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the same, charged with an anchor between 2 lions' heads erazed, or,-Gale.

2d. Or, 2 bars gemelles gules, and a chief or,-Richmond.

3d. Or, a fess chequey, or and gules between 9 gerbes gules,-Vaux of Caterlen.

4th. Gules, a fess chequey, or and gules between 6 gerbes or,-Vaux of Torcrossock.

5th. 'Argent, a bend chequey, or and gules, for Vaux of Triermain.

6th. Gules, a cross-patonce, or,-Delamore.

CANTO II.

Note 1. Stanza x.

From Arthur's hand the goblet flow.

The author has an indistinct recollection of an adventure somewhat similar to that which is here ascribed to King Arthur, having befallen one of the ancient kings of Denmark. The horn in which the burning

7th. Gules, 6 lions rampant argent, 3, 2, and 1,— liquor was presented to that monarch, is said still to Leybourne. 2

Note 3. Stanza vi.

And his who sleeps at Dunmailraise. Dunmailraise is one of the grand passes from Cumberland into Westmoreland. It takes its name from a cairn, or pile of stones, erected, it is said, to the memory of Dunmail, the last king of Cumberland.

Note 4. Stanza vii.

Penrith's Table Round.

A circular entrenchment, about half a mile from Penrith, is thus popularly termed, The circle within the ditch is about one hundred and sixty paces in circumference, with openings, or approaches, directly opposite to each other. As the ditch is on the inner side, it could not be intended for the purpose of defence, and it has reasonably been conjectured, that the inclosure was designed for the solemn exercise of feats of chivalry; and the embankment around for the convenience of the spectators.

Note 5. Stanza vii.

-Mayburgh's mound and stones of power. Higher up the river Eamont than Arthur's Round Table, is a prodigious inclosure of great antiquity, formed by a collection of stones upon the top of a gently-sloping hill, called Mayburgh. In the plain which it incloses there stands erect an unhewn stone of twelve feet in height. Two similar masses are said to have been destroyed during the memory of man. The whole appears to be a monument of druidical times.

Note 6. Stanza x.

Though never sun-beam could discern
The surface of that sable tarn.

The small lake called Scales-tarn lies so deeply embosomed in the recesses of the huge mountain called Saddleback, more poetically Glaramara, is of such great depth, and so completely hidden from the sun, that it is said its beams never reach it, and that the reflection of the stars may be seen at mid-day.

Note 7. Stanza xvii.

-Tintadgel's spear.

Tintadgel Castle, in Cornwall, is reported to have been the birth-place of King Arthur.

Note 8. Stanza xvii. -Caliburn in cumbrous length. This was the name of King Arthur's well-known sword, sometimes also called Excalibar.

'Not vert, as stated by Burn.

This more detailed genealogy of the family of Trierinain was obligingly sent to the author by Major Braddyll of Cornishead Priory.

be preserved in the Royal Museum at Copenhagen.
Note 2. Stanza x.

Nor tower nor donjon could he spy,
Darkening against the morning sky.

--- We now gained a view of the Vale of Saint John, a very narrow dell, hemmed in by mountains, through which a small brook makes many meanderings, washing little inclosures of grass-ground, which stretch up the rising of the hills. In the widest part of the dale you are struck with the appearance of an ancient ruined castle, which seems to stand upon the summit of a little mount, the mountains around forming an amphitheatre. This massive bulwark shows a front of various towers, and makes an awful, rude, and Gothic appearance, with its lofty turrets and ragged battlements; we traced the galleries, the bending arches, the buttresses. The greatest antiquity stands characterized in its architecture; the inhabitants near it assert it is an antediluvian structure.

« The traveller's curiosity is roused, and he prepares to make a nearer approach, when that curiosity is put upon the rack by his being assured, that if he advances, certain genii who govern the place, by virtue of their supernatural art and necromancy, will strip it of all its beauties, and, by enchantment, transform the magic walls. The vale seems adapted for the habitation of such beings; its gloomy recesses and retirements look like haunts of evil spirits. There was no delusion in the report; we were soon convinced of its truth; for this piece of antiquity, so venerable and noble in its aspect, as we drew near, changed its figure, and proved no other than a shaken massive pile of rocks, which stand in the midst of this little vale, disunited from the adjoining mountains, and have so much the real form and resemblance of a castle, that they bear the name of the Castle Rocks of St John.»-HUTCHINSON'S Excursion to the Lakes, p. 121.

Note 3. Stanza xi.

The Saxons to subjection brought. Arthur is said to have defeated the Saxons in twelve pitched battles, and to have achieved the other feats alluded to in the text.

Note 4. Stanza xiii.

There Morolt of the iron mace, etc.

The characters named in the following stanza are all of them, more or less, distinguished in the romances which treat of King Arthur and his Round Table, and their names are strung together according to the esta blished custom of minstrels upon such occasions; for example, in the ballad of the marriage of Sir Gawaine:

Sir Lancelot, Sir Stephen bolde,

They rode with them that daye,
And, foremost of the companye,
There rode the stewarde Kaye.
Soe did Sir Banier and Sir Bore,
And eke Sir Garratte keen,
Sir Tristram too, that gentle knight,
To the forest fresh and green.

Note 5. Stanza xiii.
And Lancelot, that evermore
Look'd stol'n-wise on the queen.

Upon this delicate subject hear Richard Robinson, citizen of London, in his Assertion of King Arthur:

<«< But as it is a thing sufficiently apparent that she (Guenever, wife of King Arthur) was beautiful, so it is a thing doubted whether she was chaste, yea or no. Truly, so far as I can with honestie, I would spare the impayred honour and fame of noble women. But yet the truth of the historie pluckes me by the eere, and willeth me not onely, but commandeth me to declare what the ancients have deemed of her. To wrestle or contend with so great authoritie were indeed unto me a controversie, and that greate »-Assertion of King Arthure. Imprinted by John Wolfe, London, 1582. Note 6. Stanza xviii.

There were two who loved their neighbours' wives,

And one who loved his own.

standyng poole, covered and overflowed all England, fewe books were read in our tongue, savyng certaine bookes of chevalrie, as they said, for pastime and pleasure; which, as some say, were made in the monasteries, by idle monks or wanton chanons. As one for example, La morte d'Arthure; the whole pleasure of which book standeth in two speciall poynts, in open manslaughter and bold bawdrye; in which booke they be counted the noblest knightes that do kill most men without any quarrell, and commit fowlest adoulteries by sutlest shiftes; as Sir Launcelot, with the wife of King Arthur, his master; Sir Tristram, with the wife of King Marke, his uncle; Sir Lamerocke, with the wife of King Lote, that was his own aunt. This is good stuffe for wise men to laugh at, or honest men to take pleasure at, yet I know when God's Bible was banished the court, and La Morte d'Arthure received into the prince's chamber.»-ASCHAM'S Schoolmaster.

Note 7. Stanza xviii.

valiant Carodac, Who won the cup of gold.

See the comic tale of the Boy and the Mantle, in the third volume of Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry, from the Breton or Norman original of which Ariosto is supposed to have taken his tale of the Enchanted

<< In our forefathers' tyme, when papistrie, as a Cup.

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AND TO THE COMMITTEE OF SUBSCRIBERS FOR RELIEF OF THE PORTUGUESE SUFFERERS,
IN WHICH HE PRESIDES,

This Poem,

COMPOSED FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE FUND UNDER THEIR MANAGEMENT,
IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,

BY WALTER SCOTT,

PREFACE.

change of
scene, into THREE PERIODS. The FIRST of
these represents the Invasion of the Moors, the Defeat
and Death of Roderick, and closes with the peaceful

THE following poem is founded upon a Spanish tradi-occupation of the country by the victors. The SECOND tion, particularly detailed in the Notes; but bearing, in general, that Don Roderick, the last Gothic King of Spain, when the invasion of the Moors was impending, had the temerity to descend into an ancient vault, near Toledo, the opening of which had been denounced as fatal to the Spanish monarchy. The legend adds, that his rash curiosity was mortified by an emblematical representation of those Saracens, who, in the year 714, defeated him in battle, and reduced Spain under their dominion. I have presumed to prolong the Vision of the Revolutions of Spain down to the present eventful crisis of the Peninsula; and to divide it, by a supposed

PERIOD embraces the state of the Peninsula, when the conquests of the Spaniards and Portuguese in the East and West Indies had raised to the highest pitch the renown of their arms; sullied, however, by superstition and cruelty. An allusion to the inhumanities of the Inquisition terminates this picture. The LAST PART of the poem opens with the state of Spain previous to the unparalleled treachery of BONAPARTE; gives a sketch of the usurpation attempted upon that unsuspicious and friendly kingdom, and terminates with the arrival of the British succours. It may be farther proper to mention, that the object of the poem is less to commemo

rate or detail particular incidents, than to exhibit a general and impressive picture of the several periods brought upon the stage.

I am too sensible of the respect due to the Public, especially by one who has already experienced more than ordinary indulgence, to offer any apology for the inferiority of the poetry to the subject it is chiefly designed to commemorate. Yet I think it proper to mention, that while I was hastily executing a work, written for a temporary purpose, and on passing events, the task was cruelly interrupted by the successive deaths of Lord President BLAIR, and Lord Viscount Melville. In those distinguished characters, I had not only to regret persons whose lives were most important to Scotland, but also whose notice and patronage honoured my entrance upon active life; and I may add, with melancholy pride, who permitted my more advanced age to claim no common share in their friendship. Under such interruptions, the following verses, which my best and happiest efforts must have left far unworthy of their theme, have, I am myself sensible, an appearance of negligence and incoherence, which, in other circumstances, I might have been able to remove.

Edinburgh, June 24, 1811.

INTRODUCTION.

I.

LIVES there a strain, whose sounds of mountain fire
May rise distinguish'd o'er the din of war,
Or died it with yon Master of the Lyre,
Who sung beleaguer'd Ilion's evil star?
Such, WELLINGTON, might reach thee from afar,
Wafting its descant wide o'er ocean's range;
Nor shouts, nor clashing arms, its mood could mar,
All as it swell'd 'twixt each loud trumpet-change,
That clangs to Britain victory, to Portugal revenge!

II.

Yes! such a strain, with all o'er-powering measure,
Might melodize with each tumultuous sound,
Each voice of fear or triumph, woe or pleasure,
That rings Mondego's ravaged shores around;
The thund'ring cry of hosts with conquest crown'd,
The female shriek, the ruin'd peasant's moan,
The shout of captives from their chains unbound,
The foil'd oppressor's deep and sullen groan,
A nation's choral hymn for tyranny o'erthrown.

III.

But we, weak minstrels of a laggard day,
Skill'd but to imitate an elder page,

Timid and raptureless, can we repay

The debt thou claim'st in this exhausted age? Thou givest our lyres a theme, that might engage Those that could send thy name o'er sea and land, While sea and land shall last; for Homer's rage

A theme; a theme for Milton's mighty handHow much unmeet for us, a faint degenerate band!

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X.

« Explore those regions, where the flinty crest
Of wild Nevada ever gleams with snows,
Where in the proud Alhambra's ruin'd breast
Barbaric monuments of pomp repose;
Or where the banners of more ruthless foes

Than the fierce Moor, float o'er Toledo's fane,
From whose tall towers even now the patriot throws
An anxious glance, to spy upon the plain
The blended ranks of England, Portugal, and Spain.

XI.

«There, of Numantian fire a swarthy spark
Still lightens in the sun-burnt native's eye;
The stately port, slow step, and visage dark,
Still mark enduring pride and constancy.
And, if the glow of feudal chivalry

Beam not, as once, thy nobles' dearest pride, Iberia! oft thy crestless peasantry

Have seen the plumed Hidalgo quit their side,

III.

But of their monarch's person keeping ward,
Since last the deep-mouth'd bel! of vespers toll'd,
The chosen soldiers of the royal guard

Their post beneath the proud cathedral hold;
A band unlike their Gothic sires of old,

Who, for the cap of steel and iron mace, Bear slender darts, and casques bedeck'd with gold, While silver-studded belts their shoulders grace, Where ivory quivers ring in the broad falchion's place. IV.

In the light language of an idle court,

They murmur'd at their master's long delay, And held his lengthen'd orisons in sport :

« What! will Don Roderick here till morning stay, To wear in shrift and prayer the night away? And are his hours in such dull penance past, For fair Florinda's plunder'd charms to pay?»—(5) Then to the east their weary eyes they cast,

Have seen, yet dauntless stood-gainst fortune fought | And wish'd the lingering dawn would glimmer forth at

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Full on the prelate's face, and silver hair,

The stream of failing light was feebly roll'd; But Roderick's visage, though his head was bare, Was shadow'd by his hand and mantle's fold. While of his hidden soul the sins he told, Proud Alaric's descendant could not brook,

VISION OF DON RODERICK. That mortal man his bearing should behold,

I.

REARING their crests amid the cloudless skies,
And darkly clustering in the pale moon-light,
Toledo's holy towers and spires arise,

As from a trembling lake of silver white.
Their mingled shadows intercept the sight

Of the broad burial-ground outstretch'd below,
And nought disturbs the silence of the night;
All sleeps in sullen shade, or silver glow,
All save the heavy swell of Teio's ceaseless flow.
II.

All save the rushing swell of Teio's tide,

Or distant heard, a courser's neigh or tramp, Their changing rounds as watchful horsemen ride, To guard the limits of King Roderick's camp. For, through the river's night-fog rolling damp, Was many a proud pavilion dimly seen, Which glimmer'd back, against the moon's fair lamp, Tissues of silk and silver-twisted sheen,

And standards proudly pitch'd, and warders arm'd be

tween.

Or boast that he had seen, when conscience shook, Fear tame a monarch's brow, remorse a warrior's look.

VII.

The old man's faded cheek wax'd yet more pale,
As many a secret sad the king bewray'd;
And sign and glance eked out the unfinish'd tale,
When in the midst his faltering whisper staid.—

<«< Thus royal Witiza1 was slain,»-he said;
"C Yet, holy father, deem not it was I.»-
Thus still ambition strives her crime to shade-
«Oh rather deem 't was stern necessity!
Self-preservation bade, and I must kill or die.

VIII.

<< And if Florinda's shrieks alarm'd the air,
If she invoked her absent sire in vain,
And on her knees implored that I would spare,
Yet, reverend priest, thy sentence rash refrain !—
All is not as it seems-the female train

Know by their bearing to disguise their mood:-->> But conscience here, as if in high disdain,

Sent to the monarch's cheek the burning bloodHe stay'd his speech abrupt-and up the prelate stood.

The predecessor of Roderick upon the Spanish throne, and slain by his connivance, as is affirmed by Rodriguez of Toledo, the father of Spanish history.

IX.

«O harden'd offspring of an iron race!

What of thy crimes, Don Roderick, shall I say? What alms, or prayers, or penance can efface

Murder's dark spot, wash treason's stain away!
For the foul ravisher how shall I pray,

Who, scarce repentant, makes his crime his boast?
How hope Almighty vengeance shall delay,
Unless, in mercy to yon christian host,

XV.

Fix'd was the right-hand giant's brazen look
Upon his brother's glass of shifting sand,
As if its ebb he measured by a book,

Whose iron volume loaded his huge hand;
In which was wrote of many a falling land,
Of empires lost, and kings to exile driven,
And o'er that pair their names in scroll expand-
« Lo, Destiny and Time! to whom by Heaven

He spare the shepherd, lest the guiltless sheep be The guidance of the earth is for a season given.»>lost ?»

X.

Then kindled the dark tyrant in his mood,

And to his brow return'd its dauntless gloom;

« And welcome then,» he cried, « be blood for blood,
For treason treachery, for dishonour doom!

Yet will I know whence come they, or by whom.
Show, for thou canst-give forth the fated key,
And guide me, priest, to that mysterious room,
Where, if aught true in old tradition be,

XVI.

E'en while they read, the sand-glass wastes away;
And, as the last and lagging grains did creep,
That right-hand giant 'gan his club upsway,
As one that startles from a heavy sleep.
Full on the upper wall the mace's sweep

At once descended with the force of thunder,
And hurling down at once, in crumbled heap,
The marble boundary was rent asunder,
—(6) | And gave to Roderick's view new sights of fear and

His nation's future fate a Spanish king shall see.»-(
XI.

« Ill-fated prince! recal the desperate word,
Or pause ere yet the omen thou obey!
Bethink yon spell-bound portal would afford
Never to former monarch entrance-way;
Nor shall it ever ope, old records say,

Save to a king, the last of all his line,

What time his empire totters to decay,

And treason digs, beneath, her fatal mine,

And, high above, impends avenging wrath divine.»>—

XII.

<< Prelate! a monarch's fate brooks no delay; Lead on the ponderous key the old man took, And held the winking lamp, and led the way,

By winding stair, dark aisle, and secret nook, Then on an ancient gate-way bent his look; And, as the key the desperate king essay'd, Low-mutter'd thunders the cathedral shook,

And twice he stopp'd, and twice new effort made, Till the huge bolts roll'd back, and the loud hinges bray'd.

XIII.

Long, large, and lofty, was that vaulted hall;

Roof, walls, and floor, were all of marble stone, Of polish'd marble, black as funeral pall,

Carved o'er with signs and characters unknown. A paly light, as of the dawning, shone

Through the sad bounds, but whence they could not

spy;

For window to the upper air was none;

Yet by that light, Don Roderick could descry Wonders that ne'er till then were seen by mortal eye. XIV.

Grim sentinels, against the upper wall,

Of molten bronze, two statues held their place; Massive their naked limbs, their stature tall,

Their frowning foreheads golden circles grace. Moulded they seem'd for kings of giant race,

That lived and sinn'd before the avenging flood; This grasp'd a scythe, that rested on a mace;

This spreads his wings for flight, that pondering stood,

Each stubborn seem'd and stern, immutable of mood.

wonder.

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