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SCOTT AND HIS PERIOD
A THOROUGH knowledge of a poet involves, to some exf^nt
a knowledge of his contemporary poets, for in literature, as in
other matters, certain characteristics are found to be popular in
each age, and thus by their prevalence to become the leading
feature of the period. These peculiarities are generally the
result of known causes.-the influence of a foreign literature,
the stimulating effect of some great domestic event, even the
no.';r''M.''"'u ^'"^' "''"' ^"^' ^"^"y- '^' very nature of
poetry and thought. A glance at English literature will show
us that It naturally resolves itself into several great periods or
clusters of poets having well-marked peculiarities and following
each other in natural sequence. Practically beginning with the
birth of the English nation proper, and modelled after the early
French and Italian literatures, our literature has passed through
several natural phases, alternately creative and critical. When
some great national event stirs the passions of men and agitates
the nation to its very centre, we may expect the intellectual
activities also to be quickened, and hence immediately follow
mg, or associated with such event, there will be a great pro-
ductiye period in the literary life of .he nation. Some corre-
sponding period in a foreign literature gives it tone, and the
Whole hterature of the nation clusters around a few great men
111 the impulse IS gradually expended, and writers, no longer
wkhThe "'f "'^ '^^"^' '^^"^ '' ^^«--*« -t and crflicism
With their productions, and content themselves with a strict ad-
I
!
SCOTT AND HIS PERIOD.
fi
hence poetry lanSe/Ir^- , "'"" "' '°°" "■""«> ™<'
'Jt the different phases through which our Uf.r . u
The period of Chaucer was not followed by a critical age in
passed through .1 ^^'^^^^^^an period was exhausted it
passea through the usua critical stqp-^ h„f ^, • . .
circumstances this critical oe W1 ^"^ '° "^^"^^^
f«.,* • ^""cai period became a very oromin^nf
XIV ™ taS" ^: "' ^™^'' '"=^''"^' "'^' °f Louis
period las fnf fr /^ '' °'" ^"'' '^" "^ " ''="«■' transitional
1 r Iced Irrtv ^, "™ '° '^""■P'"'' """"S ""'ch little ™s
ir. duced worthy a place in literature. The baleful effort „f
fh^hr" "rV""""'"^"" '° '"""■■'' '-» att a S: :
thought and feehng, was clearly shown. French art Ja f
mality and classical purity were everywhere Ar/,
was a, nd,„,,,„. „o crLive e„::^;r:he ^Tu^Z;
watting for a new creative impulse which soon cam/ «„
premonitory symptoms of the' coming chan; ^ ^e seen ta
S tl: It """"T'*'' """=' '^'■°™->'^ Sea on e,c
tat the harbingers of the »a/W school were Cowpern his
Z\ T^"'r, " •■" =°"8'- These were quite divorcedfrom
the old school i both were natural, spontaneous and sincere „o
artificia sentiment or form in either. The htlman ^mpa.hie:
(he rough, vigorous line and love of nature in Cowper, put hem
SCOTT AND HIS PERIOD. 3
in concord with nature. Soon follow the poets of the early
years of the present century— a galaxy only equalled by those
of the beginning of the seventeenth.
This great period of poetry was caused by many combined
forces acting on the social world at .he close of the last century,
some of which were the following :—
1st. The natural weariness following the excess of artistic
productions. People became tired of the artificial form and
lorced sentiment of these foreign imitations and turned to the
early native poetry.
2d. The awakened interest in this old poetry in its various
forms tended greatly towards the formation of a more healthy
and vigorous poetical taste. The first outburst of a poetical age
IS likely to be lyrical ; in this respect the present period re-
sembles the Elizabethan in its love of the metrical romances of
chivalry and the simple narrative ballads. This fancy for early
poetry is well marked by the literary forgeries to which it gave
occasion, viz. .— Macpherson's "Poems of Ossian" (1760)
Chatterton's « Rowlev Poems, etc.," Ireland's forgeries of
Shakespeare, and by (he publication and imitation of many eld
poets, especially Shakespeare and Spenser. But, perhaps, the
most significant, and certainly the most influential work of that
nature was Bishop Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry
(1765). Ballad poetry has at all ages had a firm hold on the
imagination of the people ; at times, indeed, a song has been
sufiicient to rouse a nation to mighty deeds,-witness the
Welsh bards, the Swiss J^auz des Vaches, Wharton's Lillikil.
Icro, and the Marseillaise. But in this period it had a great in-
fluence on poetic taste, it gave the first impulse to the genius
of Scott, who was passionately fond of it, and collected his
Mimtrelsycf the Scottish Border in imitation of the Reliques •
indeed, it may be traced in most poets of the period. Words-
worth says :-'• I do not think that there is an able writer in
verse of the present day who would not be proud to acknowl-
edge his obligations to the Reliques; I know that it is so with
my fnends ; for myself, I am happy to make a public avowal of
my own." Another book that marks this anti(^uarian jpirit '?
in:
4 SCOTT AND HIS PERIOD.
Thos. Warton's History of English Poetry. This pecuHarltv o#
3d- The influence of German literature began to be felt
reproduce, I pecirat^t.^ ";„,'r::.:„f • f 'T' '"■ ""^
This foreign mAu-^nce i, entirely dTf!renflher '""^r'-
c«e the characteristics of thrfte , li en " ":« , '" "'''
produced in a modified form. The tUt rn ',"" "•
Chaucer. Shakespeare. Spensei^anl . ^'l^hf;;"''/:^ a"
-d .he strict adherence^;,:; '^^CjT't:^:;
analysis, and these .^..J'w Z;" .1: ^^rr^r-""
Hen.M^ac.enJs"r^:,-^^^^^^^^^^
resit o?'' '^'' "■" "" S"='-" P"<="<^--" "Ses, was the immediate
England was powerfullv affertprl h,r fi,^ .• restraint.
license, then some g^avethm'L^h^^^^^^^^ *° ,*^^ "^'"^"^^ «f
^ mem up m despair, while others con-
SCOTT AND HIS PERIOD. ^
tinued to dream of liberty and reformation. Scott never sym-
pathized with these poets of liberty; the whole struggle only
confirmed him in his determined opposition to the demands of
the "rabble." These, then, were the forces at work to pre
duce this remarkable activity in the literary world of England
and we can now point out the leading peculiarities of the
period.
1st. We have the love of nature gradually increasing till in
Wordsworth it became a vital principle. Now, for the first
time, we have natural scenery introduced for esthetic effect,
and the art of description fully developed. A more healthy sen-
tmient permeated the poems of this age. Those great passions
and impulses that concern so intimately mankind in general,
and not merely a section, formed Uie theme of poetrv ; hence the
poor and lowly were, at first apologetically, but finally boldly,
taken as the subject of the finest poems.
2d. The language became less refined. As in the Elizabethan
age, more stress was laid on the substance than on the outward
form; the poets of both ages excel more in originality of
genius than in perfection of execution. Much of this originated
m this period from the reaction against the cold elaboration of
the critical age, and in the irregularity of the ballads and
romances. Many of the poets aimed at a studied simplicity of
style and sentiment and a rugged versification.
3d. The popularity of old writers cominued to some ex-
tent. It was shown chiefly by Byron's imitation of Spenser in
the first canto of CMlde Harold, and by Scott in his metrical
romances and the antiquarian lore so prof aeely employed in his
4th. It was perhaps in imitatio-n of the old romances of chiv-
airy and their offshoot, the narrative ballad, that Scott adopted a
r.T?-rK "" " ^^' ^'"'"^^ ' ^"^ ^° successfully did he employ
It that It became the most popular and prevailing form of poem!
and, indeed, continues to this day to be the only kind favourabW
received by the public. From narrative in verse it was an easy
ransition to the prose narrative of the romance and the novel
into which Scott glided. The novel is less ambitious and less
artificial 5 but it is simply an inferior sort of poem, and requires
6
SCOTT AND HIS PERIOD.
fto„.p„c.ry,o prose was .as/and '„;tul '"" ^ '™""""
two most popular and characteristic species of litlarvT
sition of our time. literary compo-
Having given above the causes and peculiaritie, „f ,i
P",„d. a few words about the chief writers^e , c arv We
".e iove 'of na^Te'f ' L,^" afd t 'T '"*"« ^"^"•'■"•
He was abiy aided b, Cra"be l E^ : ^ 'tZ^ZTT"!
Kegi^ter, Tales of a Hall etc) .nrl I t/ ^"^S'^^'^fsA
or rejected the revolutionary ideas ^ ac.opted
waf :-:,;rwr :-f ciss:' -t^:':^-^^' ^'^•'
ra.M-ebutchoseforeig„a„dfa„dfulfu c,; Hea,firsu!",'H
.he revolution, but abandoned it after rLt'cest '^t'''"'
ever iH H ' ' *° «'"'"' P""!"! geniuses tha
ev^r hved. H,s poetry is grand and metaphysical.-a poe^^f
William Wordsworth is the creat renfr.i «
.-.period He had the deep iove for a. e " d Irwidt
.ympathy for man in the highest degree. He purposely adoped
a plamness of sentiment and of expression that often laWW
SCOTT AKJ HIS PERIOD. j
Sir Walter Scott.-A poet of order. The mighty events
transpirmg around him could not command an encour,gi„g
smile from his conservative mind. His work in the period was
perfectmg the narrative poem and the historical romance. He
lived entirely in the past, and thus exhausted the antiquarian
spirit of this age. His vivid natural descriptions and his strong
nationality make him very popular with his countrymen.
Thomas Campbell (Pleasures of Hope, Gertrude of Wy0'
ming. Songs, etc. ) belongs partly to the old and partly to the new.
Samuel Rogers {Pleasures of Memory) is an isolated poet
of the previous age.
Thomas Moore {Songs,afi(/ Lalla Rookh) is scarcely a natu-
ral poet. He resembles the previous age in his flash and glitter.
Lord Byron resembies the past in his ''English Bardt
and Scotch Reviewers;' and the opening canto of Childe
ffarold; but his other poems belong to the new school, and in
Cain and Don Juan he flies into open revolt against all con-
ventional morality, religion and politics.
Percy Bysshe Shelley {Queen Mab, Alastor, Prometheus
Unbound, etc.) had poetical genius of a high order. He
sought a state of purity, and wrote in a spirit of revolt from all
hat was established.
John Keats {Endymion, Hyperion) marks the close of the
great impulse. Its energy was spent, and Keats had to go to
Greek literature for inspiration.
The above sketch does not presume to give more than a few
facts to direct the student in his study of this important period.
For further information he is referred to any of the more acces^
e of St. John, etc.
Maturer Poems.— 77/^ Lay of the Last Minstrel appeared in
1805, when Scott was thirty-four years old- It grew out of a
request of Lady Dalkeith to write a poem on the legend of the
goblin page, Gilpin Horner ; this Scott attempted to do, in-
lending the poem to be included in the Border Minstrelsy, but
it grew too long for that, and became so uncouth and irregular
that the whole was put into the mouth of an aged harper.
Scott says thg introduction of the harper was to avoid the im-
putation of " setting up a new school of poetry," instead of
imitating an old school ; but it has been suggested that the
harper may have typified himself in his devotion to the lady of
his " chief," as he always called the head of the house of Scott.
It became very popular ; its rugged beauty and romantic sen.-
timent were something unusual. The old harper is generally
admired.
In 1808 appeared Marmion, a Tale of Flodden Field, his
greatest poem. It is superior to the Lay by having a complete,
well told story, instead of a confused legend : but in a poem we
do not derive our chief interest from the story ; the narrative
should be subordinate to the thought and that insight into the
deeper side of life and manners, in expressing which poetry has
so great an advantage over prose ; this is wherein Marmion
excels the others. Its descriptions of war and of nature are
Justly celebrated.
Next in order comes the Lady of the Lake (1810), his most
popular poem, but probably containing less poetry of a high
nature tlian Marmion.
The Vision of Don Roderick (1811) was intended by the
author to celebrate the achievements of Wellington in Spain.
It is generally considered a failure.
I
11
^1
to
SCOTT AND HIS PERIOD.
poems, .hat the taerrollH^^^T"' ''■='''='''■-=
that of m.„.,o« unor ,h?^ ^ '""^' '^'"'=">' "" *= «y'= i
'hought ; thev all seem ^!^ f n ' ""'' Probably an after-
and to be S from hint? ; "' °" '"^ "^'""' ™"-«.
antiquarian strdTes ""' '"««""°"' g'"-" - hi^
-?'at;"^ftf ^r -f W^^^^^^^^ Of A,,™. r.or
ra\;n irr'aurt'"^ ~'^^'av::: tf
b.tra^;ferre;re:ero?s „^jsrr;nrr
Hill, 13:5^. It .„ . • ,, „ , , . , " ""'' H02, to Hahdon
jjj- xt was not intended for the stan-p h.,i- «< *^ -n .
military antiquities." ^ ' *° illustrate
n.a?:h"r:a";:;^;/°7'"^"; "=■= '^°" an.out.of..door,
poems or th ouTh ht fien/rt ' ''"°"' "">" "'^S'' "-
tain farm" at AbbolrH V ^f ^'^" ^""^ht a "moun-
ruin
inve
Mr. r,ockhart admits that before fb. .-,.
^tcd ^29,000 in the purchase of land alone
nsii Caiiic nc had
Anot
:her wild
iV
\
*^
N'
^SCOTT AND HIS I lOD.
ii
speculation Ti^his partnership with the Ballantynes, to estab-
lish a large publishing house. But neither the Ballantynes nor
Scott had the judgment for such an undertaking ; the new firm
incurred many unnecessary expenses, published all sorts of
books which did not sell, and the result was failure and mutual
recriminations.
Scott's greatest fame rests on his novels, generally known as
the Waverley Novels. These were produced with marvellous
rapidity; from Waverley (1814) to Woodstock (1826), aperiod
of twelve years, he published nineteen novels, a feat unequalled
since the #ys of Shakespeare. A discussion of the merits of
these novels would be interesting, but would be foreign to the
object of these notes.
When the great crash came he found himself saddled with a
debt of ;^i 17,000, and set himself resolutely to work to 7(;riig it
off. On the 17th Jan., 1826, the announcement was made, and
on the 19th he resumed the composition of Woodstock, and com-
pleted " about twenty printed pages." Adversity to him was
"atonic and bracer," but part of this dogged resolution was
the result of pride, for the heaviest blow was the blow to his
great pride. Through at life he only valued his literary pro-
ductions because they brought him the means of building up,
not a reputation, but a family mansion ; he aimed at founding
a family, a new house of Scotts. He was the possessor, and
wanted to be thought so, of many of those heroic qualities of
chivalry he knew so well how to describe ; he wished to be un
preux chevalier sans peur et satis tache, and this will probably
account for his dread of pity, which so often showed itself in
his life. "Se this as it may, he struggled on, and by January,
1828, he had earned for his creditors nearly ^^40,000, and would
have paid the whole debt off if his health had continued. His
Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, the work of two years, sold for
^18,000. His last works were Castle Dangerous and Count
Robert of Paris, and an unpublished novel written at Naples,
The Siege of Malta. A year's absence in Italy failed to restore
his health, and returning home he died at Abbotsford, Sept. 21,
1832.
li
III
CRITICISM.
cnSL'n^1X?l\lir„X1l LlTeThi W'"' '"•''" '"
repnnted. '* nature the following extracts are
(Attro)';""*'°" '' Lord Jeffrey's article in the ^.//«^.^, ;,,,,,,,
the'PS'i dS^S^yf oTS ♦'^^ ^''^--^ between
Crabl'^or'S, ^ a'r"e^ a?," \"o"ap1SSo^f Z' admSetbs7rvers as
in their subjectl, and have ,o cZern Sm , ° -^^T '^^° ^.^"f^ ^'"'« ^''^^rest
and sustained pathet c of C^mXif •" fi? ^"" ^'^ 'r^"'' '''^ ''=^""1. deep
ony and languor by those who nrf^frhrrlf'"''?/''^'/ ^" ^e mistaken for monot-
qufet reflection. T h^'L^t nom.bV .. f ^'^'d ^^ sensibility or impatient of
great variety and bA^liancv rSr th. ^ ^' ""•'^i^^^i^'^'y' ^ that which has
descriptions; and whxiuouchesteh.! ^''''"'^''^ ^'"sl^ i" its images and
so high as to transcend the comSh^ "" '"^'/ Pa^^'ons, without raising any
-.i4° long as to'xhau^fdierjl'tl^'e."" "' ''''"'''^ '"«'''^'^' ^ '^-"-e
we thiiS ve;;e'vtL''rt''rn^ T V^ ^^^ °"^ '"^'^'P^s for popularity.
genius, he KfoYt n af^aiS to aUil £sd[?f ?."^ °"^'"''^'''?' ^^ »^- °^"
diction and of sentiment whenev/rthl "*■ *''« comnionplaces, both of
sive; he has madrt^^'of harerUtlrea^v 'f 'h ^' ^'^"^'^"' °^ ""?»•«-
pressions. which have been accuStlH K .7 ''* characters, images antfex-
cessors. The great secret of h?.n'^*^i'^ ^/ "l^ '"°*' celebrated o1 his prede-
acteristic of hi! St^y apnear oP?"'^"'^'- ^^^^^^r, and the leading char-
merely b;%t°'oLtviofrr' nit ic'^e'P^ '^'l!^^ "7 ^"^'^^ »° !"»"«=«*
a story, and enlists the reader^sS^ sentiment, but takes the assistance of
Then iiis character a LTselecLToS.'^^^^^^^ *"' """'y^^ ^^ attention,
of poetrv: kings, wa. riors kiSts n.^^ll '"ost common drama4,s persona
sels, wizards, and tme lovL fl^n.Ti "V""""' """«»«•«>«, sec^*drd dam-
of the modern peasa u/^rke Crabbe n7r "^''^'''^^ '*^ *'^'"''?"^ '"'ojhe cottage
tic privacy, like Cimnhln .'^'^^'^oe or Cowper ; nor into the boson,of domes-
SoutheyorDamin S'nrrL''"'""^ "'""'■-^I?-^ "^ '^' imagi.iation.Tu^
T., .u " ^ ""=.iiiciiuon or tnose t
In the management of his uassion.:. p„.;
ursuea ihii srimi. tA,i.^.,u J -_■■.:"' "="■
\f~
ocott appears to iis io have
. "b^iiik-iil Ul Ills uaSSlOns. arr^m IVT- C__». -
«v
1 1
CRITICISM.
ire
i! :.■
S^S^i^^r^^;^^^ nowh^c .,iHv kindle, hi™
ha7Z l^^M^t^X^^T^^^liii '^ ^-»« -'--- that Mr. Sett
seems U. have been anx^iou o ,; '<, /t^i^e n„d '^oT/ "' "f "'^■'^' ^'y''^' "«
understood ; and, for this l.urpose;",. hive cuH ll h '■^•■■^''y.''»"4 "niversa'iy
sp.cuous expressions of the mc^t onuhr .^^^^^^^ "'" "';"*'« '"^'""S and con-
t/.en, ,„ sple.idid confusion v.itTh s'Z , erv . r' r'"' '" ':'''" ""erwoven
cation. Indifferent whether he coinT [ ''"'"'"1 """' "•'''-".^'"I'lr versif,.
freedom on his mcnu^ry a," fs ,Wi„a ionT*'' ''"^' l',?^'"^ ^^it'* '-'n»al
reliance on a never-failins abi" da,?c^ "' ^'^ ^''^ ^"''"y ^"'•W'T-cI, in full
1-iere is nothinj; in Mr. Scotr nf »iL -.
or of the terse and fine comio j t//^^^^^^^^^^^ ^"^^ -r'-^p^'", ^^y''^ «^ ^^i"^'".
and nielody <,f Lamphell, or eve of L fl"^ '■ ' ''^'"'^ elaborate elegance
Southcy. lUit there is a medLv of 1 ri?..!^ ^^"'*^ ^"'^ redundant d.ttion of
carelessly an.l loosely together-a dicti f ,1"''>'^" ""^ >'''r'"^' ^<'^'1«. -^"t
less richness of ShaLspeare! n„S tl e ,r^. '^''' ^"^'^^^'vely with the care-
old romances, the lH.melines'\Tvi Ig J ^ a k .n',''' ^""'T' ^i'":'''^'!')' «'f H'e
mental ghtter of the n,ost nmclern noetrv '^ W nnecdotes, and the senti-
ludicrous to those of the su llim "JaKn,' 'l •*^' ^"'"' """' ^'''^^'^ o^ f'e
tmies artificial and frequeiuine^H ' but a L'T.'"^ T^ energetic-some-
and never expressing a sentiment which it ca?,??c'^ f."" "^ 'f""' •'">^ ^iy^chy,
any exertion to con)prehen« "" *^"^' ^he most ordinary readw
without a rival, either among mode ^oranci^^^^ ^*°""'^^ 1"'" ^" ^' '"''"'"^t
process of his descriptions are arei"raorcHna v n^^H ' ' '""^ ^'^'^ character and
He places before the eves of hirreS a n or J^f r'^'J ''^'''■'' '" astonishinr.
perhaps, than any other artist evSTresen.I^ l''^'"'^' '''"^ ^""'P'^^^^ ^^^
does not (like Ciabbe) enumerate In tl^^-M^ ^^ ""^".^ ^'^''^^ ; and yet he
degree of minuteness oor co2e imseTrbl'^ ■■*' °* '^' '''^^'''' ^^''h any
The su,Rular merit of his deHne.ation" on ,»,/. ^ '"^'*"'' ^° ^''''" '« visible.
with a few bold and abrupt strokes h; finS.l"'"''^' *=°"'''f'' '" ''''«' *'''».
then instantly kindles it by the suddon ifj V ''!i''* T""^ ¥'>t«d outline, and
t.on. There are none oVhis fine 1 cH ti ""'""'"."^ ^""""^ "'<•"' ^f^^^-
denve a great part of their clearness and n r\ ' '''""'•'^"K'y. which do not
interest, from the quantity of Sacter and 7"'^'" effect, as well as their
blended with their details. ' ''"'^'^'^'^t^'^ '^''d moral expression which is thus
^r^'^^^IZ^lJ"^!:::^^^^^^ poetry is the air of free-
characters, and with which no nil '° ""';'"'^ '" '""«' "^ I'is distinguished
tured to ^ep,•esent;tt;::!^g:;Ts:U'dSnTtf " '"" Shakespeare l^as't'
i^^^^'^:-l^lif^^^^^ in itsversifica.
a larger variety of charaSrs^ore^ar iraTd^^'v '' ' f "'' "P"" ^'^« ^^olet
IS nothing so fine, perhaps, as the 'Y"" 7-^"^ Ji'diciously contrasted. There
some of the scattered ske'tches the "Lav ''^TT:^' °'' ?° P'-^turesque a'
spirit in the whole piece which rir,». 1, * y , ' ''"' ^'^^re is a richness and a
fusion of incident and a sh fting brilHL'nr''?'^^ '''^'•- "^ *'>«^« Poen s^^a p?c^
Witchery of Ariosto. "'"^ brilliancy of colouring that reminds us X^
^^E^^^^-^-^-jJi-S ^^-^y c-Hed on. It ha.
V „t vhc discovery ; but wc must say fo"-.' MrVscotMM
CRITICISM.
«r
his secret is very discreetly kept, and most £elicitou«Iv rAv.»i-J t» -.
p...er .,rt„. „, his rS^Mr Sc„,Sn,° ,S,"S^^^^^ ■" "■«
of iiuk iiK h-m more iiileresri..,. ih-T.riV;™ i " ""? '""^ common error
mere deforn,i,y "l.uning thrimere^t ^f' '^^ *. ^•''i'"" »»d
b„l!a,fdn",TyXrTcter of "[^ind i'^' ^°"'^-»'" ^U^^rman poetry, but his ro-
the innate dis L fon ^f h ^ ^d lo liveri,^^ .' ''^^ nationalism, with
saved hin, from tl e nueri ties or t L . . ^ ''*''"' ''?"'''' "'"' '" ^^^ fufure,
of German writers Vlded others HavfJ.'^f ""J T' '"''"^'^ "'^ .'""'^'i^"
channed him in his foreign vouVites^^^^ ""k ?fT ''"^''^'^^ ">^t
gave hin,.elf up exclusiverto th^more co i^^H'! ''" ^^^}^^ ^T7' ^^ s«°»
minstrelsy. His poems i,^ all H„i J^^ congenial inspiration of that native
finer thaif any thaTha^Tlll'f:,^^ &, wnttr "'wh.f .11 Zt^'' ^"S'"«""«^J
carelessness, that element of lif^ ; nil "l- i • , '"^"^ irregularity and
feeling and earnest Sfc-f tie wrLf ^r''t'>ig winch comes of the excited
blended. l5ut inost of thl noetrJ t^ ^. i'''',* V''"" ^'"^^'^ '^" ^"alities are
modern times Imd Jr ived a'^X.^li '"' K ^T T''"''^''^- ''"°"g "« i"
gratification. The Lay of the Lis M,^,^^^^^^^^^ '^•"'■'.' '•'^^'"^'veK-, a critical
with a long and daWate noem wh,l •'V'?'""^ '''''^^'^ "^ •'>" degrees
ment cl hea,t as we 11 \s ^f'.dTl '"''■'*''' then, onward with an excite-
doubt, did nu ch, o p, oduce this ei,p/''^ narratne form of the poems, no
interest and exc temen f . nLl^ , V'^'n'"^' S" '^'Z^'-'" ^•'«''«"t poetrv, the
verse, and the ^'^tic \r ow ^UU '. " 'l'/ ''^ '"'''-'',"" ^^^'^ ^'=^^' ^^e cha.m o the
SoXT a:d'so„i^l!rhe?Tr!;'e?s T^'^l'^^'^' Wordsworth, Coleridge,
poetry the ruge Tiid w ith hi!^ ' i '^^ ^'^"" ^''^° ^""^^ >» bis day made
tion o^f the ;^.r{od Buf w Int'^K^^^H l'' ,'^«"""^"«? ^^e busy poetical produc-
poetryimpreLd hs S:L"ctWc^e;'unr^^^
jr icuecuve caaracter, and directed the current of a.l writing
Itf
CRITICISM.
t.K^k.ui. kniKh.iuHHi «.u hiv ' v; \ n^ H. lov.;
K«ovr. vv„l, .nui.,„e inanntrs anl i ^s „Vs t' , ''"l'''' ",'*' ^'"'f'- the
UeMi.,.t...Mso( nat.ual mcucia u lm , i ' "'.''"""^'lo' "Uls bcauiif,,!
fn>,n inoKination: ,t ('Irn^ deX^ri v'f mTi'':^'''','' ;""* »''"«'''i"K.«
more n>a hv hcinL. wv >.;.. i ."'*''"*•'" '^> ••>i>cv, and the alter nni!i< »l.«
t».o ,,a«e onSy :^iri H .r' fc"".;;';;! :"'""" ^'^-^'y ^-'^- Jot «:
•>..."K all his chanu-ters. S- u .ecuml uJv^r^l' I''''-^'''^ '»'"' ''•«^"^»-
gnni.u! he has n>aj-iui„ent Kr,.i ,i Ls of ,i '" L •^''."'re
«„(« eiuotio,,. IVevio.is skVtt Lv f ''•K- ."^'" 1'* 'J^^'t'OK Imman sentiment
.t.Uea anv broad
upo-nfr^SS;:;;- K*";;-;;.;--^ to his pnrpose = i. is ba,ed
ably adapted by us easy rtu^ U^^ZS^^ ;^^:::!]^^'^^^*^ -'=^ «J'»i-
of iJi ^z:::^^z e iop::s;::.^!: "'7^ ^"--^"' '-f ^•" .-».
had in common. PKP*een said of |' vro th u Vi 1 . i "* '^'"''^ " '"'t^''^ *vitl, not
IS nnqnestionabie. that tl,ev have ;,ei 1. 1, ''" T" '•'*"""^■t^s Vn verse. I
o.;KmK to the h,uhest kind o ut.Se ^it.y ''^^^^^ "^'' '■''^/''''"•y »>«"
Sc,.,t'so.^,iua!/;v:,;r'K:;:,:;;;!:^ 711;;;^;^^^ the regular epic:
success ..t his attempts at em h vinV he hiv ' ""' ''"''' ' '^ "traordi, arv
ms was n,ore natural th ,„ V, ,k1 ** «-hiv.,m.u:t u,d national idea, noth-
«*1! as by others";^' U^'USit^.^-;-!;^;;';- be applied by livront
kindofsentinients. "-"»^n<>n ot narratives fumuled on a different
*«JlU-^a:;vS,^ri,f*^!^>m^ remember that he was the
ance he sto.Hi ,n [he ^ve t ' h'e word '" nr ? = '*"•';' "'■^« -> ''- ^^^t ^ar.
nv>te of prv>;-aration h.id been Im.n JA "',''"^.'- '1""^' ■■ "accompanied. No
Mhen in .So, he b.ulle i,, o h^ Mi2\"'; m:; ^^' ''•""'T '^^"^ " '»i"«>trelsy, '
In these he appeale""'-'*^' "arratiws.
lee .ons : he ,.,i„,ed the exten air !'''l'^,'l\"!i^*''^ "
lections : he |Mi„,ed the ex m al's f ic^^. . "*i'' *'""^^b!inK historic recoj:
P«ctu.e«,neness ; l.o ei,,beM T..^i v. I *"^'^'V"7 a'.'<» ananne.^ with unrivalled
generous and b.-^vc i.Vlu^ ' u f " • '"I '"f^^^'t'O"'' enthusiasm all that Vw
out the antique in so , ,' , mil "'";-'""^>' • '"'^J be seldo.u forgot to d^S
Indeed, were
ative genius.
5 productiiins
suicccded in
-Ckaik.
his snbjert!*,
>• Ht« Idvtt
'<" o»iirt. the
Ills bcauiifdl
i>i> and tliar-
I Muuelimet
t?r nuule tJie
'••>r to UH on
iuul harmu-
, For Uick-
l>ich acquire
» iicntinient
re nvMlo in
orcilile and
"•0. anil as
r. by broatl
curious ex-
it is ba<«ed
kvas aduiii^
f all pi^ts
which they
itod narra-
risc out o|
h are open
d son>e of
t witli not
verse. It
iilarity he-
Scott are
liar epic:
aordinarv
lea, tioth-
Hvrun as
different
e was the
It appear-
>ed. No
strelsy,"
irratives.
ric r«*col-
i>riva!led
that was
to dress
>th iuteJi«
7'/i£ LADY OF THE LAKE.
CANTO FIRST.
PI ARP of the North ! that mouldering long hast hun?
^ * On the w.tch-elm that shades Saint Kii&n's SDrinf
And down the titful breeze thv numbers fluni ^ ^'
111! envious ivy did around thee clin?. "*'
Rlufflmg wuh verdant nnglet everv strinV-
O M.nstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleeo ?
S iirn ''"f . ''^''^' ''^"^^ ^^^""^^^•"^ murmuring ^
Mill must thy sweeter sounds thy silence keen
Nor b.d a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep?
Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon,
Whlfi! ^^' fT''^ T^^ ^'^"'''^ *^e *e«t'^l crowd,
^^ hen lay of ho^viless love, or glorv won
Aroused the fearful, or subdSed 'the proud
At each according pause, was heard alom?
h ne ardent symphony sublime and high '
t or Ml 1 the burdeft of thv minstrelsy fles^ pv*»
^^as Knighthood's dauntle'ss deed, arfd Beaut>l"maS:
O wake once more ! how rude soe'er the hand
1 hat ventures o'er thy magic maze to str^v •
tH
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [cakto i.
L
The staff at eve had drunk his fill,
Where danced the moon on Monan's rill
And deep his midnight lair had made '
Jn lone Glenartney's hazel shade ;
liut, when the sun his beacon red
Had kmdled on Benvoirlich's head.
The deep-mouthed bloodhound's heavy bav
Kesounded up the rocky way ^
And faint, from farther distance borne
Were heard the clanging hoof and horn.
IL
As Chief, who hears his warder call
To arms I the foemen storm the wall,*
Ihe antlered monarch of the waste
Sprifng from his heathery couch in haste. .
But, ere his fleet career he took,
The dew-drops from his flanks he shook;
Like crested leader proud and high:
^ ossed his beamed frontlet to the sky •
A moment gazed adown the dale, '
A moment snuffed the tainted gale
A moment listened to the cry
That thickened as the chase drew nigh :
Then, as the headmost foes appeared^
An'i c?^\'^''^^''""'^ ^^^ ^°P«e he clears
And, stretchmg forward free and far, ^
Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var.
in.
Yelled on the view the opening pack :
Kock, glen, and cavern paid them back:
1 o many a mingled sound at once
The awakened mountain gave response.
A hundred dogs baved deep and strong,
Clattered a hundred steeds along
Their peal the merry horns rung out.
A hundred voices joined the shSutr
With hark and whoop and wild halloo.
1^0 rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew.
CANTO I.]
THE CHASE.
Id
.0^
Far from the tumult fled the roe,
Close in her covert cowered the doe,
The falcon, from her cairn on high,
Cast on the rout^ a wondering eye
Till far beyond her piercihg ken
The hurricane had swept the glen
Faint, and iftore faint, its failing din
Returned from cavern, cliff, and linn,^
And silence settled, wide and still,
On the lone wood and mighty hill.
IV.
Less loud the sounds of silvan war
Disturbed the heights of Uam-Var
And roused the cavern, where, 'tis told.
A giant made his den of old ;
For ere that steep ascent was won.
High in his pathway hung the sun,
And many a gallant, staid perforce,
Was fam to breathe his faltering horse.
And of the trackers of the deer.
Scarce half the lessening pack was near;
bo shrewdly on the mountain side,
Had the bold burst their mettle tried.
V.
The noble stag was pausing now,
Upon the mountain's southern brow.
Where broad extended, far beneath.
The varied realms of fair Menteith.
With anxious eye he wandered o'er
Mountain and meadow, moss and moor
And pondered refuge from his toil.
By far Lochard or Aberfoyle.
But nearer was the copsewood gray.
That waved and wept on Loch Achray,
And mingled with the pine-trees blue
On the bold cliffs of Benvenue.
;,r^? J*^°'''" ^^^^ t^e hope returned,
With flymg foot the heath he spurned.
Held westward with unwearied race.
And left HpliinH fi,« »^ — *: - »
'*-t ^ 15 v t* c; s* Va*2
v^'UciaOt
io
THE LADY OF TITtr r \r-r- ^
"i lUE LAKE, [canto i.
VL
A^Zl'flf, '? "" I'ha. steeds gave o'er
When rose Be^Ted.^ 'Sf !„" t-P^-'
Who flagged upon Bocha^sUe"s hek.h
Thegalla„t;4f^;l™-»„h»«^o^hore,
fh:.Te"^h'e''d%\'^ltS'^tF'5'^.
And when the Bri^r „f n- ?"*'^''="'i
Theheadn,o'';t?Sf„\-^--n.
Alone, but with unbated zeal
whfceV^Lt-£"lr^^^^^^^^
Tk„ 1 1 V 6'**P Witli sobs he Hrpw
rt^ dts of IS I^^^'-h' f " ?vle..
SSSSS^^FUneh.
Thus upX™!^- ■'^fr/IJ^'-in.
Between the precipice and brake
O er stock and rock their race they take.
VIII.
Where th J i ^ '""s^ ^"^n to bav
Alread/'^o "f«i'-'2r ^'""' '"^--y.
Measure! hs^af.erswi?h'M'
For the death-wcrd and dei hTn '
Muateredhisbre.tS'wM^ya'rd'Sw
CANTO I.]
THE CHAS^.
it
But thundering as he came prepared,
With ready arm and weanon bared,
The wily quarry shunned ihe shock.
And turned him from the opposing rock ;
Then, dashing down a darksome glen,
Soon lost to hound and hunter's ken, •
In the deep Trosachs' wildest nook
His -solitary refuge took.
There, while close couched, the thicket shed
Cold dews and wild flowers on his head,
lie heard the baffled dogs in vain
Rave through the hollow pass amain,
Chiding the rocks that yelled again.
IX.
Close on the hounds the Hunter came.
To cheer them on the vanished game;
But, stumbling in the rugged dell,
The gallant horse exhausted fell.
The impatient rider strove In vain
To rouse him with the spur and rein.
For the good steed, his labours o'er.
Stretched his stiff limbs, to rise no more
Then, touched with pity and remorse,
He sorrowed o'er the expiring horse ;
'I little thought, when first thy rein
I slacked upon the banks of Seine,
That H^hland eagle e'er should feed
On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed !
Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day.
That costs thy life, my gallant gray I '
X.
Then through the dell his horn resounds.
From vain pursuit to call the hounds.
Back limped, with slow and crippled pace.
The sulky leaders of the chase ;
Close to their master's side they pressed,
With drooping tail and humbled crest :
But still the dingle's hollow throat
Prolonged the swelling bugle-note.
The owlets started from their dream,
iiic ciig;tvs auawctea With their scrcam.
22
!i ;v '
0^#
U'
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto I.
Round and round the sounds were cast,
1 iJl echo seemed an answering blast :
And on the hunter hied his way,
To join some comrades of the day ;
Yet often paused, so strange the road,
So wondrous were the scenes it shewed.
XL
The western waves of ebbing day
Rolled o'er the glen their level way;
Each purple peak, each flinty spire.
Was bathed in floods of living fire.
But not a setting beam could glow
Within the dark ravines below,
Where twined the path in shadow hid,
Round many a rocky pyramid,
Shooting abruptly from the dell
its thunder-splintered pinnacle ;
Round many an insulated mass,
The native bulwarks of the pass,
Huge as the tower which builders vain
Presumptuous piled on Slun^sj^lain.
1 he rocky summits, split and rent,
t ormed turret, dome, or battlement.
Or seemed fantastically set
With cupola or minaret,
Wild crests as pagod ever decked,
Or mosque of Eastern architect.
Nor were these earth-born castles bare.
Nor lacked they many a banner fair;
For, from their shivered brows disolayed
Far o'er the unfathomable glade, ^ *
All twinkling with the dew drops sheen
The brier-rose fell in streamers green '
And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes.
Waved m the west-wind's summer sighs.
XIL
Boon nature scattered, free and wild,
Each plant or flower, the mountain's child-
Here eglantine embalmed the air-
Hawtiibrn and hazel mingled there j
^
A
M
A^'-'i
A
M^^ Fo:
THE CHASE.
23
J^'
The primcQ&e pale and violet flower,
Found in each cliff a narrow bower ;
Foxglove and nightshade, side by side,
Emblems of punishment and pride,
Grouped their dark hues with every stain
The weather-beaten crags retain.
With boughs that quaked at every breath,
Gray birch and aspen wept beneath ;
Aloft, the ash and warrior oak
Cast anchor in the rifted rock ;
And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung
His shattered trunk, and frequent flung,
Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high
His boughs athwart the narrowed sky '
Highest of all, where white peaks glanced,
Where glistening streamers waved and danced.
The wanderer's eye could barely view
The summer heaven's delicious blue :
So wondrous wild,4lie whole might seem
The scenery of a fdiry dream.
xni.
Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep
A narrow inlet, still and deep.
Affording scarce such breadth of brim,
As served the wild duck's brood to swim.
Lost for a space, through thickets veerincr,
^ra S",^, b»*oader when again appearing,
'^^^ TalLrocks and tufted knolls their face
Could on the dark-blue mirror trace ;
And farther as the hunter strayed,
Still broader sweep its channels made.
The shaggy mounds no longer stood,
Emerging from entangled wood.
But, wave-encircled, seemed to float,
Like castle girdled with its moat ;
Yet broader floods extending still
Divide them from their parent hill,
Till each, retiring, claims to be
An islet in an inland sea.
XIV.
And now, to issue from the glen,
No pathway meets the wanderer's ken,
&>
-h
1\
H THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto I.
Unless he climb, with footing nice,
A far projecting precipice.
The broom's tough roots his ladder made
1 he hazel saplings lent their aid ;
And thus an airy point he w^ \,
Where, gleaming with the setting sun,
One burnished sheet of living gold,
Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolled,
In all her length far winding lay,
With promi)ntory, creek, and bay,
And islands that, empurpled bright.
P'loated amid the livelier light,
And mountains, that like giants stand,
1 o sentinel enchanted land.
High on the south, huge Benvenue
Down on the lake in masses threw
Crags, knolls, apd mounds, confusedly hurled.
1 he fragments of an earlier world :
A wildering forest feathered o'er
His ruined sides and summit hoar,
While on the north, through midclle air,
13en-an heaved high his forehead bare.
XV.
From the steep promontory gazed
The Stranger, raptured and amazed.
And, ♦ What a scene were here,' he cried
♦ For princely pomp, or churchman's pride I
Un this bold brow, a lordly tower ;
In that soft vale, a lady's bower ;
On yonder meadow, far away.
The turrets of a cloister gray.
How blithely might the bugle-horn
Chide, on the lake, the lingering morn,
How sweet, at eve, the lover's lute
Chime, when the groves were still and mutef
And, when the midnight moon should lave
Her forehead in the silver wave.
How solemn on the ear would come
The holy matins' distant hum,
While the deep peal's commanding tone
— .-_ — ... ^,,,,.;^, i.Tjv;i lune,
A sainted hermit from his Cell,
i
/
Jj
CANTO I.]
THE CHASE.
«s
Of
I"K
k
^^
iV i
To drop a bead with every knell—
And bugle, lute, and bell, and all,
Should each bewildered stranger call
I To friendly feast, and lighted hall.
XVI.
* Blithe v^sre it then to wander here\ ^UVf
But now,— be^filicew yon nimble deer,—
. Like that same h ermit 's, thin and spare,
The copse must give my evening fare ;
J Some mossy bank my couch m'ist be,
Some rustling oak my canopy.
Yet pass we that ; the war and chase
Give little choice of resting-place ;^
A summer night, in greenwood spent,
Were but to-morrow^s merriment :
But hosts may in these wilds abound,
Such as are better missed than found ;
J^ To meet with Highland plunderers here
Were worse than loss of steed or deer.—
I am alone ;— my bugle-strain
May call some straggler of the train ;
Or, fall the worst that may betide,
Ere now this falchion has been tried.'
XVII.
But scarce again his horn he wound,
When lo ! forth starting at the sound,
From underneath an aged oak,
That slanted from the islet rock,
A damsel guider of its way,
A little skiff shot to the bay,
That round the promontory steep
Led its deep line in graceful sweep.
Eddying, in almost viewless wave.
The weeping willow twig to lave.
And kiss, with whispering sound and slow,
1^^ , The beach of pebbles bright as snow.
V jii The boat had touched the silver strand
^' Ju§t as the Hunter left his stand.
And stood concealed amid the brake.
To view this Lady of the Lake.
4|tk>
26
I 1
.)f
.^.^
^THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto l.
The maiden paused, as if again
She thought to catch the distant strain.
With head up-raised, and look intent,
And eye and ear attentive bent,
And locks flung back, and h'ps apart,
Like monument of Grecian art,
In h'stening mood, she seemed to stand,
The guardian Naiad of the strand.
xvin.
And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace
A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace,
Of finer form, or lovelier face !
W]jat though the sun, with ardent frown,
Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown,--
1 he sportive toil, which, short and light.
Had dyed her^glowing hue so bright.
aC
.y^f<
^"^•^'U ^■^x^- o y^^ ner-giowing hue so brigh
^\ S^^ ^^' Served too in hastier swell to shew
W^^v 'iiV Short o-i;mr.coo ^f 4.U^ 1 j. .e
"^K.
VF
FfliMiH
11^
IliU
l.i|;
Short glimpses of the breast of snow
What though no rule of courtly grace
To measured mood had trained her pace —
A foot more light, a step more true, '
Neer from the heath-flower dashed the dew
E en the slight harebell raised its head,
tlastic from her airy tread :
What though upon her speech there hun^
The accents of the mountain tongue,— ^
Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear,
The list'ner held hio breath to hear
XIX.
A Chieftain's daughter seemed the maid ;
Her sat'*' snood, her silken plaid.
Her golden brooch such birth betrayed/ /
And seldom was a s nood amid fl %lj. '
Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid '/i-
Whose glossy black to shame might brine
The plumage of the raven's wing ;
And seldom o'er a breast so fair.
Mantled a plaid with modest care.
And never brooch thp fnMo ^r.rr.KL«j
Above a heart more good and kind.
i'rV
^^'
CANTO I.]
THE CHASE
27
Her kindness and her worth to spy,
You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ;
Not Katrine in her mirror blue,
Gives back the shaggy banks more true,
Than every free-born glance confessed
The gir 'ess movements of her breast;
Whethei joy danced in her dark eye,
Or woe or pity claimed a sigh,
Or filial love was glowing there.
Or meek devotion poured a prayer,
Or tale of injury called forth
The indignant spirit of the North.
One only passion unrevealed,
With maiden pride the maid concealed,
Yet not less purely felt the Hame ;—
O need I tell that passion's name !
XX.
Impatient of the silent horn,
Now on the gale her voice was borne :—
* Father! ' she cried ; the rocks around
Loved to prolong the gentle sound.
A while she paused, no answer came,— -
* Malcolm, was thine the blast ? ' the name
Less resolutely uttered fell.
The echoes could not catch the swell.
* A stranger I,' the Huntsman said,
Advancing from the hazel shade.
The maid, alarmed, with hasty oar.
Pushed her light shallop from the shore,
And when a space was gained between.
Closer she drew her bosom's screen ;
(So forth the startled ?wan would swin^-
So turn to prune his ruffled wing.) ^'
Then safe, though fluttered and amazed,
She paused, and on the Stranger gazed.
Not his the form, nor his the eye,
That youthful maidens wont to fly.
XXI.
On his bold visage middle age
Had slightly pressed its signet sage,
p'.
^
t8 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO I.
Yet had not quenched the open truth
And fiery vehemence of youth ;
Forwarcf and frolic glee was there,
The will to do, the soul to dare,
The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire,
Of hasty love, or headlong ire.
His limbs were cast in manly mould,
For hardy sjiorts or contest bold ;
And though in peaceful orarb arrayed.
And weaponless, except nis blade,
His stately mien as well implied
A high-born heart, a martial pride.
As if a Baron's crest he wore,
And sheathed in armour trod the shore.
Slighting the petty need he shewed.
He told of his benighted road ;
His ready speech flowed fair and free
In phrase of gr/-wlivi n*>arn
l-Or UOUgiaS SpUkc, anu iri.aix.^.-t:it • —
The flush of shame-faced joy to hide,
The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide 5
CANTO II.]
THE ISLAND.
s«
The loved caresses of the maid
The dogs with crouch and whimper paid }
And, at her whistle, on her hand
The falcon took his favourite stand,
Closed his dark wing, relaxed his eye,
Nor, though unhooded, sought to fly.
And, trust, while in such guise she stood,
Like fabled Goddess of the Wood,
That if a father's partial thought
O'erweighed her worth, and beauty aught.
Well might the lover's judgment fail
To balance with a juster scale ;
For with each secret glance he stole,
The fond enthusiast sent his soul.
XXV.
Of stature tall, and slender frame,
But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme.
The belted plaid and tartan hose
Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose ;
His flaxen hair, of sunny hue.
Curled closely round his bonnet blue.
Trained to the chase, his eagle eye
The ptarmigan in snow could spy :
Each pass, by mountain, lake, and heath,
He knew, through Lennox and Menteith.
Vain was the bound of dark-brown doe,
When Malcolm bent his sounding bow,
And scarce that doe, though winged with fear.
Outstripped in speed the mountainf:er;
Right up Ben Lomond could he press.
And not a sob his toil confess.
His form accorded with a mind
Lively and ardent, frank and kind ;
A blither heart, till Ellen came.
Did never love nor sorrow tame ;
It danced as lightsome in his breast.
As played the feather on his crest.
Yet friends, who nearest knew the youth,
T-Tis smrn nf ivrnnor hie ^eol (nr ft-ntK
— g^, », ,,., ,, .,i,,j
And bards, who saw his features bold.
When kindled by the tales of old.
$i TH£ LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto it.
Said, were that youth to manhood grown,
Not long should Roderick Dhu's renown
Be foremost voiced by mountain fame,
But quail to that of Malcolm Graeme.
I%i 4
S3'
.m M
XXVI.
Now back they wend their watery way.
And, ' O my sire ! ' did Ellen say,
* Why urge thy chase ^so far astray ?
And why so late returned ? And why*
The rest was in her speaking eye.
* My child, the chase I follow far,
'Tis mimicry of noble war ;
And with that gallant pastime reft.
Were all of Douglas 1 have left.
I met young Malcolm as I strayed
Far eastward, in Glenfinlas' shade.
Nor strayed I safe ; for, all around.
Hunters and horsemen scoured the ground
This youth, though still a royal ward.
Risked life and land to be my guard,
And through the passes of the wood
Guided my steps, not unpursued ;
A. id Roderick shall his welcome make,
Despite old spleen, for Douglas' sake.
Then must he seek Strath-Lndrickglen,
Nor peril aught for me agen.'
xxvn.
Sir Roderick, who to meet them came, '
Reddened at sight of Malcolm Graeme,
Yet, not in action, word, or eye.
Failed aught in hospitality.
In talk and sport they whiled away
The morning of that summer day ;
But at high noon a courier light
Held secret parley with the knight,
Whose moody aspect soon declared,
That evil were the news he heard.
T^;<>^M it.^.
ixsvuirtii
3€c:s:cu tulMug la his head
Yet "was the evening banquet made,
ONTO
II.]
THE ISLAND.
53
ii/i
m
Ere he assenibled round the flame,
An^ rn '^'■' Douglas, and the Gr^^me,
And Ellen too ; then cast around
H.s eyes then fixed them on the ground.
As studymg phrase that might avail ^
liest to convey unpleasant tale.
rZl ''"•'' i'f .^l^ffer's hilt he played,
Then raised h,s haughty brow an/ said:
XXVIII.
^Short be my speech ; nor time affords.
Kmsman and father-if such name
Dou-las vouchsafe to Roderick's claim-
Mme honoured mother: Ellen-why '
M3' cousm, turn away thine eye ?—
And Gramme ; in whom I hope to know
Fiill soon a noble friend or U,
When age shall give thee thy command
And leadms: in thy native land- '
Wtl , ^ ^'"^''' ^'""dictive pride
boasts to have tamed the liorder-side
Where chiefs, with hound and hawk who came
To share the r monarch's silvan g^meT '
Themselves in bloody toils were snared •
And : rtf' • Y'^r ^^^7 prepared, '
And wide their loyal portals flung,
p er their own gateway struggling huntr
Loud cries their blood 'from Meglat's mead '^
Wh'" \f '?' ^''^^^^ ^"d banks ot'Tweed ' ^
Where the lone streams of Ettrick irlide
AndfromthesilverTeviot'sside;^ V/ ' / .f
ihe dales, where martial clans did ride ^^''^"-^ ^4^4
Are now one sheep-walk, waste and wide
So f 'IT^ "^ *5^ Scottish throne, '
So faithless, and so ruthless known.
Now hither comes ; his end the same,
T^ie same pretext of silvan game. '
K.f ^'1,^°!; Highland cKiefs, judge ye
By fate of Border chivalry. "t.^ >e»
ICC more; amid Glenfinla's green,
Douglas, thy stately form was seen.
?r
"J,
'■1 !,ii
54 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [canto 11.
This by espial sure I know ;
Your counsel in the streight I shew.
XXIX.
Ellen and Margaret fearfully
Sought comfort in each other's eye,
Then turned their ghastly look, each one^
This to her sire, that to her son.
The hasty colour went and came
In the bold cheek of Malcom Graeme ;
But from his glance it well appeared, ji- •
*Twas but for Ellen that he feared> ; .x]t
While, sorrowful, but undismayed, \,\
The Douglas thus his counsel said :
* Brave Roderick, though the tempest raar,
It may but thunder and pass o'er ;
Nor will I here remain an hour,
To draw the lightning on thy bower ;
For well thou know'st, at this gray head
The royal bolt were fiercest sped.
For thee, who, at thy king's command,
Canst aid him with a gallant band,
Submission, homage, humbled pride.
Shall turn the Monarch's wrath aside.
Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart,
Ellen and I will seek, apart,
The refuge of some forest cell,
There, like the hunted quarry, dwell,
Till on the mountain and the moor.
The stern pursuit be passed and o'er.'—'
XXX.
* No, by mine honour,' Roderick said,
*So help me, Heaven, and my good blade 1
No, never I Blasted be yon Pine,
My father's ancient crest and mine,
If from its shade in danger part \
The lineage of the Bleeding Heart !
HAOr rv\\T Kllinf or^oo/^K • r^f^ryi- r^a.
To wife, thy counsel to mine aid ;
*v.;
iA
CAN*0 II.]
THE ISLAND.
To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu,
Will friends and allies flock enow :
wm w'^aI''^ ''°"^*' ^'■^^'■"st, and grief,
Will bind, o us each Western Chiff. *
A^ hen the loud pipes my bridal tell,
The links of Forth shalf hear the kAell,
The guards shall start in Stiriing's porch •
And, when I ight the nuptial tofch; '
A thousand villages in flames,
XT ^"I'u *^^, slumbers of King James '
--Nay, Ellen, blench not thus alay
And, mother, ceas *hese signs, I pray
I meant not all my Heart mi|ht say -
Small need of inroad, or of fight,
When the sage Douglas may unite
Each mountain clan in friendly band,
'?M,?u^''? ^,^^ P^'^^^ °^ tJieir lind,
Q i t u °l'^^ ^'"^' ^'■^"^ pathless glen.
Shall bootless turn him home agent'
XXXI.
There are who have, at midnight hour.
In slumber scaled a dizzy tower,
And, on the verge that beetled o'er
The ocean tide's incessant roar.
Dreamed calmly out their dangerous dream,
T 1 wakened by the morning Beam ;
When, dazzled by the eastern glow
Such startler cast his glance below
And saw unmeasured depth around
And heard unintermitted sound '
And thought the battled fence so frail
It waved like cobweb in the gale •
Amid his senses' giddy wheel, '
Did he not desperate impulse feel,
Headlono to plunge himself below,
And meet the worst his fears foreshew.?—
1 hus, Ellen, dizzy and astound,
As sudden ruin yawned around,
By crossing terrors wildly tossed,
Still for the Douglas fearing most,
$t
56
THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [cANTb it
}' -i
XXXIL
Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy
In Ellen's quivering lip and eye,
And eager rose to speak — but ere
His tongue could hurry forth his fear,
Had Douglas marked the hectic strife,
Where death seemed combating with life;
For to her cheek, in feverish flood.
One instant rushed the throbbing blood,
Then ebbing back, with sudden sway,
Left its domain as wan as clay.
* Roderick, enough ! enough ! ' he cried;
* My daughter cannot be thy bride ;
Not that the blush to wooer dear.
Nor paleness that of maiden fear.
It may not b^ — forgive her, Chief,
Nor hazard aught for our relief.
Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'er
WjU level a rebellious spear.
'Twas I that taught his youthful hand
To rein a steed and wield a brand ;
I see him yet, the princely boy !
Not Ellen more my pride and joy ;
I love him still, despite my wrongs.
By hasty wrath, and slanderous tongues.
O seek the grace you well may find,
Without a cause to mine combined.'
v-Xi
■j^
XXXIII.
t-
Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode
The waving of his tartans broad,
I f ! And darkened brow, where wounded pride
With ire and disappointment vied,
Seemed, by the torch's gloomy light,
Like the ill Demon of the night,
Stooping his pinions' shadowy sway
Upon the nighted pilgrim's way :
But, unrequited Love ! thy dart
Plunged deepest its envenomed smart,
And Roderick, with thine anguish stung;
At length the hand of Douglas- wrung,
CANTO II.]
THE ISLAND.
While eyes, that mocked at tears before,
With bitter drops were running o'er.
The death-pangs of long-cherished hope
Scarce in that ample breast had scope,
But, struggling with his spirit proud,
Convulsive heaved its chequered shroud.
While every sob— so mute were all —
Was heard distinctly through the hall.
The son's despair, the mother's look,
111 might the gentle Ellen brook ;
She rose, and to her side there came,
To aid her parting steps, the Graeme.
57
v>l
XXXIV.
Then Roderick from the Douglas broke
Af^asliesJ|ame_through sable smoke, ^^
Kindling its wreaths7ldng," darl<,'arid low,
To one broad blaze of ruddy glow.
So deep the anguish of despair
Burst, in fierce jealousy to air.
With stalwart grasp his hand he laid
On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid ;
* Back, bea.dless boy ! " he sternly said ;
* Back, minion ! hold'st thou thus at nought
The lesson I so lately taught ?
This roof, the Douglas, and that maid.
Thank thou for punishment delayed.'
Eager as greyhound on his game,
Fiercely with Roderick grappled Grame.
* Perish my name, if aught afford
Its Chieftain safety save his sword ! '
Thus as they strove, their desperate hand
Griped to the dagger or the brand.
And death had been— but Douglas rose.
And thrust between the struggling foes
His giant strength : ' Chieftains, forego !
I hold the first who strikes, my foe. —
Madmen, forbear your frantic jar !
What ! is the Douglas fallen so far,
His daughter's hand is doomed the SDoil
Of such dishonourable broil ! '
^i^-^
7
i
Ei^illPH:
S8 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto ii.
Sullen and slowly, they unclasp,
As struck with shame, their desperate grasp,
And each upon his rival glared,
With foot advanced, and blade half bared,
t XXXV.
Ere yet the brands aloft were flung,
Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung,
And Malcolm heard his Ellen's scream,
As faltered through terrific dream.
Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword^
And veiled his wrath in scornful word.
* Rest safe till morning; pity 'twere
Such cheek should feel the midnight air !
Then mayest thou to James Stuart tell,
Roderick will keep the lake and fell,
Nor lackey, with his freeborn clan.
The pageant pomp of earthly man.
iviore would he of Clan-Alpine know,
Thou canst our strength and passes shew. —
Malise, what ho ! ' — his henchman came ;
* Give our safe-conduct to the Graeme.'
Young Malcolm answered, calm and bold :
* Fear nothing for thy favourite hold ;
The spot an angel deigned to grace.
Is blessed, though r^lbers haunt the place.
Thy churlish courtesy for those
J^eserve, who fear to be thy foes.
As safe to me the mountain way
At midnight as in blaze of day.
Though with his boldest at his back.
Even Roderick Dhu beset the track.—
Brave Douglas — lovely Ellen — nay,
Nought here of parting will I say. ■
Earth does not hold a lonesome glen,
So secret, but we meet agen. —
Chieftain! we iap shall find an hour'—
He said, and left the silvan bower.
XXXVL
Old Allan followed to the strand
^'''■'
CANTO n.]
THE ISLAND.
59
.e^
And anxious told, how, on the morn.
The stern Sir Roderick deep had sworn
The Fiery Cross should circle o'er
Dale, glen, and valley, down and moor ;
Much were the peril to the Grxme,
From those who to the signal came';
Far up the lake 'twere safest land,
Himself would row him to the strand.
He gave his counsel to the wind.
While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind.
Round dirk and pouch and broadsword rolled.
His ample plaid in tightened fold,
And stripped his limbs to such array,
As best might suit the watery way—
XXXVII.
Then spoke abrupt : ' Farewell to thee,
Pattern of old fidelity ! '
The Minstrel's hand he kindly pressed-
' O ! could I point a place of rest !
My sovereign holds in ward my land,
My uncle leads my vassal band ;
To tame his foes, his friends to aid,
Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade.
Yet, if there be one faithful Gr^me,
Who loves the Cnieftain of his name,
Not long shall honoured Douglas dwell
Like hunted stag in mountain cell ; '
Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare
I may not give the rest to air !
Tell Roderick Dhu, I owed him nought,
N^t the poor service of a boat.
To waft me to yon mountain side.'
Then plunged he in the flashing tide ;
Bold o'er the flood his head he bore.
And stoutly steered him from the shore ;
And Allan strained his anxious eye,
Far 'mid the lake his form to spy.
Darkening across each puny wave,
To which the moon her silver gave,
Fast as the cormorant could skim.
The swimmer plied each active limb ;
vv^
6o
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto IL
i .
N» i
l',i!
Then landing in the moonlight dell,
Loud shouted of his weal to tell.
The Minstrel heard the far halloo,
And joyful from the shore witiidrew.
*4
i\
i-
THE LADY OF THE LAKE.
CANTO THIRD.
®l)« ©atljmng.
I.
T' «.? ^^"^ ^\ ceaseless course. The race of yore,
A , ^5° ^^"ced our infancy upon their knee.
And told our marvelling boyhood legends store,
Of their strange ventures happed by land or sea.
How are they blotted from the things that be •
How few, all weak and withered of their force.
Wait on the verge of dark eternity,
Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse,
^"^ cours'^"" °"'* ^'^''* ' "^^""^ '^"^ ^''^ ceaseless
Yet live there still who can remember well,
15 .^"1 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,
wJ^ '?• ^'""^i *?^ warning note was keenly wound,
wu.V""^ ' ^°^* *^^''' '^'■"dred banner flew,
An^ wlll^ r.T"' ^^'•-P'Pes yelled the gathering sound,
And while the Fiery Cross glanced, like t meteor, round.
II.
^ 1 he scars of frantic penance bore.
X JJ^^"^onk, of savage form and face,
rr 5 ^i"Pe"d'"g danger of his race
Had drawn from deepest solitude,
T i^ ar m Benharrow's bosom rude
. Not his the mien of Christian priest,
SJI! "^ !,' ^'"""^ ^^^ g'"ave released,
Whose hardened heart and eye might brook
On human sacrifice to look •
And much 'twas said, of heathen lore
Mixed in the charms he muttered o'er.
The hallowed.creed gave only worse
And deadlier emphasis of curse •
No peasant sought that Hermit's praver
His cave the pilgrim shunned with care.'
I he eager huntsman knew his bound. .
And in mid chase called off his hound ;
Or if in lonely glen or strath, .^j'
The desert-dweller met hir^ath ^"^'H
He prayed, and signed the cross between,
While terror took devotion's mien
67
J)
f
V.
Of Brian's birth strange tales were told.
His mother watched a midnight fold.
Built deep within a dreary glen,
VVhere scattered lay the bones of men
in some forgotten battle slain '
And bleached by drifting wind and rain.
it might have tamed a warrior's heart
To view such mockery of his art!
The knot-grass fettered there the hand
Which once could burst an iron band ;
iieneath the broad and amnlf bone
That bucklered heart to fekr'uikno'wn,
h
li 'I!
I!f" li.
^ 6$ THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [CANTO ill.
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 mocked at time :
And there, too, lay the leader's skull,
Still wreathed with chaplet, flushed and full,
For heath-bell, with her purple bloom,
Supplied the bonnet and the plume.
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 locked her secret in her breast,
And died in travail, unconfessed.
VL
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
Op his mysterious lineage flung.
■ Whftle 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 ?nd meteor fire,
To meet and know h.s Phantom Sire !
In vain, to soothe his wayward fate,
The cloister oped her pitying gate ;
In vain, the learning of the age
Unclasped the sable-lettered page ;
Even in its treasures he could find
Food for the fever of his mind.
Eager he read whatever tells
Of magic, cabala, and spells,
CANTO III.] THE GATHERING:
And every dark pursuit allied
To curious and presumptuous pride ;
Till witii fired brain and nerves o'erstrune
And heart with uiystic horrors wrune
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,
1 111, 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.
Swelled 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 hurled.
bhaped forth a disembodied world
One lingering sympathy of mind
Still bound him to the mortal kind;
I he only parent he could claim
Of ancient Alpine's lineage came.
Late had he heard, in prophet's dream,
f he 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 horsemen ne'er might ride;
The thunderbolt had split the pine—
All augured ill to Alpine's line:
He girt his loins, and came to shew
The signals of impending woe,
And now stood prompt to bless or ban. .;U^^
As bade the chieftain of his clan. ^
VIII.
*Twas ail prepared ; and from the rock,
A goat, the patriarch of the flock,
h
70
,. A(-.v
li.
,i»t.i
THE LADY O"^ THE LAKE [canto lit
Before the kindling pile was laid,
And pierced by Roderick's ready blade.
Patient the sickening victim eyed
The life-blood ebb in crimson tide,
Down his clogged beard and shaggy hmb,
Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dmi.
The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer,
A slender crosslet formed with care,
A cubit's length m measure due :
The shaft and iimbs were rods of yew,
Whose parents in Inch-CaiUiach wave
Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grpve,
And answering Lomond's breezes deep,
Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep.
The Cross, thus formed, he held on high,
With wasted hand, and haggard eye,
And strange and mingled feehngs 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 hif^h 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 mustered force.
Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarse,
' Woe to the traitor, woe ! '
Ti^-_««'«e .jrav scaln the accents kniw,
The joyous wolf from covert diew,
\
CA^ftO Jll.]
THE GATHERING.
Irt
The exulting eagle screamed afar—
They knew the voice of Alpine's war.
X.
The shout was hushed on lake and fell,
T he monk resumed his muttered spell :
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 shail 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 stammered slow ;
Answering, with imprecation dread.
Sunk be his home in embers red '
And cursed be the meanest shed
That e'er shall hide the houseless head
We doom to w^nt and woe ! '
A sharp and shrieking echo gave
Coir-Uriskin, thy Goblin-cave !
And the gray pass where birches wav^
On Beala-nam-bo.
XI.
Then deeper paused the prest anew,
And hard his labouring breath he drew,
., =...^ rviwi 3ci iccia ana cienciieU hand.
And eyes that glowed like fiery brand,
7»
~r
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto in.
He meditated curse more dread,
And deadlier, on the clansman's heaa,
Who, summoned to his Chieftain's aid,
The signal saw and disobeyed.
The crosslet's points of sparkling wood,
He quenched among the bubbling blood,
And, as again the sign he reared,
Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard:
* When flits this Cross from man to man,
Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan,
Burst be the ear that fails to heed !
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 hcart's-blood drench his hearth I
As dies in hissing gore the spark.
Quench thou his light. Destruction dark I
And be the grace lo him denied,
Bought by this sign to all beside i *
He ceased ; no echo gave agen
The murmur of the deep Amen.
XIL
Then Ror'erick, with impatient look.
From Brian's hand the symbol took r
* Speed, Malise, speed ! ' he said, and gave
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 henchmen on the prow ;
So rapidly ine bargemen row.
The bubbles, where they launched their boat,
Were all unbroken and afloat,
Dandng in foam and ripple still,
When it had neared 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*
CANTO III.] THE GATHERING.
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.
Vet shrink not from the desperate leap ;
Parched are thy burning lips and brow,
Yet by the fountain pause not now ;
Herald of battle, fate, and fear,
Stretch onward in thy fleet career !
The wounded hind thou track'st not now,
Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough.
Nor phest thou now thy flying pace,
With rivals in the mountain race ;
But danger, death, and warrior deed.
Are m thy course— speed, Malise, speed I
St rr ^^'^'
A Fast as the fatal symbol flies,
In arms the huts and hamlets rise ;
From winding glen, from upland brown,
J hey poured each hardy tenant down.
Nor slacked the messenger his pace ■
He shewed 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 chancred cheer, the mower blithe
Left in the half-cut swathe the scythe ;
The herds without a keeper strayed.
The plough was in mid-furrow staid,
The falc'ner tossed his hawk away,
The hunter left the stag at bay:
. .r^m^;! ai luc ai^iiiu ui aiarTHS,
Each son of Alpine rushed to arms ;
73
V'l
y^ 1
74
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [caxto Ul.
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
So stilly on thy bosom deep,
The lark's blithe carol, from the cloud,
Seems for the scene too gaily loud.
i- 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 cliase,
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 villclge maids and matrons round
The dismal coronach resound.
XVL
CORONACH.
He is gone on the mountain,
He is lost to the forest,
Like a summer-dried fountain^
When our need was the sorest.
The font, reappearing.
From the rain-drops shall borrow
But to us comes no choering,
To Duncan no morrov/ ;
CANTO III.] THE GATHERING.
The hand of the reaper
Takes the ears that are hoary,
cut the voice of the weeper
Wails manhood in glory.
The autumn winds rushing
Waft the leaves that are searest,
^"t 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
£^cH ^^u^ ^^^ lightning o'er the dew,
gristles his crest, and points his ears.
As If some strafigervstep he hears. ,nW '
ris not a mourner's muffled tread, i ',
Who comes to^^row o'er the dead, ^ ^
But headlong haste, or deadly fear.
Urge the precipitate career.
All stand aghast : unheeding aH, |u«ho^ jJaJ
The henchman bursts into the hall ; ^^
ii ia1 *^u ^,^^^ "^^"'s b'er he stood ;
Held forth the Cross besmeared with blood ;
The muster-place is Lanrick mead t
Speed forth the signal ! clansmen, speed#
XVIII.
Angus, the heir of Duncan's line,
Sprjing forth and seized the fatal sign.
In^ haste the stripling to his side
His father's dirk and broadsword tied:
cut when he saw his mother's eve
Watch him In speechless agony,'
n
SIi*i
■Jll
If ■ : ' !
J%:
I 1 " t
i wi.i : ; I
76 THE LADY OF THE LAJCE. [canto lii
Back to her opened arms he flew,
Pressed on her lips a fond adieu —
' Alas ! ' she sobbed—* and yet be gone,
And speed thee forth, Hke Duncan's son!' .j^J^
One look he cast i^.pon the bier,
Dashed from his eye the gathering tear.
Breathed deep to clear his labouring breast,
And tossed aloft his bonnet crest.
Then, like the high-bred colt, when, freed,
First he essays his fire and speed,
He vanished, and o'er moor and moss
Sped forward with the Fiery Cross.
Suspended was the widow's tear.
While yet his footsteps she could hear ;
And when she marked the henchman's eye,
Wet with unwonted sympathy, ^
* Kinsman,' she said, * his race is run.
That should have sped thine errand on ;
The oak has fallen— the sapling bough
Is all Duncraggan's shelter now.
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 I
Let babes and women wail the dead.'
Then weapon-clang, and martial call,
Resounded through tne funeral hall.
While from the walls the attendant band
Snatched 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 borrowed force ;
Grief claimed his right, and tears their course.
XIX.
Benledi saw the Cross of Firs,
It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire.
O'er dale and hill the summons flew,
pause young
>
nru^
ai. i-iit
f nrnfUorofl in hxa <»VP
ICltlZV^S %/i.«
He left the mountain-breeze to dry
CAMTO m.] THE GATHERING.
Until, where Teith's young waters roll,
Betwixt him and a wooded knoll,
That graced the sable strath with green,
The chapel of Saint Bride was seen,
Swoln was the stream, remote the brid«-e.
But Angus paused not on the edge ; '^
Though the dark waves danced dizzily,
Though reeled his sympathetic eye,
He dashed amid the torrent's roar :
His right hand high the crosslet bore.
His left the pole-axe grasped, to guide
Ahd stay his footing m the tide.
He stumbled twice— the foam splashed high,
With hoarser swell the stream raced by.
And had he fallen — for ever there
Farewell Duncraggan's orphan heir !
But still, as if in parting life,
Firmer he grasped the Cross of strife,
Until the opposing bank he gained,
And up the chapel pathway strained.
"^ XX.
A blithesome rout, that morning tide.
Had sought the chapel of Saint Bride.
Her troth Tombea's Mary gave
To Norman, heir of Armandave,
And, issuing from the Gotliic 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 :
Ard children, that, unwitting why,
Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry ;
And minstrels, that in measures vied
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 side,
Beheld his prize with victor's pride,
Ann tfi*> crlorl mr\i-Vi»f in V,^w «%^«
Was closely whispering word o£ cheer.
77
78 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto hi.
XXL
Who meets t^em at the churchyard rate ?
The messenger of fear and ialc l
Haste in his hurried accent lies,
And grief is swimming in his eyes.
AU dripping from tho recent flood,
V Panting and travel soiled 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 ! I
And must he change so soon the hand,
Just linked to his by holy band.
For the fell Cross of blood and brand ?
And must the day, so blithe that rose,
And promised rapture in the close,
Before its setting hour, divide
The bridegroom from the plighted bride ?
O fatal doom !— it must ! it must !
Clan-Alpine's cause, her Chieftain's trust,
Her summons dread, brook no delay ;
Stretch to the race — away I away !
^ xxn.
Yet slow he laid his plaid aside,
And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride,
Until he saw the starting tear
Speak woe he might not stop to cheer ;
Then, trusting not a second look,
In haste he sped him up the brook,
Nor backward glanced, till on the heath
Where Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teith.
— What in the racer's bosom stirred?
The sickening pang of hope deferred,
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 hopC; from wcll-fouglst ncid returning,
CANTO III.] THE GATHERING.
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 awa,,
While high resolve, with feeling strong,-
Burst liito voluntary song.
/
XXIIL
SONG.
The heath this night must be my bed,
The bracken curtain for my head,
My lullaby th*- warder's tread,
Far, far, from love and thee, Marv ;
To-morrow-eve, more stjjl;^ laid, fijj t
My couch may be my bloody plai(V^C/
My vesper son-, thy wail, /weet maicf!
It will not waken me, Mary !
I may not, dare not, fancy now.
The grief that clouds thy lovely brow,
I dan not think upon thyvow,
And all it promised me, Mary.
No fond regret must Norman know;
\7hen 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 baitle femtght, i':oiii^\
Thy hapless lover's dying thought
Shall be a thought on thee,'Mary.
And i f return ed from conquered foes,
How blithely wil' the evening close.
How sweet the linnet sing repose.
To my young bride and me, Mary!
XXIV.
Not faster o'. tliy heathery braes,
Kalquidder, speeds ' e midnight blaze,
Rushinj^^:, 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,
xib u cr my ncams liic VOic<^ vt war.
M i 1""f
iii
80 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto llfc
The signal roused to martial coil,
The sullen margin of Loch Voil,
Walced still Loch Doine, and to the source,
Alarmed, Balvaig, thy swampy course ;
Thence southward turned its rapid road
Adovvn Strath-Gartney's valley broad,
Till rose in anps each man might claim
A portion in Clan Alpine's name,
From the gray 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 sequestered glen,
Mustered 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 trained to arms since life began.
Owning no tie but to his clan,
No oath, but by his chieftain's hand.
No law, but Roderick Dhu's command.
XXV.
That summer morn had Roderick Dhu
Surveyed the skirts of Benvenue,
And sent his scouts o'er hill and heath,
To view the frontiers of Menteith.
All backward came with news of truce ;
Still lay each martial Graeme and Bruce,
In Reanock 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 seemed at peace. — Now, wot ye why
The Chieftain, with such anxious eye,
Ere to the muster he repair.
This western frontier scanned with care ?
In Benvenue's most darksome cleft,
A fair, though cruel, pledge was left j
For Douglas, to his promise true,
ThaX mosulsi^ itam the i^slg withdreWi
CANTO HI.] THE GATHERING. ti
And in a deep sequestered 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,
Yawned like a gash on warrior's breast? • i
Its trench had staid full many a rock, uAAr A' ^^/HOuUAJ
Hurled by primeval earthquake shock ^^^^^ ^
from Ben venue's gray summit wild, '
And here, in random ruin piled, »
They frowned incumbent o'er the spot.
And lormed the rugged silvan grot
The oak and birch, wich mangled shade.
At noontide there a twilight made
Unless when short and sudden shone
Some straggling beam on cliff or stone,
With such a glimpse as prophet's eye
Gams oh 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 mcessant war of wave and rock
Suspended cliffs, with hideous sway
Seemed nodding o'er the cavern o-rav
From such a den the wolf had sp%nff
In such the wild-cat leaves her youn?-
Yet Douglas and his daughter fair '
Sought for a space their safety there.
Gray Superstition's whisper dread
Debarred the spot to vulgar tread ;
For there, she said, did fays resort'
And satyrs hold their silvan court.
By moonlight tread their mystic maze.
And blast the rash behoM'T's *
•mJ^mB^^^^:i--ii' « 0im ^ i^i.*^',
[^
§2 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iti
XXVIL
Now eve, with western shadows long,
Floated on Katrine bright and strong,
When Roderick, with a chosen few,
Repassed 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,
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-levelled 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.
XXVIIL
Their Chief, with step reluctant, still
Was lingering on the craggy hill.
Hard by where turned 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.
Has yet a harder task to prove —
Bv firm resolve to conquer love 1
CANTO III.] THE GATHERING.
Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost,
btill hovering near his treasure lost ;
For though his haughty heart deny V ^, '
^.Pajt'ng meeting to his eye, ^ V^
Still fondly strains his anxious ear, * *
1 he accents of her voice to hear
And inly did he curse the breeze
1 hat waked to sound the rustling trees.
But hark ! what mingles in the strain c
It IS the harp of Allan-bane,
That wakes its measure slow and high
Attuned to sacred minstrelsy.
,^'^^J.!?elting voice attends the strings ?
I IS Ellen, or an angel, sings.
XXIX.
HYMN TO THE VIRGIN.
Ave Maria f maiden mild !
Listen to a maiden's prayer !
Thou canst hear though from the wild.
1 hou canst save amid despair,
bafe may vye sleep beneath thy care,
Though banished, outcast, and reviled--.
?!l P • ^^^^ ^ maiden's prayer ;
Mother, hear a suppliant child !
Ave Maria / undefiled i ^'f''' ^^'''^ '
The flinty couch we now must share
bhall seem with down of eider piled,
II thy protection hover there,
e, murky cavern's heavy air
Then M.'7''^ "i •'^^'^ '^ *'^^" '^^«* smiled ;
MnVj, r'? • ^^^' ^ "^'^''den's prayer, '
Mother, list a suppliant child !
Ave Maria! S.ainless styled"^"" ^"^^'''''^ ^
Foul demons of the earth and air,
Q^n'^ *l^'!; "^^^^^d h^^nt 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 nrav^r
And for a father hear a child \ '
Ave Maria (
83
^■i immtmmm. i-
K« >•.
; I I
^4 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto lii
XXX.
Died on the harp the closing hymn —
Unmoved in attitude and lin^b,
As listening 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 muttered 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,
And instant 'cross the lake it shot.
They landed in that silvery bay,
And eastward held their hasty w^y,
Till, with the latest beams of light,
The band arrived on Lanrick height.
Where mustered, in the vale below,
Clan-Alpine's men in martial show.
XXXL .
A various scene the clansmen made.
Some sate, some stood, some slowly strayed ;
But most, with mantles folded round,
Were couched to rest upon the ground,
Scarce to be known by curious eye, ^
From the deep heather where they He,
So well was matched the tartan screen
With heath-bell dark and brakens 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 f.u^v^jj^j^^
Three times returned the martial yell; ^^
It died upon Bochastle's plain,
AnH «ilpnrp r.laimed her eveninff reififn.
THE LADY OF THE LAKE,
CANTO FOURTH.
®l)e JJroplfeig.
I.
*'T'HE rose is fairest when 'tis budding ngw,
dicf'^
And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears :
The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew,
And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears.
O wilding rose, v/hom 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 stripped 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 i — on the rock a footstep rung,
And instant to his arms he sprung.
* Stand, or thou diest !— What, Malise ?— sooa
Art thou returned from Braes of Doune.
By thy keen step and glance I know,
Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe.' —
^For while the Fiery Cross hied on,
vn distant scout iwd Maiise gone.)
8S
86
TH^ LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto IV.
VisM«
U
4'!
Br ■11
It
'Ml
.r*.^'''"
* Where sleeps the Chief ? ' the henchman said.
* Apart, in yonder misty glade ;
To his lone couch I'll be your guide.* —
Then called a slumberer by his side,
And stirred him with his slackened bow^
* Up, up, Glentarkin ! rouse thee, ho !
We seek the Chieftain ; on the track,
Keep eagle watch till I come back.*
in.
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
Ha5; 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
Unfit for arms ; and given hib charge,
Ngif^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.
* 'Tis well advised— the Chieftain's plan
Bespeaks the father of his clan.
But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dim
Apart from all his followers true ? ' —
* It is, because last evening-tide -:-vv-v^ a^v'vu^ 5"wy
Brian an augury hath tried, > ^, * ' ]^i.,
Cf that dread kind which must not be
Uiiiess in dread extremity,
^
rJ
^i»-
i-^
[V.
CANTO IV.]
THE PROPHECY.
The Taghairm called ; by which, afar,
Our sires foresaw the events of war.
Duiicraggan'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 glowed like fiery spark ;
So fierce, so timeless, and so fleet,
Sore did he cumber our retreat,
And kept our stoutest kernes in awe 'f wa^jJi
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.'— "^-^
V.
NORMAN.
*That bull was slain : his reeking hide
They stretched the cataract beside,
^/ , Whose waters their wild tumult toss
'J. (?t» Adow.n the blark and craggy boss
OfThat huge cliff, whose ample verc^e
Tradition calls the Hero's Targe '^
1 i m"^?"^''^*? ^'^ ^ ^^'''^^^ beneath i?s brink,
''-.i^A^^^Iose where the thundering torrents sink,
' Rockmg 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 nermit gains yon rock, and stands
To gaze upon our slun ■K.iii^ bards.
Seems not he, Malise. hk.: a ghost,
That hovers o'er a slauf^'-ered host.?
Or raven on the blasted'oak.
That, watching while the deer is broke,
tiis morsel claims with sullen croak ? '
^1
AaK'I ■ 4^
C^^^i ■' p
S8
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iy.
.l<^
C
i
i
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 au^t that, gleaned from heaven or hell,
Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell.
The Chieftain joins him, see — and now,
Together they descend the brow.'
VL
And, as they came, with Alpine's lord
The Hermit monk held solemn word :
* Roderick ! it is a iearful strife,
For man endowed with mortal life,
Whose shroud of sentient day can still
Feel feverish pang and faint Uig chill,
Whose eye can stare in stony trance,
Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lance — •
'Tis hard for such to view, unfurled.
The curtain of the future world.
Yet, witness every quaking limb,
My sunken pulse, mine eyeballs dim,
My soul with harrowing anguish torn.
This for my Chieftain have I borne ! —
The shapes that sought my fearful :ouch,
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 fatal answer came.
In characters of living flame !
Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll.
But borne and branded on ray soul ; —
Which spills the foremost foeman's life,
That party conquers in the strife.'
VIL
* Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care !
vlA
• I-^ '
,w
#
vjiwvt la ^iiiiix, aur' ux
Jf
auu i.ai.1^
Canto iv.]
I"?!
THE PROPHECY.
/ ' 'i ^^^":^^P'ne ne'er in battle stood,
J^xmhj^^ "''St our broadswords tasted blood.
A surer victim still I know,
Self-offered to the auspicious blow :
A spy has sought my land this morn—
Jfo e^ shall witness his return !
My fSIlowers guard each pass's mouth,
10 east, to westward, and to south;
Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide.
Has charge to lead his steps aside,
1 111, m deep path or dingle brown.
He light on those shall bring him down.
—Jiut see, who com^s his news to shew !
Mahse ! what tidings of the foe ? '—
VIII.
At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive,
Iwo Barons proud their banners wave.
I saw the Moray's silver star,
And marked the sable pale of Mar.'
By Alpine's scul, high tidings those '
^,Jove to hear of worthy foes.
When move they on ?'--' To-morrow's noon
W 11 see them here for battle boune.'
1 lien shall it see a meeting stern '—
But, for the place— say, couldst thou learn
Nougiit of the friendly clans of Earn ?
Strengthened by them, we well might bide
The battle on Benledi's side.
Thou couldst not .P-well ! Clan-Alpine ;> men
Sha 1 man the Trosachs' shaggy glen :
Withm 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-omened tear I
A messenger of doubt or fear ?
No ! sooner may the Saxon lance
Unfix Benledi from his stance.
Than doubt or terror can pierce through
_Ai — ii^iv,.„...^ iiuait ui x\uuericK uhuf
89
< ' • •* 'J
;"'swa«»cowft.£5^SiBM*i
i^' 1 '
U n
,5 ''
90 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv.
'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe.
Each to his post!— all know their charp:c.'
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.
•J/-
IX.
Where is the Douglas ?— he is gone
And Ellen sits on "the gray stone
Fast by the cave, and makes her moan ;
While vainly Allan's words of cheer
Are poured on her unheeding ear. —
*He will return— Dear lady, trust!—
With joy return ;— he will— he must.
WeU was it time to seek, afar,
Some refuge from impending war,
When e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged swarm
Are cowed by the approaching storm.
I saw their boats with many a light,
Floating the live-long yesternight,
Shifting like flashes darted forth
By the red streamers of the north ;
I marked at morn how close they ride,
Thick moored by the lone islet's side.
Like wild-ducks couching in the fen,
When stoops the hawk upon the glen.
Since this rude race dare not abide
The peril on the mainland side,
Shall not thy noble father's care
Some safe retreat for thee prepare ? '— -
X.
ELLEN.
* No, Allan, no ! Pretext so Wnd
My wakeful terrors could not blind.
When in such tender tone, yet grave,
Douglas a parting blessing gave,
The tear that glistened in his eye
Drowned not his purpose fixed on high.
i'
h^.
y
^^J
^^
"»•■
CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY.
91
My soul, though feminine and weak.
Can image his ; e'en as the lake,
Itself disturbed by slightest stroke,,
Keflects the invulnerable rock. u '
He hears report of battle rife, V * "^
He deems himself the cause of strife.
I saw him redden, when the theme
Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream
Of Malcolm Grceme in fetters bound,
-nS ' hou saidst, about him wound.
OS n^I V^''''' ^'^ ^'^^^^ ^'^'"e omen aught ?
On 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 Couglas dare not pause.
Why else that solemn warning given
ivu"''\°° ^""'^^^ '^^ "I'-^^t '" heaven!"
Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane.
It eve return him not again,
Am I to hie, and make me known ?
Alas ! he goes to Scotland's tlirone,
Buys his friend's safety with his own ;~ n t , i
He goes to do-what I have done, JnnM -^^^^ ^^
Had Douglas' daughter been his son !^
XI.
'Nay, lovely Ellen .'-dearest, nay! r ,,
If aught should his return delay/ kV^^
He only named yon holv fane ^H '^
As fitting place to meet' again.
Be sure he's safe ; and for the Gr^me-
Heaven s blessing on his gallant name !—
My visioned sight may yet prove true,
Nor bode of ill to him or you.
When did my gifted dream beguile ?
1 tunk of the stranger at the isle.
And think upon the harpings slow.
That presaged this approaching woe I
booth was my prophecy of fear ;
Believe it when it augurs cheer.
Would we had left this dismal spot I
in luck still haunts a fairv (rmt
4(
'is
92
M
W-
•^'/i
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv.
Of such a wondrous tale I know —
Dear lady, change that look of woe,
My harp was wont thy grief to cheer.' —
ELLEN.
* Well, be it as thou wilt ; I hear,
But cannot stop the bursting tear/
The Minstrel tried his simple art,
But distant far was Ellen's heart.
XIL
Sallab.
ALICE BRAND.
Merry it is in the good greenwood,
When the mavis and merle are singing,
ff/' M^^
I When the mavis and merle are singing, ♦?•
' ' When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry,
And the hunter's horn is ringing.
* O Alice Brand, my native land
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.
* 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 pa41. thy fingers small,
That wont on harp to stray,
A cloak must sheer from the slaughtered
To keep the cold away. -
* O Richard ! if my brother died,
'Twas but a fatal chance ;
For darkling was the battle tried, . •' "
And fortune sped the lance.
deer
CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY.
* If paii and vair no more I wear,
or thou the crimson shp«n,
As warm, we'll say, is the n .set gray,
A' 5ay the forest-green.
* And, Richard, if our 1^ hard.
And lost thy native land,
Still Alice has her own Richard,
And he his, Alice Brand.'
XIII.
BALLAD CONTINUED.
'"^o "J^r7' *t's merry, in good greenwood,
So bhthe Lady Alice is singing ;
T ^H t^.^?^^'^ P'*^de, and oak's brown side.
L,orcI Richard's axe is ringing.
Up spoke the moody Elfin King,
Who woned within the hill-
Like wind in the porch of a ruined church
His voice was ghostly shrill.
* Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak,
Our moonlight circle's screen ?
Or who CO >ies here to chase the deer,
Belovea of our Elfin Queen ?
Or who may dare on wold to wear
The fairies' fatal green ?
* Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortil hie,
For thou wert christened r i ;
For cross or sign thou wilt no fly.
For muttered word or ban.
'Lay on him the curse of the withered heart
The curse of the sleepless eye ;
Till he wish and pray that his life would part.
Nor yet find leave to die.'
XIV.
BALLAD CONTINUED.
T^ merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood,
Though the birds have stilled their singing:
The evening blaze doth Alice raise.
And Richard is fagots bringing.
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XVI.
Just as the minstrel sounds were staid,
A stranger climbed the steepy glade;
« His martial step, his stately mien.
His hunting suit of Lincoln green.
His ergle glance, remembrance claims—
Tis Snowdoun's Knight, 'tis James Fitz-James
H-Uei) beheld as in a d^ream.
Then, starting, scarce suppressed a scream :
* O stranger ! in such hour of fear.
What evil hap has brought thee here ? *—
* An evil bap how can it be,
That bids me look again on thee ?
By promise bound, my former guide
Met me betimes this morning tide,
And marshalled, over bank and bourne,
The happy path of my return.'—
— ■
■PW—
96
'
THE LALY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv.
* The happy path !— what ! said he nought
Of war of battle to be fought,
Of guarded pass ? ' — • No, by my faith !
Nor ^vf, I aught could augur scathe.' —
* O l^:e thee, Allan, to the kern,
""^^ er his tartans I discern ;
r.fllPtbOM his purpose, and conjure
That hewill guide the stranger sure I—
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 Hfe must be,
Since it is worthy care from thee ;
Yet life I hold but idle breath.
When love or he lour's weighed with death.
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
Trpm frantic scenes of feud and war.
Nea| Bochastle my horses wait ;
Th(4^bear us soon to Stirling gate.
I'll place thee in a lovely bower,
I'll guard thee like a tender flower ' — —
* O ! hush, Sir Knight ! '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 ws.y 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 !
But first — my father is a man
Outlawed and exiled, under bany
CANTO iv.l THE PROPHECY.
'>Wv 4^«''
■?r
The price of blood Is on his head
Fit.Ja.es ther?isTn'o,t^^^^^^^^^ the truth!
aZ • ^ '" '-exposed for me
And mme to dread extremity-
Thou hast the secret of my heart •
Forgive, be generous, and^deparli*
XVIII.
97
A ladv? fiirT ^""^'y ""'^y tram
A lady s fickle heart to Min.
?h reThot'no"? ^"'/^^' ''^'^ ^afn.
To Jf u "° ^'^"^e ^^om Ellen's eve
I?£-S ^'' '*'/^^^'''* «Peec:h the lie r
In maiden confidence she stocrl '
ISd'tlfdr In' " -^f ^ ^^^^'^"'^e blood,
^na told her love with such a >:rh
Of deep and hopeless agony, "
As death had sealed her M/lroi.v,. -
AndshesatsorrowUoni:iitmb."°°™'
Ho^.- vanished from Fitz-James's eve
gut not with ho,.e fled sympaUiy ^ '
H^ proffered to attend her sfdef*
As brother would a sister guide -
' O • httle know'st thou Roderick's h*»,rf »
St/ste th^' - P apartr'^Si' '?'*-l
if *u ^^^^' ^"^ ^'"O"^ Allan learii^
H thou mayst trust yon wily kem/
With hand upon his forehead laid
The conflict of his mind to shade '
A parting step or two he made ;
1 hen, as some thought had cro«Pr? h;. u •
He paused, and turn^ed, and camrag^'L^'^'"^
XIX.
* Hear, lady;, yet, a parting word ^—
Prestved^L" "it' *^^ "^^^ POor sword
Preserved the hfe of Scotland's lord
This ring the grateful monarch gave
And bade, when I had boon to iZ%
9«
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv.
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 wav ;
And claim thy suit, whate'er it be,
As ransom of his pledge to me.'
He placed the golden circlet on,
Paused— kissed her hand— and then was gone.
The aged Minstrel stood aghast.
So hastily Fitz-James shot past.
He joined his guide, and wendmg down
The ridges of the mountain brown.
Across the stream they ^.ook their way,
That joins Loch Katrine to Achray.
XX.
All in the Trosachs' glen was still.
Noontide was sleeping on the biH =
Sudden his guide whooped loud and high—
« Murdoch ! was that a signal cry ? '—
He stammered forth—* I shout to scare
Yon raven from his dainty fare.'
He looked— he knew the raven's prey.
His own brave steed :— * Ah, gallant gray !
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 I
Jealous and sullen on they fared.
Each silent, each upon his guard.
XXL
Now wound the path its dizzy ledge
Around a precipice's edge,
!'>#«*'
CANTO iv.j THE PROPHECY.
When lo ! a wasted female form,
Blighted bv wrath of sun and storm,
J n tattered weeds and wild array
Stood on a cliff beside the way
And glancing round her restles's eye.
Upon the wood, the rock, the sky
Seenied nought to mark, yet all to spy.
Her brow was wreathed with gaudy broom ;
With gesture wild she waved I plume
Of feathers, which the eagles flino'
ro crag and cliff from dusky win? ;
Such spoils her desperate step had sought,
Where scarce was footing for the goat.
The tartan plaid she first descried, J
And shrieked till all the rocks replied : -^^^^
As loud she laughed when near they drew,
For then the Lowland garb she knew ;
And then her hands she wildly wrun^r,
And then she wept, and then she sung-
She sung!-the voice, in better time.
Perchance to harp or lute might chime ;
R^ "° m'J^''"^^ ^^""^'"^^ ^»d roughened, still
Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill.
99
XXII.
TU ,U.J . SONG.
They bid me sleep, they bid me pray,
I Z ^^.'7 "">" ^'■^''^ ^« warped 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 prav
That heaven would close my wintry day.
'Twas thus my hair they bade me braid,
They made me to the church repair ;
It was my bridal morn, they said, '
And mv true love would meet me there
But woe betide the cruel guile,
That drowned in blood the morning smile I .
^oni"^"^ ^i'^^ '^^ ^^''y dream ! " '
ronly waked to sob and scream.
H'i^.j^i
t^ **v^ rt#(i
7 f^
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv.
XXIIL
< Who is this maid ? what means her lay ?
She hovers o'er the hollow way,
And flutters wide her mantle gray,
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,
When Roderick forayed Devan-side.
The gay bridegroom resistance made.
And felt our Chief's unconquered blade.
I marvel she is now at large.
But oft she 'scapes from Maudlin's charge. —
Hence, brain-sick fool ! '—He raised his bow:—
* Now, if thou strik'st her but one blow,
I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far
As ever peasant pitched a bar ! '
« Thanks, champion, thanks ! ' the Maniac cned,
And pressed her to Fitz-James's side.
* See the gray pennons I prepare,
To seek my true-love through the air !
I will not lend that savage groom.
To break his fall, one downy plume I
No ! — deep amid disjointed stones,
The wolves shall batten on his bones,
And then shalthis 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 !
His coat it was all of the greenwood hue.
And so blithely he trilled the Lowland lay !
\JU^
CANTO IV.] THE PROPHECY.
'It was not that I meant to ten....
But thou art wise, and guessest well.'
IJ7''".aiowandbroLntone,
And hurried note, the song went on.
Still on the Clansmpn, fearfully,
She fixed her. apprehensive eye:
Then turned it on the Knight, aid then
Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen!
XXV.
* It was a stag, a stag of ten,
Ueanng his branches sturdilv
He came stately down the glen, '
Ever sing hardily, hardily.
* It was there he met with a wounded doe
She was bleeding deathfully ; ^'
She warned him of the toils be ow
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-to«Prl
When Ellen's hints and fearfwere lost •
5nd ^r'^^ifV^ ^'^^"t suspiciorwrought
And Blanche's song conviction broult^
Rn. H ^ ^/i^g 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/ *
iot
rmm
loa THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto tv.
The shaft jnst arnrvA Fitz-J.uncs's crest,
And thrillc?ain.—
I waver still,— () (iod | more bright
Let reason beam her oarting light I—
O 1 by thy knichthood's honoured sign,
And for thy life preserved by mine,
when thou shall 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,
lie thy heart bold, thy weapon strong,
And wreak |)oor Blanche of Uevan's wrong I—
They watch for thee bv pass and fell . . .
Avoid the path . . . O God I . . . farewell.
XXVIII.
A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James ;
Fast poured his eves at pity's claims,
And now, with mingled grief and ire,
He saw the murdered maid expire.
* God, in my nccil, 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 I swear,
No other favour will I wear,
Till this sad token I imbrue
In the best blood of Roderick Dhu I
—But hark! what means yon faint halloo?
The chase is up— but they shall know,
1 he stag at bay's a dangerous foe.'
Barred from the known but guarded way,
Ihrough copse and cliffs Fitz-James must stray.
^ And oft must change his desperate track,
By stream and precipice turned back.
Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length,
from lack of food and loss of strength,
W -iX ,
t04 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iV.
He couched 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 guessed,
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 1 — >
If farther through the wilds I go,
J only fall upon the foe :
I '11 couch me here till evening gray,
Then darkling try my dangerous way.*
XXIX.
The shades of eve come slowly down,
The woods are wrapt in deeper brown.
The owl awakens ffom her dell.
The fox is heard ujjon the fell ;
Enough remains of gh'mmering light
To guide the wanderer's steps aright,
Yet not enough from far to shew
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,
Tempered the midnight mountain air,
But every breeze, that swept the wold,
Benumbed his drenched limbs with cold.
In dread, in danger, and alone,
Famished and chilled, through ways unknown,
Tangled and steep, he journeyed on ;
Till, as a rock's huge point he turned,
A watch-fire close before him burned.
XXX.
Beside its embers red and clear.
Basked, in his plaid, a mountaineer ;
And up he sprung with sword in hand —
* Thy name and purpose ! Saxon, stand ! ' —
CANTO
IV.J
UE PROPHECY.
105
* A stranger.'—' What dost thou require ? '— -
* Rest and a puide, and food and fire.
My life's beset, my path is lost,
The gale has chilled my limbs with frost.' —
* Art thou a friend to Roderick ?'— ' No.'—
'Thou darest not call thyself a foe ? ' —
* I dare ! to him and all the band
He brings to aid his murderous hand.' —
' Hold 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 recked, where, how, or when.
The prowling fox was trapped or slain ?
Thus treacherous scouts — yet sure they He,
Who say thou camest a secret spy ? ' —
* They do, by heaven !— Come Roderick Dhu,
And of his clan the boldest two,
And let me but tilt morning rest,
I write the falsehood on their crest.'—
* If by the blaze T mark aright.
Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight.'—
* Then by these tokens mayst thou know
Each proud oppressor's mortal foe.' —
' Enough, enough ; sit down and share
A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare.'
XXXI.
He gave him of his Highland cheer,
The hardened flesh of mountain deer ;
Dry fuel on the fire he laid.
And bade the Saxon share his plaid.
He tended him like welcome guest.
Then thus his further speech addressed : —
* Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu,
A clansman born, a kmsman true ;
Each word against his honour spoke.
Demands of me avenging stroke ;
Yet more — upon my late, 'tis said,
A mighty augury is laid.
It rests with me to wind my horn —
Thou art with numbers overborne }
.^- •'*'#'
^H'
,06 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [cANto iv.
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 1 depart from honour's laws ;
To assail a wearied man were shame,
And stranger is a holy name ;
Guidance and rest, and food and hre,
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 warC,
Till past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard,
As far as Coilantogle's ford ; ^
From thence thy warrant is thy sword. —
♦ 1 take thy courtesy, by Heaven,
As freely as 'tis nobly given ! '—
' * Well, rest thee ; for the bittern's cry
Sin s us the lake's wild lullaby.'
With that he shook the gathered heath,
And spread his plaid upon the wreath •,
And the brave foemen, side by side,
Lay peaceful down like brothers tried,
And slept until the dawning beam
Purpled the mountain and the stream.
! if" ""I
04
'•■^^ - '^
i'^
\
1' - -^.
\
n-f
^Vv'^^r^^^^-"^
\j^
fV ^rrv^Kki Ww^-^\
THE LADY OF THE LAKE.
CANTO FIFTH.
®l)e Combat.
I.
'AIR as the earliesfbeam of eastern light,
When first, l?y the bewildered pilgrim spied,
It smiles upon the dreary brow of night, i*^
And si^^^grs o^ the torrent's foaming tide, -i ^
And lights the fearful path on mountain side ;
F^ir as that beam, although the fairest far,
Giving to hoiror grace, to danger pride,
Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star,
Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow of
War.
.fj^^
11.
That early beam, so fair and sheen, "^ '
Was twinkling through the hazeTscreen,
When, rousing at its glimmer red,
The warriors left their lowly bed,
Looked out upon the dappled sky,
Muttered their soldier matins by.
Anld then awaked their fire, to steal, i, / .
As short and rude, their soldier meal. /WVw, M^mii
That Q^r, the Gael around him threw
His graceful plaid of varied hue.
And, true to promise, led the way,
By thicket green and mountain gray.
Ill
1W
iP**
XX2 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. [caKToV.
A wildering paih ! — they winded now
Along the precipice's brow,
Commanding the rich scenes beneath,
The wirmings of the Forth and Teith
And all the vales between that lie,
. Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky ;
I 4M Then, suok in copse, their farthest glance
,, k^i Gained not the length of horseman's lance,
' J *Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain
Assistance from the hand to gain ;
So tangled oft, that, buciting through,
Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew —
That diamond dew, so pure and clear.
It rival's all biLt Beauty's tear !
in.
At lengtn they came where, stern and steep,
The hill sinks down upon the deep.
Here Vennachar in sib^r flows, *
There, ridge on ridge, Ben^edi 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 ar^oak.
With shingles bare, and cliffs between,
And patches bright of bracken green,
And heather black, that waved so high.
It held the copse in rivalry.
^ - But where the lake slept deep and still,
"^^■^Tf ^ JDaak osiers fringed the swamp and hill j
^^'tW- And oft both path and hill were torn, vK
' Where wintry torrents down had borne,
And heaped upon the cumbered land
Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand.
So toilsome was the road totrace,
The guide, abating of his pace,
Led slowly through the pass's jaws,
And asked Fitz-James, by what strange cause,
He sought these wilds, traversed by few.
>v.
*Vy/^jw^ OJtd (jJi
fii
/yiHA/vu^
„J^'
,J^'
,^-
CANTO v.]
THE COMBAT.
IV.
"3
'Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried,
Hangs :n my belt, and by my side ;
Yet, sooth to tell,' the Saxon said, J,
* I dreamt not now \o claim its aid. 6^^-^^Pi^
When here, but three days since, I came,
''*
Bewildered in pursuit of game, ^//,,
All seemed as peaceful and as still
As the mist slumbering on yon hill ; '
Thy dangerous Chief was then afar,
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 fixed cause,
As gives the poor mechanic laws ?
Enough, I sought to drive away
1 he 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 strayed.
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 not of Lowland war,
Against Clan-Alpine, raised 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 flunff.
a^'//'
^d
fO
? -a-tv
C^iiw*
J^fee 5?e they flung T— as free shall wave
Ciaa-Alpinc's pine in banner brave.
XI4
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto V.
.^^^<--^
v)^'
But, Stranpjer, peaceful since you came, •
Bewildered in the mountain game, +*
5 Whence the bold boast by which you shew .V ,
VVich-Alpine's vowed and mortal foe ? ' "^ Q
* Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew
Nought of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu,
Save as an outlawed desperate man,
The chief of a rebellious clan, ^
Who, in the Regent's c6urt and sight, 9'At^
And from the robber rend tlie 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— ''Vc'^^ >
The Gael, of plain anTriverlTeir,
Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share
Where live the mountain Chiefs who hijld V^^
That plundering Lowland field and fold
Is aught but retribution true ?
Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu.'
VIII.
Answered Fitz-James— ' A nd, if I sought,
Thmk'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 strayed,
I seek, good faith, a Highland maid^
\A.-\
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1x6 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
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 doomed to die,
Save to fulfil an augury.'
• Well, let it pass ; nor will I jiow
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 1 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 ! *
il^JMM^
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IX.
Jpi'
V
* Have, then, thy wish ! '—he whistled shrill,
And he was answered from the hill;
Wild a:> the scream of the curlew,
From crag to crag the signal flew.
Instant, through copse and heath, arose
Bonnets, and spears, and bended bows j
On right, on left, above, below.
Sprung up at once the lurking foe ;
From shingles gray their lances start.
The bracken bush sends forth the dart,
The rushes and the willow-wand
Are bristling into axe and brand.
And every tuft of broom gives life
T«jij$)laided warrior armed for strife.
j^^hat whistle garrisoned the glen
iij^T At once with full five hundred men,
^ ^ As-jf t he yawning hill to heaven
y*^ A subterranean host had given.
Watching their leader's beck and will.
All silent there they stood, and still.
'L\k^ the !»;.;jse crags whose threatening mass
Lav .' ili/lnfr \Ver the hollow pass,
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THE COMBAT.
Uf
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 fixed 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 ! '
aJl'^^
X.
Fitz-James was brave :— Though to his heart
The life-blood thrilled with sudden start,
He manned himself with dauntless air,
Returned the Chief his haughty stare.
His back against a rock he bore,
And firmly placed his foot before : —
'Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I.'
Sir Roderick marked— and in his eyes
Respect was mingled with surprise,
And the stern joy which warriors feel
In foemen worthy of their stoel.
Short space he stood— then waved his hand ;
Down sunk the disappearing band ;
Each warrior vanished where he stood.
In broom or bracken, heath or wood ;
Sunk brand, and spear, and bended bow.
In o^rs pale and copses low;
It seemed as if their mother Earth
Had swallowed up her warlike birth.
The wind's last breath had tossed in air,
PeniiOn, and pla]_d, and plumage fair—
The next but sw^pt a lone lilU-side,
Where heath and fern were waving wide :
The sun's last glance was glinted back,
From spear and glaive, from targe and lack—
-V
lis Hi
vi, au unreueccca, snone
On bracken green, and cold gray stone
ii8
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
XL
Fitz-James looked round — yet scarce believed
The witness t'at liis sight received ;
Such apparition well might seem
Delusion of a dreadful dream.
Sir Roderick in suspense hejeyed,
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 shew 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 tempered flood, ^S
As, following Roderick's stride, he drew
That seeming lonesome pathway through, ^
Which yet, by fearful proof, was rife W.f'^;
With lances, that, to take his life, '
Waited but signal from a guide,
So late dishonoured and defied.
Everj by stealth, his eye sought round
The vanished guardians of the ground,
And still, from copse and heather deep,
Fancy saw spear and broadsword peep,
And in the plover's shrilly strain.
The signal whistle heard again.
\ Nor breathed he free till far behind
The pass was left ; for then they wind
Along a wide and level green.
Where neither tree nor tuft was seen.
v^
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CANTO V.J
THE COMBAf .
Xlt.
119
»^'
The Ch;ef in silence strode before,
And reached that torrent's sounding shore,
Which, daughter of three mighty lakes,
From Vennachar in silver break's,
Sweep- through the plain, and ceaseless minei
On Bocastle the mouldering lines,
Where Rome, the Empress of the world.
Of yore her eagle wings unfurled :
And here his course the Chieftain staid,
Threw down his target and his plaid,
And to the Lowland warrior said :-
* Bold Saxon ! to his promise^jii&t,
i-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,
fjf\.( Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard.
Xv '* \Now, mau to man, and steel to steel, ^ .•tv-v^.-w^.?
"/V^x- /t.AK,'/^-^'''*^*'^
A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel.
See, here, all vantageless I stand.
Armed, like thyself, with single brand :
For this is Coilantogle ford,
And thou must keep thee with thy sword.*
XIII.
The Saxon paused : — * I ne'er delayed,
When foeman bade me draw my blade ;
Nay more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death :
Yet sjjre thy fair and generous faith.
And my deep debt for life oreserved,
A better mcied have well deserved :
Can nought but blood our feud atone ?
Are there no means ? — ' No, Stranger, none!
And hear — to ^ 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,
* Thy riddle is alreadj read.
: :n
.5
120 tHE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff-
There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff
Thus Fate has solved her prophecy,
Then yield to Fate and not to me.
To James, at Stirling, let us go,
"When, if thou wilt be still his foe,
Or if the King shall not agree
To grant thee grace and favour free,
I plight mine honour, oath, and word,
That, to thy native str ength s restored,
With each advantage shalt thou stand.
That aids thee now to guard thy land.'
XIV.
Dark lighljaiiig flashed from Roderick's eye—
■ * Soars thy presumption, then, so high,
Because a wretched keni ye slew.
Homage to name^o 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 sliewn ;
Though not from copse, or heath, otLcajrn,
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,
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CANTO v.]
THE COMBAT.
"3
Two who bear lance, and two who lead,
By loosened rein, a saddled steed;
Each onward held his headlong; course,
And by Fitz-James reined up his horse—
With wonder viewed the bloody spot—
* Exclaim not, gallants ! question not
You, Herbert and Luffness, alight,
And bind the wounds of yonder knight ;
Let the gray paJicey 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. C3^-/A*.'>. ' ..y
The sun rides high ;— I must be boune, — >/
To see the archer game at noon ;
But lightly Bayard clears the lea.—
De Vaux and Herries, follow me.
XVIII.
* Stand, Bayard, stand ! '— the steed obeyed,
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 wreathed his left hand in the mane,
And lightly bounded from the plain.
Turned on the horse his armed heel,
And stirred his courage with the steel.
Bounded the fiery steed in air,
The rider sate erect and fajr, .^^.^ lit^.,^,4v
1 nen like a bolt from steel croSsbow
forth launched, along: the plain they go.
They dashed that rapid torrent through,
And up Carhonie's hill they flew ;
Still at the gallop pricked the Knight,
His merry-men followed as they might.
Along thy banks, swift Teith ! they ride.
And in the race they mock thy tide ;
Torry and Lendrick now are past,
And Deanstown lies behind them cast ;
Jhey rise, the bannered towers of Doune
They sink in distant wnodland soon *
124 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
Bhiir-Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire,
They sweep like breeze through Ochtertyre;
They mark just gUmcc and disappear
The lofty brow of ancient Kier ;
They bathe their courser's* sweltering sides,
Dark F'orth ! amid thy sluggish tides,
And on the opposing shore take g; ound.
With plash, with scramble, and with bound.
Right-hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth I
And soon the bulwark of the North,
Gray Stirling, with her towers and town,
Upon their fleet career looked down.
XLX.
As up the flinty path they strained,
Sudden his steed the leader reined ;
A signal to his squire he flung.
Who instant to his stirrup sprung: —
* Seest thou, De Vaux, yon wooclsman gray
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 wh^m ?*
* No, by my word ; — a burly gro_om
He seems, who in the field or cliase
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 m Scotland is not seen.
Treads not such step on Scottish green.
*Tis James of Douglas, by Saint Serle 1
The uncle of the banished Earl.
Away, away, to court, to shew
The near approach of dreaded foe .
The King must stand upon his guard ;
Douglas and he must meet prepared.'
Then right-hand wheeled their steeds, ana straight
They won the castle's postern gate.
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CANTO V.J
THE COMBAT.
XX.
'25
The Douglas, who had bent his wavr
From Cambus-Kenneth's abbey ^a^v
Now, as he climbed the rocky shel/'
A nrjinn ^.^''"^."^y ^ears could frame-
A Tl^"^*^^'^^ *^e noble Grsme '
And fiery Roderick soon will fTef
The vengeance of the royal steel
h only I, can ward their fate-!
5r ?u\" * *^^ ^^nsom come not hte »
_-Be pardoned one repining tear f '"~~
And now my business is-to die.
Af,,"" 'he noblest ofte1r„d "''' ^°""'''
PreoarP fnt r? ,' "° nameless tomb
Makes .he F.L^^^Sf ste?p e^^, ?"'
James will be therp • ^1 1 ^ to-day.
Where the Vnr!^ ' ^^ ^P""^^ ^uch show.
Whose force so offTn^i;''"''"'' ''y'^^^>
His bo,ish^:„re^',rdTo%^;a?s^f'
, is
rei?''-
ss
126 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
XXL
* The Castle gates were open jflung,
The quivering drawbridge rocked and run"-,
And echoed loud the flinty street *
Beneath the courser's 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,
VKi';> V Doffipg his cap to city dame,
' yiP ^'"'^^^ ^^^ blushed for pride and shame.
And well the simperer might be vain —
. He chose the fairest of tlie train.
Gravely he greets each city sire,
Commends each pageant's quaint attire,
Gives to the dancers thanks aloud,
And smiles and noes upon the crowd,
Who rend the heavens with their acclaims,
* Long live the Commons' King, King James V
Behmd the King thronged pti^V and knight,
And noble dame and damsel bright,
Whose fiery steeds ill brooked the stay
Of the steep street and crowded way.
— But in the train you might discern
Dark lowering brow and visage stern ;
There nobles mourned their pride restrained,
And the mean burgher's joys disdained ; '"
And chiefs, who, hostage for their clan.
Were each from home a banished man.
There thought upon their own grav tower,
Their waving woods, their feudal power.
And deemed themselves a shameful part
Of pageant which they cursed in heart.
XXIL
Now,"in the Castle-park, drew out »
Their chequered bands the joyous rcaiX
There morricers, with bell at heel,
And blade in hand. tIi«M»- irm,
- - - -...—J .--*.-.. •it%^f
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CANTO v.]
THE COMBAT.
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But chief, beside the butts, there stand
Bold Robin Hood and all his band—
S?^o^"^^ ^'^^ quai^tfiC&taff and cowl,
Old Scathelocke with his surly scowl.
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 I>ouglas take
A silver dart, the archer's stake ;
Fondly he watched, with watery eye,
Some answering glance of sympathy^
No kind emotion made reply !
Indifferent as to archer wi^t, V.'■Tv,rv^a
The monarch gave the arrow bright.
XXIII.
Now, clear the ring] for, hand to hand,
1 he manly wrestlers take their stand.
Two o'er the rest superior rose.
And proud demanded mightier foes,
Nor called in vain ; for Douglas came.
--For life is Hug.lxof Larbert lame i
S^J'"ce better lohji^ Alloa's fare, 1 M.^viNTvS
Whom senseless home his comrades bear.
j^rize 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 suppressed;
Indignant then he turned him where
Their arms the brawny yeomen bare,
To hurl the massive bar in air.
When each his utmost strength had shewn.
The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone
From its deep bed, then heaved it high,
^^ Scut tag fragment through the sky,
127
i
4
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128 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
A road beyond the farthest mark ;
And still m Stirling's royal pajpk,
The gray-haired sires, who know the past,
To strangers point the Douglas-cast,
And moralise on ihe 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, bestowed
A purse well filled with pieces broad.
Indignant smiled the Douglas proud,
And threw the gold among the crowd,
Who now, with anxious wonder, scan,
And sharper glance, the dark gray man ;
Till whispers rose among the throng.
That heart so free, and hand so strong,
Must to the Douglas blood belong ;
The old men marked and shook the head,
To see his hair with silver spread,
And winked aside, and told each son
Of fe^ upon the English done.
Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand
Was exiled from his native land.
The women praised his stately form.
Though wrecked by many a winter's storm;
The youth with awe and wonder saw Ov>,
His strength surpassing Nature's law. N '
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 called the banished man to mind ;
No, not from those who, at the chase,
Once held his side the honoured 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 !
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THE COMBAT.
XXV.
12^
The Monarch saw the gambols flag,
And bade let loose a gallant stag,
Whose pride, the holS^ay to cr^jAvn, "'\^^^.K
Two favourite greyhounds should pull down,
That venison free and Bordeaux 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 antlered piiey, y. . ^kuyvv.
Sunk her sharp muzzle in his fla^k, ^ '"^^^'^'^
And deep the flowing life-blood drank.
The Kmg's stout huntsman saw the sport
By strange intruder broken short,
Came up, and, with his leash unbound,
In anger struck the noble hound.
r-T'ie Douglas had endured, that morn,
The Kmg'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
Uf Lufra, Ellen's image came.
His stifled wrath is brimming high.
In darkened brow and flashing eye •
As waves before the b^j^ divide, r>fs- yKWvA'^'^^K
The crowd gave way before his stride; V '^
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 clamoured loud the royal train,
And brandished swords and staves amaio.
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130
II
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto V^
But stem the Baron's warning — ' Back I
Back on your lives, ye memafpack ! ^v.^'j -
Beware the Douglas. Yes ! behold, t
King James ! Tlie Douglas, doomed of old,
And vainly sought for near and far,
A victim to atone the war,
A willing victim now attends.
Nor craves thy grace but for his friends.'
' Thus is my clemency repaid ?
Presumptuous Lord ! ' the Monarch said ;
* Of thy 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 1
Give the offender fitting ward, —
Break off the sports ! ' — for tumult rose.
And yeoman 'gan to bend their bows —
* Break off the sports ! ' he said< and frowned,
* And bid our horsemen clear the ground.'
xxvn.
Then uproar wild and misarray
Marred the fair form of festal day.
The horsemen pricked amon^ the crowd,
Repelled 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 the rear in thunder pour
The rabble with disordered roar.
With grief the noble Douglas saw
The Commons rise against the law,
And to the leading soldier said —
* Sir John of Hyndford ! 'twas my blade
That knighthood on thy shoulder laid;
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THE COMBAT.
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For that good deed, permit me then
A word with these misguided men.
' XXVIII.
• HeTe, gentle friends ! ere yet for me,
Ye break the bands of fealty.
My hfe, my honour, and my cause,
I tender free to Scotland's laws.
Are these so weak as must require
1 he aid of your misguided ire .?
JJr, if I suffer causeless wrono-,
Is then my selfish rage so strong.
My sense of public weal so low, /
1 hat, for mean vengeance on a foe.
Those cords of love I should unbind, 4 .
Which knit my count»y and my kind? /»/v/a/ /L/
Oh no ! Believe, in yonder tower^ d^^W6./V
'Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid
These loose banditti stand arrayed.
The Earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune,
To break their muster marched, and soon
Your grace will hear of battle fought ;
But earnestly the Earl besought,
Till, from such danger he provide,
With scanty train you will not ride/
XXXII.
'Thou warn'st me I have done amiss—
I should ' ve earlier looked to this :
I lost it in this bustling day.
— Retrace with speed thv 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 pcisoper by a knight;
And Douglas hath himselt and cause
Submitted to our kingdom's laws.
The tidfngs of their leaders lost
Will soon dissolve the mountain host,
Nor would we that the vulgar feel,
For their Chief's crimes, avenging steel.
Bear Mar our message, Braco ; fly ! '
He turned his steed—' My liege, I hie-
Yet, ere I cross this lily lawn,
I fear the broadswords will be drawn.'
The turf the flying courser spurned,
And to his towers the King returned.
XXXIiI.
Ill with King James's mood that day.
Suited gay feast and minstrel lay ;
Soon were dismissed the courtly throng,
And soon cut short the festal song.
Nor leas upon the saddened town
The evening sunk in sorrow down.
The burghers spoke of civil iar.
Of rumoured feuds and mountain war,
-^
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i34 tkfe LADY OF THfe LAKE. [cAN^b V.
Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, n
All up in arms :--the Douglas too, ^^(J^*^-^^^^'''*^
They mourned him pent within the hold
' Whei-G stout Earl William was of old.'
And thoro 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 pressed ;
And busy talkers said they bore
Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore ;
At noon the deadly fray begun,
Ahd lasted till the set of sun.
Thus giddy rumour shook the town,
Till closed the Night her pennons brown.
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CANTO SIXTH.
®l)e (Sttarb-fioom.
I.
T"n/!l"' 5^^^ej^Jng. through the smoky air
X Of the dark city casts a sullen glance.
Rousing etch caitiff to his task of caPe. \
Of sinful man the sad inheritance ; «,
Summoning revellers from the lagging danc^'
Scaring the prowling robber to his Sen ; '
Gilding on battled to-.ver the warder's lance
AnH luT-""? '^""^^"^ P^^^ to leave his pei,
And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nuVse of men.
What various scenes, and, O ! what scenes of woe
Are witnessed by that red and struggling beTm'
The fevered patient, from his pallet low, ^M '
Tht .?"^^ ""'"^^^^ ^°'P^*^^ be-holds its strlam ;
^/"ITl^ "'^'^^'^ trembles at its gleam, ' a ,^
The debtor wakes to thought of |yve and jail P '
The love-lorn wretch starts from to?ienting dream- ^
_The wakeful mother, by the ^limmerin^ ^Z '
xxnu. ncr sicK infant's couch, and soothe! .is feeble wail.
135
k
i3^ tttE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi
IL
At dawn the towers of Stirling rang
With soldier-step and weapon-clang,
While drums, with rolling note, foretell
Relief to weary sentinel.
Through narrow loop and casement barred
The sunbeams sought the Court of Guard, r, ,
And, struggling with the smoky air,
Deadened the torches' yellow glare.
In comfortless alliance shone
The lights through arch of blackened stone,
And shewed wild she -tes in garb of war,
Faces deformed with oeard and scar.
All haggard from the midnight watch.
And fevered with the stern debauch ;
For the oak, table's massive board.
Flooded with wine, with fragments stored.
And beakers drained, and cups o'erthrown,
Shewed in what sport the night had flown.
* (Some, weary, snored on floor and bench ;
sSome laboured still their thirst to quench ;
^ome, chilled with watching, spread their hands
O'er the huge chimney's dying brands,
While round them, or beside them flung,
At every~slep tlieir harness rung.
in.
These drew not for their fields the sword,
Like tenants of a feudal lord.
Nor owned the patriarchal claim,
Of Chieftain in their leader's name;
Adventurers they, from far who roved,
^«i. rtAl»^'^° ^^^^ ty battle, which they loved.
WV«Wf There the Italian's clouded face,
The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace ;
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 shewed French and German name;
And merry England's exiles came.
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CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM
To share, with ill-concealed disdain,
Of Scotland's pay the scanty gain.
All brave in arms, well trained to wield
. The heavy halberd, brand, and shield ;
In camps licentious, wild, and hold j
In pillage fierce and uncontrolled ;
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,
rheir hands oft grappled * their swords ;
Nor sufllj^ their tone to spare the ear
Of wounded comrades groaning near,
Whose mangled limbs, and bodies gored,
Bore token of the mountain sword,^"^""^
^>V^'«4>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,
In host a hardy mutineer,
Bat still the boldest of the crew,
When deed of danger was to do.
He grieved, that day, their games cut short,
And marred the dicer's brawling sport,
. . 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.
soldier's song.
Our vicar still nreachfis th^it P^fAr ^n/^ P/n„u
4-aid a swmgmg long curse on the bonny brown bowl,
A^>fJif^
138 THE J.ADY OF THE .AKE. [canto vj.
That there's wrath and despair in the jolly black-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 infange 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 1
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, gray and scarred.
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 roared :— ' 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 sharn i
Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp! "
.
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CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM.
Get thee an ape, and trudge the land
1 he leader of a juggler band.'
vir.
No, comrade ; no such fortune mine.
After the fight these sought our line,
That aged harper and tiie girl, I
And, having audience of the Earl, ^J/^
Nar bade I should purvey them steed, I
And bring them hitherward with speed. ^
* orbear your mirth and rude alarm,
For none shall do them shame or harm.'
Hear ye his boast ? ' cried John of lirent,
li-ver to strife and jangling bent ;
'Shall he strike doe beside our lodo-e
And yet the jealous niggard grud<'e '
To pay the forester his tee ? "^
ril 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, tiiough unfit for strife,
Laid hand upon his dagger-knife ;
But Ellen boldly stepped between,
And dropped at once the tartan screen :
bo, from his morning cloud, appears
The sun of May, through summer tears.
Ihe savage soldiery, amazed.
As on descended angel gazed ;
Even hardy Brent, abashed and tamed,
btood half admiring, half ashamed.
VIII.
Boldly she spoke—' Soldiers, attend:
Mv father was the soldier's friend ;
Cheered him in camps, in marches led,
And with him in the battle bled.
Not from the valiant, or the strong.
Should exile's daughter suffer wrong.'
x^nswercd De Breut, most forward still
In every feat or good or ill—
»39
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ii
140
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi.
< I shame me of the part T played :
And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid I
An outlaw I by forest laws,
And merry Nccdwooil knows the cause.
Poor Rose— if Rose be livinj^ now,*
He wiped his iron eye and brow,
*Must bear such age, I think, as thou.
Hear ye, my mates ;— I go to call
The Captain of our watch to hall :
There lies my halbert on the Jioor ;
And he that steps my halbert o'er,
To do the maid injurious part,
My shaft shall quiver in his heart ! —
Beware loose speech, or jestinji: rouijh :
Ye all know John Ue Brent. Enough.'
5
IX.
Their Captain came, a gallant young -
(Of TulUbardine's house he sprung),
Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight ;
Gay was his mien, his humour light,
And, though by courtesy controlled.
Forward his speech, his bearing bold.
The high-born maiden ill could brook
The scanning of his curious look
And dauntless eye ;~-and yet, in sooth,
Young Lewis was a generous youth ;
But Ellen's lovely face and mien,
111 suited to the garb and scene.
Might lightly bear construction strange,
And give loose fancy scope to range.
* Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid !
Come ye to seek a champion's aid,
On palfrey white, with harper hoar, ^^.^k-<^ .^.^
Like errant damosel of yore ? .v-*** (J
Does thy high quest a knight require, ' • - ' '
Or may the venture suit a squij:e ? ' —
Her dark eye flashed ;— she paused and sighed— -7
« O what have I to do with pride !— J'
Throu*''h s*'-^nes of sorrow shame and sirifej "
A suppliant for a father's life,
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Rph!lu ? '?"^j^"ce of the King. /ua^V
Behold, to back my suit, a ring.
The royal pledge of grateful claims
Given by the Monarch to f itz-James.'
X.
Wifh^iS"^*"""^ y°""^ Lewis took,
Tnd said P I'tV-^""^ ^^''''^ ^°«k ;
^ Tn c ^ . 1 '^"' '^ *° ^^'■t'^ unknown,— 7
^ In semblance mean obscurely veiled/
/ Lady, m aught my folly faiJed. f
Soon as the day flings wide his gates
The King shall know what suitof wal'fs
Please you, meanwhile, in ffttin^ bower
Repose you till his waking hour^-
Female attendance shall obey '
Your h^st, for service or array. K.cUJr
Permit I marshal you the wJ} ^^""^
AnH T '^^ f«"owed, wi^th the grace
Qi? i''^^^^^""*^ °^ her race, ^
She bade her slender purse be shar^rl
Among the soldiers of the gSard '^
lutBrl7'\'l'^l^' their futrdon took;
^ut Bren , with shy and awkward look
On the reluctant maiden's hold '
Forced bluntly back the proffered o-old •
aJIII ^ ^"Vghty Engfch hear ," '
And O forget its ruder part !
The vacant purse shall be my share
Which in my barj^t-c^ap PIl iLar ^,
Perchance m jeopardy of war, ^^
Where gayer crests may keep afar '
XI.
When Ellen forth with Lewis went
.15f"li2^.^_\ry? John of Brent:!
i'Jj lod^ safe, O let your frrace
Uive me to see my mas ter's face J
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142 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi.
His minstrel I — to share his doom
Bound from the crnd'e to the tomb.
Teath in desc< . . -la.; i'rst my sires
WaTced for h' , i-ti* ;;ouse their lyres,
Nor one of all the race was known -
^ jQllt prized lis weal above their own.
• V ' \ With the Chief's birth begins our care ;
Our harp must soothe the infant heir,
Teach the youth tales cf fight, nnd /race
His earliest feat of field or chase ;
In peace, in war, our rank we keep,
We cheer his board, we soothe his sleep,
\ ^ Nar Jeave him till we pour our verse —
A doleful tribute ! — o'er his hearse.
Then let me share his captive lot ;
It is my right — deny it not ! ' —
* Little we reck,' said John of Brent,
^ * We southern men, of long descent ;
'»^. <■ Nor ^t we how a name — a word — ^ .^^^ha
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 an outcast here. \?;,v ;^'
Come, good old Minstrel, follow mef
Thy Lord and Chieftain shait thou see. '
V
XIL
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 passed, where, deep within.
Spoke prisoner's moan, and f tters' din ;
Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored,
Lay wheel, and axe, and headsman's sword.
And many an hideous engine grim,
For wrenching joint, and crushing limb,
By artisriormed, who deemed it shame
CANTO VI.] THE GUAKD-ROOM.
U3
They halted at a low-browed porch.
Aiid Brent to Allan gave the torch,
While bolt and chain he backward rolled
And made the bar unhasp its hold. '
They entered .—'twas a prison-room
Of stern sefiunty and gloom,
Yet not a dungeon ; for the day
Through lofty gratings found its wav.
And rude and antique garniture Y ' /*^n^^Vx^
Decked the sad walls and oaken floiDr "^^
Such 4s the rugged days of old / I
Deemed £t for captive noble's hold. iMU qiM^XI e\}
Jill the Leech visit him again, v
Strict IS his ch^arge, the warders tell,
i o tend the noble prisoner well ' ^ ^
Retiring then the bolt he drew "
And the lock's murmurs growled anew.
Roused at the sound, from lowly bed
A captive feebly raised his head ;
The wondering Minstrel looked, and knew-
Not his dear Lord, but Roderick Dhu '
I'h^J'T^- ^'''!? "^^^L^ Clan-Alpine fought,
/They, erring, deemed the Chief he sou|ht'
xin.
As the tall Jiip, whose lofty pi:pre e^v>N>^
Shall never stem the billov/s more
Desertea by her gallant band,
Amid the breakers lies astrand—
So, on his couch, lay Roderick Dhu !
And oft his fevered limbs he threw
In toss abrupt, as^vhen her sides ■
Lie rocking in the advancing tides,
Ihat shr m
146
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THE LAWi OF THE LAKE. Ccanfo vi
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XVI.
* Their light-armed n'-chers far and near
Surveyed the tangled ground,
Their centre ranks, with pike and spear,
A twilight forest frowned,
Their barbed horsemen, in the rear,
The stern battalia crowned.
No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang,
Still were the pipe and drum ;
Sajtf 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 seemed to quake,
That shadowed o'er their road.
Their itajaivard scouts no tidings bring,
Can rouse no lurking foe.
Nor spy a trace of living thing.
Save when they stirred the roe ;
The host moves, like a deep-sea wave,
Where rise no rocks its pride to brave.
High-swelling, dark, and slow.
The lake is passed, and now they gain
A narrow and a broken plain.
Before the 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 pealed the banner-cry of hell !
Forth from the pass in tumult driven,
Like chaff before the wind of heaven.
The archery appear :
For life ! for life ! their plight they ply —
And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry,
And plaids and bonnets waving high,
And broadswords flashing to the slcy,
Are maddening in the rear.
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Onward they drive, in dreadful ruce,
J^ursuers and pursued ;
Before that tide of flight and chase,
How shall It keep its rooted place,
« rV spearmen's twilight wood ?—
Down down," cried Mar, "your lances down !
Bear back both friend and foe ! "
Like reeds before the tempest's frown,
1 hat serried grove of hnces brown
At once lay levelled low ;
And closely shouldering side to side,
« w ?,V^*^'",f ?"^^ ^^^ onset bide.
We II quell the savage mountaineer
As their Tinchel cows the game I
\7 mPT^ ^^ ^^*^t as forest deer,
We 11 drive them back as tame."
XVIII.
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'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 beiow ;
And with the ocean's mighty swing.
When heaving to the tempest's wing.
They hurled them on the foe.
I heard the lance's shivering crash.
As when the whirlwind rends the ash •
I heard the broadsword's deadly clang.
As if an huBdifid anvils rang ! ^' v^#^'
But Moray wheeled his rearward rank
Uf horsemen on Clan-Alpine's flank
T ■"■ *,rf y banner-man, advance !
I see, he cried " their column shake.
Now, gallants ! for your ladies' sake
J-^PO ■ u. , wi .h the lance ! "— - '
The horse.h,en dashed among the rout
As de- - break through the broom f
Their steeds are stout their swords are out.
They soon make lightsome room. ^
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148 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi.
Clan-Alpine's best are backward borne —
Where, where was Roderick then !
One blast upon his bugle-horn
Were worth a thousand men.
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150 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vx.
For rownl him showered, 'mid rain and hail,
The vengeful arrows of the Gael.—
In vain. — He nears the isle—and lo !
Hi.s hand is on a shallop's bow.
— Just then a flash of lightning came,
It tinged tlie waves and strand wiili (lame; —
I marked Duncraggan's widowed d; ine,
Behind an oak I saw her stand,
A naked dirk gleamed in her hand : —
It darkened — but amid the moan
Of waves I heard a dying groan ; —
Another flash ! — the spearman floats
A weltering corse beside the boats, ^
And the stern Matron o'er him stood, %L
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Her hand and dagger streaming blooi
« 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 £i;prff liis horse, and, from a crag.
Waved 'tvixt the hosts a milk-white flag.
Clarion and trumpet by his side
Rung forth a truce-note high and wide,
While, in the Monarch's name, afar
A herald's voice forbade the war.
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 I—
Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy
How Roderick brooked his minstrelsy :
At first, the Chieftain, to the chime.
With lifted hand, kept feeble time ;
That motion ceased — yet feeling strong
Varied his look as changed the song ;
At length, no more his deafened ear
The minstrel melody can hearj
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His face grows sharp—his hands are clenched
As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched ;
Set are his teeth, his fading eye
Is sternly fixed on vacancy ;
Thus, motionless, and moanless, drew
His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu !—
Old Allan-bane looked on aghast,
While griip and st^his spirit passed ;
But when he saw that life was fled,
He poured his wailing o'er the dead.
xxn.
. LAMENT.
* And art thou cold and lowly laid,
Thy foemen's dread, thy people's aid,
Breadalbane's boast, Clan-Alpine's shade<*/
For thee shall none a r equiem say ? j,/ /,
* — For thee — who loved the minstrel's lay^
For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay.
The shelter of her exiled line,
E'en in this prison-house of thine, m^
I'll wail for Alpine's honoured Pine !^>,
* What groans shall yonder valley.' ^11 !
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 breaches not clansman of thy line,
But would have given his life for thine.--
A woe for Alpine's honoured Pine !
* Sad was thy lot on mortal stage ! —
The captive thrush may brook the cage.
The prisoned eagle dies for rage.
Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain !
And, when its notes awake again,
Y 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 honoured Pine,'
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«$• THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi,
XXIIL
Ellen, the while, with bursting heart
Remained in lordly bov/er apart,
Where played, with many-coloured jrieams,
rhrough storied pane the rising beams.
In vam on gilded roof tliey fall,
And lightened up a tapestried wall,
And for her use a menial train
A rich collation spread in vain.
The banquet proud, the chamber gay,
Scarce drew the curious glance astrav ;
Or, if she looked, 'twas but to say, '
With better omen dawned 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 meai her care prepared,
While Lufra, crouching by her side,
Her station claimed with jealous pride.
And Douglas, bent on woodland game.
Spoke of tin chase to Malcolm Gr^me.
Whose answer, oft at random made
The wandering of his thoughts betrayed.-
Those who such simple joys have known,
Are taught to prize them when they're ijoae.
But sudden, see, she lifts her head ! *
1 he window seeks with cautious tread.
What distant music has the power
To win her in this woeful hour !
Twas from a turret that o'erhung
Her latticed bower, the strain was suns.
XXIV.
LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN.
'li^^^ij^^^^ '^ ^'''^^ of perch and hood.
My idle greyhound loathes his food,
My horse is weary of his stall.
And I am sick of captive thxall.
I wish I were as I have been,
Hunting the hart in forest green,
/
'hj ,h
y£<^*C
^m'CAi/i/J ,K\J
Her faltering steps half led, half staid* yWij^
Through gallery fair andliigh arcade, '
Till, at his touch, its wings of pride
A portal arch unfolded wide.*
XXVI.
Within 'twas brilliant all and lig|it,
A thronging scene of figures l)right ;
It glowed on Ellen's dazzled sight,
As when the setting sun has given
Ten thousand hues to summer even,"
And from their tissue, fancy frames
Aedal 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 owned this state.
The dreaded prince whose will was fate !—
She gazed on many a princely port, ••
Might well have ruled a royal court;
On many a splendid garb she gazed —
Then turned bewildered and amazed,
For all stood bare ; and. in the room,
Fitzjames 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 !
i>/
y
/
"i^
XXVIL
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 \
/%^// '/\>pud
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Thus watch I o'er insulted laws, I
Thus learn to right the injured cause.' — ,
Then, in a tone apart and low,
— ' Ah, little trait'ress ! none must know
What idle dream, what lighter thought,
"What vanity full dearly bought, -
Toined to thine eye's dark witchcraft, drew
My spell-bound steps to Iknvenuc,
In dangerous hour, and all but gave
Thy Monarch's life to mountain glaive I*
Aloud he^spoke — ' Thou still dost hold
That little talisman of gold,
Pledge of my faith, Fitz-James's ring —
"What seeks fair Ellen of the King?'
XXIX.
Full well the conscious maiden guessed,
He probed the weakness of her breast ;
But, with that consciousness, there came
A lightening of her fears for Grjeme,
And more slie deemed 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 partin"; 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 1 —
Hast thou no other boon to crave ?
No other captive friend to save ? '
Blushing, she turned her from the King,
Aud to the Douglas gave the ring,
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CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM.
As if she wished her sire to speak
The suit that stained 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 kneeled the Cirxiiie to Scotland's Lord.
' For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues.
From thee may Vengeance claim her dues,
Who, nurtured underneath, our smile,
Hast i)aid our care by treacherous wile,
And sought, amid thy faithful clan,
A refuge for an outlawed man,
Dishonouring thus thy loyal name. —
I Fetigrs and warder for the (/ra.'me ! '
,^ Hiscliain 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.
'S*
i
I irfliX
Harp of the North, farewell ! The hills grow dark,
On purple peaks a deeper shade descending ;
In twilight copse the glow-worm lights htr 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 ves]5ers blending,
With distant echo from the fold and lee, /,., ^^,
And herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee.
Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp ! "
Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway,
Artd 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.
ixr^=« .-.
j_., 1
d;
Andjjitterer was th(
;f
alone.
iy>
^ devoured
That iVerlive such woes, Enchantress ! is thine own.
■.;*
^5^
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi.
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,
A. 'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing.
^^/^ Receding novvf, 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 !
'M'
u^y
^4^
,Pi^oetry^ and especially of Scott's poetry,
is well obtained by selecting particular objects instead of making general
statements, as the witclw/wi, Saint Fillan's Spring, ivy, etc.
(7.)— Envious Ivy, if i\\c metaphor were expanded, would probi;bly lie
oblixHon, Personal metaphor is the name given to this habit of attiib-
uting human qualities to objects in nature.
(8.) — Alliteration An vv. 3, 6 and 8 ; and v. 7 is a good example of
harmony of lani^uniie, so also is v. 3,
(9-)— Thy sweeter sounds is a poetic condensation, and " sounds keep*
ing silence " is only allowable in jioctry.
(10.) — Warrior and maid refer to war, love and affection, — circumstances
of the greatest /<7rf6S
7-— This c;ivcs us a close view of the now wearied hunt. The efforts
of dotjs and deer are well painted ; v. 6. is a fine example of harmony.
Desperate ami vindictive arc stront' and sug^^estive words.
^ Scourge and tteel, and itock and nck, are used for poetic effect ;
tlie foinicr has the assoiintcd effect of vtetonymy, the latter rvw-
lv ii/c'it/isfif Iruiu the historiral chi\ractor nt jan\.'s \'. The
stuilont will not fail to notice the ^vu't's pcculiaiitv of Kivinij a //<7i«r-
fsi/ui" sHrft/t of each person as he is introduced. He should also rom^>arc
tlie picture of each, and classify their respective (pialities. Their actions
and sentiments throughout should hiirmonizi- with the sketches, t.'har-
actors in liction should l>e well ifi-fincd, well sustaiufiiwvX varieti, as well
as fhtfitm/ and tOttsisUnt. The character here };iven of James V.,
resembles thr* vjivcn of James IV. in Marmion, v. <>.
2J.~0f the hill is one of those phrases used Ut fdl up the line, anen. A true luintsman, though, would have taken his dogs
into the lH>at ; perhaps this also is a characteristic negligence. Frequent
and until arc not the words wanted.
26.— The description of the outside of the lodge is here given, each
particular is shown, and the scene is gracefully changed to the inside.
27. — This gives us the inside of the lodge hung with trojihies of war
or the chase! The circumstance of the sword dropping is borrowed
fror,; old legends, and is used for poetic effect further on.
2S.— The immense sire of the sword reminds him of l^ouglas. but it
would mar the storv to mention him here. Ellen, in her answer, keeps
up the idea that she is a " fay in fairy-land," and is prcHeeted bv a giant
as large as Ferragus' (from Orlando Furioso), or Ascabart (from Hcvis
of Hampton), two heroes of chivalry.
a<).— V. 6.— Ellen treated the lady as her mother, though that rela-
tionship ditl not exist between then\ ; she was Ellen's aunt.
The allusion to Highland hospitality is pleasing.
The rank and title now given mislead the readers as well as those in
the story.
CANTO 1.] NOTES— THE CHASE.
169
Barren heritage. Owins to tl.c power of the nol)lc8, tiie royal power
was weak. ^ f w
Nit lire had fallen. James IV. invaded F.riRland and perished with
most of his nobles in the battle of Floddcn Field.
.10.— Innocently gay. A pleasing feature in Kllen. She still keeps up
tlu; allusion to tairy-land, and, innocent of all vanity, sinRs as the bird
sinus ; but we have still another surj)rise when Allan, or some other
viewless minstrel, "JilUxl uji the symphony.''
31.— .Scott had great narrative powers, and " knew every wile" to
cam our ear. 'I'o assist him in his story he adopted the tetrameter
line witii all the irregularity of the old minstrelsy ; and as an additional
charm, he threw in many beautiful little sonj^sj written in imitation of
the ballad in various nu-tres. 'Ibe trodiaic metre in this one adds a
variety by the very change, and is bright and cheerful, hut it is more
usual to write such (piietinR sonss in iambics, as that foot suits slow
music. Perhaps, however, it is more in hormony with KUen's assumed
character of a fairy to have the metre most suitable for WghU airy, rapid
music. The sonij is very beautiful, as, indeed, are most of his lyrical
pieces ; they breathe the intensity of Scott's own feelings,
32.— We liavc a prodij^y in Ellen, who here ajipears in the new role of
an improvisinu; nnnstrcl. This is rather improbable, even for romantic
poetry, but such poetical power is, however, said to be found in South-
ern Euroi)e.
Where the near sun
Gives with unstinted boon clhiic.il flame,
Where the rude villaBei , his labour done,
In verse .spontaneous chants .some favourite name.— Scott.
. 33- — This dream is a good example of Scott's invention and descrip-
tion. It is finely imai^infil, and comes in naturally after tlie excitement
of the day. Dreams and omens should not be introduced without due
regard to the unity of the story. This one could certainly be tolerated on
accoimt of its intrinsic beauty and pathetic force, but it also arouses
our curiosity by throwini,' an air of mystery round the people of the
island. It shadows forth the part Fitz-James takes m the story ;
hints at his affection for, and estrangement from, the Douglas; and,
moreover, its fultilmcnt afterwards is an additional pleasure to the
reader. It also gives a melancholy and thoughtful close to the canto.
34.— The dusky lustre of the flickering lire, dimly revealing the un-
couth trophies ami the huge sword to the awakened stranger, is well con-
ceived. 'J'he sword naturally connects itself with the dream, and the
stranger cannot banish the crowding thoughts.
S^
M
35. — In th.e openin!- lines we have an cxquisitp moonlight view in
fine contrast with the troubled stranger, who seeks rest from its peaceful-
ness, and
' He felt its calm, that warrior guest.'
^ i!
170
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto 11.
Then we are told that the brand he thought of was that of the Doug-
las, that Ellen has the Douglas eye, and his dream has just been of
the Douglas. Our curiosity is thus keenly aroused, and we long for the
second canto. This is one of the expedients of narrators of stories, to
keep the attention on the alert.
One of the best excrci*" :- in composition is obtained by writing con-
densed accounts of a work read. In this the merit consists in catching
the chief objective points and making them prominent. Without a
thorough acquaintance with the work, this is impossible ; hence, synop-
ses are frequently asked for at examinations. In this canto the chief
points are as follows ; their peculiarities have already been pointed
out :— The introduction, the chase, the hunter's dilemma and the
description of the country, the sudden appearance of the " Lady
of the Lake," the personal portrait of Ellen and the huntsman,
the lodge, the song and the dream.
We have now two of the characters introduced and described and
a romantic and mysterious interest thrown round the people in the
Island.
CANTO n.
The division into cantos ssrves to relieve the monotony, and adds to
the definiteness and simplicity of the plan of narrative ; this effect is in-
creased by limiting each canto to a day's performance.
I. — The introductory stanzas give a picture of the departure of the
stranger far more animated than any narration could give.
2. — The presence of white-haired Allan Bane gives a romantic interest
to the story. His dreams, visions, forebodings, fidelity, and affection raise
us out of our every-day thoughts, and take us back to the golden time
of yore. The student should remember that it was Scott's ambition to
be a minstrel. In the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," he himself is the
minstrel playing to his feudal " chiefs," the Earl and Countess Dalkeith.
Feudal fidelity was a religion with him. Imitating Coleridge, he makes
use of a great variety of metre in the songs he throws in, which, of
course, adds to the variety of the poem. Allan seems to surmise that
the stranger is some great personage in disguise. His song shows that
he is probably thinking of the exiled Douglas, and the want of gratitude
in the King, though he merely makes a general statement in the simile
suggested by the flashing of the or.rs. It must be remembered, how-
ever, that it is a peculiarity of Scott's to draw a melancholy sentiment
from his circumstances in nature.
The metaphor in the third stanza is very fine, but, of course, not
original.
4. — The picture of the sad old Harper here is drawn with true poetic
genius. The scenery is made to harmonize by putting in the otd
flighted tree, and the calmness of the morning.
It is one of those
CANTO II.] NOTES— THE ISLAND.
171
happy strokes of invention that the true poet knows how and when to
throw in. We will see that this quiet morning contrasts with the
stirnng events of the day, and the angry dispute in the evening.
The death-like stillness is emphasized by the similitude to the dead,
and by the anaphora. '
/^^^?^^ ^"•1^'^'^. ^'^"^^ *'^^* *'*® Po^*' "Stead of narrating the cause
ot tllen s smile, introduces vivacity by answering a supposed reason
(proiepsis) by an inter rogation, by an exclamatory appeal to fidelity,
and finally by an appeal to the ladies, in the figure anacoenosis (i. e., an
appeal to the common opinion ot those addressed).
^'~^X^, ^^"^ '^^'■^ ^'^^ beginning of the love interest. It would be most
powerful (as those concerned are the chief successful characters) if it
had been genuine and reciprocated ; but as it is neither, it chiefly serves
J ^"^,7 ""espective traits of the two persons : the stranger's /mj/v
andJicMe love and tnflucnce over the opposite sex, both historical, and
Ellen s momentary affection, followed by a sudden burst that makes us
aware of the true loz'c of the lay. In her ingenuous self-accusation, true
to her frank nature, she gives way to the revulsion of feeling, and for
a moment forgets her maiden modesty, and immediately blushes at it.
. 1 he love mterest in the story is very tame. Both Roderick and
Fitz-Tames sue for Ellen's hand; the former with vl fierce, lasting
/rrmtJ»,cs
01 Allan; (5.) The contrast of character ; (6.) Ellen's ha'/py, ionfi.
dtng, youthful nature,///a/ love and high spirit.
,* 4
V,
' *
111
Wn.
t72 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto ii.
p.— The two fine siniilitudes here are bcautiftiUnd natural.
10.— As herinrtS. This shows that illustrative laneiuee Is not alwav<
but liuV'V'r;;''^'' "^ ''^'^''"'""•''' "^^ "^"""^ by the^,£own°* It Sa
IS remarkable that Scott's humour never appears in his poems ^^ ^*
fK»"ir ^i'^ '^'''^''''. °^ ^""^ ^'='""'^'° Roderick's life, and his connection with
he Douglas are given here by Allan, and his e^il deeds Tustifv for tli^
time being, Ellen's rejection of hmi. It will be noticed. Is w^dvance
chLfta'n.""' *^'''"'''^^ ^'''^'''^ ^"^ ^^P^"'^^ by this LrnildabS
couft td witSf^E! '"^' " "^"^ ^"'^ ^^'^^^'^ -- ^---' -'I
lini^".rj''fi'"7'*'^",^/ ^°,"'^ °^ *''« sentences here is awkward The
Ime," My blood, my hfe-but not my hand," is forcible Tnd las th^
14.— In ascertaining a character in fiction we must estimate nronprlv
the opinions of his associates ; here we have a vigo ^us /SS
Roderick, given by Ellen, which justifies her antipathy rhhif
<^nd'J;JltS'f r'?/ «"^'^"':^S%"'-ative language will alxjund. We
iZ%':^:r^ZS^r''' combined, m the linesrefemng to his vir-
1 j5-— We now see why the sword fell on the stranger's entrance to th^
he'twords'of "oT;"'*""1-^T^^ ^"'^ °"«"'" -« c 'mmor^opert - of
t'cSN?zo'?a.THrHf'^'T'.^.^c^ ^r- A^""'^'« "Excalihur,"
Homer. ' and Hrolf Kraka's " Skofiumg." It is also as old ks
Tlneman. Unlucky man. Archibald, 3d Earl of Douglas H*.fMtprl
at Homildon Hill by Hotspur; killed in France 142^-ScoVT^^^^^
fame. ''-S^oT?:''"'"^ *" ^'''- ""' " ^^"^^ '^^^ Hfe'since Snt is good
Self-unscabbarded is an awkward compound, and may have been
P.TPK'?.,''^^c?"'^""''''=^"*y ^'^'^ German. 'The event referred tS
lor soldt^rs' '"'^"■^^^^^'-y' Spears and bows are used Ey 'SS^^tZ
are soon'to see ''"''' '"'^''^'^'^ ^°' ^""'^'^^' e^i»bition of which wo
Canto II] NOTES— THE ISLAND,
173
16.— 1 he quiet scene is now broken into by the siiddett appearance of
the chieftain and his warriors. Their gradual approach Is given in a
few words. Tlic gay scene is proud with '« all the pomp and circum-
stance of war."
17. The highland pibroch is here described. This old martial music
represent^'d the various phases of the fight, and the poet, in describing
it m thes lies, makes use of the harmony of languaiie—i\\2X is, makes
the sound an echo of the sense. For the soft notes heard in the distance
we have Itqutds and slender xmvcls, as in mellowed, came, lin^erint:
long, bay, watled, away ; for rapidity we have, ra/>:d, * //licJb beat J bat-
tered tread ; for the sound of battle, ^o', j/;r»V/t, ward, jarred, t^roan-
tng, moan prolonged and low. ' All these show harmony, but there is
not much care taken to produce it by a skilful selection and ^rr?nge-
ment of words ; Scott's style was too hurried, and his ear too dull for
that,
*9;— Roderick certainly comes on the stage with great eclat, and we feel
that in him we are to recognize the chief Jigvre of the story. The " mar-
tial ditty" is the "gathering," and is in hsrmony with the "wild
cadence ; " its irregular metre, wild, half gaelic chorus, and fierce senti-
ments, are in uncouth harmony with the character of "Roderick Dhu.
The lines are dactylic, of various length, with double rhyme on the 1st
and 3d lines, made by dropping the last syllable of the dactyl ; the 2d
and 4th lines have only one syllable of the fourth foot. In the second
stanza the rhythm is made continuous bv completing the last foot of each
line by unaccented syllables at the beginning of the next. This, prob-
ably, iijiitates the regular "marching on." The emphatic words are
generally placed properly at the beginning ; and throughout, there is
the vigorous exultation of victory. The " ho I ieroe " at the end are
probably of the class of meanirtgless syllables that are frequently found
in old ballads and songs, and serve as a sort of symphony or accom-
paniment to the song. The pleasure derived from such sounds arises
from the attention being directed to the mere music, apart fiom the
thought, thus giving a pleasing variety.
20.— The evergreen pine was on the crest of Van Alpine.
The rosebud is Ellen.
2 1. —Scott always shows skill in conducting the narrative. Having
with him gazed on the rom-xntic and picturesque scene of the approach-
ing host, and listened to t^ . spirit-stirring song, it would be difficult to
interest us in further details, and he seeks other means of doing so. The
women flocking down with "loose tresses," "bare arms,'» an(l "shrill
acclaim," fill out ^^ picture, and give us an interesting circumstance in
old Celtic manners. We are reminded of Roderick's lox.i*
4. ^'
• ■i,
hi
176
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto iv
Homage is here used literally. It was a ceremony by which a tenant
ackn(i\vk'clj;cd himself to be thclord's "man" (homo).
Mountain — moor. These are mere phrases, their use beinpf allowable
in ballad poetry. Cf., also, •• tower and town," " on the hill," " hall and
bower,"
30,— Roderick's " blunt " proposal is characteristic, and in his ardour
he displays ^.Jierceness ih^i frightens Ellen, and justifies her in refusing
him. But his savage threat is in keeping with the vindictive nature of
the Highland character,
31— The long comparison here leaves us too long in doubt as to what
is coming, but it is, perhaps, in imitation of Ellen's amazement.
32, — Douglas shows his unwavering loyalty to, and fondness for, the
king, whom he only accuses of hasty wrath, caused by slanderous
tongues. This interrupted friendship and its renewal at the close is
one of the main threads in the plot.
Enough, enough. The cpizeuxis here has not much rhetorical force,
merely mdicatingTiaste.
Hectic is a teciinical word become popularized with a limited mean-
ing. It is properly an habitual disease (Greek hexis, habit), then habit-
ual or intermittent fever, then i\\t flush of fever, and ultimately any
flush.
33. — The opening simile is rather vague. The convulsive sobbing
of Roderick is quite in keeping with his passionate fiaiure, and we are
made to sympathize with him along with " eyes that mocked at tears
before," We feel the indiscretion^ of Graeme's conduct, and yet it ir
most natural, and hence interesting,
Nighted. Cf, " Nighted life."— A7«^ Lear. Verbs from nouns
simply, are frequent in poetry,
34. — A. powerful stanza ; the various characteristics of the men are
kept up. The fierce and hasty jealousy of Roderick is well shown, and
it IS a happy invention to restrain by " this roof, the Douglas, and
that maid," the undaunted chief who slew a knight in the very presence
of the king. Minion, Fr, mignon, a pet, Ger, minne, love, Cf. Mac-
beth, the "minions of their race," But like all favourites, it has fallen
into contempt, and now means a flatterer, a servile follower,
35. — The scornful sarcasm of Roderick and his haughty defiance of
" James Stuart " come in opportunely, when he speaks from wounded
vanity, An^ to his successful rival. Note that it is "Roderick" and
" James Stuart," he says. Malcolm's defiance of Roderick and abrupt
departure terminate the unseemly quarrel.
Nay. We have here the figure aposiopesis.
Find an hour. This threat contains more than is expressed.
Hour is a species of metonymy.
Henchman, a servant. Perhaps so called because he stood at his
haunch.
CANTO III.] NOTES— THE GATHERING. 177
36. — To the Wln4, 1.^., uttered. An unusual meaning of the phrase
37. — 6ivt the rnt to air in a similar phrase. Both are weak. Own,
aposiopesis ; he was evidently thinking of Ellen. Malcolm proposes to
find a shelter for Doui^las and Ellen among his own clan, though con-
trary to law. And Roderick has decided to raise his clan, so that we
have enough to stimulate our cuAosity as to the next canto.
CANTO III.
I. — The opening sentence constitutes a truism, i. e,, the sententious
expression of a well known truth in concise language. Its repetition at
the end is pleasing, and constitutes the figure ef'iinalepsis ; the con-
templation of the ceaseless course of time is pleasmg to us, as it is asso-
ciated with the grandeur of eternity and the vague terrors of death.
There is a melancholy shade thrown over the Whole stanza, which, to-
g3ther with the wondering boyhood and beautiful simile, fills the stanza
with the very essence of poetic feeling and imagination. Infanqf being
abstract, is not a happy word, as poetry seeks chiefly to give pleasure,
and hence avoids any difficult abstract ideas. The second stanza con-
nects the thought with the subject of the canto.
Field, etc. These words form a metonymy, place for people.
Yet live there who. A latinism frequently used in poetry. Cf. Lat.
sunt qui.
What time. Adverbial obj. of time = a relative adverb.
Kindred, *'. ^., of the clan.
Gathering lOund. A verbal noun used adjectively, as, gold ring. The
two words = a compound, like walking-stick, riding-coat, labouring-day,
— two nouns with the dative or genitive relation, /. e.y the souncfof or
for the " Gathering."
2. — This beautiful picture is drawn with the best poetic skill ; perhaps
no portion of the whole poem contains more poetic beauty.
Let us examine some of the means employed to render it so intensely
pleasing.
t. — The subject is pleasing, a bright mountain lake surrounded by
hills. The poet must show taste in the selection of his subjects — he
must evince a sensibility to the emotional effects of objects in nature.
Circu: stances introduced into poetry to give pleasure — the sole aim of
poetry— should be (i) intrinsically beautiful, or (2) should call up
pleasing associations, or (3) harmonize with plcasini^ feelings other-
wise arising. Here we have the summer dawn, the lake, the soft air,
the torrent, the forest, the mountain, the birds and flowers, each pleasing
in all three respects.
2. — It is mzde picturesque and real by mentioning.
(a) Concrete individuals — lake, trees, lily, doe and fawn, mist, lark,
etc.
(b), by mentioning the colour of the objects, as purple, blue, shadow,
bright, silver, gray mift, flecked, speckles.
(c)f by taking somt particular time, and telling the state or action of
k-4
L%
m^
>" -^'1
xyS
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto hi.
each individual at that time ; a vivid reality is thus given, as if the objects
were actually before the eye.
y—\i% Jiticlity to nature is pleasing. Poetry, like painting, is an
imitative art, and we value it according to the closeness of the iniita-
lion. Sometimes this is the only species of phasure sought to be pro-
duced by a painting or a poem ; such are said to belong to the realistic
school. Generally, however, sucii pleasure is only additional, as here.
4.— Our syiu/'athy with animals is awakened by the part tiiey per-
form. Warm sympathy witli and lmt the i\>se in this stanza is a ploasinj^ fancy,
and il is enhanced by |nittin< it in the nuuith of Norman, as ho takes
tlie iiwe as the emblem oi hope and love. The conversation is interest-
ing and aindenseil ; it abounds in pecidiar expressi.ms as, " Uuul ot
war," *4Hnme" (readv), ''the while •' (nvinnerism), "cloud" (mctrj,
'• bout " (turn>, " plaid " (lor warrior in his plaids.
a.— Tl>e object of" Ijiit^inij these twt^ on the staijc h«re is to give tts
many details wl\icl» would Iv? tetiious in a narrative.
4.— The interruption of Malise to descrilv the bull is a Hitfur.r/ fitm
in the dialogue. It is one of those *' osiiffx " that are occasionally
thn»w»\ in with jjreat etOct. We r-hare in the rlansjuan's joyful recol-
lection oi their raid ; but, perhaps, his description is to show us the sur-
|Mssii\jj excellence of this animal thus sacrihced. This would Ih« after
the numner ot the ancients.
I'he ii\culent here retailed is taken from the tradition of Uob Roy.
Ktrnes are li.s;lvt sv^Idiers. C"l.
"t>f Kerns and (.lallowslas.tes is supplied." -.^fa.Mk.
5.— Norman's comjwrison yti the hermit to a ghost or a raven causes
us to share in tho hUhmuv forelKHlinj^s it implies; but Malise refuses to
Ivlieve it, thus renvindiuj; us of the reverence in which the cl.in chief
was held.
Broils. Out up. a comnum word in tho old . 'j./.vr. The nnen comes
from the s.iu\e source.
6. —We feel but little terror at the " fearful .strife '* relatetl by the
Hermit, In spite of the terrible mystery thrown around his birth and
actions, his presence adds but little interest to the poeni, other than th.At
which we t.\ke in such quaint old rites. We see now the utili'y t^f
Ihian's mysterious birth: no w.v/.>/ could have endiired that terrible
ni<»ht : even Urian did it only in the extren\e danger of the clan to which
he oweil his only human tie.
The Tiophei-y is thus surroundeil by all the .f,'.Vw;«/Vv and truv ly^
fominj; st> tnomentinis a comminiication from tho spiritual worlil. This
sentiment, represented -here as the josponse oi the Tashairm, was really
a sui>erstitious l>eliof, fretiuentlv .ncted U|>i>n by the hivihlanders, as at
the battle of Tipjx'rnuH>r, where they murdered a defenceless shepherd
in orxicr to ensure victory.
".— The device of loadin;^; a single spy into ambush is not very happy.
It >s, however, the cause of many tluillini!; incidents.
KcHier-ck rvideru'v
Ui;t h;s iiun csucnts ; but when we
afterwartls learn that it is Fii.'-|.>nu\s who has come back to see Ellen,
ftt sec that Roderick was mistak.'n in considering him a spy. Wc arc
CANTO IV.] N0TES--T1IK I-ROPHECY;
'&i
not satisfied with tliis cruel charge of Roderick's, even against a spy.
and IwiLjiu to waver in our aileu;ii»iHe to him. Note that Murdock luiti
charge to lead him into unibush before tlie response was known.
8. — Here we have the " stern jov " of the warrior at approaching con-
flict well sliown ; but we are at a loss to know why Moray and Mar are
advancing on Roderick, nor do we learn till near the end of the fifth canto,
wlu-n we fintl that It was owinjj to a second nlisunderstjindini;. Rod-
erick c»)llects his clan in ilefence against a supposed aggression on tlie
part of tl)e king. And the royal troops march northward to prevent a
supposed aggressive niovement by Roderick. But Why, etc. This brings
us back to Roderick's hoiH>iess love, of which he is reminded by ti>e
mention of lover and maid ; his wonls are to show us that it w is not tl\e
tear of doidit or fe.ir. The olfect is rather weak, he himself lieing the
speaker. The sudilen, abrupt command is startliitir. The next three
lines form a trijilet. and are written to iiHitaic the regular movouient of
the music aid marching, which is done by dalaniiti); one phrase against
tiic other. This »ise of the balatutii structure to produce harmony is
rare. We leave the clansmei\ suddenly, just as we are quite anxious to
follow them,— a con\mon trick of narrators when wishing to bring up a
separate streani in the story.
0. — The story now turns to Ellen. Here we find that the Douglas
has mysteriously ihsappeared, and we feel that we are to believe Ellen's
view, that he has gone to surrender himself to tiie king.
The terror in "Clan Alpine's rugged swarm " preixxres us for some
evil to come.
10. — Douglas, r.llen never says " father." it is always " the Doug-
las." The effect is harsh ^ and consequently %vcak\ though probably in-
teiuled to give us a li>ftier opinion of Douglas' true position, as in tiius
giving liim liis title she uses ct)urt etiquette. It is, however, quite in
keeping with .Scott's own disposition.
Redden. Scott's heroes all redden on any sudden enmtion. Critics
all admit his inability to jxirtray the workings of the mind. He is not
a poet of thought and reflection.
Fetters. Tliis dream, like all dreams in a work of art, must come truf,
wliich we find to be the case ; though Allan probably would interpret
them as fetters of love. Note Ellen's close sympathy with her father,
and her high spirit.
II. — This stanza reminds us of .Allan's power to foretell events, and
hence wc believe yet that all will be well with Ellen.
i2.~This is a refitting of an old ballad, and is a fair specimen
of that si>ecies of composition. The metre, spirit, quaintness, and
abrupt narrative, are all admirably caught by the |X)et. Its presence
here is very significant, reminiling us that this was the period when the
rage for old poetry was at its height. (See Introduction.)
"Mavis" ithrush). from Fr. mauvis, Lat. malum vitis, evil to vines.
"merle" (black-bird), from Latin merula, "wold" (field), "pall''
m
1^4
THE Lady of the lake, [canto iv.
(rich cloth — pellis-pallium), " vest '' (garment), " vair " (squirrel skin),
Lat. varius. These were all common words in the old ballads, and are
adopted from the original.
Pall is the old A.S. form of Lat. pallium. Cf.
" And some of them were clad in greene,
And others were clad in pall ;
And there came in my lord Barnarde's wife •
The fairest among them all." — Percy's Reliques.
The common verse of the ballad is the quatrain of alternate tetra-
meters and trimeters rhyming with each otlier ; but here the metre is
purposely varied to imitate the irregularity of the old metre. In the first
and third lines there is, in some of the verses, a double rhyme. The
tetrameters, generally, have mid rhyme. The quaintness is increased
by the use of obsolete words and phrases.
16. — Allan's fairy tale has no sooner soothed us than we are again sur-
f vised by the sudden appearance of Fitz-James. Roderick must have
known of Fitz-James' intended return, and this would explain his anxiety
about the western approach, dreading danger to the Douglas.
17. — Fitz-James treats her rather cavalierly, but it is quite in keepmg
with his character as sketched in the first canto. Ellen's frankness, mod-
esty and tender conscience are charming, but the poet gave himself a
difficult task when he mixes up dialogue and soliloquy, yet there was
no other way of telling us the struggle going on in her mmd.
If yet he Is. An example of epanorthosis, i.e., questioning the.
truth of a statement just made. It is generally a short exclamation,
and is much more forclDle than a regular qualifying statement could be.
There is also in this phrase the figure antanaclases, i.e., the use of a
word in two different senses, as the word is, in these two lines.
True to maiden modesty, Ellen confesses her love only as a last
resource.
t8. — Hope vanished, etc. Fitz-James is the very opposite of Roderick
in love. The latter could not thus have given up his passion, but
fickleness is one of the failings given to Fitz-James. We admire, how-
ever, this first generous act of his in offering to protect her ; an offer
which Ellen dare not accept.
James V. bore some resemblance to his successor, Charles 11., in
possessing wit and libertihism, though Scott assigns a nobler aim to
his incognito adventures. James is popularly believed to be the author
of two ballads celebrating these adventures. They are, " The Gaber-
lunzie Man" and " The Jolly Beggar," or " We'll gae na mare a
ing," the former of which Percy has in his '* Reliques." The
{ftanza is as follows : —
" The pauky auld C.irle came over the lee
Wi' mony ghnHeens and days to mee, «
Saying Goodwife, for zour courtesie,
Will ce lodge a f\\\y poor man }
rov-
first
CANTO IV.] NOTES— THE PROPHECY. 185
The night was cauld, the Carle was wat,
And down azout the ingle he sat ;
My dochter's shoulders he gan to clap,
, And cadgily (merrily) ranted and sang."
19.— The ring is often used in old writers as a means of unfolding the
plot. We find, afterwards, that it leads to the denouement, and then we
see that Fitz-James is really the deliverer of Ellen and the Douglas in
almost as surprising a manner as the two exiles in Allan's fairy ballad.
Hence we seethe double object in the ballad— (i.) As a specimen of
the old ballads; and (2.) As a prophetic forecast of the ultimate
triiimph of right over wrong. Indeed, it is no sooner ended than the
deliverer appears. His words are intended to mislead, lest we might
guess from his having the king's ring that he was more than a mere
knight.
20. — Murdock's treacherous shout and the ominous accident of com-
ing upon the dead steed, are means taken to awaken our fear. We
see Fitz-James' rashness in still trusting his guide, but as yet he had
not realized his danger, for his sudden love was so overpowering, that
he did not catch the full import of Ellen's warning.
23. — .\s an episode, there is, probably, too much prominence and
space given to this story of Blanche, and there is something unnatural
in giving her so prominent a place, lay making her the means of warn-
ing Fitz-James, and in giving her the gift of prophecy. The whole cir-
cumstances -dxt painftd in the extreme, and awaken the deepest /flp/ioj.
Its twofold object is to turn us against Roderick, and to warn James, to
whom it also gives an additional interest as her avenger. It reconciles
us to Roderick's death, and acts as a real cause for fighting in the
combat.
Prophecy and prophetic dreams abound in this canto — (i.) Allan
dreams of the Graeme in fetters, and foretells Ellen's happiness ; (2.)
Blanche foretells Murdock's death and her own ; and (3.) The Tag-
hairm itself.
%k.
>k\
.?*w„
25.— This stanza is metaphorical. Fitz-James is the full grown stag,
" stag of ten " (horns), and she the '' doe."
26. — Note the skill shown in the management of the story. Blanche's
wretched condition was not enough to move us sufficiently ; she must
die, but to murder her purposely would have been too horrible ,• it is done
accidentally. In the excitement of the chase the narrative is dropped,
and the author cries out to the combatants as if they were actually
before us.
27. — The poor girl, partly restored to reason, in her dying moments
warns James againat Roderick Dhu. Her helplessness, her terrible in-
juries, her treasured lock of her lover's hair and her tragic death, are all
exceedingly affecting. We no longer sympathize with Roderick. We
hate him for his cruelty, and look with increased interest on Fit?.
i86
THE LADV OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
James, who is become her avenger, to mete out poetic justice on the
cruel marauder. Scott probably borrowed the main idea of this ballad
from the " liraes of Yarrow,'' in Percy's Rcltqttcs. Cf.
" How can I busk a bonny bonny bride?
How can I busk a winsome marrow?
How love him upon the Tweed,
That slew my love on the Braes of Yarrow ? "
" The boy put on his robes, his robe"; of green,
His purple vest, 'twas my own sewing ;
Ah wretched me, I little kenned
He was in these to meet his ruin."
"1U
28. — Soliloquies are generally weak in fiction, unless short, and shov/-
ing some naturally occurring mental perturbation. Here, of course, it
is necessary.
A favour was a token of love, given by ladies to their knights to wear
as a badge.
This frantic feat, etc. Notice the grammar of this couplet,
29. — A few suggestive particulars are given to picture the approach
of evening, then the narrative is resuined.
30. — This sudden appearance of the mountaineer is well conceived.
The whole stanza is bold, rapid and concise. We admire the unflinch-
ing bravery of Fitz-James ; it is that romantic thoughtless bravery, of
the age of chivalry, but its very thoughtlessness charms us. Under the
circumstances, he might be pardoned some selfish calculation, ' ut such
would detract from the poetic effect.
We have already learned why Roderick lies apart thus from his clan.
(See iv. 4 and 5.) The problem before the poet was to provide a pri-
vate meeting between Roderick and Fitz-James, and the Taghairm
afforded an opportunity of placing Roderick apart from his guards in a
" misty glade," where the " spy " suddenly comes upon him. One event
is thus made to give rise naturally to another, — a consideration of the
greatest importance in fiction,
31, — The conduct of the two men here is the very essence of poetic
martial faith, and when we learn that the lone sleeper is Roderick, we
again begin to respect him. This martial faith belongs to the time of
chivalry, with the spirit of which Scott was completely in unison.
CANTO V.
The Spenserian stanzas of this poem are so beautiful, that one would
wish the whole poem had been written in them ; but their artistic grace
and careful rhythm did not suit the "galloping pace" of Scott's narra-
tion. The iambic pentameter is best suited for the various manipulations
to which language is subjected in poetry, and hence has long been the
favourite metre in literature ; but Scott maintained, perhaps justly, that
I
CANTO v.] NOTES— THE COMBAT.
187
the pentameter was unnatural, being too long by two syllables, and that
English poetry was most re-sdily written in tetrameters, the poet, in fact,
having to employ some unnecessary or ornamental term for the extra
foot of the pentameter, as in the following couplet : —
" Achilles' wrath to Greece the dire/td spring
Of woes unnumbered Heavenly Goddess sing."
The subject of this first stanza is martial faith and courtesy, thus re-
minding us of Roderick's chivalrous conduct in the last canto and that
about to be described. The transposition in it is called anastrophe, and
makes the sentence periodic, n.e., throws the chief words to the end,
thus keeping the thought suspended till the last.
Bean. A tree or log, hence by metr. a collection or pencil of rays, but
frequent use has worn the metr. away, ai J the word has assumed the
fig. meaning as one of its ordinary meanings ; this is a common occurrence
in the history of words.
Bewildered. Used literally, by poetic license = lost in the wilderness.
The ordinary meaning is metaphorical.
Smiles and brow contain personal metrs.
Torrents. Saxon possessive, used for the Norman, often occurring in
poetry. It is shorter, older, less usual, and more personal.
Mountain-side. A poetic compound, used for brevity ; for the same
reason the article is omitted.
Far as that, etc. Simile and anaphora.
Horror and danger. Metonymy — quality for thing.
Faith and Courtesy. Written as if personified, but a moment's thought
shows that there is an implied comparison to a star, hence metr.
Storms, clod, brow, and War, are all used metaphorically ; war is com-
pared to night.
The capitals here are for emphasis.
Fair. A. S.faeger; this word has followed the tendency of English to
drop gutturals. Cf. nail, hail, sail, I, taught, etc. Literally it= bright ;
hence its many uses to apply to anything physically or morally pleasing.
A good exercise might be had from tracing all the meanings of such
words from the original, telling which are figurative and by which figure
formed, or by giving phrases containing the word in each of its mean-
ings, with their synonyms, thus: fair copy (free from blemish); fair
nonsense (pure) ; fair landscape (pleasing to the eye) ; fair lady (beauti-
ful); fair skin (free from dark hue); fair hair (of a light shade); fair
day (free from clouds) ; fair wind (favourable) ; fair view (unobstructed) ;
fair winter (open) ; fair fortune (prosperous); fair spoken (frank) ; fair
play (impartial) ; fair dreams (pleasing); fair prospects (hopeful); fair
success (moderate).
The word must be distinguished also from fair, a market, Lat. feria,
and from fare, A. S.faran, to go.
Pilgrim (per. ager> = L., feregrinus ; Prov., pelegrin. This word
shows well the tendency of liquid letters to vary and interchange. The
word is used here in its literal sens?:
Torrents. Words in ant and ent were the Latin present participles ; the
forms in ' ant' come mostly through the French.
Although, allowing all that; though is an old case of that,
«-
1 88
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
Gourtuy, from Lat., cohors — cors — hortus ; Ger., garten = garden or
yard. The word <:o«r^ originally meant a yard, then a select troop, then a
select body around the sovereign, and hence the actions peculiar to such
a body.
Clcud. A clot or clod of vapour.
2. — In all works of fiction the interest should deepen as fhe story
advances, culminating just before the unra'c' ■ of tiic plot. This
is well observed throughout this poem. Ou • feeling has been
first awakened for each of the individuals, int'lu .»^en Roderick, and
then, fold after fold, the plot has beeik. woven, r.^^w till everyone of our
friends is in trouble. Alarm, terror and distress are everywhere. Ellen
is alone and in distress, in a terrible cave, deserted by her father, who has
gone we know not whither, and by her lover, whom Roderick's jealousy
and her father's outlawry keep from her side ; the Douglas, believing
himself the cause of all the trouble to his friends, yet scorning to lift a
rebellious spear against his sovereign, whom he loves, has suddenly dis-
appeared; Roderick, smarting under the pangs of unrequited love,
thwarted schemes, and successful rivalry, and alarmed by the approach
of the royal troops, is mustering his clan for the terrible, though desper-
ate struggle ; and finally, Fitz-James, whose violent love has tempted
him back, disappointed in love, the probable deliverer of Ellen, the self-
appointed avenger of Blanche, is betrayed by his guide, hunted as a spy,
and threatened by a clansman whom his bold words have offended.' The
plot is at its darkest, and t/te meeting of these two is the first step in the
unravelling, or the removal of the obstacles, as it is called. Here then
we have the most intense interest culminating, and as the chief interest
of the poem centres round these two, their meeting was well left for
this important place. All the powers of the poet are now required to
maintain the action, and he has well succeeded. The incidents are
most striking, the descriptions grand, the dialogue powerful and
characteristic, the action rapid and well marked, and the harmony of
interest, of character, of scene, and of language, well maintained.
The description in the first three stanzas shou' ' be carefully noted ;
its characteristics will be found to be the same as those already pointed
out in Canto I., variety being given by the progress of the travellers.
Colour is again prominent, as in fair, sheen, red, dappled sky, varied
hues, green, gray, bracken green, heather black.
Soldier matins. A poetic condensation ; they were not matins for
soldiers, but short because said by soldiers.
Wiidering path. A poetic word = wild. The exclamatory form adds
vivacity and reality to the description.
It rival! all, etc. Descriptions in fiction are for the purpose of raising
the_/?«,f art emotions; i. e., pleasurable feelings ; hence the illustrative
language should harmonize as in this comparison.
Twinkling, glimmer (gleam), dappled (daub), muttered (mu), and
thicket (thick), are examples of various diminutive endings. Diamond
(adamant) ; then (than) ; fair (fair and fare) ; sheen (shine) ; rouse (raise) ;
awaked (watch, wait, bivoiuic, vigil); hue (hue and cry); winded (tc
twine or to blow), show that words are made by retaining different
forms of the same word, and that words sometimes accidentally assume
■" ' There arc many of both classes.
the same form.
CANTO v.] NOTES— THE COMBAT.
189
*h!!l!?1'M«'°^^^^ ? P*!"*'"^'^ from shear, cognate with sheer, shire,
shore, share, ^hort and rude are adjs. to meal.
. !!'■*'*'; n^ ^*^''*^ ^°'"'^ itompeallaid = sheepskin : peall = skin : Cf
fei its, fell. > ••
Hawthorn. Hedge ihorn. Bursting has no substantive expressed —
a condensed style only allowed in poetry. Supply " is " in the second
last hne and the /leonasm will be removed.
this stanza. Personal
3,— There are few illustrative figures in
metaphor occurs several times.
An hundred men prepares for the struggle in Canto VI.
Pass's Jaws. The harshness of sound here is scarcely justified even if
for harmony, and " cause " is not the proper word to use. '
Flows— Rose. The agreement of tense broken for the sake of rhyme
J)own, lake, road, stern, host, shrub, and shingle, are words that have
several meanmgs, being derived from different Voots. Derive them
Hardihood. Bravery, a Teutonic word, but used also in French :" the
1 IS a remnant of a connecting syllable, as in handiwork, nightingale
black-a-moor. In Latin compounds it is I, as .-er/form ; in Greek as
aironaut. '
Where (and other words with "wh"), might, and sought, have
dropped the guttural sound, '
4.— This long dialogue savours of the drama, and must be examined
as to Its object and effect. In a work of art nothing should be intro-
duced without some special reason. A dialogue is judged by the
natural effect the speakers produce, by arousing various emotions • it is
also used to dei'ehp the plot by carrying on the story, A further use
IS made of it in exhibiting and calling forth the characteristics of the in-
dividuals, and expressing them in appropriate language In this
dialogue all these uses appear, as will be shown. Fitz^James shows
many of his traits of character in this stanza ; thus his contempt for
danger and law, shows his bravery and his superior station for such is
meant by his superiority to the laws given to the " poor mechania"
In olden times farm labourers were, for the most part, restricted to their
parish, and only the " poor mechanic " would travel, seeking employ-
ment, but knights could wander at will ; in fact, it was the duty of the
knight-errant to go about seeking to do good.
Dangerous. See vi, 28.
Mist slumbering on yon hill. This is a very happy simile, poetic,
suggestive and pfcturesque ; every word has its force. Mist is easily
imagined -suggests morning— and also calmness, and henci peace.
Slumbering has the personal interest, and suggests night, the time of
mists. Yon hill /a«c// agree in case with him, to which they are connected by as, an
adv. conjunction. Care must be taken in supplying the ellipsis to
govern these words as '* him " is governed.
Nought — Ne-aught = naught — and should be so spelled.
Guard is tlie French form of the word ; ward is the English form.
Compare, also, warder, guardian ; wile, guile ; wise, guise ; war, guerre.
These words are different forms of the same Teutonic roots.
6. — One object of this arraignment is evidently to give Roderick an
opportunity of vindicating his character from these stains that Ellen,
Allan, Malcolm, and now Fitz-James accuse him of. His indignant justi-
fication of himself following after his great troubles, and his chivalrous
treatment of Fitz-James, are well able to enlist our feelings once more
for him. This, of course, adds powerfully to the interest in the contest
in which he, owing to his own generosity, is defeated,
CANTO v.] NOTES—THE COMBAT.
191
Wrothfui, more commonly wrathful. When an adj. is thus placed
first lor cmpliasis, it should refdr to the subject or object, but the con-
struction is changed here so as to make some quality of clansman
(scowl ) the subject. This construction is liable to ambiguity, but it is
frequently used.
That (a) shameful, etc. This shows the ambiguity that sometimes
arises from the omission of the article.
What. An adverbial object of degree.
If he stood, etc. A substantive clause, "if" = "whether."
His due, i.e.^ proper authority of a sovereign ; the office or title
(sovereignty) is here used for the person by metonymy. The turbu-
lency of the times is mentioned fiu'ther to excuse Roderick. (See ex-
planatory notes.)
Mewed (Lat. muto). A hawking term = to shut up while moulting.
Hence, to shut up as in a cage.
But then. Generally used to introduce some modification to a pre-
vious concession ; the sentence is exclamatory. Winning and wrench-
ing are in apposition with life.
Methifiks. The construction here is : — A soul .... borne thinks (to)
me; the noun sentence is the subject; thinks is intransitive. A. S.
thyncan, to seem. Think, to reason, is from A. S. thitican, to think.
7, — There is a sort of poetic justice in the Highland raids on the
Lowland usurpers that justifies, in. poetry, Roderick's conduct. This
is the most powerful as well as the most poetic portion of his defence.
The foctic interest is produced by various means. A picture is drawn
before our " delighted eye '' and maintained throughout by such words
as "yon mountain," "yon river," "see rudely swell," " yon plain."
Metaphors abound, " iron hand," " savage hill," " fortress," " heir."
Erotesis, "where dwell we now," Anaphora, "ask we, etc," Per-
sonification, in the reply of the mountain. Metonymy and Hyper-
bole, '^i&n thousand." Anacoenosis, "thinkest thou," and "where
live, etc." There is also a vigour in the sentiments and patriotism of
Roderick that gives animation to his words.
Grim the while. Grim (ly) is here an adverb; the adj. form is used
in poetry for its brevity, its poetic effect by being removed from the prose
form, and its sensuous effect, since adjs. approach the noun in mean-
ing more nearly than the adverb
The while is an adverbial object, rarely so used now but by the
Scotch. May = can, its old meaning, yet used in poetry on account of
its quaintness.
One. Individual or head, not herd.
Shall. As the resolution of the subject is here meant and not con-
straint , shall is improperly used for will—z frequent mistake in Scott.
North. The capital is thus used when, by metonymy, the direction
is put for the inhabitants or district.
Yonder. Yon-d-er ; the d is probably a strengthening consonant
after the liquid n. Similarly m often takes b, as number, chamber ;
sound, land, etc. ,
Stranger. Tat. extra, out, beyond. We have the direct Latin woro
extraneous, and the French strange, a corruption of it. The g in
atrangt is old/, which is another form of » = ^ in eons.
'^
192
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
of it
Sires. Fr. sire, sieur. L. senior, cpnip. of senex, old. Other forms
are, sir, seigneur, si'— or, messieurs.
Yore. Noun cognat' Aih. ere and year.
Target and claymore. The Claelic words — a hide and a }:;reat sword.
Rest. L. re-sto, to stand ; the A. S. (rnst) rest — relaxation.
Robber. Cognate with rap, reave, rive, and ro7>e. A double con-
sonant in the middle of a word in English has always indicated a short
preceding vowel. The same is true to some extent in other i)arts of
a word. The antiquity of this orthographical expedient is shown by
the spelling of theC>rw«/MW,thewriter of which recommends its gen-
eral adoption. It has given us our chief rule for spelling, i.e., doubling
the consonant to preserve the short sound of the vowel.
8. — Fitz-James' last accusation and Roderick's excuse are both rather
lame.
And if, etc. (andinvi.) And lieardst. When aw^^ is used thus with
questions it seems to indicate that the speaker wishes to suggest a
further argument that his opponent has omitted.
(That) I seel(, etc. N. sent, in appn. to ivariiing.
Nor. Poetic for atid not ; yet a concessive conj.
Even as a spy. Even modifies what follows, "as (thou art) a spy "
Save, etc. A phrase limiting the previous general statement by ex-
cepting a particular purpose. As save takes eith.r the nominative ur
accusative after it, it may be taken as a preposition governing, or an old
participle in ojjposition with the noun sentence. " That you are con-
demned to fulfill, etc."
I come. We thus use the present for the future, if it is near, or if
the verb follows, when, till, alter, as soon as, etc. ; the reason is that
there was no ending for the future tense in the old language, and the
present (subjunctive) was used instead.
As I (pant) until before, etc. The change of construction sounds
awkward.
Mood, A, S. tftod. passion ; but Lat. mood = modus, a manner.
9 — This episode is taken from actual facts ; the story is told of a
noted freebooter. It is most skilfully brought in, and with Scott's
usual startling abruptness ; the previous dialogue is well conducted, so
as to show the /ersona/ enmity of the two men, and this occurs at the
very nick of time, for by another ot his " happy coincidences" they
have just come to the midst of Roderick's clan lying in " ambuscade."
The description is admirable. Every word tells. Every circum-
stance is mentioned, and seems to render ihe scene more varied ; the
language is remarkably correct for Scott, and the illustrations natural,
while the terrible announcement is most effectively given at the last.
Yet, when we get time to think of it, how improbable it appears that
Roderick should go through this theatrical performance for one stray
soldier. However poetic the circumstance is, it is on a par with his
other romantic and chivalrous exploits ; while quivering on the eve of
battle, he sleeps apart and without guards ; he goes off on a long jour-
ney, and that away beyond his outposts, when he knows the royal troops
are advancing upon him ; and he throws away his target in order to
CANTO v.] NOTES— THE COMBAT.
^93
One is in apposition with (thou) the subject of the im-
have no adrantaijc over his opponent whom he had determined to kill,
buch improbabilities interfere wjth our enjoyment of the story
Sprung up at once the lurking foe. Scott mostly uses the form in u
lor tlie past tense. This is a lair specimen of a poetic line. Sprung
and foe, the subject and verb, occupy the places of emphasis at tlie
beginnin^c: and end. Sprunr being especially emphatic, owing to the
nyperoaton ; foejs also an important word, and hence is well suited for
the important office of bearing the rhyme. Every word has a meaning
in the line. It is also the close of a periodic clause.
Full (y) five. Full as an adverb is a great favourite with poets. Here
It modihes the numeral.
Yawning. This attribute is really part of the assertion ; yet it is
token as a quality already known to belong to the hill, by a sort of con-
densation resembling /r.;/t/j-/j.
All. An indefinite numeral in apposition with they.
Like. An adverb modifying hu,ig. Crags, obj. after like or (to).
1 his is a good specimen of 7i periodic sentence.
of *th JT^wl'" '" ^'"' Fitz-James' bravery and the sudden dir^ppearance
Come one.
perative.
Shall By. This is mere futurity, hence shall is an auxiliary or rela-
tional verb ; will is more frequently used for this purpose in the -xd
person, though shall may be, to some extent, justified by the fact
that It is the ordinary verb for mere futurity, and should be used on all
occasions where it would not lead to ambiguity. We must, however,
supply W'/// after /. ' '
Down sunk, etc. Another strong line.
Jack. (Fr. J ague; Lat. Jacobus, James) = a coat of mail, hence
diminutive jacket. Jaqiies is the most common name among the
I'rench, and hence it is taken as a type of an:^ thing common In this
sense it was borrowed into English ; hence it means John, the most
common name; any common Km^XernQni— boot-jack, etc.,— a coat of
mail— common' to all, a male, a common fellow.
Cold, from its appearance, either as devoid of colour, or of life • it
comes m very effectively here as a contrast to the previous scene.
*!• — The alarm of Fitz-James is well depicted here.
Rood, a metaphor taken from the Bible. Leant is not now used out
of poetry. Dreaming (that) etc., an adj. to "you," with a noun sentence
as object.
Wont. P. participle of A.S. wonian, to live, to be accustomed.
Rife. Same as rtfe. Here it means abounding in, alive.
Wind. Present tense for the rhyme.
Fancy. Gr. phaino, to appear. The frequent use of this word has
given us Its English spelling. It is used here more with the meaning
of imagination. The two terms were synonymous, fancy being more
frequently used in poetry, owing to its form. Cf, Dryden :
" 'Tis fancy in her fiery car
Transports me to the thickest war,"
'3
in
194
THE LADY OF TIIK LAKK. [canto V.
n
l^ut fancy mostly refers to somrthinj; liglit, trifling, or merely vurl).\l,
whijp imagination is now the technical term tur the quality of the mind
that produces fancies and illusions.
12. — The three lakes are Katrine, Achray, and Vcnnachar, the coun*
try between them, the Trosachs. On the plain there is a mound called
the Pun of Hochastle, supposed to be the site of an t)ld Ronum canip,
AtjaiUj we are alarmed about Roderick, for this is where Fitz-James
said his horses wait. (.^ec. iv., i;.)
Eagle wings. Referring to the eajjlc on the Roman ensign.
Target. This generous act of Roderick cost him his life, for he was
trained to use the target as a shield ; hence without it he was no match for
a trained fencer, who used his blade as sword and shield. Yet it heightens
our respect for the bold chieftain, and we feel the irony in his repetition
of his faults. Shakespeare, in " Hamlet,'' makes P.iris the best fencing
school, but there is probably a slight anachronism in Scott's use of the
art so early, as also the equality in the duel.
Man to man. An absolute phrase. The coujilet is very forcible ; its sud-
den energy startles us, though we half expected it. Keep thee. R.
literally fulfilled his promise (see iv., 31). The phrase is an apt one for
" defend thyself." We must not forget that Roderick's pride probably
led him to count on an easy victory. The stranger had claimed his
hospitality, hence he could not refuse it ; he was true to the traditional
honour of his clan, and gave all that was asked, " Rest, and a guide, and
food and fire." Hut vengeance must come, and Roderick would dis-
dain to ask assistance against one man.
13. — The difference between the two men is shown by the dogged
determination of Rcxlerick to take vengeance ; and the grateful and
generous impulse of Fitz-James that lead.*^ him to offer to rescind his
vow.
By prophet bred, refers to Brian's birth ; bred now usually means
brouif/it up — a secondary meaning. It may be cognate with bmc, and
the Welsh brcwd^ warm. Hence its literal meaning would be to " gen-
erate by heat," to " produce." The old expression, " bred and born,"
may thus be literally correct in order of time, and no hysteron frotcron
read interpreted. The death of Murdock thus preserves the truth of
prophecy as required by the laws of fiction.
Stark and still. Synomymous terms.
Strengths. Strongholds, an imusual meaning. " Native " means
" natural," belonging to the land.
Atone, none, alone, only and lonely, are all compounds of one.
Spills, another form of spoils = destroys, the old meaning.
Conquer Lat. con-queror, to seek for) meant originally to acquire in
any manner.
Plight never applied to property as " pledge." It is a Gothic word : A.S.
fliht ; Ger. Pflicht. Milton's ^'■plighted clouds " is another word from
I Lat. />lecto, to weave or fold.
14. — Roderick's anger is aroused not merely by the death of his clans"
nian and the proposal of homage, but by the goading thought that the
CAKTOV.] NOTES— THE COMBAT.
»^J5
very fates were turning against liim, a thoii;;ht that exasperates Iiim to
more determined revenge ; hence liis sarcastic words. His allusion to
the braid of hair is employed to overcome Kitz-James' reluctance, and it
reminds us as well of the unfortunate IJlanclic, so that we now sympa-
thise once more with her avenger, who also bids for our favour by re-
fusing to call assistance, though it was near. This short combat is one
of Scott's happiest efforts ; nothing can exceed the nervous vigour of
the language. The recital and explanation of the events are briefly
given ; we are made to look at the contest before our eyes, and sympa-
thise now with one, now with the other. 'I'he illustrations are striking.
The interest is most intensely exciting, and is maintained to the last
by concealing the result.
To name. An infinitive (gerundial) modifying jc>/ or supply, " as it
must soar high."
He. An effective pleonasm.
Carpet knight. An old epithet for a knight too effeminate to fight.
(Lat. carpo, to pluck, wool. )
Truce. (Cognate with true) nom. of address, but the line is merely
exclatnatory.
Odds. Probably from owe, and ~ one owetf over from the even number ;
own is a verb derived from owe, either the particijile or inf. oivti, the
adj. is the participle ; oug-Ai is from the weak particij)le.
Quarrel. Usually a dispute, here — a contest ; literally = a complaint
(queror).
Falchion is properly a short, crooked sword. Lat. /a/x, a sickle.
As (they would ioolc on) what they, etc. Note the grammar. Each is
3d sing., and requires a pron. to correspond.
15.— Fared. (A. S. /aran to go) — (i ) to travel ; (2) to happen well or
ill ; (3) to feed. Trace these to the root.
Trained. See "wrathful " in v. 6. It refers not to blade but to
James, a construction caused by a change of subject during the pro-
gress of the sentence.
Death. A metonymy of effect for cause.
Drank. A personal metaphor. It adds force to the description to repre-
sent the blade thus thirsting for blood, a figure frequently used in poetry,
which sprung from the habit of attributing supernatural power and life
to the swords of heroes, which largely pertains through mediaeval poetry.
Fierce, from Lat. ferox, cruel. It is the French form, the direct Latin
form \xAxv% ferocious. The word is here little more than a mere orna-
mental epithet, an expedient often made use of in poetry to throw in an
additional pleasure by calling attention to some striking quality. Note
also the alliterative harmony in the fear expressed by the repetition of
the/. The alliteration of 10, 11, 12 and 13 should be noted.
Ta'en. The guttural (k) is dropped in order to combine the two syl-
lables into one, a license tocJ frequently employed in poetry. Many of
the contractions, however, are euphonic, and have passed inl^ the current
language : such as morn, eve, had, made ; it is simply the euphonic cor-
ruption, everywhere present in language, resulting from a rapid and
careless pronunciation, whereby unaccented syllables are slurred over
and ultimately dropped out. Examples are numerous. Thus, from
M
m
m'
i'l.
f .1
■f.M
196
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
I
this stanza, it is well exemplified by the dropping of the guttural in
whose, what (Cf. quhat, Lat. quid)^ tough (tug), hide (Cf. Lat. cutis),
ward (Cf. guard), war (Cf. Fr. guerre), draught (drink), rain (A. S.
regen), rage (Lat. rabies), zdvantige (ad-ad-ante-ago), (k)nee(Lat. genji,
Gr, gontt), chidtain (Lat. caput), brought (bring). Note that English
words here liave dropped the guttural — an evident improvement. In
draught and tough the « is pronounced/, probably a mistake, owing to
the fact that u and v were formerly written alike. (Cf. w.)
On the other hand, as accent has caused sounds to drop out from the
beginning, middle, or end of a word, so it has caused the accented syl-
lables to be strengthened by additions ; of these various processes, names
and examples may be found in any book on etymology. In poetry, this
principle is sometimes employed for effect, as in adown, deary, shrilly.
16.— This concludes the famous struggle. It is a powerful stanza ; its
sudden transitions are startling and keep the interest at the highest till
the last moment.
Yield thee. Fitz-James' generosity leads him again to forget his vow,
but it pleases us, and is in striking contrast with Roderick's unyielding
bravery and pride.
Like, etc. The repeated similes are, here, a source of strength, by
dwelling on the rapidity till we have a vivid idea of it ; they are appro-
priately taken from the natives of the forest.
How, etc. This word adds reality to the exclamatory apostrophe.
No naiden't hand means more than it expresses; not merely not a
weak hand, but a very strong one. The figure is called litotes, and is
very common in ordinary conversation.
They tug, they strain ; down, down they go. Here we have imitative
harmotiy, epizeuxis, asyndeton (omitting conjunctions), and emphatic
arrangement.
Hit. Note the -weakening effect of the repetition of this word. More-
over, it does not always refer t > the same antecedent as it should.
But hate, etc. Note the effect of the dash and the arrestive but.
Odds of deadly game is rather weak in this momentous place : it is one
of those convenient phrases that Scott seems to have at hand when in
an emergency for rhyme, the frequent use of which led Byron to speak
of the "fatal facility of the tetrameter line."
Reeled, etc. The repetition here of almost synonymous terms adds to
the effect, which is further increased by the balanced structure and the
unexpected destination of the blow.
17. — After a slight pause for relaxation after the intense excitement of
the struggle, during which Fitz-James literally fulfils his vow, we arf
led rapidly to Stirling to see the archery games, though we reluctantly
leave Roderick.
Die or live, i.e., it is his whether he die or live. His praise here and
in vi., 29, is generous, and is very pleasing. It is probably imitated from
the ballads. Cf.:—
• *' The Perc^ leanyde on his brand,
And Sfiwft the Ousrlsis dc \
He tooke the d^de man be the hand*
CANTO v.] NOTES— THE COMBAT.
197
And sayd, " Wo ys me for the ;
To have savyde thy lyflfe I wold have partyd with
My landes for years tnre,
•■• For a better man of harte nare of hande
Was not in all the north countrk."~Chgvy Chatt.
SquirM. The attendant of a knight, Latin scutum, a shield, and
gero, to carry ; hence, scutiger, a shield-bearer. To this the French
added a euphonic initial e, making it escuyer, from which we get esquire
and squire, and " Es(j.," now used as a general title of respect. Tliis
French e is seen also in estate {sta), espy (spy, Lat. specio), etc.
Palfrey. Originally an extra horse. Probably from Low L. parapedus.
Gr. para, beside, and veredus, contr. from veho, to carry, and rheda a
carriage. Usually applied in the ballads to a lady's horse.
Boune. An old participle of Norse bera, to make ready ; it is now
strengthened to bound.
Weed. Clothing, from weave.
I wilt before, etc. An ellipsis often found in old poetry. Note Scott's
fondness for names, leading him to mention each man.
18. Bayard. Scott was intensely fond of horses and dogs.- " Scott's
life might well be fairly divided (into reigns) by the succession of his
horses and dogs. The reigns of Captain, Lieutenant, Brown Adam,
Daisy, divide at least the period up to Waterloo ; while the reigns of
Sybil, Grey, and the Covenanter divide the period of Scott's declining
years." As the poet has to interest us now after the sublime contest, his
aim is to do so by a rapid succession of events. The noble horse and
his splendid rider are shown us before they start their rapid career,
but the impetuosity of the gallop reminds us of the other noble steed
that lay dead in the mountains.
They rise, etc. An example oi pleonasm. It is borrowed from the old
ballads, and hence adds quaintness to the lines. Such also are site,
might (could), right-hand, merry-men. Here again we have a number
of unimportant places mentioned. They all lie on the Firth between
Callender and Stirling.
Glance, obj. compl. infinitive, after mark.
Stanzas 17 and 18 are weak, but contrast with the sublimity of the
contest.
19. By another lucky coinciden-e we are suddenly brought into
Douglas' company. He is immediately recognized by Fitz-James, and
this leads us to wonder why Fitz-James himself was not recognized by
those on the island.
Whom. But for the rhyme, probably, Scott would have written 7vho,
as he evidently meant, but as it stands we must suppose it to mean
{from) -whom.
BrooiH — man, a meaning it has also in bridegroom. It is the radical
meaning. Goth, guma, a man ; Cf. Lat. homo.
Jealousy. Lat. zelus, zeal. The jealousy that one courtier has of an-
other is alluded to, but the reader scarcely understands the sarcasm un-
less he knows who the speaker is. Note that the poet purposely makes
— -.UH -jI HIC ivsjsg jiiaij/Tii mas: it»c jcaiuusjf UI ICUi
tendant.
I?
a-v^
s r
198
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v.
strictly
Ute form, Itc. These two lines contam a construction not
correct. Supply (another).
Saini Sril. It was customary for knights to solicit the favour of oar-
ticu ar saints and, in asseveratins, to call them to witness ihid to swear
by them. The more common of these adjurations passed into mere
oaths used to add vigour to language. Scott was severely criticized by
Jeffrey, the critic of XhtEdinbur^^ Ra>icu>,iot making James swear by
aV,^^^"""® » sa'nt, but he probabfy found many such in old ballads : Cf.
I he king he laughed, and swore by .St. Bittel."
The Mng It is the King who is spaiking. His words have one mean-
off Wsuayd"'' ^"° ' ^"^ ^**^'"«»^e'"'Who 's thus purposely thrown
Such an expedient is
guard.
20.— We have here an explanatory monolotnte.
often employed by poets.
Bride ol Heaven, implying that he had made arrangements to have
Jillen become a nun in case he was slain.
How excellent ; but that it by,
And now my business it— to die.
5n J'!n 'l! ''"i ''^* ^Y""^ '^ *'"* aposiopesis ; there is also an intense mean-
H?« ."..;* an almost ^/;j.r«»/«//V turn in the effect of the dash.
tauil mound. He refers to the murder of William, Earl of Douglas.
!lJtl; ^^"^^l^ "'' ^''\ ."-efusmg to abandon an alliance into which he
castle Murdlh' TT^ f "Hurley Hacket," the heading-hill near the
Sr in^ r^ h ?."^^ "^ ^^'^''"y- '^""'^^"' Earl of Lennox, and Wal-
it J1 ^^^**"*^^ Stuart were executed near it.— Scott.
fu**^." ."*•"• Moorish dancers, in imitation of the Moors. Note
i\iitalltterattvepat.s m the latter part of this stanza.
Play wy prize. A form of expression frequently used by old writers.
nil iSj t>*«tonymy, quality for possessor.
Climbed. The ^ is not radical in this and such words as dumb, thumb.
Iamb, numb, crumb, etc. ; it was added as a strengthening consonant
^meTiientl"'^ """^^ ^^^^^^' ^^*'*" ^'"'^ ^""^'"^ dropped the b be-
th^d^'S'Siti '^"''' ^^"^ ' ^^"' *° ^^^'' ' '" *^^*"Sed to n. Vindication is
Ransom. Redemption {re-de-€mp-ion\ m to n and n to >«.
Sovereign. (Lat. JK/m-an). its supposed connection with reien
misled early writers. It should be jw^rt«. *
Sporti. {\jaX. dis-porio, to carry) ; j is a remnant of dis, dropped be-
cause unaccented. ' ^^
, 21.— An unimportant stanza, but it must be remembered as a strik-
ing contrast to the evening scene. The emphatic " But » introduces a
discordant element The presence of the reluctant chiefs shows what
Hl^^^f fifi .t"^^ ^^? for suspecting the King's actions, .-md in a meas-
ure justifies that part of the plot.
2 *": Mo^^csty, as in shamefaced.
, Ss sHsii. The proper .se of conjunctions is one of the main fea-
CANTO v.] NOTES-THE COMBAT. ^ ,9^
turesof a good style, and the critical investigation of their force is verv
mportant in a hterary analysis. Their omission or repetition has soS
times a rhetorical effect (asyndeton and polysyndeton), but thevTaT
sometimes be omitted without affecting the style or meaning ffi S
pens when the relation expressed is very close (when they are useirsiT
or very remote (when they are absurd)' if an effects sS and fol'
lowed immediately by a cause, as here, the conjunction is of ten'omitted
1 he student should accustom himself to detect the relation of sentences
to each other, and thus test the use of the connectives '''"ten^s
And cb efs, who, hostage, etc. If hostage is in apposition with who
we would expect clans, if with each, we should have /i« '
Each IS in apposition with who; the part, with the whole
T.SL"""!"* '*."'9' '•^•'. the King who loved the common people But
5?h. n'^fr^ '". '""'; '"^. ^^^. f "'"'"''" P^°P'« ^^^« 'o destroy the power
o he nobles, whom the feudal system had rendered almost independent
Sobnftv ?uf ;i ^'r,«'^^^ V'^" 9f the town people, to counterbalance the
nobility had already been done in England by Hen. VII. and in Prince
l^r^^\ ^'T "^^ ^f '*'• ^"""^^y ''« ^^ '« introduced the hireS!
fttlTing htTcheme:.'^"'"^ ""^"^^ ^ ^^'" "^"^'^ P«-^^"» — ^^
Jemjet, a Spanish horse ; Sp. ginete, a light horse soldier.
Oolfing, taking off == do-off; Cf. don =. do-on, to put on.
for'^^oble^st C'eTnoWe!'"''' '^"^' ' ''"^^' °"^ '^^ *° ^ ^ ^^-P™
Visage. Lat. video, to see ; Fr. visasre, the face.
iu^il ^°**''' *'^'' °^^ '^'^'^^'^' ^ ^"Sgestive phrase. Tower, from Lat.
^l' ,. "The poet here gives us a glimpse of the old games of the oeonle
as distinguislied froin those of the knlglits ; it is, however, the ollEnS
ish games and not the Scotch, that he has Kiven! The characters S
tmned are taken from old poems, especially Ben Jonson's Sad Shepherd.
The stories of Robin Hood compose the epic of our greenwood f He
IS supposed to have lived as an outlaw about the time of Edward H A,
he protected the poor from the rapacity of the " rich carles," hesoeedilv
became a popular hero and the favourite subject of the son (js of the
peoDle and of their masques, too, as here. Douglas' wonderful shoot!
ngl^eongs to the regions of poetic ideal; it is borrowed from the ba-
lioned! Cf!" ' ""''' '' ^' """^^ °^ *^^ particulars men-
'• The first time Robin shot at the pricke
He met but an inch it froe ;
The yeoman he was an archar pood,
But he could never shoote see."
" Xh® second shoote had the wlghte yeoman,
He shote within the garlande ;
But Robin he shot far better than hee,
For he clave the good pricke wande."— .fft>^-« f/ood.
*3' — Two o'er the rett. and For life, etc. The abrupt statements fif
results merely is a condensation in imitation of the ballad, as a dance
at Percy s Reliques will show ; Cf., also, " Alice Brand."
200
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto v."
Mtf noraliM, ftc. The past is in the imagination always removed
from reality, and clothed in the brightest colours. Poets of all ages have
taken advantage of this fact to moralise on present degeneracy and to
idealize the past. This sentiment is contained in such phrases as " the
olden time,"' " the good old time," " the times gone by," " of yore," " the
golden age." Scott proliably imitates Homer m introducing the games
here. 1 he circumstances are borrowed to some extent from the games
in the Iliad at the funeral of Patroclus
24.^ We are shown what a popxdar hero this imaginary Douglas was.
The touch of satire at the end is natural. This also comes from the
legendary ballads, where the freebooters, when captured, had to exhibit
their skill before the King, and always gained the popular sympathy.
The head is a Scotliasm ; sash son, an awkward condensation.
For he, etc., a pleonasm. The sentence is really not completed, and
hence not intended to be grammatical ; he is not in construction, and
hence is independent of the sentence,
TheJr wont, 1'.^., the old, the young, and the women had each their own
way of judging.
The honoured olace, the place of honour. Place is the complementary
obj. after held.
25.— The stag is a pure invention of Scott's. We have seen that the
circumstances were taJcen from old legends, and the sentiments from the
classics.
This stanza touches us more deeply than the previous parts of the
games ; it appeals to our strong liking for pets, especially dogs. Our
mterest is further aroused by making Lufra Ellen's favourite. The blow
to the dog is a trifling circumstance, and yet affords a happy and natural
means of precipitating matters.
Nesdt has buffet for its subject.
La^t, an adv. ; woitt, an adj.
Rtw of the crowd. Scott himself had that narrow pride, but it does
not chime with the noble address of Douglas to the people. If we are
conscious of no weakness, we dislike pity only when we despise the
source.
26. — The Douglas makes himself known. The King's assumed
anger again throws the reader off his guard.
Hor craves, etc. Nor = and — not ; but is a preposition followed by a
phrase representing a ^oun clause, the whole forming an adverWal
phrase of limitation to the negative verb.
Jamet of Bothwell. The Douglas of the poem is a fictitious person-
age. The affection between him and the King, and his treatment by
the King and courtiers, are founded on the story of one Archibald
Douglas of Kilspindie, who had been appointed guardian of the young
prince, and whom tht latter called his " Greyspiel"— a man of immense
stature and strength.
Brook (A. S. brucatty to bear) = to endure ; brook^ a stream, is cognate
with break. The King's severity here is uncalled for, but it shows his
d .....:... 4.^ A. :» i.1 1 ua*. ^jiA^ ^c Ai.A .«^v.1a.»
Atone the war. Atont
means
(i) to make one, to reconcile; (2) to
CANTO v.] NOTES—THE COMBAT.
lot
unite in one (obsolete); (3) to expiate: here it has the third meaning
" Or each atone his guilty love with life."— Pop*.
The object of these stanzas is to awaken our pity and admiration for
the Douglas, which is done by showing his harsh treatment by the King,
iJ?A ■! T affections of the people, and his generous patriotism.
Wini nint, etc. There IS an attempt in these lew lines to imitaig the
tumult he is describing.
Knighthood, etc. This was called " dubbing him a knight." The
ceremony was performed by giving the recipient a slight blow on the
shoulder with the flat of the sword while proclaiming that he was a
kmght. There is a species of metonymy here, the ceremony for the
honour. It was formerly performed by any knight, then by generals,
now by the so' -eign or his representative. Cf.
*' Knighthood he took of Douglas' s«ord."— Lay, iv.
.1 ^^•"T^"*'*' ^'""""^ Lat.^«r«j,a race or family, hence it literally means
" well-born " (genteel) ; then qualities suiting one of good breeding :
hence, not rough, mild, amiable.
Fealty. Lat. fidelitas ; Fr. Mo, to trust. Fidelity is the learned or
direct Latin form of the word, and retains its original meaning, while
fealty has a technical meaning, derived from its use in old law.
As ffluit. See v. 4.
MH kind =^ my kindred. By Grimm's law we know this word to be
cognate with Lat. gens.
Captive hour— a species of metonymy and trnnsferred epithet.
Begun refers to all that follows, but has no noun expressed .
Widow's mate. ProUpsis — mate means literally one measured.
There is another word mate, as in checkmate ; sh&h m&t, Persian for
"the king is dead."
Keep your right to love me, which they could not do if he brought
evil upon them,
29. — The sudden change in the crowd, from wild fury to tears, strikes
us as strange, but not when we consider the power of a popular hero and
the ignorance and debased condition of the "rabble" m those early
times.
30. — This stanza completes the contrast between the King and Doug-
las in their sympathy with the people. The people know the genuine
feeling of Douglas, and reward it with love, but the King, when dis-
appointed, cruelly orders his horsemen to clear the ground, and com-
plains of their fickleness.
Many poets have sung of the fickleness of the common people, but
Scott here is most likely imitating Shakespeare, who also represented
the lower classes as too despicable.
In " Coriolanus," a play founded on this fickleness of the Roman
populace, Coriolanus says to them in Act L, i : —
*• What would you have, you curt,
* • « * m • •
With every minute you do change a mind,
Ik
202 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi.
And call him noble that wai now your lute,
Him vile that was your garland."
Note that this opinion has given us the word mod, from Lat. modiie
vulgits, tlie fickle crowd.
Fantutic, etc. Note the alliteration to denote the sneering contempt
or aversion. This is a species of imitative harmony, for the sound
represented by " f," from its puffing nature has become associated with
what is unpleasant to us ; this is seen in such words as fie, phew, fear,
flee, faugh, fiddle de de, fee fa fum, fudge.
A simile on each of tlie four words follows to intensify the effect.
31.— Cognixaiice. Crest or heraldic coat by which a knight could be
known when his visor was down. , . ,1
Keep bound. Keep is in the imperative, bound is its obj. Here we
have another misunderstanding that leads to the battle in the next
canto.
i2.— How did the King know tliis ? See v. 19.
ily lawn. This is a strange expression to put into the mouth of a
hurried soldier.! It savours too much of the old ballads, and is out of
kccpinfif*
Spurned. One of those strong words that add force to expression.
It belongs to the vocabulary of strength.
33._The scene closes in sorrow and gloom, both in the iialace and
the town. The rumours through the town arouse our curiosity, and
prepare us for the coming stanza.
•Of old. Aposiopcsis ; it fills us with alarm for the Douglas, who now
has all our sympathy.
CANTO VI.
I — \gain we have the beautiful introductory stanzas chiming in with
the close of the former canto, and suggesting what is coming. It is
morning ; but the poet has too much sympathy with man and his sor-
rows to give us a (Ascription of external nature. Compare the reflec-
tions here with the opening lines of Canto ii. iii. and v. ; in the latter
the poet paints the reviving l^'e, the serene beauty or the brilliant glory
of awakening nature ; but here it is the busy haunt of man, where each
is aroused to his task of care. It is not, however, man as one of
" nature's children" that feels morn's " genial influence," it is man in
the " dark city," where "morn " too often awakes him to woe, happily
forgotten" while under the influence of " the kind nurse of men." This
melancholy moral, drawn from natural phenomena, is quite characteristic
of Scott : the sentiments that occur to him are mostly of a sad nature,
and none can be more generally touching. The scene given here is
intensified by selecting individual cases, and these of the most sugges-
tive and touching nature, with which all the attending ctrcumstances
are in srloomv harmony : the dark city, the sullen glance, smfu man,
nurse of men, red and struggling beam, feeble wail,— all help to deepen
the impression.
I
CANTO VI.] THE GUARD-ROOM.
203
I
The laniTuage is sivipU and terse, with few of those obsolete words,
meanin^k'ss phrases, and forced arranj/emeut, that so fro(jucntly deface
bcott s paije ; yet they are not altogether absent. Caitiff i^ weak. Student
pale IS an inversion that adds no force, and if occurring too often, as it
does in tins poem, it shows weak poetic powers. Gyi."— Milton, P. L. (same olirase in
Spencer's "Faerie Queene."
" Such buxom chief shall lead his host
From India's fires to Zenibla's frost."— Scott, Marmion.
In the sense of obedience it was frequently applied to women ; as this
quality gradually lost its importance, the word lost its old meaning, and
assumed another denoting those qualities desirable in women, lively,
cheerful grace, as in,—
"A female heir
So buxom, blithe, and full of face
As heaven had lent her all his grace."— Gowbr.
" So buxom, blithe, and debonnair."— Milton, VAlltgro.
A. S., bocsum ; Fr., buj^an, to bow ; Ger., beugsam = bowsome, easily
Cut short. Cut is a participle qualifying games ; short is an adv.
5.— The soldier's song is characteristic, singing the praises of wine and
women, and satirically defiant of " the vicar." The metre is anapaestic
tetrameter, with an agreeable mixture of iambics.
Wrath and despair. Referring to his denunciations.
Black-jack. A metonymy for the liquor it contained.
Seven deadly sins. Pride, Sloth, Gluttony, Lust, Avarice, Envy and
Anger— from Spenser's Faerie Queene.— 1 .whOK.
Sack, from Fr., sec, dry ; L., siccus, a dry wine.
U|»ees. A Bacchanalian interjection, borrowed from the Dutch. —
Scott. Upsee Dutch meant being drunk.
A llg for, etc. And care not a fig for the vicar. Fig is the adverbial
object, probably derived from the Italian /^rt., a mode of insult by putting
the finger in tne mouth. Cf. French, /a/V^ lafigue.
Jack and Gillian were correlative terms in old songs. Cf. :
" Every Jack shall have his jill."— Shak. M. N. D.
Cure, from the Lat. cura, care. The care of souls ; hence, the district
or duties of a priest.
Placket and pot. The favour of th« ladies and the good things of life,
good fare. These words are used by metonymy for contents ; placket,
a petticoat. Dread prince of plackets.— L. L. L., iii. i.
There is another meaning to the word, however, that removes the
coarseness ; viz., Fr. plaquette, a Belgian coin, dim. oi plaque, a plate ;
Ger. plack, a plate, a rag ; Gr. plax, a plain. From the French we get
the meaning coin, and from the German, rag, and hence, petticoat. Cf.
" I had nae a plack in my pouch."— Albx. Ross.
6.— We immediately guess who the minstrel and maid are, and do
not need to be told.
Without. The use of this word, and within, as adverbs, is freauent
ui poetry, but is rarely now found in prose.
■»^
2o6 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi.
Went—. The old past tense of -wenden, to go. It has supplied the
place of yode. The dash indicates the abrupt turn in the thought.
iL ?}**' ^^^ P'"*"*^ '^ ""^^ "^"*' '" P''^'*^- " Gentlemen,' or the French
Messieurs" being used instead. Note the history and use of this
word :— Sir, sire, sieur, seigneur, signore, senior. Cf. eider, alderman,
earl, and "our elders."
Loom = licentious or immodest. Cf . " loose speech " in 8 and " loose
fancy" in 9; and also " loose fish," "free liver," " free thinker," " liber-
tine. The censure incurred by the refusa' to submit to discipline has
given these words their disreputable meanmg.
Store. From Lat. instauro, to provide ; )\enc&= provision, abundance.
Theln. Objective genitive. It is also a double genitive form, the s
being redundant.
Needs. An example of a word from the inflection of another word ;
it is an adverb formed from thr g nitive of the n. need. We have many
such. Cf. whiles, perhaps, sela. m, when, then, where, why, etc.
Juggler band. Fr. Jongleur, from Lat. joculator, a jester, from
jocus, a jest. The king's jester was often an important personage ; we
hnd by Doomsday Book that he had lands in Gloucestershire. " Jocu-
lator regio habet iii. villas."— Percy. As the king kept his jongleur
or minstrel, for jhis entertainment, many of the nobility imitated htm in
this ; so also did religious houses. These were sometimes allowed to
journey from place to place, singing and playing, and ultimately they be-
came independent. They gradually sank in character, till a law was passed
against them in the reijn of Elizabeth. " They used to call in the aid of
various assistants to render these performances as captivating as pos-
sible. The glee-maiden was a necessary attendant. Her duty was
tumbling and dancing."— Scott. Shakespeare ridicules such bands
frequently, as in R. and J., M. N. D., Hamlet, etc.
, 7-— The effect of Ellen's bravery and beauty is well told and illustrated
by a fine simile. This also is quite in keeping with the sentiments, the
cliivalric past. One pJect of chivalry was to make woman, especially
when young and beautiful, not the companion, but the goddess of man.
These. This use of these without its noun to refer to persons is
almost obsolete, and is entirely so in the singular. With the verb " to
be, ' however, when the predicate noun follows, it is used either in
the singular or plur.1l. Harper ^xi^ girl are in apposition with these,
making a //^r<7n«jwj in ihe ballad style.
Purvey. Yxova.'L^iX. pro-video, \.o prmide. Cf. purveyor. This word
and steed, hitherivard, speed, belong to poetic diction. The student
Should carefully investigate the use of such words and constructions as
these ; they constitute one of the chief distinctions between prose and
poetry In the latter they add gracefulness and quaintness ; but should
be carefully avoided in the former.
Lodge. The house in which a forester would live. As John of
Br< nt is an exiled forester he dri.ws his metaphors from hunting.
Locs:e and lobby are cognate. A.S. logian ; Ger. Laiibe.
Despite. Lat. de-specio, to look == to look down on. This word comes
trom the participle despectus. Fr. depit,
8.— When Ellen states that she is the poor daughter of an exiled sol-
CANTO VI.] NOTES— THE GUARD-ROOM. 207
dier, we feel tliat she employs the moct powerful means of awakening
the sympathies of this wild band. The impulsive nature of John de
Brent is naturally first aroused for good as for evil.
And thou. This use of apil as an introductory conjunction is found
when the speaker utters words that have been or might have been used
by the previous speaker.
By forest taws. These were formerly very severe in England,
II Rose. Rpanorthosis. His lost lm>e adds to our interest in the
generous outlaw.
Iron eye and brow. A metaphor. It generally denotes severity ; here,
only the rough, worn soldier.
He that step*. Another irregularly formed sentence, see v. 24; he
is the antecedent of his and that^ but is not in construction itself.
lnjuH<)Ut dart. A weak phrase, probably used for the rhyme ; the
meaning is forced. Maid is the indirect object. Note that ic means
radically a child of either sex. A. S. maegth; G&c.magd, matcl ; Goth.
magus, a boy ; Gael, mac, a son, as in il/a
I
A.S.
2IO THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi.
7t'arcn, to warn. From same root we get garnish, garniture, garment
(garniment), garrison.
Hold. Noiin from verb to hold = a place for confinement. Cf . hold,
the Ao/c' or hollojv part of a ship.
Le«ch. A physician ; it is the same word as the worm leech.
laece, from laeccian, to heal.
»3-— The opening simile here is noble, but it is elaborated too much
and the latter part is weak. Our interest is aroused on this renewal of
our acqu.imtance with Roderick, Note the order in which he asks after
those dear to him,— Ellen fust, as the dearest, then the clan, his mother
and Douglas ; just the order we would naturally expect. The siias-
modic ejaculations of Roderick are intended to indicate his weakness
and his excitement at the tliought of his broken clan.
For thy clan. An absolute phrase used to indicate the subject of the
following assertion.
Bough. A metaphor.
14.— -Yon lone isle. There is something exceedingly patheiic in
this allusion to the island. Tiie thougiit brings a thousand memories to
his levered brain and heart ; hence his long pause. His gloomy proph-
ecy is significant of the acuteness tiuit comes before death, and fills
us with sad thoughts for him and for that lone romantic island.
O'er Dermid's race. Scott in a note states that several instances
are found in tradition of persons being so fond of particular tunes as to
ask for them on their death-bed. It is noteworthy tliat Roderick
selected one celebrating a victory. He w;is always most defiant when
suffering from disappointment. Victory for himself and his clan was
us "ruling passion " throughout life, and it chimes with a popular lie-
hef when thus represented as " strong at death." How natural it is to
expect visions of daring deed and glory to come as a soothing Ijalm to
the " free spirit," and enable it, like a true soldier's, to "burst away"
on "the fair field of fighting men." From the early cantos we are pre-
pared for Allan's poetical power. The old bards were thus able to im-
provise their songs.
Again where ne'er. A bold but musical hyperbaton.
Clang— crash. Note the wiHativc harmony in this line, and the
alternate alliteration.
For the lair, etc. A good alliterative line.
The simile at the close is very picturesque.
15.— Bear an Ouine, or " Beahich an Duinc" = " The Pass of the
Men. " A skirnrsh actually took place during the invasion of Scot-
land jy Cromwell at a pass thus called in the Trosachs, and closed with
the remarkable incident mentioned in the text. The herome's name
was Helen Stuart."— Scott. The picture here given of the battle is in
Scott s best style. Every expedient is employed to heighten the
ettect. We share Roderick's anxiety for the result,— this is the story
interest ;— the sudden and terrible onslaught of the Highlanders is the
mo»e pleasing to us since we half expected it from their appearance to
Fitz-James; the various /Mr/V/rM/f of the battle .^rp told v.-itli ftar^liri-'
reality; vivid description is mingled with rapid narration; a liji-
CANTO vj.] NOTES-^THE GUARD- ROOM. 2,1
We s'Sc/het'S] U,!t nf "'?^ tl>e W/„«,,v, ,y,y,„ ,f the Bard
i-<««**liiw»,.j.>.,
312
THE LADY OF 1 ^E LAKE, [canto vi.
'TWMW. Another pleonasm.
Ejmf. Lit. = eggery ; hence, a nest — generally the eagle's. From
Old English eyren, eg^s, but it may come from A. S. Art. Ger. Aar^
an eagle, and ry, denotmg collectiveness.
CrM. An eagle. An old Saxon word.
i6. — Here we take "one glance at their array" as they proceed in
dumb march through that "seeming lonesome pathway." See ▼. 9,
10, and II.
Forest. Lat. foras, out of doors, a predicate nominative.
Barbed. Literally = armed with barbs, or beard-like points. It may
refer to the helmets. It properly belongs to the horse, and means his
tra,)pings.
Battalia. A coined word = either the army marching to battle, or
more probably used as the plural of the battalion.
Vanward. Van, contr. from Fr. avant, Lat. ai, ante.
Scouts. Old Fr. escoute. Lat. auscu/io, to listen, from auris, the
oar.
Oeep-sea wave. The simile in these three lines is weU chosen, and
picturesquely describes the regularity of the march.
A narrow, etc. Note the license in the repetition of the article.
Shadowed o'er = o'ershadowed. The two ideas must be taken to-
gether to give the true meaning of the expression.
17. — A vtxy fiowerful stanza. Its peculiarities are apparent. Note
the two pairs of rhyming quatrains in the beginning to denote haste :
a species of harmony.
At once and yell. Note the emphatic position of these important
words.
As all = as if all. Common in Scott and Shakespeare.
Archery. L. arcus, a bow ; er, an agent, and y, collection. Note
ihaperiodic structure from forth to appear.
Tneir plight they ply = they urge their flight. Ply = to urge on, to
work steadily at, and plight — their present condition, /.#., flight.
Cf. Gray's —
" Nor busy housewife /ly her evening care.**
Maddening = raging. The accumulation of circumstances adds to
the terror.
How shall It keep. Note the use of it as subject of a sentence be-
fore its antecedent is mentioned. The animation is thus increased ; the
exclamation is made as if the struggle were before our eyes, and the
explanatory noun follows.
Twilight wood, />., twilight forest as in 16. Probably from its re-
semblance to a forest in the twilight.
Onset. We use many nouns thus composed of a verb and prefix
though we do not now use the verb with the prefix. Cf. upshot, down-
fall, overthrow, income, outlook, etc., but verbs compounded with ovtr^
under and with are common.
Tinshsi. A method of taking game by forming a ring round it and
dnving it into a pit or trap.
CANTO VI.] NOTES-THE GUARD-ROOM.
its
wilnflH"*!! ^*^!; -^"«*her fine simi/e drawn from the sea, this time
when lashed by the tempest. It is more fully elaborated than that
IBut Moray. Note that the transitions are clearly marked.-alwavs
powS7effect o'f' "-"''y,^ changes from side to sid^e. Note als^
m-.^t c o^,^'"«ir i/ie actual commands. It is an expedient
Rom^Vpo"rV,i-^""""- ™' 'i"™!'''™ '= stated fton. the
Cf. " O for a blast of that dread horn,
On Fontarabian echoes borne,
Whicli to King Cliarles did come :
When Roland brave and Olivier,
And every paladin and peer.
On Roncesvalles died."— Scott. Marmion.
Refluent. How -weak the Latin adjective is here
Branrfi.hVn*''^!!' '"'' ""r' "^r"*^'" ^^"^^^ '^'^*^ '^^^''i"C is touching.
^nrlfn^ • / •^* f' w^' •■• '^^««'''>. to usc as a brand or sword. The
*L f I ' ."" o^' ' " ^'■°'" "•''^«'' the present participle.
iilL-.- S- ^ffi^-^^.'^^A^^-that on which the blows /a//.
Ugntiome = light or cheerful, a poetic word now :—
"The lightsome realms of love."— Dryden.
Bugle-horn. Literally a horn of the bugle, or buculus. Lat, wild-ox
It was a cup or a musical instrument.
19-— The scene changes to Loch Katrine. Note the animated man-
norm which the transition is indicated. Note, also, thTSaS
./^.«;«./a„..5 mtroduced,-the sunset, the lowering scowl, Sbluf
strange gusts, eddying surge, all in harmony with the te^rSe work
going on in the gorge. The effrct is rendered more appalSg b^he
suggcsttve descrrptton: the imagination is filled with7ea flf fancies
eaX>^^fe''"''^-r\edir:r'i'" '°""' " "'^'^^^'"^ "^^ ground 5' lik"e an
earthquake — The dirge of many a passing sou ." When at last the
armies appear to our surprise they are separated ; the mount^neers a e
defeated but they have foiled their pursuers ouuiaineers are
ufr* / ■ ''^"^'./'■°"3.^-^^*- ''^■'■''^' t« go J "sed literally here,
fhlr'if '°'"-^'-'^'- O-FrrV/V. 1.:,%. insula. Similar words are
Sk » H ""\'f' """'' ""■ ^■",':^'- N°t^ that island is not cognate with
thL bX? tS^t t' '^' :i°' '■'^'''' '" 'V '^"^ ^^« Probably inserted unde
from A c; ^ 7°'? '' * Compound of isle and land, whereas it comes
from AS. ca, or Icel. ey, and /./«^. The German form is euTnd
while island is Iceland in German and French '
cllJjfl"'' T > • ^"^li ''''' S''^' T'^ ^''' ,'^*^*''"' ^'^ ^«'- y^'^^ to rush.
na'oTpass^agr^^^ '^ *'^°^* <''^™^^ ^-" ^'^^ --d)) ^-ce, a
Spake is not usually transitive.
But With, etc. But is a preposition connecting the followinc tihrase
With the verb/«r/.. It limits the general negltive by excepting thS
ii
' 'M
■vm
m
■" "i<««^i'«wJ4iL.«.^".^^;^(«8
2H
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vt.
special case "with," etc.. and 7vith will still connect its noun with the
verb.
Parting. A favourite word with the poets for departing.
Olrge. From " Dirigi; Dominc, Deus, Mens," etc., Psalm v. 8, or
from the beginning of some Roman Catholic hymn sung at funerals.
It is the imperative of diric;o^ to direct. Cf. Pater Noster^ Ave Maria.
Mass (t/itssu est), Tc Dcum, miserere, etc.
Martial. From Mars, the god of war. Cf. cereal, jovial, panic,
mercurial, etc.
Havocit, generally spelled havoc. A. S. hafoc. W. hafog, destruc-
tion. It was often used in hawking, and is supposed by some to be
cognate with hawk.
Bay. A hunting term applied to deer when they turn on the dogs,
tluis standing to be bayed or barked at.
20. — In this stanza the past tense is used almost throughout. The
student will not fail to see how tame it is compared witli the present
tense. Indeed, the present tense would be a great addition, especially
in the last lines. We can scarcely imagine the minstrel seeing and
hearing wliat occurred on "yon isle," for he was seated where " Locli
Katrine lay beneath him cast ; " the present tense would have removed
the difficulty by bringing tlie vision before the readers. It would be a
good class exercise to change the construction.
Aslcance. (Ital. scaneio, slanting), obliquely ; they were partly facing
the island.
Lance. Lat. lancca, probably used for the rhyme.
Wring the hand. The sounds weak here. It is an antiquated form
now, but yet common in Scotland.
Booty. A. S. hot, compensation, from betan, to make better ; hence,
we have to boot, a verb = to profit, as " what boots it ; " boot, a noun ~
advantage, and bootless. Booty is the plunder obtained from a raid.
Wont. Here is a past tense like -wanned in " Alice Brand," it =
were accustomed.
Bonnet-pieces store. A coin on which the king's head had a bonnet
instead of a crown. It was coined by James V., who, as the " Commons'
King," omitted the crown. Store is probably liere a noun = abundance,
its usual employment, and of is to be supplied before bonnet-pieces.
Bowshot. The adverbial object of distance.
Duncraggan's widowed dame. See iii. 18, where her martial qual-
ities prepare us for this deed.
An "ale. Note the contrast between this scene and that when
Ellen's boat stood underneath this oak. (See i. 17.)
In John de Brent and Duncraggan's widow we have a glimpse at the
power Scott afterwards de'^eloped in his novels of depicting wild, lawless
men and masculine women, the only variety of woman he could success-
fully portray, as Meg Dods, Meg Merrilees, etc.
21. — The battle and Roderick's life come to a sudden stop, thus
giving us a dottble surprise. We feel the fitness of his death on the
fiofaaf nf b.ifi r!an. He could never submit : his "roud s'^irit was not
made for thraldom. The circumstances of his death move our pity ;
yve forget his faults and heartily join in the " lament," Roderick was
CANTO vi.] NOTES-THE GUARD-ROOM. 21^
to be the " obstacle "-the evil cliaractcr, whose punishment ^^//V jus-
J/« demands before the poem ended, but his qualities are so great that
^\^J^r magmUj^e makes themrespedahU.^^k he overshadows all the
res , even " the Lady ' herself. Scott has been censured for this, and
certamly the mterest of the plot is distracted to a considerable decree by *
?nl*^.'"''?. l-^""", *^""' especially now, since his death atones for all.
Indeed, with his death the dramatic interest ceases.
Elemental. A favourite word in poetry and ridiculed as such by
Shakespeare, who, however, several times uses it for sky, as air was one
of the four elements,-fire, earth, air, water,— '
' And the complexion of the element."— 7«//«j Ccesar
" The element itself
Shall not behold iier face."-
-Twelfth Night.
Herald's voice. Note the condensation in this passage. The kniirht
mentioned '"'"^ "'' '^'""" ^^ '"' '"^^' "* leaft no others are
Grim and Stilj. Epithets transferred from the person to his spirit.
and"had fledT" ^'^"^''"'^ ''' ^'^^^''^ ^"'l "leaning between this
22,--Tho " Lament " has another variation in the metre. It is in
triplets repeated three times in the stanza, wl^ich in turn is repeated
three times. Note that the chief points that captivate us in Roderick's
character and life are mentioned,— his bravery towards foes, aid to his
can, lonely death in grief and in prison, the grief of his clan, his sad
lot in life, ending with the strongest— in ^ttxy—love
There area few figures, but the student should now be able to detect
and examine them himself.
23.-Note the sudden transition. Not a word to denote the change
except the While, which, by the way, is used so frequently as to be a
inannerism. Note also that it is the chief love interest that comes on
the stage now. Nothing else could affect us after the death of Roderick
Ellen s regretful longing for the simple joys of " that lone isle," is a piece
ot natural sentiment that goes to the heart of every one. While her
heart is •' bursting " with the remembrance of those dear to her her
father, her lover, and even her companion, Lufra-now, perhaps, all
lost to her forever— the splendour of the " Jordlv tower " and the ob-
sequiousness of the "menial train" are unheeded. Our ///vis thus
strongly aroused for her, for i^ / »
, " 'Tis truth the poet sings
Ihat sorrow s crown of sorrows is remembering happier things."
— Tennvson.
et there is one powerful charm that can arouse her from her gloom
and by a happy chance it is present. Note that we are recalled to Mal-
colm, so that we know who the singer in the next stanza is. Love of
country is also suggested here. Every one knows Scott's linp« on thi«
sentiment in " The Lay," Canto vii., beginning with— ^
•* Breathes there a man with soul so dead,"
I
*ii6
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vr.
Notice, also, that Lufra is not forgotten. Tliis is a piece of Scott's
self-painting^ for love of clogs was a passion with him : Camp, Nimrod,
Maida, etc., were in turn his favourites ; to the latter he erected a
marble tomb. See v. i8.
Storied pane = illuminated windows, having historical figures painted
on them. Cf. Gray's " storied urn," i.e., with the stories written. In
•' storied past " we have a different meaning — rich in story, or " old in
story."
Gilded roof. Cf. Gray's " fretted vault," and Milton's " The
roof was fretted gold," and Shakespeare's, —
" This majestical roof fretted with golden fire."
Omen. From oscinis, a divining bird, from Lat. os, mouth, and
cano, to divine.
At random = by chance, or not such as the question would require.
Latticed bOWI»r., i.e., having lattice windows. Lattice (same root as
lath) means a fraiue made of' cross bars or laths either of wood or iron.
Bower (as buan, to dwell ; cf. boor, neighbour) had this meaning of
"chamber" or "lodging-room." Cf.
" She led him up into a godly boaver." — Spencer.
Now its ordinary meaning is a " shady recess " or arbour. C£.
" In shadier bower
Pan or Sylvanus never slept." — Milton.
24.— This is probably the weakest of the lyrics in this poern. It
abounds in alliteration, and expresses very well the intense longing for
freedom of a bold young spirit,— a distinct variety of the feeling from
that felt by Roderick Dhu. (See 14.)
Dull steeple's drowsy chime is very expressive ; so is crawl.
Not a hall of Joy. Note the emphatic sense of not. It is rhetori-
cally more than a mere negative.
25. — Brave Fit2-James. Note Scott's habit of applying the term
brave on all occasions to his heroes. James had shown no bravery to
Ellen, hence with her it is a mere poetical epithet ; but s".ch epithets
belong to the " bold Robin Hood " age.
The boon to give = to give the boon is not in my power.
Boon = prayer, favour, from A. S. ben, a prayer; Dan. /' """5 ^"^^ =*'« his favourite
rsi V ,\ ' M f .t^ sm'le," " graceful "-a weak word here. " Fair "
VuLV'ernwH ' '^K^ Vf' "^^ ^^^ "'^J " ^°' ^'^'^ "°"" = synecdoche.
,hni?Kv ? u**' ^ *'°" ' °'^" contempt for the common people is
the^Commnn,' 'iF'^'^M "'r?'/'^'''- . " '^ "«* * ^^PP^ «pressi?n for
th^^ Commons Kirg. Vulgar, however, has its old meaning, "gen-
cowt ^*'"* *"'* Glencalrn represent the enemies of the Douglas at
Gray. An example of metonymy, as it suggests age.
trees ''^'"^''^'^' * ^^'■°"gh°^^ "^^^e of the W '»
Treacheroui. Faithless, from Lat. tr.ido=.(/r^«j, over,
to betray. Provencal, trachar. The French form is traitoroin
Loyal. The French form of /r^.// (Lat. lex, law); A. S. lawful.
i hese three words have followed the course of all words of which dif-
ferent forms exist, and have now almost entirely different mean-
ings. Legal --==\n accordance with, or instituted by law and
IS strictly scientific, as "a legal holiday," "legal enactment." 'z^a/-
m^ permitted by law as something usual or right ; as, " lawful con-
duct," 'I every lawful day." Zoj^Z _ (i ) obedient to law, as "loyal
neople, but it has been transferred from law (2) to the representa-
tive oljaw, the king; hence, a loyalist may have no reference to
law. From the last it has (3) the meaning of faithful to one's friends,
true-hearted. Leal is also used ; it is the old Romanic form. Cf
Ihe land of the leal" (heaven), and Cf.
" There Laodamia with Evadne moves,
Unhappy both, but loyal in tlieir loves."— Drydhn.
THE FAREWELL.
Harp of the North, farewell (see first Canto). By this he means
Scotland as the north of the island. The minstrel poetry most abound-
1 ba^lS't^r'':? ''rf''"'k'"^ ""' '" *'^f ""'■"'• ^'^^^ '^ «>'"P^y adopting
a ballad term. Cf " 1 here is scarcely an old historical song or ballad
wherein a Minstrel or Harper appears, but he is characterized by way
ot eminence to have been ' of the north country.' * * ♦ On the
other hand, the scene of the finest Scottish ballads is laid in the south of
"There can be, I conceive, no Question as to +h«. or. There is a />erso»itd
mployed."" ' '"^ ^''' ""'P' ^"^^^^'^^^«'^'''' is vef/^Slly
Yet once again. A pleasing anapJwra. How regretfully we say
farewell to those we love ; so the poet lingers on it V re by reMitwn
Feeble sway. l^oA^^t self-deprcciation. See Canto i '^''""'"•
Idly cavil. It was rather severely criticized by Jeffrey, but it re-
mains his most popular poem, ^ j, >■> y i<. i^
CANTO VI.] NOTES—THE GUARD-ROOM. aai
Secret woei. So Goldsmith address poetry as—
" My shame in crowds, my solitary pride ;
rium source of all my bliss and allniy woe,
Thou found'bt me poor at first and keep'st me so."
- Dcstrttd Villagt,
Scott is probably here referring to his unrequited love, whose power
he could so well paint in Roderick Dhu. He had indulged, for nearly
SIX years, the hope of marrying a Miss Stuart Belches. It was his first
and only passion ; the real circumstances of the refusal, however, the
'world has never known," and never will know. Thirty years kfter
when Scott had lost all his property, and shortly after the death of his
wife, he met this lady, then the wife of Sir Wm. Forbes a n d in h s
"Has fit"frno!hin""H ?'t '\r '^' '^^^^ ^"'"^ misunderslding
^"ttiZ^Z^^^,^ hopes in this attachment he
anything he afterwa^dlwrote 1 ^''~'' ^""*'^"' ^"'^ ^«1'"^« ^
" 1"'}* V'Olet in her greenwood I owe r,
Where birchen boughs with iiazels mingle.
May boast itself the fairest flnwrr ^ '
In glen, in copse, or forest dingle.
Though fair her gems of azure hue.
Beneath the dew^lrop's weight reclining,
I ve seen an eye of lovelier blue, '
More sweet through watery lustre shining.
The summer sun that dew shall dry
fcre yet the day be past its morroW ;
Nor longer in my false love's eye
Remained the tear of parting sorrow."
him "o'c^nc'^ai* hi's gdef^nd"'nrntn""^, ''°-"' "'^ ^^"* P"^^ '^^
him to m^arry within a vear H. , ^[ ^1°' '^ '^ ' ''^^ that"^ induced
when suffer ng cm Sis financial collanL "' l\ '"' P"'^' '''"^ after,
paSrVSthfEnc'"n"trts ' «"^' ^— ^- 'description of the de-
^IS^St^^J^X^'^ mimbers" is a fine imagmation
..,., When the . nablefSd:^.S^-SS^S^-^^^^
lil
m
'm^ -'WB
222 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, [canto vi.
on the law of assimilation and constitutes our " strong form«," which
occur in the comparison of adjs., the formation of nouns and verba by
radical change, the number of nouns and m tense. Let the student
siiow examples of each of these " strong forms."
Touch oi Bre -^ impassioned music. It is a common metaphor to
represent feeling by warmth and the absence of it by coldness.
Rugged dell. Once more notice Scott's intense fondness for rugged
lanilsc.ijK's and mountains. His descriptions of such are always true,
but he fails when he attempts the beautiful in its more regular forms
He, for this reason, loved the Border country : " There was something
bold, stern, and solitary about it," he said to Washington Irving ;
when I have been for some time m the rich scenery about Edinburgh,
I wish myself back among my honest gray hills ; and if I did not see the
heather at least once a year, I think I should die."— Lockhart's Lt/e
VOCABULARY OF PROPER NAMES.
The following forms will be found useful to know in ascertaining the
meanin- of Celtic words —Al =- white ; nvi, high ; raw, a rushing ;%//i,
a lord; auc/i,7i field; avon,an,a. river; /^n the Foui A',;/rf against Roxburgh Castle. .Slain, with 2,000 followersi.-
at Vernocl, 1424. '
(1) Archibald "Rcll-the-Cat," who Rot his name from his part in re-
movins the KinR s favourites. The nobles, in secret conclave, rcsolvnd
to rid the King names 111.) of his minions, but their plans were about
to f;»ll through, like tho.se of the mice in the fable, for want of a mouse
sutTiciently brave to put a bell on the cat, when Angus said, " I will fii//
the cat. ' (Read Marmion, v. iS. ) This same earl stoutly oppo.sed the
fatal expedition wh.ch ended in l- loddcn, i si v After this fatal day in
which Ihs two sons were slain, he retired intoa religious house, and died
within a year.
(4.) The graiidson of " ncll-theCat " succeeded to the title, and soon
after married the Queen Dowager. He .soon came into collision with
the regent Allwny ; and, after being twice banished, was cho.sen one of
a council of three to take care of the young I'rince James V But he
refused to give him un, keeping him practically a prisoner (see v. 6).
riihng m his stca«|. After various unsuccessful attempts to rescue the
I rincr, he csc.-ipcd of his own accord and assumed the reins of uowcr.
of which his first act was to forbid the Douglases to come within six
niiles of his presence. Angus fortified himself in Tantallon, and refus-
ing to obty in reference to some further depredations, the place was
dung down •' (razed), his property forfeited, and he banishe(f
.f ft.% ,Ta *■. f'"'''" '* *" imaginary person, a supposed uncle
of the Karl of Angus, but the king's behaviour during an unexpected
mteryicw with the laird of Kilspindie, one of the banLVed I ouKs
« mniated from a real story told by f hime of rHMlscr<.ft.''-ScoT r '
TinTlV f''" •^[/^ y"""^;. 'brother of Jatncs HI. On the death of
f^om K yn;i^Lr"i ' u'^f^'"'" *" "''"'"'• ^^'' '■'=K^"^V. He returned
from Pr.mce (whither he h.id gone to escape his brother) and brought
a French re mue and French habits. After holding feeble and inter-
rupted rule for nine years, he finally withdrew to France, 1 C24
Tweed fo Spey. Rivers on the south and north of Scotland ; hence
V^n'T T"'",T"' 'i ^?"'".^- ^* '^ '""*^*^^ f"-*^'" ^'^e I^iW; "from
P.m to Bcershcba." Similar phrases are "from Land's End to John
VOCAHULARY OK i'KOl'KK NAMKS, 225
O'Groat's," "from Sarnia to (iaspC;." " Stratlispcy " is the valUv ot
the Spcy, now mostly applied to a dance takinK itnnamc thence.
Clan-Alpine intlndcd all flcscmde.l from Kenneth McAlpine, an
aiuieiit kn\g. ,i|,L.so included the MacxrcKors, the (irant«, MacliicB,
Mackmnons, Mai Nabs, etc. 'Jlu; pine tree was tiieir emblem.
Koderuk Dim of the pucm is an ima;/<-; alb white.) avon=*
GlanLusi ^ " the la^h ,^leHr runs into Lomond.
Leven Glen. " The level valley," between Lomrmd and the Clvd^
Percyand the Douglas fought th'e battle of ()tterln n n , 88 ^The
pennon (having the crescent and three silv, . stars) was taken in a skir-
mish but llotsnur attacked the Scots to recover it. Me wa" 1 owcv r
defeated an-y Chasc, though most of'irn.
Clients are ( fferent. Chevy Chase comes from chevauchce, a hr,-,e
m^'''^^'^n ''"'''''"''" ^^"^-''■•-.thc "hunt onthe'Ci^evio?
niiis, wnicli it really was.
Olenfiniai . "the grey-white valley." .Scott states in the notes on
his "(denfmlas" that It was called the Valley of the Green Woman
from the incident he celebrates in that poem. vvoman,
1 ^i^'T^''* '".""r '^•'''O". or Kelpie, a malignant spirit of the Hiffh-
hnd Likes and rivers. The "noontide hag," in Gaelic, Glas-nch,iiz
gigantic female figure, haunting various districts.
Ben Shie (ben a woman -sigh, a fairy) -- the f-iry's wife, Sup.
posed to foretell death by shrieks, ^
226
THE LAt)V OF THE LAKE.
Coir Uriskin =. " the den of the Urisks
r wild men," a cleft
the north side of Benvenue Th^ i T-fcu""' ' """'"en.a clett on
a human body and a goat^'-feef ' ^""^ ''"''"^^^^^ ^'^^ ^^^^^ *" having
wa^S" "'^' '^"^^ '" '''' '^^-^^^^hs. It contains "Teith'syounj
sideof£;rK';«„e!''""«''''""''^'''- F-™^"-, -gh. The north
of a newly slain bul]ockwSde„oSl„, "^ f" ""PP<"i m the hide
problem during the ShTInd was Jl,. h ."»'"'»" ""Wnk "»er the
r«w, crooked, /•<-«, a head ^i'// a fnrrn a ^-^^^ f^ ^-^ (From
SLW or the K„r.h; Ci^X'^<^!r:,^^lS^ »H..e
ants;;ini„?t;:.trt:hE^
rairies The bcmj^s referred to arc a variety of fairies tli*. n!,.-
Si?inwr'r-';? . ^""^ Highlanders belSed totot n^aTev"
lent If mterfered witli m any way, as bv taJkini? of them wearinrtllpn
clothes, huntmg their favourite deer, in uring their tre"s or nrvfnlintn
their secrets They envied mortals the privileges of bantism T ,. r
ranks were filled by kidnapping mortals, as in thf story. ^^ ^^''"
James Fllz-James. This was not a name assumed by Tames in hi,
?over"v t',^"* '1 ''^" '"^^"*'«" °^ ^^e poet to avoid the'^dlngerod^
M^n/of tl^ •'■'■ "r'7\^^'^" "Gudeman (farmer) of Balfenguich ''
r^^ency S A?£n^^^^^^^^ ?^^ ^""'^^d to in the poem the
his escaoe in ^^\^^u- ■■^■' ^'^ ^"ipnsonment by Angus (v.), and
nis escape to Stirling ; his mtimacv with France (i. and v 1 and «
effects chiefly seen in the troubles of his reign. He vfi France in
Ma\'; o? G iSr^ili^a^f ^'^?'i^^ king's da^gMe^aTd'^n ife'Et "
Allan « " the white river," in Perth, Empties into the Forth,
VoCAiiULARY OF PROPER NAMES 22^
SnliiHrV ^'"'J^"'° Streams," south of the Ochil hills.
CoHantOgle ::= CoU-ayi-t ogle, " the noisy water by the heieht " (A
UndS''"".;^' *''" '''"]^ P'^f'" "^•"•'V' " the rocky hill."
Lenarlck = " the smooth rkge" (lan-riec\ Blair Dnimmni. « iu
//. « on the>4.//." Ochtertyre i '^L hi?lyfield?' °'"'"""'"' *^*
centi'i^j!''' """ "^^ "''^ ^"''- ^' ^^^ ' ^°y^^ ^"'dence in the fifteenth
Robin Hood. A famous outlaw the snhTPrf r^f »«o«„ u n j
posed ,0 hav, lived be..ee„ the [^L oTSu ^ TrLS^EtWd"".-
His chief residence was Sherwood Forest The mn«t ^^IIa (^-t 1*
lowers ,ere Little John (Nailor); William sXlocf'o/ Scar et
One1c?ourst;t^s"fhat\™""'^ ""' ^"^^ ^"^^' -"*^^^ MaHon!
-s'CTtVSejJ'al'ut ;j^"^-«-- Robert Fitzooth; that he
^Tumbardine = " .he bard's knoll," in Perth, an old seat of the
John de Brent may be founded on Tom Purdie 9rnft'c «ni:<. „. o
^0^'%"'°'^^ ^^l^^^V^^ Scott's" tS;t' w'erbr^ughtlfl^
him tor poaching, and whom he kept in his service till the last