VI.

"Brother of Lorn," with hurried voice

He said, "And you, fair lords, rejoice!

Here, to augment our glee,

Come wandering knights from travel far, Well proved, they say, in strife of war,

And tempest on the sea.

Ho! give them at your board such place As best their presences may grace,

And bid them welcome free !"

With solemn step, and silver wand,
The Seneschal the presence scann'd

Of these strange guests; and well he knew

How to assign their rank its due;

For, though the costly furs

That erst had deck'd their caps were torn,

And their

gay robes were over-worn,

And soiled their gilded spurs,

Yet such a high commanding grace

Was in their mien and in their face,

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,

That gave to guests unnamed, unknown,

A place so near their prince's throne;

But Owen Erraught said,

"For forty years a seneschal,

To marshal guests in bower and hall

Has been my honour'd trade.

Worship and birth to me are known,

By look, by bearing, and by tone,

Not by furr'd robe or broider'd zone;

And 'gainst an oaken bough

I'll gage my silver wand of state,

That these three strangers oft have sate

In higher place than now."

D

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,

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
Degrees of mortal rank and state

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

Lour'd on the haughty front of Lorn.

From underneath his brows of pride,

The stranger guests he sternly eyed,
And whisper'd closely what the ear
Of Argentine alone might hear;

Then question'd, high and brief,
If, in their voyage, aught they knew
Of the rebellious Scottish crew,

Who to Rath-Erin's shelter drew,

With Carrick's out-law'd Chief?

And if, their winter's exile o'er,

They harbour'd still by Ulster's shore,
Or launch'd their galleys on the main,
To vex their native land again?

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; But if of Royal Bruce thou'dst know,

I warn thee he has sworn,

Ere thrice three days shall come and go,
His banner Scottish winds shall blow,
Despite each mean or mighty foe,

From England's every bill and bow,

To Allaster of Lorn."

Kindled the mountain Chieftain's ire,
But Ronald quench'd the rising fire;
"Brother, it better suits the time

To chase the night with Ferrand's rhyme,
Than wake, 'midst mirth and wine, the jars
That flow from these unhappy wars.”—
"Content," said Lorn; and spoke apart

With Ferrand, master of his art,