost  glen, 
''  Eoderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,  ho  !  ieroe  !  '^ 

XXI. 

With  all  her  joyful  female  band 

Had  Lady  Margaret  sought  the  strand. 

Loose  on  the  breeze  their  tresses  flew. 

And  high  their  snowy  arms  they  threw. 

As  echoing  back  with  shrill  acclaim, 

And  chorus  wild,  the  Chieftain^s  name  ; 

While,  prompt  to  please,  with  mother^s  art, 

The  darling  passion  of  his  heart. 

The  dame  called  Ellen  to  the  strand. 

To  greet  her  kinsman  ere  he  land  : 

^'  Come,  loiterer,  come  !  a  Douglas  thou, 

And  shun  to  Avreath  a  victor's  brow  ?  ^' 

Reluctantly  ^  and  slow,  the  maid 

The  unwelcome  summoning  obeyed. 

And  when  a  distant  bugle  rung. 

In  the  mid-path  aside  she  sprung  : 

^'  List,  Allan-bane  !     From  mainland  cast 

I  hear  my  father's  signal  blast. 

Be  ours,"  she  cried,  "  the  skiff  to  guide. 

And  waft  him  from  the  mountain-side.'^ 

Then,  like  a  sunbeam,  swift  and  bright, 

She  darted  to  her  shallop  light. 

And,  eagerly  while  Roderick  scanned. 

For  her  dear  form,  his  mother's  band. 

The  islet  far  behind  her  lay, 

And  she  had  landed  in  the  bay. 

1  unwillingly. 


56  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

XXII. 

Some  feelings  are  to  mortals  given 

With  less  of  earth  in  them  than  heaven ; 

And  if  there  be  a  human  tear 

From  passions  dross  refined  and  clear, 

A  tear  so  limpid  '  and  so  meek 

It  would  not  stain  an  angeFs  cheek, 

■'Tis  that  which  pious  fathers  shed 

Upon  a  duteous  daughter's  head  ! 

And  as  the  Douglas  to  his  breast 

His  darling  Ellen  closely  pressed. 

Such  holy  drops  her  tresses  steeped. 

Though  ^twas  an  heroes  eye  that  weeped. 

Nor  while  on  Ellen's  faltering  tongue 

Her  filial  welcomes  crowded  hung. 

Marked  she  that  fear — affection's  proof — 

Still  held  a  graceful  youth  aloof  ; 

No  !  not  till  Douglas  named  his  name. 

Although  the  youth  was  Malcolm  Graeme. 

XXIII. 

Allan,  with  wistful  look  the  while. 

Marked  Roderick  landing  on  the  isle  ; 

His  master  piteously  he  eyed. 

Then  gazed  upon  the  Chieftain's  pride. 

Then  dashed  with  hasty  hand  away 

From  his  dimmed  eye  the  gathering  spray  ; 

And  Douglas,  as  his  hand  he  laid 

On  Malcolm's  shoulder,  kindly  said  : 

''  Canst  thou,  young  friend,  no  meaning  spy 

In  my  poor  follower's  glistening  eye  ? 

I'll  tell  thee  : — he  recalls  the  day 

When  in  my  praise  he  led  the  lay 

O'er  the  arched  gate  of  Bothwell  proud, 

While  many  a  minstrel  answered  loud, 

1  clear. 


II.]  THE   ISLAND.  57 

When  Percy^s  Norman  pennon/  won 

In  bloody  field,  before  me  shone, 

And  twice  ten  knights,  the  least  a  name 

As  mighty  as  yon  Chief  may  claim. 

Gracing  my  pomp,^  behind  me  came. 

Yet  trust  me,  Malcolm,  not  so  proud 

Was  I  of  all  that  marshalled  crowd. 

Though  the  waned  crescent  ^  owned  my  might. 

And  in  my  train  trooped  lord  and  knight. 

Though  Blantyre  "  hymned  her  holiest  lays. 

And  Bothwell's  bards  flung  back  my  praise. 

As  when  this  old  man^s  silent  tear, 

And  this  poor  maid^s  affection  dear, 

A  welcome  give  more  kind  and  true 

Than  aught  my  better  fortunes  knew. 

Forgive,  my  friend,  a  father's  boast, — 

0,  it  out-beggars  all  I  lost  ! " 

XXIV. 

Delightful  praise  ! — like  summer  rose. 
That  brighter  in  the  dew-drop  glows. 
The  bashful  maiden's  cheek  appeared. 
For  Douglas  spoke,  and  Malcolm  heard. 
The  flush  of  shame-faced  joy  to  hide. 
The  hounds,  the  hawk,  her  cares  divide  ; 
The  loved  caresses  of  the  maid 
The  dogs  with  crouch  and  whimper  paid  : 
And,  at  her  whistle,  on  her  hand 
The  falcon  took  his  favorite  stand. 
Closed  his  dark  wing,  relaxed  his  eye, 
Nor,  though  unhooded,^  sought  to  fly. 

1  a  trophy  captured  by  the  Douglas,  in  <  ancient  abbey,  opposite  Bothwell  cas- 
1388,  before  Newcastle.  tie. 

2  parade.  s  falcons  were  kept  with  head  covered  ; 

3  silver  half-moon  badge  of  the  Percies  of  they  took  flight  in  search  of  prey  as  soon 
Northumberland,  and  of  Buccleuch  Scotts.  as  the  hood  was  removed. 


58  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

And,  trust,  while  in  such  guise  she  stood. 
Like  fabled  Goddess  ^  of  the  wood. 
That  if  a  father^s  partial  thought 
O^erweighed  her  worth  and  beauty  aught. 
Well  might  the  lover^s  judgment  fail 
To  balance  with  a  juster  scale  ; 
For  with  each  secret  glance  he  stole. 
The  fond  enthusiast  ^  sent  his  soul. 

XXV. 

Of  stature  fair,  and  slender  frame. 

But  firmly  knit,  was  Malcolm  Graeme. 

The  belted  plaid  and  tartan  hose 

Did  ne^er  more  graceful  limbs  disclose  ; 

His  flaxen  hair,  of  sunny  hue. 

Curled  closely  round  his  bonnet  blue. 

Trained  to  the  chase,  his  eagle  eye 

The  ptarmigan  in  snow  could  spy  ; 

Each  pass,  by  mountain,  lake,  and  heath. 

He  knew,  through  Lennox  and  Menteith  ; 

Vain  was  the  bound  of  dark-brown  doe 

When  Malcolm  bent  his  sounding  bow. 

And  scarce  that  doe,  though  winged  with  fear. 

Outstripped  in  speed  the  mountaineer; 

Right  up  Ben  Lomond  could  he  press. 

And  not  a  sob  his  toil  confess. 

His  form  accorded  with  a  mind 

Lively  and  ardent,  frank  and  kind  ; 

A  blither  heart,  till  Ellen  came. 

Did  never  love  nor  sorrow  tame  ; 

It  danced  as  blithesome  in  his  breast 

As  played  the  feather  on  his  crest. 

Yet  friends,  who  nearest  knew  the  youth. 

His  scorn  of  wrong,  his  zeal  for  truth, 

1  Diana,  goddess  of  the  wood.  ^  one  filled  with  emotion. 


Tl.]  THE    ISLAND.  59 

And  bards,  who  saw  his  features  bold 
When  kindled  by  the  tales  of  old, 
Said,  were  that  youth  to  manhood  grown, 
Not  long  should  Roderick  Dhu^s  renown 
Be  foremost  voiced  by  mountain  fame. 
But  quail  ^  to  that  of  Malcolm  Graeme. 

XXVI. 

Now  back  they  wend  their  watery  way, 
And,  "  0  my  sire  ! "  did  Ellen  say, 
^^  Why  urge  thy  chase  so  far  astray  ? 
And  why  so  late  returned  ?     And  why  " — 
The  rest  was  in  her  speaking  eye. 
"  My  child,  the  chase  I  follow  far, 
^Tis  mimicry  '^  of  noble  war  ; 
And  with  that  gallant  pastime  reft 
Were  all  the  Douglas  I  have  left.       * 
I  met  young  Malcolm  as  I  strayed 
Far  eastward,  in  Glenfinlas^  ^  shade  ; 
Nor  strayed  I  safe,  for  all  around 
Hunters  and  horsemen  scoured  the  ground. 
This  youth,  though  still  a  royal  ward,* 
Eisked  life  and  land  to  be  my  guard. 
And  through  the  passes  of  the  wood 
Guided  my  steps,  not  unpursued  ; 
And  Roderick  shall  his  welcome  make. 
Despite  old  spleen/  for  Douglas^  sake. 
Then  must  he  seek  Strath-Endrick  ®  glen. 
Nor  peril  aught  for  me  again. ^' 

XXVII. 

Sir  Roderick,  who  to  meet  them  came. 
Reddened  at  sight  of  Malcolm  Graeme, 

*  cower.  2  imitation.  ^  old  quarrels. 

3  wooded  valley  northeast  of  the  Trosachs.        ^  valley  drained  by  the  stream  (Endrick- 

*  under  the  king's  guardianship,  water)  which  flows  into  Loch  Lomond. 


60  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  [canto 

Yet^  not  in  action,  word,  or  eye, 

Failed  aught  in  hospitality. 

In  talk  and  sport  they  whiled  away 

The  morning  of  that  summer  day  ; 

But  at  high  noon  a  courier  ^  light 

Held  secret  parley  ^  with  the  knight. 

Whose  moody  aspect  soon  declared 

That  evil  was  the  news  he  heard. 

Deep  thought  seemed  toiling  in  his  head  ; 

Yet  was  the  evening  banquet  made 

Ere  he  assembled  round  the  flame 

His  mother,  Douglas,  and  the  Graeme, 

And  Ellen  too  ;  then  cast  around 

His  eyes,  then  fixed  them  on  the  ground. 

As  studying  phrase  that  might  avail 

Best  to  convey  unpleasant  tale. 

Long  with  his  dagger^s  hilt  he  played. 

Then  raised  his  haughty  brow,  and  said  : — 

XXVIII. 

''  Short  be  my  speech  ; — nor  time  affords, 
Nor  my  plain  temper,  glozing  ^  words. 
Kinsmen  and  father, — if  such  name 
Douglas  vouchsafe  to  Eoderick^s  claim  ; 
Mine  honored  mother  ; — Ellen, — why. 
My  cousin,  turn  away  thine  eye  ? 
And  Graeme,  in  whom  I  hope  to  know 
Full  soon  a  noble  friend  or  foe. 
When  age  shall  give  thee  thy  command. 
And  leading  in  thy  native  land, — 
List  all  !     The  King^s  vindictive  pride 
Boasts  to  have  tamed  the  Border-side,* 

^  messenger  sent  in  haste.  lessness  of  Border  chiefs.     He  dealt  out 

2  conference.  ^  flattering  ;  deceptive,     stern  justice  to  them,  and  then  "tamed" 

4  In  1529  James  V.  strove  to  quell  the  law-     many  of  the  Highland  chiefs. 


II.]  THE   ISLAND.  61 

Where  chiefs,  with  hound  and  hawk  who  came 

To  share  their  monarch's  sylvan  game. 

Themselves  in  bloody  toils  were  snared. 

And  when  the  banquet  they  prepared. 

And  wide  their  loyal  portals  ^  flung. 

O'er  their  own  gateway  struggling  hung. 

Loud  cries  their  blood  from  Meggat's  ^  mead. 

From  Yarrow  ^  braes  ^  and  banks  of  Tweed, 

Where  the  lone  streams  of  Ettrick  ^  glide. 

And  from  the  silver  Teviot's  ^  side  ; 

The  dales,  where  martial  clans  did  ride, 

Are  now  one  sheep-walk,  waste  and  wide. 

This  tyrant  of  the  Scottish  throne. 

So  faithless  and  so  ruthless  *  known. 

Now  hither  comes  ;  his  end  the  same. 

The  same  pretext  ^  of  sylvan  game. 

What  grace  for  Highland  Chiefs,  judge  ye 

By  fate  of  Border  chivalry. 

Yet  more  ;  amid  Glenfinlas'  green, 

Douglas,  thy  stately  form  was  seen. 

This  by  espial  ^  sure  I  know  : 

Your  counsel  in  the  streight '  I  show."® 

XXIX. 

Ellen  and  Margaret  fearfully 
Sought  comfort  in  each  other^s  eye. 
Then  turned  their  ghastly  look,  each  one. 
This  to  her  sire,  that  to  her  son. 
The  hasty  color  went  and  came 
In  the  bold  cheek  of  Malcolm  Graeme, 
But  from  his  glance  it  well  appeared 
'Twas  but  for  Ellen  that  he  feared  ; 

1  gates.  6  (here  accented  on  second  syllable)  excuse. 

2  streams  flowing  into  the  Tweed.  *  observation  made  by  means  of  spies. 

3  hillsides.  ^  (gtrait)  difficulty, 

4  without  pity.  8  desire  (to  be  given  me.) 


62  THE    LADY   OF   THE    LAKE.  [cANTO 

While,  sorrowful,  but  undismayed. 

The  Douglas  thus  his  counsel  said  : 

^^  Brave  Koderick,  though  the  tempest  roar. 

It  may  but  thunder  and  pass  o^er  ; 

Nor  will  I  here  remain  an  hour, 

To  draw  the  lightning  on  thy  bower  ; 

For  well  thou  know^'st,  at  this  gray  head 

The  royal  bolt  ^  were  fiercest  sped. 

For  thee,  who,  at  thy  King^s  command. 

Canst  aid  him  with  a  gallant  band. 

Submission,  homage,  humbled  pride. 

Shall  turn  the  Monarches  wrath  aside. 

Poor  remnants  of  the  Bleeding  Heart, 

Ellen  and  I  will  seek  apart 

The  refuge  of  some  forest  cell. 

There,  like  the  hunted  quarry,  dwell. 

Till  on  the  mountain  and  the  moor 

The  stern  pursuit  be  passed  and  o'er.^" — 

XXX. 

''No,  by  mine  honor, ^^  Eoderick  said, 

'^  So  help  me  Heaven,  and  my  good  blade  ! 

No,  never  !     Blasted  be  yon  Pine, 

My  father's  ancient  crest  and  mine. 

If  from  its  shade  in  danger  part 

The  lineage  ^  of  the  Bleeding  Heart  ! 

Hear  my  blunt  speech :  grant  me  this  maid 

To  wife,  thy  counsel  to  mine  aid  : 

To  Douglas,  leagued  with  Eoderick  Dhu, 

Will  friends  and  allies  flock  enow  ;  ^ 

Like  cause  of  doubt,  distrust,  and  grief. 

Will  bind  to  us  each  Western  Chief. 

1  the  king's  anger  is  likened  to  a  destruc-        ^  those  who  belong  to  the  family  or  line, 
tive  thunder-bolt.  ^  enough. 


II.]  THE   ISLAND.  63 

When  the  loud  pipes  my  bridal  tell^ 

The  Links '  of  Forth  shall  hear  the  knell. 

The  guards  shall  start  in  Stirling's  porch  ; 

And  when  I  light  the  nuptial  ^  torch, 

A  thousand  villages  in  flames 

Shall  scare  the  slumbers  of  King  James  !  — 

Nay,  Ellen,  blench  ^  not  thus  away. 

And,  mother,  cease  these  signs,*  I  pray  ; 

I  meant  not  all  my  heat  might  say. — 

Small  need  of  inroad  or  of  fight. 

When  the  sage  Douglas  may  unite 

Each  mountain  clan  in  friendly  band, 

To  guard  the  passes  of  their  land. 

Till  the  foiled  ^  King  from  pathless  glen 

Shall  bootless  ^  turn  him  home  again.'' 

XXXI. 

There  are  ^  who  have,  at  midnight  hour. 

In  slumber  scaled  a  dizzy  tower. 

And,  on  the  verge  that  beetled  ^  o'er  ' 

The  ocean  tide's  incessant  ^  roar. 

Dreamed  calmly  out  their  dangerous  dream. 

Till  wakened  by  the  morning  beam  ; 

When,  dazzled  by  the  eastern  glow. 

Such  startler  cast  his  glance  below. 

And  saw  unmeasured  depth  around. 

And  heard  unintermitted  ^°  sound. 

And  thought  the  battled  fence  "  so  frail. 

It  waved  like  cobweb  in  the  gale  ; — 

Amid  his  senses'  giddy  wheel. 

Did  he  not  desperate  impulse  feel, 

'  the  windings  and  meadows  of  the  Forth  ^  unsuccessful, 

at  StirUng.  ">  there  are  those  who,  etc. 

2  marriage.  '  shrink.  "  hung ;  projected  heavily. 

*  here,  sign  of  the  cross,  meaning  "  Heaven  »  unceasing, 

preserve  us  !  "  '"  without  pause. 

^  defeated.  n  defensive  wall,  or  battlement. 


64  THE  LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Headlong  fco  plunge  himself  below^ 

And  meet  the  worst  his  fears  foreshow  ? — 

Thus  Ellen^  dizzy  and  astound/ 

As  sudden  ruin  yawned  around. 

By  crossing  terrors  wildly  tossed. 

Still  for  the  Douglas  fearing  most. 

Could  scarce  the  desperate  thought  withstand. 

To  buy  his  safety  with  her  hand. 

XXXII. 

Such  purpose  dread  could  Malcolm  spy 

In  Ellen^s  quivering  lip  and  eye. 

And  eager  rose  to  speak, — but  ere 

His  tongue  could  hurry  forth  his  fear. 

Had  Douglas  marked  the  hectic  strife,^ 

Where  death  seemed  combating  with  life  ; 

For  to  her  cheek,  in  feverish  flood. 

One  instant  rushed  the  throbbing  blood. 

Then  ebbing  back,  with  sudden  sway. 

Left  its  domain  as  wan  ^  as  clay. 

''  Eoderick,  enough  !  enough  ! "  he  cried, 

''  My  daughter  cannot  be  thy  bride  ; 

Not  that  the  blush  to  wooer  dear, 

]^or  paleness  that  of  maiden  fear. 

It  may  not  be, — forgive  her.  Chief, 

Nor  hazard  aught  for  our  relief. 

Against  his  sovereign,  Douglas  ne^er 

Will  level  a  rebellious  spear. 

^Twas  I  that  taught  his  youthful  hand 

To  rein  a  steed  and  wield  a  brand  ; 

I  see  him  yet,  the  princely  boy  ! 

Not  Ellen  more  my  pride  and  joy  ; 

1  stunned.  ^  colorless. 

2  alternation  of  flushing  and  pallor  in  her  cheek. 


II.]  THE    ISLA^T).  65 

I  love  liim  still,  despite  my  vrongs 
By  hasty  "wrath  and  slanderous  ^  tongues. 
0.  seek  the  grace  you  well  may  find. 
"Without  a  cause  to  mine  combined  I " 

XXXIII. 

Twice  through  the  hall  the  Chieftain  strode  : 
The  waving  of  his  tartans  broad. 
And  darkened  brow,  where  wounded  pride 
With  ire  and  disappointment  vied. 
Seemed,  by  the  torch's  gloomy  light. 
Like  the  ill  Demon  of  the  night, 
Stooping  his  pinions' '  shadowy  sway 
Upon  the  nighted  ^  pilgrim's  way  : 
But,  unrequited  Love  I  thy  dart 
Plunged  deepest  its  envenomed  ^  smart. 
And  Roderick,  with  thine  anguish  stung. 
At  length  the  hand  of  Douglas  wrung, 
While  eyes  that  mocked  at  tears  before 
With  bitter  drops  were  running  o'er. 
The  death-pangs  of  long-cherished  hope 
Scarce  in  that  ample  breast  had  scope. 
But,  struggling  with  his  spirit  proud. 
Convulsive  heaved  its  checkered  shroud,' 
While  every  sob — so  mute  were  all — 
Was  heard  distinctly  through  the  hall. 
The  son's  despair,  the  mother's  look, 
111  might  the  gentle  Ellen  brook  : 
She  rose,  and  to  her  side  there  came. 
To  aid  her  parting  steps,  the  Graeme. 

XXXIV. 

Then  Roderick  from  the  Douglas  broke — 
As  flashes  flame  through  sable  smoke, 

1  uttering  false  reports.  '  overtaken  by  nioht-  » tartan  plaid  coverina. 

'wings.  4  poisoned. 

5 


66  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Kindling  its  wreathS;,  long,  dark,  and  low, 

To  one  broad  blaze  of  ruddy  glow, 

So  the  deep  anguish  of  despair 

Burst,  in  fierce  jealousy,  to  air. 

With  stalwart  grasp  his  hand  he  laid 

On  Malcolm^s  breast  and  belted  plaid  : 

*'  Back,  beardless  boy  ! "  he  sternly  said, 

*'  Back,  minion  !  ^  holdst  thou  thus  at  naught 

The  lesson  I  so  lately  taught  ? 

This  roof,  the  Douglas,  and  that  maid. 

Thank  thou  for  punishment  delayed." 

Eager  as  greyhound  on  his  game. 

Fiercely  with  Eoderick  grappled  Graeme. 

*^  Perish  my  name,  if  aught  afford 

Its  Chieftain  safety  save  his  sword  !  " 

Thus  as  they  strove  their  desperate  hand 

Griped  to  the  dagger  or  the  brand. 

And  death  had  been — but  Douglas  rose. 

And  thrust  between  the  struggling  foes 

His  giant  strength  : — ^'  Chieftains,  forego  ! 

I  hold  the  first  who  strikes  my  foe. — 

Madmen,  forbear  your  frantic  jar  ! 

What  !  is  the  Douglas  fallen  so  far. 

His  daughter's  hand  is  deemed  the  spoil 

Of  such  dishonorable  broil  ?  "' 

Sullen  and  slowly  they  unclasp. 

As  struck  with  shame,  their  desperate  grasp. 

And  each  npon  his  rival  glared. 

With  foot  advanced  and  blade  half  bared. 

XXXV. 

Ere  yet  the  brands  aloft  were  flung, 
Margaret  on  Roderick's  mantle  hung, 
And  Malcolm  heard  his  Ellen  scream, 
As  faltered  through  terrific  dream. 

1  unworthy  object,  though  once  a  term  of  endearment. 


11.]  THE   ISLAND.  67 

Then  Roderick  plunged  in  sheath  his  sword, 
And  veiled  his  wrath  in  scornful  word  : 
''  Rest  safe  till  morning  ;  pity  ^twere 
Such  cheek  ^  should  feel  the  midnight  air  ! 
Then  mayst  thou  to  James  Stuart  tell, 
Roderick  will  keep  the  lake  and  fell,^ 
Nor  lackey  ^  with  his  freeborn  clan 
The  pageant "  pomp  of  earthly  man. 
More  would  he  of  Clan- Alpine  know. 
Thou  canst  our  strength  and  passes  show. — 
Malise,  what  ho  !  '^ — his  henchman  ^  came  : 
"  Give  our  safe-conduct  to  the  Graeme."'' 
Young  Malcolm  answered,  calm  and  bold  : 
^^  Fear  nothing  for  thy  favorite  hold  ; 
The  spot  an  angel  deigned  "  to  grace 
Is  blessed,  though  robbers  haunt  the  place. 
Thy  churlish  ''  courtesy  for  those 
Reserve,  who  fear  to  be  thy  foes. 
As  safe  to  me  the  mountain  way 
At  midnight  as  in  blaze  of  day. 
Though  with  his  boldest  at  his  back 
Even  Roderick  Dhu  beset  the  track. — 
Brave  Douglas, — lovely  Ellen, — nay, 
Naught  here  of  parting  will  I  say. 
Earth  does  not  hold  a  lonesome  glen 
So  secret  but  we  meet  again. — 
Chieftain  !  we  too  shall  find  an  hour,"" — 
He  said,  and  left  the  sylvan  bower. 

XXXVI. 

Old  Allan  followed  to  the  strand — 
Such  was  the  Douglas's  command — 

*  This  was  a  charge  of  effeminacy  against  *  showy  display. 

Malcolm.  5  body-servant,  ready  at  all  times  to  serve 

^  a  hill.  and  defend  his  master. 

'  wait  upon  and  attend.  «  condescended.       ''  rude  ;  graceless. 


68  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [cANTO 

And  anxious  told,  how,  on  the  morn. 

The  stern  Sir  Eoderick  deep  had  sworn, 

The  Fiery  Cross  *  should  circle  o'er 

Dale,  glen,  and  valley,  down  and  moor. 

Much  were  the  peril  to  the  Graeme 

From  those  who  to  the  signal  came  ; 

Far  up  the  lake  'twere  safest  land. 

Himself  would  row  him  to  the  strand. 

He  gave  his  counsel  to  the  wind. 

While  Malcolm  did,  unheeding,  bind. 

Round  dirk  and  pouch  and  broadsword  rolled. 

His  ample  plaid  in  tightened  fold. 

And  stripped  his  limbs  to  such  array 

As  best  might  suit  the  watery  way, 

XXXVII. 

Then  spoke  abrupt  :  "  Farewell  to  thee. 

Pattern  of  old  fidelity  !  " 

The  Minstrel's  hand  he  kindly  pressed, — 

^^  0,  could  I  point  a  place  of  rest  ! 

My  sovereign  holds  in  ward  my  land. 

My  uncle  leads  my  vassal  band  ; 

To  tame  his  foes,  his  friends  to  aid. 

Poor  Malcolm  has  but  heart  and  blade. 

Yet,  if  there  be  one  faithful  Grseme 

Who  loves  the  chieftain  of  his  name, 

Not  long  shall  honored  Douglas  dwell 

Like  hunted  stag  in  mountain  cell ; 

IVor,  ere  yon  pride-swollen  robber  dare, — 

I  may  not  give  the  rest  to  air  ! 

Tell  Roderick  Dhu  I  owed  him  naught, 

Not  the  poor  service  of  a  boat. 

To  waft  me  to  yon  mountain-side." 

Then  plunged  he  in  the  flashing  tide. 

1  See  Canto  III.,  stanza  i,  note. 


ir.]  THE   ISLAND.  69 

Bold  o'er  the  flood  his  head  he  bore, 
And  stoutly  steered  him  from  the  shore  ; 
And  Allan  strained  his  anxious  eye, 
Far  mid  the  lake  his  form  to  spy, 
Darkening  across  each  puny  wave. 
To  which  the  moon  her  silver  gave. 
Fast  as  the  cormorant  ^  could  skim. 
The  swimmer  plied  each  active  limb  ; 
Then  landing  in  the  moonlight  dell. 
Loud  shouted  of  his  weal  ^  to  tell. 
The  minstrel  heard  the  far  halloo. 
And  joyful  from  the  shore  withdrew. 

*  sea-bird,  allied  to  the  pelican.  2  safety. 


CANTO   THIED. 

THE   GATHEKING. 

SUMMARY. 

Next  morning,  the  Fiery  Cross  is  sent  out  to  summon  Eoderick's  followers  to  Lanrick 
Mead.  Malise,  the  chieftain's  henchman,  flies  with  the  fatal  symbol  along  the  side  of 
Loch  Achray.  At  Duncraggan's  huts  he  hears  the  coronach  of  the  aged  warrior  Duncan. 
At  once  the  stripling  son  belts  on  his  father's  eword  and  speeds  forth  with  the  cross. 
When  he  reaches  Strath-Ire,  he  meets  a  bridal  party,  and  puts  the  signal  into  the  hand  of 
the  bridegroom,  Norman,  who  tears  himself  from  his  bride  to  speed  the  message  on.  In 
this  way  all  of  Clan  Alpine's  warriors  are  summoned. 

The  same  morning,  Douglas  and  his  daughter  leave  the  island  and  take  refuge,  with 
Allan-bane,  in  the  Goblin  Cave,  in  the  darkest  cleft  of  Benvenue.  On  the  way  to  the 
muster  at  Lanrick  Mead,  Roderick  ventures  into  the  neighborhood  of  their  cell,  and 
listens  to  Ellen's  voice  singing  a  hymn  to  the  Virgin,  to  the  accompaniment  of  the 
minstrel's  harp. 

I. 

Time  rolls  his  ceaseless  course.     The  race  of  yore. 

Who  danced  our  infancy  upon  their  knee. 
And  told  our  marvelling  boyhood  legends  ^  store 

Of  their  strange  ventures  ^  happed  ^  by  land  or  sea. 
How  they  are  blotted  from  the  things  that  be  ! 

How  few,  all  weak  and  wi  thered  of  their  force. 
Wait  on  the  verge  of  dark  eternity. 

Like  stranded  wrecks,  the  tide  returning  hoarse. 
To  sweep  them  from  our  sight  !      Time  rolls  his  ceaseless 
course. 

Yet  liye  there  still  who  can  remember  well. 
How,  when  a  mountain  chief  his  bugle  blew. 

Both  field  and  forest,  dingle,  cliff,  and  dell. 
And  solitary  heath,  the  signal  knew  ; 

And  fast  the  faithful  clan  around  him  drew, 

*  remarkable  stories.        ^  adventures  of  chance  or  danger.        3  happened ;  chanced. 


CANTO  III.]  THE   GATHERING.  71 

What  time  the  warning  note  was  keenly  wound, 
What  time  aloft  their  kindred  banner  flew, 

While  clamorous  war-pipes  yelled  the  gathering  sound, 
And  while  the  Fiery  Cross  '  glanced,  like  a  meteor,  round. 

II. 

The  Summer  dawn^s  reflected  hue 

To  purple  changed  Loch  Katrine  blue  ; 

Mildly  and  soft  the  western  breeze 

Just  kissed  the  lake,  just  stirred  the  trees. 

And  the  pleased  lake,  like  maiden  coy/ 

Trembled  but  dimpled  not  for  joy  : 

The  mountain  shadows  on  her  breast 

Were  neither  broken  nor  at  rest  ; 

In  bright  uncertainty  they  lie. 

Like  future  joys  to  Fancy^s  eye. 

The  water-lily  to  the  light 

Her  chalice  ^  reared  of  silver  bright ; 

The  doe  awoke,  and  to  the  lawn, 

Begemmed  with  dew-drops,  led  her  fawn  ; 

The  gray  mist  left  the  mountain-side. 

The  torrent  showed  its  glistening  pride  ; 

1  "  When  a  chieftain  designed  to  summon  allegiance  to  the  chief,  and  also  among  his 

his   clan  upon   any  sudden   or  important  allies  and  neighbors,  if  the  danger  was  com- 

emergency,  he  slew  a  goat,  and  making  a  mon  to  them.    At  sight  of  the  Fiery  Cross, 

cross  of  any  light  wood,  seared  its  extremi-  every  man,  from  sixteen  years  old  to  sixty, 

ties  in  the  fire,  and  extinguished  them  in  capable  of  bearing  arms,  was  obliged  in- 

the  blood  of  the  animal.    This  was  called  stantly  to  repair,  in  his  best  arms  and  ac- 

the  Fiei'y  Cross,  also  Cream  Tarigh,  or  the  coutrements,  to   the  place  of  rendezvous. 

Cross  of  Shame,  because  disobedience  to  He  who  failed  to  appear  suffered  the   ex- 

what  the  symbol  implied  inferred  infamy,  tremities  of  fire  and  sword,  which  were 

It  was  delivered  to  a  swift  and  trusty  mes-  emblematically  denounced  to  the  disobedi- 

senger,  who  ran  full  speed  with  it  to  the  ent  by  the  bloody  and  burnt  marks  upon 

next  hamlet,  where  he  presented  it  to  the  this  warlike  signal.    During  the  civil  war 

principal  person,  with  a  single  word,  im-  of  1745-46,  the  Fiery  Cross  often  made  its 

plying  the  place  of  rendezvous.    He  who  circuit ;    and  upon  one  occasion  it  passed 

received  the  symbol  was  bound  to  send  it  through  the  whole  district  of  Breadalbane, 

forward,  with  equal  despatch,  to  the  next  a  tract  of  thirty-two  miles,  in  three  hours.'' 

village  ;  and  thus  it  passed  with  incredible  — Scott. 

celerity  through  all  the  district  which  owed  2  ghy.                        3  cup  or  goblet. 


72  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Inyisible  in  flecked  '  sky 

The  lark  sent  down  her  revelry  ;  ^ 

The  blackbird  and  the  speckled  thrush 

Good-morrow  gave  from  brake  and  bush  ; 

In  answer  cooed  the  cushat  dove  ^ 

Her  notes  of  peace  and  rest  and  love. 

III. 

No  thought  of  peace,  no  thought  of  rest. 
Assuaged  the  storm  in  Eoderick^s  breast. 
With  sheathed  broadsword  in  his  hand. 
Abrupt  he  paced  the  islet  strand. 
And  eyed  the  rising  sun,  and  laid 
His  hand  on  his  impatient  blade. 
Beneath  a  rock,  his  vassals'  care 
Was  prompt  the  ritual "  to  prepare, 
With  deep  and  deathful  meaning  fraught ; 
For  such  Antiquity  ^  had  taught 
Was  preface  meet,  ere  yet  abroad 
The  Cross  of  Fire  should  take  its  road. 
The  shrinking  band  stood  off  aghast 
At  the  impatient  glance  he  cast  ; — 
Such  glance  the  mountain  eagle  threw. 
As,  from  the  cliffs  of  Benvenue, 
She  spread  her  dark  sails  on  the  wind. 
And,  high  in  middle  heaven  reclined. 
With  her  broad  shadow  on  the  lake. 
Silenced  the  warblers  of  the  brake. 

A  heap  of  withered  boughs  was  piled. 
Of  juniper  and  rowan  ®  wild. 
Mingled  with  shivers  from  the  oak, 
Eent  by  the  lightning's  recent  stroke. 

1  dotted  with  light,  fleecy  clouds.  *  performance  of  religious  service. 

2  noisy  enjoyment.  ^  olden  times  (here,  ancient  tradition). 

3  wood-pigeon.  ^  European  mountain-ash. 


III.]  THE    GATHERING.  73 

Brian  the  Hermit  by  it  stood. 
Barefooted,  in  his  frock  and  hood. 
His  grizzled  beard  and  matted  hair 
Obscured  a  visage  of  despair  ; 
His  naked  arms  and  legs,  seamed  o'er. 
The  scars  of  frantic  penance  bore. 
That  monk,  of  savage  form  and  face. 
The  impending  danger  of  his  race 
Had  drawn  from  deepest  solitude, 
Far  in  Benharrow's  '  bosom  rude. 
•   Not  his  the  mien  of  Christian  priest. 
But  Druid's,^  from  the  grave  released, 
Whose  hardened  heart  and  eye  might  brook 
On  human  sacrifice  to  look  ; 
And  much,  'twas  said,  of  heathen  lore 
Mixed  in  the  charms  he  muttered  o'er. 
The  hallowed  creed  gave  only  worse 
And  deadlier  emphasis  of  curse. 
No  peasant  sought  that  Hermit's  prayer. 
His  cave  the  pilgrim  shunned  with  care  ;  * 
The  eager  huntsman  knew  his  bound. 
And  in  mid  chase  called  off  his  hound  ; 
Or  if,  in  lonely  glen  or  strath,^ 
The  desert-dweller  met  his  path. 
He  prayed,  and  signed  the  cross  between, 
While  terror  took  devotion's  mien. 

V. 

Of  Brian's  birth  strange  tales  were  told. 
His  mother  watched  a  midnight  fold," 
Built  deep  within  a  dreary  glen. 
Where  scattered  lay  the  bones  of  men 

1  mountain  near  Loch  Lomond.  3  ^  valley  of  large  size  through  which  a 

'  i.  e.,  Druid's  mien.     The  Druids  were     river  flows, 
the  priests  of  old  Britain,  and  sometimes        *  pen  or  place  for  guarding  animals  over 
offered  human  sacrifices.  The  monk,  though     night, 
a  Christian  priest,  did  not  show  Christian  gentleness,  but  Druid  hardness  and  severity. 


74  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

In  some  forgotten  battle  slain. 

And  bleached  by  drifting  wind  and  rain. 

It  might  have  tamed  a  warrior's  heart 

To  view  such  mockery  of  his  art  ! 

The  knot-grass  ^  fettered  there  the  hand  * 

Which  once  could  burst  an  iron  band  ; 

Beneath  the  broad  and  ample  bone. 

That  bucklered  ^  heart  to  fear  unknown, 

A  feeble  and  a  timorous  guest, 

The  field-fare  ^  framed  her  lowly  nest ; 

There  the  slow  blindworm  left  his  slime 

On  the  fleet  limbs  that  mocked  at  time  ; 

And  there,  too,  lay  the  leader's  skull. 

Still  wreathed  with  chaplet,  flushed  and  full. 

For  heath-bell  with  her  purple  bloom 

Supplied  the  bonnet  and  the  plume. 

All  night,  in  this  sad  glen,  the  maid 

Sat  shrouded  in  her  mantle's  shade  : 

She  said  no  shepherd  sought  her  side, 

No  hunter's  hand  her  snood  untied,'* 

Yet  ne'er  again  to  braid  her  hair 

The  virgin  snood  did  Alice  wear  ; 

Gone  was  her  maiden  glee  and  sport. 

Her  maiden  girdle  all  too  short, 

Nor  sought  she,  from  that  fatal  night. 

Or  holy  church  or  blessed  rite. 

But  locked  her  secret  in  her  breast. 

And  died  in  travail,  unconfessed. 

YI. 

Alone,  among  his  young  compeers. 
Was  Brian  from  his  infant  years  ; 

*  twitch-grass,  difficult  to  root  out.  blematic  signification,  and  applied  to  her 
2  covered  by  a  shield.              s  thrush.          maiden  character.    It  was  exchanged  for 

*  "  The  snood,  or  riband,  with  which  a     the  curch,  toy,  or  coif,  when  she  passed,  by 
Scottish  lass  braided  her  hair,  had  an  em-    marriage,  into  the  matron  state."— Scott. 


III.]  THE    GATHERING.  75 

A  moody  and  heart-broken  boy. 
Estranged  from  sympathy  and  joy. 
Bearing  each  taunt  which  careless  tongue 
On  his  mysterious  lineage  ^  flung. 
Whole  nights  he  spent  by  moonlight  pale. 
To  wood  and  stream  his  hap  to  wail, 
.    Till,  frantic,  he  as  truth  received 
What  of  his  birth  the  crowd  believed, 
And  sought,  in  mist  and  meteor  fire,^ 
To  meet  and  know  his  Phantom  Sire  !  ^ 
In  vain,  to  soothe  his  wayward  fate, 
The  cloister  oped  her  pitying  gate  ; 
In  vain  the  learning  of  the  age 
Unclasped  the  sable-lettered  page  ;  * 
Even  in  its  treasures  he  could  find 
Food  for  the  fever  of  his  mind. 
Eager  he  read  whatever  tells 
Of  magic,  cabala,^  and  spells. 
And  every  dark  pursuit  allied 
To  curious  and  presumptuous  pride  ; 
Till  with  fired  brain  and  nerves  overstrung, 
And  heart  with  mystic  horrors  wrung. 
Desperate  he  sought  Benharrow's  den. 
And  hid  him  from  the  haunts  of  men. 

VII. 

The  desert  gave  him  visions  wild. 
Such  as  might  suit  the  spectre's  child. 
Where  with  black  cliffs  the  torrents  toil. 
He  watched  the  wheeling  eddies  boil. 
Till  from  their  foam  his  dazzled  eyes 
Beheld  the  River  Demon  ®  rise  : 

1  unknown  parentage.  ^  {pron.  kab'a-la)  mysterious  doctrine,  or 

'  shooting  star,  or  electrical  illumination  black  art. 

in  the  sky.                    3  ghostly  father.  ^  an  evil  and  malicious  spirit,   "  The  River 

*  the  black,  heavy-faced  type  was  used  in  Demon,  or  River-horse,  for  it  is  that  form 

early  books  and  manuscripts.  which  he  commonly  assumes,  is  the  Kelpy 


76  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

The  mountain  mist  took  form  and  limb 

Of  noontide  hag  '  or  goblin  ^  grim  ; 

The  midnight  wind  came  wild  and  dread. 

Swelled  with  the  voices  of  the  dead  ; 

Far  on  the  future  battle-heath 

His  eye  beheld  the  ranks  of  death  : 

Thus  the  lone  Seer^  from  mankind  hurled,  » 

Shaped  forth  a  disembodied  world/ 

One  lingering  sympathy  of  mind 

Still  bound  him  to  the  mortal  kind  ; 

The  only  parent  he  could  claim 

Of  ancient  Alpine^s  lineage  came. 

Late  had  he  heard,  in  prophet^s  dream. 

The  fatal  Ben-Shie's  *  boding  scream  ; 

Sounds/  too,  had  come  in  midnight  blast 

Of  charging  steeds,  careering  fast 

Along  Benharrow's  shingly  side. 

Where  mortal  horseman  ne'er  might  ride  ; 

The  thunderbolt  had  split  the  pine, — 

All  augured  ^  ill  to  Alpine's  line. 

He  girt  his  loins,  and  came  to  show 

The  signals  of  impending  woe, 

And  now  stood  prompt  to  bless  or  ban,' 

As  bade  the  Chieftain  of  his  clan. 

of  the  Lowlands,    an  evil  and  malicious  ^  "  A  presage  of  the  kind  alluded  to  in  the 

spirit,  delighting  to  forebode  and  to  witness  text,  is  still  believed  to  announce  death  to 

calamity." — Scott.  the  ancient  Highland  family  of  M'Lean  of 

1  ugly  old  woman.  Loch  Buy.    The  spirit  of  an  ancestor  slain 

2  evil  spirit.               ^  abode  of  spirits.  in  battle  is  heard  to  gallop  along  a  stony 
*  (banshee)  a  female  spirit  that  heralds  or  bank,  and  then  to  ride  thrice  around  the 

foretells  death.     "  Most  great  families  in  the  family  residence,  ringing  his  fairy  bridle. 

Highlands  were  supposed  to  have  a  tutelar,  and  thus  intimating  the  approaching  calam- 

or  rather  a  domestic  spirit,  attached  to  them,  ity.    How  easily  the  eye  as  well  as  the  ear 

who  took  an  interest  in  their  prosperity,  and  may  be  deceived  upon  such  occasions,  is 

intimated  by  its  wailings  any  approaching  evident  from  the  stories  of  armies  in  the  air, 

disaster.    Ben-Shie  implies  a  female  fairy,  and  other  spectral  phenomena  with  which 

whose  lamentations  were  often  supposed  to  history  abounds."— Scott. 

precede  the  death  of  a  chieftain  of  particu-  «  prophesied  ;  foretold, 

lar  families."— Scott.  '  curse. 


III.]  THE    GATHERING.  77 

VIII. 

"Twas  all  prepared  ; — and  from  the  rock 
A  goat,  the  patriarch  ^  of  the  flock, 
Before  the  kindling  pile  was  laid, 
And  pierced  by  Roderick^'s  ready  blade. 
Patient  the  sickening  victim  eyed 
The  life-blood  ebb  in  crimson  tide 
Down  his  clogged  beard  and  shaggy  limb. 
Till  darkness  glazed  his  eyeballs  dim. 
The  grisly  priest,  with  murmuring  prayer, 
A  slender  crosslet  ^  framed  with  care, 
A  cubit's  ^  length  in  measure  due  ; 
The  shaft  and  limbs- were  rods  of  yew, 
"Whose  parents  in  Inch-Cailliach  *  wave 
Their  shadows  o'er  Clan-Alpine's  grave. 
And,  answering  Lomond's  breezes  deep, 
Soothe  many  a  chieftain's  endless  sleep. 
The  Cross  thus  formed  he  held  on  high. 
With  wasted  hand  and  haggard  ^  eye. 
And  strange  and  mingled  feelings  woke. 
While  his  anathema  ^  he  spoke  : — 

IX. 

''  Woe  to  the  clansman  who  shall  view 
This  symbol'  of  sepulchral  yew,^ 
Forgetful  that  its  branches  grew 
Where  weep  the  heavens  their  holiest  dew 

On  Alpine's  dwelling  low  ! 
Deserter  of  his  Chieftain's  trust, 
He  ne'er  shall  mingle  with  their  dust. 
But,  from  his  sires  and  kindred  thrust, 

1  father  ;  leader.  6  ^jid  and  sunken. 

2  a  little  cross,  or  crucifix.  ^  a  curse  pronounced  by  the  Church. 

3  eighteen  inches.  '  sign. 

*  Isle  of  Nuns,  situate  at  the  lower  ex-         ^  an    evergreen    tree     growing     over     a 
tremity  of  Loch  Lomond.  grave. 


78  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Each  clansman's  execration  ^  just 

Shall  doom  him  wrath  ^  and  woe/^ 
He  paused  ;  the  word  the  vassals  ^  took. 
With  forward  step  and  fiery  look. 
On  high  their  naked  brands  they  shook, 
Their  clattering  targets  wildly  strook  ;  * 

And  first  in  murmur  low. 
Then,  like  the  billow  in  his  course. 
That  far  to  seaward  finds  his  source. 
And  flings  to  shore  his  mustered  force. 
Burst  with  loud  roar  their  answer  hoarse, 

'^  "Woe  to  the  traitor,  woe  !  ^' 
Ben-an^s  gray  scalp  ^  the  accents  knew. 
The  joyous  wolf  from  covert  drew. 
The  exulting  eagle  screamed  afar, — 
They  knew  the  voice  of  Alpine's  war. 

X. 

The  shout  was  hushed  on  lake  and  fell. 
The  Monk  resumed  his  muttered  spell  : 
Dismal  and  low  its  accents  came. 
The  while  he  scathed  ^  the  Cross  with  flame  ; 
And  the  few  words  that  reached  the  air. 
Although  the  holiest  name  was  there. 
Had  more  of  blasphemy  than  prayer. 
But  when  he  shook  above  the  crowd 
Its  kindled  points,  he  spoke  aloud  : 
*^Woe  to  the  wretch  who  fails  to  rear 
At  this  dread  sign  the  ready  spear  ! 
For,  as  the  flames  this  symbol  sear. 
His  home,  the  refuge  of  his  fear, 
A  kindred  fate  shall  know  ; 

1  curse.  *  obsolete  form  of  struck. 

2  object  of  preposition  to,  understood.  ^  the  mountain's  bare,  rocky  summit. 

3  persons  living  on  lands  of  a  superior,  on        *  charred  ;  burnt, 
condition  of  rendering  military  service  whenever  required. 


III.]  THE   GATHERING.  79 

Far  o^er  its  roof  the  volumed  flame 
Clan- Alpine's  vengeance  shall  proclaim. 
While  maids  and  matrons  oil  his  name 
Shall  call  down  wretchedness  and  shame, 

And  infamy  ^  and  woe." 
Then  rose  the  cry  of  females,  shrill 
As  goshawk's  "^  whistle  on  the  hill. 
Denouncing  misery  and  ill. 
Mingled  with  childhood's  babbling  trill 

Of  curses  stammered  slow  ; 
Answering  with  imprecation  dread, 
^^Sunk  be  his  home  in  embers  red  ! 
And  cursed  be  the  meanest  shed 
That  e'er  shall  hide  the  houseless  head 

We  doom  to  want  and  woe  ! " 
A  sharp  and  shrieking  echo  gave, 
Coir-Uriskin,^  thy  goblin  cave  ! 
And  the  gray  pass  where  birches  wave 

On  Beala-nam-bo." 

XI. 

Then  deeper  paused  the  priest  anew. 
And  hard  his  laboring  breath  he  drew. 
While,  with  set  teeth  and  clenched  hand. 
And  eyes  that  glowed  like  fiery  brand. 
He  meditated  curse  more  dread, 
And  deadlier,  on  the  clansman's  head 
Who,  summoned  to  his  chieftain's  aid. 
The  signal  saw  and  disobeyed. 

1  public  disgrace.  so  as  to  give  complete  shelter.    The  Urisk 

2  brown  hawk  (lit.,  goose-hawk).  is   the   equivalent  of   the  Grecian    Satyr, 

3  a  hollow  cave  in  the  side  of  Benvenue,  having  a  human  form  with  goat's  feet."— 
the  haunt  of  evil  spirits,  or  Coir-nam-Uris-  Taylor. 

kin  ("  the  corry,  or  den,  of  the  wild  men  ").  *  a  glade  on  the  mountain  side,  frequented 

"  A  hollow  cleft  in  the  northern  side  of  Ben-  by  cattle,  or  the  pass  of  cattle  : — "  is  a  most 

venue,  supposed  to  be  haunted  by  fairies  magnificent    glade,    overhung    with    aged 

and   evil    spirits.      It    is  surrounded    by  birch-trees,  a  little  higher  up  the  mountain 

rocks  and   overshadowed    by  birch-trees,  than  the  Coir-nam-Uriskin." — Scott. 


80  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

The  crosslet^s  points  of  sparkling  wood 
He  quenched  among  the  bubbling  blood. 
And,  as  again  the  sign  he  reared, 
Hollow  and  hoarse  his  voice  was  heard  : 
^'  When  flits  this  Cross  from  man  to  man, 
Vich-Alpine^s  summons  to  his  clan. 
Burst  be  the  ear  that  fails  to  heed  ! 
Palsied  the  foot  that  shuns  to  speed  ! 
May  ravens  tear  the  careless  eyes. 
Wolves  make  the  coward  heart  their  prize  ! 
As  sinks  that  blood-stream  in  the  earth. 
So  may  his  heart's-blood  drench  his  hearth ! 
As  dies  in  hissing  gore  ^  the  spark. 
Quench  thou  his  light.  Destruction  dark  ! 
And  be  the  grace  ^  to  him  denied. 
Brought  by  this  sign  to  all  beside  ! " 
He  ceased  ;  no  echo  gave  again 
The  murmur  of  the  deep  Amen.^ 

XII. 

Then  Roderick  with  impatient  look 
From  Brian^s  hand  the  symbol  took  : 
''  Speed,  Malise,  speed  ! "  he  said,  and  gave 
The  crosslet  to  his  henchman  brave. 
"The  muster-place  be  Lanrick*  mead — 
Instant  the  time — speed,  Malise,  speed  !  " 
Like  heath-bird,  when  the  hawks  pursue, 
A  barge  across  Loch  Katrine  flew  : 
High  stood  the  henchman  on  the  prow  ; 
So  rapidly  the  barge-men  row. 
The  bubbles,  where  they  launched  the  boat. 
Were  all  unbroken  and  afloat, 

1  blood.  3  muttered  so  low,  in  great  earnestness, 

2  consolations  of  Christianity,  tlie  cross     that  an  echo  could  not  repeat  it. 

being  its  symbol.  ■*  meadow  at  western  end  of  Loch  Ven- 

uachar. 


III.]  THE   GATHERING.  81 

Dancing  in  foam  and  ripple  stilly, 
When  it  had  neared  the  mainland  hill ; 
And  from  the  silver  beach^'s  side 
Still  was  the  prow  three  fathom  wide,^ 
When  lightly  bounded  to  the  land 
The  messenger  of  blood  and  brand. 


XIII. 

Speed,  Malise,  speed  !  the  dun  deer^s  hide  ^ 

On  fleeter  foot  was  never  tied. 

Speed,  Malise,  speed  !  such  cause  of  haste 

Thine  active  sinews  never  braced. 

Bend  Against  the  steepy  hill  thy  breast. 

Burst  down  like  torrent  from  its  crest  ; 

With  short  and  springing  footstep  pass 

The  trembling  bog  and  false  morass  ;  ^ 

Across  the  brook  like  roebuck  bound. 

And  thread  the  brake  like  questing  *  hound ; 

The  crag  is  high,  the  scaur  ^  is  deep. 

Yet  shrink  not  from  the  desperate  leap  : 

Parched  are  thy  burning  lips  and  brow. 

Yet  by  the  fountain  pause  not  now ; 

Herald  of  battle,  fate,  and  fear, 

Stretch  onward  in  thy  fleet  career  ! 

The  wounded  hind  "  thou  track^st  not  now, 

Pursuest  not  maid  through  greenwood  bough, 

Nor  pliest  thou  now  thy  flying  pace 

With  rivals  in  the  mountain  race  ; 

But  danger,  death,  and  warrior  deed 

Are  in  thy  course — speed,  Malise,  speed  ! 

1  eighteen  feet  distant.  3  spongy  ground. 

2  the  ancient  buskin  of  the  Highlander        *  hunting  ;  seelcing  about, 
was  made  of  the  undressed  deer's  hide,  with        ^  bare  face  of  a  cliff. 

the  hair  outwards.  «  female  deer. 

6 


82  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

XIV. 

Fast  as  the  fatal  symbol  flies, 

In  arms  the  huts  and  hamlets  rise  ; 

From  winding  glen,  from  upland  brown. 

They  poured  each  hardy  tenant  down. 

Nor  slacked  the  messenger  his  pace  ; 

He  showed  the  sign,  he  named  the  place. 

And,  pressing  forward  like  the  wind. 

Left  clamor  and  surprise  behind. 

The  fisherman  forsook  the  strand. 

The  swarthy  smith  took  dirk  and  brand  ; 

With  changed  cheer,  the  mower  blithe 

Left  in  the  half-cut  swath  '  his  scythe  ; 

The  herds  without  a  keeper  strayed. 

The  plough  was  in  mid-furrow  stayed. 

The  falconer  tossed  his  hawk  away. 

The  hunter  left  the  stag  at  bay  ; 

Prompt  at  the  signal  of  alarms. 

Each  son  of  Alpine  rushed  to  arms  ; 

So  swept  the  tumult  and  affray 

Along  the  margin  of  Achray. 

Alas,  thou  lovely  lake  !  that  e^er 

Thy  banks  should  echo  sounds  of  fear  ! 

The  rocks,  the  bosky  ^  thickets,  sleep 

So  stilly  on  thy  bosom  deep. 

The  lark^s  blithe  carol  from  the  cloud 

Seems  for  the  scene  too  gayly  loud. 

XV. 

Speed,  Malise,  speed  !     The  lake  is  past, 
Duncraggan^s  ^  huts  appear  at  last. 
And  peep,  like  moss-grown  rocks,  half  seen. 
Half  hidden  in  the  copse  so  green  ; 

1  grass  cut  by  the  sweep  of  a  scythe  in        ^  situated  near  the  Brigg  of  Turk,  between 
mowing.  2  bushy.  Lochs  Achray  and  Vennachar. 


III.]  THE   GATHERING.  88 

There  mayst  thou  rest,  thy  labor  done, 
Their  lord  shall  speed  the  signal  on. — 
As  stoops  the  hawk  upon  his  prey, 
The  henchman  shot  him  down  the  way. 
What  woeful  accents  load  the  gale  ? 
The  funeral  yell,  the  female  wail  ! 
A  gallant  hunter^s  sport  is  o'er, 
A  valiant  warrior  fights  no  more. 
Who,  in  the  battle  or  the  chase. 
At  Eoderick's  side  shall  fill  his  place  ! — 
Within  the  hall,  where  torches  ray 
Supplies  the  excluded  beams  of  day, 
Lies  Duncan  on  his  lowly  bier. 
And  o'er  him  streams  his  widow's  tear. 
His  stripling  son  stands  mournful  by. 
His  youngest  weeps,  but  knows  not  why  ; 
The  village  maids  and  matrons  round 
The  dismal  coronach  ^  resound. 

XVI. 

CORONACH. 

He  is  gone  on  the  mountain. 

He  is  lost  to  the  forest. 
Like  a  summer-dried  fountain,    ^ 

When  our  need  was  the  sorest. 
The  font,  reappearing. 

From  the  rain-drops  shall  borrow. 
But  to  us  comes  no  cheering. 

To  Duncan  no  morrow  ! 

The  hand  of  the  reaper 

Takes  the  ears  that  are  hoary, '^ 

But  the  voice  of  the  weeper 
Wails  manhood  in  glory. 

^  funeral  dirge,  ?  white  and  ripe  for  harvest 


84  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

The  autumn  winds  rushing 
Waft  the  leaves  that  are  searest/ 

But  our  flower  was  in  flushing, 
When  blighting  was  nearest. 

Fleet  foot  on  the  correi/ 

Sage  counsel  in  cumber,^ 
Ked  hand  in  the  foray. 

How  sound  is  thy  slumber  ! 
Like  the  dew  on  the  mountain, 

Like  the  foam  on  the  river, 
Like  the  bubble  on  the  fountain, 

Thou  art  gone,  and  forever  ! 

XVTT. 

See  Stumah,"  who,  the  bier  beside, 

His  master^s  corpse  with  wonder  eyed. 

Poor  Stumah  !  whom  his  least  halloo 

Could  send  like  lightning  o'er  the  dew. 

Bristles  his  crest,  and  points  his  ears. 

As  if  some  stranger  step  he  hears. 

^Tis  not  a  mourner's  muffled  tread. 

Who  comes  to  sorrow  o'er  the  dead. 

But  headlong  haste  or  deadly  fear 

Urge  the  precipitate  career. 

All  stand  aghast  : — unheeding  all. 

The  henchman  bursts  into  the  hall; 

Before  the  dead  man's  bier  he  stood, 

Held  forth  the  Cross  besmeared  with  blood  ] 

^^The  muster-place  is  Lanrick  mead  ; 

Speed  forth  the  signal  !  clansmen,  speed  ! " 

XVIII. 

Angus,  the  heir  of  Duncan's  line. 
Sprung  forth  and  seized  the  fatal  sign. 

^  dryest.  ^  trouble  or  anxiety, 

2  the  hollow  side  of  a  hill,  f  rec[uented  by  game.      *  ' '  faithful  ;  "  the  name  of  a  dog 


III.]  THE   GATHERING-.  85 

In  haste  the  stripling  to  his  side 

His  father^s  dirk  and  broadsword  tied ; 

But  when  he  saw  his  mother^s  eye 

Watch  him  in  speechless  agony. 

Back  to  her  opened  arms  he  flew. 

Pressed  on  her  lips  a  fond  adieu, — 

"Alas  !"  she  sobbed,— '^^ and  yet  be  gone. 

And  speed  thee  forth,  like  Duncan^s  son  ! '' 

One  look  he  cast  upon  the  bier. 

Dashed  from  his  eye  the  gathering  tear. 

Breathed  deep  to  clear  his  laboring  breast. 

And  tossed  aloft  his  bonnet  crest. 

Then,  like  the  high-bred  colt  when,  freed. 

First  he  essays  ^  his  fire  and  speed. 

He  vanished,  and  o^er  moor  and  moss 

Sped  forward  with  the  Fiery  Cross. 

Suspended  was  the  widow's  tear 

While  yet  his  footsteps  she  could  hear ; 

And  when  she  marked  the  henchman^s  eye 

Wet  with  unwonted  sympathy, 

^^  Kinsman,"  she  said,  'Miis  race  is  run 

That  should  have  sped  thine  errand  on  ; 

The  oak  has  fallen,— the  sapling  bough 

Is  all  Duncraggan's  shelter  now. 

Yet  trust  I  well,  his  duty  done. 

The  orphan's  God  will  guard  my  son. — 

And  you,  in  many  a  danger  true, 

At  Duncan's  best  ^  your  blades  that  drew. 

To  arms,  and  guard  that  orphan's  head  ! 

Let  babes  and  women  wail  the  dead.''' 

Then  weapon-clang  and  martial  call 

Eesounded  through  the  funeral  hall, 

While  from  the  walls  the  attendant  band 

Snatched  sword  and  targe  ^  with  hurried  hand  ; 

^  tries.  2  (behest)  command,  bidding.  3  shield. 


86  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

And  short  and  flitting  energy 

Glanced  from  the  mourner^s  sunken  eye. 

As  if  the  sounds  to  warrior  dear 

Might  rouse  her  Duncan  from  his  bier. 

But  faded  soon  that  borrowed  force  ; 

Grief  claimed  his  right,  and  tears  their  course. 

XIX. 

Benledi  saw  the  Cross  of  Fire, 
It  glanced  like  lightning  up  Strath-Ire.* 
O'er  dale  and  hill  the  summons  flew, 
[N'or  rest  nor  pause  young  Angus  knew  ; 
The  tear  that  gathered  in  his  eye 
He  left  the  mountain-breeze  to  dry  ; 
Until,  where  Teith's  young  waters  roll 
Betwixt  him  and  a  wooded  knoll 
That  graced  the  sable  strath  with  green. 
The  chapel  of  Saint  Bride  ^  was  seen. 
Swoln  was  the  stream,  remote  the  bridge. 
But  Angus  paused  not  on  the  edge  ; 
Though  the  dark  waves  danced  dizzily. 
Though  reeled  his  sympathetic  eye. 
He  dashed  amid  the  torrent's  roar  : 
His  right  hand  high  the  crosslet  bore. 
His  left  the  pole-axe  grasped,  to  guide 
And  stay  his  footing  in  the  tide. 
He  stumbled  twice, — the  foam  splashed  high. 
With  hoarser  swell  the  stream  raced  by ; 
And  had  he  fallen, — forever  there. 
Farewell  Duncraggan's  orphan  heir  ! 
But  still,  as  if  in  parting  life. 
Firmer  he  grasped  the  Cross  of  strife, 

1  valley  above  Loch  Lubnaig,  east  of  Ben       ^  small  romantic  knoll  in  the  middle  of 
Ledi,  watered  by  the  Teith  in  its  upper  course.    Strath-Ire. 


III.]  THE   GATHERING.  87 

Until  the  opposing  bank  lie  gained. 
And  up  the  chapel  pathway  strained. 

XX. 

A  blithesome  rout  that  morning-tide 
Had  sought  the  chapel  of  Saint  Bride. 
Her  troth  ^  Tombea^s  Mary  gave 
To  Norman,  heir  of  Armandave, 
And,  issuing  from  the  Gothic  arch, 
The  bridal  now  resumed  their  march. 
In  rude  but  glad  procession  came 
Bonneted  sire  and  coif-clad  "^  dame  ; 
And  plaided  youth,  with  jest  and  jeer. 
Which  snooded  maiden  would  not  hear  ; 
And  children,  that,  unwitting  why, 
Lent  the  gay  shout  their  shrilly  cry  ; 
And  minstrels,  that  in  measures  vied 
Before  the  young  and  bonny  bride, 
Whose  downcast  eye  and  cheek  disclose 
The  tear  and  blush  of  morning  rose. 
With  virgin  step  and  bashful  hand 
She  held  the  kerchiefs  snowy  band. 
The  gallant  bridegroom  by  her  side 
Beheld  his  prize  with  victor's  pride. 
And  the  glad  mother  in  her  ear 
Was  closely  whispering  word  of  cheer. 

XXI. 

Who  meets  them  at  the  churchyard  gate  ? 
The  messenger  of  fear  and  fate  ! 
Haste  in  his  hurried  accent  lies. 
And  grief  is  swimming  in  his  eyes. 
All  dripping  from  the  recent  flood, 
Panting  and  travel-soiled  he  stood,  ' 

^  trust ;  promise  of  raarriage.     2  cap  or  covering  for  the  head,  worn  only  by  married  women. 


88  THE   LADY   OF   THE    LAKE.  [cANTO 

The  fatal  sign  of  fire  and  sword 

Held  forth;,  and  spoke  the  appointed  word  : 

^'  The  muster-place  is  Lanrick  mead  ; 

Speed  forth  the  signal  !     Norman,  speed  I  ^^ 

And  must  he  change  so  soon  the  hand 

Just  linked  to  his  by  holy  band. 

For  the  fell  Cross  of  blood  and  brand  ? 

And  must  the  day  so  blithe  that  rose. 

And  promised  rapture  in  the  close. 

Before  its  setting  hour,  divide 

The  bridegroom  from  the  plighted  bride  ? 

0  fatal  doom  ! — it  must  !  it  must ! 

Clan-Alpine's  cause,  her  Chieftain's  trust, 

Her  summons  dread,  brook  no  delay  ; 

Stretch  to  the  race, — away  !  away  ! 

XXII. 

Yet  slow  he  laid  his  plaid  aside. 

And  lingering  eyed  his  lovely  bride. 

Until  he  saw  the  starting  tear 

Speak  woe  he  might  not  stop  to  cheer  ; 

Then,  trusting  not  a  secoud  look, 

In  haste  he  sped  him  up  the  brook, 

Nor  backward  glanced  till  on  the  heath 

Where  Lubnaig's  lake  supplies  the  Teith.^ 

What  in  the  racer's  bosom  stirred  ? 

The  sickening  pang  of  hope  deferred, 

And  memory  with  a  torturing  train 

Of  all  his  morning  visions  vain. 

Mingled  with  love's  impatience,  came 

The  manly  thirst  for  martial  fame  ; 

The  stormy  joy  of  mountaineers 

Ere  yet  they  rush  upon  the  spears  ; 

And  zeal  for  Clan  and  Chieftain  burning. 

And  hope,  from  well-fought  field  returning. 


III.]  THE    GATHERING.  89 

With  war^s  red  honors  on  his  crest, 

To  clasp  his  Mary  to  his  breast. 

Stung  by  such  thoughts,  o^er  bank  and  brae, 

Like  fire  from  flint  he  glanced  away. 

While  high  resolve  and  feeling  strong 

Burst  into  voluntary  song. 

XXIII. 

SONG. 

The  heath  this  night  must  be  my  bed. 
The  bracken  curtain  for  my  head. 
My  lullaby  the  warder^'s  tread, 

Far,  far,  from  love  and  thee,  Mary ; 
To-morrow  eve,  more  stilly  laid. 
My  couch  may  be  my  bloody  plaid. 
My  vesper  song  thy  wail,  sweet  maid  ! 

It  will  not  waken  me,  Mary  ! 

I  may  not,  dare  not,  fancy  now 

The  grief  that  clouds  thy  lovely  brow, 

I  dare  not  think  upon  thy  vow. 

And  all  it  promised  me,  Mary. 
No  fond  regret  must  Norman  know ; 
When  bursts  Clan-Alpine  on  the  foe. 
His  heart  must  be  like  bended  bow, 

His  foot  like  arrow  free,  Mary. 

A  time  will  come  with  feeling  fraught, 
Eor,  if  I  fall  in  battle  fought, 
Thy  hapless  lover's  dying  thought 

Shall  be  a  thought  on  thee,  Mary. 
And  if  returned  from  conquered  foes. 
How  blithely  will  the  evening  close. 
How  sweet  the  linnet  sing  repose. 

To  my  young  bride  and  me,  Mary  ! 


90  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

XXIY. 

Not  faster  o^er  thy  heathery  braes, 
Balquidder/  speeds  the  midnight  blaze/ 
Eushing  in  conflagration  strong 
Thy  deep  ravines  and  dells  along. 
Wrapping  thy  cliffs  in  purple  glow. 
And  reddening  the  dark  lakes  below  ; 
Nor  faster  speeds  it,  nor  so  far, 
As  o'er  thy  heaths  the  voice  of  war. 
The  signal  roused  to  martial  coil  ^ 
The  sullen  margin  of  Loch  Voil, 
Waked  still  Loch  Doine,  and  to  the  source 
Alarmed,  Balvaig,"  thy  swampy  course  ; 
Thence  southward  turned  its  rapid  road 
Adown  Strath-Gartney^s  ^  valley  broad. 
Till  rose  in  arms  each  man  might  claim 
A  portion  of  Olan-Alpine^s  name, 
From  the  gray  sire,  whose  trembling  hand 
Could  hardly  buckle  on  his  brand. 
To  the  raw  boy,  whose  shaft  and  bow 
Where  yet  scarce  terror  to  the  crow. 
Each  valley,  each  sequestered  ^  glen. 
Mustered  its  little  horde  ''  of  men. 
That  met  as  torrents  from  the  height 
In  Highland  dales  their  streams  unite. 
Still  gathering,  as  they  pour  along, 
A  voice  more  loud,  a  tide  more  strong. 
Till  at  the  rendezvous  ^  they  stood 
By  hundreds  prompt  for  blows  and  blood. 
Each  trained  to  arms  since  life  began. 
Owning  no  tie  but  to  his  clan, 

J  a  hamlet  near  Strath-Ire.  4  a  stream  flowing  from  Lochs  Voil  and 

'•*  it  was  customary  for  shepherds  to  burn  Doine  into  Lubuaig. 
off  the  tough  old  heather  to  make  room  for        ^  a  valley  close  to  Loch  Katrine, 
new  herbage  for  pasture.  ®  secluded.       '  clan,  group,  or  gathering^ 

3  warlike  tumult.  ^  meeting-place. 


III.]  THE   GATHERING.  '  91 

No  oath  but  by  his  chieftain^s  hand. 
No  law  but  Roderick  Dhu's  command. 

XXV. 

That  summer  morn  had  Roderick  Dhu 

Surveyed  the  skirts  of  Benvenue, 

And  sent  his  scouts  o^er  hill  and  heath, 

To  view  the  frontiers  of  Menteith. 

All  backward  came  with  news  of  truce  ; 

Still  lay  each  martial  Gr^me  and  Bruce, 

In  Rednock  ^  courts  no  horsemen  wait. 

No  banner  waved  on  Oardross  ^  gate. 

On  Duchray^s  ^  towers  no  beacon  shone. 

Nor  scared  the  herons  from  Loch  Con ;  * 

All  seemed  at  peace. — Now  wot  ye  why 

The  Chieftain  with  such  anxious  eye. 

Ere  to  the  muster  he  repair. 

This  western  frontier  scanned  with  care  ? — 

In  Benvenue's  most  darksome  cleft, 

A  fair  though  cruel  pledge  was  left ; 

For  Douglas,  to  his  promise  true, 

That  morning  from  the  isle  withdrew. 

And  in  a  deep  sequestered  dell 

Had  sought  a  low  and  lonely  cell. 

By  many  a  bard  in  Celtic  tongue 

Has  Coir-nam-Uriskin  been  sung  ; 

A  softer  name  the  Saxons  gave. 

And  called  the  grot  the  Groblin  Cave. 

XXVI. 

It  was  a  wild  and  strange  retreat. 
As  e^er  was  trod  by  outlaw's  feet. 

'  a  castle  about  a  mile  east  of  Lake  Men-  3  a  castle  three  miles  southwest  of  Aber- 

teith.  foyle. 

2  on  the  Forth,  a  few  miles  south  of  Red-  4  a  lake  ietween  Benvenue  and  Ben  Lo- 

nock.  mond. 


92  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

The  dell,  upon  the  mountain's  crest, 
Yawned  like  a  gash  on  warrior's  breast; 
Its  trench  had  stayed  full  many  a  rock. 
Hurled  by  primeval  ^  earthquake  shock 
Erom  Benvenue's  gray  summit  wild, 
And  here,  in  random  ^  ruin  piled. 
They  frowned  incumbent  ^  o'er  the  spot. 
And  formed  the  rugged  sylvan  grot. 
The  oak  and  birch  with  mingled  shade 
At  noontide  there  a  twilight  made. 
Unless  when  short  and  sudden  shone 
Some  straggling  beam  on  cliff  or  stone. 
With  such  a  glimpse  as  prophet's  eye 
Gains  on  thy  depth.  Futurity. 
No  murmur  waked  the  solemn  still. 
Save  tinkling  of  a  fountain  rill ; 
But  when  the  wind  chafed  with  the  lake, 
A  sullen  sound  would  upward  break, 
With  dashing  hollow  voice,  that  spoke 
The  incessant  war  of  wave  and  rock. 
Suspended  cliffs  with  hideous  sway 
Seemed  nodding  o'er  the  cavern  gray. 
From  such  a  den  the  wolf  had  sprung. 
In  such  the  wild-cat  leaves  her  young ; 
Yet  Douglas  and  his  daughter  fair 
Sought  for  a  space  their  safety  there. 
Gray  Superstition's  whisper  dread 
Debarred  the  spot  to  vulgar  tread  ; 
For  there,  she  said,  did  fays  resort. 
And  satyrs  *  hold  their  sylvan  court. 
By  moonlight  tread  their  mystic  maze, 
And  blast  the  rash  beholder's  gaze. 

1  belonging  to  the  earliest  ages.  *  sylvan   deities,    part   man,  part   goat. 

2  without  aim  or  plan.  noted  for  riotous  merriment. 

3  lying  or  resting  upon. 


III.]  THE    GATHERINa.  -  93 

XXVII. 

Now  eve,  with  western  shadows  long. 

Floated  on  Katrine  bright  and  strong. 

When  Eoderick  with  a  chosen  few 

Repassed  the  heights  of  Benvenue. 

Above  the  Goblin  Cave  they  go. 

Through  the  wild  pass  of  Beal-nam-bo ; 

The  prompt  retainers  speed  before. 

To  launch  the  shallop  from  the  shore. 

For  'cross  Loch  Katrine  lies  his  way 

To  view  the  passes  of  Achray, 

And  place  his  clansmen  in  array. 

Yet  lags  the  Chief  in  musing  mind. 

Unwonted  sight,  his  men  behind. 

A  single  page,  to  bear  his  sword, 

Alone  attended  on  his  lord  ; 

The  rest  their  way  through  thickets  break. 

And  soon  await  him  by  the  lake. 

It  was  a  fair  and  gallant  sight, 

To  view  them  from  the  neighboring  height. 

By  the  low-levelled  sunbeam^'s  light ! 

For  strength  and  stature,  from  the  clan 

Each  warrior  was  a  chosen  man. 

As  even  afar  might  well  be  seen. 

By  their  proud  step  and  martial  mien. 

Their  feathers  dance,  their  tartans  float. 

Their  targets  gleam,  as  by  the  boat 

A  wild  and  warlike  group  they  stand, 

That  well  became  such  mountain-strand. 

XXVIII, 

Their  Chief  with  step  reluctant  still 
Was  lingering  on  the  craggy  hill. 
Hard  by  where  turned  apart  the  road 
To  Douglas's  obscure  abode. 


94  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

It  was  but  with  that  dawning  morn 

That  Eoderick  Dhu  had  proudly  sworn 

To  drown  his  love  in  war^s  wild  roar. 

Nor  think  of  Ellen  Douglas  more  ; 

But  he  who  stems  a  stream  with  sand. 

And  fetters  flame  with  flaxen  band, 

Has  yet  a  harder  task  to  prove, — 

By  firm  resolve  to  conquer  love  ! 

Eve  finds  the  Chief,  like  restless  ghost. 

Still  hovering  near  his  treasure  lost ; 

Eor  though  his  haughty  heart  deny 

A  parting  meeting  to  his  eye, 

Still  fondly  strains  his  anxious  ear 

The  accents  of  her  voice  to  hear. 

And  inly  did  he  curse  the  breeze 

That  waked  to  sound  the  rustling  trees. 

But  hark  !  what  mingles  in  the  strain  ? 

It  is  the  harp  of  Allan -bane. 

That  wakes  its  measure  slow  and  high. 

Attuned  to  sacred  minstrelsy. 

What  melting  voice  attends  the  strings  ? 

^Tis  Ellen,  or  an  angel,  sings. 

XXIX. 

HYMN   TO    THE    VIRGIN. 

Ave  Maria  !  ^  maiden  mild  !  ' 

Listen  to  a  maiden^'s  prayer  ! 
Thou  canst  hear  though  from  the  wild. 

Thou  canst  save  amidst  despair. 
Safe  may  we  sleep  beneath  thy  care. 

Though  banished,  outcast,  and  reviled — 
Maiden  !  hear  a  maiden^'s  prayer  ; 

Mother,  hear  a  suppliant  child  ! 

Ave  Maria  ! 

*  ipi'on.  ah'va  mah-re'a)  Hail,  Mary  ! 


II.]  THE   GATHERING.  .  95 

Ave  Maria  !  undefiled  ! 

The  flinty  couch  we  now  must  share 
Shall  seem  with  down  ^  of  eider  piled, 

If  thy  protection  hover  there. 
The  murky  ^  cavern^s  heavy  air 

Shall  breathe  of  balm  if  thou  hast  smiled  ; 
Then,  Maiden  !  hear  a  maiden^s  prayer. 

Mother,  list  a  suppliant  child  ! 

Ave  Maria  ! 

Ave  Maria  !  stainless  styled  ! 

Foul  demons  of  the  earth  and  air, 
From  this  their  wonted  haunt  exiled. 

Shall  flee  before  thy  presence  fair. 
We  bow  us  to  our  lot  of  care. 

Beneath  thy  guidance  reconciled  : 
Hear  for  a  maid  a  maiden^s  prayer. 

And  for  a  father  hear  a  child  ! 

Ave  Maria  ! 

XXX. 

Died  on  the  harp  the  closing  hymn, — 
Unmoved  in  attitude  and  limb. 
As  listening  still.  Clan- Alpine's  lord 
Stood  leaning  on  his  heavy  sword. 
Until  the  page  with  humble  sign 
Twice  pointed  to  the  sun's  decline. 
Then  while  his  plaid  he  round  him  cast, 
"  It  is  the  last  time — 'tis  the  last," 
He  muttered  thrice, — ^^  the  last  time  e'er 
That  angel-voice  shall  Eoderick  hear  ! " 
It  was  a  goading  thought, — his  stride 
Hied  hastier  down  the  mountain-side  ; 
Sullen  he  flung  him  in  the  boat. 
And  instant  'cross  the  lake  it  shot. 

^  feathers  of  the  eider-duck,  a  seabird  living  in  the  arctic  regions.  "  dark  ;  gloomy. 


96  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto  iii. 

They  landed  in  that  silvery  bay^ 
And  eastward  held  their  hasty  way. 
Till,  with  the  latest  beams  of  light. 
The  band  arrived  on  Lanrick  height. 
Where  mustered  in  the  vale  below 
Clan-Alpine^s  men  in  martial  show. 

XXXI. 

A  various  scene  the  clansmen  made  : 

Some  sat,  some  stood,  some  slowly  strayed ; 

But  most,  with  mantles  folded  round. 

Were  couched  to  rest  upon  the  ground. 

Scarce  to  be  known  by  curious  eye 

From  the  deep  heather  where  they  lie. 

So  well  was  matched  the  tartan  screen 

With  heath-bell  dark  and  brackens  green  ; 

Unless  where,  here  and  there,  a  blade 

Or  lancets  point  a  glimmer  made, 

Like  glow-worm  twinkling  through  the  shade. 

But  when,  advancing  through  the  gloom. 

They  saw  the  Ohieftain^s  eagle  plume. 

Their  shout  of  welcome,  shrill  and  wide. 

Shook  the  steep  mountain's  steady  side. 

Thrice  it  arose,  and  lake  and  fell 

Three  times  returned  the  martial  yell  ; 

It  died  upon  Bochastle's  plain, 

And  Silence  claimed  her  evening  reign- 


CANTO   FOURTH. 

THE   PROPHECY. 

SUMMABY. 

Roderick's  monk,  Brian  the  Hermit,  has  resorted  to  augury,  in  the  hope  of  finding  out, 
now  that  the  clans  are  gathered,  what  the  issue  of  the  contest  will  be.  The  omen  fore- 
tells that  that  party  shall  conquer  which  first  spills  the  foeman's  blood.  News  now 
reaches  the  camp  that  the  Earls  of  Mar  and  Moray  will  march  against  Roderick's  force 
on  the  morrow. 

Meantime,  Douglas  has  left  for  Stirling  Castle,  having  first  instructed  Ellen  and  the 
minstrel  that  if  he  did  not  return  before  evening,  they  should  go  to  meet  him  at  Cambus- 
kenneth.  While  they  talk,  near  their  cave,  Fitz-James,  led  by  Red  Murdoch,  the  same 
guide  who  had  taken  him  from  the  island,  appears  and  declares  his  love  for  Ellen,  and 
urges  her  to  fly  with  him  for  protection  to  Stirling.  She  tells  him  that  her  heart  is  al- 
ready pledged  to  Malcolm  Graeme.  The  knight's  love  turns  into  sympathy,  and  he  gives 
her  a  signet  ring,  which  the  king  had  given  him  for  saving  his  life,  and  by  presenting 
which  to  the  king  she  may  obtain  any  favor  she  asks. 

The  knight  departs,  with  his  guide,  now  under  suspicion,  in  consequence  of  some  hint 
Ellen  has  dropped.  The  suspicion  is  strengthened  when  Blanche  of  Devan,  a  half-crazy 
woman,  meets  them  and  warns  Fitz-James.  He  charges  the  guide  with  treachery,  where- 
upon Murdoch  escapes,  but,  turning,  lets  fly  an  arrow  at  the  knight,  which  kills  Blanche. 

Fitz-James  pursues  and  slays  Murdoch.  Returning  to  Blanche,  he  finds  on  her  breast 
a  braid  of  her  bridegroom's  hair.  He  entwines  it  with  a  lock  of  his  own.  Dipping  it 
in  her  blood  and  placing  it  in  his  bonnet,  he  swears  to  wear  no  other  favor  till  he  has  im- 
brued it  in  the  blood  of  Roderick  Dhu,  for  it  was  he  who  had  slain  Blanche's  husband  on 
their  bridal  morn.  Wandering  onward  alone,  he  comes  in  the  evening  upon  the  en- 
campment of  a  solitary  Highlander,  who  receives  him  hospitably  and  shares  with  him  his 
plaid  and  heather  couch  for  the  night,  promising  that  on  the  morrow  he  will  guide  him 
on  the  way. 

I. 

'^  The  rose  is  fairest  when  "tis  budding  new. 

And  hope  is  brightest  when  it  dawns  from  fears ; 
The  rose  is  sweetest  washed  with  morning  dew. 

And  love  is  loveliest  when  embalmed  in  tears. 
0  wilding  ^  rose,  whom  fancy  thus  endears, 

I  bid  your  blossoms  in  my  bonnet  wave. 
Emblem  of  hope  and  love  through  future  years  \'' 

Thus  spoke  young  Norman,  heir  of  Armandave, 
What  time  the  sun  arose  on  Vennachar's  broad  wave. 

1  poetic  for  "  wild." 
7 


98  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

II. 

Such  fond  conceit/  half  said,  half  sung, 

Love  prompted  to  the  bridegroom^s  tongue. 

All  while  he  stripped  the  wild-rose  spray, 

His  axe  and  bow  beside  him  lay. 

For  on  a  pass  ^twixt  lake  and  wood 

A  wakeful  sentinel  he  stood. 

Hark  ! — on  the  rock  a  footstep  rung. 

And  instant  to  his  arms  he  sprung. 

"  Stand,  or  thou  diest  ! — What,  Malise  ? — soon 

Art  thou  returned  from  Braes  of  Doune.'^ 

By  thy  keen  step  and  glance  I  know 

Thou  bring^st  us  tidings  of  the  foe.^' — 

For  while  the  Fiery  Cross  hied  on. 

On  distant  scout  had  Malise  gone. — 

^^  Where  sleeps  the  Chief  ?^'  the  henchman  said. 

'^  Apart,  in  yonder  misty  glade  ; 

To  his  lone  couch  Fll  be  your  guide." — 

Then  called  a  slumberer  by  his  side. 

And  stirred  him  with  his  slacked  bow, — 

''^Up,  up,  Glentarkin  !  rouse  thee,  ho  ! 

We  seek  the  Chieftain  ;  on  the  track 

Keep  eagle  watch  till  I  come  back.^' 

III. 

Together  up  the  pass  they  sped  : 

^^  What  of  the  foeman  V  ISTorman  said. — 

''  Varying  reports  from  near  and  far  ; 

This  certain, — that  a  band  of  war 

Has  for  two  days  been  ready  boune,^ 

At  prompt  command  to  march  from  Doune  ; 

King  James  the  while,  with  princely  powers. 

Holds  revelry  in  Stirling  towers. 

^  quaint,  fanciful  idea.  '^  prepared  to  go  forth  ("  ready  boune  "  is 

2  hill  slopes  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Teith-     a  pleonasm). 


IV.]  THE   PROPHECY.    '  99 

Soon  will  this  dark  and  gathering  cloud 

Speak  on  our  glens  in  thunder  loud. 

Inured  '  to  bide  ^  such  bitter  bout/ 

The  warrior^s  plaid  may  bear  it  out ; 

But,  Norman,  how  wilt  thou  provide 

A  shelter  for  the  bonny"  bride  ?" — 

^^What  !  know  ye  not  that  Koderick^s  care 

To  the  lone  isle  hath  caused  repair  ^ 

Each  maid  and  matron  of  the  clan. 

And  every  child  and  aged  man 

Unfit  for  arms  ;  and  givea  his  charge, 

Nor  skiff,  nor  shallop,  boat  nor  barge. 

Upon  these  lakes  shall  float  at  large, 

But  all  beside  the  islet  moor. 

That  such  dear  pledge  may  rest  secure  ?  " — 

IV. 

'^^Tis  well  advised, — the  Chieftain^s  plan 

Bespeaks  the  father  of  his  clan. 

But  wherefore  sleeps  Sir  Roderick  Dhu 

Apart  from  all  his  followers  true  ?" 

^•'It  is  because  last  evening-tide 

Brian  an  augury  ^  hath  tried, 

Of  that  dread  kind  which  must  not  be 

Unless  in  dread  extremity. 

The  Taghairm^  called  ;  by  which,  afar. 

Our  sires  foresaw  the  events  of  war. 

^  used  to  ;  hardened.  2  endure.  waterfall,  or  at  the  bottom  of  a  precipice, 

3  contest.  *  lovely.  or  in  some  other  strange,  wild,  and  unusual 

^  i.  e.,  hath  caused  each  maid,  etc.,  to  re-  situation,  where  the  scenery  around  him 

pair  to  the  lone  isle.      ^  foretelling  of  events,  suggested  nothing  but  objects  of  horror. 

■^  "  The  Highlanders,  like  all  rude  people,  In  this  situation  he  revolved  in  his  mind 

had  various  superstitious  modes  of  inquiring  the  question  proposed,  and  whatever  was 

into  futurity.     One  of  the  most  noted  was  impressed  upon  him  by  his  exalted  imagin- 

the  Taghairm  mentioned  in  the  text.    A  ation  passed  for  the  inspiration  of  the  dis- 

person  was  wrapped  up  in  the  skin  of  a  embodied  spirits  who  haunt  the  desolate 

newly-slain  bullock,  and  deposited  beside  a  recesses.'"— Scott. 


100  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [cANTO 

Duncraggan^s  milk-white  bull  they  slew/^ — 

MALISE. 

'^  Ah  !  well  the  gallant  brute  I  knew  ! 
The  choicest  of  the  prey  we  had 
When  swept  our  merry  men  Gallangad. 
His  hide  was  snow,  his  horns  were  dark. 
His  red  eye  glowed  like  fiery  spark  ; 
So  fierce,  so  tameless,  and  so  fleet. 
Sore  did  he  cumber  ^  our  retreat, 
And  kept  our  stoutest  kerns  ^  in  awe. 
Even  at  the  pass  of  Beal  ^maha/ 
But  steep  and  flinty  was  the  road. 
And  sharp  the  hurrying  pikeman's  goad, 
And  when  we  came  to  Dennan^'s  Row " 
A  child  might  scathless  ^  stroke  his  brow/^ 

V. 

NORMAN. 

''That  bull  was  slain;  his  reeking  hide 
They  stretched  the  cataract  beside," 
Whose  waters  their  wild  tumult  toss 
Adown  the  black  and  craggy  boss  ^ 
Of  that  huge  cliff  whose  ample  verge 
Tradition  calls  the  Hero's  Targe.  ^ 
Couched  on  a  shelf  beneath  its  brink, 
Close  where  the  thundering  torrents  sink. 
Rocking  beneath  their  headlong  sway. 
And  drizzled  by  the  ceaseless  spray, 
'Midst  groan  of  rock  and  roar  of  stream. 
The  wizard  waits  prophetic  dream. 

1  encumber;  hinder.  ^  without  harm, 

3  armed   retainers;    really,  robbers    and  «  note  the  poetic  arrangement,  the  prepo- 

marauders.  sition  following  the  noun  it  governs. 

3  "the  pass  of  the  plain,"  east  of  Loch  ">  protuberance. 

Lomond.  ^  rock  in   the   forest  of    Glenfinlas,  by 

*  starting-place  for  the  ascent  of  Ben  Lo-  which  a  cataract  flows, 
mond. 


IV.]  THE   PEOPHECY.  101 

Nor  distant  rests  the  Chief  ; — but  hush  ! 
See,  gliding  slow  through  mist  and  bush, 
The  hermit  gains  yon  rock,  and  stands 
To  gaze  upon  our  slumbering  bands. 
Seems  he  not,  Malise,  like  a  ghost. 
That  hovers  o'er  a  slaughtered  host  ? 
Or  raven  on  the  blasted  oak. 
That,  watching  while  the  deer  is  broke, ^ 
His  morsel  claims  with  sullen  croak  ?  " 

MALISE. 

^*  Peace  !  peace  !  to  other  than  to  me 

Thy  words  were  evil  augury  ; 

But  still  I  hold  Sir  Roderick's  blade, 

Clan-Alpine's  omen  and  her  aid, 

Not  aught  that,  gleaned  from  heaven  or  hell. 

Yon  fiend-begotten  Monk  can  tell. 

The  Chieftain  joins  him,  see — and  now 

Together  they  descend  the  brow.^^ 

VI. 

And,  as  they  came,  with  Alpine's  Lord 
The  Hermit  Monk  held  solemn  word  : — 
^'  Roderick  !  it  is  a  fearful  strife. 
For  man  endowed  with  mortal  life, 
Whose  shroud  of  sentient  ^  clay  can  still 
Feel  feverish  pang  and  fainting  chill,  ' 
Whose  eye  can  stare  in  stony  trance. 
Whose  hair  can  rouse  like  warrior's  lance, — 
'Tis  hard  for  such  to  view,  unfurled, 
The  curtain  of  the  future  world. 

*  quartered  ;  cut  up.      "Everything  be-  allotted  portion;   the  hounds  had  a  certain 

longing  to  the  chase  was  matter  of  solem-  allowance ;  and,  to  make  the  division  as 

nity  among  our  ancestors  ;  but  nothing  was  general  as  possible,  the  very  birds  had  their 

more  so  than  the  mode  of  cutting  up,  or,  share  also."— Scott. 

as  it  was  technically  called,  breaking^  the  2  that  perceives  or  feels, 
slaughtered  stag.     The   forester   had  his 


102  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [cANTO 

Yet,  witness  every  quaking  limb. 

My  sunken  pulse,  mine  eyeballs  dim. 

My  soul  with  harrowing  anguish  torn. 

This  for  my  Chieftain  have  I  borne  ! — 

The  shapes  that  sought  my  fearful  couch 

A  human  tongue  may  ne^er  avouch ;  ^ 

JSTo  mortal  man — save  he,^  who,  bred 

Between  the  living  and  the  dead. 

Is  gifted  beyond  nature^s  law — 

Had  e^er  survived  to  say  he  saw. 

At  length  the  fateful  answer  came 

In  characters  of  living  flame  ! 

Not  spoke  in  word,  nor  blazed  in  scroll. 

But  borne  and  branded  on  my  soul  : — 

Which  ^  spills  the  foremost  eoemai^'s  life. 

That  party  conquers  in  the  strife.^'* 


VII. 

^^  Thanks,  Brian,  for  thy  zeal  and  care  ! 
Grood  is  thine  augury,  and  fair. 
Clan-Alpine  ne^'er  in  battle  stood 
But  first  our  broadswords  tasted  blood. 
A  surer  victim  still  I  know. 
Self-offered  to  the  auspicious  ^  blow  : 
A  spy  has  sought  my  land  this  morn, — 
'No  eye  shall  witness  his  return ! 
My  followers  guard  each  passes  mouth. 
To  east,  to  westward,  and  to  south  ; 
Eed  Murdoch,  bribed  to  be  his  guide. 
Has  charge  to  lead  his  steps  aside, 

1  affirm;  declare.  Oracle  of  the  Hide.     The  fate  of  a  battle 

2  modern  usage  would  require  "  him  "  for  was  often  anticipated  in  the  imagination  of 
he."  the  combatants  by  noticing  which  party 

3  which  party,  or  whichever.  drew  the  first  blood. 

4  this  is  in  response  to  the  Taghairm,  or  ^  of  good  omen. 


IV.]  THE    PROPHECY.  108 

Till  in  deep  path  or  dingle  brown 
He  light  ^  on  those  shall  bring  him  down. — 
But  see,  who  comes  his  news  to  show  ! 
Malise  !  what  tidings  of  the  foe  ?''' 

VIII. 

'^  At  Doune/  o^er  many  a  spear  and  glaive ' 

Two  Barons  prond  their  banners  wave. 

I  saw  the  Moray^s"  silver  star/ 

And  marked  the  sable  pale  ^  of  Mar."" 

'^  By  Alpine^s  soul,  high  tidings  those  ! 

I  love  to  hear  of  worthy  foes. 

When  move  thev  on  ?^^  '^  To-morrow's  noon 

Will  see  them  here  for  battle  boune.'' 

"  Then  shall  it  see  a  meeting  stern  ! 

But,  for  the  place,  say, — couldst  thou  learn 

Naught  of  the  friendly  clans  of  Earn  ?  ^ 

Strengthened  by  them,  we  well  might  bide 

The  battle  on  Benledi's  side. 

Thou  couldst  not  ? — well  !  Clan-Alpine's  men 

Shall  man  the  Trosachs'  shaggy  glen  ; 

Within  Loch  Katrine's  gorge  we'll  fight, 

All  in  our  maids'  and  matrons'  sight, 

Each  for  his  hearth  and  household  fire. 

Father  for  child,  and  son  for  sire. 

Lover  for  maid  beloved  ! — But  why — 

Is  it  the  breeze  affects  mine  eye  ? 

Or  dost  thou  come,  ill-omened  tear  ! 

A  messenger  of  doubt  or  fear  ? 

ISTo  !  sooner  may  the  Saxon  lance 

Unfix  Benledi  from  his  stance,'^ 

1  (alight) ;  "  light "  is  in  the  subjunctive,  ^  The  coat  of  arms  of  the  Morays  bore  in 
to  denote  uncertainty.  its  upper  part  three  silver  stars  ;  that  of  the 

2  castle  of  the  Earls  of  Menteith,  between  Earls  of  Mar  contained  a  sable  pale^  i.e.,  a 
Sterling  and  Callander.  black  band,  or  broad  perpendicular  stripe. 

3  svs^ord;  claymore.  ^  district  about  Loch-Earn. 
••  both  supporters  of  the  king.  ''  station  (situation). 


104  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Than  doubt  or  terror  can  pierce  through 
The  unyielding  heart  of  Roderick  Dhu  ! 
^Tis  stubborn  as  his  trusty  targe. 
Each  to  his  post  ! — all  know  their  charge.^' 
The  pibroch  sounds,  the  bands  advance, 
The  broadswords  gleam,  the  banners  dance. 
Obedient  to  the  Ohieftain^s  glance. — 
I  turn  me  from  the  martial  roar. 
And  seek  Coir-Uriskin  once  more. 

IX. 

Where  is  the  Douglas  ? — he  is  gone  ; 
And  Ellen  sits  on  the  gray  stone 
East  by  ^  the  cave,  and  makes  her  moan, 
While  vainly  Allan^'s  words  of  cheer 
Are  poured  on  her  unheeding  ear. 
"  He  will  return — dear  lady,  trust  ! — 
With  joy  return  ; — he  will — he  must. 
Well  was  it  time  to  seek  afar 
Some  refuge  from  impending'^  war. 
When  e^en  Clan- Alpine's  rugged  swarm 
Are  cowed  by  the  approaching  storm. 
I  saw  their  boats  with  many  a  light, 
Eloating  the  livelong  yesternight. 
Shifting  like  flashes  darted  forth 
By  the  red  streamers  of  the  north  ;  ^ 
I  marked  at  morn  how  close  they  ride. 
Thick  moored  by  the  lone  islet's  side. 
Like  wild  ducks  couching  in  the  fen  ^ 
When  stoops  the  hawk  upon  the  glen. 
Since  this  rude  race  dare  not  abide 
The  peril  on  the  mainland  side. 
Shall  not  thy  noble  father's  care 
Some  safe  retreat  for  thee  prepare  '■  " 

1  close  to.         s  threatening.        3  "  the  Northern  Lights,"  or  Aurora  Borealis.        *  marsh. 


IV.]  THE   PEOPHECY.  '105 

X. 

ELLEN. 

'^  No,  Allan,  no  !     Pretext  so  kind 

My  wakeful  terrors  could  not  blind. 

When  in  such  tender  tone,  yet  grave, 

Douglas  a  parting  blessing  gave. 

The  tear  that  glistened  in  his  eye 

Drowned  not  his  purpose  fixed  and  high. 

My  soul,  though  feminine  and  weak. 

Can  image  his  ;  e'en  as  the  lake. 

Itself  disturbed  by  slightest  stroke, 

Eeflects  the  invulnerable  rock. 

He  hears  report  of  battle  rife,^ 

He  deems  himself  the  cause  of  strife. 

I  saw  him  redden  when  the  theme 

Turned,  Allan,  on  thine  idle  dream 

Of  Malcolm  Graeme  in  fetters  bound, 

Which  I,  thou  saidst,  about  him  wound. 

Think^'st  thou  he  trowed  ^  thine  omen  aught  ? 

0  no  !  "'twas  apprehensive  ^  thought 

For  the  kind  youth, — for  Roderick  too — 

Let  me  be  just — that  friend  so  true  ; 

In  danger  both,  and  in  our  cause  ! 

Minstrel,  the  Douglas  dare  not  pause. 

Why.  else  that  solemn  warning  given, 

'  If  not  *  on  earth,  we  meet  in  heaven  ! ' 

Why  else,  to  Cambus-kenneth^s "  fane, 

If  eve  return  him  not  again. 

Am  I  to  hie  and  make  me  known  ? 

Alas  !  he  goes  to  Scotland^'s  throne. 

Buys  his  friends^  safety  with  his  own ; 

He  goes  to  do — what  I  had  done. 

Had  Douglas^  daughter  been  his  son  ! '' 

1  extended;  wide-spread.    2  trusted  ;  believed.    <  if  we  meet  not,  etc. 

3  fearful  of  danger.  6  an  abbey  on  the  Forth,  near  Stirling. 


106*  THE   LADY   OF   THE    LAKE.  [canto 

XI. 

'^  ^ay,  lovely  Ellen  ! — dearest,  nay  ! 
If  aught  should  his  return  delay. 
He  only  named  yon  holy  fane 
As  fitting  place  to  meet  again. 
Be  sure  he's  safe  ;  and  for  the  Graeme, — 
Heaven's  blessing  on  his  gallant  name  ! — 
My  visioned  sight  may  yet  prove  true. 
Nor  bode  of  ill  to  him  or  you. 
When  did  my  gifted  dream  beguile  ?  ^ 
Think  of  the  stranger  at  the  isle, 
And  think  upon  the  harpings  slow 
That  presaged  ^  this  approaching  woe  ! 
Sooth  was  my  prophecy  of  fear ; 
Believe  it  when  it  augurs  cheer. 
"Would  he  had  left  this  dismal  spot  ! 
Ill  luck  still  haunts  a  fairy  grot. 
Of  such  a  wondrous  tale  I  know — 
Dear  lady,  change  that  look  of  woe. 
My  harp  was  wont  thy  grief  to  cheer." 

ELLEN. 

''  Well,  be  it  as  thou  wilt ;  I  hear. 
But  cannot  stop  the  bursting  tear."" 
The  Minstrel  tried  his  simple  art. 
But  distant  far  was  Ellen's  heart. 

XII. 
BALLAD. 

ALICE    BRAND. 

Merry  it  is  in  the  good  greenwood. 

When  the  mavis  ^  and  merle  "  are  singing. 

When  the  deer  sweeps  by,  and  the  hounds  are  in  cry. 
And  the  hunter's  horn  is  ringing. 

1  deceive,  or  lead  astray.  ^  foreshadowed.  ^  thrush.  *  blackbird. 


TV.] 


THE   PROPHECY. 


107 


^'  0  Alice  Brand,  my  native  land 

Is  lost  for  love  of  yon  ; 
And  we  must  hold  by  wood  and  wold,* 

As  outlaws  wont  ^  to  do. 

"  0  Alice,  ^twas  all  for  thy  locks  so  bright. 
And  ^twas  all  for  thine  eyes  so  blue, 

That  on  the  night  of  our  luckless  flight 
Thy  brother  bold  I  slew. 

*^  Now  must  I  teach  to  hew  the  beech 

The  hand  that  held  the  glaive, 
For  leaves  to  spread  our  lowly  bed. 

And  stakes  to  fence  our  cave. 

'''And  for  vest  of  pall,^  thy  fingers  small. 

That  wont  on  harp  to  stray, 
A  cloak  must  shear  from  the  slaughtered  deer. 

To  keep  the  cold  away." 

*'  0  Eichard  !  if  my  brother  died, 

"Twas  but  a  fatal  chance  ; 
For  darkling "  was  the  battle  tried. 

And  fortune  sped  the  lance. 

''If  pall  and  vair  ^  no  more  I  wear, 

Nor  thou  the  crimson  sheen. 
As  warm,  we^ll  say,  is  the  russet  ^  gray. 

As  gay  the  forest-green. 

"And,  Eichard,  if  our  lot  be  hard. 

And  lost  thy  native  land. 
Still  Alice  has  her  own  Eichard, 

And  he  his  Alice  Brand. ^^ 


1  open  grassy  country. 

"^  are  accustomed. 

^  outer  garment  of  purple  cloth. 

*  in  the  dark. 


6  fur  of  variegated  color,  a  mixture  of 
ermine  and  weasel,  worn  by  ladies  of  rank. 

^"russet"  is  here  used  in  the  sense  of 
homely,  or  rustic. 


108  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

XIII. 

BALLAD   CONTINUED. 

^Tis  merry,  ^tis  merry,  in  good  greenwood ; 

So  blithe  Lady  Alice  is  singing  ; 
On  the  beeches  pride,  and  oak's  brown  side, 

Lord  Eichard's  axe  is  ringing. 

Up  spoke  the  moody  Elfin  King, 

Who  woned  ^  within  the  hill, — 
Like  wind  in  the  porch  of  a  ruined  church. 

His  voice  was  ghostly  shrill. 

^<  Why  sounds  yon  stroke  on  beech  and  oak, 

Our  moonlight  circlets  screen  ? 
Or  who  comes  here  to  chase  the  deer,^ 

Beloved  of  our  Elfin  Queen  ? 
Or  who  may  dare  on  wold  to  wear 

The  fairies^  fatal  green  ?  ^ 

'^Up,  Urgan,*  up  !  to  yon  mortal  hie. 

For  thou  wert  christened  man  ; 
For  cross  or  sign  thou  wilt  not  fly. 

For  muttered  word  or  ban. 

'^  Lay  on  him  the  curse  of  the  withered  heart. 

The  curse  of  the  sleepless  eye  ; 
Till  he  wish  and  pray  that  his  life  would  part, 

Nor  yet  find  leave  to  die." 

1  lived;  dwelt.  take  offence  when  any  mortals  ventured  to 

'  2  Fairies,  if  not  positively  malevolent,  are  assume  their  favorite  color.    Indeed,  from 

capricious  and  easily  offended.    They  are,  some   reason,   which   has    been,    perhaps, 

lilie  other  proprietors  of  forests,  peculiarly  originally  a  general  superstition,  green  is 

jealous  of  their  rights  of  vert  and  veniso?i  held  in  Scotland  to  be  unlucky  to  particular 

(or,  right  to  wood  and  game).  tribes  and  counties."— Scott. 

3  "As  the  Daoine  Shi\  or  Men  of  Peace,  ^  herculean  knight,  slain  by  Sir  Tristram, 

wore  green  habits,  they  were  supposed  to  in  an  old  romance. 


IV.]  THE   PKOPHECY.  109 

XIV. 

BALLAD   CONTINUED. 

^Tis  merry,  ^tis  merry,  in  good  greenwood. 
Though  the  birds  have  stilled  their  singing ; 

The  evening  blaze  doth  Alice  raise. 
And  Richard  is  fagots  bringing. 

Up  Urgan  starts,  that  hideous  dwarf. 

Before  Lord  Richard  stands, 
And,  as  he  crossed  and  blessed  himself, 
^^I  fear  not  sign,^^  quoth  the  grizzly  elf, 

''  That  is  made  with  bloody  hands.''^ 

But  out  then  spoke  she,  Alice  Brand, 

That  woman  void  of  fear, — 
^'  And  if  there^s  blood  upon  his  hand, 
^Tis  but  the  blood  of  deer.^' 

''^"ow  loud  thou  liest,  thou  bold  of  mood  ! 

It  cleaves  unto  his  hand. 
The  stain  of  thine  own  kindly  ^  blood. 

The  blood  of  Ethert  Brand. "^ 

Then  forward  stepped  she,  Alice  Brand, 

And  made  the  holy  sign, — ■ 
'^'^And  if  there^s  blood  on  Richard^s  hand, 

A  spotless  hand  is  mine. 

*^  And  I  conjure  thee,  demon  elf. 

By  Him  whom  demons  fear. 
To  show  us  whence  thou  art  thyself. 

And  what  thine  errand  here  ?  " 

1  kindred  (blood  of  kinsman). 


110  THE    LADY    OF   THE    LAKE.  [canto 


XV. 

BALLAD    CONTINUED. 


(e  > 


Tis  merry,  ^tis  merry,  in  Fairy-land, 
When  fairy  birds  are  singing, 
When  the  court  doth  ride  by  their  monarches  side. 
With  bit  and  bridle  ringing  : 

'^  And  gayly  shines  the  Fairy-land — 

But  all  is  glistening  show. 
Like  the  idle  gleam  that  December's  beam 

Can  dart  on  ice  and  snow. 

'^And  fading,  like  that  varied  gleam. 

Is  our  inconstant  ^  shape. 
Who  now  like  knight  and  lady  seem, 

And  now  like  dwarf  and  ape. 

"  It  was  between  the  night  and  day. 

When  the  Fairy  King  has  power. 
That  I  sunk  down  in  a  sinful  fray, 
And  'twixt  life  and  death  was  snatched  away 

To  the  joyless  Elfin  bower. 

'^'  But  wist  ^  I  of  a  woman  bold, 

Who  thrice  m}^  brow  durst  sign, 
I  might  regain  my  mortal  mould. 

As  fair  a  form  as  thine."  .'I 

She  crossed  him  once — she  crossed  him  twice — 

That  lady  was  so  brave  ; 
The  fouler  grew  his  goblin  hue. 

The  darker  grew  the  cave. 

She  crossed  him  thrice,  that  lady  bold  ; 
He  rose  beneath  her  hand 

»  changeable.  ^  if  I  knew. 


IV.]  THE   PROPHECY.  ill 

The  fairest  kniglit  on  Scottish  mould/ 
Her  brother.  Ether t  Brand  ! 

Merry  it  is  in  good  greenwood, 

When  the  mavis  and  merle  are  singing, 

But  merrier  were  they  in  Dunfermline^  gray. 
When  all  the  bells  were  ringing. 

XVI. 

Just  as  the  minstrel  sounds  were  stayed, 

A  stranger  climbed  the  steepy  glade  ; 

His  martial  step,  his  stately  mien. 

His  hunting-suit  of  Lincoln  green. 

His  eagle  glance,  remembrance  claims — 

'Tis  Snowdoun^s  Knight,  "'tis  James  Fitz-James. 

Ellen  beheld  as  in  a  dream, 

Then,  starting,  scarce  suppressed  a  scream  : 

'^  0  stranger  !  in  such  hour  of  fear 

What  evil  hap  ^  has  brought  thee  here  ?  " 

"  An  evil  hap  how  can  it  be 

That  bids  me  look  again  on  thee  ? 

By  promise  bound,  my  former  guide 

Met  me  betimes  *  this  morning-tide. 

And  marshalled  over  bank  and  bourne  ^ 

The  happy  path  of  my  return. ^^ 

^'  The  happy  path  ! — what  !  said  he  naught 

Of  war,  of  battle  to  be  fought. 

Of  guarded  pass  "i  "  ''  No,  by  my  faith  ! 

Nor  saw  I  aught  could  augur  scathe.^"  ® 

*^  0  haste  thee,  Allan,  to  the  kern  : 

Yonder  his  tartans  I  discern  ; 

Learn  thou  his  purpose,  and  conjure 

That  he  will  guide  the  stranger  sure  ! — 

1  form ;  shape.  3  chance.  ■*  early. 

2  town  and  royal  burgh  in  Pifeshire,  once        ^  (Scottish  pj^on.  burn)  stream, 
the  residence  of  the  kings  of  Scotland.  ^  predict  injury. 


112  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

What  prompted  thee,  unhappy  man  ? 
The  meanest  serf  ^  in  Roderick's  clan 
Had  not  been  bribed,  by  love  or  fear. 
Unknown  to  him  to  guide  thee  here/' 

XYII. 

'^  Sweet  Ellen,  dear  my  life  must  be. 
Since  it  is  worthy  care  from  thee ; 
Yet  life  I  hold  but  idle  breath 
When  love  or  honor's  weighed  with  death. 
Then  let  me  profit  by  my  chance. 
And  speak  my  purpose  bold  at  once. 
I  come  to  bear  thee  from  a  wild 
Where  ne'er  before  such  blossom  smiled. 
By  this  soft  hand  to  lead  thee  far 
From  frantic  scenes  of  feud  ^  and  war. 
Near  Bochastle  my  horses  wait ; 
They  bear  us  soon  to  Stirling  gate. 
I'll  place  thee  in  a  lovely  bower, 
I'll  guard  thee  like  a  tender  flower — " 
"  0  hush.  Sir  Knight  !  'twere  female  art. 
To  say  I  do  not  read  thy  heart ; 
Too  much,  before,  my  selfish  ear 
Was  idly  soothed  my  praise  to  hear. 
That  fatal  bait  hath  lured  thee  back. 
In  deathful  hour  o'er  dangerous  track; 
And  how,  0  how,  can  I  atone 
The  wreck  my  vanity  brought  on  ! — 
One  way  remains — I'll  tell  him  all — 
Yes  !  struggling  bosom,  forth  it  shall  ! 
Thou,  whose  light  folly  bears  the  blame. 
Buy  thine  own  pardon  with  thy  shame  ! 
But  first — my  father  is  a  man 
Outlawed  and  exiled,  under  ban  ; 

1  slave.  ^  deadly  strife. 


THE   PROPHECY.  113 

The  price  of  blood  is  on  his  head^ 

With  me  ^twere  infamy  to  wed. 

Still  wouldst  thou  speak  ? — then  hear  the  truth  ! 

Fitz-James^  there  is  a  noble  youth — 

If  yet  he  is  !  ^ — exposed  for  me 

And  mine  to  dread  extremity — 

Thou  hast  the  secret  of  my  heart ; 

Forgive,  be  generous,  and  depart ! " 

XYIII. 

Fitz-James  knew  every  wily  train  ^ 

A  lady^s  fickle  heart  to  gain, 

But  here  he  knew  and  felt  them  vain. 

There  shot  no  glance  from  Ellen^s  eye. 

To  give  her  steadfast  speech  the  lie  ; 

In  maiden  confidence  she  stood. 

Though  mantled  in  her  cheek  the  blood. 

And  told  her  love  with  such  a  sigh 

Of  deep  and  hopeless  agony. 

As  ^  death  had  sealed  her  Malcolm's  doom 

And  she  sat  sorrowing  on  his  tomb. 

Hope  vanished  from  Fitz-James's  eye, 

But  not  with  hope  fled  sympathy. 

He  proffered  to  attend  her  side. 

As  brother  would  a  sister  guide. 

"  0  little  know'st  thou  Roderick's  heart ! 

Safer  for  both  we  go  apart. 

0  haste  thee,  and  from  Allan  learn 

If  thou  mayst  trust  yon  wily  kern." 

With  hand  upon  his  forehead  laid. 

The  conflict  of  his  mind  to  shade, 

A  parting  step  or  two  he  made  ; 

Then,  as  some  thought  had  crossed  his  brain, 

He  paused,  and  turned,  and  came  again. 

*  if  he  still  lives.  ^  artful  device.  ^  as  if. 


114  THE    LADY    OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

XIX. 

'/  Hear^  lady,  yet  a  parting  word  ! — 

It  chanced  in  fight  that  my  poor  sword 

Preserved  the  life  of  Scotland's  lord. 

This  ring  the  grateful  Monarch  gave. 

And  bade,  when  I  had  boon  to  crave/ 

To  bring  it  back,  and  boldly  claim 

The  recompense  that  I  would  name. 

Ellen,  I  am  no  courtly  lord. 

But  one  who  lives  by  lance  and  sword, 

Whose  castle  is  his  helm  ^  and  shield. 

His  lordship^  the  embattled  field. 

What  from  a  prince  can  I  demand, 

Who  neither  reck  of  ^  state  nor  land  ? 

Ellen,  thy  hand — the  ring  is  thine  ; 

Each  guard  and  usher  knows  the  sign. 

Seek  thou  the  King  without  delay  ; 

This  signet  ^  shall  secure  thy  way  : 

And  claim  thy  suit,  whatever  it  be. 

As  ransom  of  his  pledge  to  me.'' 

He  placed  the  golden  circlet  on, 

Paused — kissed  her  hand — and  then  was  gone. 

The  aged  Minstrel  stood  aghast. 

So  hastily  Fitz-James  shot  past. 

He  joined  his  guide,  and  wending  down 

The  ridges  of  the  mountain  brown. 

Across  the  stream  they  took  their  way 

That  joins  Loch  Katrine  to  Achray. 

XX. 

All  in  the  Trosachs'  glen  was  still, 
Noontide  was  sleeping  on  the  hill  : 
Sudden  his  guide  whooped  loud  and  high. — 
''  Murdoch  !  was  that  a  signal  cry  ?" — 

1  favor  to  beg.  ^  helmet.  ^  heed,  or  care  for. 

3  domain  (the  battle-field).  *  seal  in  the  ring. 


IV.]  THE    PROPHECY.  115 

He  stammered  forth^  ''  I  shout  to  scare 
Yon  raven  from  his  dainty  fare/' 
He  looked — he  knew  the  raven's  prey, 
His  own  brave  steed  :   "  Ah  !  gallant  gray  ! 
For  thee — for  me,  perchance — 'twere  well 
"We  ne'er  had  seen  the  Trosachs'  dell. — 
Murdoch,  move  first — but  silently  ; 
Whistle  or  whoop,  and  thou  shalt  die  ! " 
Jealous  and  sullen  on  they  fared,' 
Each  silent,  each  upon  his  guard. 

XXI. 

Now  wound  the  path  its  dizzy  ledge 

Around  a  precipice's  edge, 

When  lo  !  a  wasted  female  form. 

Blighted  by  wrath  of  sun  and  storm. 

In  tattered  weeds  "^  and  wild  array. 

Stood  on  a  cliff  beside  the  way. 

And  glancing  round  her  restless  eye. 

Upon  the  wood,  the  rock,  the  sky. 

Seemed  naught  to  mark,  yet  all  to  spy. 

Her  brow  was  wreathed  with  gaudy  broom  ;  ^ 

With  gesture  wild  she  waved  a  plume 

Of  feathers",  which  the  eagles  fling 

To  crag  and  cliff  from  dusky  wing. 

Such  spoils  her  desperate  step  had  sought. 

Where  scarce  was  footing  for  the  goat. 

The  tartan  plaid  she  first  descried. 

And  shrieked  till  all  the  rocks  replied  ; 

As  loud  she  laughed  when  near  they  drew, 

For  then  the  Lowland  garb  she  knew  ; 

And  then  her  hands  she  wildly  wrung. 

And  then  she  wept,  and  then  she  sung — 

1  journeyed.     ^  mourning  garments.       ^  broom  plant,  having  flowers  of  a  bright  yellow. 


116  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

She  sung  ! — the  voice,  in  better  time. 
Perchance  to  harp  or  lute  might  chime  ; 
And  now,  though  strained  and  roughened,  still 
Eung  wildly  sweet  to  dale  and  hill. 

XXII. 

SONG. 

They  bid  me  sleep,  they  bid  me  pray. 

They  say  my  brain  is  warped  and  wrung, — 

I  cannot  sleep  on  Highland  brae, 
I  cannot  pra}''  in  Highland  tongue. 

But  were  I  now  where  Allan  ^  glides. 

Or  heard  my  native  Devan's  ^  tides. 

So  sweetly  would  I  rest,  and  pray 

That  heaven  would  close  my  wintry  day  ! 

^Twas  thus  my  hair  they  bade  me  braid. 
They  made  me  to  the  church  repair ; 

It  was  my  bridal  morn,  they  said. 

And  my  true  love  would  meet  me  there. 

But  woe  betide  the  cruel  guile  '^ 

That  drowned  in  blood  the  morning  smile  ! 

And  woe  betide  the  fairy  dream  ! 

I  only  waked  to  sob  and  scream. 

XXIII. 

''  Who  is  this  maid  ?  what  means  her  lay  ? 
She  hovers  o^er  the  hollow  way. 
And  flutters  wide  her  mantle  gray. 
As  the  lone  heron  spreads  his  wing. 
By  twilight,  o^'er  a  haunted  spring." 
^^'Tis  Blanche  of  I)evan,"  Murdoch  said, 
^' K  crazed  and  captive  Lowland  maid, 
Ta^en  on  the  morn  she  was  a  bride, 

1  small  tributaries  of  the  Forth.  2  deceit. 


IV.]  THE   PROPHECY.  117 

"When  Eoderick  forayed  Devan-side. 

The  gay  bridegroom  resistance  made, 

And  felt  our  Chiefs  unconquered  blade. 

I  marvel  she  is  now  at  large, 

But  oft  she  ^scapes  from  Handlings  ^  charge. — 

Hence,  brain-sick  fool  I" — He  raised  his  bow:  — 

"  Now,  if  thou  strik^st  her  but  one  blow, 

I'll  pitch  thee  from  the  cliff  as  far 

As  ever  peasant  pitched  a  bar  \''^ 

*' Thanks,  champion,  thanks  \"  the  Maniac  cried, 

And  pressed  her  to  Fitz-James's  side. 

"  See  the  gray  pennons  ^  I  prepare. 

To  seek  my  true  love  through  the  air  ! 

I  will  not  lend  that  savage  groom. 

To  break  his  fall,  one  downy  plume  ! 

No  ! — deep  amid  disjointed  stones. 

The  wolves  shall  batten "  on  his  bones. 

And  then  shall  his  detested  plaid. 

By  bush  and  brier  in  mid-air  stayed. 

Wave  forth  a  banner  fair  and  free. 

Meet  signal  for  their  revelry.  ^^ 

XXIY. 

^^Hush  thee,  poor  maiden,  and  be  still  !^' 
*^  0  !  thou  look'st  kindly,  and  I  will. 
Mine  eye  has  dried  and  wasted  been. 
But  still  it  loves  the  Lincoln  green  ; 
And,  though  mine  ear  is  all  unstrung. 
Still,  still  it  loves  the  Lowland  tongue. 

^'  For  0  my  sweet  William  was  forester  true, 
He  stole  poor  Blanche's  heart  away  ! 

1  corruption  of  Magdalene.  ^  wings  or  feathers. 

"^  tossed  the  heavy  hammer.  *  grow  fat. 


118  THE   LADY    OP   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

His  coat  it  was  all  of  the  greenwood  hue/ 
And  so  blithely  he  trilled  the  Lowland  lay  ! 

'^It  w^as  not  that  I  meant  to  tell  .   .   . 
But  thou  art  wise  and  guessest  well."" 
Then,  in  a  low  and  broken  tone, 
And  hurried  note,  the  song  went  on. 
Still  on  the  Clansman  fearfully 
She  fixed  her  apprehensive  ^  eye. 
Then  turned  it  on  the  Knight,  and  then 
Her  look  glanced  wildly  o'er  the  glen. 

XXV. 

'^The  toils  are  pitched,  and  the  stakes  are  set, — 

Ever  sing  merrily,  merrily  ; 
The  bows  they  bend,  and  the  knives  they  whet. 

Hunters  ^  live  so  cheerily. 

*^It  was  a  stag,  a  stag  of  ten,* 

Bearing  its  branches  sturdily  ; 
He  came  stately  down  the  glen, — 

Ever  sing  hardily,  hardily. 

^^It  was  there  he  met  with  a  wounded  doe. 

She  was  bleeding  deathfully  ; 
She  warned  him  of  the  toils  below, 

0,  so  faithfully,  faithfully  ! 

''  He  had  an  eye,  and  he  could  heed, — 

Ever  sing  warily,^  warily  ; 
He  had  a  foot,  and  he  could  speed, — 

Hunters  watch  so  narrowly." 

1  the  Lincoln  green  that  the  Knight  of  "  hunters  "  are  Clan -Alpine's  men  ;  the 
Snowdounwore  reminded  Blanche  of  her  "  stag"  is  Fitz- James;  the  "  wounded  doe" 
husband ;  hence,   she  is  led  to  warn  the     being  Blanche. 

stranger  of  his  peril.  *  with  ten  branches  on  his  antlers,  and, 

2  anticipative  of  evil.  therefore,  full-grown,  strong,  and  swift 

3  figurative    expression,    in    which    the        ^  with  caution. 


iv.J  THE    PROPHECY.  119 

XXVI. 

Fitz-James^s  mind  was  passion-tossed. 

When  EUen^s  hints  and  fears  were  lost; 

But  Murdoch's  shout  suspicion  wrought. 

And  Blanche's  song  conviction  brought. 

Not  like  a  stag  that  spies  the  snare. 

But  lion  of  the  hunt  aware, 

He  waved  at  once  his  blade  on  high, 

^'  Disclose  thy  treachery,  or  die  ! '' 

Forth  at  full  speed  the  Clansman  flew. 

But  in  his  race  his  bow  he  drew. 

The  shaft  just  grazed  Fitz-James's  crest, 

And  thrilled  in  Blanche's  faded  breast. — 

Murdoch  of  Alpine  !  prove  thy  speed, 

For  ne'er  had  Alpine's  son  such  need  ; 

With  heart  of  fire,  and  foot  of  wind, 

The  fierce  avenger  is  behind  ! 

Fate  judges  of  the  rapid  strife — 

The  forfeit '  death — the  prize  is  life ; 

Thy  kindred  ambush  ^  lies  before. 

Close  couched  upon  the  heathery  moor  ; 

Them  couldst  thou  reach  ! — it  may  not  be — 

Thine  ambushed  kin  thou  ne'er  shalt  see. 

The  fiery  Saxon  gains  on  thee  ! — 

Resistless  speeds  the  deadly  thrust. 

As  lightning  strikes  the  pine  to  dust  ; 

With  foot  and  hand  Fitz-James  must  strain 

Ere  he  can  win  his  blade  again. 

Bent  o'er  the  fallen  with  falcon  eye. 

He  grimly  smiled  to  see  him  die. 

Then  slower  wended  back  his  way. 

Where  the  poor  maiden  bleeding  lay. 

*  fine.  2  (^_g,^  ambushed  kindred!  kinsmen  in  hiding. 


120  THE   LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.  [cANTO 

XXVII. 

She  sat  beneath  the  birchen  tree. 

Her  elbow  resting  on  her  knee ; 

She  had  withdrawn  the  fatal  shaft, 

And  gazed  on  it,  and  feebly  laughed  ; 

Her  wreath  of  broom  and  feathers  gray. 

Daggled  ^  with  blood,  beside  her  lay. 

The  Knight  to  stanch  the  life-stream  tried, — 

''  Stranger,  it  is  in  vain  ! "  she  cried. 

''  This  hour  of  death  has  given  me  more 

Of  reason^s  power  than  years  before  ; 

For,  as  these  ebbing  veins  decay. 

My  frenzied  visions  fade  away. 

A  helpless  injured  wretch  I  die. 

And  something  tells  me  in  thine  eye 

That  thou  wert  mine  avenger  born. 

Seest  thou  this  tress  ? — 0,  still  Tve  worn 

This  little  tress  of  yellow  hair. 

Through  danger,  frenzy,  and  despair  ! 

It  once  was  bright  and  clear  as  thine. 

But  blood  and  tears  have  dimmed  its  shine. 

I  will  not  tell  thee  when  'twas  shred, ^ 

ISTor  from  what  guiltless  victim's  head, — 

My  brain  would  turn  ! — but  it  shall  wave 

Like  plumage  on  thy  helmet  brave. 

Till  sun  and  wind  shall  bleach  the  stain. 

And  thou  wilt  bring  it  me  again. 

I  waver  still. — 0  God  !  more  bright 

Let  reason  beam  her  parting  light  ! — 

0,  by  thy  knighthood's  honored  sign. 

And  for  thy  life  preserved  by  mine. 

When  thou  shalt  see  a  darksome  man. 

Who  boasts  him  Chief  of  Alpine's  Clan, 

1  moistened.  2  torn. 


IV.]  THE   PROPHECY.  121 

Wifch  tartans  broad  and  shadowy  plume. 
And  hand  of  blood,  and  brow  of  gloom. 
Be  thy  heart  bold,  thy  weapon  strong. 
And  wreak  poor  Blanche  of  Devan^s  wrong  ! — 
They  watch  for  thee  by  pass  and  fell  .   .   . 
Avoid  the  path  ...   0  God  !  .  .   .  farewell. '' 

XXVIII. 

A  kindly  heart  had  brave  Fitz-James  ; 

Fast  poured  his  eyes  at  pity's  claims  ; 

And  now,  with  mingled  grief  and  ire. 

He  saw  the  murdered  maid  expire. 

^'  God,  in  my  need,  be  my  relief. 

As  I  wreak  ^  this  on  yonder  Chief  !  " 

A  lock  from  Blanche^s  tresses  fair 

He  blended  with  her  bridegroom's  hair  ; 

The  mingled  braid  in  blood  he  dyed. 

And  placed  it  on  his  bonnet-side  : 

*^By  Him  whose  word  is  truth,  I  swear, 

No  other  favor  ^  will  I  wear. 

Till  this  sad  token  I  imbrue  ^ 

In  the  best  blood  of  Eoderick  Dhu  ! — 

But  hark  !  what  means  yon  faint  halloo  ? 

The  chase  is  up, — but  they  shall  know. 

The  stag  at  bay's  a  dangerous  foe.'^ 

Barred  from  the  known  but  guarded  way. 

Through  copse  and  cliffs  Fitz-James  must  stray. 

And  oft  must  change  his  desperate  track, 

By  stream  and  precipice  turned  back. 

Heartless,  fatigued,  and  faint,  at  length. 

From  lack  of  food  and  loss  of  strength. 

He  couched  him  in  a  thicket  hoar. 

And  thought  his  toils  and  perils  o'er  : — 

'  avenge.  2  gift  or  token  of  a  lady  to  a  knight.  s  drench. 


122  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

''  Of  all  my  rash  adventures  past. 

This  frantic  feat  must  prove  the  last ! 

Who  e'er  so  mad  but  might  have  guessed 

That  all  this  Highland  hornet^s  nest 

Would  muster  up  in  swarms  so  soon 

As  e'er  they  heard  of  bands  at  Doune  ? — 

Like  bloodhounds  now  they  search  me  out, — 

Hark,  to  the  whistle  and  the  shout  ! — 

If  farther  through  the  wilds  I  go, 

I  only  fall  upon  the  foe  : 

I'll  couch  me  here  till  evening  gray. 

Then  darkling  ^  try  my  dangerous  way/' 

XXIX. 

The  shades  of  eve  come  slowly  down. 

The  woods  are  wrapt  in  deeper  brown. 

The  owl  awakens  from  her  dell, 

The  fox  is  heard  upon  the  fell ; 

Enough  remains  of  glimmering  light 

To  guide  the  wanderer's  steps  aright. 

Yet  not  enough  from  far  to  show 

His  figure  to  the  watchful  foe. 

With  cautious  step  and  ear  awake. 

He  climbs  the  crag  and  threads  the  brake  ; 

And  not  the  summer  solstice  ^  there 

Tempered  the  midnight  mountain  air, 

But  every  breeze  that  swept  the  wold 

Benumbed  his  drenched  limbs  with  cold. 

In  dread,  in  danger,  and  alone. 

Famished  and  chilled,  through  ways  unknown. 

Tangled  and  steep,  he  journeyed  on  ; 

Till,  as  a  rock's  huge  point  he  turned, 

A  watch-fire  close  before  him  burned. 

1  (adverb)  in  the  dark. 

2  (summer  solstice  =  time  of  longest  day)  the  heat  of  midsummer  did  not  temper,  or 
soften,  the  coldness  of  the  "  midnight  mountain  air." 


IV.]  THE  PROPHECr.  123 

XXX. 

Beside  its  embers  red  and  clear. 

Basked  ^  in  his  plaid  a  mountaineer  ; 

And  up  he  sprung  with  sword  in  hand, — 

"Thy  name  and  purpose  !     Saxon,''^  stand  \" 

"  A  stranger.^'     "  What  dost  thou  require  ?" 

"  Rest  and  a  guide,  and  food  and  fire. 

My  lifers  beset,  my  path  is  lost. 

The  gale  has  chilled  my  limbs  with  frost."' 

''  Art  thou  a  friend  to  Eoderick  ?"   "  No.'' 

"  Thou  dar'st  not  call  thyself  a  foe  ?  " 

^'  I  dare  !^  to  him  and  all  the  band 

He  brings  to  aid  his  murderous  hand." 

"  Bold  words  ! — but,  though  the  beast  of  game 

The  privilege  of  chase  may  claim, 

Though  space  and  law  the  stag  we  lend. 

Ere  hound  we  slip "  or  bow  we  bend, 

Who  ever  recked,  where,  how,  or  when. 

The  prowling  fox  was  trapped  or  slain  ? 

Thus  treacherous  scouts, — yet  sure  they  lie. 

Who  say  thou  cam'st  a  secret  spy  ! " — 

"  They  do,  by  heaven  ! — come  Roderick  Dhu, 

And  of  his  clan  the  boldest  two. 

And  let  me  but  till  morning  rest, 

I  write  the  falsehood  on  their  crest." 

"If  by  the  blaze  I  mark  aright, 

Tliou  bear'st  the  belt  and  spur  of  Knight." 

"  Then  by  these  tokens  mayst  thou  know 

Each  proud  oppressor's  mortal  foe." 

"  Enough,  enough  ;   sit  down  and  share 

A  soldier's  couch,  a  soldier's  fare." 

1  lay  exposed  to  the  heat.  •  ^  dare  to  call  myself  a  foe  to  him,  etc. 

2  the  Highlander's  name  for    the   Low-        ■*  let  loose, 
lander. 


124  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  [cANTO 

XXXI. 

He  gave  him  of  his  Highland  cheer. 

The  hardened  flesh  ^  of  mountain  deer  ; 

Dry  fuel  on  the  fire  he  laid. 

And  bade  the  Saxon  share  his  plaid. 

He  tended  him  like  welcome  guest. 

Then  thus  his  further  speech  addressed  : — 

"  Stranger,  I  am  to  Roderick  Dhu 

A  clansman  born,  a  kinsman  true  ; 

Each  word  against  his  honor  spoke 

Demands  of  me  avenging  stroke  ^ 

Yet  more, — upon  thy  fate,  "tis  said, 

A  mighty  augury  is  laid. 

It  rests  with  me  to  wind  my  horn, — 

Thou  art  with  numbers  overborne  ; 

It  rests  with  me,  here,  brand  to  brand, 

Worn  as  thou  art,  to  bid  thee  stand  : 

But,  not  for  clan,  nor  kindred^s  cause. 

Will  I  depart  from  honoris  laws  ; 

To  assail  a  wearied  man  were  shame. 

And  stranger  is  a  holy  name  ; 

Guidance  and  rest,  and  food  and  fire. 

In  vain  he  never  must  require. 

Then  rest  thee  here  till  dawn  of  day  ; 

Myself  will  guide  thee  on  the  way. 

O'er  stock  ^  and  stone,  through  watch  and  ward,^ 

Till  past  Clan- Alpine's  outmost  guard, 

As  far  as  Ooilantogle's  *  ford  ; 

From  thence  thy  warrant  ^  is  thy  sword."" 

"  I  take  thy  courtesy,  by  heaven. 

As  freely  as  'tis  nobly  given  !  " 

1  prepared  without  cooking,  by  pressing        ^through  those  who  keep  watch  by  night 
between  two  pieces  of  wood  to  force  out  the     and  guard  by  day. 

blood  (suggests  joemmcan).  •*  ford  where  the  Teith  issues  from  Loch 

2  stumps  of  trees.  Vennachar.  ^  security ;  safeguard. 


IV.]  THE   PROPHECY.  125 

''  Well,  rest  thee  ;  for  the  bittern^s  cry 
Sings  us  the  lake's  wild  lullaby."^ 
With  that  he  shook  the  gathered  heath, 
And  spread  his  plaid  npon  the  wreath  ;  ^ 
And  the  brave  foemen,  side  by  side. 
Lay  peaceful  down  like  brothers  tried. 
And  slept  until  the  dawning  beam 
Purpled  the  mountain  and  the  stream. 

*  heap  of  heather. 


CANTO  FIFTH. 

THE    COMBAT. 

SUMMARY. 

After  a  hasty  morning  meal,  the  two  set  out  on  their  journey,  the  Highlander,  bound 
by  his  promise  and  the  laws  of  hospitality,  leading  Fitz-James  on  his  way. 

As  they  converse,  Roderick  is  called  a  traitor  and  murderer  by  his  companion.  The 
blood  of  the  Highlander  is  aroused,  and  as  they  pass  Loch  Vennachar  he  blows  his 
whistle.  At  this  signal,  armed  men  appear  from  behind  every  bush  and  bracken,  and  the 
guide  reveals  himself  as  Roderick  Dhu.    At  another  signal,  the  armed  band  disappear. 

When  Coilantogle  Ford  (the  limit  of  Roderick's  domain  and  protection)  is  reached,  the 
two  engage  in  mortal  combat.  Fitz-James,  a  skilful  fencer,  wounds  Roderick  severely 
and  brings  him  to  his  knee,  but  \Yith  his  remaining  strength  the  Highlander  springs  at 
his  opponent's  throat.  They  wrestle  and  fall,  Roderick  being  uppermost.  He  draws  his 
dirk  to  stab  Fitz-James,  but  his  strength  leaves  him,  and  the  weapon  sinks  harmless  in 
the  heath.  Fitz-James  rises,  falters  thanks  to  heaven  for  his  preservation,  and  winds  his 
horn.  Horsemen  appear,  who  carry  the  wounded  Gael  to  Stirling  Castle.  On  the 
journey,  James  of  Douglas  is  observed,  in  the  guise  of  a  woodman,  approaching  the 
castle,  with  the  purpose  of  intercedingon  behalf  of  both  Roderick  and  Malcolm  Gragme. 
The  king  is  informed  of  this. 

Stirling  Castle  is  engaging  in  holiday  sports,  with  trials  of  strength  and  skill.  Douglas 
takes  part  in  these  contests  and  wins  the  prize.  For  his  prowess  he  receives  the  applause 
of  the  populace,  but  is  hated  by  the  nobles  and  frowned  upon  by  the  king,  even  while  the 
rewards  are  bestowed  upon  him.  A  servant  of  the  king  strikes  a  hound  belonging  to 
Douglas  (or  rather  to  his  daughter  Ellen).  Douglas  knocks  the  servant  down.  Immediately 
there  is  an  uproar.  The  king  breaks  ofE  the  sports  and  orders  the  imprisonment  of  the 
Earl. 

A  messenger  arrives  from  the  Earl  of  Mar  and  announces  the  muster  of  Clan-Alpine. 
The  king  sends  back  the  messenger  to  forbid  the  war,  since  both  Roderick  and  Douglas 
are  now  in  his  power.  It  was  too  late,  however,  to  stop  the  fray,  which  began  at  noon 
and  lasted  until  sunset. 

I. 

Fair  as  the  earliest  beam  of  eastern  light. 
When  first,  by  the  bewildered  pilgrim  spied. 

It  smiles  upon  the  dreary  brow  of  night. 
And  silvers  o'er  the  torrent's  foaming  tide, 
And  lights  the  fearful  path  on  mountain-side, — 

Fair  as  that  beam,  although  the  fairest  far. 
Giving  to  horror  grace,  to  danger  pride, 


CANTO  v.]  THE   COMBAT.  127 

Shine  '  martial  Faith  ^  and  Courtesy's  bright  star, 
Through  all  the  wreckful  storms  that  cloud  the  brow 
of  War. 

II. 
That  early  beam,  so  fair  and  sheen/ 
Was  twinkling  through  the  hazel  screen, 
When,  rousing  at  its  glimmer  red. 
The  warriors  left  their  lowly  bed. 
Looked  out  upon  the  dappled "  sky. 
Muttered  their  soldier  matins  by. 
And  then  awaked  their  fire,  to  steal,* 
As  short  and  rude,  their  soldier  meal. 
That  o'er,  the  Gael  ^  around  him  threw 
His  graceful  plaid  of  varied  hue, 
And,  true  to  promise,  led  the  way. 
By  thicket  green  and  mountain  gray. 
A  wildering  path  ! — they  winded  now 
Along  the  precipice's  brow. 
Commanding  tlie  rich  scenes  beneath. 
The  windings  of  the  Forth  and  Teith, 
And  all  the  vales  between  that  lie. 
Till  Stirling's  turrets  melt  in  sky  ; 
Then,  sunk  in  copse,  their  farthest  glance 
Gained  not  the  length  of  horseman's  lance. 
'Twas  oft  so  steep,  the  foot  was  fain 
Assistance  from  the  hand  to  gain  ; 
So  tangled  oft  that,  bursting  through. 
Each  hawthorn  shed  her  showers  of  dew, — 
That  diamond  dew  so  pure  and  clear. 
It  rivals  all  but  Beauty's  tear  ! 

1  i.  e.,  martial  Faith  and  Courtesy's  bright  ^  bright  and  shining. 
star  shine  fair  as  the  earliest  beam,  etc.  ^  spotted  or  flecked. 

2  the  faith  and  courtesy  of  the  chieftain  *  to  steal  their  soldier  meal,  i.  g.,  take  and 
and  of  the  knight  shown  in  the  combat  eat  quickly. 

('•martial"   literally  means  pertaining   to        ^  Highlander. 
Mars,  the  god  of  war). 


128  THE   LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.  [canto 

III. 

At  length  they  came  where,  stern  and  steep. 

The  hill  sinks  down  upon  the  deep. 

Here  Vennachar  in  silver  flows. 

There,  ridge  on  ridge,  Benledi  rose  ; 

Ever  the  hollow  path  twined  on. 

Beneath  steep  bank  and  threatening  stone ; 

A  hundred  men  might  hold  the  post 

•With  hardihood  against  a  host. 

The  rugged  mountain's  scanty  cloak 

Was  dwarfish  shrubs  of  birch  and  oak. 

With  shingles  bare,  and  cliffs  between. 

And  patches  bright  of  bracken  green, 

And  heather  black,  that  waved  so  high. 

It  held  the  copse  in  rivalry. 

But  where  the  lake  slept  deep  and  still. 

Dank  osiers  ^  fringed  the  swamp  and  hill ; 

And  oft  both  path  and  hill  were  torn. 

Where  wintry  torrent  down  had  borne. 

And  heaped  upon  the  cumbered  land 

Its  wreck  of  gravel,  rocks,  and  sand. 

So  toilsome  was  the  road  to  trace. 

The  guide,  abating  ^  of  his  pace. 

Led  slowly  through  the  pass's  jaws. 

And  asked  Fitz-James  by  what  strange  cause 

He  sought  these  wilds,  traversed  by  few. 

Without  a  pass  from  Roderick  Dhu. 

IV. 

'^  Brave  Gael,  my  pass^  in  danger  tried. 
Hangs  in  my  belt  and  by  my  side  ; 
Yet,  sooth  to  tell,''  the  Saxon  said, 
'^I  dreamt  not  now  to  claim  its  aid. 

1  damp  willows.  2  lessening. 


THE   COMBAT.  129 


When  here,  but  three  days  since,  I  came, 
Bewildered  in  pursuit  of  game. 
All  seemed  as  peaceful  and  as  still 
As  the  mist  slumbering  on  yon  hill ; 
Thy  dangerous  Chief  was  then  afar, 
Nor  soon  expected  back  from  war. 
Thus  said,  at  least,  my  mountain-guide. 
Though  deep  perchance  the  villain  lied/' 
'^  Yet  why  a  second  venture  try  ? '' 
''•A  warrior  thou,  and  ask  me  why  ! — 
Moves  our  free  course  by  such  fixed  cause 
As  gives  the  poor  mechanic  laws  ? 
Enough,  I  sought  to  drive  away 
The  lazy  hours  of  peaceful  day  ; 
Slight  cause  will  then  suffice  '  to  guide 
A  Knight's  free  footsteps  far  and  wide, — 
A  falcon  flown,  a  greyhound  strayed. 
The  merry  glance  of  mountain  maid  ; 
Or,  if  a  path  be  dangerous  known. 
The  danger's  self  is  lure^  alone." 


''  Thy  secret  keep,  I  urge  thee  not ; — 
Yet,  ere  again  ye  sought  this  spot, 
Say,  heard  ye  naught  of  Lowland  war. 
Against  Clan-Alpine,  raised  by  Mar  ?  " 
"''No,  by  my  word  ; — of  bands  prepared 
To  guard  King  James's  sports  I  heard  ; 
Nor  doubt  I  aught,  but,  when  they  hear 
This  muster  of  the  mountaineer. 
Their  pennons  will  abroad  be  flung. 
Which  else  in  Doune  had  peaceful  hung." 
"  Free  be  they  flung  !  for  we  were  loath ' 
Their  silken  folds  should  feast  the  moth. 

1  be  sufficient.  2  enticement.  s  unwilling. 

9 


130  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Free  be  they  flung  ! — as  free  shall  wave 
Olan-Alpine^s  pine  in  banner  brave. 
But,  stranger,  peaceful  since  you  came. 
Bewildered  in  the  mountain-game. 
Whence  the  bold  boast  by  which  you  show 
Vich-Alpine^s  vowed  and  mortal  foe  ?  " 
"  Warrior,  but  yester-morn  I  knew 
Naught  of  thy  Chieftain,  Roderick  Dhu, 
Save  as  an  outlawed,  desperate  man. 
The  chief  of  a  rebellious  clan, 
Who,  in  the  Regent's  court  and  sight. 
With  ruffian  dagger  stabbed  a  knight  ; 
Yet  this  alone  might  from  his  part 
Sever  each  true  and  loyal  heart.'' 

VI. 

Wrathful  at  such  arraignment  ^  foul. 
Dark  lowered'"^  the  clansman's  sable  scowl. 
A  space  he  paused,  then  sternly  said, 
.  "  And  heardst  thou  why  he  drew  his  blade  ? 
Heardst  thou  that  shameful  word  and  blow 
Brought  Roderick's  vengeance  on  his  foe  ? 
What  recked  the  Chieftain  if  he  stood 
On  Highland  heath  or  Holy-Rood  ? 
He  rights  such  wrong  where  it  is  given. 
If  it  were  in  the  court  of  heaveli." 
''  Still  was  it  outrage  ; — yet,  'tis  true. 
Not  then  claimed  sovereignty  his  due  ; 
While  Albany  '^  with  feeble  hand 
Held  borrowed  truncheon  *  of  command. 
The  young  King,  mewed  '  in  Stirling  tower, 
Was  stranger  to  respect  and  power. 
But  then,  thy  Chieftain's  robber  life  !^ 
Winning  mean  prey  by  causeless  strife, 

J  charge.  ^  frowned.  IV.)  was  regent  while  the  king  (James  V.) 

s  the  Duke  of  Albany  (cousin  of  James     was  a  minor.  *  staff.         ^  imprisoned. 


v.]  THE    COMBAT.  131 

Wrenching  from  ruined  Lowland  swain' 
His  herds  and  harvest  reared  in  vain, — 
Methinks  a  soul  like  thine  should  scorn 
The  spoils  from  such  foul  foray  borne." 

VII. 

The  Gael  beheld  him  grim  the  while. 
And  answered  with  disdainful  smile  : 
^'  Saxon,  from  yonder  mountain  high, 
I  marked  thee  send  delighted  eye 
Far  to  the  south  and  east,  where  lay, 
Extended  in  succession  gay, 
Deep  waving  fields  and  pastures  green, 
With  gentle  slopes  and  groves  between  : — 
These  fertile  plains,  that  softened  vale. 
Were  once  the  birthright  of  the  Gael. 
The  stranger  came  with  iron  hand. 
And  from  our  fathers  reft^  the  land. 
Where  dwell  we  now  ?     See,  rudely  swell 
Crag  over  crag,  and  fell  o'er  fell. 
Ask  we  this  savage  hill  we  tread 
For  fattened  steer  or  household  bread. 
Ask  we  for  flocks  these  shingles  ^  dry. 
And  well  the  mountain  might  reply, — 
'  To  you,  as  to  your  sires  of  yore. 
Belong  the  target  and  claymore  ! 
I  give  you  shelter  in  my  breast. 
Your  own  good  blades  must  win  the  rest.'' 
Penf*  in  this  fortress  of  the  North, 
Think^st  thou  we  will  not  sally  forth, 
To  spoil  the  spoiler  as  we  may, 
And  from  the  robber  rend  the  prey  ? 
Ay,  by  my  soul  ! — While  on  yon  plain 
The  Saxon  rears  one  shock  of  grain, 

'  countryman.  3  small  stones  imbedded  in  bill-side. 

2  past  tense  of  reave,  to  rob.  *  shut  up. 


132  THE    LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [CANTO 

While  of  ten  thousand  herds  there  strays 

But  one  along  yon  river's  maze, — 

The  Gael,  of  plain  and  river  heir. 

Shall  with  strong  hand  redeem  his  share. 

Where  live  the  mountain  Chiefs  who  hold 

That  plundering  Lowland  field  and  fold 

Is  aught  but  retribution  ^  true  ? 

Seek  other  cause  ^  'gainst  Eoderick  Dhu.'^ 

VIII. 

Answered  Fitz-James  :  '^'^  And,  if  I  sought, 

Think'st  thou  no  other  could  be  brought  ? 

What  deem  ye  of  my  path  waylaid  ? 

My  life  given  o'er  to  ambuscade  ?  "  ^ 

'^  As  of  a  meed^  to  rashness  due  : 

Hadst  thou  sent  warning  fair  and  true, — 

I  seek  my  hound  or  falcon  strayed, 

I  seek,  good  faith,  a  Highland  maid, — 

Free  hadst  thou  been  to  come  and  go  ; 

But  secret  path  marks  secret  foe. 

Nor  yet  for  this,  even  as  a  spy, 

Hadst  thou,  unheard,  been  doomed  to  die. 

Save  to  fulfil  an  augury." 

"  Well,  let  it  pass  ;  nor  will  I  now 

Fresh  cause  of  enmity  avow. 

To  chafe  thy  mood  and  cloud  thy  brow. 

Enough,  I  am  by  promise  tied 

To  match  me  with  this  man  of  pride  : 

Twice  have  I  sought  Clan-Alpine's  glen 

In  peace  ;  but  when  I  come  again, 

I  come  with  banner,  brand,  and  bow. 

As  leader  seeks  his  mortal  foe. 

1  that  which  is  restored  or  paid  hack.  ^  lying  in  wait  to  attack  an  enemy  by  sur- 

2  these  forays  were   considered   by  the     prise. 

Highlanders   not   disgraceful ;    they   gave        ^  reward  ;  recompense, 
the  young  chiefs  opportunity  to  show  their  courage  and  leadership. 


v.]  THE   COMBAT.  133 

For  love-lorn  *  swain  in  lady's  bower 
Ne'er  panted  for  the  appointed  hour, 
As  I,  until  before  me  stand 
This  rebel  Chieftain  and  his  band  !  " 


IX. 

''  Have  then  thy  wish  ! '' — He  whistled  shrill. 

And  he  was  answered  from  the  hill ; 

Wild  as  the  scream  of  the  curlew/ 

From  crag  to  crag  the  signal  flew. 

Instant,  through  copse  and  heath,  arose 

Bonnets  and  spears  and  bended  bows  ; 

On  right,  on  left,  above,  below. 

Sprung  up  at  once  the  lurking  foe  ; 

From  shingles  gray  their  lances  start. 

The  bracken  ^  bush  sends  forth  the  dart, 

The  rushes  and  the  willow-wand 

Are  bristling  into  axe  and  brand. 

And  every  tuft  of  broom  gives  life 

To  plaided  warrior  armed  for  strife. 

That  whistle  garrisoned  the  glen 

At  once  with  full  five  hundred  men. 

As  if  the  yawning  hill  to  heaven 

A  subterranean  *  host  had  given. 

Watching  their  leader's  beck  ^  and  will. 

All  silent  there  they  stood  and  still. 

Like  the  loose  crags  whose  threatening  mass 

Lay  tottering  o'er  the  hollow  pass. 

As  if  an  infant's  touch  could  urge 

Their  headlong  passage  down  the  verge, 

With  step  and  weapon  forward  flung, 

Upon  the  mountain-side  they  hung. 

1  love-lost ;  forsaken  by  one's  love.  ^  concealed  in  caves  and  hiding  places  in 

2  wading  bird.  the  earth.  ^  nod. 

3  fern,  growing  to  the  height  of  three  or  four  feet. 


^134  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

The  Mountaineer  cast  glance  of  pride 

Along  Benledi's  living  side. 

Then  fixed  his  eye  and  sable  brow 

Full  on  Fitz- James  :  ''  How  say'st  thou  now  ? 

These  are  Clan- Alpine's  warriors  true  ; 

And,  Saxon, — I  am  Roderick  Dhu  ! " 

X. 

Fitz-James  was  brave  :  though  to  his  heart 

The  life-blood  thrilled  with  sudden  start, 

He  manned  himself  with  dauntless  air. 

Returned  the  Chief  his  haughty  stare. 

His  back  against  a  rock  he  bore. 

And  firmly  placed  his  foot  before  : — 

''  Come  one,  come  all  !  ^  this  rock  shall  fly 

From  its  firm  base  as  soon  as  1." 

Sir  Roderick  marked, — and  in  his  eyes 

Respect  was  mingled  with  surprise. 

And  the  stern  joy  which  warriors  feel 

In  foeman  worthy  of  their  steel. 

Short  space  he  stood — then  waved  his  hand  : 

Down  sunk  the  disappearing  band  ; 

Each  warrior  vanished  where  he  stood. 

In  broom  or  bracken,  heath  or  wood  ; 

Sunk  brand  and  si^ear  and  bended  bow. 

In  osiers  "^  pale  and  copses  low  ; 

It  seemed  as  if  their  mother  Earth 

Had  swallowed  up  her  warlike  birth. 

The  wind^'s  last  breath  had  tossed  in  air 

Pennon  and  plaid  and  plumage  fair, — 

The  next  but  swept  a  lone  hill-side, 

Where  heath  and  fern  were  waving  wide  : 

The  sun's  last  glance  was  glinted  ^  back 

From  spear  and  glaive,  from  targe  and  jack,* — 

1  whether  one  come,  etc.        ^  flashed.  ■•  leather  jacket,  plated  with  small  pieces 

2  willows.  of  burnished  metal. 


v.]  THE   COMBAT.  185 

The  next,  all  nnreflected,  shone 

On  bracken  green  and  cold  gray  stone. 

XI. 

Fitz- James  looked  round, — yet  scarce  believed 

The  witness  that  his  sight  received  ; 

Such  apparition  '  well  might  seem 

Delusion  ^  of  a  dreadful  dream. 

Sir  Eoderick  in  suspense  he  eyed, 

And  to  his  look  the  Chief  replied  : 

'^  Fear  naught — nay,  that  I  need  not  say — ■ 

But — doubt  not  aught  from  mine  array. 

Thou  art  my  guest ; — I  pledged  my  word 

As  far  as  Coilantogle  ford  : 

Nor  would  I  call  a  clansman^s  brand 

For  aid  against  one  valiant  hand, 

Though  on  our  strife  lay  every  vale 

Eent  by  the  Saxon  from  the  Gael. 

So  move  we  on  ; — I  only  meant 

To  show  the  reed  on  which  you  leant. 

Deeming  this  path  you  might  pursue 

Without  a  pass  from  Eoderick  Dhu/' 

They  moved  ; — I  said  Fitz-James  was  brave 

As  ever  knight  that  belted  glaive. 

Yet  dare  not  say  that  now  his  blood 

Kept  on  its  wont  and  tempered  flood, 

As,  following  Eoderick^s  stride,  he  drew 

That  seeming  lonesome  pathway  through, 

Which  yet  by  fearful  proof  was  rife  ^ 

With  lances,  that,  to  take  his  life. 

Waited  but  signal  from  a  guide. 

So  late  dishonored  and  defied. 

Ever,  by  stealth,  his  eyes  sought  round 

The  vanished  guardians  of  the  ground, 

1  sudden  appearance.  2  deception.  3  swarming. 


136  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  [cANTO 

And  still  from  copse  and  heather  deep 
Fancy  saw  spear  and  broadsword  peep^, 
And  in  the  plover's  shrilly  strain 
The  signal  whistle  heard  again. 
Nor  breathed  he  free  till  far  behind 
The  pass  was  left ;  for  then  they  wind 
Along  a  wide  and  level  green. 
Where  neither  tree  nor  tuft  was  seen, 
Nor  rush  nor  bush  of  broom  was  near. 
To  hide  a  bonnet  or  a  spear. 

XII. 

The  Chief  in  silence  strode  before, 

And  reached  that  torrent's  sounding  shore. 

Which,  daughter  of  three  mighty  lakes,  ^ 

From  Vennachar  in  silver  breaks. 

Sweeps  through  the  plain,  and  ceaseless  mines 

On  Bochastle  ^  the  mouldering  lines. 

Where  Eome,  the  Empress  of  the  world. 

Of  yore  her  eagle  ^  wings  unfurled. 

And  here  his  course  the  Chieftain  stayed. 

Threw  down  his  target  and  his  plaid. 

And  to  the  Lowland  warrior  said  : 

"  Bold  Saxon  1  to  his  promise  just, 

Yich-Alpine  has  discharged  his  trust. 

This  murderous  Chief,  this  ruthless  man. 

This  head  of  a  rebellious  clan, 

Hath  led  thee  safe,  through  watch  and  ward. 

Far  past  Clan-Alpine's  outmost  guard. 

Now,  man  to  man,  and  steel  to  steel, 

A  Chieftain's  vengeance  thou  shalt  feel. 

1  Katrine,  Achray,  and  Vennachar.  Upon  a  small  eminence  called  the  Dun  of 

2  "The  torrent  which  discharges  itself  from  Bochastle,  and,  indeed,  on  the  plain  itself. 
Loch  Vennachar,  the  lowest  and  eastmost  are  some  entrenchments  which  have  been 
of  the  three  lakes  which  form  the  scenery  thought  Roman. " — Scott. 

adjoining  to  the  Trosachs,  sweeps  through        ^  the  eagle  was  the  principal  standard  of 
a  flat  and  extensive  moor  called  Bochastle.     the  Roman  army. 


THE    COMBAT.  137 

See,  here  all  vantageless  ^  I  stand. 
Armed  like  thyself  with  single  brand  ; 
For  this  is  Coilantogle  ford, 
And  thou  must  keep  thee  with  thy  sword/' 

XIII. 

The  Saxon  paused  :  ^'  I  ne'er  delayed. 

When  foeman  bade  me  draw  my  blade  ; 

Nay  more,  brave  Chief,  I  vowed  thy  death  ; 

Yet  sure  thy  fair  and  generous  faith. 

And  my  deep  debt  for  life  preserved, 

A  better  meed  have  well  deserved  : 

Can  naught  but  blood  or  feud  atone  ? 

Are  there  no  means  V — ''  No,  stranger,  none  ! 

And  here, — to  fire  thy  flagging  zeal, — 

The  Saxon  cause  rests  on  thy  steel  ; 

For  thus  spoke  Fate  by  prophet  bred 

Between  the  living  and  the  dead  : 

'  Who  spills  the  foremost  foeman's  life. 

His  party  conquers  in  the  strife.'  " 

''  Then,  by  my  word,"  the  Saxon  said, 

"  The  riddle  is  already  read. 

Seek  yonder  brake  beneath  the  cliff, — 

There  lies  Red  Murdoch,  stark  and  stiff. 

Thus  Fate  hath  solved  her  prophecy  ; 

Then  yield  to  Fate,  and  not  to  me. 

To  James  at  Stirling  let  us  go. 

When,  if  thou  wilt  be  still  his  foe. 

Or  if  the  King  shall  not  agree 

To  grant  thee  grace  and  favor  free, 

I  plight  mine  honor,  oath,  and  word 

That,  to  thy  native  strength  restored. 

With  each  advantage  shalt  thou  stand 

That  aids  thee  now  to  guard  thy  land." 

1  without  advantage. 


138  THE    LADY    OF    THE    LAKE.  [cANTO 

XIV. 

Dark  lightning  flashed  from  Roderick's  eye  : 

'*^  Soars  thy  presumption/  then,  so  high, 

Because  a  wretched  kern  ye  slew. 

Homage  ^  to  name  to  Roderick  Dhu  ? 

He  yields  not,  he,  to  man  nor  Fate  ! 

Thns  add'st  but  fuel  to  my  hate  ; — 

My  clansman's  blood  demands  revenge. 

Not  yet  prepared  ? — By  heaven,  I  change 

My  thought,  and  hold  thy  valor  light 

As  that  of  some  vain  carpet  knight,^ 

Who  ill  deserved  my  courteous  care, 

And  whose  best  boast  is  but  to  wear 

A  braid  of  his  fair  lady's  hair." 

''  I  thank  thee,  Roderick,  for  the  word  ! 

It  nerves  my  heart,  it  steels  my  sword  ; 

For  I  have  sworn  this  braid  to  stain 

In  the  best  blood  that  warms  thy  vein. 

Now,  truce,*  farewell  !  and,  ruth,^  begone  ! — 

Yet  think  not  that  by  thee  alone. 

Proud  Chief  !  can  courtesy  be  shown  ; 

Though  not  from  copse,  or  heath,  or  cairn. 

Start  at  my  whistle  clansmen  stern. 

Of  this  small  horn  one  feeble  blast 

Would  fearful  odds  against  thee  cast. 

But  fear  not — doubt  not — which  thou  wilt — 

We  try  this  quarrel  hilt  to  hilt." 

Then  each  at  once  his  falchion  drew. 

Each  on  the  ground  his  scabbard  threw. 

Each  looked  to  sun  and  stream  and  plain 

As  what  they  ne'er  might  see  again  ; 

Then  foot  and  point  and  eye  opposed, 

In  dubious"  strife  they  darkly  closed. 

1  daring.  2  submission.  *  stopping  of  warfare  for  a  time. 

3  carpet  kniglit :  linight  winning  honor  in        ^  pity, 
royal  halls  by  favoritism.  *  uncertain  in  result. 


v.]  THE   COMBAT.  139 

XV. 

Ill  fared  it  then  with  Roderick  Dhu, 
That  on  the  field  his  targe  he  threw, 
Whose  brazen  studs  and  tough  bull-hide 
Had  death  so  often  dashed  aside  ; 
For,  trained  abroad  his  arms  to  wield, 
Fitz-James's  blade  was  sword  and  shield. 
He  practised  every  pass  and  ward. 
To  thrust,^  to  strike,  to  feint,  to  guard  ; 
While  less  expert,  though  stronger  far. 
The  Gael  maintained  unequal  war. 
Three  times  in  closing  strife  they  stood. 
And  thrice  the  Saxon  blade  drank  blood ; 
'No  stinted  draught,  no  scanty  tide. 
The  gushing  flood  the  tartans  dyed. 
Fierce  Roderick  felt  the  fatal  drain. 
And  showered  his  blows  like  wintry  rain  ; 
And,  as  firm  rock  or  castle-roof 
Against  the  winter  shower  is  proof. 
The  foe,  invulnerable  still. 
Foiled  his  wild  rage  by  steady  skill  ; 
Till,  at  advantage  ta^en,  his  brand 
Forced  Roderick's  weapon  from  his  hand. 
And  backward  borne  upon  the  lea, 
Brought  the  proud  Chieftain  to  his  knee. 

XVI. 

'*  Kow  yield  thee,  or  by  Him  who  made 

The  world,  thy  heart's  blood  dyes  my  blade  !  ^' 

"  Thy  threats,  thy  mercy,  I  defy  ! 

Let  recreant  ^  yield,  who  fears  to  die." 

Like  adder  darting  from  his  coil. 

Like  wolf  that  dashes  through  the  toil, 

1  attack  with  a  pointed  weapon.      2  coward  ;  villain  ;  one  not  to  be  depended  upon. 


140  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Like  mountain-cat  who  guards  her  young, 
Full  at  Fitz-James's  throat  he  sprung  ; 
Eeceived,  but  recked  not  of  a  wound. 
And  locked  his  arms  his  foeman  round. — 
Now,  gallant  Saxon,  hold  thine  own  ! 
'No  maiden's  hand  is  round  thee  thrown  ! 
That  desperate  grasp  thy  frame  might  feel 
Through  bars  of  brass  and  triple  steel  ! 
They  tug,  they  strain  !  down,  down  they  go. 
The  Gael  above,  Fitz-James  below. 
The  Chieftain's  gripe  his  throat  compressed, 
His  knee  was  planted  on  his  breast ; 
His  clotted  locks  he  backward  threw. 
Across  his  brow  his  hand  he  drew. 
From  blood  and  mist  to  clear  his  sight. 
Then  gleamed  aloft  his  dagger  bright  ! 
But  hate  and  fury  ill  supplied 
The  stream  of  life's  exhausted  tide. 
And  all  too  late  the  advantage  came, 
To  turn  the  odds  of  deadly  game  ; 
For,  while  the  dagger  gleamed  on  high, 
Reeled  soul  and  sense,  reeled  brain  and  eye. 
Down  came  the  blow  !  but  in  the  heath 
The  erring  ^  blade  found  bloodless  sheath.'* 
The  struggling  foe  may  now  unclasp 
The  fainting  Chief's  relaxing  grasp  ; 
Un wounded  from  the  dreadful  close,  ^ 
But  breathless  all,  Fitz-James  arose. 

XVII. 

He  faltered  thanks  to  Heaven  for  life. 
Redeemed,  unhoped,  from  desperate  strife ; 
Next  on  his  foe  his  look  he  cast. 
Whose  every  gasp  appeared  his  last ; 

'      1  wandering  from  the  mark.  2  covering.  3  grapple. 


v.]  THE   COMBAT.  141 

In  Eoderick^s  gore  he  dipped  the  braid, — 

'^  Poor  Blanche  !   thy  wrongs  are  dearly  paid  ; 

Yet  with  thy  foe  must  die  or  live 

The  praise  that  faith  and  valor  give." 

With  that  he  blew  a  bugle  note. 

Undid  the  collar  from  his  throat, 

Unbonneted,  and  by  the  wave 

Sat  down  his  brow  and  hands  to  lave. 

Then  faint  afar  are  heard  the  feet 

Of  rushing  steeds  in  gallop  fleet ; 

The  sounds  increase,  and  now  are  seen 

Four  mounted  squires  in  Lincoln  green  ; 

Two  who  bear  lance,  and  two  who  lead 

By  loosened  rein  a  saddled  steed  ; 

Each  onward  held  his  headlong  course, 

And  by  Fitz-James  reined  up  his  horse, — 

With  wonder  viewed  the  bloody  spot, — 

'^Exclaim  not,  gallants  !  ^  question  not. — 

You,  Herbert  and  Luifness,  alight. 

And  bind  the  wounds  of  yonder  knight ; 

Let  the  gray  palfrey  ^  bear  his  weight. 

We  destined  for  a  fairer  freight. 

And  bring  him  on  to  Stirling  straight ; 

I  will  before  at  better  speed. 

To  seek  fresh  horse  and  fitting  weed. 

The  sun  rides  high  ; — I  must  be  boune 

To  see  the  archer-game  at  noon  ; 

But  lightly  Bayard  clears  the  lea. — 

De  Vaux  and  Herries,  follow  me. 

XYIII. 

''  Stand,  Bayard,  stand  ! " — the  steed  obeyed, 
With  arching  neck  and  bended  head, 

» brave  men.  2  small  saddle  horse,  for  lady's  use. 


142  THE    LADY   OF   THE    LAKE.  [CANTo 

And  glancing  eye  and  quivering  ear. 

As  if  he  loved  his  lord  to  hear. 

No  foot  Fitz-James  in  stirrup  stayed. 

No  grasp  upon  the  saddle  laid. 

But  wreathed  his  left  hand  in  the  mane. 

And  lightly  bounded  from  the  plain. 

Turned  on  the  horse  his  armed  heel. 

And  stirred  his  courage  with  the  steel. 

Bounded  the  fiery  steed  in  air. 

The  rider  sat  erect  and  fair, 

Then  like  a  bolt  from  steel  crossbow 

Forth  launched,  along  the  plain  they  go. 

They  dashed  that  rapid  torrent  through. 

And  up  Carhonie's  hill  they  flew  ; 

Still  at  the  gallop  pricked  the  Knight, 

His  merrymen  followed  as  they  might. 

Along  thy  banks,  swift  Teith  !  they  ride. 

And  in  the  race  they  mock  thy  tide  ; 

Torry  '  and  Lendrick  ^  now  are  past. 

And  Dernstown  ^  lies  behind  them  cast  ; 

They  rise,  the  bannered  towers  of  Doune,'^ 

They  sink  in  distant  woodland  soon  ; 

Blair-Drummond  ^  sees  the  hoofs  strike  fire. 

They  sweep  like  breeze  through  Ochtertyre  ;  ^ 

They  mark  just  glance  and  disappear 

The  lofty  brow  of  ancient  Kier  ; ' 

They  bathe  their  coursers'  sweltering  sides. 

Dark  Forth  !  amid  thy  sluggish  tides. 

And  on  the  opposing  shore  take  ground. 

With  plash,  with  scramble,  and  with  bound. 

Right-hand  they  leave  thy  cliffs,  Craig-Forth  ! 

And  soon  the  bulwark  of  the  North, 

1  Torry,  Lendrick,  Dernstown,  Blair-  the  residence  of  the  Earls  of  Menteith,  now 
Drummond,  Ochtertyre,  and  Kier,  lie  on  the  property  of  the  Earl  of  Moray,  are  situ- 
the  banks  of  the  Teith.  ated  at  the  confluence  of  the  Ardoch  and 

2  "The  ruins  of  Dounc  Castle,  formerly  the  Teith." — Scott. 


v.]  THE   COMBAT.  143 

Gray  Stirling,'  with  her  towers  and  town. 
Upon  their  fleet  career  looked  down. 


XIX. 


As  up  the  flinty  path  they  strained, 

Sudden  his  steed  the  leader  reined  ; 

A  signal  to  his  squire  he  flung, 

Who  instant  to  his  stirrup  sprung  : — 

*^  Seest  thou,  De  Vaux,  yon  woodsman  gray. 

Who  town  ward  holds  the  rocky  way, 

Of  stature  tall  and  poor  array  ? 

Mark'st  thou  the  firm,  yet  active  stride 

With  which  he  scales  the  mountain-side  ? 

Know'st  thou  from  whence  he  comes,  or  whom  ?" 

"'  No,  by  my  word  ; — a  burly  groom 

He  seems,  who  in  the  field  or  chase 

A  baron^s  train  would  nobly  grace — ^' 

'^  Out,  out,  De  Vaux  !  can  fear  supply. 

And  Jealousy,  no  sharper  eye  ? 

Afar,  ere  to  the  hill  he  drew, 

That  stately  form  and  step  I  knew  ; 

Like  form  in  Scotland  is  not  seen. 

Treads  not  such  step  on  Scottish  green. 

^Tis  James  of  Douglas,  by  Saint  Serle  ! 

The  uncle  of  the  banished  Earl. 

Away,  away,  to  court,  to  show 

The  near  approach  of  dreaded  foe  : 

The  King  must  stand  upon  his  guard  ; 

Douglas  and  he  must  meet  prepared. ^^ 

Then  right-hand  wheeled  their  steeds,  and  straight 

They  won  the  Castle's  postern  gate.^ 

'  This    castle  was  one  of  the  principal     commands  a  fine  view  of  the  surrounding 
fortresses  of  Scotland,  and  the  residence  of     country  and  Firth  of  Forth. 
James  V     Standing  upon  a  lofty  rock,  it        2  back  gate. 


144  THE  LADY   OF  THE  LAKE.  [canto 

XX. 

The  Douglas,  who  had  bent  his  way 

From  Cambus-kenneth^s  abbey  gray, 

Now,  as  he  climbed  the  rocky  shelf. 

Held  sad  communion  with  himself  : — 

"  Yes  !  all  is  true  my  fears  could  frame ; 

A  prisoner  lies  the  noble  Graeme, 

And  fiery  Roderick  soon  will  feel 

The  vengeance  of  the  royal  steel. 

I,  only  I,  can  ward  their  fate, — 

God  grant  the  ransom  come  not  late  ! 

The  Abbess  hath  her  promise  given. 

My  child  shall  be  the  bride  of  Heaven  ;  ^ — 

Be  pardoned  one  repining  tear  ! 

For  He  who  gave  her  knows  how  dear. 

How  excellent ! — but  that  is  by,^ 

And  now  my  business  is — to  die. — 

Ye  towers  !  within  whose  circuit  dread 

A  Douglas  ^  by  his  sovereign  bled  ; 

And  thou,  0  sad  and  fatal  mound  !  * 

That  oft  hast  heard  the  death-axe  sound. 

As  on  the  noblest  of  the  land 

Fell  the  stern  headsman^s  bloody  hand, — 

The  dungeon,  block,  and  nameless  tomb 

Prepare — for  Douglas  seeks  his  doom  ! 

But  hark  !  what  blithe  and  jolly  peal 

Makes  the  Franciscan  ^  steeple  reel  ? 

And  see  !  upon  the  crowded  street. 

In  motley  groups  what  masquers  meet  ! 

Banner  and  pageant,  pipe  and  drum. 

And  merry  morrice-dancers  ®  come. 

1  one  whose  life  is  devoted  to  the  Church.        ^  Roman  Catholic  order,  founded  by  St. 

2  past.  ,  Francis. 

3  William,  eighth  Earl  of  Douglas,  stabbed        ^  performers  of  a  Moorish  dance,  in  which 
by  James  11.  bells  and  tinkling  ornaments  were  used. 

4  an  eminence,  northeast  of  Stirling  Castle,  where  state  criminals  were  executed. 


v.]  THE    COMBAT.  145 

I  guess,  by  all  this  quaint  array. 
The  burghers  hold  their  sports  to-day. 
James  will  be  there  ;  he  loves  such  show. 
Where  the  good  yeoman  ^  bends  his  bow, 
-  And, the  tough  wrestler  foils  his  foe. 
As  well  as  where,  in  proud  career. 
The  high-born  tilter  ^  shivers  spear, 
ril  follow  to  the  Castle-park, 
And  play  my  prize  ; — King  James  shall  mark 
If  age  has  tamed  these  sinews  stark,  ^ 
Whose  force  so  oft  in  happier  days  , 

His  boyish  wonder  loved  to  praise/' 

XXI. 

The  Castle  gates  were  open  flung. 

The  quivering  drawbridge  rocked  and  rung. 

And  echoed  loud  the  flinty  street 

Beneath  the  coursers^  clattering  feet, 

As  slowly  down  the  steep  descent 

Fair  Scotland's  King  and  nobles  went, 

While  all  along  the  crowded  way 

Was  jubilee  and  loud  huzza. 

And  ever  James  was  bending  low 

To  his  white  jennet's  *  saddle-bow, 

Dofflng  ^  his  cap  to  city  dame. 

Who  smiled  and  blushed  for  pride  and  shame. 

And  well  the  simperer  might  be  vain, — 

He  chose  the  fairest  of  the  train. 

Gravely  he  greets  each  city  sire, 

Commends  each  pageant's  quaint  attire, 

Gives  to  the  dancers  thanks  aloud. 

And  smiles  and  nods  upon  the  crowd, 

1  countryman,  next  in  rank  to  gentry.  ^  strong  and  stiff  muscles. 

■■'  here  means:  one  using  a  lance  on  horse-  ■*  small  Spanish  horse, 

back.  6  taking  off. 
10 


146  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Who  rend  the  heavens  with  their  acclaims, — 
"Long  live  the  Commons^  King/  King  James  I" 
Behind  the  King  thronged  peer  and  knight. 
And  noble  dame  and  damsel  bright. 
Whose  fiery  steeds  ill  brooked  the  stay 
Of  the  steep  street  and  crowded  way. 
But  in  the  train  you  might  discern 
Dark  lowering  brow  and  visage  stern  ; 
There  nobles  mourned  their  pride  restrained. 
And  the  mean  burgher's  joys  disdained  ; 
And  chiefs,  who,  hostage^  for  their  clan, 
Were  each  from  home  a  banished  man. 
There  thought  upon  their  own  gray  tower. 
Their  waving  woods,  their  feudal  power,^ 
And  deemed  themselves  a  shameful  part 
Of  pageant  which  they  cursed  in  heart. 

XXII. 

Now,  in  the  Castle-park,  drew  out 
Their  checkered  *  bands  the  joyous  rout. 
There  morricers,^  with  bell  at  heel 
And  blade  in  hand,  their  mazes  wheel ; 
But  chief,  beside  the  butts,  there  stand 
Bold  Eobin  Hood  ®  and  all  his  band, — 
Friar  Tuck  ^  with  quarterstaff '  and  cowl, 
Old  Scathelocke  '  with  his  surly  scowl, 
Maid  Marian,^  fair  as  ivory  bone. 
Scarlet,''  and  Mutch,'  and  Little  John  ; ' 
Their  bugles  challenge  all  that  will, 
In  archery  to  prove  their  skill. 

1  so-called,  since  he  favored  the  common  «  noted  outlaw  in  the  reign  of  Richard  I. 
people  as  against  the  nobles.  It  was  a  favorite  frolic  at  festivals  to  repre- 

2  held  by  the  King  as  security  for  the  sent  him  and  his  companions  in  their  forest 
good  behavior  of  their  followers.  attire. 

3  ability  to  command  the  services  of  ten-  ''  companions  of  Robin  Hood  mentioned  in 
ants  or  vassals  in  case  of  war.  "  Ivanhoe." 

*  gayly  dressed  in  motley  colors.  ^  stout  staff  used  for  defence. 

5  morrice-dancers. 


v.]  THE   COMBAT.  147 

The  Douglas  bent  a  bow  of  might, — 
His  first  shaft  centred  in  the  white, 
And  when  in  turn  he  shot  again, 
His  second  split  the  first  in  twain. 
From  the  King^s  hand  must  Douglas  take 
A  silver  dart,  the  archers'"  stake  ; 
Fondly  he  watched,  with  watery  eye, 
Some  answering  glance  of  sympathy, — 
No  kind  emotion  made  reply  ! 
Indifferent  as  to  archer  wight,  ^ 
The  monarch  gave  the  arrow  bright. 

XXIII. 

Now,  clear  the  ring  !  for,  hand  to  hand. 
The  manly  wrestlers  take  their  stand. 
Two  o^er  the  rest  superior  rose. 
And  proud  demanded  mightier  foes, — 
Nor  called  in  vain,  for  Douglas  came. — 
For  life  is  Hugh  of  Larbert  lame  ; 
Scarce  better  John  of  Alloa^s  '^  fare, 
Whom  senseless  home  his  comrades  bare. 
Prize  of  the  wrestling  match,  the  King 
To  Douglas  gave  a  golden  ring, 
While  coldly  glanced  his  eye  of  blue, 
As  frozen  drop  of  wintry  dew. 
Douglas  Avould  speak,  but  in  his  breast 
His  struggling  soul  his  words  suppressed  ; 
Indignant  then  he  turned  him  where 
Their  arms  the  brawny  ^  yeomen  bare. 
To  hurl  the  massive  bar  in  air. 
When  each  his  utmost  strength  had  shown, 
The  Douglas  rent  an  earth-fast  stone 

*  strong  and   valiant.      Obsolete  in  this        '  a  seaport   on  the  Firth  of  Forth,  six 
sense,    and  wholly    distinct   from     wight     miles  east  of  Stirling. 
meaning  a  person.  ^  strong  ;  muscular. 


148  THE   LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

From  its  deep  bed,  then  heaved  it  high, 

And  sent  the  fragment  through  the  sky 

A  rood  ^  beyond  the  farthest  mark  ; 

And  still  in  Stirling's  royal  park. 

The  gray-haired  sires,  who  know  the  past. 

To  strangers  point  the  Douglas  cast. 

And  moralize  "^  on  the  decay 

Of  Scottish  strength  in  modern  day. 

XXIV. 

The  vale  with  loud  applauses  rang. 
The  Ladies'  Rock  ^  sent  back  the  clang. 
The  King,  with  look  unmoved,  bestowed 
A  purse  well  filled  with  pieces  broad. 
Indignant  smiled  the  Douglas  proud. 
And  threw  the  gold  among  the  crowd, 
A¥ho  now  with  anxious  wonder  scan. 
And  sharper  glance,  the  dark  gray  man  ; 
Till  whispers  rose  among  the  throng. 
That  heart  so  free,  and  hand  so  strong. 
Must  to  the  Douglas  blood  belong. 
The  old  men  marked  and  shook  the  head. 
To  see  his  hair  with  silver  spread. 
And  winked  aside,  and  told  each  son 
Of  feats  upon  the  English  done. 
Ere  Douglas  of  the  stalwart  hand 
,        Was  exiled  from  his  native  land. 

The  women  praised  his  stately  form, 
Though  wrecked  by  many  a  winter's  storm  ; 
The  youth  with  awe  and  wonder  saw 
His  strength  surpassing  Nature's  law. 
Thus  Judged,  as  is  their  wont,  the  crowd. 
Till  murmurs  rose  to  clamors  loud. 

1  here  means  the  linear  measure,  rod  ;         2  draw  lessons  from, 
five  and  a  half  yards.  ^  mound  whence  ladies  viewed  the  sports. 


v.]  THE   COMBAT.  149 

But  not  a  glance  from  that  proud  ring 
Of  peers  who  circled  round  the  King 
With  Douglas  held  communion  kind. 
Or  called  the  banished  man  to  mind ; 
No,  not  from  those  who  at  the  chase 
Once  held  his  side  the  honored  place. 
Begirt  ^  his  board,  and  in  the  field 
Found  safety  underneath  his  shield  ; 
For  he  whom  royal  eyes  disown. 
When  was  his  form  to  courtiers  known  ! 

XXV. 

The  Monarch  saw  the  gambols  flag,' 
And  bade  let  loose  a  gallant  stag. 
Whose  pride,  the  holiday  to  crown, 
Two  favorite  greyhounds  should  pull  down. 
That  venison  free  and  Bourdeaux  wine 
Might  serve  the  archery  to  dine. 
But  Lufra, — whom  from  Douglas^  side 
Nor  bribe  nor  threat  could  e'er  divide. 
The  fleetest  hound  in  all  the  North, — 
Brave  Lufra  saw,  and  darted  forth. 
She  left  the  royal  hounds  midway. 
And  dashing  on  the  antlered  prey. 
Sunk  her  sharp  muzzle  in  his  flank, 
And  deep  the  flowing  life-blood  drank. 
The  King's  stout  huntsman  saw  the  sport 
By  strange  intruder  broken  short. 
Came  up,  and  with  his  leash  ^  unbound 
In  anger  struck  the  noble  hound. 
The  Douglas  had  endured,  that  morn. 
The  King's  cold  look,  the  nobles'  scorn. 
And  last,  and  worst  to  spirit  proud, 
Had  borne  the  pity  of  the  crowd ; 

»  surrounded.  3  leather  thong  and  line  for  tethering  a 

2  amusements  drag,  or  lose  their  interest,     hound. 


160  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

But  Lufra  had  been  fondly  bred. 

To  share  his  board,  to  watch  his  bed. 

And  oft  would  Ellen  Lufra^s  neck 

In  maiden  glee  with  garlands  deck  ; 

They  were  such  playmates  that  with  name 

Of  Lufra  Ellen^s  image  came. 

His  stifled  wrath  is  brimming  high. 

In  darkened  brow  and  flashing  eye  ; 

As  waves  before  the  bark  divide. 

The  crowd  gave  way  before  his  stride  ; 

Needs  but  a  buffet  ^  and  no  more, 

The  groom  lies  senseless  in  his  gore. 

Such  blow  no  other  hand  could  deal. 

Though  gauntleted  in  glove  of  steel. 

XXVI. 

Then  clamored  loud  the  royal  train. 

And  brandished  swords  and  staves  amain. 

But  stern  the  baron^s  warning  :  "  Back  ! 

Back,  on  your  lives,  ye  menial  ^  pack  ! 

Beware  the  Douglas. — Yes  !  behold. 

King  James  !     The  Douglas,  doomed  of  old. 

And  vainly  sought  for  near  and  far, 

A  victim  to  atone  the  war, 

A  willing  victim,  now  attends, 

Nor  craves  thy  grace  but  for  his  friends.  ^^ — 

^'^  Thus  is  my  clemency  ^  repaid  ? 

Presumptuous  Lord  \"  the  Monarch  said  : 

"  Of  thy  misproud "  ambitious  clan. 

Thou,  James  of  Bothwell,  wert  the  man. 

The  only  man,  in  whom  a  foe 

My  woman-mercy  *  would  not  know  ; 

But  shall  a  Monarches  presence  brook 

Injurious  blow  and  haughty  look  ? — 

^  a  blow  with  the  fist.  ■*  overproud,  or  wrongfully  proud. 

*  servile.  ^  mercy.  *  weak  or  effeminate  clemency. 


Y.]  THE   COMBAT.  151 

What  ho  !  the  Captain  of  our  G-uard  ! 

Give  the  offender  fitting  ward.' — 

Break  off  the  sports  ! " — for  tumult  rose, 

And  yeomen  ^gan  to  bend  their  bows, — 

'*  Break  off  the  sports  ! ''  he  said  and  frowned, 

*^  And  bid  our  horsemen  clear  the  ground." 

XXVII. 

Then  uproar  wild  and  misarray 

Marred  the  fair  form  of  festal  day. 

The  horsemen  pricked  among  the  crowd, 

Repelled  ^  by  threats  and  insult  loud  ; 

To  earth  are  borne  the  old  and  weak, 

The  timorous  fly,  the  women  shriek  ; 

With  flint,  with  shaft,  with  staff,  with  bar. 

The  hardier  urge  tumultuous  war. 

At  once  round  Douglas  darkly  sweep 

The  royal  spears  in  circle  deep. 

And  slowly  scale  the  pathway  steep, 

While  on  the  rear  in  thunder  pour 

The  rabble  with  disordered  roar. 

With  grief  the  noble  Douglas  saw 

The  Commons  rise  against  the  law, 

And  to  the  leading  soldier  said  : 

'^  Sir  John  of  Hyndford,^  'twas  my  blade 

That  knighthood*  on  thy  shoulder  laid  ; 

For  that  good  deed  permit  me  then 

A  word  with  these  misguided  men. — 

XXVIII. 

•   '^  Hear,  gentle  friends,  ere  yet  for  me 
Ye  break  the  bands  of  fealty.^ 

1  imprisonment ;  safe  keeping.  of  the  flat  part  of  a  sword  upon  the  shoulder 

2  driven  bacls.    ^  a  village  in  Lanarkshire,     by  the  prince  or  his  representative. 

*  This  degree  was  conferred  with  a  stroke        ^  loyalty  in  the  service  of  a  superior. 


152  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

My  life,  my  honor,  and  my  cause, 

I  tender  free  to  Scotland's  laws. 

Are  these  so  weak  as  must  require 

The  aid  of  your  misguided  ire  ? 

Or  if  I  suffer  causeless  wrong, 

Is  then  my  selfish  rage  so  strong. 

My  sense  of  public  weal  so  low. 

That,  for  mean  vengeance  on  a  foe. 

Those  cords  of  love  I  should  unbind 

Which  knit  my  country  and  my  kind  ? 

0  no  !     Believe,  in  yonder  tower 

It  will  not  soothe  my  captive  hour. 

To  know  those  spears  our  foes  should  dread 

For  me  in  kindred  gore  are  red  : 

To  know,  in  fruitless  brawl  begun, 

For  me  that  mother  wails  her  son, 

For  me  that  widow's  mate  expires. 

For  me  that  orphans  weep  their  sires. 

That  patriots  mourn  insulted  laws. 

And  curse  the  Douglas  for  the  cause. 

0  let  your  patience  ward  such  ill. 

And  keep  your  right  to  love  me  still  I" 

XXIX. 

The  crowd's  wild  fury  sunk  again 
In  tears,  as  tempests  melt  in  rain. 
With  lifted  hands  and  eyes,  they  prayed 
For  blessings  on  his  generous  head 
Who  for  his  country  felt  alone, 
And  prized  her  blood  beyond  his  own. 
Old  men  upon  the  verge  of  life 
Blessed  him  who  -stayed  the  civil  strife ; 
And  mothers  held  their  babes  on  high. 
The  self-devoted  Chief  to  spy. 


]  THE   COMBAT.  153 

Triumphant  over  wrongs  and  ire. 

To  whom  the  prattlers  owed  a  sire. 

Even  the  rough  soldier^s  heart  was  moved  ; 

As  if  behind  some  bier  beloved^ 

With  trailing  arms  ^  and  drooping  head. 

The  Douglas  up  the  hill  he  led. 

And  at  the  Castle^s  battled  verge, 

With  sighs  resigned  his  honored  charge. 

XXX. 

The  offended  Monarch  rode  apart, 

With  bitter  thought  and  swelling  heart, 

And  would  not  now  vouchsafe  again 

Through  Stirling  streets  to  lead  his  train. 

"^  0  Lennox,  who  would  wish  to  rule 

This  changeling  "^  crowd,  this  common  fool  ? 

Hear^st  thou,''^  he  said,  ''  the  loud  acclaim 

With  which  they  shout  the  Douglas  name  ? 

With  like  acclaim  the  vulgar  throat 

Strained  for  King  James  their  morning  note  ; 

With  like  acclaim  they  hailed  the  day 

When  first  I  broke  the  Douglas  sway ; 

And  like  acclaim  would  Douglas  greet 

If  he  could  hurl  me  from  my  seat. 

Who  o^er  the  herd  would  wish  to  reign, 

Fantastic,  fickle,  fierce,  and  vain  ? 

Vain  as  the  leaf  upon  the  stream, 

And  fickle  as  a  changeful  dream  ; 

Fantastic  as  a  woman's  mood. 

And  fierce  as  Frenzy's  fevered  blood. 

Thou  many-headed  monster-thing, 

0  who  would  wish  to  be  thy  king  ? — 

XXXI. 

^'  But  soft  !  what  messenger  of  speed 
Spurs  hitherward  his  panting  steed  ? 

*  spears  carried,  in  a  horizontal  or  slightly  sloping  position.     2  changeful ;  unstable. 


154  THE    LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

I  guess  his  cognizance  ^  afar — 

What  from  our  cousin^  John  of  Mar  ?  " 

''  He  prays,  my  liege,  your  sports  keep  bound 

Within  the  safe  and  guarded  ground  ; 

For  some  foul  purpose  yet  unknown, — 

Most  sure  for  evil  to  the  throne, — 

The  outlawed  Chieftain,  Eoderick  Dhu, 

Has  summoned  his  rebellious  crew  ; 

"Tis  said,  in  James  of  BothwelFs  aid 

These  loose  banditti '■'  stand  arrayed. 

The  Earl  of  Mar  this  morn  from  Doune 

To  break  their  muster  marched,  and  soon 

Your  Grace  will  hear  of  battle  fought  ; 

But  earnestly  the  Earl  besought. 

Till  for  such  danger  he  provide. 

With  scanty  train  you  will  not  ride/^ 

XXXII. 

' '  Thou  warn'st  me  I  have  done  amiss, — 
I  should  have  earlier  looked  to  this  ; 
I  lost  it  in  this  bustling  day. — 
Retrace  with  speed  thy  former  way  ; 
Spare  not  for  spoiling  of  thy  steed. 
The  best  of  mine  shall  be  thy  meed. 
Say  to  our  faithful  Lord  of  Mar, 
We  do  forbid  the  intended  war  ; 
Roderick  this  morn  in  single  fight 
Was  made  our  prisoner  by  a  knight. 
And  Douglas  hath  himself  and  cause 
Submitted  to  our  kingdom^s  laws. 
The  tidings  of  their  leaders  lost 
Will  soon  dissolve  the  mountain  host, 
Nor  would  we  that  the  vulgar  ^  feel. 
For  their  Chief's  crimes,  avenging  steel. 

'  badge    by  which   an    armored    knight        2  robbers  ;  outlaws, 
could  be  recognized.  3  common  herd  of  people. 


v.]  THE   COMBAT.  166 

Bear  Mar  our  message,  Braco,  fly  !  '^ 
He  turned  his  steed^, — ^^My  liege,  I  hie. 
Yet  ere  I  cross  this  lily  lawn 
I  fear  the  broadswords  will  be  drawn." 
The  turf  the  flying  courser  spurned. 
And  to  his  towers  the  King  returned. 

XXXIII. 

Ill  with  King  James^'s  mood  that  day 

Suited  gay  feast  and  minstrel  lay  ; 

Soon  were  dismissed  the  courtly  throng. 

And  soon  cut  short  the  festal  song. 

Nor  less  upon  the  saddened  town 

The  evening  sunk  in  sorrow  down. 

The  burghers  spoke  of  civil  jar. 

Of  rumored  feuds  and  mountain  war. 

Of  Moray,  Mar,  and  Roderick  Dhu, 

All  up  in  arms  ; — the  Douglas  too, 

They  mourned  him  pent  within  the  hold, 

'^  Where  stout  Earl  William  was  of  old."' — 

And  there  his  word  the  speaker  stayed, 

And  finger  on  his  lip  he  laid. 

Or  pointed  to  his  dagger  blade. 

But  jaded  horsemen  from  the  west 

At  evening  to  the  Castle  pressed. 

And  busy  talkers  said  they  bore 

Tidings  of  fight  on  Katrine^'s  shore  ; 

At  noon  the  deadly  fray  begun. 

And  lasted  till  the  set  of  sun. 

Thus  giddy  rumor  shook  the  town, 

Till  closed  the  Night  her  pennons  brown. 


CANTO   SIXTH. 

THE    GUARD-EOOM. 

SUMMABT. 

The  next  day  opens  with  great  excitement  at  Stirling  Castle,  for  news  has  come  of  the 
battle  fought  between  Loch  Katrine  and  Loch  Achray.  Old  Bertram  of  Ghent  arrives, 
accompanied  by  a  minstrel  and  a  maid — Allan-bane  and  Ellen. 

The  latter  endures  many  indignities  from  the  boisterous  soldiers,  but  upon  showing  the 
knight's  signet-ring,  which  Fitz- James  had  given  her,  young  Lewis  of  Tullibardine— the 
officer  of  the  guard — leads  her  to  a  chamber,  where  she  receives  attention  from  a  maid 
and  obtains  needed  repose.  Allan-bane  desires  admission  to  his  master's  cell.  His  wish 
is  granted,  but  by  mistake  he  is  ushered  into  the  presence  of  Roderick  Dhu.  The  min- 
strel narrates  to  the  dying  chieftain  the  incidents  of  the  battle  of  Beal'  an  Duine  ;  but 
before  the  bard  concludes  the  chieftain  expires. 

Fitz-James,  of  whom  Ellen  had  sought  audience,  appears,  and  conducts  Ellen  to  court. 
She  observes  that  amid  the  gay  assemblage  he  alone  wears  cap  and  plume.  This  leads  to 
the  discovery  that  "  Snowdoun's  knight  is  Scotland's  king."  Another  discovery  she 
makes  is  that  her  father  has  been  reconciled  to  the  king.  Through  her  father,  she  asks 
pardon  for  her  lover,  Malcolm  Graeme,  who  kneels  before  the  king.  The  latter  dooms 
the  suppliant  to  happy  "fetters,"  and,  throwing  his  own  golden  chain  about  Malcolm's 
neck,  lays  the  clasp  in  Ellen's  hand. 

I. 

The  sun,  awakening,  through  the  smoky  air 

Of  the  dark  city  casts  a  sullen  glance. 
Rousing  each  caitiff  ^  to  his  task  of  care. 

Of  sinful  man  the  sad  inheritance  ;  ^ 
Summoning  revellers  from  the  lagging  dance. 

Scaring  the  prowling  robber  to  his  den  ; 
Gilding  on  battled  tower  the  warder^s  lance. 

And  warning  student  pale  to  leave  his  pen, 
And  yield  his  drowsy  eyes  to  the  kind  nurse  of  men.^ 

What  various  scenes,  and  0,  what  scenes  of  woe. 
Are  witnessed  by  that  red  and  struggling  beam  ! 

The  fevered  patient,  from  his  pallet  low. 

Through  crowded  hospital  beholds  it  stream ; 

1  miserable  wretch.  '  Grcn.  iii.  19.  ^  gieep. 


CANTO  VI.]  THE   GUARD-EOOM.  157 

The  ruined  maiden  trembles  at  its  gleam^ 

The  debtor  wakes  to  thought  of  gyve  *  and  jail, 

The  love-lorn  wretch  starts  from  tormenting  dream  ; 
The  wakeful  mother,  by  the  glimmering  pale, 

Trims  her  sick  infant's  couch,  and  soothes  his  feeble  wail. 

II. 

At  dawn  the  towers  of  Stirling  rang 

With  soldier-step  and  weapon-clang, 

While  drums  with  rolling  note  foretell 

Relief  to  weary  sentinel. 

Through  narrow  loop  "^  and  casement  ^  barred. 

The  sunbeams  sought  the  Court  of  Guard, 

And,  struggling  with  the  smoky  air. 

Deadened  the  torches'  yellow  glare. 

In  comfortless  alliance  shone 

The  lights  through  arch  of  blackened  stone. 

And  showed  wild  shapes  in  garb  of  war, 

Faces  deformed  with  beard  and  scar. 

All  haggard  from  the  midnight  watch. 

And  fevered  with  the  stern  debauch  ;  * 

For  the  oak  table's  massive  board. 

Flooded  with  wine,  with  fragments  stored. 

And  beakers  ^  drained,  and  cups  o'erthrown, 

Showed  in  what  sport  the  night  had  flown. 

Some,  weary,  snored  on  floor  and  bench  ; 

Some  labored  still  their  thirst  to  quench  ; 

Some,  chilled  with  watching,  spread  their  hands 

O'er  the  huge  chimney's  dying  brands. 

While  round  them,  or  beside  them  flung. 

At  every  step  their  harness  ^  rung. 

III. 

These  drew  not  for  their  fields  the  sword, 
Like  tenants  of  a  feudal  lord, 

*  (pron.  jiv)  iron  manacle  or  leg-fetter.      *  window.  ^  large  drinking-cups. 

8  loop-hole.  *  drinking  bout.      « armor. 


158  THE    LADY    OF   THE    LAKE.  [canto 

Nor  owned  the  patriarchal  claim 

Of  Chieftain  in  their  leader's  name ; 

Adventurers  ^  they,  from  far  who  roved. 

To  live  by  battle  which  they  loved. 

There  the  Italian^s  clouded  face, 

The  swarthy  Spaniard's  there  you  trace  ; 

The  mountain-loving  Switzer  "^  there 

More  freely  breathed  in  mountain-air  ; 

The  Fleming  ^  there  despised  the  soil 

That  paid  so  ill  the  laborer's  toil  ; 

Their  rolls  showed  French  and  German  name  : 

And  merry  England's  exiles  came. 

To  share,  with  ill-concealed  disdain, 

Of  Scotland's  pay  the  scanty  gain. 

All  brave  in  arms,  well  trained  to  wield 

The  heavy  halberd,*  brand,  and  shield  ; 

In  camps  licentious,^  wild,  and  bold  ; 

In  pillage  fierce  and  uncontrolled  ; 

And  now,  by  holytide  ®  and  feast. 

From  rules  of  discipline  released. 


IV. 

They  held  debate  of  bloody  fray. 
Fought  'twixt  Loch  Katrine  and  Achray. 
Fierce  was  their  speech,  and  'mid  their  words 
Their  hands  oft  grappled  to  their  swords  ; 
Nor  sunk  their  tone  to  spare  the  ear 
Of  wounded  comrades  groaning  near, 

1  here,    mercenary   or   hireling   soldiers,  of  mercenaries,  who  formed  a  body-guard, 
"  The  Scottish  armies  consisted  chiefly  of  called  the  Foot-Band." — Scott. 
the  nobility  and  barons,  with  their  yassals,  ^  an  inhabitant  of  Switzerland, 
who  held  lands  under  them,  for  military  ^  ^  citizen  of  Flanders,  now  part  of  Bel- 
service  by  themselves  and  their   tenants,  gium. 
James  V.  seems  first  to  have  introduced,  ^  a  long-handled  axe. 
in  addition  to  the  militia  furnished  from  ^  unrestrained. 
these  sources,  the  service  of  a  small  number  ^  holiday  ;  festal  season  (tide  means  time). 


VI.]  THE   GUARD-ROOM.  159 

Whose  mangled  limbs  and  bodies  gored 

Bore  token  of  the  mountain  sword, 

Though,  neighboring  to  the  Court  of  Guard, 

Their  prayers  and  feverish  wails  were  heard, — 

Sad  burden  to  the  ruffian  joke. 

And  savage  oath  by  fury  spoke  ! — 

At  length  up  started  John  of  Brent, 

A  yeoman  from  the  banks  of  Trent ; 

A  stranger  to  respect  or  fear. 

In  peace  a  chaser  of  the  deer. 

In  host  a  hardy  mutineer, 

But  still  the  boldest  of  the  crew 

When  deed  of  danger  was  to  do. 

He  grieved  that  day  their  games  cut  short, 

And  marred  the  dicer's  brawling  sport. 

And  shouted  loud,  "^  Renew  the  bowl  ! 

And,  while  a  merry  catch  ^  I  troll, ■^ 

Let  each  the  buxom  ^  chorus  bear. 

Like  brethren  of  the  brand  and  spear/' 

V. 

soldier's  song. 

Our  vicar  *  still  preaches  that  Peter  and  Poule  ^ 
Laid  a  swinging  long  curse  on  the  bonny  brown  bowl. 
That  there's  wrath  and  despair  in  the  jolly  black-jack," 
And  the  seven  deadly  sins  in  a  flagon  of  sack  ; '' 
Yet  whoop,  Barnaby  !  off  with  thy  liquor. 
Drink  upsees  out,'^  and  a  fig  for  the  vicar ! 

Our  vicar  he  calls  it  damnation  to  sip 
The  ripe  ruddy  dew  of  a  woman's  dear  lip, 

1  part-song,  or  glee.  s  Paul. 

^  sing  gayly.  ^  pitcher,  of  black  leather,  for  beer. 

3  brist: ;  lively.  ''  a  kind  of  wine. 

*  subordinate  clergyman.  ^  drain  to  the  bottom  of  the  tankard. 


160  THE   LADY    OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Says  that  Beelzebub  ^  lurks  in  her  kerchief  so  sly. 
And  Apollyon  ^  shoots  darts  from  her  merry  black. eye  ; 
Yet  whoop.  Jack  !  kiss  Gillian  the  quicker, 
Till  she  bloom  like  a  rose,  and  a  fig  for  the  vicar  ! 

Our  vicar  thus  preaches, — and  why  should  he  not  ? 
For  the  dues  of  his  cure  ^  are  the  placket  *  and  pot  ;  ^ 
And  ^tis  right  of  his  office  poor  laymen  to  lurch  ^ 
Who  infringe  the  domains  of  our  good  Mother  Church. 
Yet  whoop,  bully-boys  !  off  with  your  liquor. 
Sweet  Marjorie's  the  word,  and  a  fig  for  the  vicar  ! 

YI. 

The  warder^s  challenge,  heard  without. 

Stayed  in  mid-roar  the  merry  shout. 

A  soldier  to  the  portal  went, — 

''  Here  is  old  Bertram,  sirs,  of  Ghent ; 

And — beat  for  jubilee  the  drum  ! — 

A  maid  and  minstrel  with  him  come.^^ 

Bertram,  a  Fleming,  gray  and  scarred. 

Was  entering  now  the  Court  of  Guard, 

A  harper  with  him,  and,  in  plaid 

All  muffled  close,  a  mountain  maid. 

Who  backward  shrunk  to  'scape  the  view 

Of  the  loose  scene  and  boisterous  crew.     - 

''  What  news  ? ''  they  roared  : — "  I  only  know. 

From  noon  till  eve  we  fought  with  foe. 

As  wild  and  as  untamable 

As  the  rude  mountains  where  they  dwell ; 

On  both  sides  store  of  blood  is  lost, 

Nor  much  success  can  either  boast. ''^ — 

'^^  But  whence  thy  captives,  friend  ?  such  spoil 

As  theirs  must  needs  reward  thy  toil. 

*  prince  of  devils.  ■*  favor  of  the  ladies. 

2  name  of  destroying  angel  (see  Eev.  ix.        ^  tankard  of  ale. 
11).  6  lie  in  v^ait  for  (from  lurk). 

8  charge  or  parish  of  a  priest  (what  is  under  his  cai'e). 


VI.]  THE    GUARD-EOOM.  161 

Old  dost  thou  wax,  and  wars  grow  sharp  ; 
Thou  now  hast  glee-maiden  and  harp  ! 
Get  thee  an  ape,  and  trudge  the  land. 
The  leader  of  a  juggler  ^  band/^ 

VII. 

*^  No,  comrade  ; — no  such  fortune  mine. 

After  the  fight  these  sought  our  line. 

That  aged  harper  and  the  girl, 

And,  having  audience  of  the  Earl, 

Mar  bade  I  should  purvey  ^  them  steed. 

And  bring  them  hitherward  with  speed. 

Forbear  your  mirth  and  rude  alarm. 

For  none  shall  do  them  shame  or  harm."^— 

^'  Hear  ye  his  boast  ?^'  cried  John  of  Brent, 

Ever  to  strife  and  jangling  bent ; 

^^  Shall  he  strike  doe  beside  our  lodge. 

And  yet  the  jealous  niggard  grudge 

To  pay  the  forester  his  fee  ? 

V\\  have  my  share  howe'er  it  be. 

Despite  of  Moray,  Mar,  or  thee.^^  ^ 

Bertram  his  forward  step  withstood  ; 

And,  burning  in  his  vengeful  mood. 

Old  Allan,  though  unfit  for  strife. 

Laid  hand  upon  his  dagger-knife  ; 

But  Ellen  boldly  stepped  between. 

And  dropped  at  once  the  tartan  screen  : — 

So,  from  his  morning  cloud,  appears 

The  sun  of  May  through  summer  tears. 

The  savage  soldiery,  amazed, 

As  on  descended  angel  gazed ; 

Even  hardy  Brent,  abashed  and  tamed. 

Stood  half  admiring,  half  ashamed. 

1  jester.  2  provide. 

11 


162  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

VIII. 

Boldly  she  spoke  :  ^'  Soldiers,  attend  ! 

My  father  was  the  soldier^s  friend. 

Cheered  him  in  camps,  in  marches  led. 

And  with  him  in  the  battle  bled. 

Not  from  the  valiant  or  the  strong 

Should  exile's  daughter  suffer  wrong. "" 

Answered  De  Brent,  most  forward  still 

In  every  feat  of  good  or  ill  : 

'^  I  shame  me  of  the  part  I  played  ; 

And  thou  an  outlaw's  child,  poor  maid  ! 

An  outlaw  I  by  forest  laws. 

And  merry  ]N"eedwood  ^  knows  the  cause. 

Poor  Rose, — if  Rose  be  living  now,"^ — 

He  wiped  his  iron  eye  and  brow, — 

"  Must  bear  such  age,  I  think,  as  thou. — 

Hear  ye,  my  mates  !  I  go  to  call 

The  Captain  of  our  watch  to  hall : 

There  lies  my  halberd  on  the  floor  ; 

And  he  that  steps  my  halberd  o^er. 

To  do  the  maid  injurious  part. 

My  shaft  shall  quiver  in  his  heart  ! 

Beware  loose  speech,  or  jesting  rough  ; 

Ye  all  know  John  de  Brent.     Enough.'' 

IX. 

Their  Captain  came,  a  gallant  young, — 
Of  Tullibardine's  ^  house  he  sprung, — 
Nor  wore  he  yet  the  spurs  of  knight ; 
Gay  was  his  mien,  his  humor  light. 
And,  though  by  courtesy  controlled, 
Forward  his  speech,  his  bearing  bold. 

^  a  royal  forest  in  England. 

2  the  family  of  the  Murrays  of  Tullibardine.    Their  castle  is  near  Auchterarder,  in 
Perthshire. 


VI.]  THE   GUARD-ROOM.  163 

The  high-born  maiden  ill  could  brook 

The  scanning  of  his  curious  look 

And  dauntless  eye  : — and  yet^  in  sooth. 

Young  Lewis  was  a  generous  youth  ; 

But  Ellen^s  lovely  face  and  mien, 

111  suited  to  the  garb  and  scene. 

Might  lightly  bear  construction  strange. 

And  give  loose  fancy  scope  to  range. 

*^  Welcome  to  Stirling  towers,  fair  maid  ! 

Come  ye  to  seek  a  champion's  aid. 

On  palfrey  white,  with  harper  hoar. 

Like  errant  damosel  ^  of  yore  ? 

Does  thy  high  quest  a  knight  require. 

Or  may  the  venture  suit  a  squire  ?  " 

Her  dark  eye  flashed  ; — she  paused  and  sighed  : — 

"  0  what  have  I  to  do  with  pride  ! — 

Through  scenes  of  sorrow,  shame,  and  strife, 

A  suppliant  for  a  father's  life, 

I  crave  an  audience  of  the  King. 

Behold,  to  back  my  suit,  a  ring, 

The  royal  pledge  of  grateful  claims. 

Given  by  the  Monarch  to  Fitz-James.'^ 

X. 

The  signet  ring  young  Lewis  took 
With  deep  respect  and  altered  look. 
And  said  :  '^  This  ring  our  duties  own  ; 
And  pardon,  if  to  worth  unknown. 
In  semblance  mean  obscurely  veiled. 
Lady,  in  aught  my  folly  failed. 
Soon  as  the  day  flings  wide  his  gates. 
The  King  shall  know  what  suitor  waits. 
Please  ^  you  meanwhile  in  fitting  bower 
Eepose  you  till  his  waking  hour  ; 

*  wandering  maiden  (damsel).  ^  may  it  please  you  to  repose,  etc. 


164  THE    LADY    OF   THE   LAKE.  [cANTO 

Female  attendance  shall  obey 

Your  best,  for  service  or  array. 

Permit  ^  I  marshal  you  the  way." 

But,  ere  she  followed,  with  the  grace 

And  open  bounty  of  her  race. 

She  bade  her  slender  purse  be  shared 

Among  the  soldiers  of  the  guard. 

The  rest  with  thanks  their  guerdon  "^  took. 

But  Brent,  with  shy  and  awkward  look, 

On  the  reluctant  maiden's  hold 

Forced  bluntly  back  the  proffered  gold  : — 

^'  Forgive  a  haughty  English  heart, 

And  0,  forget  its  ruder  part ! 

The  vacant  purse  shall  be  my  share, 

Which  in  my  barret-cap  ^  I'll  bear. 

Perchance,  in  jeopardy  of  war. 

Where  gayer  crests  may  keep  afar.'' 

With  thanks — 'twas  all  she  could — the  maid 

His  rugged  courtesy  repaid. 

XI. 

When  Ellen  forth  with  Lewis  went, 
Allan  made  suit  to  John  of  Brent : — 
^^My  lady  safe,  0  let  your  grace 
Give  me  to  see  my  master's  face  ! 
His  minstrel  I, — to  share  his  doom. 
Bound  from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb. 
Tenth  in  descent,  since  first  my  sires 
Waked  for  his  noble  house  their  lyres. 
Nor  one  of  all  the  race  was  known 
But  prized  its  weal  above  their  own. 
With  the  Chief's  birth  begins  our  care  ; 
Our  harp  must  soothe  the  infant  heir, 
Teach  the  youth  tales  of  fight,  and  grace 
His  earliest  feat  of  field  and  chase  ; 

1  if  you  permit  me,  I  shall  marshal,  etc.       2  reward.       ^  a  priest's  flat  square  cap. 


VI.]  THE    GUARD-ROOM.  165 

In  peace,  in  war,  our  rank  We  keep, 
We  cheer  his  board,  we  soothe  his  sleep, 
Nor  leave  him  till  we  pour  our  verse — 
A  doleful  tribute  ! — o^er  his  hearse. 
Then  let  me  share  his  captive  lot ; 
It  is  my  right, — deny  it  not  ! '' 
"  Little  we  reck,^^  said  John  of  Brent, 
"  We  southern  men,  of  long  descent ; 
Nor  wot  we  how  a  name — a  word — 
Makes  clansmen  vassals  to  a  lord  : 
Yet  kind  my  noble  landlord's  part, — 
God  bless  the  house  of  Beaudesert ! 
And,  but  I  loved  to  drive  the  deer 
More  than  to  guide  the  laboring  steer, 
I  had  not  dwelt  an  outcast  here. 
Come,  good  old  Minstrel,  follow  me  ; 
Thy  Lord  and  Chieftain  shalt  thou  see." 

XII. 

Then,  from  a  rusted  iron  hook, 

A  bunch  of  ponderous  keys  he  took. 

Lighted  a  torch,  and  Allan  led 

Through  grated  arch  and  passage  dread. 

Portals  they  passed,  where,  deep  within. 

Spoke  prisoner's  moan  and  fetters'  din  ; 

Through  rugged  vaults,  where,  loosely  stored, 

Lay  wheel,  and  axe,  and  headsman's  sword. 

And  many  a  hideous  engine  grim. 

For  wrenching  joint  and  crushing  limb, 

By  artists  formed  who  deemed  it  shame 

And  sin  to  give  their  work  a  name. 

They  halted  at  a  low-browed  porch, 

And  Brent  to  Allan  gave  the  torch. 

While  bolt  and  chain  he  backward  rolled. 

And  made  the  bar  unhasp  its  hold. 


166  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

They  entered  : — ^twas  a  prison-room 

Of  stern  security  and  gloom. 

Yet  not  a  dungeon  ;  for  tlie  day 

Through  lofty  gratings  found  its  way. 

And  rude  and  antique  garniture  ^ 

Decked  the  sad  walls  and  oaken  floor. 

Such  as  the  rugged  days  of  old 

Deemed  fit  for  captive  noble's  hold. 

^^  Here,^'  said  De  Brent,  "  thou  mayst  remain 

Till  the  Leech  ^  visit  him  again. 

Strict  is  his  charge,  the  warders  tell. 

To  tend  the  noble  prisoner  well." 

Eetiring  then  the  bolt  he  drew. 

And  the  lock^s  murmurs  growled  anew. 

Roused  at  the  sound,  from  lowly  bed 

A  captive  feebly  raised  his  head  ; 

The  wondering  Minstrel  looked,  and  knew — 

lN"ot  his  dear  lord,  but  Roderick  Dhu  ! 

For,  come  from  where  Clan- Alpine  fought. 

They,  erring,  deemed  the  Chief  he  sought. 

XIII. 

As  the  tall  ship,  whose  lofty  prore  ' 
Shall  never  stem  the  billows  more. 
Deserted  by  her  gallant  band. 
Amid  the  breakers  lies  astrand,* — 
So  on  his  couch  lay  Roderick  Dim  ! 
And  oft  his  fevered  limbs  he  threw 
In  toss  abrupt,  as  when  her  sides 
Lie  rocking  in  the  advancing  tides. 
That  shake  her  frame  with  ceaseless  beat, 
Yet  cannot  heave  her  from  her  seat ; — 
0,  how  unlike  her  course  at  sea  ! 
Or  his  free  step  on  hill  and  lea  ! — 

>  decorations  and  furnishings.  ^  prow  or  stem. 

"  physician.  *  on  the  shore  (stranded). 


VI.]  THE   GUAKD-ROOM.  167 

Soon  as  the  Minstrel  he  could  scan, — 

"  What  of  thy  lady  ? — of  my  clan  ? — 

My  mother  ? — Douglas  ? — tell  me  all  ! 

Have  they  been  ruined  in  my  fall  ? 

Ah,  yes  !  or  wherefore  art  thou  here  ? 

Yet  speak, — speak  boldly, — do  not  fear." — 

For  Allan,  who  his  mood  well  knew. 

Was  choked  with  grief  and  terror  too.  — 

"  Who  fought  ? — who  fled  ? — Old  man,  be  brief  ; — 

Some  might, — for  they  had  lost  their  Chief. 

Who  basely  live  ? — who  bravely  died  ?  " 

''  0,  calm  thee.  Chief  \"  the  Minstrel  cried, 

"  Ellen  is  safe  ! "     ''  For  that  thank  Heaven  !  " 

"  And  hopes  are  for  the  Douglas  given  ; — 

The  Lady  Margaret,  too,  is  well ; 

And,  for  thy  clan, — on  field  or  fell. 

Has  never  harp  of  minstrel  told 

Of  combat  fought  so  true  and  bold. 

Thy  stately  Pine  is  yet  unbent. 

Though  many  a  goodly  bough  is  rent.^* 

XIV. 

The  Chieftain  reared  his  form  on  high. 
And  fever^s  fire  was  in  his  eye  ; 
But  ghastly,  pale,  and  livid  streaks 
Checkered  his  swarthy  brow  and  cheeks. 
''  Hark,  Minstrel  !  I  have  heard  thee  play. 
With  measure  bold  on  festal  day. 
In  yon  lone  isle, — again  where  ne^er 
Shall  harper  play  or  warrior  hear  ! — 
That  stirring  air  that  peals  on  high. 
O'er  Dermid's  race  our  victory. — 
Strike  it  ! — and  then, — for  well  thou  canst, — 
Free  from  thy  minstrel-spirit  glanced. 


168  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Fling  me  the  picture  of  the  fight, 

When  met  my  clan  the  Saxon  might. 

ril  listen,  till  my  fancy  hears 

The  clang  of  swords,  the  crash  of  spears  I 

These  grates,  these  walls,  shall  vanish  then 

For  the  fair  field  of  fighting  men. 

And  my  free  spirit  burst  away, 

As  if  it  soared  from  battle  fray." 

The  trembling  Bard  with  awe  obeyed, — 

Slow  on  the  harp  his  hand  he  laid  ; 

But  soon  remembrance  of  the  sight 

He  witnessed  from  the  mountain's  height, 

With  what  old  Bertram  told  at  night. 

Awakened  the  full  power  of  song. 

And  bore  him  in  career  along  ; — 

As  shallop  launched  on  river's  tide. 

That  slow  and  fearful  leaves  the  side. 

But,  when  it  feels  the  middle  stream. 

Drives  downward  swift  as  lightning's  beam. 

XY. 

BATTLE    OF   BEAL'    AN    DUINE.' 

"  The  Minstrel  came  once  more  to  view 
The  eastern  ridge  of  Benvenue, 
For  ere  he  parted  he  would  say 
Farewell  to  lovely  Loch  Achray — 
Where  shall  he  find,  in  foreign  land. 
So  lone  a  lake,  so  sweet  a  strand  ! — 
There  is  no  breeze  upon  the  fern, 

'No  ripple  on  the  lake. 
Upon  her  eyry  ^  nods  the  erne,^ 

The  deer  has  sought  the  brake  ; 
The  small  birds  will  not  sing  aloud. 

The  springing  trout  lies  still, 

1  a  skirmish  actually  took  place  at  a  pass  thus  called  in  the  Trosachs,  but  at  a  much 
later  date.  2  eagle's  nest.  ^  eagle. 


VI.]  THE   GUARD-ROOM.  ,  169 

So  darkly  glooms  yon  thunder- cloud, 
That  swathes^  as  with  a  purple  shroud, 

Benledi^s  distant  hill. 
Is  it  the  thunder's  solemn  sound 

That  mutters  deep  and  dread^ 
Or  echoes  from  the  groaning  ground 

The  warrior's  measured  tread  ? 
Is  it  the  lightning's  quivering  glance 

That  on  the  thicket  streams. 
Or  do  they  flash  on  spear  and  lance 

The  sun's  retiring  beams  ? — 
I  see  the  dagger-crest  of  Mar, 
I  see  the  Moray's  silver  star. 
Wave  o'er  the  cloud  of  Saxon  war. 
That  up  the  lake  comes  winding  far ! 
To  hero  bound  for  battle-strife, 

Or  bard  of  martial  lay, 
■'Twere  worth  ten  years  of  peaceful  life. 

One  glance  at  their  array  ! 

XVI. 

''Their  light-armed  archers  far  and  near 

Surveyed  the  tangled  ground. 
Their  centre  ranks,  with  pike  and  spear, 

A  twilight  forest  frowned. 
Their  barded  ^  horsemen  in  the  rear 

The  stern  battalia  ^  crowned. 
No  cymbal  clashed,  no  clarion  rang, 

Still  were  the  pipe  and  drum  ; 
Save  heavy  tread,  and  armor's  claug. 

The  sullen  march  was  dumb. 
There  breathed  no  wind  their  crests  to  shake, 

Or  wave  their  flags  abroad  ; 

1  applies  to  the  horses,  not  to  the  horse-        2  an  army  in  battle  array  ;  order  of  bat- 
men (from  French  barde,  armor  for  a  horse),     tie. 


170  THE  LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

Scarce  tlie  frail  aspen  seemed  to  quake. 

That  shadowed  o'er  their  road. 
Their  vaward  ^  scouts  no  tidings  bring, 

Can  rouse  no  lurking  foe. 
Nor  spy  a  trace  of  living  thing. 

Save  when  they  stirred  the  roe  ; 
The  host  moves  like  a  deep-sea  wave. 
Where  rise  no  rocks  its  pride  to  brave. 
High-swelling,  dark,  and  slow. 
The  lake  is  passed,  and  now  they  gain 
A  narrow  and  a  broken  plain. 
Before  the  Trosachs^  rugged  jaws  ; 
And  here  the  horse  and  spearmen  pause. 
While,  to  explore  the  dangerous  glen. 
Dive  through  the  pass  the  archer-men. 

XVII. 

"  At  once  there  rose  so  wild  a  yell 
Within  that  dark  and  narrow  dell. 
As  all  the  fiends  from  heaven  that  fell 
Had  pealed  the  banner-cry  of  hell ! 
Forth  from  the  pass  in  tumult  driven, 
Like  chaff  before  the  wind  of  heaven. 

The  archery  appear  : 
For  life  !  for  life  !  their  flight  they  ply — 
And  shriek,  and  shout,  and  battle-cry. 
And  plaids  and  bonnets  waving  high. 
And  broadswords  flashing  to  the  sky. 

Are  maddening  in  the  rear. 
Onward  they  drive  in  dreadful  race, 

Pursuers  and  pursued  ; 
Before  that  tide  of  flight  and  chase. 
How  shall  it  keep  its  rooted  place, 
The  spearmen^s  twilight  wood  ? — 

1  (for  vanward)  the  vanguard,  or  front  of  an  army. 


VI.]  THE  GUARD-ROOM.  171 

^  Down,  down/  cried  Mar,  '  your  lances  down  ! 

Bear  back  both  friend  and  foe  !  ^ — 
Like  reeds  before  the  tempest^s  frown, 
That  serried  '  grove  of  lances  brown 

At  once  lay  levelled  low  ; 
And  closely  shouldering  side  to  side. 
The  bristling  ranks  the  onset  bide. — 
*  We'll  quell  the  savage  mountaineer, 

As  their  Tinchel  ^  cows  ^  the  game  I 
They  come  as  fleet  as  forest  deer, 

We'll  drive  them  back  as  tame.' 

xyiii. 

'^  Bearing  before  them  in  their  course 
The  relics  of  the  archer  force. 
Like  wave  with  crest  of  sparkling  foam. 
Right  onward  did  Clan-Alpine  come. 

Above  the  tide,  each  broadsword  bright 

Was  brandishing  like  beam  of  light. 
Each  targe  was  dark  below  ; 

And  with  the  ocean's  mighty  swing. 

When  heaving  to  the  tempest's  wing. 
They  hurled  them  on  the  foe. 
I  heard  the  lance's  shivering  crash. 
As  when  the  whirlwind  rends  the  ash ; 
I  heard  the  broadsword's  deadly  clang. 
As  if  a  hundred  anvils  rang  ! 
And  Moray  wheeled  his  rearward  rank 
Of  horsemen  on  Clan-Alpine's  flank, — 
'  My  banner-man,  advance  ! 

I  see,'  he  cried,  '  their  column  shake. 

Now,  gallants  !  for  your  ladies'  sake, 
Upon  them  with  the  lance  ! ' — 

*  compacted  ;  closely  packed.  rowing,  brought  immense  quantities  of  deer 

2  circle  within  which  game  was  narrowed  together,  which    usually    made    desperate 

and  shot.    "  A  circle  of  sportsmen,  by  sur-  efforts  to  break  through  the    Tinchel.''''— 

rounding  a  great  space,  and  gradually  nar-  Scott.       3  subdues  or  depresses  with  fear. 


172  THE   LADY   OF  THE   LAKE.  [canto 

The  horsemen  dashed  among  the  rout. 

As  deer  break  through  the  broom  ; 
Their  steeds  are  stout,  their  swords  are  out. 

They  soon  make  lightsome  room. 
Clan-Alpine's  best  are  backward  borne — 

Where,  where  was  Roderick  then  ! 
One  blast  upon  his  bugle-horn 

Were  worth  a  thousand  men. 
And  refluent  ^  through  the  pass  of  fear 

The  battlers  tide  was  poured. 
Vanished  the  Saxon's  struggling  spear. 

Vanished  the  mountain-sword. 
As  Bracklinn's  chasm,  so  black  and  steep, 

Eeceives  her  roaring  linn. 
As  the  dark  caverns  of  the  deep 

Suck  the  wild  whirlpool  in. 
So  did  the  deep  and  darksome  pass 
Devour  the  battlers  mingled  mass  ; 
None  linger  now  upon  the  plain, 
Save  those  who  ne'er  shall  fight  again, 

XIX. 

"  Now  westward  rolls  the  battlers  din. 
That  deep  and  doubling  pass  within. — 
Minstrel,  away  !  the  work  of  fate 
Is  bearing  on  ;  its  issue  wait. 
Where  the  rude  Trosachs'  dread  defile 
Opens  on  Katrine's  lake  and  isle. 
Gray  Benvenue  I  soon  repassed. 
Loch  Katrine  lay  beneath  me  cast. 

The  sun  is  set ; — the  clouds  are  met. 
The  lowering  scowl  of  heaven 

An  inky  hue  of  livid  blue 
To  the  deep  lake  has  given  ; 

1  flowing  back  ;  retreating. 


VI.]  THE   GUARD-ROOM.  173 

Strange  gusts  of  wind  from  mountain  glen 
Swept  o^er  the  lake^  then  sunk  again.  , 
I  heeded  not  the  eddying  surge, 
Mine  eye  but  saw  the  Trosachs^  goi'ge^ 
Mine  ear  but  heard  that  sullen  sounds 
Which  like  an  earthquake  shook  the  ground, 
And  spoke  the  stern  and  desperate  strife 
That  parts  not  but  with  parting  life^ 
Seeming,  to  minstrel  ear,  to  toll 
The  dirge  of  many  a  passing  soul. 

Nearer  it  comes — the  dim-wood  glen 

The  martial  flood  disgorged  again. 
But  not  in  mingled  tide  ; 

The  plaid ed  warriors  of  the  North 

High  on  the  mountain  thunder  forth 
And  overhang  its  side. 

While  by  the  lake  below  appears 

The  darkening  cloud  of  Saxon  spears. 

At  weary  bay  each  shattered  band, 

Eying  their  foemen,  sternly  stand ; 

Their  banners  stream  like  tattered  sail. 

That  flings  its  fragments  to  the  gale. 

And  broken  arms  and  disarray 

Marked  the  fell  havoc  of  the  day. 

XX. 

^'  Viewing  the  mountain's  ridge  askance. 
The  Saxons  stood  in  sullen  trance. 
Till  Moray  pointed  with  his  lance, 
.  And  cried  :  '  Behold  yon  isle  ! — 
See  !  none  are  left  to  guard  its  strand 
But  women  weak,  that  wring  the  hand  : 
'Tis  there  of  yore  the  robber  band 
Their  booty  wont  to  pile  ; — 


174  THE    LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [CANTO 

My  purse^  with  bonnet-pieces  ^  store. 
To  him  will  swim  a  bow-shot  o'er. 
And  loose  a  shallop  from  the  shore. 
Lightly  we^ll  tame  the  war-wolf  then. 
Lords  of  his  mate,  and  brood,  and  den."* 
Forth  from  the  ranks  a  spearman  sprung. 
On  earth  his  casque  ^  and  corselet  ^  rung, 

He  plunged  him  in  the  wave  : — 
All  saw  the  deed, — the  purpose  knew. 
And  to  their  clamors  Benvenue 

A  mingled  echo  gave  ; 
The  Saxons  shout,  their  mate  to  cheer. 
The  helpless  females  scream  for  fear. 
And  yells  for  rage  the  mountaineer. 
^Twas  then,  as  by  the  outcry  riven. 
Poured  down  at  once  the  lowering  heaven  : 
A  whirlwind  swept  Loch  Katrine's  breast. 
Her  billows  reared  their  snowy  crest. 
Well  for  the  swimmer  swelled  they  high. 
To  mar  the  Highland  marksman's  eye ; 
For  round  him  showered,  mid  rain  and  hail, 
The  vengeful  arrows  of  the  Gael. 
In  vain. — He  nears  the  isle — and  lo  ! 
His  hand  is  on  a  shallop's  bow. 
Just  then  a  flash  of  lightning  came, 
It  tinged  the  waves  and  strand  with  flame  ; 
I  marked  Duncraggan's  widowed  dame. 
Behind  an  oak  I  saw  her  stand, 
A  naked  dirk  gleamed  in  her  hand  : — 
It  darkened, — but  amid  the  moan 
Of  waves  I  heard  a  dying  groan  ; — 

1  gold  coins  bearing  the  head  of  James  V.,  ^  helmet ;  a  piece  of  armor  for  protecting 

wearing  a  bonnet ;  "  a  gold  coin  on  which  the  head  and  neck  in  battle, 

the  king's    head  was   represented  with   a  ^  a  piece  of  armor  for  protecting  the  front 

bonnet  instead  of  a  crown,  coined  by  the  of  the  body. 
'  Commons'  King.'  "—Taylor. 


VI,]  THE   GUAKD-EOOM.  175 

Another  flash  ! — the  spearman  floats 
A  weltering  corse  beside  the  boats. 
And  the  stern  matron  o^er  him  stood. 
Her  hand  and  dagger  streaming  blood. 


XXI. 


'' '  Eevenge  !  revenge  ! '  the  Saxons  cried. 

The  Gaels^  exulting  shout  replied. 

Despite  the  elemental  rage. 

Again  they  hurried  to  engage  ; 

But,  ere  they  closed  in  desperate  fight. 

Bloody  with  spurring  came  a  knight. 

Sprung  from  his  horse,  and  from  a  crag 

Waved  "twixt  the  hosts  a  milk-white  flag. 

Clarion  and  trumpet  by  his  side 

Eung  forth  a  truce-note  high  and  wide, 

While,  in  the  Monarches  name,  afar 

A  herald^s  voice  forbade  the  war. 

For  BothwelFs  lord  and  Koderick  bold 

Were  both,  he  said,  in  captive  hold."^' — • 

But  here  the  lay  made  sudden  stand. 

The  harp  escaped  the  Minstrel's  hand  ! 

Oft  had  he  stolen  a  glance,  to  spy 

How  Eoderick  brooked  his  minstrelsy  : 

At  first,  the  Chieftain,  to  the  chime. 

With  lifted  hand  kept  feeble  time  ; 

That  motion  ceased, — yet  feeling  strong 

Varied  his  look  as  changed  the  song  ; 

At  length,  no  more  his  deafened  ear 

The  minstrel  melody  can  hear  ; 

His  face  grows  sharp, — his  hands  are  clenched, 

As  if  some  pang  his  heart-strings  wrenched  ; 

Set  are  his  teeth,  his  fading  eye 

Is  sternly  fixed  on  vacancy  ; 


176  THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  [cAi^TO 

Thus,  motionless  and  moanless,  drew 
His  parting  breath  stout  Koderick  Dhu  ! — 
Old  Allan-bane  looked  on  aghast, 
■     While  grim  and  still  his  spirit  passed  ; 
But  when  he  saw  that  life  was  fled. 
He  poured  his  wailing  o^er  the  dead. 

XXII. 
LAMENT. 

^^  And  art  thou  cold  and  lowly  laid. 
Thy  foeman^s  dread,  thy  people^s  aid, 
Breadalbane^s  boast,  Olan-Alpine^s  shade  ! 
For  thee  shall  none  a  requiem  ^  say  ? 
For  thee,  who  loved  the  minstrels  lay. 
For  thee,  of  BothwelFs  house  the  stay. 
The  shelter  of  her  exiled  line. 
E'en  in  this  prison-house  of  thine, 
ril  wail  for  Alpine^s  honored  Pine  ! 

''  What  groans  shall  yonder  valleys  fill  ! 
What  shrieks  of  grief  shall  rend  yon  hill  I 
What  tears  of  burning  rage  shall  thrill. 
When  mourns  thy  tribe  thy  battles  done. 
Thy  fall  before  the  race  was  won. 
Thy  sword  ungirt  ere  set  of  sun  ! 
There  breathes  not  clansman  of  thy  line. 
But  would  have  given  his  life  for  thine. 
0,  woe  for  Alpine's  honored  Pine  ! 

"  Sad  was  thy  lot  on  mortal  stage  ! — 
The  captive  thrush  may  brook  the  cage. 
The  prisoned  eagle  dies  for  rage. 
Brave  spirit,  do  not  scorn  my  strain  ! 
And,  when  its  notes' awake  again. 
Even  she,  so  long  beloved  in  vain, 

1  musical  service  for  the  repose  of  the  soul. 


VI.]  THE    GUARD-ROOM.  177 

« 

Shall  with  my  harp  her  voice  combine, 

And  mix  her  woe  and  tears  with  mine. 

To  wail  Olan-Alpine^s  honored  Pine." 

XXIII. 

Ellen  the  while,  with  bursting  heart. 

Remained  in  lordly  bower  apart. 

Where  played,  with  many-colored  gleams, 

Through  storied  pane  ^  the  rising  beams. 

In  vain  on  gilded  roof  they  fall. 

And  lightened  up  a  tapestried  wall, 

And  for  her  use  a  menial  train 

A  rich  collation  ^  spread  in  vain. 

The  banquet  proud,  the  chamber  gay. 

Scarce  draw  one  curious  glance  astray  ; 

Or  if  she  looked,  ^twas  but  to  say. 

With  better  omen  dawned  the  day 

In  that  lone  isle,  where  waved  on  high 

The  dun-deer's  hide  for  canopy  ; 

Where  oft  her  noble  father  shared 

The  simple  meal  her  care  prepared, 

While  Lufra,  crouching  by  her  side. 

Her  station  claimed  with  jealous  pride. 

And  Douglas,  bent  on  woodland  game, 

Spoke  of  the  chase  to  Malcolm  Graeme, 

Whose  answer,  oft  at  random  made. 

The  wandering  of  his  thoughts  betrayed. 

Those  who  such  simple  joys  have  known 

Are  taught  to  prize  them  when  they're  gone. 

But  sudden,  see,  she  lifts  her  head. 

The  window  seeks  with  cautious  tread. 

What  distant  music  has  the  power 

To  win  her  in  this  woful  hour  ? 

'Twas  from  a  turret  that  o'erhung 

Her  latticed  bower,  the  strain  was  sung. 

1  window  adorned  with  liistorical  paintings.  2  a  lunch,  or  light  repast. 

12 


178  THE  LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

XXIV. 
LAY  OF   THE   IMPRISONED   HUNTSMAN. 

'^^My  hawk  is  tired  of  perch  and  hood, 
My  idle  greyhound  loathes  his  food. 
My  horse  is  weary  of  his  stall, 
And  I  am  sick  of  captive  thrall. 
I  wish  I  were  as  I  have  been. 
Hunting  the  hart  in  forest  green, 
With  bended  bow  and  bloodhound  free. 
For  that^s  the  life  is  meet  for  me. 
I  hate  to  learn  the  ebb  of  time 
From  yon  dull  Steeplers  drowsy  chime. 
Or  mark  it  as  the  sunbeams  crawl. 
Inch  after  inch,  along  the  wall. 
The  lark  was  wont  my  matins  ring. 
The  sable  rook  my  vespers  sing  ; 
These  towers,  although  a  king^s  they  be. 
Have  not  a  hall  of  joy  for  me. 
"No  more  at  dawning  morn  I  rise. 
And  sun  myself  in  Ellen's  eyes. 
Drive  the  fleet  deer  the  forest  through. 
And  homeward  wend  with  evening  dew ; 
A  blithesome  welcome  blithely  meet. 
And  lay  my  trophies  at  her  feet, 
While  fled  the  eve  on  wing  of  glee, — 
That  life  is  lost  to  love  and  me  !  '^ 

XXV. 

The  heart-sick  lay  was  hardly  said. 
The  listener  had  not  turned  her  head. 
It  trickled  still,  the  starting  tear, 
•     When  light  a  footstep  struck  her  ear. 

And  Snowdoun's  graceful  Knight  was  near. 
She  turned  the  hastier,  lest  again 
The  prisoner  should  renew  his  strain. 


VI.]  THE   GUARD-ROOM.  179 

^*  0  welcome,  brave  Fitz-James  V'  she  said  ; 

"  How  may  an  almost  orphan  maid 

Pay  the  deep  debt — ''     ''  0  say  not  so! 

To  me  no  gratitude  you  owe. 

Not  mine,  alas  !  the  boon  to  give. 

And  bid  thy  noble  father  live ; 

I  can  but  be  thy  guide,  sweet  maid. 

With  Scotland's  King  thy  suit  to  aid. 

No  tyrant  he,  though  ire  and  pride 

May  lay  his  better  mood  aside. 

Come,  Ellen,  come  !  ^tis  more  than  time. 

He  holds  his  court  at  morning  prime. ^^  ^ 

With  beating  heart,  and  bosom  wrung. 

As  to  a  brother's  arm  she  clung. 

Gently  he  dried  the  falling  tear. 

And  gently  whispered  hope  and  cheer  ; 

Her  faltering  steps  half  led,  half  stayed. 

Through  gallery  fair  and  high  arcade,^ 

Till  at  his  touch  its  wings  of  pride 

A  portal  arch  unfolded  wide. 

XXVI. 

Within  'twas  brilliant  all  and  light, 
A  thronging  scene  of  figures  bright ; 
It  glowed  on  Ellen's  dazzled  sight. 
As  when  the  setting  sun  has  given 
Ten  thousand  hues  to  summer  even. 
And  from  their  tissue  fancy  frames 
Aerial  ^  knights  and  fairy  dames. 
Still  by  Fitz-James  her  footing  stayed  ; 
A  few  faint  steps  she  forward  made. 
Then  slow  her  drooping  head  she  raised. 
And  fearful  round  the  presence  *  gazed  ; 

1  dawn  ;  early  day.  3  (of  the  air)  spectraL 

^  a  series  of  arches  supported  by  columns.        *  presence-chamber. 


180  THE   LADY    OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto 

For  him  she  sought  who  owned  this  state. 

The  dreaded  Prince  whose  will  was  fate  ! — 

She  gazed  on  many  a  princely  port ' 

Might  well  have  ruled  a  royal  court ; 

On  many  a  splendid  garb  she  gazed, — 

Then  turned  bewildered  and  amazed. 

For  all  stood  bare ;  and  in  the  room 

Fitz-James  alone  wore  cap  and  plume. 

To  him  each  lady^s  look  was  lent, 

On  him  each  courtier^s  eye  was  bent ; 

Midst  furs  and  silks  and  jewels  sheen. 

He  stood,  in  simple  Lincoln  green. 

The  centre  of  the  glittering  ring, — 

And  Snowdoun^s  Knight  is  Scotland's  King ! 

XXVII. 

As  wreath  of  snow  on  mountain-breast 

Slides  from  the  rock  that  gave  it  rest. 

Poor  Ellen  glided  from  her  stay. 

And  at  the  Monarch's  feet  she  lay  ; 

No  word,  her  choking  voice  commands, — 

She  showed  the  ring, — she  clasped  her  hands. 

0,  not  a  moment  could  he  brook. 

The  generous  Prince,  that  suppliant  look  ! 

Gently  he  raised  her, — and,  the  while. 

Checked  with  a  glance  the  circle's  smile  ; 

Graceful,  but  grave,  her  brow  he  kissed. 

And  bade  her  terrors  be  dismissed  : — 

"  Yes,  fair  ;  the  wandering  poor  Fitz-James 

The  fealty  ^  of  Scotland  claims. 

To  him  thy  woes,  thy  wishes,  bring  ; 

He  will  redeem  his  signet  ring. 

Ask  naught  for  Douglas  ; — yester  even. 

His  prince  and  he  have  much  forgiven  ; 

1  carriage  of  the  body.  2  loyalty  to  a  superior  person  or  power. 


VI.]  THE   G-UAKD-ROOM.  181 

Wrong  hath  he  had  from  slanderous  tongue, 

I,  from  his  rebel  kinsmen,  wrong. 

We  would  not  to  the  vulgar  crowd. 

Yield  what  they  craved  with  clamor  loud  ; 

Calmly  we  heard  and  judged  his  cause. 

Our  council  aided  and  our  laws. 

I  stanched  thy  father^s  death-feud  stern 

With  stout  De  Vaux  and  gray  Glencairn  ; 

And  BothwelPs  Lord  henceforth  we  own 

The  friend  and  bulwark  of  our  throne. — 

But,  lovely  infidel,  how  now  ? 

What  clouds  thy  misbelieving  brow  ? 

Lord  James  of  Douglas,  lend  thine  aid  ; 

Thou  must  confirni  this  doubting  maid." 

XXVIH. 

Then  forth  the  noble  Douglas  sprung. 
And  on  his  neck  his  daughter  hung. 
The  monarch  drank,  that  happy  hour. 
The  sweetest,  holiest  draught  of  Power, — 
When  it  can  say  with  godlike  voice, 
Arise,  sad  Virtue,  and  rejoice  ! 
Yet  would  not  James  the  general  eye 
On  nature's  raptures  '  long  should  pry  ; 
He  stepped  between — '^Nay,  Douglas,  nay, 
Steal  not  my  proselyte  ^  away  ! 
The  riddle  'tis  my  right  to  read, 
That  brought  this  happy  chance  to  speed. ^ 
Yes,  Ellen,  when  disguised  I  stray 
In  life's  more  low  but  happier  way, 
^Tis  under  name  which  veils  my  power, 
Nor  falsely  veils, — for  Stirling's  tower 
Of  yore  the  name  of  Snowdoun  claims. 
And  Normans  call  me  James  Fitz-James. 

1  i.e.,  James  would  not  have  the  eye  of  the  crowd  gaze  long  on  the  natural  joy  felt 
by  the  daughter  at  the  safety  of  her  father.  «  convert.  3  to  a  successful  issue. 


182  THE    LADY    OF   THE   LAKE.  [cANTO 

Thus  watch  I  o'er  insulted  laws. 

Thus  learn  to  right  the  injured  cause." 

Then,  in  a  tone  apart  and  low, — 

''  Ah,  little  traitress  !  none  must  know 

What  idle  dream,  what  lighter  thought. 

What  yanity  full  dearly  bought. 

Joined  to  thine  eye's  dark  witchcraft,  drew 

My  spell-bound  steps  to  Benvenue 

In  dangerous  hour,  and  all  but  gave 

Thy  Monarch's  life  to  mountain  glaive  ! " 

Aloud  he  spoke  :  ''  Thou  still  dost  hold 

That  little  talisman '  of  gold. 

Pledge  of  my  faith,  Fitz-James's  ring, — 

What  seeks  fair  Ellen  of  the  King  ?  " 

XXIX. 

Full  well  the  conscious  maiden  guessed. 

He  probed  the  weakness  of  her  breast ; 

But  with  that  consciousness  there  came 

A  lightening  of  her  fears  for  Graeme, 

And  more  she  deemed  the  Monarch's  ire 

Kindled  'gainst  him  who  for  her  sire 

Eebellious  broadsword  boldly  drew  ; 

And,  to  her  generous  feeling  true. 

She  craved  the  grace  of  Eoderick  Dhu. 

"  Forbear  thy  suit  ; — the  King  of  kings 

Alone  can  stay  life's  parting  wings. 

I  know  his  heart,  I  know  his  hand. 

Have  shared  his  cheer,  and  proved  his  brand  ; — 

My  fairest  earldom  would  I  give 

To  bid  Clan- Alpine's  Chieftain  live  ! — 

Hast  thou  no  other  boon  to  crave  ? 

No  other  captive  friend  to  save  ?  " 

Blushing,  she  turned  her  from  the  King, 

And  to  the  Douglas  gave  the  ring, 

1  magical  charm. 


VI.]  THE   GUARD-ROOM.  183 

As  if  she  wished  her  sire  to  speak 
The.  suit  that  stained  ^  her  glowing  cheek. 
''  Nay,  then,  my  pledge  has  lost  its  force. 
And  stubborn  justice  holds  her  course. 
Malcolm,  come  forth  !  '^ — and,  at  the  word, 
Down  kneeled  the  Graeme  to  Scotland's  Lord. 
"  For  thee,  rash  youth,  no  suppliant  sues. 
From  thee  may  Vengeance  claim  her  dues. 
Who  nurtured  underneath  our  smile. 
Hast  paid  our  care  by  treacherous  wile,^ 
And  sought  amid  thy  faithful  clan 
A  refuge  for  an  outlawed  man, 
Dishonoring  thus  thy  loyal  name. — 
Fetters  and  warder  for  the  Grseme  ! " 
His  chain  of  gold  the  King  unstrung, 
The  links  o'er  Malcolm's  neck  he  flung. 
Then  gently  drew  the  glittering  band. 
And  laid  the  clasp  on  Ellen's  hand. 


Harp  of  the  North,  farewell  !     The  hills  grow  dark. 

On  purple  peaks  a  deeper  shade  descending  ; 
In  twilight  copsQ  the  glow-worm  lights  her  spark. 

The  deer,  half  seen,  are  to  the  covert  wending. 
Eesume  thy  wizard  elm  !  the  fountain  lending. 

And  the  wild  breeze,  thy  wilder  minstrelsy  ; 
Thy  numbers  sweet  with  nature's  vespers  ^  blending, 

"With  distant  echo  from  the  fold  and  lea. 
And  herd-boy's  evening  pipe,  and  hum  of  housing  bee. 

Yet,  once  again,  farewell,  thou  Minstrel  Harp  ! 

Yet,  once  again,  forgive  my  feeble  sway. 
And  little  reck  I  of  the  censure  sharp 

May  idly  cavil  *  at  an  idle  lay. 

1  flushed.  2  trick  or  stratagem.  *  (supply  that)  that  may  idly  cavil  ;  find 

3  the  lulling  evening  breeze.  fault  without  cause. 


184  THE   LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [canto  vi. 

Much  have  I  owed  thy  strains  on  lifers  long  way^ 
Through  secret  woes  the  world  has  never  known. 

When  on  the  weary  night  dawned  wearier  day, 
And  bitterer  was  the  grief  devoured  alone. — 

That  I  overlive  such  woes.  Enchantress  !  is  thine  own. 

Hark  !  as  my  lingering  footsteps  slow  retire. 

Some  Spirit  of  the  Air  has  waked  thy  string  ! 
'Tis  now  a  seraph  '  bold,  with  touch  of  fire, 

^Tis  now  the  brush  of  Fairy^s  frolic  wing. 
Eeceding  now  the  dying  numbers  ring 

Fainter  and  fainter  down  the  rugged  dell ; 
And  now  the  mountain  breezes  scarcely  bring 

A  wandering  witch-note  ^  of  the  distant  spell — 
And  now,  ^tis  silent  all  ! — Enchantress,  fare  thee  well ! 

1  an  angel  of  the  highest  order.  a  a  note  of  music  with  a  witching  spell. 


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