« 前へ次へ »
And these brief words have import dear,
When sounded in a noble ear,
To harbour safe, and friendly cheer,
That gives us rightful claim.
Grant us the trivial boon we seek,
And we in other realms will speak
Fair of your courtesy ;
Deny—and be your niggard Hold
Scorn'd by the noble and the bold,
Shunn'd by the pilgrim on the wold,
And wanderer on the lea!”
XXVII. “ Bold stranger, nom'gainst claim like thine, No bolt revolves by hand of mine, Though urged in tone that more express'd A monarch than a suppliant guest. Be what ye will, Artornish Hall On this glad eve is free to all.
Though ye had drawn a hostiłe sword
'Gainst our ally, great England's Lord,
Or mail upon your shoulders borne,
To battle with the Lord of Lorn,
Or, outlaw'd, dwelt by greenwood tree
With the fierce Knight of Ellerslie,
Or aided even the murderous strife,
When Comyn fell beneath the knife
Of that fell homicide The Bruce,
This night had been a term of truce.
Ho, vassals ! give these guests your care,
And shew the narrow postern stair.”—
To land these two bold brethren leapt,
(The weary crew their vessel kept)
And, lighted by the torches' flare,
That seaward flung their smoky glare,
The younger knight that maiden bare
Half lifeless up the rock;
On his strong shoulder lean’d her head, And down her long dark tresses shed, As the wild vine, in tendrils spread,
Droops from the mountain oak, Him follow'd close that elder Lord, And in his hand a sheathed sword,
Such as few arms could wield; But when he boun'd him to such task, Well could it cleave the strongest casque,
And rend the surest shield.
The raised portcullis' arch they pass,
The wicket with its bars of brass,
The entrance long and low,
Flank'd at each turn by loop-holes strait,
Where bowmen might in ambush wait,
(If force or fraud should burst the gate,).
To gall an entering foe.
But every jealous post of ward
Was now defenceless and unbarrd, .
And all the passage free
To one low-browd and vaulted room,
Where squire' and yeoman, page and groom,
Plied their loud revelry.
And “ Rest ye here," the Warder bade,
“ Till to our Lord your suit is said.
And, comrades, gaze not on the maid, -
And on these men who ask our aid,
As if ye ne'er had seen
A damsel tired of midnight bark,
Or wanderers of a moulding stark,
And bearing martial mien." .
But not for Eachin's reproof
Would page or vassal stand aloof,
But crowded on to stare,
As men of courtesy untaught,
Till fiery Edward roughly caught,
From one the foremost there,
His chequer'd plaid, and in its shroud, ani
To hide her from the vulgar crowd,
Involved his sister fair. .i i His brother, as the clansman bent His sullen brow in discontent,
Made brief and stern excuse ;-6 Vassal, were thine the cloak of pall That decks thy Lord in bridal hall, 'Twere honour'd by her use."
Proud was his tone, but calm ; his eye
Had that compelling dignity,
His mien that bearing haught and high,
Which common spirits fear;
Needed nor word nor signal more,
Nod, wink, and laughter, all were o’er;
Upon each other back they bore,