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, whate'er it be,
As ransom of his pledge to me."
He placed the golden circlet on,

Paused-kiss'd her hand-and then was gone.
The aged Minstrel stood aghast,
So hastily Fitz-James shot past.

He join'd 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 Trosach's glen was still,
Noontide was sleeping on the hill;
Sudden his guide whoop'd loud and high—
"Murdoch was that a signal cry?"—
He stammer'd forth-"I shout to scare'
Yon raven from his dainty fare."
He look'd-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 Trosach's 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 tatter'd weeds and wild array,*
Stood on a cliff beside the way,
And glancing round her restless eye,
Upon the wood, the rock, the sky,
Seem'd naught to mark, yet all to spy.
Her brow was wreath'd with gaudy broom;
With gesture wild she waved a plume.
Of feathers, which the eagles fling

MS." Permit this hand-the ring is thine."
MS.-"Seek thou the King, and on thy knee
Put forth thy suit, whate'er it be,
As ransom of his pledge to me:

Such spoils her desperate step had sought,
Where scarce was footing for the goat.
The tartan plaid she first descried,
And shriek'd till all the rocks replied;
As loud she laugh'd 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-
She sung!-the voice, in better time,
Perchance to harp or lute might chime;
And now, though strain'd and roughen'd, still
Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill.

"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 Devan," Murdoch said,
"A crazed and captive Lowland maid,
Ta'en on the morn she was a bride,
When Roderick foray'd Devan-side.
The gay bridegroom resistance made,
And felt our Chief's unconquer'd blade.

I marvel she is now at large,

But oft she 'scapes from Maudlin's charge.Hence, brain-sick fool!"-He raised his bow:"Now, if thou strik'st her but one blow,

Yon raven from his dainty fare.'"
MS.-"Wrapp'd in a tatter'd mantle gray."

The Allan and Devan are two beautiful streams, the latter celebrated in the poetry of Burns, which descend from the hills of Perthshire into the great carse or plain of Stirling.

I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far

As ever peasant pitch'd a bar!"

Thanks, champion, thanks!" the Maniac cried, And press'd 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 staid,
Wave forth a banner fair and free,
Meet signal for their revelry."-

'It was a stag, a stag of ten,
Bearing its branches sturdily;
MS.-"With thee these pennons will I share,

Then seek my true love through the air.'
MS.-"But I'll not lend that savage groom,

To break his fall, one downy plume!
Deep, deep 'mid yon disjointed stones,
The wolf shall batten on his bones."

MS.-"Sweet William was a woodman true,
He stole poor Blanche's heart away!
His coat was of the forest hue,

And sweet he sung the Lowland lay."

4 Hav g ten branches on his antlers.

5. No machinery can be conceived more clumsy for effecting the deli rance of a distressed hero, than the introduction of a nad wan, who, without knowing or caring about the wanlerer, arns him by a song, to take care of the ambush that

He came stately down the glen, Ever sing hardily, hardily.

"It was there he met with a wounded doe, She was bleeding deathfully;

She warn'd him of the toils below,

O, 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."

XXVI.

Fitz-James's mind was passion-toss'd,
When Ellen'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 thrill'd 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 couch'd upon the heathery moor:
Them couldst thou reach !-it may not
be-

Thine ambush'd 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 fall'n, with falcon eye,

He grimly smiled to see him die;

was set for him. The maniacs of poetry have indeed had a prescriptive right to be musical, since the days of Ophens downwards; but it is rather a rash extension of this privilege to make them sing good sense, and to make sensible people oe guided by them."-JEFFREY.

MS.-"Forth at full speed the Clansman went;
But in his race his bow he bent,
Halted-and back an arrow sent."

Then slower wended back his way, Where the poor maiden bleeding lay.

XXVII.

She sate beneath the birchen-tree,
Her elbow resting on her knee;

She had withdrawn the fatal shaft,
And gazed on it, and feebly laugh'd;
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.

61

"This hour of death has given me more

Of reason's power than years before;

For, as these ebbing veins decay,
My phrensied 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-O! still I've worn
This little tress of yellow hair,
Through danger, phrensy, and despair!
It once was bright and clear as thine,

But blood and tears have dimm'd its shine.
I will not tell thee when 'twas shred,
Nor 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.-O God! more bright
Let reason beam her parting light!-
O! by thy knighthood's honor'd sign,
And for thy life preserved by mine,
When thou shalt see a darksome man,
Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's Clan,
With tartan's 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... O God!... farewell."

XXVIII.

A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James;
Fast pour'd his eyes at pity's claims,
And now with mingled grief and ire,
He saw the murder'd maid expire.
"God, in my need, be my relief,3
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:

MS. A guiltless injured wretch I die."

MS." But now, my champion,-it shall wave."

3 MS.-"God, in my need, to me be true,

"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 Roderick Dhu!
-But hark! what means yon faint hallo!
The chase is up,-but they shall know,
The stag at bay 's a dangerous foe."
Barr'd from the known but guarded way,
Through copse and cliffs Fitz-James must s
And oft must change his desperate track,
By stream and precipice turn'd back.
Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length,
From lack of food and loss of strength,
He couch'd him in a thicket hoar,
And thought his toils and perils o'er :-
"Of all my rash adventures past,
This frantic freak must prove the last!
Who e'er so mad but might have guess'd, ⚫
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,
Temper'd the midnight mountain air,
But every breeze, that swept the wold,
Benumb'd his drenched limbs with cold.
In dread, in danger, and alone,
Famish'd and chill'd, through ways unknown
Tangled and steep, he journey'd on;
Till, as a rock's huge point he turn'd,
A watch-fire close before him burn'd.

XXX.

Beside its embers red and clear,'
Bask'd, in his plaid, a mountaineer;
And up
he sprung with sword in hand-

"Thy name and purpose! Saxon, stand!".

As I wreak this on Roderick Dhu "

4 MS.-"By the decaying flame was laid A warrior in his Highland plaid.'

“A stranger."—" What dost thou require ?”— "Rest and a guide, and food and fire. My life's beset, my path is lost,

The gale has chill'd my limbs with frost.". "Art thou a friend to Roderick ?"-"No.""Thou darest 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 reck'd, where, how, or when, The prowling fox was trapp'd or slain ?2 Thus treacherous scouts,-yet sure they lie, Who say thou camest 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,

Thou 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."

XXXI.

He gave him of his Highland cheer,
The harden'd flesh of mountain deer;3
Dry fuel on the fire he laid,

And bade the Saxon share his plaid.
He tended him like welcome guest,
Then thus his farther speech address'd.
"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 honor's 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,

MS.-"I dare! to him and al' the arm

He brings to aid his merdere an arm."

1 See Appendix, Note 3 F.

See Appendix, Note 3 G.

Till past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard,
As far as Coilantogle's ford;

From thence thy warrant is thy sword."-
"I take thy courtesy, by heaven,
As freely as 'tis nobly given !"—
"Well, rest thee; for the bittern's cry
Sings us the lake's wild lullaby."
With that he shook the gather'd heath,
And spread his plaid upon 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

The Lady of the Lake

CANTO FIFTH.

The Combat I.

FAIR as the earliest beam of eastern light,
When first, by the bewilder'd 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,

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 hazy screen,
When, rousing at its glimmer red,
The warriors left their lowly bed,
Look'd out upon the dappled sky,
Mutter'd 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 the rich scenes beneath,
The windings of the Forth and Teith,

4 MS." And slept until the dawning streak
Purpled the mountain and the lake."
MS." And lights the fearful way along its side."
The Scottish Highlander calls himself Gael, or Gau., and

terms the Lowlanders, Sassenach, or Saxons.

And all the vales beneath that lie,
Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky;
Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance
Gain'd 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.

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;
An 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 torrents down had borne,
And heap'd upon the cumber'd 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 ask'd Fitz-James, by what strange cause

He sought these wilds? traversed by few,
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu.

"Yet why a second venture try?"—
"A warrior thou, and ask me why!-
Moves our free course by such fix'd 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 stray'd,
The merry glance of mountain maid:
Or, if a path be dangerous known,
The danger's self is lure alone."-

V.

"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 loth
Their silken folds should feast the moth.
Free be they flung!-as free shall wave
Clan-Alpine's pine in banner brave.
But, Stranger, peaceful since you came,
Bewilder'd in the mountain game,
Whence the bold boast by which you show
Vich-Alpine's vow'd and mortal foe?"-
"Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew
Naught of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu,
Save as an outlaw'd desperate man,
The chief of a rebellious clan,
Who, in the Regent's court and sight,
With ruffian dagger stabb'd a knight:
Yet this alone might from his part
Sever each true and loyal heart."