As suited best the princely dais, And royal canopy; And there he marshall'd them their place, First of that company. VII. Then lords and ladies spake aside, And angry looks the error chide, "For forty years a seneschal, To marshal guests in bower and hall Not by furr'd robe or broider'd zone ; I'll 'gage my silver wand of state, That these three strangers oft have sate In higher place than now." VIII. "I, too," the aged Ferrand said, "Am qualified by minstrel trade Of rank and place to tell ; Mark'd ye the younger stranger's eye, My mates, how quick, how keen, how high, How fierce its flashes fell, Glancing among the noble rout As if to seek the noblest out, Because the owner might not brook On any save his peers to look ? And yet it moves me more, That steady, calm, majestic brow, With which the elder chief even now Scann'd the gay presence o'er, Like Being of superior kind, In whose high-toned impartial mind Seem objects of indifferent weight. The lady too-though closely tied The mantle veil both face and eye, Her motions' grace it could not hide, Nor could her form's fair symmetry.”— IX. Suspicious doubt and lordly scorn Then question'd, high and brief, Who to Rath-Erin's shelter drew, And if, their winter's exile o'er, X. That younger stranger, fierce and high, At once confronts the Chieftain's eye With look of equal scorn ;— "Of rebels have we nought to show; Ere thrice three days shall come and go, Kindled the mountain Chieftain's ire, To chase the night with Ferrand's rhyme, With Ferrand, master of his art, Then whisper'd Argentine, "The lay I named will carry smart To these bold strangers' haughty heart, If right this guess of mine." He ceased, and it was silence all, XI. The Broach of Lorn. "Whence the broach of burning gold, On the varied tartans beaming, As, through night's pale rain-bow gleaming, Fainter now, now seen afar, Fitful shines the northern star? "Gem! ne'er wrought on Highland mountain, Did the fairy of the fountain, |