THE LADY OF THE LAKE By SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. WITH NOTES AND ANALYTICAL AND EXPLANATORY INDEX xiii. — Maronnan's cell. The parish of Kilmaronock, at the eastern extremity of Loch-Lomond, derives its name from a cell or chapel, dedi¬ cated to Saint Maronoch, or Marnoch, or Maronnan, about whose, sanctity very little is now remembered. There is a fountain devoted to him in the same parish ; but its virtues, like the merits of its patron, have fallen into oblivion. 44 ) xiv.— Bracklinr? s thundering wave. This is a beautiful cascade made by a mountain stream called the Keltie, at the Bridge of Bracklinn, about a mile from the village of Callander in Menteith. 45 ) xv -—For Tine-man forged by fairy lore. Archibald, the third Earl of Douglas, was so unfortunate in all his enterprises, that he acquired the epithet of Tine- man, because he tined, or lost, his followers in every battle which he fought. He was vanquished, as every reader must remember, in the . bloody battle of Homildon-hill, near Wooler, where he himself lost an eye, and was made prisoner by Hotspur. He was no less unfortunate when allied with Percy, being wounded and taken at the battle of Shrewsbury. He was so unsuccessful in an attempt to besiege Roxburgh Castle, that it was called the Foul Raid, or disgraceful expe¬ dition., His ill fortune left him indeed at the battle of Beauge, in France ; but it was only to return with double emphasis at the subsequent action of Vernoil, the last and most unlucky of his encounters, in which he fell, with the flower of the Scottish chivalry, then serving as auxiliaries in France, and about two thousand common soldiers, A. D. 1424. 46, xv.— Did, self unscabbarded, foreshow The footstep of a secret foe. The ancient warriors, whose hope and confidence rested chiefly in their blades, were accustomed to deduce omens fiom them, especially from such as were supposed to have been fabricated by enchanted skill, of which we have various instances in the romances and legends of the time. The wonderful sword Skofnung, wielded by the celebrated Hrolf Kraka, was of NOTES TO CANTO II. 69 this description.—See Bartholini de Causis Coniemptce a Danis adhuc Gentilibus Mortis, Libri Tres. Hafnice, 1689, p. 574. 47, xvii. — Those thrilling sounds, that call the might Of old Clan-Alpine to the fight. The connoisseurs in pipe-music affect to discover in a well- composed pibroch the imitative sounds of march, conflict, flight, pursuit, and all “the current of a heady fight.”—See Dr. Beattie’s Essay on Laughter, chap. iii. note. 49, xix.— Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe ! Besides his ordinary name and surname, which were chiefly used in the intercourse with the Lowlands, every Highland chief had an epithet expressive of his patriarchal dignity as head of the clan, and which was common to all his prede¬ cessors and successors, as Pharaoh to the kings of Egypt, or Arsaces to those of Parthia. This name was usually a pat¬ ronymic, expressive of his descent from the founder of the family. Thus the Duke of Argyle is called MacCailean More, or the son of Colin the Great. Sometimes, however, it is derived from armorial distinctions, or the memory of some great feat ; thus Lord Seaforth, as chief of the Mackenzies, or Clan-Kenneth, bears the name of Caber-fae, or Buck's Head, as representative of Colin Fitzgerald, founder of the family, who saved the Scottish king, when endangered by a stag. But besides this title, which belonged to his office and dignity, the chieftain had usually another peculiar to himself, which distinguished him from the chieftains of the same race. This was sometimes derived from complexion, as dhu or roy ; sometimes from size, as beg or more ; at other times, from some peculiar exploit, or some peculiarity of habit or appearance. The line of the text signifies, “Roderick, son of Black Alpine. ”* The song itself is intended as an imitation of the jorrams, or boat songs, of the Highlanders, which were usually com¬ posed in honour of a favourite chief. They are so adapted as to keep time with the sw r eep of the oars, and it is easy to distinguish between those intended to be sung to the oars of a galley, where the stroke is lengthened and doubled, and those which were timed to the rowers of an ordinary boat. * [See note in Index under Chorus. 1 70 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 49, xx. — The best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side. The Lennox, -as the district is called, which encircles the lower extremity of Loch Lomond, was peculiarly exposed to the incursions of the mountaineers, who inhabited the inac¬ cessible fastnesses at the upper end of the lake, and the neighbouring district of Loch Katrine. These were often marked by circumstances of great ferocity, of which the noted conflict of Glen-Fruin is a celebrated instance.* 56, xxviii.— The King's vindictive pride Boasts to have tamed the Border-side. In 1529, James V. made a convention at Edinburgh, for the purpose of considering the best mode of quelling the Border robbers, who, during the license of his minority, and the troubles which followed, had committed many exorbi¬ tances.—See Pitscottie’s History, p. 153. 57 ? xxviii.— What grace for Highland chiefs, judge ye, By fate of Border chivalry. James was, in fact, equally attentive to restrain rapine and feudal oppression in every part of his dominions. “ The king past to the Isles, and there held justice courts, and punished both thief and traitor according to their demerit.”—See Pit- scottie, p. 152. 62, xxxv.— Pity ’twere Such cheek should fed the midnight air ! Hardihood was in every respect so essential to the character of a Highlander, that the reproach of effeminacy was the most bitter which could be thrown upon him. Yet it was sometimes hazarded on what we might presume to think slight grounds .—See Letters from Scotland, vol. ii. p. 108. * [An account of this battle is given in the Introduction to “Rob Roy.”] CANTO THIRD. Stye datljerittjg. i. T IME 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 happ’d by land or sea, How are they blotted from the things that be ! How few, all weak and wither’d 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, 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, What time aloft their kindred banner flew, While clamorous war-pipes yell’d the gathering sound, And while the F iery Cross glanced, like a meteor, round. il. The Summer dawn’s reflected hue To purple changed Loch Katrine blue; Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kiss’d 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 Were neither broken nor at rest; In bright uncertainty they lie, Like future joys to Fancy’s eye. The water-lily to the light Her chalice rear’d of silver bright; The doe awoke, and to the lawn, Begemm’d with dewdrops, led her fawn ; The grey mist left the mountain side, The torrent show’d its glistening pride; Invisible in flecked sky, The lark sent down her revelry; The blackbird and the speckled thrush Good-morrow gave from brake and bush; In answer coo’d the cushat dove Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. 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 His hand on his impatient blade. CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. 73 X'-- Beneath a rock, his vassals’ care Was prompt the ritual to prepare, With deep and deathful meaning fraught; For such Antiquity had taught 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, As, from the cliffs of Ben venue, 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. IV. A heap of wither’d 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, Bare-footed, in his frock and hood. His grisled beard and matted hair Obscured a visage of despair; His naked arms and legs, seam’d o’er, The scars of frantic penance bore. 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, But Druid’s, from the grave released, 74 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iii . Whose harden’d heart and eye might brook On human sacrifice to look. And much, ’twas said, of heathen lore Mix’d in the charms he mutter’d o’er; The hallow’d creed gave only worse And deadlier emphasis of curse. No peasant sought that Hermit’s prayer, His cave the pilgrim shunn’d with care; The eager huntsman knew his bound, And in mid chase call’d off his hound; Or if, in lonely glen or strath, The desert-dweller met his path, He pray’d, and sign’d the cross between, While terror took devotion’s mien. V. Of Brian’s birth strange tales were told, His mother watch’d a midnight fold, Built deep within a dreary glen, Where scatter’d lay the bones of men, In some forgotten battle slain, And bleach’d by drifting wind and rain. It might have tamed a warrior’s heart, To view such mockery of his art! The knot-grass fetter’d there the hand, Which once could burst an iron band; Beneath the broad and ample bone, That buckler’d heart to fear unknown, A feeble and a timorous guest, The field-fare framed her lowly nest ; There the slow blind-worm left his slime On the fleet limbs that mock’d at time ; CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. 75 And there, too, lay the leader’s skull, Still wreath’d with chaplet, flush’d and full, For heath-bell, with her purple bloom, Supplied the bonnet and the plume. All night, in this sad glen, the maid Sate, 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 The virgin snood did Alice wear ; Gone was her maiden glee and sport, Her maiden girdle all too short, Nor sought she, from that fatal night, Or holy church or blessed rite, But lock’d her secret in her breast, And died in travail unconfess’d. VI. Alone, among his young compeers, Was Brian from his infant years ; A moody and heart-broken boy, Estranged from sympathy and joy, Bearing each taunt which careless tongue On his mysterious lineage flung. Whole nights he spent by moonlight pale, To wood and stream his hap to wail, 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, The cloister oped her pitying gate ; 76 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto hi. In vain, the learning of the age Unclasp’d the sable-letter page ; Even in its treasures he could find Food for the fever of his mind. 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, 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. 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, Of noontide hag, or goblin grim ; The midnight wind came wild and dread, Swell’d with the voices of the dead ; Far on the future battle-heath His eye beheld the ranks of death : Thus the lone seer, from mankind hurl’d, Shaped forth a disembodied world. One lingering sympathy of mind Still bound him to the mortal kind ; The only parent he could claim Of ancient Alpine’s lineage came. CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. 77 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 Along Benharrow’s shingly side, Where mortal horseman ne’er might ride ; The thunderbolt had split the pine,— All augur’d ill to Alpine’s line. He girt his loins, and came to show 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, 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 clogg’d beard and shaggy limb, Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim. The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, A slender crosslet form’d with care, A cubit’s length in measure due ; The shafts and limbs were rods of yew, 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 form’d he held on high, With wasted hand, and haggard eye, 78 THE LADY OF THE LAIOE. [canto in. And strange and mingled feelings woke, While his anathema he spoke : IX. “ Woe to the clansman, who shall view This symbol of sepulchral yew, 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, 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, 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, And flings to shore his muster’d force, Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarse, “Woe to the traitor, woe !” Ben-an’s grey scalp the accents knew, The joyous wolf from covert drew, The exulting eagle scream’d afar,— They knew the voice of Alpine’s war. X. The shout was hush’d on lake and fell, The Monk resumed his mutter’d spell : CANTO III.] THE GATHERING . Dismal and low its accents came, The while he scathed the Cross with flame ; 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 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, 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, And infamy and woe.” Then rose the cry of females, shrill As goss-hawk’s whistle on the hill, Denouncing misery and ill, Mingled with childhood’s babbling trill Of curses stammer’d 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, We doom to want and woe !” A sharp and shrieking echo gave, Coir-Uriskin, thy goblin cave ! And the grey pass where birches wave, On Beala-nam-bo. 8o THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto nr. XI. Then deeper paused the priest anew, And hard his labouring breath he drew, While, with set teeth and clenched hand, And eyes that glow’d like fiery brand, He meditated curse more dread, And deadlier, on the clansman’s head, Who, summon’d to his chieftian’s aid, The signal saw and disobey’d. The crosslet’s points of sparkling wood, He quench’d among the bubbling blood, And as again the sign he rear’d, Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard : “ When flits this Cross from man to mail, Vich-Alpine’s summons to his clan, Burst be the ear that fails to heed ! 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 l 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 agen 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 CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. 81 The crosslet to his henchman brave. “ 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, So rapidly the barge-men row, The bubbles, where they launch’d the boat, Were all unbroken and afloat, Dancing in foam and ripple still, When it had near’d the mainland hill ; 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 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; 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, Yet shrink not from the desperate leap ; Parch’d are thy burning lips and brow, Yet by the fountain pause not now ; Herald of battle, fate, and fear, F 82 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto Stretch onward in thy fleet career ! 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, 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 pour’d each hardy tenant down. Nor slack’d the messenger his pace ; He show’d the sign, he named the place, And, pressing forward like the wind, Left clamour and surprise behind. The fisherman forsook the strand, The swarthy smith took dirk and brand ; With changed cheer, the mower blithe Left in the half-cut swathe the scythe ; The herds without a keeper stray’d, The plough was in mid-furrow staid, The falc’ner toss’d his hawk away, The hunter left the stag at bay ; Prompt at the signal of alarms, Each son of Alpine rush’d to arms ; So swept the tumult and affray 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 CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. *3 So stilly on thy bosom deep, The lark’s blithe carol, from the cloud, Seems for the scene too gaily loud. XV. Speed, Malise, speed ! The lake is past, Duncraggan’s huts appear at last, And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen, Half hidden in the copse so green ; There mayst thou rest, thy labour done, Their Lord shall speed the signal on.— As stoops the hawk upon his prey, The henchman shot him down the way. —What woeful accents load the gale ? The funeral yell, the female wail! A gallant hunter’s sport is o’er, A valiant warrior fights no more. Who, in the battle or the chase, At Roderick’s side shall fill his place ! — Within the hall, where torches’ ray Supplies the excluded beams of day, Lies Duncan on his lowly bier, And o’er him streams his widow’s tear. His stripling son stands mournful by, His youngest weeps, but knows not why ; The village maids and matrons round The dismal coronach resound. XVI. (fTorott&d). He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, s 4 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto hi. Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font, reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, 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 Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber, Red hand in the foray, How sound is thy slumber ! Like the dew on the mountain, Like the foam on the river, Like the bubble on the fountain, Thou art gone, and for ever ! XVII. See Stumah, who, the bier beside, His master’s corpse with wonder eyed, 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, CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. 85 Who come 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; Before the dead man’s bier he stood; Held forth the Cross besmear’d with blood : “ The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; Speed forth the signal ! clansmen, speed !” XVIII. Angus, the heir of Duncan’s line, 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, Back to her open’d arms he flew, Press’d on her lips a fond adieu— “ Alas ! ” she sobb’d ,—“ and yet be gone, And speed thee forth, like Duncan’s son !” One look he cast upon the bier, Dash’d from his eye the gathering tear, Breathed deep to clear his labouring breast, And toss’d aloft his bonnet crest, Then, like the high-bred colt, when, freed, First he essays his fire and speed, He vanish’d, 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 mark’d the henchman’s eye 86 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iii Wet with unwonted sympathy, “ Kinsman,” she said, “ his race is run, That should have sped thine errand on ; The oak has fall’n,—the sapling- bough Is all Duncraggan’s shelter now. 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 hest your blades that drew, To arms, and guard that orphan’s head ! 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 Snatch’d sword and targe, with hurried hand; 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 borrow’d force; Grief claim’d 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, Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew; The tear that gather’d 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, CANTO III.] THE GATHERING . 87 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 reel’d his sympathetic eye, He dash’d amid the torrent’s roar: His right hand high the crosslet bore, His left the pole-axe grasp’d, to guide And stay his footing in the tide. He stumbled twice—the foam splash’d high^ With hoarser swell the stream raced by; And had he fall’n—for ever there, Farewell Duncraggan’s orphan heir! But still, as if in parting life, Firmer he grasp’d the Cross of strife, Until the opposing bank he gain’d, And up the chapel pathway strain’d. XX. A blithesome rout, that morning tide, Had sought the chapel of St Bride. Her troth Tombea’s Mary gave 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; And plaided youth, with jest and jeer, Which snooded maiden would not hear: And children, that, unwitting why, Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry; And minstrels, that in measures vied 88 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto til 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 ; The gallant bridegroom, by her “dde, Beheld his prize with victor’s pride, And the glad mother in her ear Was closely whispering word of cheer. XXI. Who meets them at the churchyard gate ? 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-soil’d he stood, The fatal sign of fire and sword Held forth, and spoke the appointed word: “The muster-place is Lanrick mead; Speed forth the signal! Norman, speed !”•— And must he change so soon the hand, Just link’d 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 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 delav; Stretch to the race—away ! away ! CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. XXII. Yet slow lie 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, 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 stirr’d ? The sickening pang of hope deferred, 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, 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 honours on his crest, To clasp his Mary to his breast. 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. The heath this night must be my bed, The bracken curtain for my head, My lullaby the warder’s tread, 90 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto in. Far, far, from love and thee, Mary; To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, My couch may be my bloody plaid, My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid ! It will not waken me, Mary ! I may not, dare not, fancy now The grief that clouds thy lovely brow, I dare not think upon thy vow, 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. 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 return’d from conquer’d foes, 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, 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, As o’er thy heaths the voice of war. CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. 91 The signal roused to martial coil, The sullen margin of Loch Voil, Waked still Loch Doine, and to the source Alarm’d, Balvaig, thy swampy course; Thence southward turn’d its rapid road Adown Strath-Gartney’s valley broad, Till rose in arms each man might claim A portion in Clan-Alpine’s name, From the grey sire, whose trembling hand Could hardly buckle on his brand, To the raw boy, whose shaft and bow Were yet scarce terror to the crow. Each valley, each sequester’d glen, Muster’d its little horde of men, 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 By hundreds prompt for blows and blood, Each train’d 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. XXV. That summer morn had Roderick Dhu Survey’d 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 ; Still lay each martial Graeme and Bruce, 92 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto hi. 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 ; All seem’d at peace—Now, wot ye why The Chieftain, with such anxious eye, Ere to the muster he repair, This western frontier scann’d with care ? In Benvenue’s most darksome cleft, A fair, though cruel, pledge was left; For Douglas, to his promise true, That morning from the isle withdrew, And in a deep sequester’d dell Had sought a low and lonely cell. 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, As e’er was trod by outlaw’s feet. The dell, upon the mountain’s crest, Yawn’d like a gash on warrior’s breast; Its trench had staid full many a rock, Hurl’d by primeval earthquake shock From Benvenue’s grey summit wild, And here, in random ruin piled, They frown’d incumbent o’er the spot, And form’d the rugged silvan grot. The oak and birch, with mingled shade, At noontide there a twilight made, CANTO [II.] THE GATHERING. 93 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. 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 The incessant war of wave and rock. Suspended cliffs, with hideous sway, Seem’d nodding o’er the cavern grey. From such a den the wolf had sprung, In such the wild-cat leaves her young ; Yet Douglas and his daughter fair Sought for a space their safety there. Grey Superstition’s whisper dread Debarr’d the spot to vulgar tread ; For there, she said, did fays resort, And satyrs hold their silvan 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, When Roderick, with a chosen few, Repass’d the heights of Benvenue. Above the Goblin-cave they go, Through the wild pass of Beal-nam-bo ; The prompt retainers speed before, To launch the shallop from the shore, 94 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto hi. 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, 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. It was a fair and gallant sight, To view them from the neighbouring height, By the low-levell’d sunbeam’s light; For strength and stature, from the clan Each warrior was a chosen man, 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 A wild and warlike group they stand, That well became such mountain strand. XXVIII. Their Chief, with step reluctant, still Was lingering on the craggy hill, Hard by where turn’d apart the road To Douglas’s obscure abode. 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 And fetters flame with flaxen band. CANTO III.] THE GATHERING. 95 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; 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 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. What melting voice attends the strings ? ’Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings. XXIX. Hgnrn to tlje Dtrigtit. Ave Maria / maiden mild ! Listen to a maiden’s prayer ; Thou canst hear though from the wild. Thou canst save amid despair. Safe may we sleep beneath thy care, Though banish’d, outcast, and reviled— Maiden ! hear a maiden’s prayer; Mother, hear a suppliant child ! A ve Maria l Ave Maria! undefiled ! The flinty couch we now must share 9 6 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto hi . 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; 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, 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, And for a father hear a child ! Ave Maria ! xxx. Died on the harp the closing hymn— Unmoved in attitude and limb, As list’ning still, Clan-Alpine’s lord Stood leaning on his heavy sword, Until the page, with humble sign, Twice pointed to the sun’s decline. Then, while his plaid he round him cast, “ It is the last time—’tis the last,” He mutter’d thrice,—“ the last time e’er 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, THE GA TILER IE u. 97 C4NYO III.] And instant cross the lake it shot. They landed in that silvery bay, And eastward held their hasty way, Till, with the latest beams of light, The band arrived on Lanrick height. Where muster’d, in the vale below, Clan-Alpine’s men in martial show. XXXI. A various scene the clansmen made, Some sate, some stood, some slowly stray’d; But most, with mantles folded round, Were couch’d to rest upon the ground, Scarce to be known by curious eye, From the deep heather where they lie, So well was match’d the tartan screen With heath-bell dark and brackens green; Unless where, here and there, a blade, 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, Shook the steep mountain’s steady side. Thrice it arose, and lake and fell Three times return’d the martial yell; It died upon Bochastle’s plain, And Silence claim’d her evening reign. G NOTES TO CANTO III. y I? 5._ The Cross glanced, like a meteor, round. When a chieftain designed to summon his clan, upon sudden or important emergency, he slew a goat, and making a cross of any light wood, seared its extremities m the hre, and extinguished them in the blood of the animal. 1 Ins was called the Fiery Cross, also Crean Tarigh, or the Cross of Shame, because disobedience to what the symbol implied inferred infamy. It was delivered to a swift and trusty ines- senger, who ran full speed with it to the next hamlet, wnere he presented it to the principal person, with a single word, implying the place of rendezvous. He who received the symbol was bound to send it forward, with equal despatch, to the next village; and thus it passed with incredible celerity through all the district which owed allegiance to the chief, and also among his allies and neighbours, if the danger was common to them. At sight of the Fiery Cross, every man, from sixteen years old to sixty, capable of bearing arms, was obliged instantly to repair, in his best arms and accoutre¬ ments, to the place of rendezvous. He who failed to appeal suffered the extremities of fire and sword, which were emble matically denounced to the disobedient by the bloody and burnt marks upon this warlike signal. During the civil war of 1745-6, the Fiery Cross often made its circuit; and upon one occasion it passed through the whole district of Bieadal- bane, a track of thirty-two miles, in three hours. The late Alexander Stewart, Esq. of Invernahyle, described to me his having sent round the Fiery Cross through the district ot Appine, during the same commotion. The coast was threa¬ tened by a descent from two English frigates, and the flower of the young men were with the army of Prince Charles Ed¬ ward, then in England; yet the summons was so effectual, that even old age "and childhood obeyed it; and a force was collected in a few hours, so numerous and so enthusiastic, that all attempt at the intended diversion upon the country of NOTES TO CANTO III. 99 the absent warriors was in prudence abandoned as desperate. This practice, like some others, is common to the Highlan¬ ders with the ancient Scandinavians.—See Olaus Magnus’ History of the Goths , Lond. 1658, book iv. chap. 3, 4. 73, iv. — That monk of savage form andface. The state of religion in the middle ages afforded consider¬ able facilities for those whose mode of life excluded them from regular worship, to secure, nevertheless, the ghostly assistance of confessors, perfectly willing to adapt the nature of their doctrine to the necessities and peculiar circumstances of their flock. Robin Hood, it is well known, had his celebrated domestic chaplain Friar Tuck. And that same curtal friar was probably matched in manners and appear¬ ance by the ghostly fathers of the Tynedale robbers, who are described in an excommunication fulminated against their patrons by Richard Fox, Bishop of Durham, tempore Henrici VIII.—See the Monition against the Robbers of Tynedale and Redesdale, in the original Latin, in the Appendix to the Introduction to the Border Minstrelsy, No. VII. Lithgow, the Scottish traveller, declares the Irish wood- kerne, or predatory tribes, to be but the hounds of their hunt¬ ing priests, who directed their incursions by their pleasure, partly for sustenance, partly to gratify animosity, partly to foment general division, and always for the better security and easier domination of the friars.—See Lithgow s Travels, first edit. p. 431. Derrick, the liveliness and minuteness of whose descriptions may frequently apologize for his doggerel verses, after describ¬ ing air Irish feast, and the encouragement given, by the songs of the bards, to its termination in an incursion upon the parts of the country more immediately under the dominion of the English, records the no less powerful arguments used by the friar to excite their animosity.—See Somers’ Tracts, vol. i. p. 591, 594. As the Irish tribes, and those of the Scottish Highlanders, are much more intimately allied, by language, manners, dress, and customs, than the antiquaries of either country have been willing to admit, I flatter myself I have here produced a strong IOO THE LADY OF THE LAKE. warrant for the character sketched in the text.—See Martins Western Islands , p. 82. 75, v. — The virgin snood. The snood, or riband, with which a Scottish lass braided her hair, had an emblematical signification, and applied to her maiden character. It was exchanged for the curch , toy, or coif, when she passed, by marriage, into the matron state. But if the damsel was so unfortunate as to lose pretensions to the name of maiden, without gaining a right to that of matron, she was neither permitted to use the snood, nor advanced to the graver dignity of the curch. 77, vii. — The fatal Ben-Shies boding scream. Most great families in the Highlands were supposed to have a tutelar, or rather a domestic spirit, attached to them, who took an interest in their prosperity, and intimated, by its wailings, any approaching disaster. That of Grant of Grant was called May Moullach, and appeared in the form of a girl, who had her arm covered with hair. Grant of Rothiemurcus had an attendant called Bodach-an-dun, or the Ghost of the Hill; and many other examples might be mentioned. The Ban-Schie implies a female fairy, whose lamentations were often supposed to precede the death of a chieftain of particu¬ lar families. When she is visible, it is in the form of an old woman, with a blue mantle and streaming hair. A super¬ stition of the same kind is, I believe, universally received by the inferior ranks of the native Irish. The death of the head of a Highland family is also some¬ times supposed to be announced by a chain of lights of differ¬ ent colours, called Dr'eng, or death of the Druid. The dir¬ ection which it takes marks the place of the funeral.—See Essay on Fairy Superstitions in Border Minstrelsy. 77, vii.— Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast, Of charging steeds, careering fast. A presage of the kind alluded to in the text is still believed to announce death to the ancient Highland family of M‘Lean of Lochbuy. The spirit of an ancestor slain in battle is heard to gallop along a stony bank, and then to ride thrice around 101 NOTES TO CANTO III. the family residence, ringing his fairy bridle, and thus intim¬ ating the approaching calamity. How easily the eye as well as the ear may be deceived upon such occasions, is evident from the stories of armies in the air, and other spectral phen¬ omena with which history abounds. Such an apparition is said to have been witnessed upon the side of Southfell moun¬ tain, between Penrith and Keswick, upon the 23d June, 1744, by two persons, William Lancaster of Blakehills, and Daniel Stricket his servant, whose attestation to the fact, with a full account of the apparition, dated the 21st July, 1745, is printed in Clarke’s Survey of the Lakes, p. 25. 77, viii.— Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave. Inch-Cailliach , the Isle of Nuns, or of Old Women, is a most beautiful island at the low-er extremity of Loch Lomond. The church belonging to the former nunnery was long used as the place of worship for the parish of Buchanan, but scarce any vestiges of it now remain. The burial-ground continues to be used, and contains the family places of sepulture of sev¬ eral neighbouring clans. The monuments of the lairds of Macgregor, and of other families, claiming a descent from the old Scottish King Alpine, are most remarkable. 81, xiii. — The dun deer's hide On fleeter foot was never tied. The present brogue of the Highlanders is made of half-dried leather, with holes to admit and let out the water; for walk¬ ing the moors dry-shod is a matter altogether out of question. The ancient buskin was still ruder, being made of undressed deer’s hide, with the hair outwards ; a circumstance which procured the Highlanders the well-known epithet of Red¬ shanks. The process is very accurately described by one Elder, (himself a Highlander) in the project for a union be¬ tween England and Scotland, addressed to Henry VIII.— See Pinkerton’s History, vol. ii. p. 397. 83, xv. — The dismal coronach. The Coronach of the Highlanders, like the Ululatus of the Romans, and the Ululoo of the Irish, was a wild expression of lamentation, poured forth by the mourners over the body 102 THE LADY OF THE LAKE . of a departed friend. When the words of it were articulate, they expressed the praises of the deceased, and the loss the clan would sustain by his death. 86, xix .—Benledi sazv the Cross of Fire, It glanced like lightning up Strath-Lre. A glance at the provincial map of Perthshire, or any large map of Scotland, will trace the progress of the signal through the small district of lakes and mountains, which, in exercise of my poetical privilege, I have subjected to the authority of my imaginary chieftain, and which, at the period of my romance, was really occupied by a clan who claimed a descent from Alpine ; a clan the most unfortunate, and most perse¬ cuted, but neither the least distinguished, least powerful, nor least brave, of the tribes of the Gael. “ Slioch non rioghridh duchaisach Bha-shois an Dun-Staiobhinish Aig an roubh crun na Halba othus ’Stag a cheil duchas fast ris.” * The first stage of the Fiery Cross is to Duncraggan, a place near the Brigg of Turk, where a short stream divides Loch Achray from Loch Vennachar. From thence, it passes to¬ wards Callander, and then, turning to the left up the pass of Leny, is consigned to Norman at the chapel of Saint Bride, which stood on a small and romantic knoll in the middle of the valley, called Strath-Ire. Tombea and Arnandave, or Armandave, are names of places in the vicinity. The alarm is then supposed to pass along the lake of Lubnaig, and through the various glens in the district of Balquidder, includ¬ ing the neighbouring tracts of Glenfinlas and Strathgartney. 90, xxiv .—Not faster o'er thy heathery braes , Balquidder , speeds the midnight blaze. It may be necessary to inform the southern reader that the heath on the Scottish moor-lands is often set fire to, that the * [Descendants of the hereditary kings Who reigned in Dunstaffnage, Who wore Albyn’s crown, And hope again to wear it. The spelling is left unaltered.] NOTES TO CANTO ITT. 103 sheep may have the advantage of the young herbage produced in room of the tough old heather plants, "1 his custom (exe¬ crated by sportsmen) produces occasionally the most beauti¬ ful nocturnal appearances, similar almost to the dischaige of a volcano. The simile is not new to poetry. The charge ot a warrior, in the fine ballad of Hardyknute, is said to be like a fire to heather set.” 91, xxiv .—No oath, but by his chief lain s hcind. The deep and implicit respect paid by the Highland clans¬ men to their chief, rendered this both a common and a solemn oath. In other respects, they were like most savage nations, capricious in their ideas concerning the obligatory power of oaths. One solemn mode of swearing was by kissing the dirk , imprecating upon themselves death by that, or a similar weapon, if they broke their vow. But for oaths in the usual form, they are said to have had little respect.—For an odd example of a Highland point of honour, see Letters from Scotland , vol. ii. p. 221. 92, xxv. — Coir-nan-Ur is kin* Thisis a very steep and most romantic hollow in the mountain of Benvenue, overhanging the south-eastern extiemity of Loch Katrine. It is surrounded with stupendous rocks, and over¬ shadowed with birch-trees, mingled with oaks, the spontane¬ ous production of the mountain, even where its cliffs appear denuded of soil. A dale in so wild a situation, and amid a people whose genius bordered on the romantic, did not lernain without apDropriate deities. I he name literally implies the Corri, or Den, of the Wild or Shaggy men. Perhaps this, as conjectured by Mr. Alexander Campbell, may have oiigi- nally only implied its being the haunt of a ferocious banditti. But tradition has ascribed to the Urisk, who gives name to the cavern, a figure between a goat and a man 5 in short, how¬ ever much the classical reader may be startled, precisely that of the Grecian Satyr.—See Scenery of Perthshire, p. 19, 1S06. 93, xxvii. — The wild pass of Teed-net in-To „ Bealach-nam-Bo, or the pass of cattle, is a most magnificent glade, overhung with aged birch-trees, a little higher up the 104 THE LADY OF THE LA JOE. mountain than the Coir-nan-Uriskin, treated of in the last note. The whole composes the most sublime piece of scenery that imagination can conceive. 94, xxvii.— A single page, to bear his sword. Alone attended on hts lord. A Highland chief, being as absolute in his patriarchal authority as any prince, had a corresponding number of offi¬ cers attached to his person. He had his body-guards, called Luichttach, picked from his clan for strength, activity, and entire devotion to his person. These, according to their deserts, were sure to share abundantly in the rude profusion of his hospitality. It is recorded, for example, by tradition, that Allan MacLean, chief of that clan, happened upon a time to hear one of these favourite retainers observe to his com¬ rade, that their chief grew old—“Whence do you infer that? ” replied the other.—“ When was it,” rejoined the first, “that a soldier of Allan’s was obliged, as I am now, not only to eat the flesh from the bone, but even to tear off the inner skin, or filament?” The hint was quite sufficient, and Mac- Lean next morning, to relieve his followers from such dire necessity, undertook an inroad on the mainland, the ravage of which altogether effaced the memory of his former expeditions for the like purpose.—For the domestic offices that belonged to the establishment of a Highland chief, see Letters from Scotland, vol. ii. p. 15. CANTO FOURTH. J)rop!)ecg. i. HE rose is fairest when ’tis budding new, J- And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears: The rose is sweetest wash’d with morning dew, And love is loveliest when embalm’d in tears. O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, 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, Love prompted to the bridegroom’s tongue. All while he stripp’d the wild-rose spray, His axe and bow beside him lay, For on a pass ’twixt lake and wood, A wakeful sentinel he stood. Hark !—on the rock a footstep rung, And instant to his arms he sprung. “ Stand, or thou diest!—What, Malise?—soon Art thou return’d from Braes of Doune. ro5 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv. By thy keen step and glance I know, 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, u Apart, in yonder misty glade ; To his lone couch I’ll be your guide.”— Then call’d a slumberer by his side, And stirr’d him with his slacken’d bow — “ Up, up, Glentarkin ! rouse thee, ho 1 We seek the Chieftain ; on the track, Keep eagle watch till I come back.” III. Together up the pass they sped : “ What of the foemen?” Norman said.— “ Varying reports from near and far; This certain,—that a band of war 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 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 ?”■— “ 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 CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. 107 Unfit for arms ; and given his charge, 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. f °Tis well advised—the Chieftain’s plan Bespeaks the father of his clan. But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu Apart from all his followers true?”— “ 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 call’d ; 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 merry-men Gallangad. His hide was snow, his horns were dark, His red eye glow’d like fiery spark; So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, Sore did he cumber our retreat, And kept our stoutest kernes 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 scatheless stroke his brow.” THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv. V. NORMAN. “ That bull was slain : his reeking hide They stretch’d 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. Couch’d on a shelve beneath its brink, Close where the thundering torrents sink, Rocking beneath their headlong sway. And drizzled by the ceaseless spray, Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream. The wizard waits prophetic dream. 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, That hovers o’er a slaughter’d 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, Thy words were evil augury; But still I hold Sir Roderick’s blade Clan-Alpine’s omen and her aid, Not aught that, glean’d from heaven or hell, Yon fiend-begotten Monk can tell. CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. J09 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, For man endow’d 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,— ’Tis hard for such to view, unfurl’d, The curtain of the future world. Yet, witness every quaking limb, My sunken pulse, my eyeballs dim, My soul with harrowing anguish torn, 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, 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, But borne and branded on my soul;— Which spills the foremost foeman’s life That party conquers in the strife.”— IIO THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv . VII. “ Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care ! Good is thine augury, and fair. Clan-Alpine ne’er in battle stood, But first our broadswords tasted blood. A surer victim still I know, Self-offer’d to the auspicious blow: A spy has sought my land this morn,- — 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, 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 ?”■— VIII. “ At Doune, o’er many a spear and glaive Two Barons proud their banners wave. I saw the Moray’s silver star, And mark’d the sable pale of Mar.”— “ By Alpine’s soul, high tidings those ! I love to hear of worthy foes. 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 ? Strengthened by them, we well might bide CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. hi 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, 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 ? Or dost thou come, ill-omen’d tear i A messenger of doubt or fear ? No ! sooner may the Saxon lance Unfix Benledi from his stance, Than doubt of terror can pierce through The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu ! J Tis 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, Obedient to the Chieftain’s glance. —I turn me from the martial roar, And seek Coir-Uriskin once more. IX. Where is the Douglas?—he is gone; And Ellen sits on the grey stone Fast by the cave, and makes her moan; While vainly Allan’s words of cheer Are pour’d on her unheeding ear.— “ He will return—Dear lady, trust ! With joy return;—he will—he must. Well was it time to seek, afar, 112 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [canto jv. Some refuge from impending war, When e’en Clan-Alpine’s rugged swarm Are cow’d by the approaching storm. I saw their boats with many a light, Floating the livelong yesternight, Shifting like flashes darted forth By the red streamers of the north ; I mark’d at morn how close they ride, Thick moor’d by the lone islet’s side, Like wild ducks couching in the fen, When stoops the hawk upon the glenu Since this rude race dare not abide The peril on the mainland side, Shall not thy noble father’s care Some safe retreat for thee prepare X. 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, The tear that glisten’d in his eye Drown’d not his purpose fix’d on high. My soul, though feminine and weak, Can image his ; e’en as the lake, Itself disturb’d, by slightest stroke, Reflects the invulnerable rock. He hears report of battle rife, He deems himself the cause of strife. I saw him redden, when the theme Turn’d, Allan, on thine idle dream CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. Of Malcolm Graeme in fetters bound, Which I, thou saidst, about him wound. Think’st thou he trow’d thine omen aught ? Oh no! ’twas apprehensive thought For the kind youth,—for Roderick too— (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, 1 If not on earth, we meet in heaven ! ? 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 friend’s safety with his own; — He goes to do—what I had done, Had Douglas’ daughter been his son !”— XL “ Nay, lovely Ellen !—dearest, nay ! If aught should his return delay, He only named yon holy fane As fitting place to meet again. Be sure he’s safe; and for the Graeme,— Heaven’s blessing on his gallant name !— My vision’d sight may yet prove true, Nor bode of ill to him or you. When did my gifted dream beguile ? Think of the stranger at the isle, And think upon the harpings slow, That presaged this approaching woe ! Sooth was my prophecy of fear; THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv. 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, My harp was wont thy grief to cheei. 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. XII. frallati. 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 cr>, And the hunter’s horn is ringing. “ O Alice Brand, my native land Is lost for love of you; And we must hold by wood and wold, As outlaws wont to do. “ O Alice, ’twas all for thy locks so bright, And ’twas all for thine eyes so blue, That on the night of our luckless flight. Thy brother bold I slew. CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. “ Now must I teach to hew the beech, The hand that held the glaive, For leaves to spread our lowly bed, 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 slaughter’d deer, To keep the cold away.”— “ O Richard ! if my brother died, J Twas but a fatal chance; For darkling was the battle tried, And fortune sped the lance. “ If pall and vair no more I wear, Nor thou the crimson sheen, As warm, we’ll say, is the russet grey, As gay the forest-green. u And, Richard, if our lot be hard, And lost thy native land, Still Alice has her own Richard, And he his Alice Brand.” XIII. Ipallab continued. J Tis merry, ’tis merry, in good greenwood, So blithe Lady Alice is singing: On the beech’s pride, and oak’s brown sid?. Lord Richard’s axe is ringing. n6 THE LADY OF THE LA ICE. [canto iv. Up spoke the moody Elfin King, Who wonn’d within the hill,— Like wind in the porch of a ruin’d church, His voice was ghostly shrill. “ Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak, Our moonlight circle’s screen ? Or who comes here to chase the deer, Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? Or who may dare on wold to wear The fairies’ fatal green ? “ Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie, For thou wert christen’d man; For cross or sign thou wilt not fly, For mutter’d word or ban. “ Lay on him the curse of the wither’d heart, The curse of the sleepless eye; Till he wish and pray that his life would part, Nor yet find leave to die.” XIV. gHallai) coitlimtci). ’Tis merry, ’tis merry, in good greenwood, Though the birds have still’d their singing; The evening blaze doth Alice raise, And Richard is faggots bringing. Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf, Before Lord Richard stands, And, as he cross’d and bless’d himself, “ I fear not sign,” quoth the grisly elf, “ That is made with bloody hands.” CAXTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. n 7 But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, That woman void of fear,— “ And if there’s blood upon his hand, ’Tis but the blood of deer.”— “ Now loud thou best, thou bold of mood ! It cleaves unto his hand, The stain of thine own kindly blood, The blood of Ethert Brand.” Then forward stepp’d she, Alice Brand, And made the holy sign,— “ And if there’s blood on Richard’s hand, A spotless hand is mine. “And I conjure thee, Demon elf, By Him whom Demons fear, To show us whence thou art thyself, And what thine errand here ? ” XV. fJalkb cottthttub. “ ’Tis merry, ’tis merry, in Fairy-land, 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. Like the idle gleam that December’s beam Can dart on ice and snow. 118 THE LA DY OF THE LAKE. [canto IV. “And fading, like that varied gleam, Is our inconstant shape, Who now like knight and lady seem, 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 To the joyless Elfin bower. “ 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.” She cross’d him once—she cross’d 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 ; 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, But merrier were they in Dunfermline grey, When all the bells were ringing. XVI. Just as the minstrel sounds were staid, A stranger climb’d the steepy glade ; canto iv. 3 THE PROPHECY. 119 His martial step, his stately mien, His hunting suit of Lincoln green, . His eagle glance, remembrance claims— J Tis Snowdoun’s Knight, ’tis James Fitz-James, Ellen beheld as in a dream, Then, starting, scarce suppress’d a scream : “ 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 Met me betimes this morning tide. And marshall’d, over bank and bourne, The happy path of my return.”— “ The happy path !—what! said he nought Of war, of battle to be fought, 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 That he will guide the stranger sure j— 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.”— 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 honour’s weigh’d with death. 120 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [canto iv. Then let me profit by my chance, And speak my purpose bold at once. I come to bear 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. Near Bochastle my horses wait ; They bear us soon to Stirling gate. IT1 place thee in a lovely bower, I’ll guard thee like a tender flower”— “O ! hush, Sir Knight! ’twere female art, To say I do not read thy heart; Too much, before, my selfish ear Was idly soothed my praise to hear. That fatal bait hath lured thee back, In deathful hour, o’er dangerous track; 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, Buy thine own pardon with thy shame 1 But first—my father is a man Outlaw’d and exil’d, under ban ; The price of blood is on his head, With me ’twere infamy to wed.— Still would’st 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 heaU ; Forgive, be generous, and deport j >! CANTO TV.] THE PROPHECY. 121 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 e> e, 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, As death had seal’d her Malcolm’s doom, And she sat sorrowing on his tomb. Hope vanish’d from Fitz-James’s eye, But not with hope fled sympathy. He proffer’d to attend her side, As brother would a sister guide,— “ O ! little know’st thou Roderick’s heart! Safer for both we go apart. O haste thee, and from Allan learn, If thou mayst trust yon wily kern.” 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 cross’d his brain, He paus’d, and turn’d, and came again. XIX. “ Here, 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. THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv. And bade, when I had boon to crave, 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, 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. Seek thou the king without delay ; This signet shall secure thy way ; And claim thy suit, whatever it be, As ransom of his pledge to me.” He placed the golden circlet on, Paused—kiss’d her hand—and then was gone. The aged Minstrel stood aghast, So hastily Fitz-James shot past. He join’d his guide, and wending down The ridges of the mountain brown, Across the stream they took their way, That joins Loch Katrine to Achray. XX. All in the Trosachs’ glen was still, Noontide was sleeping on the hill: Sudden his guide whoop’d loud and high -« “ Murdoch ! was that a signal cry ? ” He stammer’d forth —“ I shout to scare Yon raven from his dainty fare.” He look’d—he knew the raven’s prey, CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. 123 His own brave steed :—“Ah ! gallant grey ! 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, 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, In tatter’d weeds and wild array, Stood on a cliff beside the way, And glancing round her restless eye, Upon the wood, the rock, the sky, Seem’d nought to mark, yet all to spy. Her brow was wreath’d 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, Where scarce was footing for the goat. The tartan plaid she first descried, And shriek’d till all the rocks replied ; As loud she laugh’d when near they drew, For then the Lowland garb she knew; 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; 124 THE LADY OF THE LAKE . [canto iv. And now, though strain’d and roughen’d, still Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill. XXII. They bid me sleep, they bid me pray, They say my brain is warp’d and wrung—• I cannot sleep on Highland brae, I cannot pray in Highland tongue. 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, They bade 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 drown’d in blood the morning smile ! 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 grey, As the lone heron spreads his wing, By twilight, o’er a haunted spring.” “’Tis Blanche of Devan,” Murdoch said, A crazed and captive Lowland maid, Ta’en on the morn she was a bride, CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. 125 When Roderick foray’d Devan-side. The gay bridegroom resistance made, And felt our Chiefs unconquer’d blade. I marvel she is now at large, But oft she ’scapes from Maudlin’s charge.—- Hence, brain-sick fool 1”—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 pitch’d a bar !”—■ “Thanks, champion, thanks !” the Maniac cried, And press’d her to Fitz-James’s side. “ See the grey 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 ! 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 staid, Wave forth a banner fair and free, 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; 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 ! 126 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv His coat it was all of the greenwood hue, And so blithely he trill’d the Lowland lay ! “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. Still on the Clansman, fearfully, She fix’d her apprehensive eye; Then turn’d it on the Knight, and then Her look glanced wildly o’er the glen. xxv. “ The toils are pitch’d, and the stakes are set, 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; He came stately down the glen, Ever sing hardily, hardily. “It was there he met with a wounded doe, She was bleeding deathfully; She warn’d him of the toils below, 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.” XXVI. Fitz-James’s mind was passion-toss’d, CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. 127 When Ellen’s hints and fears were lost; But Murdoch’s shout suspicion wrought, And Blanche’s song conviction brought.— Not like a stag that spies the snare, But lion 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. The shaft just grazed Fitz-James’s crest, And thrill’d 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, The fierce avenger is behind : Fate judges of the rapid strife— The forfeit death—the prize is life ! Thy kindred ambush lies before, Close couch’d upon the heathery moor; Them couldst thou reach !—it may not be—• Thine ambush’d kin thou ne’er shalt see, The fiery Saxon gains on thee ! —Resistless speeds the deadly thrust, As lightning strikes the pine to dust; With foot and hand Fitz-James must strain Ere he can win his blade again. Bent o’er the fall’n, with falcon eye, He grimly smiled to see him die ; Then slower wended back his way, Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. 128 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv. XXVII. She sate beneath the birchen tree, Her elbow resting on her knee; She had withdrawn the fatal shaft, And gazed on it, and feebly laugh’d; Her wreath of broom and feathers grey Daggled with blood, beside her lay. The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried,— “ Stranger, it is in vain ! ” she cried. “ This hour of death has given me more Of reason’s power 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, 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! It once was bright and clear as thine, But blood and tears have dimm’d its shine. I will not tell thee when ’twas shred, Nor from what guiltless victim’s head— My brain would turn !—but it shall wave Like plumage on thy helmet brave, 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 honour’d sign, And for thy life preserved by mine. CANTO IV.] 7 HE PROPHECY. 129 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, 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 . . . O God ! . . . farewell.” XXVIII. A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James; Fast pour’d his eyes at pity’s claims, And now, with mingled grief and ire, He saw the murder’d maid expire. “ God, in my need, be my relief, As I wreak this on yonder Chief!” 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, No other favour will I wear, Till this sad token I imbrue In the best blood of Roderick Dhu! t—B ut hark ! what means yon faint halloo ? The chase is up,—but they shall know, The stag at bay’s a dangerous foe.” Barr’d from the known but guarded way, Through copse and cliffs Fitz-James must stray, And oft must change his desperate track, By stream and precipice turn’d back. Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length, THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto From lack of food and loss of strength, He couch’d him in a thicket hoar, And thought his toils and perils o’er :— “ Of all my rash adventures past, This frantic feat must prove the last ! Who e’er so mad but might have guess’d, That all this Highland hornet’s nest Would muster up in swarms so soon As e’er they heard of bands at Doune? Like bloodhounds now they search me out,— Hark, to the whistle and the shout!— If further through the wilds I go, I only fall upon the foe: I’ll couch me here till evening grey, 1 hen darkling try my dangerous way.” 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; 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. He climbs the crag and threads the brake; And not the summer solstice, there, Temper’d the midnight mountain air, But every breeze, that swept the wold, Benumb’d his drenched limbs with cold. In dread, in danger, and alone, CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY. 131 Famish’d and chill’d through ways unknown. Tangled and steep, he journey’d on ; Till, as a rock’s huge point he turn’d, A watch-fire close before him burn’d. XXX. Beside its embers red and clear, Bask’d, 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 ?”— “ Rest and a guide, and food and fire. My life’s beset, my path is lost, The gale has chill’d my limbs with frost.” “ Art thou a friend to Roderick ?” “ No.” “ Thou darest not call thyself a foe?” “ I dare ! to him and all the band He brings to aid his murderous hand.” “ Bold words !—but, though the beast of game The privilege of chase may claim, Though space and law the stag we lend, Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend, Who ever reck’d, where, how, or when, The prowling fox was trapp’d or slain ? Thus treacherous scouts,—yet sure they lie, Who say thou earnest a secret spy !”•— “ 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, Thou bear’st the belt and spur of Knight.” 132 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv. “ Then by these tokens may’st thou know Each proud oppressor’s mortal foe.” “Enough, enough; sit down and share A soldier’s couch, a soldier’s fare.” XXXI. He gave him of his Highland cheer, The harden’d flesh of mountain deer; Dry fuel on the fire he laid, And bade the Saxon share his plaid. He tended him like welcome guest, Then thus his further speech address’d “ Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu A clansman born, a kinsman true; Each word against his honour spoke, Demands of me avenging stroke; Yet more,—upon thy fate, ’tis 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, Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand: But, not for clan, nor kindred’s cause, Will I depart from honour’s laws; To assail a wearied man were shame, And stranger is a holy name; 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 Till past Clan-Alpine’s outmost guard, THE PROPHECY. 133 CANTO IV.] 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 !” “Well, rest thee; for the bittern’s cry Sings us the kike’s wild lullaby.” With that he shook the gather’d heath, And spread his plaid upon the wreath; And the brave foemen, side by side, Lay peaceful down like brothers tried, And slept until the dawning beam Purpled the mountain and the stream. NOTES TO CANTO IV. 107, iv .—The Taghairm call'd; by which , afar, Our sires foresaw the events of war. The Highlanders, like all rude people, had various super¬ stitious modes of inquiring into futurity. One of the most noted was the Taghairm, mentioned in the text. A person was wrapped up in the skin of a newly-slain bullock, and deposited beside a waterfall, or at the bottom of a precipice, or in some other strange, wild, and unusual situation, where the scenery around him suggested nothing but objects of horror. In this situation, he revolved in his mind the ques¬ tion proposed ; and whatever was impressed upon him by his exalted imagination, passed for the inspiration of the disem¬ bodied spirits, who haunt the desolate recesses. In some of these Hebrides, they attributed the same oracular power to a large black stone by the sea-shore, which they approached with certain solemnities, and considered the first fancy which came into their own minds, after they did so, to be the un¬ doubted dictate of the tutelar deity of the stone, and, as such, to be, if possible, punctually complied with. Martin has re¬ corded some curious modes of Highland augury with the Taghairm.*—See Description of the Western Isles , p. 110; also Pennant’s Scottish Tour , vol. ii. p. 361. 107, iv.— The choicest of the prey we had. When sivept our merry-men Gallangad. I know not if it be worth observing, that this passage is taken almost literally from the mouth of an old Plighland Kern, or Ketteran, as they were called. He used to narrate the merry doings of the good old time when he was follower of Rob Roy MacGregor. This leader, on one occasion, thought proper to make a descent upon the lower part of the Loch Lomond district, and summoned all the heritors and farmers to meet at the Kirk of Drymen, to pay him black¬ mail, i.e., tribute for forbearance and protection. As this * [See Index, under Taghairm .] NOTES TO CANTO IV. 135 invitation was supported by a band of thirty or forty stout fellows, only one gentleman, an ancestor, if I mistake not, of the present Mr. Grahame of Gartmore, ventured to decline compliance. Rob Roy instantly swept his land of all he could drive away, and among the spoil was a bull of the old Scottish wild breed, whose ferocity occasioned great plague to the Ketterans. “But ere we had reached the Row of Dennan,” said the old men, “ a child might have scratched his ears.” IO §, Vt — That huge cliff, whose ample verge Tradition calls the Hero's Targe. There is a rock so named in the forest of Glenfinlas, by which a tumultuary cataract takes its course. This wild place is said in former times to have afforded refuge to an outlaw, who was supplied with provisions by a woman, who lowered them down from the brink of the precipice above. His water he procured for himself, by letting down a flagon tied to a string, into the black pool beneath the fall. 108, v.— Or raven on the blasted oak, That, watching while the deer is broke. Every thing belonging to the chase was matter of solemnity among our ancestors ; but nothing was more so than the mode of cutting up, or, as it was technically called, breaking, the slaughtered stag. The forester had his allotted portion; the hounds had a certain allowance; and, to make the division as general as possible, the very birds had their share also. “ There is a little gristle,” says Turberville, “ which is upon the spoone of the brisket, which we call the raven’s bone; and I have seen in some places a raven so wont and accustomed to it, that she would never fail to croak and cry for it all the time you were in breaking up of the deer, and would not depart till she had it.” 109, vi. — Which spills the foremost foemari s life. That party conquers in the strife. Though this be in the text described as the response of the Taghairm, or Oracle of the Hide, it was of itself an augury frequently attended to. The fate of the battle was often an¬ ticipated in the imagination of the combatants, by observing which party first shed blood. It is said that the Highlandeis, 13 6 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. under Montrose, were so deeply embued with this notion that, on the morning of the battle of Tippermoor, they murdered a defenceless herdsman whom they found in the fields, merely to secure an advantage of so much consequence to their party. 114, xii.— Alice Brand. This little fairy taie is founded upon a very curious Danish ballad, which occurs in the Kcempe Viser, a collection of heroic songs, first published in 159 anc ^ reprinted in 1695, inscribed by Anders Sofrensen, the collector and editor, to Sophia, Queen of Denmark.—See Scott’s Poetical Work?, vol. viii. p. 328. 116, xiii.— Up spoke the moody Elfin King. In a long dissertation upon the Fairy Superstitions, pub¬ lished in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, the most valuable part of which was supplied by my learned and in¬ defatigable friend, Dr. John Leyden, most of the circum¬ stances are collected which can throw light upon the popular belief which even yet prevails respecting them in Scotland. Dr. Grahame has recorded, with great accuracy, the peculiar tenets held by the Highlanders on this topic, in the vicinity of Loch Katrine. The learned author is inclined to deduce the whole mythology from the Druidical system,—an opinion to which there are many objections. 116, xiii.— Or who comes here to chase the deer , Belov 1 d of our Elfin Queen. Fairies, if not positively malevolent, are capricious, and easily offended, and, like other proprietors of forests, are peculiarly jealous of their rights of vert and venison , as appears from the cause of offence taken, in the original Danish ballad. This jealousy was also an attribute of the northern Duergar, or dwarfs ; to many of whose distinctions the fairies seem to have succeeded, if, indeed, they are not the same class of be¬ ings. There are yet traces of a belief in this worst and most malicious order of Fairies, among the Border wilds.—See The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, Leyden’s Ballad the Cout of Keeldar. NOTES TO CANTO IV. •137 116, xiii.— The fairies' fatal green. As the Daome Shi, or Men of Peace, wore green habits, they were supposed to take offence when any mortals ventured to assume their favourite colour. Indeed, from some reason, which has been, perhaps, originally a general superstition, green is held in Scotland to be unlucky to particular tribes and counties. The Caithness men, who hold this belief, allege, as a reason, that their bands wore that colour when they were cut off at the battle of Flodden : and for the same reason they avoid crossing the Ord on a Monday, being the day of the week on which their ill-omened array set forth. Green is also disliked by those of the name of Ogilvy; but more especially it is held fatal to the whole clan of Grahame. It is remembered of an aged gentleman of that name, that when his horse fell in a fox-chase, he accounted for it at once, by observing that the whipcord attached to his lash was of this unlucky colour. 116, xiii.— For thou wert christen'd man. The Elves were supposed greatly to envy the privileges acquired by Christian initiation, and they gave to those mor¬ tals who had fallen into their power, a certain precedence, founded upon this advantageous distinction. Tamlane, in the old ballad, describes his own rank in the fairy procession : “ For I ride on a milk-white steed, And aye nearest the town ; Because I was a christen’d knight. They give me that renown.” I presume, that, in the Danish ballad of the Elfin Gray , the obstinacy of the “ Weiest Elf,” who would not flee for cross or sign, is to be derived from the circumstance of his having been “christen’d man.”—See Poetical Works, Vm. 328. 118, xv.— Snatched away To the joyless Elfin lower. The subjects of Fairy-land were recruited from the regions of humanity by a sort of crimping system, which extended to adults as well as to infants. Many of those who were in this world, supposed to have discharged the debt of nature, had 1 3« THE LADY OF THE LAKE. only become denizens of the “ Londe of Faery .’’—See the beautiful Fairy Romance of Orfee and Heurodns (Oipheus and Eurydice) in the Auchinleck MS. 131, XXX. - Who ever reck'd, where, how, or when. The prowling fox was trapped or slam. St. John actually used this illustration when confuting the plea of law proposed for the unfortunate Earl of Strafford . “Tt was true we save laws to hares and deer, because they are beasts of chase but it wasnever accounted either cruelty or foul play to knock Oxford, 1702, fol. vol. p. 183. 132 xxxi.—* His Highland cheer, The harden'd flesh of mountain deer. The Scottish Highlanders, in former times, had a concise mode of cooking their venison, or rather of dispensing with cooking it, which appears greatly _ to have surprised the French, whom chance made acquainted with it. ine vi- dame of Chartres, when a hostage in England, during the reign of Edward VI., was permitted to travel into Scotland, and penetrated as far as to the remote Highlands {au fin fond des Sauvages). After a great hunting party, at which a most wonderful quantity of game was destroyed, he saw these Scot¬ tish savages devour a part of their venison raw, without any further preparation than compressing it between two batons of wood, so as to force out the blood, and render it extiemely hard. This they reckoned a great delicacy ; and when the Vidame partook of it, his compliance with their taste ren¬ dered him extremely popular. This curious trait of manners was communicated by Mons. de Montmorency, a great friend of the Vidame, to Brantome, by whom it is recorded in Vies des Homines Illustres , Discours, lxxxix. art. 14* CANTO FIFTH. <&Ije Combat. i. F AIR as the earliest beam of eastern light, When first, by the bewilder’d 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;— 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, Was twinkling through the hazel screen, When, rousing at its glimmer red, The warriors left their lowly bed, Look’d out upon the dappled sky, Mutter’d their soldier matins by, And then awaked their fire, to steal, As short and rude, their soldier meal. That o’er, the Gael around him threw 140 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. His graceful plaid of varied hue, And, true to promise, led the way, By thicket green and mountain grey, A wildering path !—they winded now Along the precipice’s brow, Commanding the rich scenes beneath, The windings of the Forth and Teith, And all the vales between that lie, Till Stirling’s turrets melt in sky; Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance Gain’d not the length of horseman’s lance. ’Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 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 ! ill. 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, Beneath steep bank and threatening stone; An hundred men might hold the post With hardihood against a host. The rugged mountain’s scanty cloak Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak, With shingles bare, and cliffs between, And patches bright of bracken green, And heather black, that waved so high, CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. 141 It held the copse in rivalry. But where the lake slept deep and still, Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill; And oft both path and hill were torn, Where wintry torrents down had borne, And heap’d upon the cumber’d land Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. So toilsome was the road to trace, The guide, abating of his pace, Led slowly through the pass’s jaws, And ask’d Fitz-James, by what strange causv. He sought these wilds ? traversed by few, Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. 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. When here, but three days since, I came, Bewilder’d in pursuit of game, All seem’d as peaceful and as still, As the mist slumbering on yon hill; Thy dangerous Chief was then afar, 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 !— Moves our free course by such fix’d cause, As gives the poor mechanic laws ? Enough, I sought to drive away 142 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. The lazy hours of peaceful day; Slight cause will then suffice to guide A Knight’s free footsteps far and wide, — A falcon flown, a greyhound stray’d, The merry glance of mountain maid: Or, if a path be dangerous known, The danger’s self is lure alone.” v. “ Thy secret keep, I urge thee not;—* Yet, ere again ye sought this spot, Say, heard ye nought of Lowland war, Against Clan-Alpine, rais’d by Mar ?” —“ No, by my word;—of bands prepared To guard King James’s sports I heard; Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear This muster of the mountaineer, Their pennons will abroad be flung, Which else in Doune had peaceful hung.”— “ Free be they flung! for we were loth 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, Bewilder’d in the mountain game, Whence the bold boast by wffiich you show Vich-Alpine’s vow’d and mortal foe?” u Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew Nought of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, Save as an outlaw’d desperate man, The chief of a rebellious clan, Who, in the Regent’s court and sight, CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. 143 With ruffian dagger stabb’d a knight: Yet this alone might from his part Sever each true and loyal hearts VI. Wrothful at such arraignment foul, Dark lower’d the clansman’s sable scowl, A space he paused, then sternly said, “And heard’st thou why he drew his blade? Heard’st thou that shameful word and blow Brought Roderick’s vengeance on his foe ? What reck’d the Chieftain if he stood On Highland heath, or Holy-Rood? He rights such wrong where it is given, If it were in the court of heaven.” “Still was it outrage;—yet, ’tis true, Not then claim’d sovereignty his due; While Albany, with feeble hand, Held borrow’d truncheon of command, The young King, mew’d in Stirling tower, Was stranger to respect and power. But then, thy Chieftain’s robber life !— Winning mean prey by causeless strife, Wrenching from ruin’d Lowland swain His herds and harvest rear’d 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 answer’d with disdainful smile:— “ Saxon, from yonder mountain high, I mark’d thee send delighted eye, M4 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. 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 soften’d 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 fatten’d 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 tai'get 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; 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. Where live the mountain Chiefs who hold That plundering Lowland field and fold Is aught but retribution true ? Seek other cause ’gainst Roderick Dhu.”— CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. H5 VIII. Answer’d Fitz-James,—“And, if I sought, 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,— I seek my hound, or falcon stray’d, 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, Hadst thou, unheard, been doom’d 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. 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 agen, I come with banner, brand, and bow, 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 ! ” IX. “ Have, then, thy wish ! ”—He whistled shrill, And he was answer’d from the hill; K THE LADY OF THE LAKE . [canto Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows ; On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; From shingles grey their lances start, The bracken bush sends forth the dart, The rushes and the willow-wand Are bristling into axe and brand, And every tuft of broom gives life To plaided warrior arm’d for strife. That whistle garrison’d the glen 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. 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, Upon the mountain-side they hung. The Mountaineer cast glance of pride Along Benledi’s living side, Then fix’d his eye and sable brow Full on Fitz-James—“ How say’st thou now? These are Clan-Alpine’s warriors true; And. Saxon.—I am Roderick Dhu !” CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. 147 X. Fitz-James was brave :—Though to his heart The life-blood thrill’d with sudden start, He mann’d himself with dauntless air, Return’d 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.” Sir Roderick mark’d—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 : Down sunk the disappearing band; Each warrior vanish’d where he stood, In broom or bracken, heath or wood; Sunk brand and spear and bended bow, In osiers pale and copses low; It seem’d as if their mother Earth Had swallow’d up her warlike birth. The wind’s last breath had toss’d in air, Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair,— The next but swept a lone hill-side, 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 grey stone. 148 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v XI. Fitz-James look’d round—yet scarce believed The witness that his sight received; Such apparition well might seem Delusion of a dreadful dream. Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, And to his look the Chief replied, “ Fear nought—nay, that I need not say— But—doubt not aught from mine array. Thou art my guest;—I pledged my word As far as Coilantogle ford : 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 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 ; 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 pathway through, Which yet, by fearful proof, was rife With lances, that, to take his life, Waited but signal from a guide, So late dishonour’d and defied. Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round The vanish’d guardians of the ground, And still, from copse and heather deep, CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. U9 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 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. XII. 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 unfurl’d. 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, 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, Arm’d, like thyself, with single brand : THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. 150 For this is Coilantogle ford, And thou must keep thee with thy sword." XIII. The Saxon paused :— u I ne’er delay’d, When foeman bade me draw my blade ; Nay more, brave Chief, I vow’d thy death: Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, And my deep debt for life preserved, A better meed have well deserved : Can nought but blood our feud atone ? Are there no means ?’’—“ No, Stranger, none ! And hear,—to fire thy flagging zeal,— The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; For thus spoke Fate, by prophet bred Between the living and the dead ; ‘ 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,— 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, 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, That aids thee now to guard thy land." CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. 151 XIV. 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 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 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. 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 look’d to sun, and stream, and plain, As what they ne’er might see again ; THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. Then foot, and point, and eye opposed, In dubious strife they darkly closed. XV. Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu, That on the field his targe he threw, Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide Had death so often dash’d aside ; For, train’d abroad his arms to wield, Fitz-James’s blade was sword and shield. He practised every pass and ward, To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard ; While less expert, though stronger far, The Gael maintain’d unequal war. Three times in closing strife they stood, And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood ; No stinted draught, no scanty tide, The gushing flood the tartans dyed. Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, And shower’d his blows like wintry rain ; And, as firm rock, or castle roof, Against the winter shower is proof, The foe, invulnerable still, Foil’d his wild rage by steady skill; Till, at advantage ta’en, his brand Forced Roderick’s weapon from his hand, 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 ! ^— THE COMBAT. 153 CANTO V.] “ 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 ; Receiv’d, 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 on 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 gleam’d 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, Tut breathless all, Fitz-James arose. 154 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. XVII. He falter’d 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; In Roderick’s gore he dipp’d the braid,— “ Poor Blanche ! thy wrongs are dearly paid : Yet with thy foe must die, or live, The praise that faith and valour give.” With that he blew a bugle note, Undid the collar from his throat, Unbonneted, and by the wave Sate down his brow and hands to lave. Then faint afar are heard the feet Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet; The sounds increase, and now are seen Four mounted squires in Lincoln green ; Two who bear lance, and two who lead, By 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. The sun rides high ;—I must be b^une, CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. *55 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 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. Bounded the fiery steed in air, The rider sate erect and fair, Then like a bolt from steel crossbow Forth launch’d, along the plain they go. They dash’d that rapid torrent through, And up Carhonie’s hill they flew ; Still at the gallop prick’d the Knight, His merry-men follow’d as they might. Along thy banks, swift Teith ! they ride, And in the race they mock thy tide; Torry and Lendrick now are past, And Deanstown lies behind them cast; They rise, the banner’d towers of Doune, They sink in distant woodland soon ; Blair-Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire, They sweep like breeze through Ochtertyre ; They mark just glance and disappear THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. 156 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, With plash, with scramble, and with bound. Right-hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth ! And soon the bulwark of the North, Grey Stirling, with her towers and town, Upon their fleet career look’d down. XIX. As up the flinty path they strain’d, Sudden his steed the leader rein’d ; A signal to his squire he flung, Who instant to his stirrup sprung “ Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodsman grey, Who town-ward holds the rocky way, Of stature tall and poor array ? Mark’st thou the firm, yet active stride, With which he scales the mountain-side? Know’st thou from whence he comes, or whom?” “ 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 ? 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. ’Tis James of Douglas, by Saint Serle 1 The uncle of the banish’d Earl. CANTO V.] TIIE COMBAT. 157 Away, away, to court, to show The near approach of dreaded foe : The King must stand upon his guard ; Douglas and he must meet prepared.” Then right-hand wheel’d their steeds, and straight They won the castle’s postern gate. XX. The Douglas, who had bent his way From Cambus-Kenneth’s abbey grey, Now, as he climb’d the rocky shelf, Held sad communion with himself:— “Yes ! all is true my fears could frame ; A prisoner lies the noble Graeme, And fiery Roderick soon will feel The vengeance of the royal steel. I, only I, can ward their fate,— God grant the ransom come not late ! The abbess hath her promise given, My child shall be the bride of heaven ;— —Be pardon’d one repining tear ! 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 ; 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 Prepare—for Douglas seeks his doom! 158 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. —But hark! what blithe and jolly peal Makes the Franciscan steeple reel? And see! upon the crowded street, In motley groups what masquers meet! Banner and pageant, pipe and drum, And merry morrice-dancers come. I guess, by all this quaint array, The burghers hold their sports to-day. James will be there; he loves such show, Where the good yeoman bends his bow. And the tough wrestler foils his foe, As well as where, in proud career, The high-born tilter shivers spear. I’ll follow to the Castle-park, And play my prize ;—King James shall mark 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, The quivering draw-bridge rock’d and rung And echo’d loud the flinty street Beneath the coursers’ clattering feet, As slowly down the steep descent Fair Scotland’s King and nobles went, While all along the crowded way Was jubilee and loud huzza. And ever James was bending low, To his white jennet’s saddlebow, Doffing his cap to city dame, Who smiled and blush’d for pride and shame THE COMBAT. CANTO V.] 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, 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 throng’d peer and knight, And noble dame and damsel bright, Whose fiery steeds ill brook’d the stay Of the steep street and crowded way. —But in the train you might discern Dark lowering brow and visage stern; There nobles mourn’d their pride restrain’d, And the mean burgher’s joys disdain’d; And chiefs, who, hostage for their clan, Were each from home a banish’d man, There thought upon their own grey tower, Their waving woods, their feudal power, And deem’d themselves a shameful part Of pageant which they cursed in heart. XXII. Now, in the Castle-park, drew out Their chequer’d bands the joyous rout. 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 quarterstaff and cowl, Old Scathelock with his surly scowl, i6o THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO v. Maid Marion, fair as ivory bone, Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John; Their bugles challenge all that will, In archery to prove their skill. 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. From the King’s hand must Douglas take A silver dart, the archer’s stake; Fondly he watch’d, with watery eye, Some answering glance of sympathy,— No kind emotion made reply! Indifferent as to archer wight, 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, Nor call’d in vain; for Douglas came. —For life is Hugh of Larbert lame; Scarce better John of Alloa’s fare, Whom senseless home his comrades bear. Prize of the wrestling match, the King 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 suppress’d; Indignant then he turn’d him where CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. 161 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 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 grey-hair’d sires who know the past, To strangers point the Douglas-cast, And moralize on the decay Of Scottish strength in modern day. XXIV. The vale with loud applauses rang, The Ladies’ Rock sent back the clang. The King, with look unmoved, bestow’d 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, And sharper glance, the dark grey man; Till whispers rose among the throng, That heart so free, and hand so strong, Must to the Douglas blood belong The old men mark’d and shook the head, To see his hair with silver spread, And wink’d aside, and told each son, Of feats upon the English done, Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand Was exiled from his native land. The women prais’d his stately form, L 16.2 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. Though wreck’d by many a winter’s storm ; The youth with awe and wonder saw His strength surpassing Nature’s law. Thus judged, as is their wont, the crowd, Till murmurs rose to clamours loud. But not a glance from that proud ring Of peers who circled round the King, With Douglas held communion kind, Or call’d the banish’d man to mind; No, not from those who, at the chase, Once held his side the honour’d place, Begirt his board, and, in the field, Found safety underneath his shield; For he, whom royal eyes disown, When was his form to courtiers known ! xxv. The Monarch saw the gambols flag, And bade let loose a gallant stag, Whose pride, the holiday to crown, Two favourite greyhounds should pull down, That venison free, and Bourdeaux wine, Might serve the archery to dine. But Lufra,—whom from Douglas’ side Nor bribe nor threat could e’er divide, The fleetest hound in all the North,— Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. She left the royal hounds mid-way, And dashing on the antler’d prey, Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank, And deep the flowing life-blood drank. The King’s stout huntsman saw the sport CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. By strange intruder broken short, Came up, and with his leash unbound, In anger struck the noble hound. —The Douglas had endured, that morn, 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, 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, In darken’d 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. Such blow no other hand could deal, Though gauntleted in glove of steel. XXVI. Then clamour’d loud the royal train, And brandish’d swords and staves amain* But stern the Baron’s warning—“ Back! Back, on your lives, ye menial pack! Beware the Douglas.—Yes! behold, King James ! The Douglas doom’d of old, And vainly sought for near and far, A victim to atone the war, A willing victim, now attends, THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto y. Nor craves thy grace but for his friends.”— ‘‘Thus is my clemency repaid? Presumptuous Lord!” the Monarch said; Of thy mis-proud ambitious clan, 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 ?— 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 frown’d, “ And bid our horsemen clear the ground.” XXVII. Then uproar wild and misarray Marr’d the fair form of festal day. The horsemen prick’d among the crowd, Repell’d by threats and insult loud; 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 The royal spears in circle deep, And slowly scale the pathway steep; While on their rear in thunder pour The rabble with disorder’d roar. With grief the noble Douglas saw The Commons rise against the law, CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. 165 And to the leading soldier said,- - “ Sir John of Hyndford ! ; twas my blade, That knighthood on thy shoulder laid; For that good deed, permit me then A word with these misguided men. XXVIII. “ Hear, gentle friends ! ere yet for me, Ye break the bands of fealty. My life, my honour, and my cause, I tender free to Scotland’s laws. 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, That, for mean vengeance on a foe, Those cords of love I should unbind, Which knit my country and my kind ? Oh no ! Believe, in yonder tower It will not soothe my captive hour, To know those spears our foes should dread, For me in kindred gore are red; To know, in fruitless brawl begun, For me, that mother wails her son; For me, that widow’s mate expires; For me, that orphans weep their sires; That patriots mourn insulted laws, And curse the Douglas for the cause. O let your patience ward such ill, And keep your right to love me still !” THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. i 66 XXIX. The crowd’s wild fury sunk again In tears, as tempests melt in rain. With lifted hands and eyes, they pray’d For blessings on his generous head, Who for his country felt alone, And prized her blood beyond his own. Old men, upon the verge of life, Bless’d him who stay’d the civil strife; And mothers held their babes on high, The self-devoted Chief to spy, 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, The Douglas up the hill he led, And at the Castle’s battled verge, With sighs resign’d his honour’d charge. xxx. The offended Monarch rode apart, With bitter thought and swelling heart, And would not now vouchsafe again 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; CANTO V.] THE COMBAT. 167 'With like acclaim they hail’d the day, When first I broke the Douglas’ sway; 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 ! XXXI. “ But soft! what messenger of speed Spurs hitherward his panting steed ? I guess his cognizance afar— What from our cousin, John of Mar ?” u 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, 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 from such danger he provide, With scanty train you will not ride.'’ 168 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v. XXXII. “ Thou warn’st me I have done amiss,— I should have earlier look’d 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 turn’d 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 spurn’d, And to his towers the King return’d. XXXIII. Ill with King James’s mood that day, Suited gay feast and minstrel lay ; Soon were dismiss’d the courtly throng, And soon cut short the festal song. Nor less upon the sadden’d town The evening sunk in sorrow down. CA] TTO V.f THE COMBAT. 169 The burghers spoke of civil jar, Of rumour’d feuds and mountain war, Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, All up in arms:—the Douglas too, They mourn’d him pent within the hold, “ Where stout Earl William was of old.” And there his word the speaker staid, And finger on his lip he laid, Or pointed to his dagger blade. But jaded horsemen, from the west, At evening to the Castle press’d ; And busy talkers said they bore Tidings of fight on Katrine’s shore ; At noon the deadly fray begun, And lasted till the set of sun. Thus giddy rumour shook the town, Till closed the Night her pennons brown. NOTES TO CANTO V. 143, vi. — The young King, mew 1 din Stirling tower, Was stranger to respect and power. There is scarcely a more disorderly period of Scottish his¬ tory than that which succeeded the battle of Flodden, and occupied the minority of James V. Feuds of ancient stand¬ ing broke out like old wounds, and every quarrel among the independent nobility, which occurred daily, and almost hourly, gave rise to fresh bloodshed.—See Pitscottie, p. 121, 133. 144, vii. — The Gael, of plain and river heir. Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share. The ancient Highlanders, so far, indeed, held a Creagh, or foray, from being disgraceful, that a young chief was always expected to show his talents for command so soon as he as¬ sumed it, by leading his clan on a successful enterprize of this nature, either against a neighbouring sept, for which constant feuds usually furnished an apology, or against the Sassenach, Saxons, or Lowlanders, for which no apology was necessary. The Gael’s great traditional historians never forgot that the Lowlands had, at some remote period, been the property of their Celtic forefathers, which furnished an ample vindication of all the ravages that they could make on the unfortunate districts which lay within their reach. Sir James Grant of Grant is in possession of a letter of apology from Cameron of Lochiel, whose men had committed some depredation upon a farm called Moines, occupied by one of the Grants. Lochiel assures Grant, that, however the mistake had happened, his instructions were precise, that the party should foray the pro¬ vince of Moray (a Lowland district), where, as he coolly observes, “ all men take their prey.” 148, xi.— I only meant To shew the reed on which you leant. This incident, like some other passages in the poem, illus¬ trative of the character of the ancient Gael, is not imaginary, NOTES TO CANTO V. 171 but borrowed from fact. The Highlanders, with the incon¬ sistency of most nations in the same state, were alter¬ nately capable of great exertions of generosity, and of cruel revenge and perfidy. The following story I can only quote from tradition, but with such an assurance from those by whom it was communicated, as permits me little doubt of its authenticity. “ Early in the last century, John Gunn, a noted Cateran, or Highland robber, infested Inverness-shire, and levied black-mail up to the walls 0* the provincial capital. A garrison was then maintained in the castle 0* that town, and their pay (country banks being unknown) was usually transmitted in specie, under the guard of a small escort. It chanced that the officer who commanded this little party was unexpectedly obliged to halt, about thirty miles from Inverness, at a miserable inn. About nightfall, a stranger in the Highland dress, and of very prepos¬ sessing appearance, entered the same house. Separate accommodation being impossible, the Englishman offered the newly-arrived guest a part of his supper, which was accepted with reluctance. By the conversation he found his new acquaintance knew well all the passes of the country, which induced him eagerly to request his company on the ensuing morn¬ ing. He neither disguised his business and charge, nor his apprehen¬ sions of that celebrated freebooter, John Gunn. The Highlander hesi¬ tated a moment, and then frankly consented to be his guide. Forth they set in the morning; and, in travelling through a solitary and dreary glen, the discourse again turned on John Gunn. ‘Would you like to see him?’ said the guide; and, without waiting an answer to this alarm¬ ing question, he whistled, and the English officer, with his small party, were surrounded by a body of Highlanders, whose numbers put resist¬ ance out of question, and who were all well armed. ‘ Stranger, resumed the guide, ‘ I am that very John Gunn by whom you feared to be intercepted, and not without cause : for I came to the inn last night with the express purpose of learning your route, that I and my followers might ease you of your charge by the road. But I am incapable of be¬ traying the trust you reposed in me, and having convinced you that you were in my power, lean only dismiss you unplundered and uninjured.' He then gave the officer directions for his journey, and disappeared with his party as suddenly as they had presented themselves.” 149, xii.— Bochastle. The torrent which discharges itself from Loch Vennachar, the lowest and eastmost of the three lakes which form the scenery adjoining to the Trosachs, sweeps through a flat and extensive moor, called Bochastle. Upon a small eminence, called the Dim of Bochastle, and indeed on the plain itself, are some intrenchments, which have been thought Roman. There is adjacent to Callander, a sweet villa, the residence of Captain Fairfoul, entitled the Roman Camp. 172 THE LADY OF THE LAKE . 149, xii.— See, here, all vantageless I stand. Arm'd like thyself, with single brand. The duellists of former times did not always stand upon those punctilios respecting equality of arms, which are now judged essential to fair combat. It is true, that in formal combats in the lists, the parties were, by the judges of the field, put as nearly as possible in the same circumstances. But in private duel it was often otherwise. In that desperate combat which was fought between Quelus, a minion of Henry III. of France, and Antraguet, with two seconds on each side, from which only two persons escaped alive, Quelus complained that his antagonist had over him the advantage of a poniard which he used in parrying, while his left hand, which he was forced to employ for the same purpose, was cruelly mangled. But at this time hardly anything can be conceived more horridly brutal and savage, than the mode in which private quarrels were conducted in France.—See Oeuvres de Brantome, viii. 90-92. 152, xv .—III fared it then with Roderick Dhu, That on the field his targe he threw. A round target of light wood, covered with strong leather, and studded with brass or iron, was a necessary part of a Highlander’s equipment. In charging regular troops they received the thrust of the bayonet in this buckler, twisted it aside, and used the broadsword against the encumbered sol¬ dier. In the civil w r ar of 1745 ’ most of the front rank of the clans were thus armed ; and Captain Grose informs us, that in 1747, the privates of the 42d regiment, then in Flanders, were for the most part permitted to carry targets .—Military Antiquities, vol. i. p. 164. I 5 2 > xv < For, train d abroad his arms to wield, Fitz- James's blade was sword and shield. The use of defensive armour, and particularly of the buckler or target, was general in Queen Elizabeth’s time, although tha- of single rapier seems to have been occasionally practised much earlier.—See Douce’s Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. 11. p. 61 ; also Brantome’s Discourse on Duels. NOTES TO CANTO V. 173 153, xvi.— Like mountain-cat who guards her young, Full at Fitz-James’s throat he sprung. 1 have not ventured to render this duel so savagely des¬ perate as that of the celebrated Sir Ewan of Lochiel, chief of the clan Cameron, called, from his sable complexion, Ewan Dhu. He was the last man in Scotland who maintained the royal cause during the great Civd War, and his constant in¬ cursions rendered him a very unpleasant neighbour to the republic garrison at Inverlochy ; now Fort William. The governor of the fort detached a party of three hundred men to lay waste Lochiel’s possessions, and cut down his trees ; but, in a sudden and desperate attack made upon them by the chieftain with very inferior numbers, they were almost all cut to pieces. The skirmish is detailed in a curious me¬ moir of Sir Ewan’s life in Pennant’s Scottish Tour. 1 57 > xx.— Ye towers! within whose circuit dread A Douglas by his sovereign bled. Stirling was often polluted with noble blood. The fate of William, eighth Earl of Douglas, whom James II. stabbed in Stirling Castle with his own hand, and while under his royal safe-conduct, is familiar to all who read Scottish history. An eminence on the north-east of the Castle, where state criminals were executed, is called the Heading-Hill. 158, xx.— The burghers hold their sports to-day. Every burgh of Scotland, of the least note, but more especi¬ ally the considerable towns, had their solemn play, or festival, when feats of archery were exhibited, and prizes distributed to those who excelled in wrestling, hurling the bar, and the other gymnastic exercises of the period. Stirling, a usual place of royal residence, was not likely to be deficient in pomp upon such occasions, especially since James V. was very partial to them. His ready participation in diese pop¬ ular amusements was one cause of his acquiring the title of the King of the Commons, or Rex Plebeiorum, as Lesly has latinized it. Of James’s attachment to archery, Pitscottie, the faithful, though rude recorder of the manners of that, period, has given us evidence.—P. 147* 174 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 159, xxii.— Robin Hood. The exhibition of this renowned outlaw and his band was a favourite frolic at such festivals as we are describing. This sporting in which kings did not disdain to be actors, was pro¬ hibited in Scotland upon the Reformation, by a statute of the 6th Parliament of Queen Mary, c. 61, A. u. 1555, which ordered under heavy penalties, that, “ na manner of person be chosen Robert Hude, nor Littlejohn, Abbot of Unreason, Queen of May, nor otherwise.” But in 1561, the “rascal multitude,” says John Knox, “were stirred up to make a Robin Hude, whilk enormity was of many years left and damned by statute and act of Parliament; yet would they not be forbidden.”—See Book of the Universal Kirk, p. 414. 160, xxiii.— Lndifferent as to archer wight, The monarch gave the arrow bright. The Douglas of the poem is an imaginary person, a sup¬ posed uncle of the Earl of Angus. But the king’s behaviour during an unexpected interview with the Laird of Kilspindie, one of the banished Douglasses, under circumstances similar to those in the text, is imitated from a real story told by Hume of Godscroft.—107, vol. ii.; see also Scottish Historical and Romantic Ballads, Glasgow, 1808, vol. ii. p. 117. 160, xxiii.— Prize of the wrestling match, the King To Douglas gave a golden ring. The usual prize of a wrestling was a ram and a ring, but the animal would have embarrassed my story. Thus, in the Cokes Tale of Gamelyn, ascribed to Chaucer : “ There happed to be there beside Tryed a wrestling; And therefore there was y-settea A ram and als a ring.” CANTO SIXTH. <&Ije duarti-fiootn. i. T HE 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, 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, Are witness’d by that red and struggling beam ! The fever’d patient, from his pallet low, Through crowded hospital beholds its stream; The ruin’d maiden trembles at its gleam, The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail, 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. 176 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [canto vi While 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, And show’d wild shapes in garb of war, 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; Some, chill’d with watching, spread their hands O’er the huge chimney’s dying brands, While round them, or beside them flung, At every step their harness rung. III. These drew not for their fields the sword, Like tenants of a feudal lord, Nor own’d the patriarchal claim 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; canto vi.] THE GUARD ROOM. 177 The mountain-loving Switzer there More freely breathed in mountain-air; The Fleming there despised the soil, That paid so ill the labourer’s toil ; Their rolls show’d French and German name; And merry England’s exiles came, To share, with ill-conceal’d disdain, Of Scotland’s pay the scanty gain. All brave in arms, well train’d to wield The heavy halberd, brand, and shield; In camps licentious, wild, and bold; In pillage fierce and uncontroll’d; And now, by holytide and feast, From rules of discipline released. IV. They held debate of bloody fray, 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, Whose mangled limbs, and bodies gored, Bore token of the mountain sword, Though, neighbouring to the Court of Guard, Their prayers and feverish wails were heard; Sad burden to the ruffian joke, And savage oath by fury spoke !—• At length up-started John of Brent, A yeoman from the banks of Trent; A stranger to respect or fear, In peace a chaser of the deer, M 178 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi. 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 marr’d the dicer’s brawling sport, 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.” v. JBolbter'sf Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown bowl, That there’s wrath and despair in the jolly back-jack, And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack; Yet whoop, Barnaby ! off with thy liquor, Drink upsees out, and a fig for the vicar ! Our vicar he calls it damnation to sip The ripe ruddy dew of a woman’s dear lip, Says, that Beelzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly, And Apollyon shoots darts from her merry black eye; Yet whoop, Jack ! kiss Gillian the quicker, Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for the vicar ! Our vicar thus preaches—and why should he not ? For the dues of his cure are the placket and pot; And ’tis right of his office poor laymen to lurch, Who infringe the domains of our good Mother Church Yet whoop, bully-boys ! off with your liquor, Sweet Marjorie’s the word, and a fig for the vicar ! CANTO VI.] TIRE GUARD-ROOM. 179 VI. 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 ! 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, 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.”— 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, i8o THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi- 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. VIII. 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 CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. In every feat or good or ill,— “ I shame me of the part I play’d : And thou an outlaw’s child, poor maid! An outlaw I by forest laws, 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. Here ye, my mates;—I go to call The Captain of our watch to hall: There lies my halberd on the floor ; 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: 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 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. THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi, 182 “ 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 thy high quest a knight require, Or may the venture suit a squire?”— Her dark eye flash’d;—she paused and sigh’d,—- u 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, 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 CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 183 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 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, Where gayer crests may keep afar.” With thanks,—’twas all she could—the maid His rugged courtesy repaid. XI. When Ellen forth with Lewis went, Allan made suit to John of Brent:—• “ My lady safe, O 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 soothe 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 soothe his sleep, Nor leave him till we pour our verse,— 184 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto VI. 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, I had not dwelt a outcast here. Come, good old Minstrel, follow me ; Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou sec.” XII. 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 headsman’s sword, And many a hideous engine grim, For wrenching joint, and crushing limb, By artist 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, While bolt and chain he backward roll’d, And made the bar unhasp its hold. CANTO VI. J THE GUARD-ROOM. 18 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; 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 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 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. XIII. 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;— \ U\ THE LADY OF THE 7.AKE. [canto vi. i 86 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 ? 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;—■ 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!”— “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.” XIV. The Chieftain rear’d his form on high, And fever’s fire was in his eye ; But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks Chequer’d his swarthy brow and cheeks. —“ 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 ! . . . CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 187 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, When met my clan the Saxon might. I’ll listen, till my fancy hears The clang of swords, the crash of spears ! These grates, these walls, shall vanish then, For the fair field of fighting men, And my free spirit burst away, As if it soar’d from battle fray.” The trembling Bard with awe obey’d,— Slow on the harp his hand he laid ; But soon remembrance of the sight He witness’d from the mountain’s height, With what old Bertram told at night, Awaken’d the full power of song, And bore him in career along ; As shallop launch’d on river’s tide, That slow and fearful leaves the side, But, when it feels the middle stream, Drives downward swift as lightning’s beam. XV. IHattle of an Jluine. “The Minstrel came once more to view The eastern ridge of Benvenue, For ere he parted, he would say F arewell to lovely Loch Achray— Where shall he find, in foreign land, THE LAD Y OF THE LAKE, [canto vi. i 88 So lone a lake, so sweet a strand 1 — There is no breeze upon the fern, N o 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, 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, 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 The sun’s retiring beams ? •—I see the dagger-crest of Mar, I see the Moray’s silver star, Wave o’er the cloud of Saxon war, That up the lake comes winding far ! To hero bound for battle-strife, Or bard of martial lay, ’Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, One glance at their array ! XVI. “ Their light-arm’d archers far and near Survey’d the tangled ground, Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, A twilight forest frown’d, CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 189 Their barbed horsemen, in the rear, The stern battalia crown’d. No cymbal clash’d, no clarion rang, Still were the pipe and drum; Save heavy tread, and armour’s clang, The sullen march was dumb. There breathed no wind their crests to shake Or wave their flags abroad; Scarce the frail aspen seem’d to quake, That shadow’d o’er their road. Their vaward scouts no tidings bring, Can rouse no lurking foe, Nor spy a trace of living thing, Save when they stirr’d the roe; The host moves like a deep-sea wave, Where rLe no rocks its pride to brave, High-swelling, dark, and slow, The lake is pass’d, and now they gain A narrow and a broken plain, Before the Trosachs’ 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 peal’d the banner-cry of hell! Forth from the pass in tumult driven, Like chaff before the wind of heaven, The archery appear; 190 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi. For life ! for life ! their plight 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. Onward they drive, in dreadful race, Pursuers and pursued; 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 !’ Like reeds before the tempest’s frown, That serried grove of lances brown At once lay levell’d low; And closely shouldering side to side, The bristling ranks the onset bide.— ‘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, 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, Each targe was dark below; And with the ocean’s mighty swing, When heaving to the tempest’s wing, CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 191 They hurl’d them on the foe. I heard the lance’s shivering crash, As when the whirlwind rends the ash; I heard the broadsword’s deadly clang, As if an hundred anvils rang ! But Moray wheel’d his rearward rank Of horsemen on Clan-Alpine’s flank, —‘ My banner-man, advance! I see,’ he cried, 1 their column shake.— Now, gallants ! for your ladies’ sake, Upon them with the lance!’— The horsemen dash’d among the rout, 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! One blast upon his bugle-horn Were worth a thousand men. And refluent through the pass of fear The battle’s tide was pour’d; Vanish’d the Saxon’s struggling spear, Vanish’d 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, 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. 192 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi. XIX. “ Now westward rolls the battle’s din, 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.— Grey Benvenue I soon repass’d, Loch Katrine lay beneath me cast. The sun is set;—the clouds are met, The lowering scowl of heaven An inky hue of livid blue To the deep lake has given ; Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen Swept o’er the lake, then sunk agen. I heeded not the eddying surge, Mine eye but saw the Trosachs’ gorge, Mine ear but heard the 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 The dirge of many a passing soul. Nearer it comes—the dim-wood glen The martial flood disgorged agen, But not in mingled tide; The plaided warriors of the North High on the mountain thunder forth And overhang its side; While by the lake below appears The darkening cloud of Saxon spears. CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. At weary bay each shatter’d band, Eyeing their foemen, sternly stand; Their banners stream like tatter’d sail, That flings its fragments to the gale, And broken arms and disarray Mark’d the fell havoc of the day. XX. “ Viewing the mountain’s ridge askance, The Saxon stood in sullen trance, Till Moray pointed with his lance, And cried—‘ Behold yon isle!— See! none are left to guard its strand, 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, 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 Tanks a spearman sprung, On earth his casque and corslet rung, He plunged him in the wave:— All saw the deed—the purpose knew, And to their clamours Benvenue A mingled echo gave ; The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer, The helpless females scream for fear, And yells for rage the mountaineer. ’Twas then, as by the outcry riven, Pour’d down at once the lowering heaven; 194 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi A whirlwind swept Loch Katrine’s breast, Her billows rear’d their snowy crest. Well for the swimmer swell’d they high, To mar the Highland marksman’s eye; For round him shower’d, ’mid rain and hail, The vengeful arrows of the Gael.— 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 mark’d Duncraggan’s widow’d dame, Behind an oak I saw her stand, A naked dirk gleam’d in her hand:— It darken’d,—but amid the moan Of waves, I heard a dying groan; Another flash!—the spearman floats 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. 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, 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 CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 195 An herald’s voice forbade the war, 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 How Roderick brook’d 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; At length, no more his deafen’d ear The minstrel melody can hear; His face grows sharp,—his hands are clench’d As if some pang his heart-strings wrench’d ; Set are his teeth, his fading eye Is sternly fix’d on vacancy; Thus, motionless, and moanless drew His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu !— Old Allan-bane look’d on aghast, While grim and still his spirit pass’d; But when he saw that life was fled, He pour’d his wailing o’er the dead. XXII. fitment. “ And art thou cold and lowly laid, Thy foeman’s dread, thy people’s aid, Breadalbane’s boast, Clan-Alpine’s shade! For thee shall none a requiem say?— For thee,—who loved the minstrel’s lay, For thee, of Bothwell’s house the stay, 196 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto The shelter of her exiled line, E’en in this prison-house of thine, I’ll wail for Alpine’s honour’d 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, 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.- - O woe for Alpine’s honour’d Pine! “ Sad was thy lot on mortal stage!— The captive thrush may brook the cage, The prison’d eagle dies for rage. Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain ! And when its notes awake again, 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 honour’d Pine.’’- - XXIII. Ellen, the while, with bursting heart, Remain’d in lordly bower apart, Where play’d, with many-colour’d gleams, Through storied pane the rising beams. In vain on gilded roof they fall, And lighten’d up a tapestried wall, And for her use a menial train A rich collation spread in vain. CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 197 The banquet proud, the chamber gay, Scarce drew one curious glance astray; Or, if she look’d, ’twas but to say, With better omen dawn’d the day In that lone isle, where waved on high The dun-deer’s hide for canopy; Where oft her noble father shared The simple meal her care prepared, While Lufra, crouching by her side, Her station claim’d with jealous pride, And Douglas, bent on woodland game, Spoke of the chase to Malcolm Graeme, Whose answer, oft at random made, The wandering of his thoughts betray’d. — 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. What distant music has the power To win her in this woful hour! ’Twas from a turret that o’erhung Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. xxiv. of tlje 3£mpt*t£otteb Utmtgman. “ My hawk is tired of perch and hood, 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, 198 THE LAD Y OF THE LAKE, [canto vi. 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, 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. 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, 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 list’ner had not turn’d her head It trickled still, the starting tear, When light a footstep struck her ear, And Snowdoun’s graceful Knight was near. She turn’d the hastier, lest again The prisoner should renew his strain. “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, CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 199 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. 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, And gently whisper’d hope and cheer; Her faltering steps half led, half staid, Through gallery fair and high arcade, Till, at his touch, its wings of pride A portal arch unfolded wide. XXVI. Within ’twas brilliant all and light, A thronging scene of figures bright; It glow’d on Ellen’s dazzled sight, As when the setting sun has given Ten thousand hues to summer even, 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, And fearful round the presence gazed; For him she sought, who own’d this state, The dreaded Prince whose will was fate !— She gazed on many a princely port, Might well have ruled a royal court; 200 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi. On many a splendid garb she gazed, Then turn’d bewilder’d 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; 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! 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.— She show’d the ring—she clasp’d her hands. O ! not a moment could he brook, The generous Prince, that suppliant look! Gently he raised her,—and, the while, Check’d with a glance the circle’s smile ; Graceful, but grave, her brow he kiss’d, And bade her terrors be dismiss’d :— Yes, Fair; the wandering poor Fitz-James The feality of Scotland claims. To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring; He will redeem his signet ring. Ask nought for Douglas;—yester even, His Prince and he have much forgiven : Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue, I? from his rebel kinsmen, wrong-. 7 O CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 201 We would not, to the vulgar crowd, Yield what they craved with clamour loud; Calmly we heard and judged his cause, Our council aided, and our laws. I stanch’d thy father’s death-feud stern, With stout De Vaux and Grey 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 ? 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, 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; He stepp’d between—“ Nay, Douglas, nay, Steal not my proselyte away! The riddle ’tis my right to read, That brought this happy chance to speed. —Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray In life’s more low but happier way, ’Tis 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. 202 THE LAD Y OF THE LAKE. [canto vi. Thus watch I o’er insulted laws, Thus learn to right the injured cause.”— Then, in a tone apart and low,— “ Ah, little traitress ! none must know What idle dream, what lighter thought, What vanity full dearly bought, Join’d 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!”— 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 guess’d He probed the weakness of her breast; But, with that conciousness, there came A lightening of her fears for Graeme, And more she deem’d the monarch’s ire Kindled ’gainst him, who, for her sire 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, 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 ? CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM. 203 No other captive friend to save?” Blushing, she turn’d her from the King, And to the Douglas gave the ring, As if she wish’d her sire to speak The suit that stain’d her glowing cheek.— “ Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force, And stubborn justice holds her course.— Malcolm, come forth!” and at the word, Down kneel’d the Graeme to Scotland’s Lord. “ For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues, 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 outlaw’d man, Dishonouring 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, And laid the clasp on Ellen’s hand. H ARP 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. 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 herd-boy’s evening pipe, and hum of housing bee. 204 TILE LADY OF THE LA HE. [canto vi. Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel harp! 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, Through secret woes the world has never known. When on the weary night dawn’d wearier day, And bitterer was the grief devour’d alone. That I o’erlive such woes, Enchantress! is thine own. Hark! as my lingering footsteps slow retire, 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, And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring A wandering witch-note of the distant spell— And now, ’tis silent all!—Enchantress, fare thee well! NOTES TO CANTO VI. 176, iii. — These drew not for their fields the sword, Like tenants of a feudal lord , Nor own'd the patriarchal claim Of Chieftain in their leader s name; Adventurers they. The Scottish armies consisted chiefly of the nobility and barons, with their vassals, who held lands under them, for military service by themselves and their tenants. The patri¬ archal influence exercised by the heads of clans in the High¬ lands and Borders was of a different nature, and sometimes at variance with feudal principles. It flowed from the Patria Potestas, exercised by the chieftain as representing the original father of the whole name, and was often obeyed in contra¬ diction to the feudal superior. James V. seems first to have introduced, in addition to the militia furnished from these sources, the service of a small number of mercenaries, who formed a body-guard, called the Foot-Band. The satirical poet, Sir David Lindsay, (or the person who wrote the pro¬ logue to his play of the “Three Estaites,”) has introduced Finlay of the Foot-Band, who, after much swaggering upon the stage, is at length put to flight by the Fool, who terrifies him by means of a sheep’s skull upon a pole. I have rather chosen to give them the harsh features of the mercenary sol¬ diers of the period, than of this Scottish Thraso. These par¬ took of the character of the Adventurous Companions of Froissart, or the Condottieri of Italy. 179, vi.— Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp , Get thee an ape, and trudge the land. The jongleurs, or jugglers, as we learn from the elaborate work of the late Mr. Strutt, on the sports and pastimes of the people of England, used to call in the aid of various as¬ sistants, to render these performances as captivating as possible. 206 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. The glee-maiden was a necessary attendant. Her duty was tumbling and dancing; and therefore the Anglo- Saxon ver¬ sion of Saint Mark’s Gospel states Herodias to have vaulted or tumbled before King Herod. In Scotland, these poor creatures seem, even at a late period, to have been bonds¬ women to their masters, as appears from a case reported by Fountainhall.—See Fountainhall’s Decisions, vol. i. p. 439. 187, xiv.— -That stirring air that peals on high, O'er Dermid's race our victory. There are several instances, at least in tradition, of persons so much attached to particular tunes, as to require to hear them on their death-bed. Such an anecdote is mentioned by the late Mr. Riddel of Glenriddel, in his collection of Border tunes, respecting an air called the “ Dandling of the Bairns,” for which a certain Gallovidian laird is said to have evinced this strong mark of partiality. It is popularly told of a famous freebooter, that he composed the tune known by the name of Macpherson’s rant while under sentence of death, and played it at the gallows-tree. Some spirited words have been adapted to it by Burns. A similar story is recounted of a Welsh bard, who composed and played on his death-bed the air called Dafyddy Garregg Wen. 187, xv.— Battle of Beal' an Duine. A skirmish actually took place at a pass thus called in the Trosachs, and closed with the remarkable incident men¬ tioned in the text. It was greatly posterior in date to the reign of James V.— Sketch of the Scenery near Callander, Stir¬ ling, 1806, p. 20. 200, xxvi.— And Snowdoun s Knight is Scotland's King. This discovery will probably remind the reader of the beautiful Arabian tale of II Bondocani. Yet the incident is not borrowed from that elegant story, but from Scottish tradition. James V., of whom we are treating, was a monarch whose good and benevolent intentions often ren¬ dered his romantic freaks venial, if not respectable, since, from his anxious attention to the interests of the lower and NOTES TO CANTO VI. 207 most oppressed class of his subjects, he was, as we have seen, popularly termed the King of the Commons. For the purpose of seeing that justice was regularly administered, and frequently from the less justifiable motive of gallantry, he used to traverse the vicinage of his several palaces in various disguises. The two excellent comic songs, entitled, “ The Gaberlunzie Man,” and “ We’ll gang nae rnair a roving,” are said to have been founded upon the success of his amorous adventures when travelling in the disguise of a beggar. The latter is perhaps the best comic ballad in any language.—See Tales of a Grandfather , first series, chap, xxvii. 201, xxviii.— Stirling 1 s tozver Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims. William of Worcester, who wrote about the middle of the fifteenth century, calls Stirling Castle Snowdoun. Sir David Lindsay bestows the same epithet upon it in his Com¬ plaint of the Papingo :— “ Adieu, fair Snawdoun, with thy towers high, Thy chapel-royal, park, and table round ; May, June, and July would I dwell in thea, Were I a man, to hear the birdis sound, Whilk doth againe thy royal rock rebound.” INDEX. In the pronunciation of Gaelic words, A sounds aw: e, a ; i, ee; u, co; c, k ; bh and mh, v. Aberfoyle, 6 ; famous as the scene of many incidents in “ Rob Roy.” The name, Abir-a-fihuil , means “ the junction of the pools.” Alice Brand, ballad, 114. Alice, Brian’s mother, 75. Allan-bane, foresees the Hunter’s plight, 19 ; “minstrel grey,” 35, see note, p. 66; described, 37 ; his harp forebodes, 39 ; his wish for Ellen, 42, ; tells her of Roderick’s expectations, 43; “ pattern of old fidelity,” 64; tries to comfort Ellen, in, 113; sings Alice Brand, 114; admitted to Roderick’s cell, 184; plays the battle of Beal' an duine, 187 ; plays Roderick’s lament, 195. Allan (river), 124. Alloa, John of, 160. Anathema, the, 78. Angus crosses the Teith, 87. Archery Match, 160. Armandave, 87 ; near Pass of Leny. Astrand, for stranded, 185. Balvaig, 91; a stream in Strath Ire. Bannochar, 49; once a stronghold of the Colquhouns. Barret-cap, 183 ; battle-cap. Battle, the site of one, 74. Bayard, Fitz-Jantes’ horse, 155. Beal’ an Duine, “pass of the man,” battle of, 187. See note, p. 206. Beal’ ntaha, the pass of, 107. Beal-nam-bo, “ the cows’ pass,” 79. See note, p. 103. Beltane game, 46. The 1st of May was devoted to the observance of games and ceremonies supposed to date from anti-Christian times. See Benledi. Ben-an, 13. Graham says the name is the diminutive of moun¬ tain. Though only 1800 feet high, it can hardly be so called. Ben-aon, the “alone” or “sepa¬ rate ” mountain, is a likelier ety¬ mology. Ben-an’s grey scalp, 78. Benharrow, probable etymology, Tharibh, “ Bullsstands at the head of Loch Lomond, 73 ; its den, 76 ; its “shingly side,” 77. Benledi, 7 ; 3000 feet high. Beinn- le-dia, “the mountain of God” — the god Bel or Baal, to whose worship it is said to have been dedicated. Beltane (May-day) G derived from Belteine, “ Bel’s fire.” These etymologies and traditional rites harmonize with conclusions regarding the migra¬ tions of the Celtic race, based upon the evidence of comparative philology. Ben-Lomond, 54; the furthest west of the Grampian range, is 3200 above the level of the lake; famous for the view from its top, and forms the most noted feature of the landscape, viewed from Stirling Castle. Ben-Shie, “Peace woman.” “bod¬ ing scream,” 77. See note, p. 100. o 210 INDEX. Benvenue, 6; height 2900 feet The etymology of “Venue is doubtful. Scott calls it the httle mountain, as compared with Ben- Lomond and Benledi. As the comparison can only be made at a distance where the difference in height is hardly apparent, this is not a likely meaning. Ben- mheadhonach, pronounced Ben- vseunach,” meaning “ central, is descriptive of its relation to the others: “ grey summit wild, 92; skirts of, 91; grey Benvenue, 192. Benvoirlich, 4, 5 i stands at the head of Lochearn, 3300 feet high. The name is Beinn-mhor-hch, “ great mountain of the lake. ’ Scott represents the sun with beacon red” rising on Benvoir¬ lich. From the standpoint of the stag this is not the case, for it is north-west of Glenartney, the stag’s “ midnight lair.” Bertram of Ghent, 179 ; conducts Ellen and Allan to Stirling. Bittern’s (the) cry sings us the lake s wild lullaby, 133- , , . , Black-Jack, 178; a leather drink¬ ing cup. Blair-Drummond, 155 ; the seat of the Home Drummonds, Lord Karnes’ descendants. Blanche of Devan (Devon), de¬ scribed, 123 ; “seemed nought to mark, yet all to spy ’’—sings, 124; her wrongs, 125; sings “ 1 he toils are pitched,” 126; is shot, 127; her death, 129 ; revenged, 154. Blantyre hymned her holiest lays, 52. The reference here is to the ancient priory whose ruins are beautifully situated on the Clyde, opposite Bothweli Castle. See Bothweli Castle. Bleeding heart, 42 ; the well-known cognizance of the Douglasses, 58. Boat song, “ Hail to the chief,” 49. Bochastle, 7: a tract of heath at the base of Benledi, where are the remains of an ancient fort. A pool in the centre, likely a reser¬ voir, being resorted to by cattle, will account for the name, bo, Gaelic for cow, 97, 120 ; “where Rome, the Empress of the world,’ 149. See note, p. 171. Border chivalry, the King’s treat¬ ment of, 56. See note, p. 70. Bosky, 83; woody. Boune, ready, no. Bothweli Castle “bannered hall, 40; “ bards flung back my praise,” 52. This may have reference to the beautiful air, “Bothweli Bank.” See “Bothweli Castle,” Scott's Poetical Works. The beauties of its situation are described by Wordsworth, Poems, vol. v. 379. Bracken, fern, 89, 97. Bracklinn’s thundering wave. See note, p. 68. Braco, Mar’s messenger, 168. Breadalbane, 49 ; old Gaelic name, Dndm-Athan, “the ridge of Albyn.” . „ . Brianchoil, 46 ; likely front Cnon Coill, “withered wood.” Brian, the Hermit, described, 73, see note, p. 99 ; his mysterious birth, 74 ; his disposition, 75 ; b>s imaginings, 76; a descendant of Alpin, 76; his anathema, 78; im¬ precations against disloyal clans¬ men, 79, 80; tries the Taghairm, 107; reveals the prophecy to Roderick, 109. The prototype of Brian was Gilli-Doir-Maghrevo- lich, “black child, son of the bones,” founder of the Church of Kilmallie. Brigg (bridge) of Turk, 7 ; said by Graham to be the scene of the death of a wild boar famous in Highland tradition, hence the name, from tuirc, pronounced tooirk, genitive of tore, a boar. Bruce, 91 ; Earl of Elgin’s surname. Bull, the white, of Duncraggan, 107. See note, p, 134; also the Intro¬ duction to “ Cadyow Castle,’ Scott's Poetical Works. Burgher’s sports, 158. See note, p. 173- INDEX. 211 Cambus-Kenneth, 1T3; “ abbey- grey,” 157 ; founded by David I. Cambus-more, 7 ; an estate about two miles from Callander, at the mansion-house of which Scott resided when first he visited the scenery of the Trosachs, and where he frequently spent his autumn holidays. Cnrdross, 92; the seat of the Erskines. Carhonie’s hill, 155. Canna’s hoary beard, 46; cotton grass; its Gaelic name is Canach. Chorus, The Gaelic chorus at p. 49 is translated literally at p. 69. Scott’s translation pro¬ perly rendered in Gaelic would be Ruairidk dim mhic Alfian, with the vocal prolongation, ho ! ieroe. In the note, p. 69, Mac- Callum is altered to MacCailean, “ son of Colin,” the former being son of Malcolm. Clan Alpine’s pine, 142. Several clans claim descent from Alpin ; the mostfamous is the M‘Gregors, whose badge is the Scotch fir; their crest is a lion’s head, with antique crown; and their motto, ’s rioghal mo dhream, “ My tribe is royal.” See note, p. 102. Clansmen arrayed, their romantic appearance, 94, 97; sudden ap¬ pearance, 146; disappearance, 147. Coilantogle’s ford, 133, 148; “for this is Coilantogle ford,” 150. Coil, martial, 91; warlike commo¬ tion. Coir-Uriskin, 79, see note, p. 103 ; described, 92, hi. Combat, the, 151. See notes, p. 172. Coronach, 83 ; dirge, lament. See note, p. 101. Correi, 84 ; the hollow side of a hill, where game resorts. Courtesy’s bright star, 139. Craig-Forth, “thy cliffs,” 156. Cumber, 84; difficulty, with cattle. Cushat, 72; the wood pigeon. Damosel, 182 ; for damsel. Deanstown, 155; celebrated for its cotton works. De Vaux, 155, 201. Douglas, meeting his daughter Ellen, 51; feelings towards her and the minstrel, 52 ; escapes his pursuers, aided by Malcolm Grseme, 55 ; speech — advising Roderick, and offering to quit his protection, 57; denies Ellen to Roderick, and asserts his loyalty, 60 ; prevents Roderick and Grseme from fighting, 62; retired to Coir-nan-Uriskin, 92 ; ap¬ proaching Stirling Castle, 157; resolves to join the burgher’s sports, 158 ; wins at archery and wrestling, 160; casts the stone, 161; evoked the sympathy of the crowd, 161; resents the striking of his hound, 163; rebuked by the King and arrested, 164; speech to the mob, 165 ; restored to the King’s favour, 201. Douglasses, their memory haunts the Hunter, 28 ; “to ruin driven,” 40. See notes, p. 67. Doune Castle, the ancient seat of the Earls of Menteith, was a fre¬ quent resort of the Scottish monarchs, no, 142; “the ban¬ nered towers of,” 155. Doune Braes, 105. Dream, the Hunter’s, 27. Duchray’s towers, 92; the seat of a branch of the Grahams. Duncan of Duncraggan, his_ coro¬ nach, 83; his widow’s spirit, 86; her courageous act, 194. Duncraggan, 83; white bull, 107. Dunfermline grey, 118. Earn, clans of, no. Elfin king and queen, 116. See notes, p. 136. Ellen Douglas (The Lady of the Lake), her first appearance, 14; described, 15 ; her character, 16; startled at the Hunter, 17; tells him of his coming being fore¬ known, 18 ; bids him adieu, 38 ; 212 INDEX. soothes the minstrel, 40; adopts the harebell as her emblem, 41 ; compliments the minstrel on his skill, and owns her sway oyer Roderick, 42; her determination to reject him, 44 ; shows her aversion to him, 51 ; meets her father and Malcolm Graeme, 51 ; in a trying dilemma, 59, 62; “ ’tis Ellen, or an angel sings,” 95; tells Allan-Bane her fears, 112; startled by Fitz-James’s sudden reappear¬ ance, 119; tells him of her en¬ gagement, 120; “safer for both we go apart,” 121 ; reception in 1 Stirling, 179, 182 ; thinks of the Isle, 197; dazzled at Court, 199; pleads for Roderick, 202. Enow, for enough, 58. Erne, the eagle, 188. Espial, watch, spy, 57. Ethert Brand, 117, 118. Ettrick streams, 56. i Fairy king, 118. See notes, pp. 136, 137 - Fiery cross (the), 63; “ glanced like a meteor round,” 71, see notes, pp. 98,102; formed, 73 ; rites per¬ formed regarding, 77; effects of its progress, 82, 91. Fitz-Jallies, “KnightofSnowdoun,” 23 ; see Hunter ; unexpectedly appears at Coir-Uriskin, 119; declares his purpose, 120 ; leaves, and gives Ellen the signet ring, 121 ; suspects Murdoch, 122 ; “ Ah ! gallant grey !” 123; threat¬ ens Murdoch, 125; suspicions confirmed by Blanche’s song, 126; accuses Murdoch of treachery and kills him, 127 ; gets the lock of hair from Blanche, T28; be¬ wildered, 130; comes upon Rode¬ rick’s watch-fire, entertained by him unawares, 132; is guided by him, x 39; answers him evasively, 142; at bay, “come one, come all!” 147; proposes peace with Roderick, 150; now truce fare¬ well,” 151; “unwounded from the dreadful close,” 153; joined by two knights, 154 ; starts for Stirling, 155 ; recognizes Douglas, 156; leads Ellen to the King, 199; “Yes, fair; the wandering, poor Fitz-James the fealty of Scotland claims,” 200. Flowers of the Trosachs, 10, 21. Foray, 84 ; a plundering expedition. Forth, Links of, 58 ; the level and fertile lands along the windings of the Forth. The popular idea of their value in this respect is expressed in the couplet— “A crook of the Forth Is worth an earldom of the north.” windings of, 140; dark Forth, 156. Friar Tuck, 159; Robin Hood’s celebrated chaplain. See note, p. 99. Gathering pibroch (the), described, 47, see note, p. 69; for war, 71. Glaive, 115; glave, a sword. Glee-maiden and harp, 179. See note, p. 205. Glenartney, 4; a valley about ten miles from Callander, on the road to Perth. It is traversed by the Artney and Ruchill waters. It was once a royal deer forest, and is still a considerable preserve. Glencairn, Earl of, 201 ; was a Privy-Councillor to James V. Glenfinlas, or Glenfinglas, 55. It is the scene of Scott’s poem of that name, which he says means “the glen of the green women.” It is traversed by the streamlet of the Turk, and is said to have once been a royal deer forest. Glen-Fruin, 49; is a valley off Loch Lomond, and is the scene of a noted clan fight between the M‘Gregors and Colquhouns, of which a detailed account is given in the introduction to Rob Roy. Glengyle, 46 ; a valley at the west end of Loch Katrine. Glen Luss, 49; a valley off Loch Lomond, on the west side, with the village of Luss at its entrance. Luss, or Lus, means “herb.” INDEX . 213 Glinted, reflected, 147. Goat (the) killed, 77. Goblin grim, 76 ; cave. See Coir- Uriskin. Graeme (Malcolm), 39; introduced to Ellen, 52 ; his appearance and character, 53 ; grapples with Roderick, 62; refuses his safe conduct, and takes leave, 63; swims the lake, 64, 157; receives Ellen’s hand from the King, 203. Guard, the, 177; mercenary—its motley character. See note, p. 205. Guard-Room, the, 176; morning, condition of, 176. Harebell (the), Ellen’s emblem, 41. Harp of the North, 3. The re¬ ferences in the invocation are to the times when the harp was the national musical instrument of the Highlands. See note, p. 34. Heading hill, “ O sad and fatal mound,” 157. See note, p. 173. Henchman, 63. “ This officer is a sort of secretary, and is to be ready, upon all occasions, to ven¬ ture his life in defence of his master; and at drinking-bouts he stands behind his seat, at his haunch, from whence his title, and watches the conversation, to see if any one offends his patron.” Hero’s Targe, 108. See note, p. 135. Herries, 155.. Highland chiefs, 57. See note,p. 70. Highland hospitality, 18, 23, see note, p. 33; “stranger is a holy name,” 132. Highland wrongs,Roderick’s speech on, 143. Host, 178 ; a camp. Hunter (the) outstrips his com¬ panions, 7; loses trace of the stag, and loses his horse, 8; re¬ flections on the scenery of Loch Katrine, 13 ; sounds his horn, 14 ; addresses Ellen, 17 ; appearance and character, 17 ; his dress, 19 ; guides Ellen’s skiff to the Isle, 20; startled at the fallen sword, 22 ; tells his name, 23 ; his dream, 27; haunted by the memory of the Douglasses, 28; leaves the island, 37. Hut (the), its structure and adorn¬ ment, 21. See note, p. 33. Hymn to the Virgin, 95. Hyndford, Sir John of, 165. Sir John Carmichael, founder of this, now extinct, earldom, distin¬ guished himself with Douglas at the Battle of Bauge. See note, p. 68. Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot, lx 4 - Imprecations against disloyal clans¬ men, 79, 80. Inch Cailliach, the cemetery of Clan Alpine, 77. See note, p. iox. Island (the), 20; “ Clan Alpine’s last and surest hold,” 46. John of Brent, 177; sings, 178; apologizes to Ellen, 181, 183; admits Allan to Roderick’s cell, 184. Katrine, 16. See Loch Katrine. Keir, “ ancient,” 156; the seat of the Stirling family. Kern, 119; a foot soldier. King’s (the) vindictive pride. See note, p. 70. King James, 106; his popularity, 158, see note, p. 206 ; his indif¬ ference to Douglas, 160, 161, see note, p. 174; orders his arrest, 164; his speech on popular ap¬ plause, 166; warned by Mar, 167 ; writes to stay Mar’s expedi¬ tion, 168 ; claims Fitz-James’s ring from Ellen, 202; gives her hand to Malcolm Graeme, 203. Ladies’ Rock (the), 161; whence the ladies viewed the games at the “ Burgh Sports.” Lady Alice, 115. Lament for Roderick Dhu, 195. Lanrick mead, the rendezvous of Clan-Alpine, 81. 214 INDEX . Larbert, lame Hugh of, i6o. Lay of the imprisoned huntsman, 197. Lendnck, 155 - , „ , _ . Lennox, anciently called Levenacti, was a territory of great extent. See Robertson’s Scotland, under her Early Kings, vol. _ ii. 372 (1862). It is now restricted to Dumbartonshire. See note, p. 70. Lewis of Tulhbardine, 181; apolo¬ gizes to Ellen, 182. Linn, 191, waterfall, derived from Gaelic Linn, “a pool.” Little John, 160; Robin Hood’s henchman. Loch Achray, 6. The name is ach reidh, pronounced “ auch rse,” and meaning “ plain field.” It is about two miles from Loch Kat¬ rine, and about the same distance from Vennachar—all three lakes being joined by the stream which carries their overflow into the Teith. “Alas, thou lovely lake !” 82 ; “ farewell to lovely Loch Achray,” 187. Loch-ard, 6; means the “upper lake,” evidently with reference to Lake of Menteith. It is about a mile west of Aberfoyle, and con¬ sists of two lakes connected by a stream of about 300 yards’ length. See Graham’s Sketches, p. 182. Loch-Con, 92 ; near Loch-Ard. Loch-Doine, “ deep lake,” 91. Loch Katrine, described, 12; by moonlight, 28 ; on a summer morning, 72 ; “ Loch Katrine’s gorge,” hi ; “ a whirlwind swept Loch Katrine’s breast,” 193. The derivation of Katrine is the sub¬ ject of a controversy, in which Scott’s side adopts Cateran, an Irish word not imported into Gaelic, so that if this be the derivation, its Gaelic name is un¬ known. Some Gaelic etymologists make Cath, “ battle,” the source ; by adding treun, “mighty,” we have “ the lake of the well-fought fight,” a more respectable origin certainly. We add Cco treun, or trian, strong, thick, or frequent mist, to the Celtic side. Catrine, in Ayrshire, was the seat of the celebrated Dugald Stewart. Loch Vennachar, 7. The name is said to mean “fair valley.” Adopting the meanings of the two roots : min, pronounced vean in the genitive, and machair, would make it “ smooth plain, or field.” It is about five miles long and one and a half broad, and is the first on the Trosachs’ route, ascending from Callander. “Ven- nachar’s broad wave,” 105 ; “ Vennachar in silver flows,” 140. Loch-Voil, 91; at top of Strath Ire. Lord Richard, 115. Lubnaig’s lake, 89 ; “ curved.” Lufra, Douglas’s hound, 162. Lurch, 178 ; to pilfer. Maid Marion, 160; Robin Hood’s mistress. Malcolm Graeme. See Graeme. Malise, Roderick’s henchman, 81, see Henchman; starts with the Fiery Cross, 81; describes the white bull, 107, see note, p. 134 ; tells Roderick of the enemy’s in¬ tentions, no. Mar, “ sable pale of,” 110 ; Earl of, 167 ; “ the dagger crest of,” 188. Margaret (Lady) welcomes the Hunter, 23; 24, 44; meets her son Roderick on landing, 50 ; 62. Maronnan’s cell. See note, p. 68. Maudlin, Blanche’s keeper, 125. Mavis, 114 ; the thrush. Meggat’s mead, 56. Mewed, 143; was caged, or cooped up. Menteith, “ the varied realms of fair,” 6. Allowing for a slight poetical exaggeration, this is a happy description of the beauti¬ ful lands that lie along the short course of the Teith. The name has puzzled Gaelic etymologists. See Graham’s Sketches, p. 64. Merle, 114; the blackbird. INDEX. 215 Minstrel (the). See Allan-Bane. The office of, 183. See note, p. 66. Misarray, 164; for disarray. Misproud, 164 ; perversely proud. Monan’s rill, 4. Moonlight, on Loch Katrine, 28. Moray, Lord, 24, 191; “ Moray’s silver star,” no, 188; cried, “ Behold yon isle !” 193. Morning, influences of, 35; on Loch Katrine, 72; in the city, 175. Morricers, 159 ; Morris-dancers. See note, p. 205. Murdoch (Red) charged to mislead the spy, no; guides Fitz-James, 123; threatens Blanche, 125 ; hits Blanche, and is killed by Fitz-James, 127. Mutch, 160; Robin Hood’s bailiff. Noontide hag, 76. Norman of Armandave, 87 ; takes the cross, 89 ; sings, 89 ; puts the rose in his bonnet, 105 ; describes the Taghairm, 108. Ochtertyre, 155. Omen, “ill-omened tear !” ixx. One blast upon his bugle horn were worth a thousand men, 191. Percy’s Norman pennon, 52. See note, p. 45. Pibroch, an adaptation of the Gaelic fiiobairachd, ‘ ‘ piping,” to define the musical composition, or tune. It is not so used in Gaelic. See note, p. 69; and “Pibroch of Donald Dhu,” Scott's Poetical Works. Pine (the). See Clan-Alpine, 47, 58. Placket, 178; petticoat. Popularity, 166; “fantastic as a woman’s mood,” 167. Popular rumours, 169. Portent of the falling sword, 22 See note, p. 68. Prophecy (the)', “Which spills the foremost foeman’s life,” 109. Prorc, 185 ; ship’s prow. Reck, 122, 184 ; care for. Rednock, 92. Reveille, drum or bugle warning to waken soldiers. River demon, 76 : water kelpy. Robin-Hood, 159. See note, p. 174. Roderick Dhu, characterized by Ellen, 42, 44 ; by Allan-Bane, 43; returns from an expedition, 50; holds a consultation, 53 ; his speech, 56 ; protests against Douglas quitting his protection, and proposes to Ellen, 58; his distraction on being refused, 60 ; threatens Malcolm Graeme, 61 ; taunts him for his loyalty, 62; prepares for war, 72 ; gives the cross and the muster place to Malise, 81; receives his scouts’ reports, 91 ; listens to Ellen sing¬ ing to the harp, 95; “it is the last time—’tis the last—he mut¬ tered thrice,” 96 ; orders the non- combatant to the Island, 107; thanks Brian for the prophecy, 110; resolves to give battle in “ the Trosachs’ shaggy glen,” 111; entertains Fitz-James un¬ awares, 132; guides him, 140; questions him as to the war, 142; “ what recked the chieftain if he stood,” “he rights such wrong where it is given,” 143 : speech on the wrongs of the Gael, 143; “he whistled shrill,” 145; “Saxon, I am Roderick Dhu !” 146; “ I pledged my word as far as Coilantogle ford,” 148 ; “ now man to man and steel to steel,” 149 ; is worsted in the fight, 153 ; compared to a stranded ship, 183 ; questions Allan, 186 ; commands him to play Clan-Alpine’s victory over Dermid’s, 187, see note, p. 206; his death and lament, 195. Satyrs, 93. See note, p. 103. Scathlock and Scarlet, characters in “Robin Hood,” 159. Second sight, 19. See note, p. 31. Shred, 128; cut. Silver strand, 14. Slogan, war cry, 49. Snood, 16, 73. See note, p. 100. 2 l6 INDEX. Song, Soldier rest, 25. _ Not faster yonder rowers, 35- - Hail to the chief, 49. -- The heath this night, 89. - They bid me sleep, 124. - The toils are pitched, 126. - Our vicar still preaches, 178. -My hawk is tired, 197. Sooth, true, 113. St. Bride, the chapel of, 87. St. Dunstan. See note, p. 67. St. Fillan’s spring, 3 ; a well dedi¬ cated to the saint at the village that bears his name, at Loch Earn. It is supposed to have supernatural healing properties. St. Hubert’s dogs. See note, p. 30. St. Modan’sharp,39. See note,p.66. Stag (the) “antlered monarch of the waste,” 4 ; close set upon by the hounds, 7 ; eludes them in the Trosachs’ pass, 7; “stag of ten,” 126, with ten branches on its an tiers. Stirling Castle’s porch, 58; towers, 106; gate, 120; “till Stirling’s turrets melt in sky,” 140 “ bul¬ wark of the North, grey Stirling,” 156; “ye towers, within whose circuit dread,” 157; vaults of,184 ; “ Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims,” 201 (see note, p. 207); “ Franciscan steeple,” 158. Stone throwing, the match of, 161. Strath-Gartney, 91. Strath-Ire, 86. Streight, strait, dilemma, 57. Strook, for struck, 78. Stumah, “trusty,” Duncan’s dog,84. Taghairm, the, 107. Taghairm means an echo ; tarbh, a bull; and targair , to foretell. Either source will suit the meaning. Teith (the river), 7. It is formed by the junction of several streams about Callander, and falls into the Forth above Stirling. See Menteith. “WhereTeith’syoung waters roll,” 86, 140; “from Ven- nachar in silver breaks,” 149; “ swift Teith,” 155. Teviot (the silver), 56. Thy hand is on a lion’s mam, 43. Tinchel, from timchioll, “ round about,” 190; a battue, a circle of sportsmen gradually narrowing upon the game, deer-stalking. Tine-man, from tined, “ lost.” See note, p. 68. Tombea’s Mary, 87. Tossing the bar, the match of, 161. Trosachs, the pass of, described, 9 ; flowers and trees of, 10 ; “ shaggy glen,” in; “all in the Trosachs’ glen was still,” 122 ; “ Trosachs’ rugged jaws,” 189 ; compared to a whirlpool, 191 ; dread defile, 192. Tullibardine, Lewis of, 181. Tweed, banks of, 56. Uam Yar, 5, 6. See note, p. 30. Upsees out, J78 ; a drinking phrase borrowed from the Dutch. Urgan, a dwarf, 116. Vaward, 189 ; vanguard. Vair, 115 ; fur of bell-shaped pieces of different colours. Weird women we, 24; predicting. Whinyard, 8 ; a dagger. Witch-elm, 3; the hazel. Wold, ti6, 130; land free of wood Wonned, 116; dwelt. Wot, 24 ; knows. Wrestling match, 160. Yarrow braes, 56. MUIR AND PATERSON, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.