V -f-^.. \ifo xl*?*. %<^ 0^ C^J.L^-'^o. .«-' .^ - p *- LIPPINCOTT'S CLASSICS EDITED BY EDWIN L. MILLER, A.M. PRINCIPAL OF THE NORTHERN HIGH SCHOOL, DETROIT, MICH. SIR WALTER SCOTT'S LADY OF THE LAKE LIPPINCOTT'S CLASSICS EDITED BY EDWIN L. MILLER, A.M. PRINCIPAL OF THE NORTHERN HIGH SCHOOL, DETROIT, MICH. BURKE'S CONCILIATION With Notes By E. L. MILLER, A.M. SHAKESPEARE'S MACBETH With Notes By CHAS. R. GASTON SHAKESPEARE'S MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM With Notes By CLARENCE STRATTON COLERIDGE'S THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER AND OTHER POEMS With Notes By LOUISE POUND, Ph.D. TENNYSON'S IDYLLS OF THE KING With Notes By WILLIS H. WILCOX, Ph.M. SCOTT'S LADY OF THE LAKE With Notes By J. MILNOR DOREY, A.M. GREAT AMERICAN SPEECHES With Notes By CLARENCE STRATTON IN PREPARATION SHAKESPEARE'S JULIUS C^SAR With Notes By MISS MARY McKITTRICK DICKENS'S TALE OF TWO CITIES With Notes By W. WILBUR HATFIELD SCOTT'S IVANKOE With Notes By T. H. BAIR SHAKESPEARE'S TEMPEST With Notes By O. J. P. WIDSTOE GEORGE ELIOT'S SILAS MARNER With Notes By WILLIAM M. OTTO LINCOLN'S SPEECHES With Notes By J. de ROULHAC HAMILTON BURNS'S POEMS With Notes By E. L. MILLER BOSWELL'S JOHNSON With Notes By J. M. SKINNING SIR WALTER SCOTT LIPPINCOTT'S CLASSICS EDITED BY EDWIN L. MILLER, A.M. PRINCIPAL OF THE NORTHERN HIGH SCHOOL, DETROIT, MICH. SCOTT'S LADY OF THE LAKE WITH NOTES AND INTRODUCTION BY J. MILNOR DOREY, A.M. (Harvard) PHILADELPHIA AND LONDON J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY f?53^^ I ^ \'=\^ COPYRIGHT, I92I, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED m 10 1921 PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY AT THE WASHINGTON SQUARE PRESS PHILADELPHIA, U. S. A. ©CI.A617271 . / U TO D. C. D. CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION Scott's Boyhood, Abridged from his Autobiography 9 Outline of his Later Life 21 Scott's Introduction to "The Lady of the Lake " 22 How TO Dramatize the Poem 27 THE LADY OF THE LAKE Canto I 33 Canto II 57 Canto III 84 Canto IV 108 Canto V i34 Canto VI , 162 NOTES Canto I. . .- 189 Canto II 192 Canto III I9S Canto IV 196 Canto V 198 Canto VI. i99 INTRODUCTION scott's boyhood (Abridged from his Autobiography) Walter Scott, my father, was born in 1729, and edu- cated to the profession of a Writer to the Signet. I was born, as I beHeve, on the 15th August, 1771. I showed every sign of health and strength until I was about eigh- teen months old. One night, I have been often told, I showed great reluctance to be caught and put to bed; and after being chased about the room was apprehended and consigned to my dormitory with some difficulty. It was the last time I was to show such personal agility. In the morning I was discovered to be affected with the fever which often accompanies the cutting of large teeth. It held me three days. On the fourth, when they went to bathe me as usual, they discovered that J had lost the power of my right leg. My grandfather, an excellent anatomist as well as physician, the late worthy Alexander Wood, and many others of the most respectable of the faculty, were consulted. There appeared to be no dislo- cation or sprain ; blisters and other topical remedies were applied in vain. The advice of my grandfather, Dr. Rutherford, that I should be sent to reside in the country, to give the chance of natural exertion, excited by free air and liberty, was first resorted to; and before I have the recollection of the slightest event I was, agreeably to this friendly counsel, an inmate in the farmhouse of Sandy-Knowe. It is here at Sandy-Knowe, in the residence of my paternal grandfather, already mentioned, that I have the first consciousness of existence. Lady of the Lake My grandmother, in whose youth the old Border depredations were matter of recent tradition, used to tell me many a tale of Watt of Harden, Wight Willie of Aikwood, Jamie Telfer of the fair Dodhead, and other heroes — merrymen all of the persuasion and calling of Robin Hood and Little John. Two or three old books which lay in the window seat were explored for my amuse- ment in the tedious winter days. Automathes and Ram- say's Tea-table Miscellanies were my favorites, although at a later period an odd volume of Josephus's Wars of the Jezvs divided my partiality. My kind and affectionate aunt, Miss Janet Scott, whose memory will ever be dear to me, used to read these works to me with admirable patience, until I could repeat long passages by heart. The ballad of Hardyknute I was early master of, to the great annoyance of almost our only visitor, the worthy clergyman of the parish, Dr. Duncan, who had not patience to have a sober chat interrupted by my shouting forth this ditty. Methinks I now see his tall, thin, emaciated figure, his legs cased in clasped gam- badoes, and his face of a length that would have rivaled the Knight of La Mancha's, and hear him exclaiming, " One may as well speak in the mouth of a cannon as where that child is." I was in my fourth year when my father was advised that the Bath waters might be of some advantage to my lameness. My affectionate aunt, although such a journey promised to a person of her retired habits anything but pleasure or amusement, undertook as readily to accompany me to the wells of Bladud as if she had expected all the delight that ever the prospect of a watering place held out to its most impatient visitants. My health was by this time a good deal confirmed by the country air and the influence of that imperceptible and unf atiguing exercise to which the good sense of my grandfather had subjected me; for, when the day was fine, I was usually carried out Lady of the Lake and laid down beside the old shepherd, among the crags or rocks round which he fed his sheep. The impatience of a child soon inclined me to struggle with my infirmity, and I began by degrees to stand, to walk, and to run. Although the limb affected was much shrunk and con- tracted, my general health, which was of more importance, was much strengthened by being frequently in the open air; and, in a word, I, who in a city had probably been condemned to hopeless and helpless decrepitude, was now a healthy, high-spirited, and, my lameness apart, a sturdy child. During my residence at Bath I acquired the rudi- ments of reading at a day school kept by an old dame near our lodgings, and I had never a more regular teacher, although I think I did not attend her a quarter of a year. An occasional lesson from my aunt supplied the rest. Afterwards, when grown a big boy, I had a few lessons fromi Mr. Stalker, of Edinburgh, and finally from the Rev. Mr. Cleeve. But I never acquired a just pronun- ciation, nor could I read with much propriety. The most delightful recollections of Bath are dated after the arrival of my uncle, Captain Robert Scott, who introduced me to all the little amusements which suited my age, and, above all, to the theater. The play was As You Like It; and the witchery of the whole scene is alive in my mind at this moment. I made, I believe, noise more than enough, and remember being so much scandal- ized at the quarrel between Orlando and his brother, in the first scene, that I screamed out, *' A'n't they brothers ? " A few weeks' residence at home convinced me, who had till then been an only child in the house of my grandfather, that a quarrel between brothers was a very natural event. After being a year at Bath I returned first to Edin- burgh, and afterwards for a season to Sandy-Knowe; and thus the time whiled away till about my eighth year, Lady of the Lake when it was thought sea bathing might be of service to my lameness. For this purpose, still under my aunt's protection, I remained some weeks at Prestonpans — a circumstance not worth mentioning, excepting to record my juvenile inti- macy with an old military veteran, Dalgetty by name, who had pitched his tent in that little village, after all his campaigns, subsisting upon an ensign's half pay, though called by courtesy a captain. As this old gentleman, who had been in all the German wars, found very few to listen to his tales of military feats, he formed a sort of alliance with me, and I used invariably to attend him for the pleasure of hearing those communications. Some- times our conversation turned on the American war, which was then raging. It was about the time of Bur- goyne's unfortunate expedition, to which my Captain and I augured different conclusions. Somebody had shown me a map of North America, and, struck with the rugged appearance of the country and the quantity of lakes, I expressed some doubts on the subject of the General's arriving safely at the end of his journey, which were very indignantly refuted by the Captain. The news of the Saratoga disaster, while it gave me a little triumph, rather shook my intimacy with the veteran. Besides this veteran, I found another ally at Preston- pans in the person of George Constable, an old friend of my father's. He was the first person who told me about Falstaff and Hotspur, and other characters in Shakespeare. What idea I annexed to them I know not, but I must have annexed some, for I remember quite well being interested in the subject. Indeed, I rather suspect that children derive impulses of a powerful and important kind in hear- ing things which they cannot entirely comprehend; and, therefore, that to write down to children's understanding is a mistake : set them on the scent, and let them puz- zle it out. Lady of the Lake From Prestonpans I was transported back to my father's house in George's Square, which continued to be my most established place of residence until my marriage in 1797. I felt the change, from being a single indulged brat to becoming a member of a large family, very severely ; for, under the gentle government of my kind grandmother, who was meekness itself, and of my aunt, who, though of an higher temper, was exceedingly attached to me, I had acquired a degree of license which could not be permitted in a large family. I had sense enough, however, to bend my temper to my new circumstances ; but such was the agony which I internally experienced, that I have guarded against nothing more, in the educa- tion of my own family, than against their acquiring habits of self-willed caprice and domination. I found much consolation during this period of mortification, in the partiality of my mother. She joined to a light and happy temper of mind a strong turn to study poetry and works of imagination. My lameness and solitary habits had made me a toler- able reader, and my hours of leisure were usually spent in reading aloud to my mother Pope's translation of Homer, which, excepting a few traditionary ballads, and the songs in Allan Ramsay's Evergreen, was the first poetry which I perused. My mother had good natural taste and great feeling: she used to make me pause upon those passages which expressed generous and worthy sentiments, and, if she could not divert me from those which were descriptive of battle and tumult, she con- trived at least to divide my attention between them. My own enthusiasm, however, was chiefly awakened by the wonderful and the terrible — the common taste of chil- dren, but in which I have remained a child even unto this day. I got by heart, not as a task, but almost without intending it, the passages with which I was most pleased, and used to recite them aloud, both when alone and to 13 Lady of the Lake others — more willingly, however, in my hours of solitude, for I had observed some auditors smile, and I dreaded ridicule at that time of life more than I have ever done since. In 1778 I was sent to the second class of the Grammar School, or High School of Edinburgh, then taught by Mr. Luke Fraser, a good Latin scholar and a very worthy man. Though I had received, with my brothers, in pri- vate, lessons of Latin from Mr. James French, now a minister of the Kirk of Scotland, I was nevertheless rather behind the class in which I was placed both in years and in progress. This was a real disadvantage, and one to which a boy of lively temper and talents ought to be as little exposed as one who might be less expected to make up his leeway, as it is called. The situation has the unfortunate effect of reconciling a boy of the former character (which in a posthumous work I may claim for my own) to holding a subordinate station among his class fellows — to which he would otherwise affix disgrace. There is also, from the constitution of the High School, a certain danger not sufficiently attended to. The boys take precedence in their places, as they are called, accord- ing to their merit, and it required a long while, in general, before even a clever boy, if he falls behind the class, or is put into one for which he is not quite ready, can force his way to the situation which his abilities really entitle him to hold. But, in the meanwhile, he is necessarily led to be the associate and companion of those inferior spirits with whom he is placed; for the system of precedence, though it does not limit the general intercourse among the boys, has nevertheless the effect of throwing them into clubs and coteries, according to^ the vicinity of the seats they hold. A boy of good talents, therefore, placed even for a time among his inferiors, especially if they be also his elders, learns to participate in their pursuits and objects of ambition, which are usually very distinct from the acqui- 14 Lady of the Lake sition of learning; and it will be well if he does not also imitate them in that indifference which is contented with bustling over a lesson so as to avoid punishment, without affecting superiority or aiming at reward. It was prob- ably owing to this circumstance, that, although at a more advanced period of life I have enjoyed considerable facility in acquiring languages, I did not make any great figure at the High School ; or, at least, any exertions which I made were desultory and little to be depended on. Our class contained some very excellent scholars. As for myself, I glanced like a meteor from one end of the class to the other, and commonly disgusted my kind mas- ter as much by negligence and frivolity as I occasionally pleased him by flashes of intellect and talent. Among my companions my good nature and a flow of ready imagina- tion rendered me very popular. Boys are uncommonly just in their feelings, and at least equally generous. My lameness, and the efforts which I made to supply that disadvantage, by making up in address what I wanted in activity, engaged the latter principle in my favor; and in the winter play hours, when hard exercise was impos- sible, my tales used to assemble an admiring audience round Lucky Brown's fireside, and happy was he that could sit next to the inexhaustible narrator. I was also, though often negligent of my own task, always ready to assist my friends ; and hence I had a little party of stanch partisans and adherents, stout of hand knd heart, though somewhat dull of head — the very tools for raising a hero to eminence. So, on the whole, I made a brighter figure in the yards than in the class. After having been three years under Mr. Fraser, our class was, in the usual routine of the school, turned over to Dr. Adam, the Rector. It was from this respect- able man that I first learned the value of the knowledge I had hitherto considered only as a burdensome task. It was the fashion to remain two years at his class, where Lady of the Lake we read Caesar and Livy and Sallust, in prose; Virgil, Horace, and Terence, in verse. I had by this time mas- tered, in some degree, the difficulties of the language, and began to be sensible of its beauties. This was really gathering grapes from thistles ; nor shall I soon forget the swelling of my little pride when the Rector pronounced that, though many of my school-fellows understood the Latin better, Gualterus Scott was behind few in following and enjoying the author's meaning. Thus encouraged, I distinguished myself by some attempts at poetical versions from Horace and Virgil. Dr. Adam used to invite his scholars to such essays, but never made them tasks. I gained some distinction upon these occasions, and the Rector in future took much notice of me; and his judi- cious mixture of censure and praise went far to counter- balance my habits of indolence and inattention. I saw I was expected to do well, and I was piqued in honor to vindicate my master's favorable opinion. I climbed, therefore, to the first form ; and, though I never made a first-rate Latinist, my school-fellows, and what was of more consequence, I myself, considered that I had a char- acter for learning to maintain. From Dr. Adam's class I should, according to the usual routine, have proceeded immediately to college. But, fortunately, I was not yet to lose, by a total dismission from constraint, the acquaintance with the Latin which I had acquired. 'My health had become rather delicate from rapid growth, and my father was easily persuaded to allow me to spend half a year at Kelso with my kind aunt, Miss Janet Scott, whose inmate I again became. It is hardly worth mentioning that I had frequently visited her during our short vacations. In the meanwhile my acquaintance with English litera- ture was gradually extending itself. In the intervals of my school hours I had always perused with avidity such books of history or poetry or voyages and travels as i6 Lady of the Lake chance presented to me — not forgetting the usual or rather ten times the usual, quantity of fairy tales, eastern stories, romances, etc. These studies were totally unregu- lated and undirected. My tutor thought it almost a sin to open a profane play or poem; and my mother, besides that she might be in some degree trammeled by the relig- ious scruples which he suggested, had no longer the opportunity to hear me read poetry as formerly. I found, however, in her dressing room (where I slept at one time) some odd volumes of Shakespeare ; nor can I easily forget the rapture with which I sate up in my shirt reading them by the light of a fire in her apartment, until the bustle of the family rising from supper warned me it was time to creep back to my bed, where I was supposed to have been safely deposited since nine o'clock. Chance, however, threw in my way a poetical preceptor. This was no other than the excellent and benevolent Dr. Black- lock, well known at that time as a literary character. I know not how I attracted his attention, and that of some of the young men who boarded in his family; but so it was that I became a frequent and favored guest. The kind old man opened to me the stores of his library, and through his recommendation I became intimate with Os- sian and Spenser. I was delighted with both, yet I think chiefly with the latter poet. The tawdry repetitions of the Ossianic phraseology disgusted me rather sooner than might have been expected from my age. But Spenser I could have read forever. Too young to trouble myself about the allegory, I considered all the knights and ladies and dragons and giants in their outward and exoteric sense, and God only knows how delighted I was to find myself in such society. As I had always a wonderful facility' in retaining in my memory whatever verses pleased me, the quantity of Spenser's stanzas which I could repeat was really marvelous. But this memory of mine was a very fickle ally, and has through my whole life acted 2 17 Lady of the Lake merely upon its own capricious motion, and might have enabled me to adopt old Beattie of Meikledale's answer, when complimented by a certain reverend divine on the strength of the same faculty : " No, sir," answered the old Borderer, " I have no command of my memory. It only retains what hits my fancy; and probably, sir, if you were to preach to me for two hours, I would not be able when you finished to remember a word you had been say- ing." My memory was precisely of the same kind ; it seldom failed to preserve most tenaciously a favorite passage of poetry, a play-house ditty, or, above all, a border-raid ballad ; but names, dates, and other technicali- ties of history escaped me in a most melancholy degree. The philosophy of history, a much more important sub- ject, was also a sealed book at this period of my life; but I gradually assembled much of what was striking and picturesque in historical narrative ; and when, in riper years, I attended more to the deduction of general prin- ciples, I was furnished with a powerful host of examples in illustration of them. I was, in short, like an ignorant gamester, who kept up a good hand until he knew how to play it. I left the High School, therefore, with a great quantity of general information, ill arranged, indeed, and collected without system, yet deeply impressed upon my mind, read- ily assorted by my power of connection and memory, and gilded, if I may be permitted to say so, by vivid and active imagination. If my studies were not under any direction at Edinburgh, in the country, it may be well imagined, they were less so. A respectable subscription library, a circulating library of ancient standing, and some private ' bookshelves were open to my random perusal, and I waded into the stream like a blind man into a ford, without the power of searching my way, unless by groping for it. My appetite for books was as ample and indiscriminating as it was indefatigable, and I since have had too frequently i8 Lady of the Lake reason to repent that few ever read so much, and to so little purpose. Among the valuable acquisitions I made about this time was an acquaintance with Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered. But, above all, I then first became acquainted with Bishop Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry. I remember well the spot where I read these volumes for the first time. It was beneath a huge platanus tree, in the ruins of what had been intended for an old-fashioned arbor in the garden I have mentioned. The summer day sped onward so fast, that, notwithstanding the sharp appetite of thirteen, I forgot the hour of dinner, was sought for with anxiety, and was still found entranced in my intellectual banquet. To read and to remember was in this instance the same thing, and henceforth I overwhelmed my school- fellows, and all who would hearken to me, with tragical recitations from the ballads of Bishop Percy. The first time, too, I could scrape a few shillings together, which were not common occurrences with me, I bought unto myself a copy of these beloved volumes ; nor do I believe I ever read a book half so frequently or with half the enthusi- asm. About this period also I became acquainted with the works of Richardson, and those of Mackenzie, with Fielding, Smollett, and some others of our best novelists. To this period also I can trace distinctly the awaking of that delightful feeling for the beauties of natural objects which has never since deserted me. The neighborhood^ of Kelso, the most beautiful, if not the most romantic vil- lage in Scotland, is eminently calculated to awaken these ideas. From this time the love of natural beauty, more espe- cially when combined with ancient ruins, or remains of our fathers' piety or splendor, became with me an in- satiable passion, which, if circumstances had permitted, I would willingly have gratified by traveling over half the globe. 19 Lady of the Lake If, however, it should ever fall to the lot of youth to peruse these pages — let such a reader remember that it is with the deepest regret that I recollect in my manhood the opportunities of learning which I neglected in my youth ; that through every part of my literary career I have felt pinched and hampered by my own ignorance; and that I would at this moment give half the reputation I have had the good fortune to acquire, if by doing so I could rest the remaining part upon a sound foundation of learning and science. 20 OUTLINE OF HIS LATER LIFE 1785. Entered Edinburgh University. See Lockhart's " Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott," for an account of his college experiences, extensive reading and jaunts. 1792. Admitted to the Scottish Bar. See Lockhart for ex- periences in his father's office, visits to his father's clients in the Highlands, where he secured material for " The Lady of the Lake," and reading of fiction. 1797. Married Mademoiselle Charpentier. See Lockhart for an account of a prior romance, its effect on him, and a picture of his domestic life. 1802-1803. Border Minstrelsy. Scott's first w^ork, the result of reading German romantic lore. See Lockhart. 1805. The Lay of the Last MinstreL See Lockhart. 1808. Marmion. See Lockhart. 1810. The Lady of the Lake. See Lockhart. 181 1. Bought Abbotsford. See Lockhart for description of this estate and circumstances of purchase. 1814. Waverh^y. See Lockhart for account of Scott's enter- ing the field of prose fiction, and his habits of work. 1815. Guy Manncring. See Lockhart. 1816. The Antiquary. Old Mortality. See Lockhart. 1817. Harold the Dauntless. See Lockhart. 1818. Rob Roy. The Heart of Midlothian. See Lockhart. 1819. The Bride of Lammermoor. See Lockhart. 1820. Ivanhoe. The Monastery. The Abbot. See Lockhart. 1821. Kenihvorth. See Lockhart. 1822. The Pirate. The Fortunes of Nigel. See Lockhart. 1823. Qucntin Durzvard. See Lockhart. 1824. Redgauntlet. See Lockhart. 1825. Failure of Ballantyne and Company, Publishers. See Lockhart for account of Scott's entering intO' business with this firm, their subsequent failure, and Scott's labors to clear himself of debt. 1826. Woodstock. See Lockhart. 1827. Life of Napoleon Bonaparte. See Lockhart. 1828-1831. Tales of a Grandfather, four series. See Lockhart. 1832. Died at Abbotsford, September 21. See Lockhart for account of his gradual failure in health, struggles to preserve it, travel to Italy, last days, and for his personal tribute to Scott's life and character. In addition to the extensive and intimate record of Scott's life by his son-in-law, Lockhart, the Life of Sir Walter Scott, in the English Men of Letter Series, by Richard H. Hutton, is interesting and accurate. The above outline does not contain reference to all his activities and literary works, only the most commonly known. Students should supplement this. Also Scott's own Journal (1825-1832) should be read. For a brief sketch of Scott's life, see Miller's English Litera- ture, Chapter xxix, pp. 346-357, published by J. B. Lippincott Co. 21 SCOTT'S INTRODUCTION TO "THE LADY OF THE LAKE" After the success of Mannion,! felt inclined to exclaim with Ulysses in the Odysseys: One venturous game my hand has won to-day, Another, gallants, yet remains to play, xxii, 5. The ancient manners, the habits, and customs of the aboriginal race by whom the Highlands of Scotland were inhabited, had always appeared to me peculiarly adapted to poetry. The change in their manners, too, had taken place almost within my own time, or at least I had always thought the old Scottish Gael highly adapted for poetical composition. The feuds and political dissensions which, half a century earlier, would have rendered the richer and wealthier part of the kingdom indisposed to countenance a poem, the scene of which was laid in the Highlands, were now sunk in the generous compassion w^hich the English more than any other nation feel for the misfor- tunes of an honorable foe. The poems of Ossian had, by their popularity, sufficiently shown that, if writings on Highland subjects were qualified to interest the readers, mere national prejudices were, in the present-day, very unlikely to interfere with their success. I had also read a great deal, seen much, and heard more, of that romantic country where I was in the habit of spending some time every autumn ;_and the scenery of Loch Katrine was connected with the recollection of many a dear friend and merry expedition of former days. This poem, the action of which lay among scenes so beautiful and so deeply imprinted on my recollections, was a labor of love, and it was no less so to recall the manners and incidents introduced. The frequent custom of James IV, and particularly of James V, to walk through the kingdom in disguise, afforded me the hint of an incident which 22 Lady of the Lake never fails to be interesting if managed with the slightest address or dexterity. I may now confess, however, that the employment, though attended with great pleasure, was not without its doubts and anxieties. A lady, to whom I was nearly related, and with whom I lived, during her whole life, on the most brotherly terms of affection, was residing with me at the time when the work was in progress, and used to ask me what I could possibly do to rise so early in the morning (that happening to be the most convenient to me for composition). At last I told her the subject of my meditations ; and I can never forget the anxiety and affection expressed in her reply. " Do not be so rash," she said, " my dearest cousin. You are already popular — more so, perhaps, than you yourself will believe, or than even I, or other partial friends, can fairly allow to your merit. You stand high — do not rashly attempt to climb higher, and incur the risk of a fall ; for, depend upon it, a favorite will not be permitted even to stumble with impunity." I replied to this affectionate expostula- tion in the words of Montrose" " He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To gain or lose it all." " If I fail," T said, for the dialogue is strong in my recollection, " it is a sign that I ought never to have succeeded, and I will write prose for life; you shall see no change in my temper, nor will I eat a single meal the worse. But if I succeed, " ' Up with the bonnie blue bonnet, The dirk, and the feather, and a' ! '" Afterwards I showed my affectionate and anxious critic the first canto of the poem, which reconciled her to my imprudence. Nevertheless, though I answered thus 23 Lady of the Lake confidently, with the obstinacy often said to be proper to those who bear my surname, I acknowledge that my con- fidence was considerably shaken by the warning of her excellent taste and unbiased friendship. Nor was I much comforted by her retraction of the unfavorable judgment, when I recollected how likely a natural partiality was to efifect that change of opinion. In such cases affection rises like a light on the canvas, improves any favorable tints which it formerly exhibited, and throws its defects into the shade. I remember that about the same time a friend started in to " heeze up my hope," like the " sportsman with his cutty gun," in the old song. He was bred a farmer, but a man of powerful understanding, natural good taste, and warm poetical feeling, perfectly competent to Supply the wants of an imperfect or irregular education. He was a passionate admirer of field sports, which we often pur- sued together. As this friend happened to dine with me at Ashestiel one day, I took the opportunity of reading to him the first canto of The Lady of the Lake, in order to ascertain the effect the poem was likely to produce upon a person who was but too favorable a representative of readers at large. It is, of course, to be supposed that I determined rather to guide my opinion by what my friend might appear to feel,- than by what he might think fit to say. His reception of my recitation, or prelection, was rather singular. He placed his hand across his brow, and lis- tened with great attention, through the whole account of the stag hunt, till the dogs threw themselves into the lake to follow their master, who embarks with Ellen Douglas. He then started up with a sudden exclamation, struck his hand on the table, and declared, in a voice of censure calculated for the occasion, that the dogs must have been totally ruined by being permitted to take the water after such a severe chase. I own I was much encouraged by 24 Lady of the Lake the species of reverie which had possessed so zealous a follower of the sports of the ancient Nimrod, who had been completely surprised out of all doubts of the reality of the tale. Another of his remarks gave me less pleasure. He detected the identity of the king with the wandering knight, Fitz-James, when he winds his bugle to summon his attendants . . . This discovery, as Mr. Pepys says of the rent in his camlet cloak, was but a trifle, yet it troubled me ; and I was at a good deal of pains to efface any remarks by which I thought my secret could be traced before the conclusion, when I relied on it with the same hope of producing effect, with which the Irish postboy is said to reserve a " trot for the avenue." I took uncommon pains to verify the accuracy of the local circumstances of this story. I recollect, in particu- lar that, to ascertain whether I was telling a probable tale I went into Perthshire, to see whether King James could actually have ridden from the Banks to Loch Vennachar to Stirling Castle within the time supposed in the poem, and had the pleasure to satisfy myself that it was quite practicable. After a considerable delay The Lady of the Lake appeared in June, 1810; and its success was certainly so extraordinary as to induce me for the moment to conclude that I had at last fixed a nail in the proverbially inconstant wheel of Fortune, whose stability in behalf of an individual who had so boldly courted her favors for three successive times had not as yet been shaken. I had attained, perhaps, that degree of reputation at which prudence, or certainly timidity, would have made a halt and discontinued efforts by which I was far more likely to diminish my fame than to increase it. But, as the celebrated John Wilkes is said to have explained to his late Majesty, that he himself, amid his full tide of popularity, was never a Wilkite, so I can, with honest truth, exculpate myself from having Lady of the Lake been at any time a partisan of my own poetry, even when it was in the highest fashion with the milhon. It must not be supposed that I was either so ungrateful or so superabundantly candid as to despise or scorn the value of those whose voice had elevated me so much higher than my own opinion told me I deserved. I felt, on the con- trary, the more grateful to the public, as receiving that from partiality to me, which I could not have claimed from merit; and I endeavored to deserve the partiality by continuing such exertions as I was capable of for their amusement. It may be that I did not, in this continued course of scribbling, consult either the interest of the public or my own. But the former had effectual means of defending themselves, and could, by their coldness, sufficiently check any approach to intrusion; and for myself, I had now for several years dedicated my hours so much to literary labor that I should have felt difficulty in employing myself otherwise ; and so, like Dogberry, I generously bestowed all my tediousness on the public, comforting myself with the reflection that, if posterity should think me undeserv- ing of the favor with which I was regarded by my con- temporaries, " they could not but say I had the crown," and had enjoyed for a time that popularity which is so much coveted. I conceived, however, that I held the distinguished situation I had obtained, however unworthily, rather like the champion of pugilism, on the condition of being always ready to show proofs of my skill, than in the manner of the champion of chivalry, who performs his duties only on rare and solemn occasions. I was in any case conscious that I could not long hold a situation which the caprice rather than the judgment of the public had bestowed upon me, and preferred being deprived of my precedence by some more worthy rival, to sinking into contempt for my indolence, and losing my reputation by what Scottish 26 Lady of the Lake lawyers call the negative prescripiion. Accordingly, those who choose to look at the Introduction to Rokchy will be able to trace the steps by which I declined as a poet to figure as a novelist ; as the ballad says, " Queen Eleanor sunk at Charing Cross to rise again at Queenhithe." It only remains for me to say that, during my short preeminence of popularity, I faithfully observed the rules of moderation which I had resolved to follow before I began my course as a man of letters. If a man is deter- mined to make a noise in the world, he is sure to encounter abuse and ridicule, as he who gallops furiously through a village must reckon on being followed by the curs in full cry. Experienced persons know that, in stretching to flog the latter, the rider is very apt to catch a bad fall ; nor is an attempt to chastise a malignant critic attended with less danger to the author. On this principle, I let parody, burlesque, and sqtiibs find their own level ; and while the latter hissed most fiercely, I was cautious never to catch them up, as schoolboys do, to throw them back against the naughty boy who fired them off, wisely remem- bering that they are in such cases apt to explode in the handling. Let me add that my reign (since Byron has so called it) was marked by some instances of good nature as well as patience. I never refused a literary person of merit such services in smoothing his way to the public as were in my power ; and I had the advantage — rather an uncommon one with our irritable race — to enjoy favor without incurring permanent ill-will, so far as is known to me, among any of my contemporaries. — Abbotsford, April, 1830. HOW TO DRAMATIZE THE POEM Any teaching and study of " The Lady of the Lake " should be a dramatization of the poem. That is to say, the real values of the poem will never be understood and enjoyed by a mere text-book analysis of the lines. Enough analysis and word study should be employed to secure comprehension of the page, but real teaching and study lies in utilizing proper means to make the 27 Lady of the Lake characters and scenes relive in the minds and hearts of the pupils. Enough notes are provided to make needed facts accessible. Much is left to the enterprising pupil. The questions on each Canto are intended to arouse thought rather than to catechize. Ihe Introduction provides enough information about Scott to stimulate pupils to read more. The best sources of information are suggested. Moreover, the account furnished is given in Scott's own words. It seems like an impertinence to try to do otherwise. The rest is left to the personality, scholarship, and enterprise of the teacher, who, especially in English teaching, is always the bigger factor. In addition to the authorities already referred to, Lockhart, Hutton, and Scott's own "Journal," the teacher should encourage pupils to supplement the study of the poem with other readings from Scott's works, especially " Marmion," " Ivanhoe," " Quen- tin Durward," and " Rob Roy." Jane Porter's " Scottish Chiefs " is also worth reading. In " The Tales of a Grandfather," Chap- ters Seven to Twelve throw light on the characters of Wallace and Bruce. Chapter Ten gives an account of the strife between England and Scotland. Chapters Twenty-six to Twenty-eight describe the character of Douglas and the reign of James V, the hero of the poem, as well as the character and customs of the Highlanders and Borderers. Lockhart's " Life," of course, is the great authority, and its fascinating pages read like romance. Scott's childhood is treated in Vol. I, chapter ii ; his pets and rambles in Vol. II. chapter xiv ; his personal traits in Vol. II, chapters xv and xvii, and in Vol. VI, chapter lix ; his experiences at Abbotsford in Vol. V, chapter xx, and in Vol. VI, chapter i; and his own comments on " The Lady of the Lake " in Vol. Ill, chapter xx, and in Vol. VI, chapter liii. An enlivening study of the text, free from pedantry, is not enough. The wise teacher will read it aloud, simply, sincerely, free from the tricks of elocution. And she will teach her pupils tO' read it aloud in the same fashion. She will hold the printed page " up to the ears " of her pupils, where it belongs. Literature is really a misnomer. The age of criticism did the bad business of locking up life in books and calling it literature (Itteni). In the teaching of English to-day, nothing is more needed than teachers of imagination and power, who will loose the spirits of literature from the printed page and thus free the spirits of young people. For example, that teacher who has freed the spirit of " The Lady of the Lake " from the printed page by vitalizing study and by oral reading wil4 also make the poem live by con- ducting the pupils in imagination from Edinburgh to Glasgow through the Trosachs. She is doubly fortunate if she has herself taken that trip. With maps, Baedekers, postcards, sprigs of heather and lavender, pieces of Scotch plaid and other memen- toes, she can really create the scenes and people in " The Lady of the Lake." Her pupils will set out with her on top of the Lady of the Lake lumbering coaches that connect the railway stations with steam- boat landings. They will smell the sweet odors of Scottish foliage, feel the ever-present Scotch mist om their faces, and watch the morning fog creep up in the valleys, hear the rush of torrents in the glens, and catch the glint of sunlight from moun- tain peaks as they respond to the stirring breezes from the upper decks of the lake steamers. " The steep, steep sides of Loch Lomond " impress their rugged beauty. The emerald charm of Ellen's Isle takes on romantic tinge, and the winding paths on wooded hills are charged with the echoes of hurrying hoof beats of horse and deer, and the mellow tones of faraway bugles. With Scott himself as guide — genial, inspiring Scott — the world of romance, chivalry, and beauty of the life of " hall and bower " may be lived in imagination and woven into the texture of our prosaic modern life. The best way to teach " The Lady of the Lake," however, is to make a play of it, cast and stage it, and give it public pro- duction. It is eminently dramatic, abounding in strong scenes, and rich scenic effects. The verse is fluent and musical, the characters worthy of portrayal, the costumes picturesque, and the action easy. Moreover, there is opportunity to employ music for the songs and dances and to accompany the action. The following outline and suggestions, adapted from actual pro- duction, may be helpful. The Characters Lord James of Douglas, father to Ellen — a political exile. James Fitz-James, Knight of Snowdoun. Later, James Stuart, King of Scotland. Roderick Dhu, an outlawed chieftain — Ellen's lover. Allan-Bane, harper to the Douglas. Brian, a hermit. Malcolm Graeme, a ward of the King — Ellen's lover. Malise, Murdock, Norman, henchmen to Roderick. Herbert, Luffness, De Vaux, Herries, squires to James Fitz- James. John de Brent. Captain Lewis. Bertram. Lady Margaret, mother to Roderick. Blanche of Devan, a maniac. Ellen Douglas, cousin to Roderick. Vassals, Soldiers, Clansmen, Maids, Knights, and Ladies. (If necessary, more than one character may be taken by the same person.) Scene Vicinity of Loch Katrine, Western Highlands of Perthshire, Scotland. 29 Lady of the Lake Time 1528-1542. Reign of James V, father of Mary, Queen of Scots. The Time of Action is six days. The Time of Play is two hours. Settings, Properties, Costumes Act I. Scene i. The Island. Wood scene, with lake, half visible cottage, rustic seat. Hunter: travelling costume of the king. Ellen and Margaret: Scottish women's costumes. Scene 2. Living Room, the Lodge. Table, rustic chairs, swords, ant- lers, pikes, net, etc., on walls. The costumes of the Douglas, Malcolm, and Roderick should be distinguishing Scottish dress. Allan-Bane should have a harp, wig, and beard. Act II. Wood Scene. Mossy bank, kettle with tripod over fire. Costumes the same. Act III. Scene i. Same as Act II., without kettle, etc. Scene 2. Guard Room, Castle. Table, benches, swords, shields, etc., lying about ; mugs on table. Costumes of soldiers of dif- ferent nations. Ellen with shawl. Scene 3. Ellen's Apart- ment. Simple room and furniture down stage. Conventional drop for rear wall, raised to disclose King's Presence Room. Throne, dais, rugs, palms, hangings, cushions, screens. Knights and Ladies in conventional court costume of the period. The action of Act I, Scene i, may take place in the early evening on the Island, but the opening passages between James and Ellen may seem to occur on the mainland. The play may open disclosing the Hunter pacing back and forth, uttering the lines of par. ix. Canto I. He looks about, then speaks the lines of pars. XV and xvi. He winds his horn. Ellen enters and we have dialogue of pars, xx-xxv. Of course, in every case where con- versation is paraphrased or implied, the teacher or ingenious pupils will have to create the actual dialogue. James and Ellen may exit to reappear on the opposite side of the stage, as if they had crossed in the boat. The conversation may be renewed v/ith the line of Ellen in par. xxvi. The action may continue up to par. xxxiii, including the entrance of Lady Margaret, the serving of the evening meal, the clearing of the table, and the retiring of the ladies. The episode of the sword should, of course, be included, as well as the song of Ellen, ''Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er." Scene i may end with the soliloquy of James in par. xxxv, at the end of which James enters the cottage to retire. The action of Scene 2 should take place inside the living room of the Lodge, the next morning. Allan-Bane is discovered idly strumming his harp. Ellen enters, looking behind as if watching the departure of James. The dialogue should begin with her words, " Wake, Allan-Bane," in par. vi. Canto II. It ends with par. XV, when the sounds of " Hail to the Chief " are heard. 30 Lady of the Lake They rise, and Lady Margaret enters with the lines, " Come, loiterer, come ! " Ellen exits to greet her father. The sounds of the clansmen's song grow louder as Ellen, the Douglas, and Malcolm enter. Douglas begins the conversation with the lines in par. xxiii, Ellen taking it up in par. xxvi. Roderick enters on hnes in par. xxviii, and the conversation and action, with the struggle of Malcolm and Roderick, continues to the end of the Canto. The action of Act II takes place on the Heights of Bcnvenue, in the vicinity of Roderick's camp and the Goblin Cave, hiding place of Ellen and the Douglas, afternoon. Roderick is discov- ered pacing anxiously abo'ut with Malise. Brian, the hermit, is preparing nearby the wooden cross. After some ceremony, Brian raises the cross aloft on the words of par. ix. The action and dialogue continues to par. xiii. As he departs, a chorus off stage may sing the Coronach, " He is gone on the mountain." After the exit of Brian, Roderick paces back and forth, listening to the song of Ellen in the distance, " Ave Maria ! " Roderick utters the words in par. xxx, and exits as Norman enters, mur- muring the words in soliloquy of par. i. Canto IV. The dialogue of these two, Malise and Norman, including the entrance of Brian and Roderick, continues to the end of par. viii. As they exeunt, Ellen and Allan-Bane enter. We have their conversation up to the end of par. xi, when James enters. The action and dialogue continue to the end of par. xix. Ellen and Allan exeunt, and Murdock enters as a cry is heard. The action then resumes, beginning with par. xx, and continues with the entrance of Blanche, her song, the treachery of Murdock, the fight be- tween James and Murdock, death of Blanche, and oath of James. At the end of his speech in par. xxviii, James lies down to sleep, but is disturbed by the Sentinel (Roderick in disguise). Their dialogue continues until the end of the Canto, and they exeunt, as if to Roderick's camp. Act III, Scene i, takes place at Coilant ogle's Ford, midday. The Sentinel begins the conversation with James with the ques- tion at the end of par. iii. The action and dialogue now continue between them up to and including the fight as far as par. xvii. At the end of the struggle, James utters the lines of par. xvii and summons Herbert, Lnffness, De Vaux, and Herries. On direc- tion they bear out the body of Roderick, and James is about to follow, when he sees the form of Douglas and utters the lines of par. xix, and exits to avoid seeing him. Douglas enters with the soliloquy of par. xx. He exits, and the scene ends. Scene 2 takes place in the guard room, Canto VI. Soldiers are lounging about and John de Brent is talking about the games in which Douglas vexed the King with his skill and was taken captive. News of Roderick's uprising are told. They are all joining in a song on John's lines in par. iv, when Bertram enters with Ellen and Allan-Bane. The conversation continues until par. xi, when 31 Lady of the Lake Lewis takes Ellen away, and John goes at the end of par. xi to bring Roderick. We have the conversation between Roderick and Allan up to the middle of par. xiv, where Roderick asks Allan to chant the battle scene. Allan starts to do so, when Roderick, endeavoring to rise, falls over dead. The stage may be darkened as Allan chants the lament, par. xxii. Scene 3 shows Ellen in her apartment sitting in dejection, listening to the song of Malcolm, par. xxiv. James enters, and we have their conversation of par. XXV. Curtains part to show the Presence Room. James leads her down the rows of courtiers. She then learns that James is King of Scotland, falls at his feet, and is raised by James, who speaks the lines of pars, xxvii, xxviii, and xxix. She embraces her father, and the play ends with James giving Malcolm to Ellen with the chain of gold. 32 THE LADY OF THE LAKE ARGUMENT The scene of the following Poem is laid chiefly in the vicinity of Loch Katrine, in the Western High- lands of Perthshire. The time of Action includes Six Days, and the transactions of each Day occupy a Canto. CANTO FIRST THE CHASE Harp of the North ! that mouldering long hast hung On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring, And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, Till envious ivy did around thee cling, Muffling with verdant ringlet every string, — 5 O Minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep? Mid rustling leaves and fountains murmuring, Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep. Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep? Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon, lo Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, When lay of hopeless love, or glory won. Aroused the fearful or subdued the proud. At each according pause was heard aloud Thine ardent symphony sublime and high ! 15 Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bowed ; For still the burden of thy minstrelsy Was Knighthood's dauntless deed and Beauty's match- less eye. O, wake once more ! how rude soe'er the hand That ventures o'er thy magic maze to stray ; 20 O, wake once more ! though scarce my skill command Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay: 3 33 Lady of the Lake Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 25 The wizard note has not been touched in vain. Then silent be no more 1 Enchantress, wake again. The stag at eve had drunk his fill, Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, And deep his midnight lair had made 30 In lone Glenartney's hazel shade ; But when the sun his beacon red Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head, The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bay Resounded up the rocky way, 35 And faint, from farther distance borne, Were heard the clanging hoof and horn. II As Chief, who hears his warder call, " To arms ! the f oemen storm the wall," The antlered monarch of the waste 40 Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. But, ere his fleet career he took, The dewdrops from his flanks he shook ; Like crested leader proud and high Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky; 45 A moment gazed adown the dale, A moment snuffed the tainted gale, A moment listened to the cry, That thickened as the chase drew nigh ; Then, as the headmost foes appeared, 50 With one brave bound the copse he cleared. And, stretching forward free and far, Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 34 Lady of the Lake III Yelled on the view the opening pack ; Rock, glen, and cavern paid them back ; 55 To many a mingled sound at once The awakened mountain gave response. A hundred dogs bayed deep and strong, Clattered a hundred steeds along. Their peal the merry horns rung out, 60 A hundred voices joined the shout; With hark and whoop and wild halloo, No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. Far from the tumult fled the roe, Close in her covert cowered the doe, 65 The falcon, from her cairn on high, Cast on the rout a wandering eye, Till far beyond her piercing ken The hurricane had swept the glen. Faint, and more faint, its failing din 70 Returned from cavern, cliff, and linn, And silence settled, wide and still, On the lone wood and mighty hill. IV Less loud the sounds of sylvan war Disturbed the heights of Uam-Var, 75 And roused the cavern where, 't is told, A giant made his den of old ; For, ere that steep ascent was won. High in his pathway hung the sun. And many a gallant, stayed perforce, 80 Was fain to breathe his faltering horse, And of the trackers of the deer Scarce half the lessening pack was near; So shrewdly on the mountain-side Had the bold burst their mettle tried. 85 35 Lady of the Lake The noble stag was pausing now Upon the mountain's southern brow, Where broad extended, far beneath, The varied realms of fair Menteith. With anxious eye he wandered o'er 90 Mountain and meadow, moss and moor, And pondered refuge from his toil, By far Lochard or Aberfoyle. But nearer was the copsewood gray That waved and wept on Loch Achray, 95 And mingled with the pine-trees blue On the bold cliffs of Benvenue. Fresh vigor with the hope returned. With flying foot the heath he spurned, Held westward with unwearied race, 100 And left behind the panting chase. VI 'T were long to tell what steeds gave o'er. As swept the hunt through Cambusmore ; What reins were tightened in despair. When rose Benledi's ridge in air ; 105 Who flagged upon Bochastle's heath, Who shunned to stem the flooded Teith, — For twice that day, irom shore to shore. The gallant stag swam stoutly o'er. Few were the stragglers, following far, 1 10 That reached the lake of Vennachar ; And when the Brigg of Turk was won. The headmost horseman rode alone. VII Alone, but with unbated zeal, That horseman plied the scourge and steel ; 115 For jaded now, and spent with toil, 36 Lady of the Lake Embossed with foam, and dark with soil, While every gasp with sobs he drew, The laboring stag strained full in view. Two dogs of black Saint Hubert's breed, 120 Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed. Fast on his flying traces came. And all but won that desperate game ; For, scarce a spear's length from his haunch. Vindictive toiled the bloodhounds stanch ; 125 Nor nearer might the dogs attain. Nor farther might the quarry strain. Thus up the margin of the lake, Between the precipice and brake, O'er stock and rock their race they take. 130 VIII The hunter marked that mountain high, The lone lake's western boundary, And deemed the stag must turn to bay, Where that huge rampart barred the way ; Already glorying in the prize, 135 Measured his antlers with his eyes; For the death-wound and death-halloo Mustered his breath, his whinyard drew : — But thundering as he came prepared. With ready arm and weapon bared, 140 The wily quarry shunned the shock. And turned him from the opposing rock; Then, dashing down a darksome glen, Soon lost to hound and Hunter's ken. In the deep Trosachs' wildest nook 145 His solitary refuge took. There, while close couched the thicket shed Cold dews and wild flowers on his head, 37 Lady of the Lake He heard the baffled dogs in vain Rave through the hollow pass amain, 150 Chiding the rocks that yelled again. IX Close on the hounds the Hunter came, To cheer them on the vanished game ; But, stumbling in the rugged dell, The gallant horse exhausted fell. 155 The impatient rider strove in vain To rouse him with the spur and rein. For the good steed, his labors o'er, Stretched his stiff limbs, to rise no more ; Then, touched with pity and remorse, 160 He sorrowed o'er the expiring horse. *' I little thought, when first thy rein I slacked upon the banks of Seine, That Highland eagle e'er should feed On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ! 165 Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day, That costs thy life, my gallant gray ! " Then through the dell his horn resounds, From vain pursuit to call the hounds. Back limped, with slow and crippled pace, 170 The sulky leaders of the chase; Close to their master's side they pressed. With drooping tail and humbled crest ; But still the dingle's hollow throat Prolonged the swelling bugle-note. 175 The owlets started from their dream, The eagles answered with their scream, Round and around the sounds were cast. Till echo- seemed an answering blast ; 38 Lady of the Lake And on the Hunter hied his way, 1 80 To join some comrades of the day, Yet often paused, so strange the road, So wondrous were the scenes it showed. XI The western waves of ebbing day Rolled o'er the glen their level way; 185 Each purple peak, each flinty spire. Was bathed in floods of living fire. But not a setting beam could glow Within the dark ravines below, Where twined the path in shadow hid, 190 Round many a rocky pyramid, Shooting abruptly from the dell Its thunder-splintered pinnacle; Round many an insulated mass. The native bulwarks of the pass, 195 Huge as the tower which builders vain Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain, The rocky summits, split and rent. Formed turret, dome, or battlement, Or seemed fantastically set 200 With cupola or minaret, Wild crests as pagod ever decked. Or mosque of Eastern architect. Nor were these earth-born castles bare, Nor lacked they many a banner fair ; 205 For, from their shivered brows displayed. Far o'er the unfathomable glade, All twinkling with the dewdrop sheen. The brier-rose fell in streamers green. And creeping shrubs of thousand dyes 210 Waved in the west-wind's summer sighs. 39 Lady of the Lake XII Boon nature scattered, free and wild, Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. Here eglantine embalmed the air, Hawthorn and hazel mingled there; 215 The primrose pale and violet flower Found in each clif t a narrow bower ; Foxglove and nightshade, side by side. Emblems of punishment and pride, Grouped their dark hues with every stain 220 The weather-beaten crags retain. With boughs that quaked at every breath, Gray birch and aspen wept beneath; Aloft, the ash and warrior oak Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; 225 And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung His shattered trunk, and frequent flung, Where seemed the cliflfs to meet on high, His boughs athwart the narrowed sky. Highest of all, where white peaks glanced, 230 Where glistening streamers waved and danced, The wanderer's eye could barely view The summer heaven's delicious blue; So wondous wild the whole might seem The scenery of a fairy dream. 235 XIII Onward amid the copse 'gan peep A narrow inlet, still and deep. Affording scarce such breadth of brim As served the wild duck's brood to swim. Lost for a space, through thickets veering, 240 But broader when again appearing. Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face Could on the dark-blue mirror trace ; And farther as the Hunter strayed, 40 Lady of the Lake Still broader sweep its channels made. 245 The shaggy mounds no longer stood, Emerging from entangled wood, But, wave-encircled, seemed to float, Like castle girdled with its moat ; Yet broader floods extending still 250 Divide them from their parent hill, Till each, retiring, claims to be An islet in an inland sea. XIV And now, to issue from the glen. No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, 255 Unless he climb with footing nice A far-projecting precipice. The broom's tough roots his ladder made, The hazel saplings lent their aid ; And thus an airy point he won, 260 Where, gleaming with the setting sun, One burnished sheet of living gold. Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolled. In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek, and bay, 265 And islands that, empurpled bright. Floated amid the livelier light, And mountains that like giants stand To sentinel enchanted land. High on the south, huge Benevue 270 Down to the lake in masses threw Crags, knolls, and mounts, confusedly hurled. The fragments of an earlier world; A wildering forest feathered o'er His ruined sides and summit hoar, 275 While on the north, through middle air, Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare. 41 Lady of the Lake XV From the steep promontory gazed The stranger, raptured and amazed, And, " What a scene was here," he cried, 280 " For princely pomp or churchman's pride ! On this bold brow, a lordly tower ; In that soft vale, a lady's bower ; On yonder meadow far away, The turrets of a cloister gray ; 285 How blithely might the bugle-horn Chide on the lake the lingering morn ! How sweet at eve the lover's lute. Chime when the groves were still and mute ! And when the midnight moon should lave 290 Her forehead in the silver wave, How solemn on the ear would come The holy matins' distant hum. While the deep peal's commanding tone Should wake, in yonder islet lone, 295 A sainted hermit from his cell, To drop a bead with every knell ! And bugle, lute, and bell, and all, Should each bewildered stranger call To friendly feast and lighted hall. 300 XVI *' Blithe were it then to wander here ! But now — beshrew yon nimble deer — Like that same hermit's, thin and spare, The copse must give my evening fare ; Some mossy bank my couch must be, 305 Some rustling oak my canopy. Yet pass we that ; the war and chase Give little choice of resting-place ; — A summer night in greenwood spent 42 Lady of the Lake Were but to-morrow's merriment: 310 But hosts may in these wilds abound, Such as are better missed than found ; To meet with Highland plunderers here Were worse than loss of steed or deer. — I am alone; — my bugle-strain 315 May call some straggler of the train ; Or, fall the worst that may betide, Ere now this falchion has been tried." XVII But scarce again his horn he wound. When lo ! forth starting at the sound, 320 From underneath an aged oak That slanted from the islet rock, A damsel guider of its way, A little skiff shot to the bay, That round the promontory steep 325 Led its deep line in graceful sweep. Eddying, in almost viewless wave, The weeping willow twig to lave. And kiss, with whispering sound and slow. The beach of pebbles bright as snow. 330 The boat had touched this silver strand Just as the Hunter left his stand, And stood concealed amid the brake, To view this Lady of the Lake. The maiden paused, as if again 335 She thought to catch the distant strain. With head upraised, and look intent, And eye and ear attentive bent, And locks flung back, and lips apart,, Like monument of Grecian art, 340 In listening mood, she seemed to stand, The guardian Naiad of the strand. 43 Lady of the Lake XVIII And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, Of finer form or lovelier face! 345 What though the sun, with ardent frown, Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown, — The sportive toil, which, short and light, Had dyed her glowing hue so bright. Served too in hastier swell to show 350 Short glimpses of a breast of snow : What though no rule of courtly grace To measured mood had trained her pace, — A foot more light, a step more true. Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew ; 355 E'en the slight harebell raised its head, Elastic from her airy tread : What though upon her speech there hung The accents of the mountain tongue, — Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear, 360 The listener held his breath to hear ! XIX A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid ; Her satin snood, her silken plaid, Her golden brooch, such birth betrayed. And seldom was a snood amid 365 Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid. Whose glossy black to shame might bring The plumage of the raven's wing ; And seldom o'er a breast so fair Mantled a plaid with modest care, 370 And never brooch the folds combined Above a heart more good and kind. Her kindness and her worth to spy, You need but gaze on Ellen's eye; 44 Lady of the Lake Not Katrine in her mirror blue 375 Gives back the shaggy banks more true, Than every free-born glance confessed The guileless movements of her breast ; Whether joy danced in her dark eye, Or woe or pity claimed a sigh, 380 Or filial love was glowing there, Or meek devotion poured a prayer, Or tale of injury called forth The indignant spirit of the North. One only passion unrevealed With maiden pride the maid concealed. Yet not less purely felt the flame ; — O, need I tell that passion's name? XX Impatient of the silent horn, Now on the gale her voice was borne : — 390 *' Father ! " she cried ; the rocks around Loved to prolong the gentle sound. Awhile she paused, no answer came ; — '* Malcolm, was thine the blast? " the name Less resolutely uttered fell; 395 The echoes could not catch the swell. " A stranger I," the Huntsman said. Advancing from the hazel shade. The maid, alarmed, with hasty oar Pushed her light shallop from the shore, 400 And when a space was gained between, Closer she drew her bosom's screen ; — So forth the startled swan would swing, So turn to prune his ruffled wing. Then safe, though fluttered and amazed, 405 She paused, and on the stranger gazed. Not his the form, nor his the eye, That youthful maidens wont to fly. 45 Lady of the Lake XXI On his bold visage middle age Had slightly pressed its signet sage, 410 Yet had not quenched the open truth And fiery vehemence of youth; Forward and frolic glee was there, The will to do, the soul to dare, The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire, 415 Of hasty love or headlong ire. His limbs were cast in manly mould For hardy sports or contest bold ; And though in peaceful garb arrayed, And weaponless except his blade, 420 His stately mien as well implied A high-born heart, a martial pride, As if a baron's crest he wore, And sheathed in armor trod the shore. Slighting the petty need he showed, 425 He told of his benighted road ; His ready speech flowed fair and free. In phrase of gentlest courtesy, Yet seemed that tone and gesture bland Less used to sue than to command. 430 XXII Awhile the maid the stranger eyed. And, reassured, at length replied. That Highland halls were open still To wildered wanderers of the hill. " Nor think you unexpected come 435 To yon lone isle, our desert home ; Before the heath had lost the dew. This morn, a couch was pulled for you ; On yonder mountain's purple head Have ptarmigan and heath-cock bled, 440 And our broad nets have swept the mere, 46 Lady of the Lake To furnish forth your evening cheer." — " Now, by the rood, my lovely maid, Your courtesy has erred," he said ; " No right have I to claim, misplaced, 445 The welcome of expected guest. A wanderer, here by fortune tost. My way, my friends, my courser lost, I ne'er before, believe me, fair, Have ever drawn your mountain air, 450 Till on this lake's romantic strand I found a fay in fairy land ! " — XXIII " I well believe," the maid replied, As her light skiff approached the side, — " I well believe, that ne'er before 455 Your foot has trod Loch Katrine's shore; But yet, as far as yesternight, Old Allan-bane foretold your plight, — A gray-haired sire, whose eye intent Was on the visioned future bent. 460 He saw your steed, a dappled gray. Lie dead beneath the birchen way; Painted exact your form and mien. Your hunting-suit of Lincoln green. That tasselled horn so gayly gilt, 465 That falchion's crooked blade and hilt, That cap with heron plumage trim. And yon two hounds so dark and grim. He bade that all should ready be To grace a guest of fair degree ; 470 But light I held his prophecy. And deemed it was my father's horn Whose echoes o'er the lake were borne." 47 Lady of the Lake XXIV The stranger smiled : — " Since to your home A destined errant-knight I come, Announced by prophet sooth and old, Doomed, doubtless, for achievement bold, I'll lightly front each high emprise For one kind glance of those bright eyes. Permit me first the task to guide Your fairy frigate o'er the tide." The maid, with stnile suppressed and sly, The toil unwonted saw him try; For seldom, sure, if e'er before, His noble hand had grasped an oar : Yet with main strength his strokes he drew, And o'er the lake the shallop flew; With heads erect and whimpering cry, The hounds behind their passage ply. Nor frequent does the bright oar break The darkening mirror of the lake. Until the rocky isle they reach, And moor their shallop on the beach. XXV The stranger viewed the shore around ; 'Twas all so close with copsewood bound, Nor track nor pathway might declare That human foot frequented there. Until the mountain maiden showed A clambering unsuspected road. That winded through the tangled screen, And opened on a narrow green. Where weeping birch and willow round With their long fibres swept the ground. Here, for retreat in dangerous hour. Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 48 Lady of the Lake XXVI It was a lodge of ample size, But strange of structure and device ; Of such materials as around The workman's hand had readiest found. Lopped of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, 510 And by the hatchet rudely squared, To give the walls their destined height, The sturdy oak and ash unite; While moss and clay and leaves combined To fence each crevice from the wind. 515 The lighter pine-trees overhead Their slender length for rafters spread, And withered heath and rushes dry Supplied a russet canopy. Due westward, fronting to the green, 520 A rural portico was seen, Aloft on native pillars borne, Of mountain fir with bark unshorn. Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine The ivy and Idsean vine, 525 The clematis, the favored flower Which boasts the name of virgin-bower, And every hardy plant could bear Loch Katrine's keen and searching air. An instant in this porch she stayed, 530 And gayly to the stranger said : " On heaven and on thy lady call, And enter the enchanted hall ! " XXVII " My hope, my heaven, my trust must be, My gentle guide, in following thee ! " — 535 He crossed the threshold, — and a clang Of angry steel that instant rang. 4 49 Lady of the Lake To his bold brow his spirit rushed, But soon for vain alarm he blushed, When on the floor he saw displayed, 54^ Cause of the din, a naked blade Dropped from the sheath, that careless flung Upon a stag's huge antlers swung ; For all around, the walls to grace, Hung trophies of the fight or chase : 545 A target there, a bugle here, A battle-ax, a hunting-spear, And broadsword, bows, and arrows store, With the tusked trophies of the boar. Here grins the wolf as when he died, 550 And there the wildcat's brindled hide The frontlet of the elk adorns, Or mantles o'er the bison's horns ; Pennons and flags defaced and stained, That blackening streaks of blood retained, 555 And deer-skins, dappled, dun, and white, With otter's fur and seal's unite, In rude and uncouth tapestry all, To garnish forth the sylvan hall. XXVIII The wondering stranger round him gazed, 560 And next the fallen weapon raised : — Few were the arms whose sinewy strength Sufficed to stretch it forth at length. And as the brand he poised and swayed, " I never knew but one," he said, 565 " Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield A blade like this in battle-field." She sighed ; then smiled and took the word : " You see the guardian champion's sword ; As light it trembles in his hand 570 As in my grasp a hazel wand : 50 Lady of the Lake My sire's tall form might grace the part Of Ferragus or Ascabart, But in the absent giant's hold Are women now, and menials old.'* 575 XXIX The mistress of the mansion came, Mature of age, a graceful dame, Whose easy step and stately port Had well become a princely court, To whom, though more than kindred knew, 580 Young Ellen gave a mother's due. Meet welcome to her guest she made, And every courteous rite was paid That hospitality could claim, Though all unasked his birth and name. 585 Such then the reverence to a guest, That fellest foe might join the feast, And from his deadliest foeman's door Unquestioned turn, the banquet o'er. At length his rank the stranger names, 590 " The Knight of Snowdoun, Jafnes Fitz-James ; Lord of a barren heritage, Which his brave sires, from age to age. By their good swords had held with toil ; His sire had fallen in such turmoil, 595 And he, God wot, was forced to stand Oft for his right with blade in hand. This morning with Lord Moray's train He chased a stalwart stag in vain, Outstripped his comrades, missed the deer, 600 Lost his good steed, and wandered here." XXX Fain would the Knight in turn require The name and state of Tillen's sire. SI Lady of the Lake Well showed the elder lady's mien That courts and cities she had seen ; 605 Ellen, though more her looks displayed The simple grace of sylvan maid, In speech and gesture form and face. Showed she was come of gentle race. 'Twere strange in ruder rank to find 610 Such looks, such manners, and such mind. Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave, Dame Margaret heard with silence grave ; Or Ellen, innocently gay. Turned all inquiry light away: — 615 " Weird women we ! by dale and down We dwell, afar from tower and town. We stem the flood, we ride the blast, On wandering knights our spells we cast ; While viewless minstrels touch the string, 620 'Tis thus our charmed rhymes we sing." She sung, and still a harp unseen Filled up the symphony between. XXXI SONG " Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; 625 Dream of battle fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall. Hands unseen thy couch are strewing; Fairy strains of music fall, 630 Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more; Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking. Morn of toil, nor night of waking. 635 52 Lady of the Lake " No rude sound shall reach thine ear, Armor's clang or war-steed champing, Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come 640 At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders challenge here, 645 Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing. Shouting clans or squadrons stamping." XXXII She paused, — then, blushing, led the lay. To grace the stranger of the day. Her mellow notes awhile prolong 650 The cadence of the flowing song. Till to her lips in measured frame The minstrel verse spontaneous came. SONG CONTINUED " Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; While our slumbrous spells assail ye, 655 Dream not, with the rising sun, Bugles here shall sound reveille. Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying; Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen 660 How thy gallant steed lay dying. Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; Think not of the rising sun, For at dawning to assail ye Here no bugles sound reveille." 665 53 Lady of the Lake XXXIII The hall was cleared, — the stranger's bed Was there of mountain heather spread, Where oft a hundred guests had lain, And dreamed their forest sports again. But vainly did the heath-flower shed 670 Its moorland fragrance round his head ; Not Ellen's spell had lulled to rest The fever of his troubled breast. In broken dreams the image rose Of varied perils, pains, and woes : 675 His steed now flounders in the brake, Now sinks his barge upon the lake ; Now, leader of a broken host, His standard falls, his honor's lost. Then, — from my couch may heavenly might 680 Chase that worst phantom of the night ! — Again returned the scenes of youth, Of confident, undoubting truth ; Again his soul he interchanged With friends whose hearts were long estranged. 685 They come, in dim procession led, The cold, the faithless, and the dead ; As warm each hand, each brow as gay, As if they parted yesterday. And doubt distracts him at the view, — 690 Oh! were his senses false or true? Dreamed he of death or broken vow. Or is it all a vision now ? XXXIV At length, with Ellen in a grove He seemed to walk and speak of love ; 695 She listened with a blush and sigh ; His suit was warm, his hopes were high. 54 Lady of the Lake He sought her yielded hand to clasp, And a cold gauntlet met his grasp : The phantom's sex was changed and gone; 700 Upon its head a helmet shone ; Slowly enlarged to giant size, With darkened cheek and threatening eyes. The grisly visage, stern and hoar. To Ellen still a likeness bore. — 705 He woke, and, panting with affright. Recalled the vision of the night. The hearth's decaying brands were red, And deep and dusky lustre shed. Half showing, half concealing, all 710 The uncouth trophies of the hall. Mid those the stranger lixed his eye Where that huge falchion hung on high. And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng. Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along, 715 Until, the giddy whirl to cure, He rose and sought the moonshine pure. XXXV The wild rose, eglantine, and broom Wasted around their rich perfume; The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm; 720 The aspens slept beneath the calm ; The silver light, with quivering glance. Played on the water's still expanse, — Wild were the heart whose passion's sway Could rage beneath the sober ray ! 725 He felt its calm, that warrior guest. While thus he communed with his breast: — " Why is it, at each turn I trace Some memory of that exiled race? Can I not mountain maiden spy, 730 But she must bear the Douglas eye? 55 Lady of the Lake Can I not view a Highland brand, But it must match the Douglas hand? Can I not frame a fevered dream, But still the Douglas is the theme ? 735 I'll dream no more, — my manly mind Not even in sleep is well resigned. My midnight orisons said o'er, I'll turn to rest, and dream no more." His midnight orisons he told, 74^ A prayer with every bead of gold, Consigned to heaven his cares and woes, And sunk in undisturbed repose. Until the heath-cock shrilly crew. And morning dawned on Benvenue. 745 S^ CANTO SECOND THE ISLAND I At morn the black cock trims his jetty wing, 'T is morning prompts the Hnnet's bhthest lay, All Nature's children feel the matin spring Of life reviving, with reviving day ; And while yon little bark glides down the bay, 5 Wafting the stranger on his way again, Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel gray, And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain, Mixed with the sounding harp, O white-haired Allan- bane ! II SONG " Not faster yonder rowers' might 10 Flings from their oars the spray. Not faster yonder rippling bright. That tracks the shallop's course in light, Melts fn the lake away, Than men from memory erase 15 The benefits of former days ; Then, stranger, go ! good speed the while, Nor think again of the lonely isle. " High place to thee in royal court, High place in battled line, 20 Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport! Where beauty sees the brave resort. The honored meed be thine ! True be thy sword, thy friend sincere, 57 Lady of the Lake Thy lady constant, kind, and dear, 25 And lost in love's and friendship's smile Be memory of the lonely isle ! Ill SONG CONTINUED " But if beneath yon southern sky A plaided stranger roam, Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh, 30 And sunken cheek and heavy eye, Pine for his Highland home; Then, warrior, then be thine to show The care that soothes a wanderer's woe; Remember then thy hap erewhile, 35 A stranger in the lonely isle. " Or if on life's uncertain main Mishap shall mar thy sail ; If faithful, wise, and brave in vain, Woe, want, and exile thou sustain 40 Beneath the fickle gale ; Waste not a sigh on fortune changed, On thankless courts, or friends estranged, But come where kindred worth shall smile, To greet thee in the lonely isle." 45 IV As died the sounds upon the tide. The shallop reached the mainland side, And ere his onward way he took. The stranger cast a lingering look, Where easily his eye might reach 50 The Harper on the islet beach. Reclined against a blighted tree, As wasted, gray, and worn as he. To minstrel meditation given, 5& Lady of the Lake His reverend brow was raised to heaven, 55 As from the rising sun to claim A sparkle of inspiring flame. His hand, reclined upon the wire, Seemed watching the awakening fire ; So still he sat as those who wait 60 Till judgment speak the doom of fate; So still, as if no breeze might dare To lift one lock of hoary hair ; So still, as life itself were fled In the last sound his harp had sped. 65 Upon a rock with lichens wild, Beside him Ellen sat and smiled. — Smiled she to see the stately drake Lead forth his fleet upon the lake, While her vexed spaniel from the beach 70 Bayed at the prize beyond his reach ? Yet tell me, then, the maid who knows, Why deepened on her cheek the rose? — Forgive, forgive, Fidelity ! Perchance the maiden smiled to see 75 Yon parting lingerer wave adieu. And stop and turn to wave anew; And, lovely ladies, ere your ire, Condemn the heroine of my lyre. Show. me the fair would scorn to spy 80 And prize such conquest of her eye ! VI While yet he loitered on the spot. It seemed as Ellen marked him out ; But when he turned him to the glade, One courteous parting sign she made; 85 59 Lady of the Lake And after, oft the knight would say, That not when prize of festal day Was dealt him by the brightest fair Who e'er wore jewel in her hair, So highly did his bosom swell 90 As at that simple mute farewell. Now with a trusty mountain-guide, And his dark stag hounds by his side, He parts, — the maid, unconscious still, Watched him wind slowly round the hill; 95 But when his stately form was hid. The guardian in her bosom chid, — " Thy Malcolm ! vain and selfish maid ! " 'Twas thus upbraiding conscience said, — " Not so had Malcolm idly hung 100 On the smooth phrase of Southern tongue ; Not so had Malcolm strained his eye Another step than thine to spy." — " Wake, Allan-bane," aloud she cried To the old minstrel by her side, — 105 *' Arouse thee from my moody dream! I'll give thy harp heroic theme, And warm thee with a noble name; Pour forth the glory of the Graeme ! " Scarce from her lip the word had rushed, no When deep the conscious maiden blushed ; For of his clan, in hall and bower, Young Malcolm Graeme was held the flower. VII The minstrel waked his harp, — three times Arose the well-known martial chimes, • 115 And thrice their high heroic pride In melancholy murmurs died. *' Vainly thou bidst, O noble maid," Clasping his withered hands, he said, 60 Lady of the Lake " Vainly thou bidst me wake the strain, I20 Though all unwont to bid in vain. Alas ! than mine a mightier hand Has tuned my harp, my strings has spanned ! I touch the chords of joy, but low And mournful answer notes of woe; 125 And the proud march which victors tread Sinks in the wailing for the dead. O, well for me, if mine alone That dirge's deep prophetic tone ! If, as my tuneful fathers said, 130 This harp, which erst Saint Modan swayed. Can thus its master's fate foretell. Then welcome be the minstrel's knell ! VIII " But ah ! dear lady, thus it sighed, The eve thy sainted mother died; 135 And such the sounds which, while I strove To wake a lay of war or love, Came marring all the festal mirth. Appalling me who gave them birth, And, dis6bedient to my call, 140 Wailed loud through Bothwell's bannered hall. Ere Douglases, to ruin driven. Were exiled from their native heaven. — O ! if yet worse mishap and woe My master's house must undergo, 145 Or aught but weal to Ellen fair Confusedly bound in memory's ties, Brood in these accents of despair, No future bard, sad Harp ! shall fling Triumph or rapture from thy string; One short, one final strain shall flow, 1 50 Fraught with unutterable woe, 61 Lady of the Lake Then shivered shall thy fragments lie, Thy master cast him down and die ! " IX Soothing she answered him : " Assuage, Mine honored friend, the fears of age; 155 All melodies to thee are known That harp has rung or pipe has blown. In Lowland vale or Highland glen. From Tweed to Spey — what marvel, then. At times unbidden notes should rise, 160 Entangling, as they rush along. The war-march with the funeral song? — Small ground is now for boding fear ; Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. 165 My sire, in native virtue great, Resigning lordship, lands, and state, Not then to fortune more resigned Than yonder oak might give the wind ; The graceful foliage storms may reave, 170 The noble stem they cannot grieve. For me " — she stooped, and, looking round. Plucked a blue harebell from the ground, — " For me, whose memory scarce conveys An image of more splendid days, 175 This little flower that loves the lea May well my simple emblem be ; It drinks heaven's dew as blithe as rose That in the King's own garden grows : And when I place it in my hair, 180 Allan, a bard is bound to swear He ne'er saw coronet so fair." Then playfully the chaplet wild She wreathed in her dark locks, and smiled. 62 Lady of the Lake X Her smile, her speech, with winning sway, 185 Wiled the old Harper's mood away. With such a look as hermits throw, When angels stoop to soothe their woe, He gazed, till fond regret and pride Thrilled to a tear, then thus replied : 190 " Loveliest and best ! thou little know'st The rank, the honors, thou hast lost ! O, might I live to see thee grace, In Scotland's court, thy birthright place, To see my favorite's step advance 195 The lightest in the courtly dance. The cause of every gallant's sigh, And leading star of every eye, And theme of every minstrel's art. The Lady of the Bleeding Heart ! " 200 XI " Fair dreams are these," the maiden cried, — Light was her accent, yet she sighed, — " Yet is this mossy rock to me Worth splendid chair and canopy ; Nor would my footstep spring more gay 205 In courtly dance than blithe strathspey, Nor half so pleased mine ear incline To royal minstrel's lay as thine. And then for suitors proud and high. To bend before my conquering eye, — 210 Thou, flattering bard ! thyself wilt say. That grim Sir Roderick owns its sway. The Saxon scourge, Clan-Alpine's pride, The terror of Loch Lomond's side, Would, at my suit, thou know'st, delay 215 A Lennox foray — for a day." — 63 Lady of the Lake XII The ancient bard her glee repressed : " 111 hast thou chosen theme for jest! For who, through all this western wild, Named Black Sir Roderick e'er, and smiled? 220 In Holy-Rood a knight he slew ; I saw, when back the dirk he drew, Courtiers give place before the stride Of the undaunted homicide ; And since, though outlawed, hath his hand 225 Full sternly kept his mountain land. Who else dared give— ah ! woe the day, That I such hated truth should say ! — The Douglas, like a stricken deer. Disowned by every noble peer, 230 Even the rude refuge we have here? Alas, this wild marauding Chief Alone might hazard our relief. And, now thy maiden charms expand, Looks for his guerdon in thy hand; 235 Full soon may dispensation sought. To back his suit, from Rome be brought. Then, though an exile on the hill, Thy father, as the Douglas, still Be held in reverence and fear; 240 And though to Roderick thou'rt so dear That thou mightst guide with silken thread, Slave of thy will, this chieftain dread. Yet, O loved maid, thy mirth refrain ! Thy hand is on a lion's mane." — 245 XIII " Minstrel," the maid replied, and high Her father's soul glanced from her eye, *' My debts to Roderick's house I know : 64 Lady of the Lake All that a mother could bestow To Lady Margaret's care I owe, 250 Since first an orphan in the wild She sorrowed o'er her sister's child ; To her brave chieftain son, from ire Of Scotland's king who shrouds my sire, A deeper, holier debt is owed ; 255 And, could I pay it with my blood, Allan ! Sir Roderick should command My blood, my life, — but not my hand. Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell A votaress in Maronnan's cell ; 260 Rather through realms beyond the sea, Seeking the world's cold charity. Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word. And ne'er the name of Douglas heard, An outcast pilgrim will she rove, 265 Than wed the man she cannot love. XIV " Thou shak'st, good friend, thy tresses gray, — That pleading look, what can it say But what I own ? — I grant him brave, But wild as Bracklinn's thundering wave ; 270 And generous, — save vindictive mood Or jealous transport chafe his blood: I grant him true tO' friendly band. As his claymore is to his hand ; But O ! that very blade of steel 275 More mercy for a foe would feel : I grant him liberal, to fling Among his clan the wealth they bring, When back by lake and glen they wind, And in the Lowland leave behind, 280 Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 5 65 Lady of the Lake A mass of ashes slaked with blood. The hand that for my father fought I honor, as his daughter ought; But can I clasp it reeking red 285 From peasants slaughtered in their shed? No ! wildly while his virtues gleam, They make his passions darker seem. And flash along his spirit high Like lightning o'er the midnight sky. 290 While yet a child, — and children know, Instinctive taught, the friend and fOe, — I shuddered at his brow of gloom. His shadowy plaid and sable plume; A maiden grown, I ill could bear 295 His haughty mien and lordly air: But, if thou join'st a suitor's claim, In serious mood, to Roderick's name, I thrill with anguish ! or, if e'er A Douglas knew the word, with fear. 300 To change such odious theme were best, — What think'st thou of our stranger guest ? " — XV " What think I of him ? — woe the while That brought such wanderer to our isle ! Thy father's battle-brand, of yore 305 For Tine-man forged by fairy lore, What time he leagued, no longer foes, His Border spears with Hotspur's bows, Did, self-unscabbarded, foreshow The footstep of a secret foe. 310 If courtly spy hath harbored here, What may we for the Douglas fear ? What for this island, deemed of old Clan- Alpine's last and surest hold ? 66 Lady of the Lake If neither spy nor foe, I pray, 315 What yet may jealous Roderick say? — Nay, wave not thy disdainful head! Bethink thee of the discord dread That kindled when at Beltane game Thou ledst the dance with Malcolm Graeme ; 320 Still, though thy sire the peace renewed, Smoulders in Roderick's breast the feud: Beware ! — But hark ! what sounds are these ? My dull ears catch nO' faltering breeze, No weeping birch nor aspens wake, 325 Nor breath is dimpling in the lake ; Still is the canna's hoary beard, Yet, by my minstrel faith, I heard — And hark again ! some pipe of war Sends the bold pibroch from afar." 330 XVI Far up the lengthened lake were spied Four darkening specks upon the tide That, slow enlarging on the view. Four manned and masted barges grew. And, bearing downwards from Glengyle, 335 Steered full upon the lonely isle ; The point of Brianchoil they passed, And, to the windward as they cast. Against the sun they gave to shine The bold Sir Roderick's bannered Pine. 340 Nearer and nearer as they bear. Spears, pikes, and axes flash in air. Now might you see the tartans brave, And plaids and plumage dance and wave : Now see the bonnets sink and rise, 345 As his tough oar the rower plies ; See, flashing at each sturdy stroke, 67 Lady of the Lake The wave ascending into smoke ; See the proud pipers on the bow, And mark the gaudy streamers flow 350 From their loud chanters down, and sweep The furrowed bosom of the deep, As, rushing through the lake amain, They plied the ancient Highland strain. XVII Ever, as on they bore, more loud 355 And louder rung the pibroch proud. At first the sounds, by distance tame, Mellowed along the waters came. And, lingering long by cape and bay, Wailed every harsher note away, 360 Then bursting bolder on the ear, The clan's shrill Gathering they could hear. Those thrilling sounds that call the might Of old Clan-Alpine to the fight. Thick beat the rapid notes, as when 365 The mustering hundreds shake the glen, And, hurrying at the signal dread, The battered earth returns their tread. Then prelude light, of livelier tone, Expressed their merry marching on, 370 Ere peal of closing battle rose, With mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows ; And mimic din of stroke and ward. As broadsword upon target jarred; And groaning pause, ere yet again, 375 Condensed, the battle yelled amain : The rapid charge, the rallying shout, Retreat borne headlong into rout. And bursts of triumph, to declare Clan-Alpine's conquest — all were there. 380 68 Lady of the Lake Nor ended thus the strain, but slow- Sunk in a moan prolonged and low, And changed the conquering clarion swell For wild lament o'er those that fell. XVIII The war-pipes ceased, but lake and hill 385 Were busy with their echoes still ; And, w^hen they slept, a vocal strain Bade their hoarse chorus wake again, While loud a hundred clansmen raise Their voices in their Chieftain's praise. 390 Each boatsman, bending to his oar, With measured sweep the burden bore, In such wild cadence as the breeze Makes through December's leafless trees. The chorus first could Allan know, 395 " Roderick Vich Alpine, ho ! iro ! " And near, and nearer as they rowed Distinct the martial ditty flowed. XIX BOAT SONG Hail to the Chief who' in triumph advances ! Honored and blessed be the ever green Pine ! 400 Long may the tree, in his banner that glances. Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line! Heaven send it happy dew, Earth lend it sap anew, Gaily to bourgeon and broadly to grow, 405 While every Highland glen Sends our shout back again, " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ; 410 69 Lady of the Lake When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the mountain, The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade. Moored in the rifted rock, Proof to the tempest's shock. Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow; 415 Menteith and Breadalbane, then, Echo his praise again, " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " XX Proudly our pibroch has thrilled In Glen Fruin, And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied ; 420 Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side. Widow and Saxon maid Long shall lament our raid. Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe : 425 Lennox and Leven-glen Shake when they hear again, " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands! Stretch to^ your oars for the ever green Pine ! 430 O that the rosebud that graces yon islands Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine ! O that some seedling gem, Worthy such noble stem. Honored and blessed in their shadow might grow ! 435 Loud should Clan-Alpine then Ring from her deepmost glen, " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " XXI With all her joyful female band Had Lady Margaret sought the strand. 440 Loose on the breeze their tresses flew, 70 Lady of the Lake And high their snowy arms they threw, As echoing back with shrill acclaim, And chorus wild, the Chieftain's name ; While, prompt to please, with mother's art, 445 The darling passion of his heart, The Dame called Ellen to the strand, To greet her kinsman ere he land: " Come, loiterer, come ! a Douglas thou. And shun to wreathe a victor's brow ? " 450 Reluctantly and slow, the maid The unwelcome summoning obeyed. And when a distant bugle rung. In the mid-path aside she sprung: — " List, Allan-bane ! From mainland cast 455 I hear my father's signal blast. Be ours," she cried, " the skiff to guide. And waft him from the mountain-side." Then, like a sunbeam, swift and bright, She darted to her shallop light, 460 And eagerly while Roderick scanned, For her dear form, his mother's band, The islet far behind her lay. And she had landed in the bay. XXII Some feelings are to mortals given 465 With less of earth in them than heaven ; And if there be a human tear From passion's dross refined and clear, A tear so limpid and so meek It would not stain an angel's cheek, 470 'Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter's head ! And as the Douglas to his breast His darling Ellen closely pressed, 71 Lady of the Lake Such holy drops her tresses steeped, 475 Though 't was an hero's eye that weeped. Nor while on Ellen's faltering tongue Her filial welcomes crowded hung, Marked she that fear — affection's proof — Still held a graceful youth aloof ; 480 No ! not till Douglas named his name, Although the youth was Malcolm GrcCme. XXIII Allan, with wistful look the while. Marked Roderick landing on the isle ; His master piteously he eyed, 485 Then gazed upon the Chieftain's pride, Then dashed with hasty hand away From his dimmed eye the gathering spray; And Douglas, as his hand he laid On Malcolm's shoulder, kindly said: 490 " Canst thou, young friend, no meaning spy In my poor follower's glistening eye? I'll tell thee : — he recalls the day When in my praise he led the lay O'er the arched gate of Bothwell proud, 495 While many a minstrel answered loud. When Percy's Norman pennon, won In bloody field, before me shone, And twice ten knights, the least a name As mighty as yon Chief may claim, 500 Gracing my pomp, behind me came. Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud Was I of all that marshalled crowd. Though the waned crescent owned my might. And in my train trooped lord and knight, 505 Though Blantyre hymned her holiest lays. And Bothwell's bards flung back my praise. As when this old man's silent tear, 72 Lady of the Lake And this poor maid's affection dear, A welcome give more kind and true 510 Than aught my better fortunes knew. Forgive, my friend, a father's boast, — O, it out-beggars all I lost ! " XXIV Delightful praise ! — like summer rose, That brighter in the dewdrop glows, 515 The bashful maiden's cheek appeared, For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. The flush of shame-faced joy to hide, The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide ; The loved caresses of the maid 520 The dogs with crouch arid whimper paid; And, at her whistle, on her hand The falcon took his favorite stand, Closed his dark wing, relaxed his eye, Nor, though unhooded, sought to fly. 525 And, trust, while in such guise she stood, Like fabled Goddess of the wood. That if a father's partial thought O'erweighed her worth and beauty aught, Well might the lover's judgment fail 530 To balance with a juster scale ; For with each secret glance he stole, The fond enthusiast sent his soul. XXV Of stature fair, and slender frame. But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme. 535 The belted plaid and tartan hose Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose ; His flaxen hair, of sunny hue. Curled closely round his bonnet blue. Lady of the Lake Trained to the chase, his eagle eye 540 The ptarmigan in snow could spy ; Each pass, by mountain, lake, and heath, He knew, through Lennox and Menteith ; Vain was the bound of dark-brown doe When Malcolm bent his sounding bow, 545 And scarce that doe, though winged with fear, Outstripped in speed the mountaineer : Right up Ben Lomond could he press. And not a sob his toil confess. His form accorded with a mind 550 Lively and ardent, frank and kind ; A blither heart, till Ellen came, Did never love nor sorrow tame ; It danced as lightsome in his breast As played the feather on his crest. 555 Yet friends, who nearest knew the youth. His scorn of wrong, his zeal for truth. And bards, who saw his features bold When kindled by the tales of old. Said, were that youth to manhood grown, 560 Not long should Roderick Dhu's renown Be foremost voiced by mountain fame. But quail to that of Malcolm Graeme. XXVI Now back they wend their watery way. And, " O my sire ! " did Ellen say, 565 " Why urge thy chase so far astray ? And why so late returned ? And why " — The rest was in her speaking eye. " My child, the chase I follow far, 'T is mimicry of noble war; 570 And with that gallant pastime reft Were all of Douglas I have left. I met young Malcolm as I strayed 74 Lady of the Lake Far eastward, in Glenfinals' shade; Nor strayed I safe, for all around 575 Hunters and horsemen scoured the ground. This youth, though still a royal ward, Risked life and land to be my guard. And through the passes of the wood Guided my steps, not unpursued ; 580 And Roderick shall his welcome make, Despite old spleen, for Douglas' sake. Then must he seek Strath-Endrick glen, Nor peril aught for me again." XXVII Sir Roderick, who to meet them came, 585 Reddened at sight of Malcolm Graeme, Yet, not in action, word, or eye, Failed aught in hospitality. In talk and sport they whiled away The morning of that summer day ; 590 But at high noon a courier light Held secret parley with the knight. Whose moody aspect soon declared That evil were the news he heard. Deep thought seemed toiling in his head ; 595 Yet was the evening banquet made Ere he assembled round the flame His mother, Douglas, and the Graeme, And Ellen too ; then cast around His eyes, then fixed them on the ground, 600 As studying phrase that might avail Best to convey unpleasant tale. Long with his dagger's hilt he played, Then raised his haughty brow, and said : — 75 Lady of the Lake XXVIII " Short be my speech ; — nor time affords, 605 Nor my plain temper, glozing words. Kinsman and father — if such name Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick's claim ; Mine honored mother ; — Ellen, — why, My cousin, turn away thine eye? — 610 And Graeme, in whom I hope to know Full soon a noble friend or foe. When age shall give thee thy command. And leading in thy native land, — List all ! — The King's vindictive pride 615 Boasts to have tamed the Border-side, Where chiefs, with hound and hawk who came To share their monarch's sylvan game, Themselves in bloody toils were snared, And when the banquet they prepared, 620 And wide their loyal portals flung. O'er their own gateway struggling hung. Loud cries their blood from Meggat's mead, From Yarrow braes and banks of Tweed, Where the lone streams of Ettrick glide, 625 And from the silver Teviot's side; The dales, where martial clans did ride. Are now one sheep walk, waste and wide. This tyrant of the Scottish throne. So faithless and so ruthless known, 630 Now hither comes ; his end the same. The same pretext of sylvan game. What grace for Highland Chiefs, judge ye By fate of Border chivalry. Yet more; amid Glenfinals' green, 635 Douglas, thy stately form was seen. This by espial sure I know : Your counsel, in the streight I show ? " 76 Lady of the Lake XXIX Ellen and Margaret fearfully Sought comfort in each other's eye; 640 Then turned their ghastly look, each one, This to her sire, that to her son. The hasty color went and came In the bold cheek of Malcolm Graeme, But from his glance it well appeared 645 'Twas but for Ellen that he feared ; While, sorrowful, but undismayed. The Douglas thus his counsel said: " Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar, It may but thunder and pass o'er; 650 Nor will I here remain an hour. To draw the lightning on thy bower ; For well thou know'st, at this gray head The royal bolt were fiercest sped. For thee, who, at thy King's command, 655 Canst aid him with a gallant band. Submission, homage, humbled pride, Shall turn the Monarch's wrath aside. Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart, Ellen and I will seek apart 660 The refuge of some forest cell; There, like the hunted quarry, dwell, Till on the mountain and the moor The stern pursuit be passed and o'er." — XXX " No, by mine honor," Roderick said, 665 " So help me Heaven, and my good blade ! No, never ! Blasted be yon Pine, My father's ancient crest and mine, If from its shade in danger part The lineage of the Bleeding Heart ! 670 Hear my blunt speech : grant me this maid Lady of the Lake To wife, thy counsel to mine aid ; To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu, Will friends and allies flock enow ; Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief, 675 Will bind to us each Western Chief. When the loud pipes my bridal tell. The Links of Forth shall hear the knell, The guards shall start in Stirling's porch; And, when I light the nuptial torch, 680 A thousand villages in flames Shall scare the slumbers of King James ! — Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away. And, mother, cease these signs, I pray ; I meant not all my heat might say.^ 685 Small need of inroad or of fight. When the sage Douglas may unite Each mountain clan in friendly band, To guard the passes of their land. Till the foiled King from pathless glen 690 Shall bootless turn him home again." XXXI There are who have at midnight hour In slumber scaled a dizzy tower, And, on the verge that beetled o'er The ocean tide's incessant roar, 695 Dreamed calmly out their dangerous dream, Till wakened by the morning beam ; When, dazzled by the eastern glow, Such startler cast his glance below. And saw unmeasured depth around, 700 And heard unintermitted sound. And thought the battled fence so frail, It waved like cobweb in the gale; — Amid his senses' giddy wheel, Did he not desperate impulse feel, 705 78 Lady of the Lake Headlong to plunge himself below, And meet the worst his fears foreshow? — Thus Ellen, dizzy and astound, As sudden ruin yawned around, By crossing terrors wildly tossed, 710 Still for the Douglas fearing most, Could scarce the desperate thought withstand, To buy his safety with her hand. XXXII Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy In Ellen's quivering lip and eye, 715 And eager rose to speak, — but ere His tongue could hurry forth his fear, Had Douglas marked the hectic strife, Where death seemed combating with life ; For to her cheek, in feverish flood, 720 One instant rushed the throbbing blood. Then ebbing back, with sudden sway, Left its domain as wan as clay. " Roderick, enough ! enough ! " he cried, *' My daughter cannot be thy bride ; 725 Not that the blush to wooer dear. Nor paleness that of maiden fear. It may not be, — forgive her, Chief, Nor hazard aught for our relief. Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'er 730 Will level a rebellious spear. 'T was I that taught his youthful hand To rein a steed and wield a brand ; I see him yet, the princely boy ! 735 Not Ellen more my pride and joy; I love him still, despite my wrongs By hasty wrath and slanderous tongues. O, seek the grace you well may find. Without a cause to mine combined ! " 79 Lady of the Lake XXXIII Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode ; 740 The waving of his tartans broad, And darkened brow, where wounded pride With ire and disappointment vied, Seemed, by the torch's gloomy light, Like the ill Demon of the night, 745 Stooping his pinions' shadowy sway Upon the nighted pilgrim's way : But, unrequited Love ! thy dart Plunged deepest its envenomed smart, And Roderick, with thine anguish stung, 750 At length the hand of Douglas wrung. While eyes that mocked at tears before With bitter drops were running o'er. The death-pangs of long-cherished hope Scarce in that ample breast had scope, 755 But, struggling with his spirit proud. Convulsive heaved its checkered shroud, While every sob — so- mute were all — Was heard distinctly through the hall. The son's despair, the mother's look, 760 III might the gentle Ellen brook; She rose, and to her side there came, To aid her parting steps, the Graeme. XXXIV Then Roderick from the Douglas broke — As flashes flame through sable smoke, 765 Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low, To one broad blaze of ruddy glow. So the deep anguish of despair Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air. With stalwart rasp his hand he laid 770 On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid : 80 Lady of the Lake '' Back, beardless boy ! " he sternly said, " Back, minion ! holdst thou thus at naught • The lesson I so lately taught? This roof, the Douglas, and that maid, 775 Thank thou for punishment delayed." Eager as greyhound on his game, Fiercely with Roderick grappled Graeme. *' Perish my name, if aught afford Its Chieftain safety save his sword ! " 780 Thus as they strove their desperate hand Griped to the dagger or the brand, And death had been — but Douglas rose, And thrust between the struggling foes His giant strength: — '* Chief tains, forego! 785 I hold the first who strikes my foe. — Madmen, forbear your frantic jar ! What ! is the Douglas fallen so far, His daughter's hand is deemed the spoil Of such dishonorable broil ? " 790 Sullen and slowly they unclasp, As struck with shame, their desperate grasp. And each upon his rival glared, With foot advanced and blade half bared. XXXV Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, 795 Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung. And Malcolm heard his Ellen's scream, As faltered through terrific dream. Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword, And veiled his wrath in scornful word : 800 " Rest safe till morning ; pity 't were Such cheek should feel the midnight air! Then mayst thou to James Stuart tell, Roderick will keep the lake and fell, 6 81 Lady of the Lake Nor lackey with his f reeborn clan 805 The pageant pomp of earthly man. More would he of Clan-Alpine know, Thou canst our strength and passes show. — Malise, what ho ! " — his henchman came : " Give our safe-conduct to the Graeme." 810 Young Malcolm answered calm and bold : " Fear nothing for thy favorite hold ; The spot an angel deigned to grace Is blessed, though robbers haunt the place. Thy churlish courtesy for those • 815 Reserve, who fear to be thy foes. As safe to me the mountain way At midnight as in blaze of day, Though with his boldest at his back Even Roderick Dhu beset the track. — 820 Brave Douglas — lovely Ellen, — nay, Naught here of parting will I say. Earth does not hold a lonesome glen So secret but we meet again. — Chieftain ! we too shall find an hour," — 825 He said, and left the sylvan bower. XXXVI Old Allan followed to the strand — Such was the Douglas's command — And anxious told, how, on the morn, The stern Sir Roderick deep had sworn, 830 The Fiery Cross should circle o'er Dale, glen, and valley, down and moor. Much were the peril to the Graeme From those who to the signal came ; Far up the lake 't were safest land, 835 Himself would row him to the strand. He gave his counsel to the wind, While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind, 82 Lady of the Lake Round dirk and pouch and broadsword rolled, His ample plaid in tightened fold, 840 And stripped his limbs to such array As best might suit the watery way, — XXXVII Then spoke abrupt : " Farewell to thee, Pattern of old fidelity ! " The Minstrel's hand he kindly pressed, — 845 *' O, could I point a place of rest ! My sovereign holds in ward my land. My uncle leads my vasal band ; To tame his foes, his friends to aid, Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade. 850 Yet, if there be one faithful Graeme Who loves the chieftains of his name. Not long shall honored Douglas dwell Like hunted stag in mountain cell ; Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare, — 855 I may not give the rest to air ! ^ Tell Roderick Dhu I owed him naught. Not the poor service of a boat, To waft me to yon mountain-side." Then plunged he in the flashing tide. 860 Bold o'er the flood his head he bore. And stoutly steered him from the shore; And Allan strained his anxious eye, Far mid the lake his form to spy. Darkening across each puny wave, 865 To which the moon her silver gave. Fast as the cormorant could skim, The swimmer plied each active limb; Then landing in the moonlight dell, Loud shouted of his weal to tell. 870 The Minstrel heard the far halloo, And joyful from the shore withdrew. 83 CANTO THIRD THE GATHERING Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, Who danced our infancy upon their knee, And told our marvelling boyhood legends store Of their strange ventures happed by land or sea, How are they blotted from the things that be ! 5 How few, all weak and withered of their force. Wait on the verge of dark eternity, Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse. To sweep them from our sight! Time rolls his cease- less course. Yet live there still who can remember well, lo How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew, Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell. And solitary heath, the signal knew ; And fast the faithful clan around him drew. What time the warning note was keenly wound, 1 5 What time aloft their kindred banner flew, While clamorous war-pipes yelled the gathering sound, And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like a meteor, round. II The Summer dawn's reflected hue To purple changed Loch Katrine blue ; 20 Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy. Trembled but dimpled not for joy : The mountain-shadows on her breast 25 Were neither broken nor at rest; Lady of the Lake In bright uncertainty they He, Like future joys to Fancy's eye, The water-Hly to the Hght Her chaHce reared of silver bright ; 30 The doe awoke, and to the lawn, Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fawn ; The gray mist left the mountain-side, The torrent showed its glistening pride ; Invisible in flecked sky 35 The lark sent down her revelry ; The blackbird and the speckled thrush Good-morrow gave from brake and bush; In answer cooed the cushat dove Her notes of peace and rest and love. 40 III No thought of peace, no thought of rest, Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast. With sheathed broadsword in his hand, Abrupt he paced the islet strand, And eyed the rising sun, and laid 45 His hand on his impatient blade. Beneath a rock, his vassals' care Was prompt the ritual to prepare, With deep and deathful meaning fraught; For such Antiquity had taught 50 Was preface meet, ere yet abroad The Cross of Fire should take its road. The shrinking band stood oft aghast At the impatient glance he cast ; — Such glance the mountain eagle threw, 55 As, from the cliffs of Benvenue, She spread her dark sails on the wind. And, high in middle heaven reclined. With her broad shadow on the lake. Silenced the warblers of the brake. 60 85 Lady of the Lake IV A heap of withered boughs was piled, Of juniper and rowan wild, Mingled with shivers from the oak, Rent by the lightning's recent stroke. Brian the Hermit by it stood, 65 Barefooted, in his frock and hood. His grizzled beard and matted hair Obscured a visage of despair ; His naked arms and legs, seamed o'er, The scars of frantic penance bore. 70 That monk, of savage form and face, The impending danger of his race Had drawn from deepest solitude, Far in Benharrow's bosom rude. Not' his the mien of Christian priest, 75 But Druid's, from the grave released. Whose hardened heart and eye might brook On human sacrifice to look; And much, 'twas said, of heathen lore Mixed in the charms he muttered o'er. 80 The hallowed creed gave only worse And 'deadlier emphasis of curse. No peasant sought that Hermit's prayer, His cave the pilgrim shunned with care ; The eager huntsman knew his bound, 85 And in mid chase called off his hound ; Or if, in lonely glen or strath. The desert-dweller met his path, He prayed, and signed the cross between, While terror took devotion's mien. 90 V Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. His mother watched a midnight fold, Built deep within a dreary glen, 86 Lady of the Lake Where scattered lay the bones of men In some forgotten battle slain, 95 And bleached by drifting wind and rain. It might have tamed a warrior's heart To view such mockery of his art ! The knot-grass fettered there the hand Which once could burst an iron band; 100 Beneath the broad and ample bone, That bucklered heart to fear unknown, A feeble and a timorous guest, The fieldfare framed her lowly nest; There the slow blindworm left his slime 105 On the fleet limbs that mocked at time ; And there, too, lay the leader's skull. Still wreathed with chaplet, flushed and full, For heath-bell with her purple bloom Supplied the bonnet and the plume. no All night, in this sad glen, the maid Sat shrouded in her mantle's shade : She said no shepherd sought her side, No hunter's hand her snood untied. Yet ne'er again to braid her hair 115 The virgin snood did Alice wear; Nor sought she, from that fatal night, Or holy church or blessed rite. But locked her secret in her breast. And died in travail, unconfessed. 120 VI Alone, among his young compeers, Was Brian from his infant years ; A moody and heart-broken boy, 125 Estranged from sympathy and joy. Bearing each taunt which careless tongue On his mysterious lineage flung. Whole nights he spent by moonlight pale, 87 Lady of the Lake To wood and stream his hap to wail, 130 Till, frantic, he as truth received What of his birth the crowd believed, And sought, in mist and meteor fire. To meet and know his Phantom Sire! In vain, to soothe his wayward fate, 135 The cloister oped her pitying gate ; In vain the learning of the age Unclasped the sable-lettered page ; Even in its treasures he could find Food for the fever of his mind. 140 Eager he read whatever tells Of magic, cabala, and spells. And every dark pursuit allied To curious and presumptuous pride ; Till with fired brain and nerves o'erstrung, 145 And heart with mystic horrors wrung, Desperate he sought Benharrow's den, And hid him from the haunts of men. VII The desert gave him visions wild. Such as might suit the spectre's child. 150 Where with black cliffs the torrents toil, He watched the wheeling eddies boil, Till from their foam his dazzled eyes Beheld the River Demon rise: The mountain mist took form and limb 155 Of noontide hag or goblin grim ; The midnight wind came wild and dread, Swelled with the voices of the dead ; Far on the future battle-heath His eye beheld the ranks of death : 160 Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurled, Shaped forth a disembodied world. 88 Lady of the Lake One lingering sympathy of mind Still bound him to the mortal kind; The only parent he could claim 165 Of ancient Alpine's lineage came. Late had he heard, in prophet's dream, The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream ; Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast Of charging steeds, careering fast 170 Along Benharrow's shingly side. Where mortal horseman ne'er might ride; The thunderbolt had split the pine, — All augured ill to Alpine's line. He girt his loins, and came to show 175 The signals of impending woe, And now stood prompt to bless or ban, As bade the Chieftain of his clan. VIII Twas all prepared ; — and from the rock A goat, the patriarch of the flock, 180 Before the kindling pile was laid. And pierced by Roderick's ready blade. Patient the sickening victim eyed The life-blood ebb in crimson tide Down his clogged beard and shaggy limb, 185 Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim. The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, A slender crosslet framed with care, A cubit's length in measure due ; The shaft and limbs were rods of yew, 190 Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave. And, answering Lomond's breezes deep. Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep. The Cross thus formed he held on high, 195 89 Lady of the Lake With wasted hand and haggard eye, And strange and mingled feelings woke, While his anathema he spoke : — IX " Woe to the clansman who shall view This symbol of sepulchral yew, JOO Forgetful that its branches grew Where weep the heavens their holiest dew On Alpine's dwelling low ! Deserter of his Chieftain's trust, He ne'er shall mingle with their dust, 205 But, from his sires and kindred thrust. Each clansman's execration just Shall doom him wrath and woe." He paused ; — the word the vassals took, With forward step and fiery look, 210 On high their naked brands they shook, Their clattering targets wildly strook; And first in murmur low, Then, like the billow in his course, That far to seaward finds his source, 215 And flings to shore his mustered force. Burst with loud roar their answer hoarse, " Woe to the traitor, woe ! " Ben-an's gray scalp the accents knew, The joyous wolf from covert drew, 220 The exulting eagle screamed afar, — They knew the voice of Alpine's war. X The shout was hushed on lake and fell; The Monk resumed his muttered spell : Dismal and low its accents came, 225 The while he scathed the Cross with flame ; 90 Lady of the Lake And the few words that reached the air, Although the holiest name was there, Had more of blasphemy than prayer. But when he shook above the crowd 230 Its kindled points, he spoke aloud : — " Woe to the wretch who fails to rear At this dread sign the ready spear! For, as the flames this symbol sear, His home, the refuge of his fear, 235 A kindred fate shall know ; Far o'er its roof the volumed flame Clan-Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim, While maids and matrons on his name Shall call down wretchedness and shame, 240 And infamy and woe." Then rose the cry of females, shrill As goshawk's whistle on the hill. Denouncing misery and ill, Mingled with childhood's babbling trill 245 Of curses stammered slow ; Answering with imprecation dread, " Sunk be his home in embers red ! And cursed be the meanest shed That e'er shall hide the houseless head 250 We doom to want and woe ! " A sharp and shrieking echo gave, Coir-Uriskin,. thy goblin cave ! And the gray pass where birches wave On Beala-nam-bo. 255 XI Then deeper paused the priest anew. And hard his laboring breath he drew, While, with set teeth and clenched hand. And eyes that glowed like fiery brand, He meditated curse more dread, 260 91 Lady of the Lake And deadlier, on the clansman's head Who, summoned to his chieftain's aid, The signal saw and disobeyed. The crosslet's points of sparkling wood He quenched among the bubbling blood, 265 And, as again the sign he reared, Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard : " When flits this Cross from man to man, Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan, Burst be the ear that fails to heed 1 270 Palsied the foot that shuns to speed ! May ravens tear the careless eyes. Wolves make the coward heart their prize ! As sinks that blood-stream in the earth. So may his heart's-blood drench his hearth ! 275 As dies in hissing gore the spark, Quench thou his light, Destruction dark ! And be the grace to him denied, Bought by this sign to all beside ! '* He ceased ; no echo gave again 280 The murmur of the deep Amen. XII Then Roderick with impatient look From Brian's hand the symbol took : " Speed, Malise, speed ! " he said, and gave The crosslet to his henchman brave. 285 *' The muster-place be Lanrick mead — Instant the time — speed, Malise, speed ! " Like heath-bird, when the hawks pursue, A barge across Loch Katrine flew : High stood the henchman on the prow ; 290 So rapidly the barge-men row. The bubbles, where they launched the.boat, Were all unbroken and afloat. Dancing in foam and ripple still, 92 Lady of the Lake When it had neared the mainland hill ; 295 And from the silver beach's side Still was the prow three fathom wide, When lightly bounded to the land The messenger of blood and brand. XIII Speed, Malise, speed ! the dun deer's hide 300 On fleeter foot was never tied. Speed, Malise, speed ! such cause of haste Thine active sinews never braced. Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast, Burst down like torrent from its crest ; 305 With short and springing footstep pass The trembling bog and false morass ; Across the brook like roebuck bound, And thread the brake like questing hound ; The crag is high, the scaur is deep, 310 Yet shrink not from the desperate leap: Parched are thy burning lips and brow, Yet by the fountain pause not now ; -i Herald of battle, fate, and fear. Stretch onward in thy fleet career! 315 The wounded hind thou track'st not now, Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough, Nor pliest thou now thy flying pace With rivals in the mountain race ; But danger, death, and warrior deed 320 Are in thy course — speed, Malise, speed ! XIV Fast as the fatal symbol flies, In arms the huts and hamlets rise ; From winding glen, from upland brown, They poured each hardy tenant down. 325 Nor slacked the messenger his pace; 93 Lady of the Lake He showed the sign, he named the place. And, pressing forward Hke the wind, Left clamor and surprise behind. The fisherman forsook the strand, 330 The swarthy smith took dirk and brand ; With changed cheer, the mower blithe Left in the half -cut swath his scythe ; The herds without a keeper strayed, The plough was in mid-furrow stayed, 335 The falconer tossed his hawk away. The hunter left the stag at bay ; Prompt at the signal of alarms, Each son of Alpine rushed to arms ; So swept the tumult and affray 340 Along the margin of Achray. Alas, thou lovely lake ! that e'er Thy banks should echo sounds of fear! The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep So stilly on thy bosom deep, 345 The lark's blithe carol from the cloud Seems for the scene too gayly loud. XV Speed, Malise, speed ! The lake is past, Duncraggan's huts appear at last. And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen, 350 Half hidden in the copse so green ; There mayst thou rest, thy labor done, Their lord shall speed the signal on. — As stoops the hawk upon his prey, The henchman shot him down the way. 355 What woful accents load the gale? The funeral yell, the female wail 1 A gallant hunter's sport is o'er, A valiant warrior fights no more. Who, in the battle or the chase, 360 94 Lady of the Lake At Roderick's side shall fill his place ! — Within the hall, where torch's ray Supplies the excluded beams of day, Lies Duncan on his lowly bier, And o'er him streams his widow's tear. 365 His stripling son stands mournful by, His youngest weeps, but knows not why ; The village maids and matrons round The dismal coronach resound. XVI CORONACH He is gone on the mountain, 370 He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain. When our need was the sorest. The font, reappearing. From the rain-drops shall borrow, 375 But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper 380 Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing. When blighting was nearest. 385 Fleet foot on the correi. Sage counsel in cumber, Red hand in the foray. How sound is thy slumber! 95 Lady of the Lake Like the dew on the mountain, 390 Like the foam on the river, Like the bubble on the fountain. Thou art gone, and forever! XVII See Stumah, who, the bier beside, His master's corpse with wonder eyed, 395 Poor Stumah ! whom his least halloo Could send like lightning o'er the dew, Bristles his crest, and points his ears. As if some stranger step he hears. 'Tis not a mourner's muffled tread, 400 Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead, But headlong haste or deadly fear Urge the precipitate career. All stand aghast : — unheeding all, The henchman bursts into the hall ; 405 Before the dead man's bier he stood, Held forth the Cross besmeared with blood; " The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; Speed forth the signal ! clansmen, speed ! " XVIIT Angus, the heir of Duncan's line, . 410 Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. In haste the stripling to his side His father's dirk and broadsword tied; But when he saw his mother's eye Watch him in speechless agony, 415 Back to her opened arms he flew, Pressed on her lips a fond adieu, — " Alas ! " she sobbed, — '' and yet be gone, And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son ! " One look he cast upon the bier, 420 96 Lady of the Lake Dashed from his eye the gathering tear, Breathed deep to clear his laboring breast, And tossed aloft his bonnet crest, Then, like the high-bred colt when, freed, First he essays his lire and speed, 425 He vanished, and o'er moor and moss Sped forward with the Fiery Cross. Suspended was the widow's tear While yet his footsteps she could hear; And when she marked the henchman's eye 430 Wet with unwonted sympathy, " Kinsman," she said, " his race is run That should have sped thine errand on ; The oak has fallen, — the sapling bough Is all Duncraggan's shelter now. 435 Yet trust I well, his duty done. The orphan's God will guard my son. — And you, in many a danger true. At Duncan's best your blades that drew. To arms, and guard that orphan's head ! 440 Let babes and women wail the dead." Then weapon-clang and martial call Resounded through the funeral hall. While from the walls the attendant band Snatched sword and targe with hurried hand 445 And short and flitting energy Glanced from the mourner's sunken eye, As if the sounds to warrior dear Might rouse her Duncan from his bier. But faded soon that borrowed force ; 450 Grief claimed his right, and tears their course. XIX Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire. O'er dale and hill the summons flew, 7 97 Lady of the Lake Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew; 455 The tear that gathered in his eye He left the mountain-breeze to dry ; Until, where Teith's young waters roll Betwixt him and a wooded knoll That graced the sable strath with green, 460 The chapel of Saint Bride was seen. Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge, But Angus paused not on the edge ; Though the dark waves danced dizzily. Though reeled his sympathetic eye, 465 He dashed amid the torrent's roar: His right hand high the crosslet bore, His left the pole ax grasped, to guide And stay his footing in the tide. He stumbled twice, — the foam splashed high, 470 With hoarser swell the stream raced by ; And had he fallen, — forever there, Farewell Duncraggan's orphan heir! But still, as if in parting life, Firmer he grasped the Cross of strife, 475 Until the opposing bank he gained, And up the chapel pathway strained. XX A blithesome rout that morning-tide Had sought the chapel of Saint Bride. Her troth Tombea's Mary gave 480 To Norman, heir of Armandave, And, issuing from the Gothic arch, The bridal now resumed their march. In rude but glad procession came Bonneted sire and coif-clad dame ; 485 And plaided youth, with jest and jeer. Which snooded maiden would not hear; 98 Lady of the Lake And children, that, unwitting why, Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry; And minstrels, that in measures vied 490 Before the young and bonny bride, Whose downcast eye and cheek disclose The tear and blush of morning rose. With virgin step and bashful hand She held the kerchief's snowy band. 495 The gallant bridegroom by her side Beheld his prize with victor's pride, And the glad mother in her ear W^as closely whispering word of cheer. XXI Who meets them at the churchyard gate ? 500 The messenger of fear and fate ! Haste in his hurried accent lies, And grief is swimming in his eyes. All dripping from the recent flood. Panting and travel-soiled he stood, 505 The fatal sign of fire and sword Held forth, an\d spoke the appointed word : " The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; Speed forth the signal ! Norman, speed ! " And must he change so soon the hand 510 Just linked to his by holy band, For the fell Cross of blood and brand? And must the day so blithe that rose, And promised rapture in the close. Before its setting hour, divide 515 The bridegroom from the plighted bride? O fatal doom ! — it must ! it must ! Clan-Alpine's cause, her Chieftain's trust, Her summons dread, brook no delay ; Stretch to the race, — away ! away ! 520 99 Lady of the Lake XXII Yet slow he laid his plaid aside, And lingering eyed his lovely bride, Until he saw the starting tear Speak woe he might not stop to cheer ; Then, trusting not a second look, 525 In haste he sped him up the brook. Nor backward glanced till on the heath Where Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teith. — What in the racer's bosom stirred? The sickening pang of hope deferred, 530 And memory with a torturing train Of all his morning visions vain. Mingled with love's impatience, came The manly thirst for martial fame; The stormy joy of mountaineers 535 Ere yet they rush upon the spears ; And zeal for Clan and Chieftain burning, And hope, from well-fought field returning, With war's red honors on his crest. To clasp his Mary to his breast. 540 Stung by such thoughts, o'er bank and brae, Like fire from flint he glanced away. While high resolve and feeling strong Burst into voluntary song. XXIII SONG The heath this night must be my bed, 545 The bracken curtain for my head. My lullaby the warder's tread. Far, far, from love and thee, Mary. To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, My couch may be my bloody plaid, 550 My vesper song thy wail, sweet maid ! It will not waken me, Mary! 100 Lady of the Lake I may not, dare not, fancy now The grief that clouds thy lovely brow; I dare not think upon thy vow, 555 And all it promised me, Mary. No fond regret must Norman know ; When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe, His heart must be like bended bow, His foot like arrow free, Mary. 560 A time will come with feeling fraught, For, if I fall in battle fought, Thy hapless lover's dying thought Shall be a thought on thee, Mary. And if returned from conquered foes, 565 How blithely will the evening close, How sweet the linnet sing repose. To my young bride and me, Mary ! XXIV Not faster o'er thy heathery braes, Balquidder, speeds the midnight blaze, 570 Rushing in conflagration strong Thy deep ravines and dells along. Wrapping thy cliffs in purple glow. And reddening the dark lakes below ; Nor faster speeds it, nor so far, 575 As o'er thy heaths the voice of war. The signal roused to martial coil The sullen margin of Loch Voil, Waked still Loch Doine, and to the source Alarmed, Balvaig, thy swampy course ; 580 Thence southward turned its rapid road Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad. Till rose in arms each man might claim A portion in Clan- Alpine's name, Lady of the Lake From the gray sire, whose trembhng hand 585 Could hardly buckle on his brand, To the raw boy, whose shaft and bow Were yet scarce terror to the crow. Each valley, each sequestered glen, Mustered its little horde of men, 590 That met as torrents from the height In Highland dales their streams unite, Still gathering, as they pour along, A voice more loud, a tide more strong, Till at the rendezvous they stood 595 By hundreds prompt for blows and blood, Each trained to arms since life began, Owning no tie but to his clan. No oath but by his chieftain's hand. No law but Roderick Dhu's command. 600 XXV That summer morn had Roderick Dhu Surveyed the skirts of Benvenue, And sent his scouts o'er hill and heath, To view the frontiers of Menteith. All backward came with news of truce ; 605 Still lay each martial Graeme and Bruce, In Rednock courts no horsemen wait, No banner waved on Cardross gate. On Duchray's towers no beacon shone. Nor scared the herons from Loch Con ; 610 All seemed at peace. — Now wot ye why The Chieftain with such anxious eye. Ere to the muster he repair. This western frontier scanned with care? — ' In Benvenue's most darksome cleft, 615 A fair though cruel pledge was left; For Douglas, to his promise true, 102 Lady of the Lake That morning from the isle withdrew, And in a deep sequestered dell Had sought a low and lonely cell. 620 By many a bard in Celtic tongue Has Coir-nan-Uriskin been sung; A softer name the Saxons gave, And called the grot the Goblin Cave. XXVI It was a wild and strange retreat, 625 As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet. The dell, upon the mountain's crest. Yawned like a gash on warrior's breast ; Its trench had stayed full many a rock. Hurled by primeval earthquake shock 630 From Benvenue's gray summit wild, And here, in random ruin piled. They frowned incumbent o'er the spot, And formed the rugged sylvan grot. The oak and birch with mingled shade 635 At noontide there a twilight made, Unless when short and sudden shone Some straggling beam on cliff or stone, With such a glimpse as prophet's eye Gains on thy depth, Futurity. 640 No murmur waked the solemn still, Save tinkling of a fountain rill ; But when the wind chafed with the lake, A sullen sound would upward break, With dashing hollow voice, that spoke 645 The incessant war of wave and rock. Suspended cliffs with hideous sway Seemed nodding o'er the cavern gray. From such a den the wolf had sprung, In such the wildcat leaves her young ; 650 103 Lady of the Lake Yet Douglas and his daughter fair Sought for a space their safety there. Gray Superstition's whisper dread Debarred the spot to vulgar tread ; For there, she said, did fays resort, 655 And satyrs hold their sylvan court, By moonlight tread their mystic maze, And blast the rash beholder's gaze. XXVII Now eve, with western shadows long, Floated on Katrine bright and strong, 660 When Roderick with a chosen few Repassed the heights of Benvenue. Above the Goblin cave they ^o. Through the wild pass of Beal-nam-bo; The prompt retainers speed before, 665 To launch the shallop from the shore. For 'cross Loch Katrine lies his way To view the passes of Achray, And place his clansmen in array. Yet lags the Chief in musing mind, 670 Unwonted sight, his men behind. A single page, to bear his sword, Alone attended on his lord; The rest their way through thickets break, And soon await him by the lake. 675 It was a fair and gallant sight, Tof view them from the neighboring height, By the low-levelled sunbeam's light ! For strength and stature, from the clan Each warrior was a chosen man 680 As even afar might well be seen. By their proud step and martial mien. Their feathers dance, their tartans float, Their targets gleam, as by the boat 104 Lady of the Lake A wild and warlike group they stand, 685 That well became such mountain-strand. XXVIII Their Chief with step reluctant still Was lingering on the cragg}'^ hill, Hard by where turned apart the road To Douglas's obscure abode. 690 It was but with that dawning morn That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn To drown his love in war's wild roar. Nor think of Ellen Douglas more ; But he who stems a stream with sand, 695 And fetters flame with flaxen band. Has yet a harder task to prove, — By firm resolve to conquer love ! Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost, Still hovering near his treasure lost ; 700 For though his haughty heart deny A parting meeting to his eye. Still fondly strains his anxious ear The accents of her voice to hear, And inly did he curse the breeze 705 That waked to sound the rustling trees. But hark ! what mingles in the strain ? It is the harp of Allan-bane, That wakes its measure slow and high, Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. 710 What melting voice attends the strings ? 'T is Ellen, or an angel, sings. XXIX HYMN TO THE VIRGIN Ave Maria ! maiden mild ! Listen to a maiden's prayer! 105 Lady of the Lake Thou canst hear though from the wild, 715 Thou canst save amid despair. Safe may we sleep beneath thy care, Though banished, outcast, and reviled — Maiden ! hear a maiden's prayer ; Mother, hear a suppliant child ! 720 Ave Maria! Ave Maria! undefiled! The flinty couch we now must share Shall seem with down of eider piled. If thy protection hover there. The murky cavern's heavy air Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled ; 725 Then, Maiden ! hear a maiden's prayer, Mother, list a suppliant child! Ave Maria! Ave Maria! stainless styled ! Foul demons of the earth and air, 730 From this their wonted haunt exiled. Shall flee before thy presence fair. We bow us to our lot of care. Beneath thy guidance reconciled : Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer, 735 And for a father hear a child ! Ave Maria! XXX Died on the harp the closing hymn, — Unmoved in attitude and limb, As listening still, Clan-Alpine's lord Stood leaning on his heavy sword, 740 Until the page with humble sign , Twice pointed to the sun's decline. 106 Lady of the Lake Then while his plaid he round him cast, " It is the last time — 't is the last," He muttered thrice, — " the last time e'er 745 That angel-voice shall Roderick hear ! " It was a goading thought, — his stride Hied hastier down the mountain-side ; Sullen he flung him in the boat, An instant 'cross the lake it shot. 750 They landed in that silvery bay. And eastward held their hasty way, Till, vvrith the latest beams of light, The band arrived on Lanrick height. Where mustered in the vale below 755 Clan-Alpine's men in martial show. XXXI A various scene the clansmen made : Some sat, some stood, some slowly strayed, But most, with mantles folded round, Were couched to rest upon the ground, 760 Scarce to be known by curious eye From the deep heather where they lie, So well was matched the tartan screen With heath-bell dark and brackens green; Unless where, here and there, a blade 765 Or lance's point a glimmer made. Like glow-worm twinkling through the shade. But when, advancing through the gloom, They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume, Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, 770 Shook the steep mountain's steady side. Thrice it arose, and lake and fell. Three times returned the martial yell ; It died upon Bochastle's plain. And Silence claimed her evening reign. 775 107 CANTO FOURTH THE PROPHECY I " The rose is fairest when 't is budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears ; The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew, And love is loveHest when embalmed in tears. O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, 5 I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave, Emblem of hope and love through future years ! " Thus spoke young Norman, heir of Armandave, What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad wave. II Such fond conceit, half said, half sung, lO Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue. All while he stripped the wild-rose spray. His ax and bow beside him lay. For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood A wakeful sentinel he stood. 15 Hark ! — on the rock a footstep rung, And instant to his arms he sprung. - " Stand, or thoii diest ! — What, Malise ? — soon Art thou returned from Braes of Doune. By thy keen step and glance I know, 20 Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe." — For while the Fiery Cross hied on, On distant scout had Malise gone. — " Where sleeps the Chief ? " the henchman said. " Apart, in yonder misty glade ; 25 To his lone couch I'll be your guide." — Then called a slumberer by his side, 108 Lady of the Lake And stirred him with his slackened bow, — " Up, up, Glentarkin ! rouse thee, ho ! We seek the Chieftain ; on the track 30 Keep eagle watch till I come back." Ill Together up the pass they sped : " What of the f oeman ? " Norman said. — " Varying reports from near and far; This certain, — that a band of war 35 Has for two days been ready boune. At prompt command to march from Doune ; King James the while, with princely powers, Holds revelry in Stirling towers. Soon will this dark and gathering cloud 40 Speak on our glens in thunder loud. Inured to bide such bitter bout. The warrior's plaid may bear it out ; But Norman, how wilt thou provide A shelter for thy bonny bride ? " — 45 " What ! know ye not that Roderick's care To the lone isle hath caused repair Each maid and matron of the clan, And every child and aged man Unfit for arms ; and given his charge, 50 Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge. Upon these lakes shall float at large. But all beside the islet moor. That such dear pledge may rest secure ? " — IV " 'T is well advised, — The Chieftain's plan 55 Bespeaks the father of his clan. But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu Apart from all his followers true? " 109 Lady of the Lake " It is because last evening-tide Brian an augury hath tried, Of that dread kind which must not be Unless in dread extremity, The Taghairm called ; by which, afar, Our sires foresaw the events of war. Duncraggan's milk-white bull they slew," — MALISE " Ah ! well the gallant brute I knew ! The choicest of the prey we had When swept our merrymen Gallangad. His hide was snow, his horns were dark, His red eye glowed like fiery spark ; So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, Sore did he cumber our retreat, And kept our stoutest kerns in awe, Even at the pass of Beal 'maha. But steep and flinty was the road, And sharp the hurrying pikeman's goad, And when we came to Dennan's Row A child might scathless stroke his brow." NORMAN ** That bull was slain ; his reeking hide They stretched the cataract beside. Whose waters their wild tumult toss Adown the black and craggy boss Of that huge cliff whose ample verge Tradition calls the Hero's Targe Couched on a shelf beneath its brink. Close where the thundering torrents sink, Rocking beneath their headlong sway, no Lady of the Lake And drizzled by the ceaseless spray, Midst groan of rock and roar of stream, The wizard waits prophetic dream. 90 Nor distant rests the Chief ; — but hush ! See, gliding slow through mist and bush, The hermit gains yon rock, and stands To gaze upon our slumbering bands. Seems he not, Malise, like a. ghost, 95 That hovers o'er a slaughtered host? Or raven on the blasted oak, That, watching while the deer is broke, His morsel claims with sullen croak ? " MALISE " Peace ! peace ! to other than to me 100 Thy words were evil augury; But still I hold Sir Roderick's blade Clan-Alpine's omen and her aid. Not aught that, gleaned from heaven or hell, You fiend-begotten Monk can tell. 105 The Chieftain joins him, see — and now Together they descend the brow." VI And, as they came, with Alpine's Lord The Hermit Monk held solemn word : — "Roderick! it is a fearful strife, no For man endowed with mortal life. Whose shroud of sentient clay can still Feel feverish pang and fainting chill. Whose eye can stare in stony trance. Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lance, — 115 'Tis hard for such to view, unfurled, The curtain of the future world. Yet, witness every quaking limb, My sunken pulse, mine eyeballs dim, III Lady of the Lake My soul with harrowing anguish torn, 120 This for my Chieftain have I borne ! — The shapes that sought my fearful couch A human tongue may ne'er avouch ; No mortal man — save he, who, bred Between the living and the dead, 125 Is gifted beyond nature's law — Had e'er survived to say he saw. At length the fateful answer came In characters of living flame ! Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll, 130 But borne and branded on my soul : — Which spills the foremost foeman's life, That party conquers in the strife." VII " Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care ! Good is thine augury, and fair. 135 Clan-Alpine ne'er in battle stood But first our broadswords tasted blood. A surer victim still I know. Self-offered to the auspicious blow : A spy has sought my land this mom, — 140 No eve shall witness his return ! My followers guard each pass's mouth, To east, to westward, and to south ; Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide, Has charge to lead his steps aside, 145 Till in deep path or dingle brown He light on those shall bring him down. — But see, who comes his news to show ! Malise! what tidings of the foe? " 112 Lady of the Lake VIII " At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive 150 Two Barons proud their banners wave. I saw the Moray's silver star, And marked the sable pale of Mar." "'By Alpine's soul, high tidings those! I love to hear of worthy foes. 155 When move they on ? " " To-morrow's noon Will see them here for battle boune." " Then shall it see a meeting stern ! But, for the place, — say, couldst thou learn Nought of the friendly clans of Earn? 160 Strengthened by them, we well might bide The battle on Benledi's side. Thou couldst not ? — well ! Clan-Alpine's men Shall man the Trosachs' shaggy glen ; ^ Within Loch Katrine's gorge we'll fight, 165 All in our maids' and matrons' sight Each for his hearth and household fire, Father for child, and son for sire. Lover for maid beloved ! — But why — Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? 170 Or dost thou come, ill-omened tear! A messenger of doubt or fear? No ! sooner may the Saxon lance Unfix Benledi from his stance, Than doubt or terror can pierce through 175 The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu ! 'T is stubborn as his trusty targe. Each to his post ! — all know their charge." The pibroch sounds, the bands advance. The broadswords gleam, the banners dance, 180 Obedient to the Chieftain's glance. — I turn me from the martial roar. And seek Coir-Uriskin once more. 8 113 Lady of the Lake IX Where is the Douglas? — he is gone ; And Ellen sits on the gray stone 185 Fast by the cave, and makes her moan, While vainly Allan's words of cheer Are poured on her unheeding ear. *' He will return — dear lady, trust ! — With joy return ; — he will — he must. 190 Well was it time to seek afar Some refuge from impending war, When e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged swarm Are cowed by the approaching storm. I saw their boats with many a light 195 Floating the livelong yesternight, Shifting like flashes darted forth By the red streamers of the north ; I marked at morn how close they ride, Thick moored by the lone islet's side, 200 Like wild ducks couching in the fen When stoops the hawk upon the glen. Since this rude race dare not abide The peril on the mainland side, Shall not thy noble father's care 205 Some safe retreat for thee prepare?" ELLEN " No, Allan, no ! Pretext so kind My wakeful terrors could not blind. When in such tender tone, yet grave, Douglas a parting blessing gave, 210 The tear that glistened in his eye Drowned not his purpose fixed and high. My soul, though feminine and weak, Can image his ; e'en as the lake, 114 Lady of the Lake Itself disturbed by slightest stroke, 215 Reflects the invulnerable rock. He hears report of battle rife, He deems himself the cause of strife. I saw him redden when the theme Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream 220 Of Malcolm Graeme in fetters bound. Which I, thou saidst, about him wound. Think'st thou he trowed thine omen aught ? O no ! 'twas apprehensive thought For the kind youth, — for Roderick too — 225 Let me be just — that friend so true; In danger both, and in our cause ! Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause. Why else that solemn warning given, * If not on earth, w^e meet in heaven ! ' 230 Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane, If eve return him not again. Am I to hie and make me known ? Alas ! he goes to Scotland's throne. Buys his friends' safety with his own ; 235 He goes to do — what I had done, Had Douglas's daughter been his son ! " XI ** Nay, lovely Ellen ! — dearest, nay ! If aught should his return delay, He only named yon holy fane 240 As fitting place to meet again. Be sure he's safe ; and for the Graeme, — Heaven's blessing on his gallant name ! — My visioned sight may yet prove true. Nor bode of ill to him or you. 245 When did my gifted dream beguile? Think of the stranger at the isle, And think upon the harpings slow 115 Lady of the Lake That presaged this approaching woe ! Sooth was my prophecy of fear ; 250 Believe it when it augurs cheer. Would we had left this dismal spot ! Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot. Of such a wondrous tale I know — Dear lady, change that look of woe, 255 My harp was wont thy grief to cheer." ELLEN " Well, be it as thou wilt ; I hear. But cannot stop the bursting tear." The Minstrel tried his simple art, But distant far was Ellen's heart. 260 XII BALLAD ALICE BRAND Merry it is in the good greenwood, When the mavis and merle are singing, When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry. And the hunter's horn is ringing. " O Alice Brand, my native land 265 Is lost for love of you ; And we must hold by wood and wold. As outlaws wont to do. " O Alice, 't was all for thy locks so bright, And 't was all for thine eyes so blue, 270 That on the night of our luckless flight Thy brother bold I slew. 116 Lady of the Lake " Now must I teach to hew the beech The hand that held the glaive, For leaves to spread our lowly bed, 275 And stakes to fence our cave. " And for vest of pall, thy fingers small, That wont on harp to stray, A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer, To keep the cold away." 280 " O Richard ! if my brother died, 'Twas but a fatal chance ; For darkling was the battle tried, And fortune sped the lance. " If pall and vair no more 1 wear, 285 Nor thou the crimson sheen. As warm, we'll say, is the russet gray, As gay the forest-green. " And, Richard, if our lot be hard, And lost thy native land, 290 Still Alice has her own Richard, And he his Alice Brand." xin BALLAD CONTINUED 'T is merry, 't is merry, in good greenwood ; So blithe Lady Alice is singing; On the beech's pride, and oak's brown side, 295 Lord Richard's ax is ringing. Up spoke the moody Elfin King, Who woned within the hill, — Like wind in the porch of a ruined church, His voice was ghostly shrill. 300 117 Lady of the Lake '' Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak, Our moonHght circle's screen? Or who comes here to chase the deer, Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? Or who may dare on wold to wear 305 The fairies' fatal green? " Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie, For thou wert christened man ; For cross or sign thou wilt not fly, For muttered word or ban. 310 " Lay on him the curse of the withered heart, The curse of the sleepless eye ; Till he wish and pray that his life would part. Nor yet find leave to die." XIV BALLAD CONTINUED 'T is merry, 't is merry in good greenwood, 315 Though the birds have stilled their singing ; The evening blaze doth Alice raise. And Richard is fagots bringing. Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf. Before Lord Richard stands, 320 And, as he crossed and blessed himself, *' I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf, " That is made with bloody hands." But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, That woman void of fear, — 325 " And if there's blood upon his hand, 'T is but the blood of deer." 118 Lady of the Lake " Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood ! It cleaves unto his hand, The stain of thine own kindly blood, 330 The blood of Ethert Brand." Then forward stepped she, Alice Brand, And made the holy sign, — " And if there's blood on Richard's hand, A spotless hand is mine. 335 " And I conjure thee, demon elf, By Him whom demons fear, To show us whence thou art thyself, And what thine errand here ? " XV BALLAD CONTINUED " 'T is merry, 't is merry, in Fairy-land, 340 ^When fairy birds are singing, When the court doth ride by their monarch's side, With bit and bridle ringing: " And gaily shines the Fairy-land — But all is glistening show, 345 Like the idle gleam that December's beam Can dart on ice and snow. " And fading, like that varied gleam, Is our inconstant shape. Who now like knight and lady seem, 350 And now like dwarf and ape. " It was between the night and day, When the Fairy King has power. That I sunk down in a sinful fray, And 'twixt life and death was snatched away 355 To the joyless Elfin bower. 119 Lady of the Lake " But wist I of a woman bold, Who thrice my brow durst sign, I might regain my mortal mould, As fair a form as thine." 366 She crossed him once — she crossed him twice — That lady was so brave ; The fouler grew his goblin hue, The darker grew the cave. She crossed him thrice, that lady bold ; 365 He rose beneath her hand The fairest knight on Scottish mould, Her brother, Ethert Brand ! Merry it is in good greenwood, When the mavis and merle are singing, 370 But merrier were they in Dunfermline gray, When all the bells were ringing. XVI Just as the minstrel sounds were stayed, A stranger climbed the steepy glade ; His martial step, his stately mien, 375 His hunting-suit of Lincoln green, His eagle glance, remembrance claims — 'T is Snowdoun's Knight, 't is James Fitz-James. Ellen beheld as in a dream, Then, starting, scarce suppressed a scream : 380 " O stranger ! in such hour of fear What evil hap has brought thee here ? " " An evil hap how can it be That bids me look again on thee? By promise bound, my former guide 385 Met me betimes this morning-tide, And marshalled over bank and bourne 120 Lady of the Lake The happy path of my return." ** The happy path ! — what ! said he naught Of war, of battle to be fought, 390 Of guarded pass ? " " No, by my faith ! Nor saw I aught could augur scathe." " O haste thee, Allan, to the kern : Yonder his tartans I discern ; Learn thou his purpose, and conjure 395 That he will guide the stranger sure ! — What prompted thee, unhappy man ? The meanest serf in Roderick's clan Had not been bribed, by love or fear Unknown to him to guide thee here." 400 XVII *' Sweet Ellen, dear my life must be, Since it is worthy care from thee ; Yet life I hold but idle breath When love or honor's weighed with death. Then let me profit by my chance, 405 And speak my purpose bold at once. I come to hear thee from a wild Where ne'er before such blossom smiled, By this soft hand to lead thee far From frantic scenes of feud and war. 410 Near Bochastle my horses wait ; They bear us soon to Stirling gate. I'll place thee in a lovely bower, I'll guard thee like a tender flower — " *' O hush, Sir Knight, 't were female art, 415 To say I do not read thy heart ; Too much, before, my ^Ifish ear Was idly soothed my praise to hear. That fatal bait hath lured thee back, In deathf ul hour, o'er dangerous track ; 420 121 Lady of the Lake And how, O how, can I atone The wreck my vanity" brought on ! — One way remains — I'll tell him all — Yes ! struggling bosom, forth it shall ! Thou, whose light folly bears the blame, 425 Buy thine own pardon with thy shame! But first — my father is a man Outlawed and exiled, under ban ; The price of blood is on his head, With me 't were infamy to wed. 430 Still wouldst thou speak ? — then hear the truth ! Fitz-James, there is a noble youth — If yet he is ! — exposed for me And mine to dread extremity — Thou hast the secret of my heart ; 435 Forgive, be generous, and depart ! " XVIII Fitz-James knew every wily train A lady's fickle heart to gain. But here he knew and felt them vain. There shot no glance from Ellen's eye, 440 To give her steadfast speech the lie ; In maiden confidence she stood, Though mantled in her cheek the blood, And told her love with such a sigh Of deep and hopeless agony, 445 As death had sealed her Malcolm's doom And she sat sorrowing on his tomb. Hope vanished from Fitz-James's eye, But not with hope fled sympathy. He proffered to attend her side, 450 As brother would a sister guide. " O little know'st thou Roderick's heart ! Safer for both we go apart. 122 Lady of the Lake O haste thee, and from Allan learn, If thou mayst trust yon wily kern." 455 With hand upon his forehead laid, The conflict of his mind to shade, A parting step or two he made ; Then, as some thought had crossed his brain, He paused, and turned, and came again. 460 XIX " Hear, lady, yet a parting word ! — It chanced in fight that my poor sword Preserved the life of Scotland's lord. This ring the grateful Monarch gave, And bade, when I had boon to crave, 465 To bring it back, and boldly claim The recompense that I would name. Ellen, I am no courtly lord, But one who lives by lance and sword, Whose castle is his helm and shield, 470 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. 475 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, 48J Paused — kissed her hand — and then was gone. The aged Minstrel stood aghast, So hastily Fitz-James shot past. He joined his guide, and wending down The ridges of the mountain brown, 485 Across the stream they took their way That joins Loch Katrine to Achray. 123 Lady of the Lake XX All in the Trosachs' glen was still, Noontide was sleeping on the hill : Sudden his guide whooped loud and high — 490 " Murdoch ! was that a signal cry? " — He stammered forth, " I shout to scare Yon raven from his dainty fare." He looked — he knew the raven's prey, His own brave steed : *' Ah ! gallant gray ! 495 For thee — for me, perchance — 'twere well We ne'er had seen the Trosachs' dell. — Murdoch, move first — but silently ; Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die ! " Jealous and sullen on they fared, 500 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, 505 In tattered weeds and wild array. Stood on a cliff beside the way. And, glancing round her restless eye, Upon the wood, the rock, the sky, Seemed naught to mark, yet all to spy. 510 Her brow was wreathed with gaudy broom ; With gesture wild she waved a plume Of feathers, which the eagles fling To crag and cliff from dusky wing; Such spoils her desperate step had sought, 515 Where scarce was footing for the goat. The tartan plaid she first descried, And shrieked till all the rocks replied ; As loud she laughed when near they drew, 124 Lady of the Lake For then the Lowland garb she knew ; 520 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 strained and roughened, still 525 Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill. XXII SONG They bid me sleep, they bid me pray. They say my brain is warped and wrung — I cannot sleep on Highland brae, I cannot pray in Highland tongue. 530 But were I now where Allan glides, Or heard my native Devan's tides, So sweetly would I rest, and pray That Heaven would close my wintry day! 'Twas thus my hair they bade me braid, 535 They made me to the church repair; It was my bridal morn, they said, And my true love would meet me there. But woe betide the cruel guile That drowned in blood the morning smile ! 540 And woe betide the fairy dream ! I only waked to sob and scream. XXIII " Who is this maid ? what means her lay ? She hovers o'er the hollow way, And flutters wide her mantle gray, 545 As the lone heron spreads his wing, By twilight, o'er a haunted spring." 125 Lady of the Lake " 'Tis Blanche of Devan," Murdoch said, '* A crazed and captive Lowland maid, Ta'en on the morn she was a bride, 550 When Roderick forayed Devan-side. The gay bridegroom resistance made, And felt our Chief's unconquered blade. I marvel she is now at large, But oft she 'scapes from Maudlin's charge. — 555 Hence, brain-sick fool ! " — He raised his bow : — " Now, if thou strik'st her but one blow, I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far As ever peasant pitched a bar ! " " Thanks, champion, thanks ! " the Maniac cried, 560 And pressed 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 I 565 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 stayed, Wave forth a banner fair and free, 570 Meet signal for their revelry." XXIV " Hush thee, poor maiden, and be still ! " " O ! thou look'st kindly, and I will. Mine eye has dried and wasted been, But still it loves the Lincoln green ; 575 And, though mine ear is all unstrung, Still, still it loves the Lowland tongue. For O my sweet William was forester true, He stole poor Blanche's heart away ! His coat it was all of the greenwood hue, 580 And so blithely he trilled the Lowland lay ! .126 Lady of the Lake " It was not that I meant to tell . . . But thou art wise and guessest well." Then, in a low and broken tone, And hurried note, the song went on. 585 Still on the Clansman fearfully She fixed her apprehensive eye, Then turned it on the Knight, and then Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen. XXV " The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set, — 590 Ever sing merrily, merrily ; The bows they bend, and the knives they whet. Hunters live so cheerily. " It was a stag, a stag of ten. Bearing its branches sturdily ; 595 He came stately down the glen, — Ever sing hardily, hardily. It was there he met with a wounded doe, She was bleeding deathf ully ; She warned him of the toils below, 600 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." 605 XXVI Fitz -James's mind was passion-tossed. When Ellen's hints and fears were lost ; But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought, And Blanche's song conviction brought. 127 Lady of the Lake Not like a stag that spies the snare, 6io But Hon 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. 615 The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest, And thrilled 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, 620 The fierce avenger is behind ! Fate judges of the rapid strife — The forfeit death — the prize is life ; Thy kindred ambush lies before, Close couched upon the heathery moor ; 625 Them couldst thou reach ! — it may not be — Thine ambushed kin thou ne'er shalt see, * The fiery Saxon gains on thee ! — Resistless speeds the deadly thrust, As lightning strikes the pine to dust ; 630 With foot and hand Fitz-James must strain Ere he can win his blade again. Bent o'er the fallen with falcon eye, He grimly smiled to see him die, Then slower wended back his way, 635 Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. xxvii She sat beneath the birchen tree. Her elbow resting on her knee; She had withdrawn the fatal shaft. And gazed on it, and feebly laughed ; 640 Her wreath of broom and feathers gray, Daggled with blood, beside her lay. The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried, — 128 Lady of the Lake " Stranger, it is in vain ! " she cried. " This hour of death has given me more 645 Of reason's powder than years before ; For, as these ebbing veins decay, My frenzied visions fade away. A helpless injured wretch I die, And something tells me in thine eye 650 That thou wert mine avenger born. Seest thou this tress? — O, still I've worn This little tress of yellow hair, Through danger, frenzy, and despair I It once was bright and clear as thine, 655 But blood and tears have dimmed its shine. I will not tell thee when 't was shred. Nor from what guiltless victim's head, — My brain would turn ! — but it shall wave Like plumage on thy helmet brave, 660 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 honored sign, 665 And for thy life preserved by mine, When thou shalt see a darksome man, Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's Clan, With tartans broad and shadowy plume. And hand of blood, and brow of gloom, 670 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 . . . 0*God! . . . farewell." XXVIII A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James ; 675 Fast poured his eyes at pity's claims ; And now, with mingled grief and ire, 9 129 Lady of the Lake He saw the murdered maid expire. " God, in my need, be my relief, As I wreak this on yonder Chief ! " 680 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 : " By Him whose word is truth, I swear, 685 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 halloo ? The chase is up, — but they shall know, 690 The stag at bay's a dangerous foe." Barred from the known but guarded way, Through copse and clififs Fitz-James must stray, And oft must change his desperate track, By stream and precipice turned back. 695 Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length. From lack of food and loss of strength. He couched him in a thicket hoar. And thought his toils and perils o'er : — " Of all my rash adventures past, 700 This frantic feat must prove the last! Who e'er so mad but might have guessed That all this Highland hornet's nest. Would muster up in swarms so soon As e'er they heard of bands at Doune ? — 705 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 f oe : I'll couch me here till evening gray, 710 Then darkling try my dangerous way." 130 Lady of the Lake 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; 71 5 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, 720 He climbs the crag and threads the brake ; And not the summer solstice there Tempered the midnight mountain air, But every breeze that swept the wold Benumbed his drenched limbs with cold. 725 In dread, in danger, and alone, Famished and chilled, through ways unknown, Tangled and steep, he journeyed on; Till, as a rock's huge point he turned, A watch-fire close before him burned. 730 XXX Beside its embers red and clear, Basked in his plaid a mountaineer; And up he sprung with sword in hand, — " Thy name and purpose ! Saxon, stand ! " " A stranger." " What dost thou require? " 735 '' Rest and a guide, and food and fire. My life's beset, my path is lost, The gale has chilled my limbs with frost." " Art thou a friend to Roderick ? " " No." " Thou dar'st not call thyself a foe? " 740 " I dare ! to him and all the band He brings to aid his murderous hand," 131 Lady of the Lake " Bold words ! — but, though the beast of game The privilege of chase may claim, Though space and law the stag we lend, 745 Ere hound we slip or bow we bend, Who ever recked, where, how, or when. The prowling fox was trapped or slain? Thus treacherous scouts, — yet sure they lie, Who say thou cam'st a secret spy !" — 750 *' 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, 755 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." 760 XXXI He gave him of his Highland cheer. The hardened flesh of mountain deer; Dry fuel on the fire he laid, And bade the Saxon share his plaid. He tended him like welcome guest, 765 Then thus his further speech addressed: — " Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu A clansman born, a kinsman true; Each word against his honor spoke Demands of me avenging stroke ; 770 Yet more, — ^upon thy fate, 't is 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, 775 132 Lady of the Lake 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; A stranger is a holy name; 780 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, 785 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 ! " 790 " Well, rest thee ; for the bittern's cry Sings as the lake's wild lullaby." With that he shook the gathered heath, And spread his plaid upon the wreath ; And the brave foemen, side by side, 795 Lay peaceful down like brothers tried. And slept until the dawning beam Purpled the mountain and the stream. 133 CANTO FIFTH THE COMBAT I Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light, When first, by the bewildered 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, — 5 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, lo Was twinkling through the hazel screen, When, rousing at its glimmer red. The warriors left their lowly bed. Looked out upon the dappled sky, Muttered their soldier matins by, 15 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, 20 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, 25 And all the vales between that lie, Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky; 134 Lady of the Lake Then, sunk In copse, their farthest glance Gained not the length of horseman's lance. 'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 30 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! 35 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, 40 Beneath steep bank and threatening stone ; A hundred men might hold the post With hardihood against a host. The rugged mountain's scanty cloak Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak, 45 With shingles bare, and cliffs between. And patches bright and bracken green- And heather black, that waved so high. It held the copse in rivalry. But where the lake slept deep and still, 50 Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill; And oft both path and hill were torn. Where wintry torrent down had borne, And heaped upon the cumbered land Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. 55 So toilsome was the road to trace. The guide, abating of his pace. Led slowly through the pass's jaws. And asked Fitz-James by what strange cause He sought these wilds, traversed by few, 60 Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. 135 Lady of the Lake IV " Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, Hangs in my belt and by my side ; Yet, sooth to tell," the Saxon said, " I dreamt not now to claim its aid. 65 When here, but three days since, I came, Bewildered in pursuit of game. All seemed as peaceful and as still As the mist slumbering on yon hill ; Thy dangerous Chief was then afar, 70 Nor soon expected back from war. Thus said, at least, my mountain-guide. Though deep perchance the villain lied." *' Yet why a second venture try ? " " A warrior thou, and ask me why ! — 75 Moves our free course by such fixed 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 80 A Knight's free footsteps far and wide, — A falcon flown, a greyhound strayed. The merry glance of mountain maid ; Or, if a path be dangerous known. The danger's self is lure alone." 85 " 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 90 To guard King James's sports I heard ; Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear This muster of the mountaineer, 136 Lady of the Lake Their pennons will abroad be flung, Which else in Doune had peaceful hung." 95 *' Free be they flung ; for we were loath 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, 100 Bewildered in the mountain-game, Whence the bold boast by which you show Vich- Alpine's vowed and mortal foe ? " " Warrior, but yester-morn I knew Naught of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 105 Save as an outward desperate man. The chief of a rebellious clan, Who, in the Regent'5 court and sight. With ruffian dagger stabbed a knight; Yet this alone might from his part no Sever each true and loyal heart." VI Wrathful at such arraignment foul. Dark lowered the clansman's sable scowl. A space he paused, then sternly said, " And heardst thou why he drew his blade? 115 Heardst thou that shameful word and blow Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe ? What recked the Chieftain if he stood On Highland heath or Holy-Rood ? He rights such wrong where it is given, 120 If it were in the court of heaven." " Still was it outrage ; — ^yet, 't is true, Not then claimed sovereignty his due; While Albany with feeble hand Held borrowed truncheon of command, 1 25 The young King, mewed in Stirling tower, Was stranger to respect and power. 137 Lady of the Lake But then, thy Chieftain's robber Hf e ! — Winning mean prey by causeless strife, Wrenching from ruined Lowland swain His herds and harvest reared in vain, — Methinks a soul like thine should scorn The spoils from such foul foray borne." VII The Gael beheld him grim the while, And answered with disdainful smile : " Saxon, from yonder mountain high, I marked thee send delighted eye Far to the south and east, where lay. Extended in succession gay, Deep waving fields and pastures green. With gentle slopes and groves between : — These fertile plains, that softened vale, Were once the birthright of the Gael ; The stranger came with iron hand. And from our fathers reft the land. Where dwell we now? See, rudely swell Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. Ask we this savage hill we tread For fattened steer or household bread. Ask we for flocks these shingles dry. And well the mountain might reply, — * To you, as to your sires of yore. Belong the target and claymore ! I give you shelter in my breast ; Your own good blades must win the rest.' Pent in this fortress of the North, Think'st thou we will not sally forth. To spoil the spoiler as we may, And from the robber rend the prey? Ay, by my soul ! — While on yon plain The Saxon rears one shock of grain, 138 Lady of the Lake While of ten thousand herds there strays But one along yon river's maze, — The Gael, of plain and river heir, Shall with strong hand redeem his share. 165 Where live the mountain Chiefs who hold That plundering Lowland field and fold Is aught but retribution true ? Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu." vni Answered Fitz-James : '* And, if I sought, 170 Think'st thou no other could be brought ? What deem ye of my path waylaid ? • My life given o'er to ambuscade? " " As of a meed to rashness due : Hadst thou sent warning fair and true, — 175 I seek my hound or falcon strayed, I seek, good faith, a Highland maid, — Free hadst thou been to come and go ; But secret path marks secret foe. Nor yet for this, even as a spy, 180 Hadst thou, unheard, been doomed to die, Save to fulfil an augury." '* Well, let it pass ; nor will I now Fresh cause of enmity avow, To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow. 185 Enough, I am by promise tied To match me with this man of pride : Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's glen In peace ; but when I come again, I come with banner, brand, and bow, 190 As leader seeks his mortal foe. For love-lorn swain in lady's bower Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, As I, until before me stand This rebel Chieftain and his band ! " 195 139 Lady of the Lake IX *' Have then thy wish ! " — He whistled shrill, And he was answered from the hill; Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath, arose 200 Bonnets and spears and bended bows; On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; From shingles gray their lances start. The bracken bush sends forth the dart, 205 The rushes and the willow-wand Are bristling into axe and brand. And every tuft of broom gives life To plaided warrior armed for strife. That whistle garrisoned the glen 210 At once with full five hundred men, As if the yawning hill to heaven A subterranean host had given. Watching their leader's beck and will, All silent there they stood and still. 215 Like the loose crags whose threatening mass Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, As if an infant's touch could urge Their headlong passage down the verge, With step and weapon forward flung, 220 Upon the mountain-side they hung. The Mountaineer cast glance of pride Along Benledi's living side; Then fixed his eye and sable brow Full on Fitz-James : *' How say'st thou now ? 225 These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true ; And, Saxon, — I am Roderick Dhu ! " 140 Lady of the Lake X Fitz- James was brave : — though to his heart The life-blood thrilled with sudden start. He manned himself with dauntless air, 230 Returned the Chief his haughty stare. His back against a rock he bore, And firmly placed his foot before : — " Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I." 235 Sir Roderick marked, — and in his eyes Respect was mingled with surprise, And the stern joy which warriors feel In foemen worthy of their steel. Short space he stood — then waved his hand : 240 Down sunk the disappearing band ; Each warrior vanished where he stood, In broom or bracken, heath or wood ; Sunk brand and spear and bended bow, In osiers pale and copses low; 245 It seemed as if their mother Earth Had swallowed up her warlike birth. The wind's last breath had tossed in air Pennon and plaid and plumage fair, — The next but swept a lone hillside, 250 Where heath and fern were waving wide : The sun's last glance was glinted back From spear and glaive, from targe and jack, — The next, all unreflected, shone On bracken green and cold gray stone. 255 XI Fitz-James looked round, — yet scarce believed The witness that his sight received ; Such apparition well might seem Delusion of a dreadful dream. 141 Lady of the Lake Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, 260 And to his look the Chief replied: " Fear naught — nay, that I need not say — But — doubt not aught from mine array. Thou art my guest ; — I pledged my word As far as Coil^ntogle ford : 265 Nor would I call a clansman's brand For aid against one valiant hand, Though on our strife lay every vale Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. So move we on ; — I only meant 270 To show the reed on which you leant, Deeming this path you might pursue Without a pass from Roderick Dhu." They moved ; — I said Fitz-James was brave As ever knight that belted glaive, 275 Yet dare not say that now his blood Kept on its wont and tempered flood. As, following Roderick's stride, he drew That seeming lonesome pathway through, Which yet by fearful proof was rife 280 With lancers, that, to take his life, Waited but signal from a guide. So late dishonored and defied. Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round The vanished guardians of the ground, 285 And still from copse and heather deep Fancy saw spear and broadsword peep, And in the plover's shrilly strain The signal whistle heard again. Nor breathed he free till far behind 290 The pass was left ; for then they wind Along a wide and level green. Where neither tree nor tuft was seen, Nor rush nor bush of broom was near, To hide a bonnet or a spear. 295 142 Lady of the Lake XII The Chief in silence strode before, And reached that torrent's sounding shore, Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, From Vennachar in silver breaks, Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 300 On Bochastle the mouldering lines, Where Rome, the Empress of the world, Of yore her eagle wings unfurled. And here his course the Chieftain stayed, Threw down his target and his plaid, 305 And to the Lowland warrior said : " Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, This head of a rebellious clan, 310 Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. Now, man to man, and steel to steel, A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. See, here all.vantageless I stand, 315 Armed like thyself with single brand ; For this is Coilantogle ford, And thou must keep thee with thy sword.'* XIII The Saxon paused : " I ne'er delayed, When foeman bade me draw my blade; 320 Nay, more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death : Yet sure thy fair and generous faith. And my deep debt for life preserved, A better meed have well deserved : Can naught but blood our feud atone ? 325 Are there no means? " — ** No, stranger, none! And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — 143 Lady of the Lake The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred Between the Hving and the dead :' 330 * Who spills the foremost foeman's life, His party conquers in the strife.' " " Then, by my word," the Saxon said, " The riddle is already read. Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — 335 There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. Thus Fate hath solved her prophecy ; Then yield to Fate, and not to me. To James at Stirling let us go, When, if thou wilt be still his foe, 340 Or if the King shall not agree To grant thee grace and favor free, I plight mine honor, oath, and word That, to thy native strength restored, With each advantage shalt thou stand 345 That aids thee now to guard thy land." XIV Dark lightning flashed from Roderick's eye : " Soars thy presumption, then, so high. Because a wretched kern ye slew. Homage to name to Roderick Dhu? 350 He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! Thou add'st but fuel to my hate; — My clansman's blood demands revenge. Not yet prepared ? — By heaven, I change My thought, and hold thy valor light 355 As that of some vain carpet knight. Who ill deserved my courteous care, And whose best boast is but to wear A braid of his fair lady's hair." *' I thank thee, Roderick, for the word ! 360 It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; 144 Lady of the Lake For I have sworn this braid to stain In the best blood that warms thy vein. Now, truce, farewell ! and, ruth, begone ! — Yet think not that by thee alone, 365 Proud Chief ! can courtesy be shown ; Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, Start at my whistle clansmen stern. Of this small horn one feeble blast Would fearful odds against thee cast. 370 But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt — We try this quarrel hilt to hilt." Then each at once his falchion drew, Each on the ground his scabbard threw. Each looked to sun and stream and plain 375 As what they ne'er might see again ; Then foot and point and eye opposed, In dubious strife they darkly closed. XV 111 fared it then with Roderick Dhu, That on the field his targe he threw, 380 Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide Had death so often dashed aside; For, trained abroad his arms to wield, Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. He practised every pass and ward, 385 To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; While less expert, though stronger far, The Gael maintained unequal war. Three times in closing strife they stood. And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood ; 390 No stinted draught, no scanty tide. The gushing flood the tartans dyed. Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, And showered his blows like wintry rain ; 10 145 Lady of the Lake And, as firm rock or castle-roof 395 Against the winter shower is proof, The foe, invulnerable still, Foiled his wild rage by steady skill ; Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand, 400 And backward borne upon the lea, Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. XVI " Now yield thee, or by Him who made The world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade ! " " Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy ! 405 Let recreant yield, who fears to die." Like adder darting from his coil, Like wolf that dashes through the toil, Like mountain-cat who guards her young, Full at Fitz- James's throat he sprung; 410 Received, but recked not of a wound, •And locked his arms his foeman round. — Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own ! No maiden's hand is round thee thrown ! That desperate grasp thy frame might feel 415 Through bars of brass and triple steel ! 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 on his breast ; 420 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 425 The stream of life's exhausted tide, And all too late the advantage came, 146 Lady of the Lake To turn the odds of deadly game ; For, while the dagger gleamed on high, Reeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye. 430 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, 435 But breathless all, Fitz-James arose. XVII 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 ; 440 In Roderick's gore he dipped the braid, — " Poor Blanche ! thy wrongs are dearly paid : Yet with thy foe must die, or live, The praise that faith and valor give.'* With that he blew a bugle note, 445 Undid the collar from his throat, Unbonneted, and by the wave Sat down his brow and hands to lave. Then faint afar are heard the feet Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet ; 450 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, 455 And by Fitz-James reined up his horse, — With wonder viewed the bloody spot, — " Exclaim not, gallants ! question not. — You, Herbert and Lufifness, alight. And bind the wounds of yonder knight ; 460 147 Lady of the Lake Let the gray palfrey bear his weight, We destined for a fairer freight, And bring him on to StirHng straight ; I will before at better speed, To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. 465 The sun rides high ; — I must be boune To see the archer-game at noon ; But lightly Bayard clears the lea. — De Vaux and Herries, follow me. XVIII " Stand, Bayard, stand ! "■ — the steed obeyed, 470 With arching neck and bended head, And glancing eye and quivering ear. As if he loved his lord to hear. No foot Fitz-James in stirrup stayed, No grasp upon the saddle laid, 475 But wreathed his left hand in the mane. And lightly bounded from the plain. Turned on the horse his armed heel, 'And stirred his courage with the steel, Bounded the fiery steed in air, 480 The rider sat erect and fair, Then like a bolt from steel crossbow Forth launched, along the plain they go. They dashed that rapid torrent through, And up Carhonie's hill they flew ; 485 Still at the gallop pricked the Knight, His merrymen followed as they might. Along thy banks, swift Teith ! they ride, And in the race they mock thy tide ; Torry and Lendrick now are past, 490 And Deanstown lies behind them cast ; They rise, the bannered towers of Doune, They sink in distant woodland soon ; 148 Lady of the Lake Blair-Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire, They sweep Hke breeze through Ochtertyre; 495 They mark just glance and disappear The lofty brow of ancient Kier ; They bathe their coursers' sweltering sides, Dark Forth ! amid thy sluggish tides, And on the opposing shore take ground, 500 With plash, with scramble, and with bound. Right-hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth ! And soon the bulwark of the North, Gray Stirling, with her towers and town, Upon their fleet career looked down. 505 XIX 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 gray, 510 Who townward 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 ? " 515 " No, by my word ; — a burly groom He seems, who in the field or chase A baron's train would nobly grace — " '' Out, out, De Vaux ! can fear supply, And jealousy, no sharper eye? 520 Afar, ere to the hill he drew. That stately form and step I knew ; Like form in Scotland is not seen. Treads not such step on Scottish green. 'T is James of Douglas, by Saint Serle ! 525 The uncle of the banished Earl. 149 Lady of the Lake Away, away, to^ court, to show The near approach of dreaded foe : The Kmg must stand upon his guard; Douglas and he must meet prepared." 530 Then right-hand wheeled their steeds, and straight They won the Castle's postern gate. XX The Douglas, who had bent his way From Cambus-kenneth's abbey gray. Now, as he climbed the rocky shelf, 535 Held sad communion with himiself : — " Yes ! all is true my fears could frame ; A prisoner lies the noble Grseme, And fiery Roderick soon will feel The vengeance of the royal steel. 540 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 ! 545 For He who gave her knows how dear, How excellent ! — but that is by, And now my business is — to die. — Ye towers ! within whose circuit dread A Douglas by his sovereign bled ; 550 And thou, O sad and fatal mound ! That oft hast 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 555 Prepare — for Douglas seeks his doom ! But hark ! what blithe and jolly peal Makes the Franciscan steeple reel? 150 Lady of the Lake And see ! upon the crowded street, In motley groups what masquers meet ! 560 Banner and pageant, pipe and drum, And merry morrice-dancers come. I guess, by all this quaint array, The burghers hold their sports to-day. James will be there ; he loves such show, 565 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, 570 And play my prize ; — King James shall mark If age has tamed these sinews stark. Whose force so oft in happier days His boyish wonder loved to praise." XXI The Castle gates were open flung, 575 The quivering drawbridge rocked and rung. And echoed loud the flinty street Beneath the coursers' clattering feet. As slowly down the steep descent Fair Scotland's King and nobles went, 580 While all along the crowded way Was jubilee and loud huzza. And ever James was bending low To his white jennet's saddle-bow. Doffing his cap to city dame, 585 Who smiled and blushed for pride and shame. And well the simperer might be vain, — He chose the fairest of the train. Gravely he greets each city sire, Commends each pageant's quaint attire, 590 151 Lady of the Lake Gives to the dancers thanks aloud, And smiles and nods upon the crowd, Who rend the heavens with their acclaims, — *' Long live the Commons' King, King James ! " Behind the King thronged peer and knight, 595 And noble dame and damsel bright. Whose fiery steeds ill brooked the stay Of the steep street and crowded way. But in the train you might discern Dark lowering brow and visage stern ; . 600 There nobles mourned their pride restrained, And the mean burgher's joys disdained ; And chiefs, who, hostage for their clan, Were each from home a banished man, There thought upon their own gray tower, 605 Their waving woods, their feudal power, And deemed themselves a shameful part Of pageant which they cursed in heart. XXII Now, in the Castle-park, drew out Their checkered bands the joyous rout. 610 There morricers, with bell at heel And blade in hand, their mazes wheel ; But chief, beside the butts, there stand Bold Robin Hood and all his band, — Friar Tuck with quarterstafif and cowl, 615 Old Scathelocke with his surly scowl, Maid Marian, fair as ivory bone. Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John; Their bugles challenge all that will. In archery to prove their skill. 620 The Douglas bent a bow of might, — His first shaft centred in the white. And when in turn he shot again. His second split the first in twain. 152 Lady of the Lake From the King's hand must' Douglas take 625 A silver dart, the archers' stake ; Fondly he watched, with watery eye. Some answering glance of sympathy, — No kind emotion made reply ! Indifferent as to archer wight, 630 The monarch gave the arrow bright. • XXIII Now, clear the ring! for, hand to hand, The manly wrestlers take their stand. Two o'er the rest superior rose. And proud demanded mightier foes, — 635 Nor called in vain, for Douglas came. — For life is Hugh of Larbert lame ; Scarce better John of Alloa's fare. Whom senseless home his comrades bare. Prize of the wrestling match, the King 640 To' Douglas gave a golden ring, While coldly glanced his eye of blue, As frozen drop of wintry dew. Douglas would speak, but in his breast His struggling soul his words suppressed; 645 Indignant then he turned him where Their arms the brawny yeomen bare, To hurl the massive bar in air. When each his utmost strength had shown, The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone 650 From its deep bed, then heaved it high, And sent the fragment through the sky A rood beyond the farthest mark ; And still in Stirling's royal park. The gray-haired sires, who know the past, 655 To strangers point the Douglas cast, And moralize on the decay Of Scottish strength in modern day. 153 Lady of the Lake XXIV The vale with loud applauses rang, The Ladies' Rock sent back the clang. 660 The King, with look unmoved, bestowed A purse well filled with pieces broad. Indignant smiled the Douglas proud. And threw the gold among the crowd, Who now with anxious wonder scan, 665 And sharper glance, the dark gray man ; Till whispers rose among the throng. That heart so free, and hand so strong, Must to the Douglas blood belong. The old men marked and shook the head, 670 To see his hair with silver spread, And winked aside, and told each son Of feats upon the English done. Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand Was exiled from his native land. 675 The women praised his stately form. Though wrecked by many a winter's storm; The youth with awe and wonder saw His strength surpassing Nature's law. This judged, as is their wont, the crowd, 680 Till murmurs rose to clamors loud. But not a glance from that proud ring Of peers who circled round the King With Douglas held communion kind. Or called the banished man to mind ; 685 No, not from those who at the chase Once held his side the honored place, Begirt his board, and in the field Found safety underneaith his shield ; For he whom royal eyes disown, 690 When was his form to courtiers known ! 154 Lady of the Lake XXV The Monarch saw the gambols flag, And bade let loose a gallant stag, Whose pride, the holiday to crown. Two favorite greyhounds should pull down, 695 That venison free and Bourdeaux wine Might serve the archery to dine. But Lufra, — whom from Douglas's side Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide. The fleetest hound in all the North, — 700 Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. She left the royal hounds midway. And dashing on the antlered prey, Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank, And deep the flowing life-blood drank. 705 The King's stout huntsman saw the sport By strange intruder broken short. Came up, and with his leash unbound In anger struck the noble hound. The Douglas had endured, that morn, 710 The King's cold look, the nobles' scorn, And last, and worst to spirit proud. Had borne the pity of the crowd ; But Lufra had been fondly bred, To share his board, to watch his bed, 715 And oft would Ellen Lufra's neck In maiden glee with garlands deck ; They were such playmates that with name Of Lufra Ellen's image came. His stifled wrath is brimming high, 720 In darkened brow and flashing eye ; As waves before the bark divide, The crowd gave way before his stride; Needs but a buffet and no more. The groom lies senseless in his gore. 725 155 Lady of the Lake Such blow no other hand could deal. Though gauntleted in glove of steel. XXVI Then clamored loud the royal train, And brandished swords and staves amain. But stern the Baron's warning : *' Back ! 730 Back, on your lives, ye menial pack ! Beware the Douglas. — Yes ! behold, King James ! The Douglas, doomed of old, And vainly sought for near and far, A victim to atone the war, 735 A willing victim, now attends. Nor craves thy grace but for his friends." — ** Thus is my clemency repaid? Presumptuous Lord ! " the Monarch said : " Of thy misproud ambitious clan, 740 Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man. The only man, in whom a foe My woman-mercy would not know ; But shall a Monarch's presence brook Injurious blow and haughty look? — 745 What ho ! the Captain of our Guard ! Give the offender fitting ward. — Break off the sports ! " — for tumult rose. And yeomen 'gan to bend their bows, — " Break off the sports ! " he said and frowned, 750 " And bid our horsemen clear the ground." XXVII Then uproar wild and misarray Marred the fair form of festal day. The horsemen pricked among the crowd. Repelled by threats and insult loud ; 755 156 Lady of the Lake To earth are borne the old and weak, The timorous fly, the women shriek ; With flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar, The hardier urge tumultuous war. At once round Douglas darkly sweep 760 The royal spears in circle deep. And slowly scale the pathway steep, While on the rear in thunder pour The rabble with disordered roar. With grief the noble Douglas saw 765 The Commons rise against the law, And to the leading soldier said : " Sir John of Hynford, 't was my blade That knighthood on thy shoulder laid ; For that good deed permit me then 770 A word with these misguided men. — XXVIII *' Hear, gentle friends, ere yet for me Ye break the bands of fealty. My life, my honor, and my cause, I tender free to Scotland's laws. 775 Are these so weak as must require The aid of your misguided ire ? Or if I suffer causeless wrong. Is then my selfish rage so strong. My sense of public weal so low, 780 That, for mean vengeance on a foe. Those cords of love I should unbind Which knit my country and my kind ? O no ! Believe, in yonder tower It will not soothe my captive hour, 785 To know those spears our foes should dread For me in kindred gore are red : 157 Lady of the Lake To know, in fruitless brawl begun, For me that mother wails her son, For me that widow's mate expires, 790 For me that orphans weep their sires, That patriots mourn insulted laws, And curse the Douglas for the cause. Oh let your patience ward such ill, And keep your right to love me still ! " 795 XXIX The crowd's wild fury sunk again In tears, as tempests melt in rain. With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed For blessings on his generous head Who for his country felt alone, 800 And prized her blood beyond his own. Old men upon the verge of life Blessed him who stayed the civil strife; And mothers held their babes on high, The self-devoted Chief to spy, 805 Triumphant over wrongs and ire. To whom the prattlers owed a sire. Even the rough soldier's heart was moved ; As if behind some bier beloved. With trailing arms and drooping head, 810 The Douglas up the hill he led. And at the Castle's battled verge. With sighs resigned his honored charge. XXX The ofifended Monarch rode apart, With bitter thought and swelling heart, 815 And would not now vouchsafe again Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 158 Lady of the Lake " O Lennox, who would wish to rule This changeling crowd, this common fool? Hear'st thou," he said, " the loud acclaim 820 With which they shout the Douglas name ? With like acclaim the vulgar throat Strained for King James their morning note ; With like acclaim they hailed the day When first I broke the Douglas sway ; 825 And like acclaim would Douglas greet If he could hurl me from my seat. Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain? Vain as the leaf upon the stream, 830 And fickle as a changeful dream ; Fantastic as a woman's mood. And fierce as Frenzy's fevered blood. Thou many-headed monster-thing, Oh who would wish to be thy king? — 835 XXXI ** But soft ! what messenger of speed Spurs hitherward his panting steed? I guess his cognizance afar — What from our cousin, John of Mar? " *' He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound 840 Within the safe and guarded ground ; • For some foul purpose yet unknown, — Most sure for evil to the throne, — The outlawed Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, Has summoned his rebellious crew ; 845 'T is said, in James of Bothwell's aid These loose banditti stand arrayed. The Earl of Mar this morn from Doune To break their muster marched, and soon Your Grace will hear of battle fought ; 850 But earnestly the Earl besought, 159 Lady of the Lake Till for such danger he provide, With scanty train you will not ride. XXXII " Thou warn'st me I have done amis ; — I should have earlier looked to this ; I lost it in this bustling day. — Retrace with speed thy former way ; Spare not for spoiling of thy steed, The best of mine shall be thy meed. Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, We do forbid the intended war ; Roderick this morn in single fight Was made our prisoner by a knight, And Douglas hath himself and cause Submitted to our kingdom's laws. The tidings of their leaders lost Will soon dissolve the mountain host, Nor would we that the vulgar feel. For their Chief's crimes, avenging steel. Bear Mar our message, Braco, fly ! " He turned his steed, — " My liege, I hie, Yet ere I cross this lily lawn I fear the broadswords will be drawn." The turf the flying courser spurned. And to his towers the King returned. XXXIII 111 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. i6o Lady of the Lake The burghers spoke of civil jar, Of rumored feuds and mountaiji war, Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, All up in arms ; — the Douglas too, 885 They mourned him pent within the hold, " Where stout Earl William was of old." — And there his word the speaker stayed, And finger on his lip he laid, Or pointed to his dagger blade. 890 But jaded horsemen from the west At evening to the Castle pressed, And busy talkers said they bore Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore; At noon the deadly fray begun, 895 And lasted till the set of sun. Thus giddy rumor shook the town, Till closed the Night her pennons brown. II 161 CANTO SIXTH THE GUARD-ROOM The sun, awakening, through the smoky air Of the dark city casts a sullen glance, Rousing each caitiff to his task of care, Of sinful man the sad inheritance; Summoning revellers from the lagging dance, 5 Scaring the prowling robber to his den ; Gilding on battled tower the warder's lance, And warning student pale to leave his pen. And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men. What various scenes, and O, what scenes of woe, 10 Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam ! The fevered patient, from his pallet low, Through crowded hospital beholds it stream; The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam. The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail, 15 The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream ; The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale, Trims her sick infant's couch, and soothes his feeble wail. II At dawn the towers of Stirling rang With soldier-step and weapon-clang, 20 While drums with rolling note foretell Relief to weary sentinel. Through narrow loop and casement barred, The sunbeams sought the Court of Guard, And, struggling with the smoky air, 25 Deadened the torches' yellow glare. In comfortless alliance shone The lights through arch of blackened stone, 162 Lady of the Lake And showed wild shapes in garb of war, Faces deformed with beard and scar, 30 All haggard from the midnight watch, And fevered with the stern debauch ; For the oak table's massive board, Flooded with wine, with fragments stored, And beakers drained, and cups o'erthrown, 35 Showed in what sport the night had flown. Some, weary, snored on floor and bench; Some labored still their thirst to quench ; Some, chilled with watching, spread their hands O'er the huge chimney's dying brands, 40 While round them, or beside them flung, At every step their harness rung. Ill These drew not for their fields the sword. Like tenants of a feudal lord. Nor owned. the patriarchal claim 45 Of Chieftain in their leader's name ; . Adventurers they, from far who roved, To live by battle which they loved. There the Italian's clouded face. The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace ; 50 The mountain-loving Switzer there More freely breathed in mountain-air; The Fleming there despised the soil That paid so ill the laborer's toil ; Their rolls showed French and German name ; 55 And merry England's exiles came, To share, with ill-concealed disdain, Of Scotland's pay the scanty gain. All brave in arms, well trained to wield The heavy halberd, brand, and shield ; 60 163 Lady of the Lake In camps licentious, wild, and bold ; In pillage fierce and uncontrolled ; And now, by holytide and feast, From rules of discipline released. IV They held debate of bloody fray, 65 Fought 'twixt Loch Katrine and Achray. Fierce was their speech, and mid their words Their hands oft grappled to their swords : Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear Of wounded comrades groaning near, 70 Whose mangled limbs and bodies gored Bore token of the mountain sword. Though, neighboring to the Court of Guard, Their prayers and feverish wails were heard, — Sad burden to the ruffian joke, 75 And savage oath by fury spoke ! — At length upstarted John of Brent, A yeoman from the banks of Trent; A strang'er to respect or fear. In peace a chaser of the deer, 80 In host a hardy mutineer, But still the boldest of the crew When deed of danger was to do. He grieved that day their games cut short, And marred the dicer's brawling sport, 85 And shouted loud, " Renew the bowl ! And, while a merry catch I troll. Let each the buxom chorus bear, Like brethren of the brand and spear." VI The warder's challenge, heard without. Stayed in mid-roar the merry shout. 164 Lady of the Lake A soldier to the portal went, — 1 10 ''Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent; And — beat for jubilee the drum! — A maid and minstrel with him come." Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarred, Was entering now the Court of Guard, 115 A harper with him, and, in plaid All muffled close, a mountain maid. Who backward shrunk to 'scape the view Of the loose scene and boisterous crew. " What news? " they roared : — ** I only know, 120 From noon till eve we fought with foe, As wild and as untamable As the rude mountains where they dwell ; On both sides store of blood is lost, Nor much success can either boast." — 125 " But whence thy captives, friend? such spoil As theirs must needs reward thy toil. Old dost thou wax, and wars grow sharp ; Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp ! Get thee an ape, and trudge the land, 130 The leader of a juggler band." VII " No, comrade ; — no such fortune mine. After the fight these sought our line, That aged harper and the girl. And having audience of the Earl, 135 Mar bade I should purvey them steed, And bring them hitherward with speed. Forbear your mirth and rude alarm, For none shall do them shame or harm." — " Hear ye his boast ? " cried John of Brent, 140 Ever to strife and jangling bent; *' Shall he strike doe beside our lodge, And yet the jealous niggard grudge 165 Lady of the Lake To pay the forester his fee? I'll have my share howe'er it be, I45 Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee/' Bertram his forward step withstood; And, burning in his vengeful mood, Old Allan, though unfit for strife. Laid hand upon his dagger-knife; 150 But Ellen boldly stepped between, And dropped at once the tartan screen : — So, from his morning cloud, appears The sun of May through summer tears. The savage soldiery, amazed, 155 As on descended angel gazed ; Even hardy Brent, abashed and tamed, Stood half admiring, half ashamed. VIII Boldly she spoke : " Soldiers, attend ! My father was the soldier's friend, 160 Cheered him in camps, in marches led. And with him in the battle bled. Not from the valiant or the strong Should exile's daughter sufifer wrong." Answered De Brent, most forward still 165 In every feat or good or ill : " I shame me of the part I played ; And thou an outlav^'s child, poor maid ! An outlaw I by forest laws. And merry Needwood knows the cause. 170 Poor Rose, — if Rose be living now," — He wiped his iron eye and brow, — " Must bear such age, I think, as thou. — Hear ye, my mates ! I go to call The Captain of our watch to hall : 175 There lies my halberd on the floor ; 166 Lady of the Lake And he that steps my halberd o'er, To do the maid injurious part, My shaft shall quiver in his heart ! Beware loose speech, or jesting rough ; i8o Ye all know John de Brent. Enough." IX 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 humor light, 185 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, 190 Young Lewis was a generous youth ; But Ellen's lovely face and mien, 111 suited to the garb and scene, Might lightly, bear construction strange, And give loose fancy scope to range. 195 "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? Does Ihy high quest a knight require, 200 Or may the venture suit a squire ? " Her dark eye flashed ; — she paused and sighed : — " O what have I to do with pride ! — Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife, A suppliant for a father's life, 205 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." 167 Lady of the Lake The signet ring young Lewis took 210 With deep respect and altered look, And said : '* This ring our duties own ; And pardon, if to worth unknown. In semblance mean obscurely veiled. Lady, in aught my folly failed. 215 Soon as the day flings wide his gates, The King shall know what suitor waits. Please you meanwhile in fitting bower Repose you till his waking hour; Female attendance shall obey 220 Your best, for service or array. Permit I marshal you the way." But, ere she followed, with the grace And open bounty of her race. She bade her slender purse be shared 225 Among the soldiers of the guard. The rest with thanks their guerdon took, But Brent, with shy and awkward look, On the reluctant maiden's hold Forced bluntly back the profTered gold : — 230 " Forgive a haughty English heart. And O, forget its ruder part ! The vacant purse shall be my share, Which in my barret-cap I'll bear, Perchance, in jeopardy of war, 235 Where gayer crests may keep afar." With thanks — 't was all she could — the maid His rugged courtesy repaid. XI When Ellen forth with Lewis went, Allan made suit to John of Brent : — 240 '' My lady safe, O let your grace Give me to see my master's face! 168 Lady of the Lake His minstrel I, — to share his doom Bound from the cradle to the tomb. Tenth in descent, since first my sires 245 Waked for his noble house their lyres, Nor one of all the race was known But prized its weal above their own. With the Chief's birth begins our care ; Our harp must soothe the infant heir, 250 Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace His earliest feat of field or chase ; In peace, in war, our rank we keep, We cheer his board, we soothe his sleep, Nor leave him till we pour our verse — 255 A doleful tribute! — o'er his hearse. Then let me share his captive lot, It is my right — deny it not ! " *' Little we reck," said John of Brent, *' We Southern men, of long descent ; 260 Nor wot we how a name — a word — Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : Yet kind my noble landlord's part, — God bless the house of Beaudesert ! And, but I loved to drive the deer 265 More than to guide the laboring steer, I had not dwelt an outcast here. Come, good old Minstrel, follow me; Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see." XII Then, from a rusted iron hook, 270 A bunch of ponderous keys he took. Lighted a torch, and Allan led Through grated arch and passage dread. Portals they passed, where, deep within. Spoke prisoner's moan and fetters' din; 275 169 Lady of the Lake Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored, Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword, And many a hideous engine grim, For wrenching joint and crushing limb, By artists formed who deemed it shame 280 And sin to give their work a name. They halted at a low-browed porch, And Brent to Allan gave the torch, While bolt and chain he backward rolled, And made the bar unhasp its hold. 285 They entered : — 't was a prison-room Of stern security and gloom. Yet not a dungeon ; for the day Through lofty gratings found its way. And rude and antique garniture 290 Decked the sad walls and oaken floor, Such as the rugged days of old Deemed fit for captive noble's hold. " Here," said De Brent, " thou mayst remain Till the Leech visit him again. 295 Strict is his charge, the warders tell. To tend the noble prisoner well." Retiring then the bolt he drew. And the lock's murmurs growled anew. Roused at the sound, from lowly bed 300 A captive feebly raised his head ; The wondering Minstrel looked, and knew — Not his dear lord, but Roderick Dhu ! For, come from where Clan-Alpine fought. They, erring, deemed the Chief he sought. 305 XIII As the tall ship, whose lofty prore Shall never stem the billows more, 170 Lady of the Lake Deserted by her gallant band, Amid the breakers lies astrand, — So on his couch lay Roderick Dhu ! 310 And oft his fevered limbs he threw In toss abrupt, as when her sides Lie rocking in the advancing tides. That shake her frame with ceaseless beat, Yet cannot heave her from her seat; — 315 .0, how unlike her course at sea! Or his free step on hill and lea ! — Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, — *' What of thy lady ? — of my clan ? — My mother ? — Douglas ? — tell me all ! 320 Have they been ruined in my fall? Ah, yes, or wherefore art thou here? Yet speak, — speak boldly, — do not fear." — For Allan, who his mood well knew. Was choked with grief and terror too. — 325 ** Who fought? — who fled? — Old man, be brief ; — Some might, — for they had lost their Chief. Who basely live — who bravely died ? " " O, calm thee. Chief ! " the Minstrel cried, ^' Ellen is safe ! " '' For that thank Heaven ! " 330 " And hopes are for the Douglas given ; — The Lady Margaret, too, is well ; And, for thy clan, — on field or fell, Has never harp of minstrel told Of combat fought so true and bold. 335 Thy stately Pine is yet unbent, Though many a goodly bough is rent." XIV The Chieftain reared his form on high, And fever's fire was in his eye ; But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks 340 Checkered his swarthy brow and cheeks. 171 Lady of the Lake " Hark, Minstrel ! I have heard thee play, With measure bold on festal day, In yon lone isle, — again where ne'er Shall harper play or warrior hear ! — 345 That stirring air that peals on high, O'er Dermid's race our victory. — Strike it — and then, — for well thou canst, — Free from thy minstrel-spirit glanced, Fling me the picture of the fight, 350 When met my clan the Saxon might. I'll listen, till my fancy hears The clang of swords, the crash of spears ! These gates, these walls, shall vanish then For the fair field of fighting men, 355 And my free spirit burst away. As if it soared from battle fray." The trembling Bard with awe obeyed, — Slow on the harp his hand he laid ; But soon remembrance of the sight 360 He witnessed from the mountain's height. With what old Bertram told at night. Awakened the full power of song. And bore him in career along; — As shallop launched on river's tide, 365 That slow and fearful leaves the side. But, when it feels the middle stream. Drives downward swift as lightning's beam. XV BATTLE OF BEAl' AN DUINE " The Minstrel came once more to view The eastern ridge of Benvenue, 370 For ere he parted he would say Farewell to lovely Loch Achray — 172 Lady of the Lake Where shall he find, in foreign land, So lone a lake, so sweet a strand ! — There is no breeze upon the fern, 375 No ripple on the lake, Upon her eyry nods the erne, The deer has sought the brake ; The small birds will not sing aloud. The springing trout lies still, 380 So darkly glooms yon thunder-cloud. That swathes, as with a purple shroud, Benledi's distant hill. Is it the thunder's solemn sound That mutters deep and dread, 385 Or echoes from the groaning ground The warrior's measured tread? Is it the lightning's quivering glance That on the thicket streams. Or do they flash on spear and lance 390 The sun's retiring beams? — I see the dagger-crest of Mar, I see the Moray silver star. Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war, That up the lake comes winding far! 395 To hero boune for battle-strife, Or bard of martial lay, 'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, One glance at their array ! XVI " Their light-armed archers far and near 400 Surveyed the tangled ground, Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, At twilight forest frowned. Their barbed horsemen in the rear The stern battalia crowned. 405 173 Lady of the Lake No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang, Still were the pipe and drum ; Save heavy tread, and armor's clang, The sullen march was dumb. There breathed no wind their crests to shake. Or wave their flags abroad ; Scarce the frail aspen seemed to quake, That shadowed o'er the road. Their vaward scouts no tidings bring. Can rouse no lurking foe, Nor spy a trace of living thing, Save when they stirred the roe ; The host moves like a deep-sea wave. Where rise no rocks its pride to brave. High-swelling, dark, and slow. The lake is passed, and now they gain A narrow and a broken plain, Before the Trosach's rugged jaws; And here the horse and spearmen pause. While, to explore the dangerous glen, Dive through the pass the archer-men. XVII " At once there rose so wild a yell Within that dark and narrow dell. As all the fiends from heaven that fell Had pealed the banner-cry of hell ! Forth from the pass in tumult driven, Like chaff before the wind of heaven. The archery appear : For life ! for life ! their flight they ply — And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry, And plaids and bonnets waving high. And broadswords flashing to the sky, Are maddening in the rear. 174 Lady of the Lake Onward they drive in dreadful race, Pursuers and pursued ; 440 Before that tide of flight and chase, How shall it keep its rooted place. The spearmen's twilight wood? — * Down, down,' cried Mar, ' your lances down ! Bear back both friend and foe ! ' — 445 Like reeds before the tempest's frown, That serried grove of lances brown At once lay levelled low ; And closely shouldering side to side. The bristling ranks the onset bide. — 450 * We'll quell the savage mountaineer, As their Tinchel cows the game ! They come as fleet as forest deer, We'll drive them back as tame.' XVIII " Bearing before them in their course 455 The relics of the archer force, Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, Right onward did Clan-Alpine come. Above the tide, each broadsword bright Was brandishing like beam of light, 460 Each targe was dark below ; And with the ocean's mighty swing, When heaving to the tempest's wing, They hurled them on the foe. I heard the lance's shivering crash, 465 As when the whirlwind rends the ash ; I heard the broadsword's deadly clang, As if a hundred anvils rang! But Moray wheeled his rearward rank Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine's flank, — 470 175 Lady of the Lake ' My banner-man, advance ! I see,' he cried, * their coUimn shake. Now, gallants! for your ladies' sake, Upon them with the lance ! ' — The horsemen dashed among the rout, 475 As deer break through the broom ; Their steeds are stout, their swords are out. They soon make lightsome room. Clan-Alpine's best are backward borne — Where, where was Roderick then ! 480 One blast upon his bugle-horn Were worth a thousand men. And refluent through the pass of fear The battle's tide was poured ; Vanished the Saxon's struggling spear, 485 Vanished the mountain-sword. As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and steep, Receives her roaring linn. As the dark caverns of the deep Suck the wild whirlpool in, 490 So did the deep and darksome pass Devour the battle's mingled mass ; None linger now upon the plain. Save those who ne'er shall fight again. XIX " Now westward rolls the battle's din, 495 That deep and doubling pass within. — Minstrel, away ! the work of fate Is bearing on; its issue wait. Where the rude Trosachs' dread defile Opens on Katrine's lake and isle. 500 Gray Benvenue I soon repassed. Loch Katrine lay beneath me cast. 176 Lady of the Lake The sun is set ; — the clouds are met, The lowering scowl of heaven An inky hue of livid blue 505 To the deep lake has given ; Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen Swept o'er the lake, then sunk again. I heeded not the eddying surge, Mine eye but saw the Trosachs' gorge, 510 Mine ear but heard that sullen sound. Which like an earthquake shook the ground, And spoke the stern and desperate strife That parts not but with parting life. Seeming, to minstrel ear, to toll 515 The dirge of many a passing soul. Nearer it comes — the dim-v/ood glen The martial flood disgorged again. But not in mingled tide; Th6 plaided warriors of the North 520 High on the mountain thunder forth And overhang its side, While by the lake below appears The darkening cloud of Saxon spears. At weary bay each shattered band, 525 Eying their foemen, sternly stand ; Their banners stream like tattered sail, That flings its fragments to the gale, And broken arms and disarray Marked the fell havoc of the day. 530 XX " Viewing the mountain's ridge askance. The Saxons stood in sullen trance, Till Moray pointed with his lance, And cried : ' Behold yon isle ! — 12 177 Lady of the Lake See ! none are left to guard its strand 535 But women weak, that wring the hand : 'Tis there of yore the robber band Their booty wont to pile ; — My purse, with bonnet-pieces store, To him will swim a bow-shot o'er, 540 And loose a shallop from the shore. Lightly we'll tame the war-wolf then, Lords of his mate, and brood, and den.' Forth from the ranks a spearman sprung, On earth his casque and corselet rung, 545 He plunged him in the wave : — All saw the deed, — the purpose knew. And to their clamors Benvenue A mingled echo gave ; The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer, 550 The helpless females scream for fear, And yells for rage the mountaineer. 'Twas then, as by the outcry riven. Poured down at once the lowering heaven : A whirlwind swept Loch Katrine's breast, 555 Her billows reared their snowy crest. Well for the swimmer swelled they high, To mar the Highland marksman's eye; For round him showered, mid rain and hail, The vengeful arrows of the Gael. 560 In vain. — He nears the isle — and lo! His hand is on a shallop's bow. Just then a flash of lightning came. It tinged the waves and strand with flame ; I marked Duncraggan's widowed dame, 565 Behind an oak I saw her stand, A naked dirk gleamed in her hand ! — It darkened, — but amid the moan Of waves I heard a dying groan ; — 178 Lady of the Lake Another flash ! — the spearman floats 570 A weltering corse beside the boats, And the stern matron o'er him stood, Her hand and dagger streaming blood. XXI " * Revenge ! revenge ! ' the Saxons cried, The Gaels' exulting shout replied. 575 Despite the elemental rage, Again they hurried to engage ; But, ere they closed in desperate fight. Bloody with spurring came a knight, Sprung from his horse, and from a crag 580 Waved 'twixt the hosts a milk-white flag. Clarion and trumpet by his side Rung forth a truce-note high and wide, While, in the Monarch's name, afar A herald's voice forbade the war, 585 For Bothwell's lord and Roderick bold Were both, he said, in captive hold." — But here the lay made sudden stand, The harp escaped the Minstrel's hand ! Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy 590 How Roderick brooked his minstrelsy : At first, the Chieftain, to the chime, With lifted hand kept feeble time; That motion ceased, — yet feeling strong Varied his look as changed the song ; 595 At length, no more his deafened ear The minstrel melody can hear; His face grows sharp, — his hands are clenched. As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched , Set are his teeth, his fading eye 600 Is sternly fixed on vacancy ; 179 Lady of the Lake Thus, motionless and moanless, drew His parting breath stout Roderick Dhu ! — Old Allan-bane looked on aghast, While grim and still his spirit passed ; 605 But when he saw that life was fled, He poured his wailing o'er the dead. XXII LAMENT " And art thou cold and lowly laid, Thy f oeman's dread, thy people's aid, Breadalbane's boast, Clan-Alpine's shade! 610 For thee, shall none a requiem say ? — For thee who loved the minstrel's lay, For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay, The shelter of her exiled line. E'en in this prison-house of thine, 615 I'll wail for Alpine's honored Pine ! " What groans shall yonder valleys fill ! What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill ! What tears of burning rage shall thrill. When mourns thy tribe thy battles done, 620 Thy fall before the race was won, Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun ! There breathes not clansman of thy line. But would have given his life for thine. Oh, woe for Alpine's honored Pine ! 625 " Sad was thy lot on mortal stage ! — The captive thrush may brook the cage, The prisoned eagle dies for rage. Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain ! And, when its notes awake again, 630 180 Lady of the Lake Even she, so long beloved in vain, Shall with my harp her voice combine, And mix her woe and tears with mine, To wail Clan-Alpine's honored Pine." XXIII Ellen the while, with bursting heart, 635 Remained in lordly bower apart, Where played, with many-colored gleams. Through storied pane the rising beams. In vain on gilded roof they fall, And lightened up a tapestried wall, 640 And for her use a menial train A rich collation spread in vain. The banquet proud, the chamber gay, Scarce drew one curious glance astray ; Or if she looked, 't was but to say, 645 With better omen dawned the day In that lone isle, where waved on high The sun-deer's hide for canopy; Where oft her noble father shared The simple meal her care prepared, 650 While Lufra, crouching by her side. Her station claimed with jealous pride, And Douglas, bent on woodland game. Spoke of the chase to Malcolm Graeme, Whose answer, oft at random made, 655 The wandering of his thoughts betrayed. Those who such simple joys have known Are taught to prize them when they're gone. But sudden, see, she lifts her head. The window seeks with cautious tread. 660 What distant music has the power To win her in this woful hour? 'T was from a turret that o'erhung Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. 181 Lady of the Lake XXIV LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN " My hawk is tired of perch and hood, 665 My idle greyhound loathes his food, My horse is weary of his stall, And I am sick of captive thrall. I wish I were as I have been, Hunting the hart in forest green, 670 With bended bow and bloodhound free, For that's the life is meet for me. " I hate to learn the ebb of time From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime, Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl, 675 Inch after inch, along the wall. The lark was wont my matins ring. The sable rook my vespers sing ; These towers, although a king's they be. Have not a hall of joy for me. 680 " No more at dawning morn I rise, And sun myself in Ellen's eyes, Drive the fleet deer the forest through. And homeward wend with evening dew ; A blithesome welcome blithely meet, 685 And lay my trophies at her feet, While fled the eve on wing of glee, — That life is lost to love and. me ! " XXV The heart-sick lay was hardly said. The listener had not turned her head, . 690 It trickled still, the starting tear, When light a footstep struck her ear. And Snowdoun's graceful Knight was near. 182 Lady of the Lake She turned the hastier, lest again The prisoner should renew his strain. 695 " O welcome, brave Fitz-James ! " she said ; " How may an almost orphan maid Pay the deep debt — " " O say not so ! To me no gratitude you owe. Not mine, alas ! the boon to give, 700 And bid thy noble father live; I can but be thy guide, sweet maid, With Scotland's King thy suit to aid. No tyrant he, though ire and pride May lay his better mood aside. 705 Come, Ellen, come ! 'tis more than time, He holds his court at morning prime." With beating heart, and bosom wrung. As to a brother's arm she clung. Gently he dried the falling tear, 710 And gently whispered hope and cheer; Her faltering steps half led, half stayed. Through gallery fair and high arcade, Till at his touch its wings of pride A portal arch unfolded wide. 715 XXVI Within 't was brilliant all and light, A thronging scene of figures bright; It glowed on Ellen's dazzled sight. As when the setting sun has given Ten thousand hues to summer even, 720 And from their tissue fancy frames Aerial knights and fairy dames. Still by Fitz-James her footing staid, A few faint steps she forward made, Then slow her drooping head she raised, 725 And fearful round the presence gazed ; 183 Lady of the Lake For him she sought who owned this state, The dreaded Prince whose will was fate ! — She gazed on many a princely port Might well have ruled a royal court ; 730 On many a splendid garb she gazed, — Then turned bewildered and amazed, For all stood bare ; and in the room Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. To him each lady's look was lent, 735 On him each courtier's eye was bent ; Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen. He stood, in simple Lincoln green, The centre of the glittering ring, — And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King! 740 XXVII As wreath of snow on mountain-breast Slides from the rock that gave it rest, Poor Ellen glided from her stay. And at the Monarch's feet she lay; No word her choking voice commands, — 745 She showed the ring, — she clasped her hands. Oh not a moment could he brook, The generous Prince, that suppliant look! Gently he raised her, — and, the while. Checked with a glance the circle's smile ; 750 Graceful, but grave, her brow he kissed. And bade her terrors be dismissed : — " Yes, fair ; the wandering poor Fitz-James The fealty of Scotland claims. To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring ; 755 He will redeem his signet ring. Ask naught for Douglas ; — yester even, His Prince and he have much forgiven; 184 Lady of the Lake Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue, I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. 760 We would not, to the vulgar crowd, Yield what they craved with clamor loud; Calmly we heard and judged his cause; Our council aided and our laws. I stanched thy father's death-feud stern 765 With stout De Vaux and gray Glencairn ; And Bothwell's Lord henceforth we own The friend and bulwark of our throne. — But, lovely infidel, how now? What clouds thy misbelieving brow? 770 Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid ; Thou must confirm this doubting maid." XXVIII Then forth the noble Douglas sprung, And on his neck his daughter hung. The Monarch drank, that happy hour, 775 The sweetest, holiest draught of Power, — When it can say with godlike voice, Arise, sad Virtue, and rejoice ! Yet would not James the general eye On nature's raptures long should pry; 780 He stepped between — " Nay, Douglas, nay. Steal not my proselyte away ! The riddle 't is my right to read, That brought this happy chance to speed. Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray 785 In life's more low but happier way, 'T is under name which veils my power, Nor falsely veils, — for Stirling's tower Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims, And Normans call me James Fitz-James. 790 Thus watch I o'er insulted laws ; Thus learn to right the injured cause." i8s Lady of the Lake Then, in a tone apart and low, — " Ah, httle traitress ! none must know What idle dream, what lighter thought, 795 What vanity full dearly bought, Joined to thine eye's dark witchcraft, drew My spell bound steps to Benvenue In dangerous hour, and all but gave Thy Monarch's life to mountain glaive ! " 800 Aloud he spoke : " Thou still dost hold That little talisman of gold, Pledge of my faith, Fitz-James's ring, — What seeks fair Ellen of the King?" XXIX Full well the conscious maiden guessed 805 He probed the weakness of her breast; But with that consciousness there came A lightening of her fears for Graeme, And more she deemed the Monarch's ire Kindled 'gainst him who for her sire 810 Rebellious broadsword boldly drew ; And, to her generous feeling true. She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu. " Forbear thy suit ; — the King of kings Alone can stay life's parting wings. 815 I know his heart, I know his hand. Have shared his cheer, and proved his brand ; — My fairest earldom would I give To bid Clan-Alpine's Chieftain live ! — Hast thou no other boon to crave ? 820 No other captive friend to save? " Blushing, she turned her from the King, And to the Douglas gave the ring. As if she wished her sire to speak The suit that stained her glowing cheek. 825 186 Lady of the Lake " Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force, And stubborn justice holds her course. Malcolm, come forth ! " — and, at the word, Down kneeled the Graeme to Scotland's Lord. ** For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues, 830 From thee may Vengeance claim her dues. Who, nurtured underneath our smile, Hast paid our care by treacherous wile, And sought amid thy faithful clan A refuge for an outlawed man, 835 Dishonoring thus thy loyal name. — Fetters and warder for the Graeme ! " His chain of gold the King unstrung. The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung. Then gently drew the glittering band, 840 And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand. Harp of the North, farewell ! The hills grow dark, On purple peaks a deeper shade descending ; In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark. The deer, half seen, are to the covert wending. 845 Resume thy wizard elm ! the fountain lending. And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy ; Thy numbers sweet with nature's vespers blending. With distant echo from the fold and lea. And herdboy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee. Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp! 851 Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway. And little reck I of the censure sharp May idly cavil at an idle lay. Much have I owed thy strains on life's long way, 855 Through secret woes the world has never known. When on the weary night dawned wearier day. And bitterer was the grief devoured alone. — That I o'erlive such woes. Enchantress ! is thine own. 187 Lady of the Lake Hark ! as my lingering footsteps slow retire, 860 Some Spirit of the Air has waked thy string ! 'Tis now a seraph bold, with touch of fire, 'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing. Receding now, the dying numbers ring Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell ; 865 And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring A wandering witch-note of the distant spell — And now, 'tis silent all ! — Enchantress, fare thee well. 188 NOTES AND QUERIES Canto I 1. Harp of the North. The harp, the national instrument of Scottish minstrelsy, here embodies its spirit. 2. Witch-elm. Its twigs were bent and used for riding whips, and were supposed to have the power of divining rods to insure good luck. 3. Saint Fillan. A Scotch abbot of the seventh century, eventu- ally made a saint. Two springs were connected with his name, one near Loch Earn, and the other near Loch Lomond, both said to possess curative power. See " Marmion," I, 29. 4. Envious ivy. What figure of speech ? 10. Caledon. Caledonia, the Roman name of Scotland. Look up the Caledonian Canal. 14. Each according pause. See " Marmion," II, 2, for a description of the musical interludes in the harpist's chanting. 18. Find a line in Milton's " L'Allegro " suggested by this line. 19. Note a trace of the influence of Milton on Scott by reading the first few lines of " Lycidas," compared with this stanza. 29. Monan's rill. A Scotch martyr of the fourth century. No rill named for him. 31. Glcnartncy. A valley northeast of Callander. 33. Benvoirlich. A mountain to the north of Glenartney. 45. Beamed frontlet. Explain this. 53. Uam-Var. A den or cavern northeast of Callander, tra- ditionally the abode of a giant, but known to have been fre- quented by robbers. 54. Explain the use of yelled and opening. 66. Cairn.. What is it? What was Thoreau's cairn? 67. Rout. Explain this word. 71* Linn. An old Celtic word for pool. 84. Shrezvdly. How does Shakespeare use this word? 89. Menteith. A section of Perthshire watered by the river Teith. 91. How is moss used here? 92. Lochard and Aberfoyle. Lochard, a lake south of Loch Katrine. Aberfoyle, a village just east of it. 95. Loch Achrey. A lake between Loch Katrine and Loch Vennachar, and near the pass of the Trosachs. 97. Benvenue. A mountain south of Loch Katrine. 103. Cambusmore. The estate of the Buchanan family, which Scott visited in his youth and from which he walked about the Trossachs, near Callander. 189 Lady of the Lake lo.s. Bcnlcdi. A mountain northwest of Callander, io6. Bochastle. A moor between Loch Vennachar and Callander. 107. Teith. Streams from Loch Voil and Loch Katrme form the Teith River. 111. Vannachar. Already explained, 112. Brigg of Turk. A bridge over the Turk, a stream in the valley of Glenfinlas. 115. Scourge and steel. Explain these words, 117. Embossed. An ofd hunting term. 120. Saint Hubert. Saint Hubert was a hunter. Abbots who succeeded him kept a breed of hunting hounds in his memory. 127. Quarry. What does this word mean? 138. IVhinyard. A short sword. See " The Bride of Lam- mermoor," Chap, ix, for a sunilar account of this episode, 145. Trosachs. " The rough or bristled " territory between Lochs Katrine and Vennachar. 163. Banks of Seine. When and for what purpose did James visit France? 166. What is the meaning of this line? 184. Western ivaz'es. The description of the Trosachs which Scott here gives covering several stanzas reflects his visit to these regions in 1809. It should be read aloud, noting the abundant imagery, the evidences of the painter's eye. 197. Sliinar. See Genesis xi. 1-9, for account of the Tower of Babel. 201-2. What are cupola, minaret, pagod? 217. Bozver. How is this word used here? 263. Loch Katrine. Already referred to. 277. Ben-an. A mountain north of the Trosachs, What figure of speech in this line? Compare this stanza with stanza xii for superior poetic imagery, 285, Cloister. Here used for the entire monastery, 313. Highland plunders. These clans frequently pilla^^ed the Lowlands. 318, Falchion. What is it? 342. Naiad. Explain this line, 344. Explain these characters. Is the description of this stanza overdrawn ? 363. Snood. A band of ribbon worn by Scotch maidens about their hair, replaced, upon m.arriage, with a coif or cap. Plaid. A strip of woolen cloth, some ten yards in length, draped about the body to the knee. Each clan had its own colors and pattern. 404. Prune. How is this word used? 408. Wont. Ask your teacher to explain the Anglo-Saxon origin of this word. 409-430. Compare this description of James with the his- torical account. 190 Lady of the Lake 438. Pulled. What figure of speech is this? 440. Ptarmigan and heath-cock. Have we these wild fowl in America? 441. Mere. Lake. Find an English lake using this word in its name. 443. Rood. Cross. What palace in Scotland uses this word in its name ? 452. Fay. Who wrote " The Culprit Fay " ? 460. The " second sight " powers of Allan-Bane were charac- teristic of the belief of the Highlanders. Explain what it means. 464. Lincoln green. Named for the town in which it was made. Can you name other articles named from the place in which they are made? 475. Errant-knight. Is this the proper order of these words, and what does it mean? 476. Sooth. Give the modern word for this. 478. Emprise. Give the modern spelling of this word. 481. Frigate. Is this word used correctly, as we under- stand it? 487. Shallop. This word also. 492. Rocky isle. Ellen's Isle. From pictures, guide books, etc., write a description of this island. Explain the necessity of using it as a hiding place. 525. Idccan. Pertaining either to' Mount Ida near ancient Troy, or to Mount Ida in the island, Crete. 537. Angry steel. What figure of speech? Find the his- torical parallel of this incident. 547. Target. A shield. 573. Ferragus or Ascabart. Medieval giants. 581. Canto II, stanza xiii, explains this line. 585. The Highlanders carried hospitality to the extreme. 591. Snowdoun. See Canto VI, stanza xxviii, for explana- tion of this title. 592. Barren heritage. Explain this historical reference, 595. Wot. Ask your teacher to explain the Anglo-Saxon use of this word. 598. Lord Moray. Who was he? 602. Require. Elizabethan use of request. What did the word discover mean then ? 616. Weird. Is this word used as Shakespeare used the word "weird" with reference to the witches in "Macbeth'"? Down. Hill. 622. Harp. How the noisy bagpipe came to be used in Scot- land instead of the melodious harp is not known. 623. Symphony. In what special sense is this word now used? 624. The metre of this line and of the song it introduces is different from the prevailing metre of the poem. Name both. 638. Pibroch. A Highland air, here used for the bagpipe which plays it. What figure of speech? 191 Lady of the Lake 642. Bittern. Goldsmith, in " The Deserted Village," de- scribes this bird. Read Thoreau's description of the loon in " Walden." 674. Broken dreams. His dreams presaged the closing scenes of his life. 704. Grisly. A poetic word for horrible. 721. Aspens slept. Explain this phrase. 729. Exiled race. See " Tales of a Grandfather," chap, xxvi, for an explanation of this reference to the Douglas family. What is its dramatic value at this point in the poem ? 738. Orison. This word and bead, lines 297 and 741, indi- cate what religious faith ? Which excels in this Canto, narration or description? By what means does Scott get his effects? Are they natural and clear ? What elements of the plot are revealed in this Canto ? Do you find in this Canto any evidences of Scott's personal and social ideals? Are there any portions that could better have been told in prose? What so far is in greater evidence — Scott's personal observations from his travels, his knowledge of people, or his knowledge of books? Canto II 7. Minstrel. Tell the class about the functions of the min- strel, or bard, in the old Scottish household. 15-16. What lines of a song in Shakespeare's "As You Like It" do these lines suggest? What historical reference has Allan-Bane in mind? 17, Speed. Meaning? Quote two proverbs using this word in its real meaning. 23. Meed. What does this word mean? 94. Parts. Old use for departs. See Gray, Goldsmith, and the Bible. 109. Grceme. Graham. This was a distinguished family. Malcolm's ancestor fought with Wallace. 112. Hall and boufcr. The living-room and private chamber, respectively, of members of the family, This usage is as old as Spenser. 131. Saint Modan. A Scotch abbot of the seventh century skilled on the harp, 141. Bothzvell. The ruins of this celebrated Douglas castle, which Scott visited in 1799, may still be seen near Glasgow on the Clyde River. 142. Douglases. See note on line 729, Canto I. 159. From Tzveed to Spey. From the south of Scotland to the north. Do you know of a similar expression in the Bible, and one common to the United States? 170. Reave. What does our use of the word bereft sug- gest here? 192 Lady of the Lake 200. The Lady of the Bleeding Heart. Robert Bruce, on his death-bed, bequeathed his heart to his friend, James Douglas, and asked that he carry it with him in the war against the Saracens. It now Hes buried in Melrose Abbey. Ever since the Douglas family displays a heart on their shield. 206. Strathspey. A Highland dance. 212. Sir Roderick. Roderick Dhu (black), the chieftain of the Alpine Clan, or band, owing original allegiance to a mythi- cal king, Kenneth MacAlpine. 214. Loch Lomond. The largest and most imposing of the Scottish lakes. See map. Do you know the old song, " Loch Lomond " ? Some member of the class should sing this song or play it on the phonograph. 216. Lennox foray. A raid on the lands of the Lennox family, south of Loch Lomond. 221. Holy-Rood. Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh. 230. Disowned. See " History of the House of Douglas," Vol. H, p. 160. 235. Guerdon. Poetic use of rezvard. 236. Dispensation. Roderick and Ellen were cousins ; they could not marry without special dispensation from the Pope. 254. Shrciids. Old use of protects. 260. Maronnan's cell. A parish east of Loch Lomond dedi- cated to Saint Maronnan. Cell means chapel. What does votaress mean? 270. Brack linn. On the mountain stream, Keltic, a mile from Callander, is this beautiful cascade. 274. Claymore. Sword. 303. Woe the zvhile. Woe occurs often in the poem. What does it mean? 306. Tine-man. Archibald, the third Earl of Douglas, ac- quired this title because he tincd (lost) his followers in every battle he fought. 308. Hotspur. Lord Percy, who fought against Henry IV of England. Read Shakespeare's play, " Henry IV." 309. Self-unscabbarded. According to fairy-lore swords have the po\wer to unsheath themselves at the approach of their owner's foes. 319. Beltane game. A Celtic festival held May i in honor of the sun, at which fires were kindled on the hill tops at night. 327. Canna. The down of cotton grass. 335. Glengyle. A valley north of Loch Katrine. 337. Brianchoil. A promontory on the north shore of the lake. 340. Bannered pine. The pine was the insignia of Rod- erick's clan. 343. Tartan. The checkered woolen cloth worn by the Scoitch. Brave. How used? 345. Bonnets. Scotch caps. 13 193 Lady of the Lake 351. Chanters. The pipes of the bagpipes, 363. Thrilling sounds. The pibroch was a well-organized composition descriptive of battle and human emotions. Read Stevenson's " Kidnapped," Chap, xxv, for an account of the piping contest between Allan Breck and Robin Oig. 392. Burden. Refrain or chorus, 396, Roderick Vich- Alpine, ho! iro! Vich means descen- dant from. 399. Hail to the Chief. The metre of this verse is like that in Tennyson's " Charge of the Light Brigade " and Longfellow's " Skeleton in Armor." It has been set to music by Sanderson, 405. Bourgeon. Poetic for sprout or blossom. 416, Breadalbane. The section north of Loch Lomond and about Loch Tay, 419, Glen Fruin. A valley southwest of Loch Lomond, 420, Bannochar. Another valley adjoining, 421, Glen Luss and Ross-dhu. Other nearby valleys. Castles in ruins mark the spots. 426. Levin-glen. The valley of the Levin River^ which con- nects Loch Lomond with the Clyde. 431. Rosebud. Explain this reference? 497. Percy's Norman pennon. Taken in a raid before the bat- tle c^f Otterburn, 1388, and recounted in the ballads of " Chevy Chase," 504, Waned crescent. Refers to the defeat of the Saracens whose insignia is the crescent. 506. Blantyre. The ruins of this priory may still be seen on the Clyde River near Bothwell Castle. 513, Out-beggars. Explain this, 525, Unhooded. Why were falcons hooded? 527, Fabled Goddess. Who was she, and what was her chief interest? 548, Ben Lomond. One of the steepest and highest of the Scotch mountains. See map, 574. Glenfinlas. A dense valley between Ben-an and Vennachar, 577, Royal zvard. What does this mean? 583, Strath-Endrick. A valley southeast of Loch Lomond. 615, King's vindictive pride. See " Tales of a Grandfather," Chap, xxvii, for an explanation of this reference, 623. Meggat's mead. The Meggat is a stream flowing into the Yarrow, a branch of the Ettrick, itself a branch of the Tv/eed, The Teviot also flows into the Tweed. 678. Links of Forth. Windings oif the Forth River. 679, Stirling's porch. Stirling's gate. Where located? What is its history? 683, Blench. Meaning of this word? 691, Bootless. What does this word mean? 694. Beetled. What is the figure of speech here? 194 Lady of the Lake 702. Battled fence. Parapet. 77S. Minion. What is the meaning of this term? 809. Henchman. A vassal to a Lord, always at his side, or haunch, to do' his bidding, or venture his life in his master's defense. 831. Fiery Cross. See Canto III, line 18, 867. Cormorant. What is this? How much is the plot advanced in this Canto? Does Scott paint Roderick in too dark colors ? Does he show Malcolm off to the best advantage? Did Douglas act wisely^ in the quarrel between Malcolm and Roderick? How do the purely descriptive passages in this Canto compare with those in Canto I ? What dramatic elements do you find in this Canto? What customs of the Highlanders do you find in this Canto? Canto III 18. The Fiery Cross. The method of summoning a clan by performing the ceremony of The Fiery Cross is fully explained in the action of this Canto. Scott's own " Notes '' give additional information. On one occasion it made the circuit of the district of Breadalbane, a tract of land of thirty-two miles, in three hours. 25-28. What is the meaning of these lines ? 39. Cushat dove. Ring-dove. 62. Rozvan. The mountain-ash. 65, Brian the Hermit. Again Scott's account in the poem is ample description of this monk, but his " Notes " give addi- tional explanation of his origin and the customs of the time. 74. Benharrozv. A mountain near the head of Loch Lomond. 76. Druid. A priest of the early Celtic inhabitants of Gaul and Britain. 81. Flallowcd creed. What is the meaning of this phrase? 87. Strath. A broad valley in contrast to a glen, a nar- row one. 104. Fieldfare. English thrush. 142. Cabala. Mysteries. 154. River Demon. A malicious spirit of the Lowlands. 168. Bcn-Shie. A personal spirit which is supposed to watch over one's prosperity, warding off calamity by a " boding scream." 171. Shingly. Pebbly. 191. Inch-calliach. The Isle of Nuns, a beautiful island at the lower end of Loch Lomond. 198. Anathema. Meaning of this word? 253. Coir-Uriskin. Den of the wild men, a very steep and romantic hollow in the mountain of Benvenue. See Stanza xxvi of this Canto. 255. Beala-nam-bo. Pass of the cattle, near Coir-Uriskin. 286. Lanrick mead. Near Loch Vennachar. 195 Lady of the Lake 310. Scaur. Cliff. 341, Achray. A lake between Loch Katrine and Loch Vennachar. 344. Bosky. Woody. 349. Duncraggan. Near the Brigg of Turk. 369. Coronach. A song of lamentation. Music of this song can be procured and should be played or sung while studying this Canto. The metre is different from any that precedes. Scan it. 386. Corrci. Hollow in which game hides. 387. Cumber. Trouble. 394. Stumah. " Faithful," the name of a dog. 453- Strath-Ire. A valley on the east of Benledi. 480-1. Tomhca and Armandave. Two homesteads in Strath-Ire. 528. Ltihnaig's lake. A lake near Benledi. 541. Brae. Meaning of this word? 544. This song also has been set to music and should be used. 546. Bracken. Fern. 570. Balquidder. A village near the east end of Loch Voil, the burial place of Rob Roy. 577. Coil. Turmoil. 579. Loch Doinc. A lake above Loch Voil. 580. Balvaig. A stream connecting these lakes. 582. Strath-Gartncy. The north side of Loch Katrine. 607-9. Rcdnock, Car dross, Duchray. Nearby castles. 610. Loch Con. Southwest of Loch Katrine. 713. Ave Maria. Use Schubert's beautiful setting to this song. In the second stanza of this Canto we have a description of a lake. The general atmosphere of this description is par- alleled in Debussy's music, " En Bateau," which is worth playing while these lines are read. The appeal to patriotism in stanzas xiv and xv is well expressed in the music of Sibelius' " Fin- landia." Follov/ the co'urse of The Fiery Cross on the map. What elements of plot in this Canto correspond with the rising action of a play? Discuss the part superstition plays in the Highlander's mind. What is the most vivid descriptive passage in this Canto? Canto IV 5. Wilding. Poetic for wild. 19. Doune. A castle on the north bank of the Teith re- ferred to in " Waverley." 29. Glentarkin. The name of the sleeper's homestead used for his own name. What figure of speech? 2,6. Boune. Ready. 63. Taghairm. A Highland ceremony of inquiring into the 196 Lady of the Lake future, practised also by the Latins and Greeks. See Virgil's ^nid," vii, 86. 68. Gallangad. A district below Loch Lomond. yZ- Kerns. Light-armed soldiers. Heavy-armed soldiers were called gallowglasses. See " Macbeth," i, 2, 13. 74. Beal 'maha. East of Loch Lomond. yy. Dcnnan's Roiv. The point from which best to ascend Ben Lomond . 78. Scathlcss. Meaning of this word? 82. Boss. Knob. 84. Hero's Targe. A rock in the forest of Glenfinals by which a cataract takes its course. 98. Broke. Cutting up the deer. 112. Sentient. Meaning of this word? 137. Tasted blood. What figure of speech? 150. Glaive. Sword. What is the Latin for sword? 152-3. Moray, Mar. Commanders in the army of King James. 160. Earn. A river of that name, and the district about Loch Earn. 174. Stance. Station or position. 198. Streamers of the north. What is this reference? 223. Trowed. Believed. What English word does this suggest ? 231. Cambns-kenneth. An abbey near Stirling. Meaning of fane? 262. Mavis, merle. Thrush, blackbird. Scan this ballad. Compare it with the Robin Hood ballads. 267, 305. Wold. Open country, not woods. 277. Vest. Garment in general. Pall. Rich cloth from which mantles are made. 285. Vair. Fur of the grey squirrel. 298. Woned. Dwelt. 306. Fatal green. Fairies were supposed to prefer this color, and to take offense if mortals wore it. 307. Urgan. A fairy messenger. 330. Kindly. Kindred. 371. Dunfermline. A town northwest of Edinburgh, long the residence of Scottish kings, and in the abbey of which Robert Bruce lies buried. 392. Augur scathe. Predict mischief. 437. Train. Enticement. 500. Fared. Went. What other words contain faref 506. Weeds. Garments. " Widow's weeds." 511. Broom. Heather. 531. Allan. A Perthshire stream. "On the Banks of Allan Water," Burns. 532. Dcva. A Perthshire stream. " Crystal Devon, Winding Devon," Burns. 555. Maudlin. Contracted from Magdalen. Mary Magda- 197 Lady of the Lake lene is represented by painters as weeping. How do^ we use this word to-day? 567. Batten. Fatten. 590, ToilSy stakes. Snares. What is the significance of this song? 722. Summer solstice. What date is this? 787. Coilant ogle's ford. On the Teith River just below Loch Vennachar. What is the meaning of Norman's song? Which is more expressive, this poem or MacDowell's composition, " To a Wild Rose"? Which song in this Canto is the most significant? Could it be omitted from the poem without' affecting the action ? What was the origin of Brian's prophecy, and how seriously was it considered by the Highlanders? How sincere was James with Ellen? How would you treat this story if Ellen had accepted James's offer? Was Blanche's request of James suf- ficient to induce him to wreak vengeance on Roderick? Is Roderick's hospitality toward James more than mere hospitality? Any new traits of the characters shown in this Canto? Is the turning point of the story in this Canto? Canto V 18. Gael. Highlander. Saxon is Lowlander. 89. Mar. The Earl of Mar. 108. Regent. The Duke of Albany, relative to James. 125. Truncheon. A staff, symbol of authority. 126. Mezvcd. Imprisoned. 153. Target and claymore. Weapons of the ancient Britons. 253. Jack. Coat-oif-armor worn by foot-soldiers. 356. Carpet knight. A knight who graces the court rather than the battlefield. 364. Ruth. Pity. 373. Falchion. What kind of an implement? 380. Targe. Shield. 390. What figure of speech is this line? 468. Bayard. His bay horse. 488. Carhonie's hill. A mile from Loch Vannachar. 490. Torry, Lendrick, Deanstozun. Towns on the Tieth near Stirling. 494-502. Blair-Drummond, Ochtcrtyre, Kiev, Craig-Forth. Family seats known to Scott. 525. Saint Serle. An invention of Scott to rhyme with Earl. 550. A Douglas. See " Tales of a Grandfather," chap. xxi. 558. Franciscan. The steeple of Grey-Friars, built by James IV in 1494. The Franciscans were Grey-Friars. Name the other orders. 562. Morrice-danccrs. A masked dance introduced into Scotland from Spain. See "The Abbot," Chap, xiv, for an interesting description of these dances. 198 Lady of the Lake 564. Every burgh in Scotland had its day of sports. 572. Stark. Strong. 584. Jennet. What is a jennet? 613. Butts. Targets. 614. Robin Hood. Tell the class some of the stories of Robin Hood and his followers listed in the lines following. Read Scott's " Ivanhoe," Tennyson's " The Foresters," Noyes' " Sherwood," and the Ballads of Robin Hood. For a number of years a masquerade of this band played a large part in the folk festivals. After the Reformation they were prohibited. 615. Qiiarterstaff. Recall the incident of Friar Tuck and his quarterstafif in " Ivanhoe." 630. Wight. An ordinary archer. 6^7. Larbert. A town ten miles south of Stirling. 638. Alloa. A town seven miles east of Stirling. 660. Ladies" Rock. A point in the valley between Stirling Castle and Greyfriars Church. 729. Amain. With violence. 747. Ward. Confinement. 768. Hynford. A village on the Clyde River. 769. Knighthood. How was knighthood conferred? 838. Cognizance. The distinguishing mark worn by an armed knight. " The sable pale of Mar." See Canto IV, 153. 887. Earl William. The Douglas who was stabbed by James II. Study carefully the description of the fight between James and Roderick, and note how dramatically it is given in poetry. Compare it with a prose account of a fight ; for example, " The Breakfast at the Bastion," in " The Three Musketeers," Dumas, or in some modern story. Compare the account of the sports with those in Homer's "Iliad," xxiii; Virgil's " ^nid," v, and Milton's " Paradise Lost," ii, 506-569. In reading stanzas i and ii of this Canto, play Rossini's " Dawn," from the " William Tell " overture, and note how the composer has described in music what the poet has told in words. What elements of human character may be seen in the fight between Roderick and James, and in the intercourse between James and the Douglas at the sports ? ^ Note that the imprisonment of Ellen's father creates a situation of dramatic suspense, in light of the pledge given Ellen by James in Canto IV. Canto VI 3. What is a catifF? 15. What is the meaning of gyve? 42. Harness. Armor. 53. Fleming. The Flemish were blest with fertile soil. 60. Halberd. A combination of spear and battle-ax. 75. Burden. Chorus. 78. Trent. A river in England. 199 Lady of the Lake 8i. Host. Army. Compare the Biblical use, " Hosts of the Philistines." III. Ghent. A town in Flanders. 128. Wax. Meaning? Can you quote a line in a hymn using this word? 131. Juggler. Jongleurs. Who were they? 170. Needwood. A forest in Staffordshire, England. 183. Tullibardine. An estate near Stirling. 221. Hest. Command. 227. Guerdon. Reward. 234. Barret-cap. Cloth cap. 290, Garniture. What does this word mean? 2gs. Leech. Physician. Why so called? 306. Prore. Prow, a poetic use. 347. Dermid's race. The clan of the Campbells. 369. Beal an Duine. Pass of the man. A fight really took place here, ending as Allan describes, but it occurred later than this, in the time of Cromwell. 277. Eyry. Nest. Erne. Eagle. 405. Battalia. Army. 414. Vaivard. Vanward, or vanguard. 452. Tinchel. A circle oif sportsmen surrounding the deer in the chase. 488. Linn. Cataract. 539. Bonnet-pieces. Gold pieces on which were stamped the head of King James wearing a bonnet, or cap. 545. Casque, corslet. What are they? 553. Riven. How used here? 576. Elemental rage. Rage of the elements. 586. Bothzvell's lord. Douglas. 591. Bracked. Endured. 611. Requiem. What is a requiem? 638. Storied pane. Windows on which stories were painted. Can you find a similar line in Milton's "II Penseroso"? 642. Collation. Banquet. 665. Perch and hood. What do these terms mean? 668. Thrall. What is the meaning of this word? 707. Prime. This word usually refers to 6 a.m., an hour of prayer, but here means the first thing in the morning. 726. Presence. Presence-chamber. 737- Sheen. What does this word mean? Suggest a word derived from it. 740. Scott borrowed this idea of disguise from Scottish tra- ditiom, though some see in it a reference to the old Arabian tale, " II Bondocani." 741. What figure of speech in this line? 780. Pry. Look curiously. 782. Proselyte. 784. To speed. To a favorable conclusion. 200 Lady of the Lake 802. Talisman. Charm. 813. Grace. Pardon. 825. Stained. How used here? 837. Warder. How used? Compare the structure and meaning of the Epilogue, " Harp of the North, farewell ! " etc., with the same elements in the Prologue at the very beginning of the poem. What qualities of human nature are exhibited by the soldiers in the Guard-room? Which is the more vivid, the fight between Roderick and James, or the battle of Beal' an Duine as described by Allan-Bane? Stanzas xxiii and xxiv describe the song of the imprisoned huntsman singing to Ellen as she listens. Saint-Saens' " Sere- nade " suggests this scene, the 'cello indicating the air and the harp suggesting the general backgroimd. Follow the progress of the poem as a story and as a drama. Compare the characters and scenes with your own acquaintances and observations. Com- pare them with others in Scott's novels or other books. 201 IV i^ ^o ^^. ^ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxrde %r> *^^iv* Treatment Date: May 2009 Ao^ , PreservationTechnologies ^ O A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION ^ »* 111 Thomson Park Drive «0 rj^ Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 V^^\^^ %/-T£^r^>^' \-'^^. ■'•e^o^ R\.^'\ ':