They tug, they strain!-down, down they go,

The Gael above, Fitz-James below!

The Chieftain's gripe his throat compressed,
His knee was planted in his breast;
His clotted locks he backward threw,
Across his brow his hand he drew,
From blood and mist to clear his sight,
Then gleamed aloft his dagger bright !—
But hate and fury ill supplied

The stream of life's exhausted tide,
And all too late the advantage came,
To turn the odds of deadly game;

For, while the dagger gleamed on high,

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Reeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye.

250

Down came the blow! but in the heath

The erring blade found bloodless sheath.
The struggling foe may now unclasp
The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp;—
Unwounded from the dreadful close,
But breathless all, Fitz-James arose.

He faltered thanks to Heaven for life,
Redeemed, unhoped, from desperate strife;
Next on his foe his look he cast,

Whose every gasp appeared his last;

In Roderick's gore he dipped the braid,―31

260

"Poor Blanche! thy wrongs are dearly paid: Yet with thy foe must die, or live,

The praise that Faith and Valour give.”—
With that he blew a bugle-note,
Undid the collar from his throat,

Unbonneted, and by the wave

Sate down his brow and hands to lave.
Then faint afar are heard the feet
Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet;
The sounds increase, and now are seen
Four mounted squires in Lincoln green;
Two who bear lance, and two who lead,
By loosened rein, a saddled steed:
Each onward held his headlong course,
And by Fitz-James reined up his horse,-
With wonder viewed the bloody spot-
"Exclaim not, gallants! question not.-
You, Herbert and Luffness, alight,
And bind the wounds of yonder knight;
Let the grey palfrey bear his weight,
We destined for a fairer freight,

And bring him on to Stirling straight:

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I will before at better speed,

To seek fresh horse and fitting weed.32
The sun rides high;-I must be boune 33
To see the archer-game at noon;
But lightly Bayard clears the lea.-
De Vaux and Herries, follow me."

As up the flinty path they strained,
Sudden his steed the leader reined;
A signal to his squire he flung,
Who instant to his stirrup sprung:

"Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodsman grey,
Who town-ward holds the rocky way,

Of stature tall and poor array?

Mark'st thou the firm, yet active stride,

With which he scales the mountain-side?

Know'st thou from whence he comes, or whom?"

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300

Like form in Scotland is not seen,

Treads not such step on Scottish green.

'Tis James of Douglas, by Saint Serle !34 The uncle of the banished Earl.

Away, away, to court, to show

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The near approach of dreaded foe:

The King must stand upon his guard;
Douglas and he must meet prepared."

Then right-hand wheeled their steeds, and
straight

They won the Castle's postern gate.-
The Douglas, who had bent his way
From Cambus-kenneth's abbey grey,
Now, as he climbed the rocky shelf,
Held sad communion with himself:
"Yes! all is true my fears could frame;
A prisoner lies the noble Græme,
And fiery Roderick soon will feel
The vengeance of the royal steel.
I, only I, can ward their fate,-
God grant the ransom come not late!
The Abbess hath her promise given,
My child shall be the bride of Heaven ;—
Be pardoned one repining tear!
For He, who gave her, knows how dear,

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How excellent-but that is by,
And now my business is-to die.-

35

Ye towers! within whose circuit dread
A Douglas by his sovereign bled ;3
And thou, O sad and fatal mound! 36
That oft has heard the death-axe sound,
As on the noblest of the land

Fell the stern headsman's bloody hand,-
The dungeon, block, and nameless tomb
Prepare, for Douglas seeks his doom!-
But hark! what blithe and jolly peal
Makes the Franciscan steeple reel?
And see! upon the crowded street,
In motley groups what masquers meet!
Banner and pageant, pipe and drum,
And merry morrice-dancers come.37
I guess, by all this quaint array,
The burghers hold their sports to-day.38
James will be there;-he loves such show,
Where the good yeoman bends his bow,
And the tough wrestler foils his foe,
As well as where, in proud career,
The high-born tilter shivers spear.
I'll follow to the Castle-park,

And play my prize;-King James shall mark,39

If age has tamed these sinews stark,40

Whose force so oft, in happier days,

His boyish wonder loved to praise."41

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350

[The Douglas engages as a competitor in the sports. He is the victor in archery, in wrestling, and in "putting" the stone. The prize for the last contest is a purse of broad pieces. He throws the gold amongst the people, and is hailed enthusiastically as a champion. A royal stag is let loose. Douglas's dog Lufra distances the King's greyhounds, and brings down the deer. The King's huntsman, in anger, strikes Lufra with his leash. A blow from Douglas's hand stretches him bleeding and senseless on the sward. Douglas is arrested by the King's orders. A tumult arises, which the Douglas, on whose behalf it is made, with difficulty quells. A messenger arrives to inform the King that the Earl of Mar has marched against Roderick Dhu. The King sends back the messenger to forbid the war, though the latter fears that it is too late.]

Ill with King James's mood that day
Suited gay feast and minstrel lay ;
Soon were dismissed the courtly throng,
And soon cut short the festal song.
Nor less upon the saddened town
The evening sunk in sorrow down.
The burghers spoke of civil jar,

Of rumoured feuds and mountain war;
Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu,
All up in arms :-the Douglas too,

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They mourned him pent within the hold

"Where stout Earl William was of old"- 42

THERE is great excitement in Stirling Castle on the morning of the next day. News has arrived of a bloody fray fought between Loch Katrine and Loch Achray. Old Bertram of Ghent arrives at the Castle, accompanied by a minstrel and a maid. It is Ellen Douglas and Allan-bane. Ellen has to endure many indignities from the rough soldiery; but her maiden innocence, and the knight's ring, are her safeguard. Young Lewis of Tullibardine conducts her to a room where she may repose securely under female care till the King can receive her. Allan-bane induces the warder to admit him to his master's cell. When he is locked in, he finds himself in the presence, not of Douglas, but of Roderick Dhu. The minstrel narrates to the Chieftain the incidents of the battle. So completely is the latter transported by the narrative that he dreams he is in the field, and dies before it is finished.

Fitz-James appears in Ellen's room, and conducts her to the court. In the midst of the gay assemblage, she observes that he alone wears cap and plume, and now discovers that "Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King." She learns, too, that her father has been reconciled to the King. Through her father, she asks a pardon for Malcolm Græme, who kneels before the King. The latter dooms him to " fetters, and, throwing his own golden chain round his neck, lays the clasp in Ellen's hand.

I.

THE sun, awakening, through the smoky air
Of the dark city casts a sullen glance;
Rousing each caitiff to his task of care,1
Of sinful man the sad inheritance;
Summoning revellers from the lagging dance,
Scaring the prowling robber to his den;
Gilding on battled tower the warder's lance,2
And warning student pale to leave his pen,

And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men.3

[In the early morning, Bertram of Ghent arrives at the Castle, accompanied by Ellen Douglas and Allan-bane. Ellen suffers many indignities from the rough soldiery; but her native bravery and her maiden innocence disarm them, and win for her the protection of John de Brent, who goes to inform the Captain of the Guard of the strange arrival.]

Their captain came, a gallant young-
(Of Tullibardine's house he sprung),
Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight;
Gay was his mien, his humour light,
And, though by courtesy controlled,
Forward his speech, his bearing bold.
The high-born maiden ill could brook
The scanning of his curious look
And dauntless eye;-and yet, in sooth,
Young Lewis was a generous youth;
But Ellen's lovely face and mien,
Ill suited to the garb and scene,
Might lightly bear construction strange,
And give loose fancy scope to range.—
"Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid!
Come ye to seek a champion's aid,
On palfrey white, with harper hoar,
Like errant damosel of yore?6
Does thy high quest a knight require,
Or may the venture suit a squire?"-
Her dark eye flashed;

sighed,

she paused and

30

"O what have I to do with pride!—

Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife,

A suppliant for a father's life,

I crave an audience of the King.
Behold, to back my suit, a ring,
The royal pledge of grateful claims,
Given by the Monarch to Fitz-James."-

The signet-ring young Lewis took,
With deep respect and altered look;
And said, "This ring our duties own;
And pardon, if to worth unknown,
In semblance mean obscurely veiled,7
Lady, in aught my folly failed.
Soon as the day flings wide his gates,
The King shall know what suitor waits.
Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bowers
Repose you till his waking hour;
Female attendance shall obey
Your hest, for service or array.
Permit I marshal you the way.' 9
But, ere she followed, with the grace
And open bounty of her race,
She bade her slender purse be shared
Among the soldiers of the guard.

The rest with thanks their guerdon took;10
But Brent, with shy and awkward look,

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50