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;
Yet dare not say, that now his blood
Kept on its wont and temper'd flood,
As, following Roderick's stride, he drew
That seeming lonesome path-way through,
Which yet, by fearful proof, was rife 280
With lances, that, to take his life,
Waited but signal from a guide,
So late dishonoured and defied.
Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round
The vanish'd guardians of the ground, 285
And still, from copse and heather deep,
Fancy saw spear and broad-sword peep,
And in the plover's shrilly strain,
The signal whistle heard again.
Nor breathed he free till far behind
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.
The Chief in silence strode before,
And reach'd that torrent's sounding shore,
Which, daughter of three mighty lakes,
From Vennachar in silver breaks,
Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless
mines
On Bochastle the mouldering lines,
Where Rome, the Empress of the world,
Of yore her eagle wings unfurled.
And here his course the Chieftain staid,
Threw down his target and his plaid
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,
Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff,- 335
There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff.
Thus Fate has 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,
Or if the King shall not agree
To grant thee grace and favour free,
I plight mine honour, oath, and word,
That, to thy native strengths restored,
With each advantage shalt thou stand, $45
That aids thee now to guard thy land.'-
Dark lightning flash'd from Roderick's eye'Soars thy presumption then so high, Because a wretched kern ye slew, Homage to name to Roderick Dhu? 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 valour 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! It nerves my heart, it steels my sword! 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, Proud Chief! can courtesy be shewn; 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. But fear not-doubt not-which thou wiltWe try this quarrel hilt to hilt.'Then each at once his falchion drew, Each on the ground his scabbard threw, Each look'd to sun, and stream, and plain, As what they ne'er might see again; Then foot, and point, and eye opposed, In dubious strife they darkly closed.
Foiled his wild rage by steady skill;
Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand,
Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand,
And, backwards borne upon the lea,
Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee.
'Now, yield thee, or, by Him who made The world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade!'
'Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy! 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; Received, but reck'd not of a wound, And lock'd 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, 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 compress'd, His knee was planted in his breast: His clotted locks he backward threw, Across his brow his hand he drew, From blood and mist to clear his sight, Then gleam'd aloft his dagger bright!-But hate and fury ill supplied The stream of life's exhausted tide, And all too late the advantage came, To turn the odds of deadly game; For, while the dagger gleamed on high, Reel'd soul and sense, reel'd brain and eye. Down came the blow! but in the heath The erring blade found bloodless sheath. The struggling foe may now unclasp The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp; Unwounded from the dreadful close, But breathless all, Fitz-James arose.
Then faint afar are heard the feet
Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet;
The sounds increase, and now are seen
Four mounted squires in Lincoln_green;
Two who bear lance, and two who lead,
By loosen'd rein, a saddled steed;
Each onward held his headlong course,
And by Fitz-James rein'd up his horse,-
With wonder view'd the bloody spot--
-Exclaim not, gallants! question not.
You, Herbert and Luffness, alight,
And bind the wounds of yonder knight;
Let the grey palfrey bear his weight,
We destined for a fairer freight,
And bring him on to Stirling straight;
I will before at better speed,
To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. (1)
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.
'Stand, Bayard, stand!'-the steed obey'd, 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 staid, No grasp upon the saddle laid, But wreath'd his left hand in the mane, And lightly bounded from the plain, Turn'd on the horse his armed heel, And stirr'd his courage with the steel. 475 Bounded the fiery steed in air, The rider sate erect and fair, Then, like a bolt from steel cross-bow Forth launch'd, along the plain they go.
Public games are instituted by the monarch at Stirling, in all of which the first prizes are gained by a stranger, who contemptuously throws the gold pieces, he has won, to the crowd. The victor is at last discovered to be Douglas, and the King, displeased, orders him to be arrested. Douglas has come to Stirling to solicit the liberation of young Malcolm Graeme, Ellen's lover, at that time a prisoner of state. The monarch rides back to the Castle, much chagrined at the acclamations with which Douglas has been greeted by the people.
The offended Monarch rode apart, With bitter thought and swelling heart, And would not now vouchsafe again 435 Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 'O Lennox, who would wish to rule This changeling crowd, this common fool? Hear'st thou,' he said, 'the loud acclaim, With which they shout the Douglas name? With like acclaim, the vulgar throat Strain'd for King James their morning note; With like acclaim they hail'd the day 810 When first I broke the Douglas' sway;
He faltered thanks to heaven for life, Redeem'd, unhoped, from desperate strife; Next on his foe his look he cast, Whose every gasp appear'd his last. With that he blew a bugle-note, Undid the collar from his throat, Unbonneted, and by the wave
Sate down his brow and hands to lave.
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,
And fickle as a changeful dream;
Fantastic as a woman's mood,
And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood.
Thou many-headed monster-thing,
O who would wish to be thy king!-
'But soft! what messenger of speed
Spurs hitherward his panting steed?
I guess his cognizance afar
What from our cousin, John of Mar?' 825
'He prays my liege, your sports keep bound
Within the safe and guarded ground:
For some foul purpose yet unknown,-
Most sure for evil to the throne,-
The outlaw'd Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 830
Has summon'd his rebellious crew;
'Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid
These loose banditti stand array'd.
The Earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune,
To break their muster march'd, and soon
Your grace will hear of battle fought;
But earnestly the Earl besought,
Till for such danger he provide,
With scanty train you will not ride.'
At dawn the towers of Stirling rang With soldier-step and weapon-clang, With drums, with rolling note, foretell Relief to weary sentinel.
Through narrow loop and casement barr'd,
The sunbeams sought the Court of Guard,
And struggling with the smoky air,
Deaden'd the torches' yellow glare.
In comfortless alliance shone
The lights through arch of blacken'd stone,
"Thou warn'st me I have done amiss,- 840 And show'd wild shapes in garb of war,
I should have earlier look'd to this:
Faces deform'd with beard and scar,
All haggard from the midnight-watch
And fever'd with the stern debauch;
For the oak table's massive board,
Flooded with wine, with fragments stored,
And beakers drain'd, and cups o'erthrown,
Show'd in what sport the night had flown.
Some, weary, snored on floor and bench;
Some labour'd still their thirst to quench;
850 Some, chill'd with watching, spread their
hands
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. 855
Bear Mar our message, Braco, fly.'-
He turn'd his steed, 'My liege, I hie,
Yet, ere I cross this lily lawn,
I fear the broad-swords will be drawn.'The turf the flying courser spurn'd,
And to his towers the King return'd.
The warder's challenge, heard without, Staid in mid-roar the merry shout. A soldier to the portal went,'Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent; And,-beat for jubilee the drum!
'I shame me of the part I play'd: And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid! An outlaw I by forest-laws,
40 And merry Needwood knows the cause.
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:
There lies my halbert on the floor;
And he that steps my halbert o'er,
To do the maid injurious part,
My shaft shall quiver in his heart!-
Beware loose speech, or jesting rough:
Ye all know John de Brent. Enough.' 110
A maid and minstrel with him come.'-
Bertram, a Fleming, grey and scarr'd,
Was entering now the Court of Guard,
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 roar'd:-'I only know,
From noon till, eve we fought with foe, 50
As wild and as untameable,
As the rude mountains where they dwell,
On both sides store of blood is lost,
Nor much success can either boast.'-
'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,
The leader of a juggler-band.'-
'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,
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,
Ever to strife and jangling bent,
'Shall he strike doe beside our lodge,
And yet the jealous niggard grudge
To pay the forester his fee?
I'll have my share howe'er it be,
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;
But Ellen boldly stepp'd between,
And dropp'd at once the tartan screen;
So, from his morning cloud, appears
The sun of May, through summer tears.
The savage soldiery, amazed,
As on descended angel gazed;
Even hardy Brent, abash'd and tamed,
Stood half admiring, half ashamed.
Boldly she spoke, 'Soldiers, attend!
My father was the soldier's friend:
Cheer'd him in camps, in marches led,
And with him in the battle bled.
Not from the valiant, or the strong,
Should exile's daughter suffer wrong.'-
Answer'd De Brent, most forward still
In every feat or good or ill, —
Their Captain came, a gallant young,(Of Tullibardine's house he sprung,) Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight: Gay was his mien, his humour light, And, though by courtesy controll'd, Forward his speech, his bearing bold. The high-born maiden ill could brook The scanning of his curious look And dauntless eye;-and yet, in sooth, Young Lewis was a generous youth; But Ellen's lovely face and mien, Ill suited to the garb and scene, Might lightly bear construction strange, And give loose fancy scope to range.
'Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid! 125 Come ye to seek a champion's aid,
On palfrey white, with harper hoar,
Like errant damosel of yore?
Does thy high quest a knight require,
Or may the venture suit a squire?'
Her dark eye flash'd;-she paused and sigh'd, O what have I to do with pride!-Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife,
A suppliant for a father's life,
I crave an audience of the King.
Behold, to back my suit, a ring,
The royal pledge of grateful claims,
Given by the Monarch to Fitz-James.'
The signet ring young Lewis took With deep respect and alter'd look; And said, "This ring our duties own; And, pardon, if to worth unknown, In semblance mean obscurely veil'd, Lady, in aught my folly fail'd.
Soon as the day flings wide his gates, 145 The King shall know what suitor waits.
Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower Repose you till his waking hour;
Female attendance shall obey
Your hest, for service or array.
Permit I marshal you the way."
But, ere she follow'd, with the grace And open bounty of her race,
She bade her slender purse be shared
Among the soldiers of the guard.
The rest with thanks their guerdon took;
But Brent, with shy and awkward look,
On the reluctant maiden's hold
Forced bluntly back the proffer'd gold;-
'Forgive a haughty English heart,
And oh forget its ruder part!
The vacant purse shall be my share,
Which in my barret-cap I'll bear,
Perchance in jeopardy of war,
Where gayer crests may keep afar.- 165
With thanks,-'twas all she could,-the maid
His rugged courtesy repaid,
While bolt and chain he backward roll'd,
And made the bar unhasp its hold.
They enter'd:-'twas 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
Deck'd the sad walls and oaken floor; 220
Such as the rugged days of old
Deem'd fit for captive noble's hold.
'Here,' said De Brent, thou may'st remain
Till the Leech (1) visit him again.
Strict is his charge, the warders tell,
To tend the noble prisoner well.'—
Retiring then the bolt he drew,
And the lock's murmurs growl'd anew.
Roused at the sound, from lowly bed
170 A captive feebly raised his head;
The wondering Minstrel look'd, and knew-
Not his dear lord, but Roderick Dhu!
For, come from where Clan-Alpine fought,
They, erring, deem'd the Chief he sought.
175 As the tall ship, whose lofty prore
Shall never stem the billows more,
Deserted by her gallant band,
Amid the breakers lies astrand,
So, on his couch, lay Roderick Dhu!
And oft his fever'd 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;-
Oh! 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!
Have they been ruin'd 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.) -
'Who fought-who fled?-Old man, be
brief;-
When Ellen forth with Lewis went,
Allan made suit to John of Brent:-
'My lady safe, oh, let your grace
Give me to see my master's face!
His minstrel I,-to share his doom
Bound from the cradle to the tomb.
Tenth in descent, since first my sires
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 sooth the infant heir,
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 sooth his sleep,
Nor leave him till we pour our verse,-
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;
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,
More than to guide the labouring steer, 195
I had not dwelt an outcast here.
Come, good old Minstrel, follow me;
Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see.'-
Then, from a rusted iron hook,
A bunch of ponderous keys he took,
Lighted a torch, and Allan led
Through grated arch and passage dread.
Portals they pass'd, where, deep within,
Spoke prisoner's moan, and fetters' din;
Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored,
Lay wheel, and axe, and headman's sword,
And many an hideous engine grim,
For wrenching joint, and crushing limb,
By artists form'd who deem'd it shame
And sin to give their work a name.
They halted at a low-brow'd porch,
And Brent to Allan gave the torch,
Some might--for they had lost their
Chief.
Who basely live?-who bravely died?'---
'Oh, calm thee, Chief!' the Minstrel cried,
'Ellen is safe;'-'For that thank Heaven!'
'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.
Thy stately pine is yet unbent,
Though many a goodly bough is rent.'-
The Chieftain reared his form on high, And fever's fire was in his eye;
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