THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 James J. McBride 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 Margaret McBride
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 IN SIX CANTOS.
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE- 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 BY 
 
 WALTER SCOTT, Esq. 
 
 THE EIGHTH EDITION. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 JOHN BALLANTYNE AND CO. EDINBURGH ; 
 
 AND 
 
 LONGMAN, HURST, REES, OKME, AND BROWN, AND 
 
 W. MILLER, LONDON; 
 
 By James Ballantyne and Co. Edinburgh. 
 
 1810.
 
 
 TO 
 
 THE MOST NOBLE 
 
 JOHN JAMES, 
 
 MARQUIS OF ABERCORN, 
 
 4rc. 4^. &;c. 
 
 THIS POEM IS INSCRIBED 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 ind!22'1S
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Scene of the following Poem is laid chiefly in tJie 
 vicinity of Loch-Katrine, in the Western Highlands 
 of Perthshire. The Time of Action includes Six 
 Days, and the transactions of each day occupy a 
 Canto.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE, 
 
 Canto I. The Chase . . , i 
 
 II. The Island : 45 
 
 III. The Gathering 95 
 
 rv. The Prophecy I4i 
 
 V. The Combat 189 
 
 VI. The Guard-Room 241 
 
 Notes to Canto I ; 295 
 
 Canto II 309 
 
 Canto III 3SS 
 
 Canto TV ses 
 
 Canto V 399 
 
 Canto VI , 419
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 CANTO FIRST 
 
 %^t C8a0e»
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 'Ef)t Cfjagu 
 
 xl ARP of the North ! that mouldering long hast hung 
 
 On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring, 
 And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, 
 
 Till envious ivy did around thee cling, 
 Muffling with verdant ringlet every string, — 
 
 O minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep ? 
 Mid rustlinjT leaves and fountains murmuring. 
 
 Still nmst thy sweeter sounds their silence keep, 
 Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep ?
 
 4 THE LADY 01-' THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon, 
 
 Was thy voice mute ajnid the festal crowd. 
 When lay of hopeless love, or glory won, 
 
 Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud. 
 At each according pause, was heard aloud 
 
 Thine ardent symphony sublime and high ! 
 Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bow'd ; 
 
 For still the burthen of thy minstrelsy 
 Was Knighthood's dauntless deed, and Beauty's 
 matchless eye. 
 
 O wake once more ! how rude soe'er the hand 
 
 That ventures o'er thy magic maze to stray j 
 O wake once more ! though scarce my skill command 
 
 Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay : 
 Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away,. 
 
 And all unworthy of thy nobler strain. 
 Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 
 
 The wizard note has not been touched in vain. 
 Then silent be no more ! Enchantress, wake again !
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 
 
 I. 
 
 X HE Stag at eve had drunk his fili, 
 
 Where danced the moon on Monan's rU], 
 
 And deep his midnight lair had made 
 
 In lone Glenartney's hazel shade ; 
 
 But, when the sun his beacon red 
 
 Had kindled on Benvoirlich's head, 
 
 The deep-mouthed blood-hound's heavy bay 
 
 Resounded up the rocky way. 
 
 And faint, from farther distance borne. 
 
 Were heard the clanging hoof and horn. 
 
 II. 
 
 As chief who hears his warder call, 
 
 *' To arms ! the foemen storm the wall,''
 
 6 THE LADY Of THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 The antler*d monarch of the waste 
 
 Sprung fi'oni 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, 
 
 Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky ; 
 
 A moment gazed adown the dale, 
 
 A moment snuffed the tainted gale, 
 
 A moment listen'd to the cry, 
 
 That thickened as the chace drew nigh ; 
 
 Then, as the headmost foes appeared, 
 
 With one brave bound the copse he cleared. 
 
 And, stretching forward free and far. 
 
 Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var. 
 
 III. 
 
 Yelled on the view the opening pack, 
 
 Rock glen and cavern paid them back ; 
 
 To many a mingled sound at once 
 
 The awakened mountain gave response. 
 
 
 iJ
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 
 
 An hundred dogs bayed deep and strong, 
 Clattered an hundred steeds along, 
 Their peal the merry horns rung out, 
 An hundred voices joined the shout ; 
 With hark and whoop and wild halloo, 
 No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. 
 Far from the tumult fled the roe, 
 Close in her covert cowered the doe, 
 The falcon, from her cairn on high, 
 Cast on the rout a wondering ^ye, 
 Till far beyond her piercing ken 
 The hurricane had swept the glen. 
 Faint, and more faint, its failing din 
 Returned from cavern, cliff, and Hnn, 
 And silence settled, wide and still, 
 On the lone wood and mighty hill. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Less loud the sounds of sylvan war 
 Disturbed the heights of Uam-Var,
 
 8 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO T. 
 
 And roused the cavem, where 'tis told 
 A ffiant made his den of old j 
 For ere that steep ascent was won, 
 High in his path-way hung the sun, 
 And many a gallant, stayed per-force. 
 Was fain to breathe his faultering horse ; 
 And of the trackers of the deer 
 Scarce half the lessening pack was near ; 
 So shrewdly, on the mountain side. 
 Had the bold burst their mettle tried. 
 
 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 wander'd o'er 
 Mountain and meadow, moss and moor, 
 And pondered refuge from his toil. 
 By far Lochard or Aberfoyle-
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 
 
 But nearer was the copse-wood gray, 
 That waved and wept on Loch-Achray, 
 And mingled with the pine-trees blue 
 On the bold cliffs of Ben- venue. 
 Fresh vigour with the hope returned. 
 With flying foot the heath he spurned, 
 Held westward with unwearied race, 
 And left behind the panting chase. 
 
 VI. 
 
 'Twere long to tell what steeds gave o'er. 
 As swept the hunt through Cambus-more ; 
 What reins were tightened in despair. 
 When rose Benledi's ridge in air ; 
 Who flagged upon Bochastlo's heath. 
 Who shunned to stem the flooded Teith, — 
 For twice, that day, from shore to shore. 
 The gallant Stag swam stoutly o'er. 
 Few were the stragijlcrs, following far. 
 That reached the lake of Vennachar;
 
 10 THE LADY OV THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 And when the Brigg of Turk was won, 
 The headmost Horseman rode alone. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Alone, but with unbated zeal, 
 
 That horseman plied the scourge and steel ; 
 
 For, jaded now, and spent with toil, 
 
 Embossed with foam, and dark with soil, 
 
 While every gasp with sobs he drew, 
 
 The labouring Stag strained full in view. 
 
 Two dogs of black Saint Hubert*s breed. 
 
 Unmatched for courage, breath, and speed, 
 
 Fast on his flying traces came, 
 
 And all but won that desperate game ; 
 
 For, scarce a spear's length from his haunch. 
 
 Vindictive toiled the blood-hounds staunch ; 
 
 Nor nearer might the dogs attain. 
 
 Nor farther might the quarry strain. 
 
 Thus up the margin of the lake. 
 
 Between the precipice and brake. 
 
 O'er stock and rock their race they take.
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. U 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The hunter marked that mountain high, 
 The lone lake's western boundary, 
 And deemed the Stag must turn to bay, 
 Where that huge rampart barred the way ; 
 Already glorying in the prize. 
 Measured his antlers with his eyes ; 
 For the death-wound, and death-halloo, 
 Mustered his breath, his whinyard drew ; 
 But thundering as he came prepared. 
 With ready arm and weapon bared, 
 The wily quari-y shunned the shock, 
 And turned him from the opposing rock ; 
 Then, dashing down a darksome glen, 
 Soon lost to hound and hunter's ken, 
 In the deep Trosach's wildest nook 
 His solitary refuge took. 
 There while, close couched, the thicket shed 
 Cold dews and wild flowers on his head.
 
 12 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 He heard the baffled dogs in vain 
 Rave through the hollow pass amain, 
 Chiding the rocks that yeUed again. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Close on the hounds the hunter came, 
 To cheer them on the vanished game ; 
 But, stumbHng 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 highland eagle e'er should feed 
 On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ! 
 Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day. 
 That costs thyUfe, my gallant grey !" —
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 13 
 
 X. 
 
 Then through the dell his horn resounds. 
 From vain pursuit to call the hounds. 
 Back hmped, 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 
 Prok)nged the swelling bugle-note. 
 The owlets started from their dream, 
 The eagles answered with their scream. 
 Round and around the sounds were cast, 
 Till echo seemed an answering blast ; 
 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 show'd.
 
 14 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 XI. 
 
 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 Shinar's plain. 
 The rocky summits, split and rent, 
 Formed turret, dome, or battlement, 
 Or seemed fantastically set 
 With cupola or nfinaret,
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 15 
 
 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 displayed, 
 
 Far o'er the unfathomable glade, 
 
 All twinkling with the dew-drop sheen, 
 
 The briar-rose fell in streamers green. 
 
 And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes. 
 
 Waved in the west-wind's summer sighs. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Boon nature scattered, free and wild. 
 Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. 
 Here eglantine embalmed the air, 
 Hawthorn and hazel mingled there; 
 The primrose pale, and violet flower, 
 Fomid in each cliif a narrow bower ; 
 Fox-glove and night-shade, side by side, 
 Emblems of punishment and pride, *
 
 16 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CAN 10 1- 
 
 Grouped tlieir dark hues with every stain, 
 The weather-beaten crags retain. 
 With boughs that quaked at every breath. 
 Grey birch and aspen wept beneath ; 
 Aloft, the ash and warrior oak 
 Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; 
 And higher yet the pine-tree himg 
 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, 
 Wliere glistening streamers waved and danced, 
 The wanderer's eye could barely view 
 The summer heaven's delicious blue ; 
 So wondrous wild, the whole might seem 
 The scenery of a fairy dream. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep 
 
 A narrow inlet still and deep, 
 
 9
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 17 
 
 Affording scarce such breadth of brim. 
 As served the wild-duck* s brood to swim ; 
 Lost for a space, through thickets veering. 
 But broader when again appearing, 
 Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face 
 Could on the dark-blue mirror trace ; 
 And farther as the hunter stray'd. 
 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 hiD, 
 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.
 
 18 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, 
 
 The hazel saplings lent their aid ; 
 
 And thus an airy point he won, 
 
 Where, gleaming with the setting sun, 
 
 One burnish'd sheet of living gold. 
 
 Loch- Katrine lay beneath him rolled ; 
 
 In all her length far winding lay, 
 
 With promontory, creek, and bay. 
 
 And islands that, empurpled bright, 
 
 Floated amid the livelier light ; 
 
 And mountains, that like giants stand. 
 
 To centinel enchanted land. 
 
 High on the south, huge Benvenue 
 
 Down to the lake in masses threw 
 
 Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled. 
 
 The fragments of an earlier world j 
 
 A wildering forest feathered o'er 
 
 His ruined sides and summit hoar,
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 
 
 While on the north, through middle air, 
 Ben-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 ! 
 On this bold brow, a lordly tower ; 
 In that soft vale, a lady's bower ; 
 On yonder meadow, far away, 
 The turrets of a cloister grey. 
 How blithely might the bugle-horn 
 Chide, on the lake, the lingering morn ! 
 How sweet, at eve, the lover's lute 
 Chime, when the groves were still and mute I 
 And, when the midnight moon should lave 
 Her forehead in the silver wave. 
 How solemn on the ear would come 
 The holy matin's distant hum, 
 
 IS 
 
 19
 
 20 THE LADT OF THE LAKE. CANTO t- 
 
 While the deep peal's commanding tone 
 Should wake, in yonder islet lone, 
 A sainted hermit from his cell. 
 To drop a bead with every knell — 
 And bugle, lute, and bell, and all, 
 Should each bewildered stranger call 
 To friendly feast, and lighted hall. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 ** Blithe were it then to wander here I 
 But now, — beshrew yon nimble deer, — 
 Like that same hermit's, thin and spare. 
 The copse must give my evening fare ; 
 Some mossy bank my couch must he,,'' 
 Some rustling oak my canopy- 
 Yet pass we that ; — the war and chase 
 Give little choice of resting-place ; — 
 A summer night, in green-wood spent, 
 Were but to-morrow's merriment j 
 But hosts may in these wilds abound. 
 Such as are better missed than found ;.
 
 eANTO I. THE CHASE. 21 
 
 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 faulchion 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, 
 
 The beach of pebbles bright as snow.
 
 22 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 The boat had touch'd this silver strand, 
 Just as the Hunter left his stand. 
 And stood concealed amid the brake, 
 To view this Lady of the Lake. 
 The maiden paused, as if again 
 She thought to catch the distant strain. 
 With head up-raised, and look intent. 
 And eye and ear attentive bent. 
 And Jocks flung back, and lips apart. 
 Like monument of Grecian art. 
 In listening mood, she seemed to stand 
 The guardian Naiad of the strand. 
 
 XVIIL 
 
 And ne'er did Grecian chizzel trace 
 
 A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, 
 
 Of finer form, or lovelier face ! 
 
 What though the sun, with ardent frown. 
 
 Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown, — 
 
 The sportive toil, which, short and light. 
 
 Had dyed her glowing hue so bright,
 
 CANTO r. THE CHASE. 23 
 
 Served too in hastier swell to show 
 
 Short glimpses of a breast of snow : 
 
 What though no rule of courtly grace 
 
 To measured mood had trained her pace, — 
 
 A foot more hght, a step more true, 
 
 Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew ; 
 
 E*en the slight hare-bell raised its head, 
 
 Elastic from her airy tread : 
 
 What though upon her speech there hung 
 
 The accents of the mountain tongue, — 
 
 Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear, 
 
 The list'ner held his breath to hear, 
 
 XIX. 
 
 A chieftain's daughter seemed the maid ; 
 Her sattin snood, her silken plaid. 
 Her golden brooch, such birth betray'd. 
 And seldom was a snood amid 
 Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid, 
 Whose glossy black to shame might bring 
 The plumage of the raven's wing j
 
 24 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 And seldom o'er a breast so fair. 
 Mantled a plaid with modest care, 
 And never brooch the folds combined 
 Above a heart more good and kind. 
 Her kindness and her worth to spy, 
 You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ; 
 Not Katrine, in her mirror blue. 
 Gives back the shaggy banks more true. 
 Than every free-born glance confessed 
 The guileless movements of her breast ; 
 Whether joy danced in her dark eye. 
 Or woe or pity claimed a sigh, 
 -Or filial love was glowing there. 
 Or meek devotion poured a prayer. 
 Or tale of injury called forth 
 The indignant spirit of the north. 
 One only passion, unrevealed. 
 With maiden pride the maid concealed, 
 Yet not less purely felt the flame j — 
 O need I teil that passion's name !
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 
 
 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, 
 
 Advancino- from the hazel shade. 
 
 o 
 
 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 j 
 (So forth the startled swan would swing, 
 So turn to prune his ruffled wing,) 
 Then safe, though fluttered and amazed, 
 She paused, and on the stranger gazed.
 
 26 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 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, 
 
 Yet had not quenched the open truth, 
 
 And fiery vehemence of youth ; 
 
 Forward and frolic glee was there. 
 
 The will to do, the soul to dare. 
 
 The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire, 
 
 Of hasty love, or headlong ire. 
 
 His limbs were cast in manly mould, 
 
 For hardy sports, or contest bold ; 
 
 And though in peaceful garb arrayed, 
 
 And weaponless, except his blade. 
 
 His stately mien, {is well implied 
 
 A high-born heart, a martial pride. 
 
 As if a baron's crest he wore. 
 
 And sheathed in armour trod the shore.
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. ^^ 
 
 Slighting the petty need he showed, 
 
 He told of his benighted road ; 
 
 His ready speech flowed fair and free, 
 
 In phrase of gentlest courtesy ; 
 
 Yet seemed that tone, and gesture bland, 
 
 Less used to sue than to command. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 A while the maid the Stranger eyed, 
 And, reassured, at last replied. 
 That highland haUs were open still 
 To wildered wanderers of the hill. 
 *' Nor think you unexpected come 
 To yon lone isle, our desert home ; 
 Before the heath had lost the dew. 
 This morn, a couch was pulled for you ; 
 On yonder mountain's purple head 
 Have ptarmigan and heath-cock bled. 
 And our broad nets have swept the mere. 
 To furnish forth your evening cheer."—
 
 28 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO 1. 
 
 ** Now, by the rood, my lovely maid, 
 Your courtesy has erred," he said ; 
 " No right have I to claim, misplaced. 
 The welcome of expected guest. 
 A wanderer here, by fortune tost, 
 My way, my friends, my courser lost, 
 I ne'er before, believe me, fair, 
 Have ever drawn your mountain air, 
 Till on this lake's romantic strand, 
 I found a fay in fairy land." — 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " I well believe," the maid replied, 
 As her light skiff approached the side, 
 " I well believe, that ne'er before 
 Your foot has trod Loch-Katrine's shore ; 
 But yet, as far as yesternight. 
 Old AUan-bane foretold your plight, — 
 A gre3'^-haired sire, whose eye intent 
 Was on the visioncd future bent.
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 29 
 
 He saw your steed, a dappled grey, 
 
 Lie dead beneath the birchen way ; 
 
 Painted exact your form and mien. 
 
 Your hunting suit of Lincohi green, 
 
 That tassell'd horn so gaily gilt. 
 
 That faulchion's crooked blade and hilt, 
 
 That cap with heron's plumage trim, 
 
 And yon two hounds so dark and grim. 
 
 He bade that all should ready be. 
 
 To grace a guest of fair degree ; 
 
 But light I held his prophecy. 
 
 And deemed it was my father's horn. 
 
 Whose echoes o'er the lake were borne." — 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The Stranger smiled : — ** Since to your home, 
 A destined errant knight I come, 
 Announced by prophet sooth and old, 
 Doomed, doubtless, for achievement bold, 
 I'll lightly front each high emprize, 
 For one kind glance of those bright eyes ;
 
 30 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO r. 
 
 Permit me, first, the task to guide 
 
 Your fairy frigate o'er the tide." — 
 
 The maid, with smile suppressed and sly, 
 
 The toil unwonted saw him try ; 
 
 For seldom, sure, if e'er before. 
 
 His noble hand had grasped an oar : 
 
 Yet with main strength his strokes he drew, 
 
 And o'er the lake the shallop flew ; 
 
 With heads erect, and whimpering cry, 
 
 The hounds behind their passage ply. 
 
 Nor frequent does the bright oar break 
 
 The darkening mirror of the lake, 
 
 Until the rocky isle they reach, 
 
 And moor their shallop on the beach. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The Stranger viewed the shore around j 
 'Twas all so close with copse- wood bound, 
 Nor track nor path-way might declare 
 *rhat human foot frequented there,
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 51 
 
 Until the mountain-maiden showed 
 A clambering unsuspected road, 
 That winded through the tangled screen, 
 And opened on a narrow green. 
 Where weeping birch and willow round 
 With their long fibres swept the ground j 
 Here, for reti'eat in dangerous hour. 
 Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 It was a lodge of ample size, 
 
 But strange of structure and device ; 
 
 Of such materials, as around 
 
 The workman's hand had readiest found. 
 
 Lopped of their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, 
 
 And by the hatchet rudely squared. 
 
 To give the walls their destined height. 
 
 The sturdy oak and ash unite ; 
 
 While moss and clay and leaves combined 
 
 To fence each crevice from the wind.
 
 32 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 The lighter pine-trees, over-head, 
 
 Their slender length for rafters spread. 
 
 And withered heath and rushes dry 
 
 Supplied a russet canopy. 
 
 Due westward, fronting to the green, 
 
 A rural portico was seen, 
 
 Aloft on native pillars borne, 
 
 Of mountain fir with bark unshorn. 
 
 Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine 
 
 The ivy and Idaean vine. 
 
 The clematis, the favoured flower. 
 
 Which boasts the name of virgin-bower. 
 
 And every hardy plant could bear 
 
 Loch- Katrine's keen and searching air. 
 
 An instant in this porch she staid. 
 
 And gaily to the Stranger said, 
 
 " On heaven and on thy lady call, 
 
 And enter the enchanted hall !" —
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. SS 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " My hope, my heaven, my trust must be, 
 
 My gentle guide, in following thee."— 
 
 He crossed the threshold — and a clang 
 
 Of angry steel that instant rang. 
 
 To his bold brow his spirit rushed, 
 
 But soon for vain alarm he blushed, 
 
 When on the floor he saw displayed. 
 
 Cause of the din, a naked blade 
 
 Dropped from the sheath, that careless flung 
 
 Upon a stag's huge antlers swung j 
 
 For all around, the walls to grace. 
 
 Hung trophies of the fight or chase : 
 
 A target there, a bugle here, 
 
 A battle-axe, a hunting spear. 
 
 And broad-swords, bows, and arrows store. 
 
 With the tusked trophies of the boar. 
 
 Here grins the wolf as when he died, 
 
 And there the wild-cat's brindled hide
 
 34 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO X. 
 
 The frontlet of the elk adorns, 
 Or mantles o'er the bison's horns ; 
 Pennons and flags defaced and stained, 
 That blackening streaks of blood retained, 
 And deer-skins, dappled, dun, and white, 
 With otter's fur and seal's unite. 
 In rude and uncouth tapestry all, 
 To garnish forth the sylvan hall. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The wondering Stranger round him gazed, 
 
 And next the fallen weapon raised ; — 
 
 Few were the arms whose sinewy strength 
 
 Sufficed to stretch it forth at length. 
 
 And as the brand he poised and swayed, 
 
 *< I never knew but one," he said, 
 
 " Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield 
 
 A blade Mke this in battle field." — 
 
 She sighed, then smiled and took the word ; 
 
 " You see the guardian champion's sword ;
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 35 
 
 As light it trembles in his hand, 
 
 As in my grasp a hazel wand j 
 
 My sire's tall form might grace the part 
 
 Of Ferragus, or Ascabart ; 
 
 But in the absent giant's hold 
 
 Are women now, and menials old." — 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The mistress of the mansion came, 
 
 Mature of age, a graceful dame ; 
 
 Whose easy step and stately port 
 
 Had well become a princely court. 
 
 To whom, though more than kindred knew. 
 
 Young Ellen gave a mother's due. 
 
 Meet welcome to her guest she made. 
 
 And every courteous rite was paid, 
 
 That hospitality could claim. 
 
 Though all unasked liis birth and name. 
 
 Such then the reverence to a guest. 
 
 That fellest foe might join the feast,
 
 86 THE LADY OF THE t-AKE. CANTO I. 
 
 And from his deadliest focman's door 
 
 Unquestion'd tuin, the banquet o*er. 
 
 At length his rank the Stranger names, 
 
 *' The knight of Snowdoun, James Fitz-James; 
 
 Lord of a barren heritage. 
 
 Which his brave sires, from age to age, 
 
 By their good swords had held with toil j 
 
 His sire had fallen in such turmoil, 
 
 And he, God wot, was forced to stand 
 
 Oft for his rifjht with blade in hand. 
 
 This morning with Lord Moray's train 
 
 He chased a stalwart stag in vain. 
 
 Out-stripped his comrades, missed the deer. 
 
 Lost his good steed, and wandered here." — 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Fain would the Knight in turn require 
 The name and state of Ellen's sire j 
 Well shewed the elder lady's mien, 
 That courts and cities she had seen j
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 37 
 
 Ellen, though more her looks displayed 
 The simple grace of sylvan maid. 
 In speech and gesture, form and face, 
 Shewed she was come of ffentle race : 
 'Twere strange in ruder rank to find 
 Such looks, such manners, and such mind. 
 Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave. 
 Dame Margaret heard with silence grave j 
 Or Ellen, innocently gay. 
 Turned all inquiry light away : — 
 " Wierd women we ! by dale and down, 
 We dwell afar from tower and town. 
 We stem the flood, we ride the blast. 
 On wandering knights our spells we cast ; 
 While viewless minstrels touch the strinff. 
 'Tis thus our charmed rhymes we sing." — 
 She sung, and still a harp unseen 
 Filled up the symphony between.
 
 38 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 *' Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o*er, 
 
 Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; 
 Dream of battled fields no more, 
 
 Days of danger, nights of waking. 
 In our isle's enchanted hall, 
 
 Hands unseen thy couch are strewing. 
 Fairy strains of music fall. 
 
 Every sense in slumber dewing. 
 Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o*er. 
 Dream of fighting fields no more; 
 Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking. 
 Morn of toil, nor night of waking. 
 
 " No rude sound shall reach thine ear. 
 Armour's clang, or war-steed champing. 
 
 Trump nor pibroch summon here 
 
 Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
 
 CANTO I. 'i HE CHASE. 59 
 
 Yet the lark's shrill fife may come 
 
 At the day-break from the fallow, 
 And the bittern sound his drum, 
 
 Booming from the sedgy shallow. 
 Ruder sounds shall none be near, 
 Guards nor warders challenge here, 
 Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing. 
 Shouting clans or squadrons stamping." — 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 She paused — then, blushing, led the lay 
 To grace the stranger of the day ; 
 Her mellow notes awhile prolong 
 The cadence of the flowing song, 
 Till to her lips in measured frame 
 The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 
 
 &ong conttnuetit 
 
 *♦ Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done. 
 While our slumbrous spells assail ye, 
 
 Dream not, with the rising sun. 
 Bugles here shall sound reveillie.
 
 40 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; 
 
 Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying ; 
 Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen, 
 
 How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
 Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done, 
 Think not of the rising sun, 
 For at dawning to assail ye, 
 Here no bugles sound reveillie." — 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The hall was cleared— the Stranger's bed 
 Was there of mountain heather spread, 
 Where oft an hundred guests had lain, 
 And dreamed their forest sports again. 
 But vainly did the heath-flower shed 
 Its moorland fragrance round his head ; 
 Not Ellen's spell had lulled to rest 
 The fever of his troubled breast. 
 In broken dreams the imaije rose 
 Of varied perils, pains, and woes ;
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 41 
 
 His steed now flounders in the brake, 
 
 Now sinks his barge upon the lake j 
 
 Now leader of a brt)ken host, 
 
 His standard falls, his honour's lost. 
 
 Then, — irom my couch may heavenly might 
 
 Chase that worst phantom of the night ! — 
 
 Again returned the scenes of youth, 
 
 Of confident undoubting truth ; 
 
 Again his soul he interchanged 
 
 With friends whose hearts were lonff estranged. 
 
 They come, in dim procession led, 
 
 The cold, the faithless, and the dead j 
 
 As warm each hand, each brow as gay, 
 
 As if they parted yesterday. 
 
 And doubt distracts him at the view, 
 
 O were his senses false or true ! 
 
 Dreamed he of death, oj- broken vow, 
 
 Or is it all a vision now !
 
 4* THE LADY OF THE LAKE. eANfO I. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 At length, with Ellen in a grove, 
 
 He seemed to walk, and speak of love j 
 
 She listened with a blush and sigh, 
 
 His suit was warm, his hopes were high. 
 
 He sought her yielded hand to clasp. 
 
 And a cold gauntlet met his grasp : 
 
 The phantom's sex was changed and gone. 
 
 Upon its head a helmet shone ; 
 
 Slowly enlarged to giant size, 
 
 With darkened cheek and threatening eyes. 
 
 The grisly visage, stern and hoar, 
 
 To EUen still a likeness bore. — 
 
 He woke, and, panting with affright. 
 
 Recalled the vision of the night. 
 
 The hearth's decaying brands were red, 
 
 And deep and dusky lustre shed, 
 
 Half shewing, half concealing all 
 
 The uncouth trophies of the hall.
 
 CANTO I. THE CHASE. 43 
 
 Mid those the Stranger fixed his eye 
 Where that huge faulchion hung on high, 
 And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng, 
 Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along, 
 Until, the giddy whirl to cure. 
 He rose, and sought the moon-shine pure. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The wild rose, eglantine, and broom, 
 Wasted around their rich j)erfume ; 
 The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm, 
 The aspens slept beneath the calm ; 
 The silver light, with quivering glance, 
 Played on the water's still expanse, — 
 Wild were the heart whose passion's sway 
 CouJd rage beneath the sober ray ! 
 He felt its calm, that warrior guest, 
 While thus he communed with his breast : 
 ** Why is it at each turn I trace 
 Some memory of that exiled race ?
 
 44 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO I. 
 
 Can I not mountain maiden spy, 
 But she must bear the Douglas eye ? 
 Can I not view a highland brand, 
 But it must match the Douglas hand ? 
 Can I not frame a fevered dream, 
 But still the Douglas is the theme ? — 
 I'll dream no more — ^by manly mind 
 Not even in sleep is will resigned. 
 My midnight orisons said o'er, 
 I'll turn to rest, and dream no more." — 
 His midnight orison he told, 
 A prayer with every bead of gold, 
 Consigned to heaven his cares and woes, 
 And sunk in imdisturbed repose ; 
 Until the heath-cock shrilly crew, 
 And morning dawned on Benvenue. 
 
 END OF CANTO FIRST.
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE, 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 %f)t 3(0lant»f
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 ■Cfie Mmt3. 
 
 I. 
 
 At morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing, 
 
 'Tis morning prompts the linnet's blithest lay, 
 All Nature's children feel the matin spring 
 
 Of life reviving, with reviving day ; 
 And while yon little bark glides down the bay, 
 
 Wafting the stranger on his way again, 
 Morn*s genial influence roused a Minstrel grey, 
 
 And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain, 
 Mix'd with the sounding harp, O white-haired 
 Allan-bane !
 
 48 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO II. 
 
 ll. 
 
 *' Not faster yonder rowers' might 
 Flings from their oars the spray, 
 
 Not faster yonder rippling bright, 
 
 That tracks the shallop's course in hght. 
 Melts in the lake away, 
 
 Than men from memory erase 
 
 The benefits of former days j 
 
 Then, Stranger, go 1 good speed the while. 
 
 Nor think again of the lonely isle, 
 
 " High jilace to thee in royal court, 
 
 High place in battled hne. 
 Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport. 
 Where Beauty sees the brave resort, 
 
 The honoured meed be thine ! 
 True be thy sword, thy friend sincere. 
 Thy lady constant, kind and dear,
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. -59 
 
 And lost in love*s and friendship's smile, 
 Be memory of the lonely isle. 
 
 III. 
 
 ^0110 tomtttueti. 
 
 " But if beneath yon southern sky 
 
 A plaided stranger roam, 
 Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh, 
 And sunken cheek and heavy eye. 
 
 Pine for his highland home ; 
 Then, warrior, then be thine to show 
 The care that soothes a wanderer's woe ; 
 Remember then thy hap ere while 
 A stranger in the lonely isle. 
 
 " Or if on life's uncertain main 
 
 Mishap shall mar thy sail ; 
 If faithful, wise, and brave in vain. 
 Woe, want, and exile thou sustain 
 
 Beneath the fickle gale ; 
 
 D
 
 50 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO II. 
 
 Waste not a sigh on fortune changed, 
 On thankless courts, or friends estranged. 
 But come where kindred worth shall smile, 
 To greet thee in the lonely isle." — 
 
 IV. 
 
 As died the sounds upon the tide. 
 
 The shallop reached the main-land side, 
 
 And ere his onward way he took. 
 
 The Stranger cast a lingering look, 
 
 Where easily his eye might reach 
 
 The harper on the islet beach. 
 
 Reclined against a blighted tree. 
 
 As wasted, grey, and worn as he. 
 
 To minstrel meditation given. 
 
 His reverend brow was raised to heaven. 
 
 As from the rising sun to claim 
 
 A sparkle of inspiring flame. 
 
 His hand, reclined upon the wire. 
 
 Seemed watching the awakening fire ;
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 51 
 
 So still he sate, as those who wait 
 
 Till judgment speak the doom of fate ; 
 
 So still, as if no breeze might dare 
 
 To lift one lock of hoary hair ; 
 
 So still, as life itself were fled. 
 
 In the last somid his harp had sped. 
 
 V. 
 
 Upon a rock with lichens wild. 
 Beside him Helen sate and smiled. 
 Smiled she to see the stately drake 
 Lead forth his fleet upon the lake, 
 Wliile her vexed spaniel, from the beach. 
 Bayed at the prize beyond his reach ? 
 Yet tell me then the maid who knows. 
 Why deepened on her cheek the rose ? — 
 Forgive, forgive, fidelity ! 
 Perchance the maiden smiled to see 
 Yon parting lingerer wave adieu. 
 And stop and turn to wave anew j
 
 52 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO ll- 
 
 And, lovely ladies, ere your ire 
 Condemn the heroine of my lyre, 
 Shew me the fair would scorn to spy, 
 And prize such conquest of her eye ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 While yet he loitered on the spot, 
 It seemed as Ellen marked him not j 
 But when he turned him to the glade, 
 One courteous parting sign she made j 
 And after, oft the knight would say, 
 That not when prize of festal day 
 Was dealt him by the brightest fair, 
 Who e'er wore jewel in her hair, 
 So highly did his bosom swell, 
 As at that simple mute farewell. 
 Now -with a trusty mountain guide, 
 And his dark stag-hounds by his side, 
 He parts — the maid, unconscious still, 
 Watched him wind slowly round the hill ;
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 53 
 
 But when his stately form was hid, 
 
 The guardian in her bosom chid — 
 
 " Thy Malcolm ! vain and selfish maid !" 
 
 'Twas thus upbraiding conscience said, 
 
 <' Not so had Malcolm idly hung 
 
 On the smooth phrase of southern tongue j 
 
 Not so had Malcolm strained his eye 
 
 Another step than thine to spy — 
 
 " Wake, Allan-bane," aloud she cried, 
 
 To the old Minstrel by her side, 
 
 ** Arouse thee from thy moody dream ! 
 
 1*11 give thy harp heroic theme, 
 
 And warm thee with a noble name ; 
 
 Pour forth the glory of the Graeme." — 
 
 Scarce from her Up the word had rushed. 
 
 When deep the conscious maiden blushed ; 
 
 For of his clan, in hall and bower. 
 
 Young Malcolm Graeme was held the flower.
 
 ^^ 
 
 
 54 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. OANTO ir. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Minstrel waked his harp — three times 
 Arose the well-known martial chimes, 
 And thrice their high heroic pride 
 In melancholy murmurs died. 
 — " Vainly thou bidst, O noble maid," 
 Clasping his withered hands, he said, 
 Vainly thou bidst me wake the strain, 
 
 (( 
 
 Though all unwont to bid in vain. 
 
 Alas ! than mine a mightier hand 
 
 Has tuned my harp, my strings has spanned .' 
 
 I touch the choids, of joy, but low 
 
 And mournful answer notes of woe ; 
 
 And the proud march which victors tread. 
 
 Sinks in the wailinjj for the dead. — 
 
 O well for me, if mine alone 
 
 That dirge's deep prophetic tone ! 
 
 If, as my tuneful fathers said, 
 
 This harp, which erst Saint Modan swayed, 
 
 7
 
 CAKTOir. THE ISLAND. 55 
 
 Can thus its master's fate foretel, 
 Then welcome be the minstrel's knell ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 *' But ah ! dear lady, thus it sighed 
 
 The eve thy sainted mother died ; 
 
 And such the sounds which, while I strove 
 
 To wake a lay of war or love, 
 
 Came marring all the festal mirth, 
 
 Appalling me who gave them birth. 
 
 And, disobedient to my call, 
 
 Wailed loud through Bothwell's bannered hall. 
 
 Ere Douglasses to ruin driven, 
 
 Were exiled from their native heaven. — 
 
 Oh ! if yet worse mishap and woe 
 
 My master's house must undergo, 
 
 Or aught but weal to Ellen fair. 
 
 Brood in these accents of despair, 
 
 No future bard, sad harp ! shall fling 
 
 Triumph or rapture from thy string j
 
 56 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO 11. 
 
 One short, one final strain shall flow, ^' 
 
 Fraught with unutterable woe, 
 Then shivered shall thy fragments lie, 
 Thy master cast him down and die." — 
 
 IX. 
 
 Soothing she answered him, " Assuage, 
 
 Mine honoured friend, the fears of age ; 
 
 All melodies to thee are known. 
 
 That harp has rung, or pipe has blown. 
 
 In lowland vale or highland glen, 
 
 From Tweed to Spey — what marvel, then. 
 
 At times, unbidden nptes should rise, 
 
 Confusedly bound in memory's ties. 
 
 Entangling, as they rush along. 
 
 The war-march with the funeral song ? — 
 
 Small ground is now for boding fear ; 
 
 Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. 
 
 My sire, in native virtue great. 
 
 Resigning lordsliip, lands, and state.
 
 (TANTOII. THE ISLAND. 57 
 
 Not then to fortune more resigned, 
 
 Than yonder oak might give the wind ; ^J^A^ 
 
 The graceful foliage storms may reave. 
 
 The noble stem they cannot grieve. ^ 
 
 For me,'* — she stooped, and, looking round, 
 
 Plucked a blue hare-bell from the ground, 
 
 ** For me, whose memory scarce conveys 
 
 An image of more splendid days, 
 
 This little flower, that loves the lea, 
 
 May well my simple emblem be ; 
 
 It drinks heaven's dew as blithe as rose 
 
 That in the King's own garden grows, 
 
 And when I place it in my hair, 
 
 Allan, a bard is bound to swear 
 
 He ne'er saw coronet so fair." — 
 
 Then playfully the chaplet wild 
 
 She wreathed in her dark locks, and smiled. 
 
 X. 
 
 Her smile, her speech, with winning sway. 
 Wiled the old harper's mood away.
 
 S8 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO II. 
 
 With such a look as hermits throw 
 When angels stoop to soothe their woe, 
 He gazed, till fond regret and pride 
 Thrilled to a tear, then thus repHed : 
 ** Loveliest and best ! thou Httle know'st 
 The rank, the honours thou hast lost ! 
 O might I live to see thee grace, 
 In Scotland's court, thy birth-right place, 
 To see my favourite's step advance, 
 The lightest in the courtly dance, 
 The cause of every gallant's sigh. 
 And leading star of every eye, 
 And theme of every minstrel's art. 
 The Lady of the Bleeding Heart !'* f — 
 
 XL 
 
 *' Fair dreams are these," the maiden cried, 
 (Light was her accent, yet she sighed,) 
 " Yet is this mossy rock to me 
 Worth splendid chair and canopy ; 
 
 ' The well-known cognizance of tlie Douglas famil3'.
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 59 
 
 Nor would my footstep spring more gay 
 In courtly dance than blithe strathspey, 
 Nor half so pleased mine ear incline 
 To royal minstrel's lay as thine ; 
 And then for suitors proud and high, 
 To bend before my conquering eye. 
 Thou, flattering bard ! thyself wilt say. 
 That grim Sir Roderick owns its sway. 
 The Saxon scourge, Clan-Alpine's pride, 
 The terror of Lochlomond's side, 
 Would, at my suit, thou know'st, delay 
 A Lennox foray — for a day." — 
 
 XII. 
 The ancient bard his glee repressed ; 
 " 111 hast thou chosen theme for jest ! 
 For who, through all this western wild, 
 Named Black Sir Roderick e'er, and smiled ! 
 In Holy-Rood a knight he slew ; 
 I saw, when back the dirk he drew. 
 Courtiers give place before the stride 
 Of the undaunted homicide;
 
 60 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO II. 
 
 And since, though outlawed, hath his hand 
 
 Full sternly kept his mountain land. 
 
 Who else dared give, — ah ! woe the day, 
 
 That I such hated truth should say — 
 
 The Douglas, like a stricken deer. 
 
 Disowned by every noble peer, 
 
 Even the rude refuge we have here ? 
 
 Alas, this wild marauding chief 
 
 Alone might hazard our relief, 
 
 And now thy maiden charms expand. 
 
 Looks for his guerdon in thy band ; 
 
 Full soon may dispensation sought. 
 
 To back his suit from Rome be brought. 
 
 Then, though an exile on the hiU, 
 
 Thy father, as the Douglas, still 
 
 Be held in reverence and fear 5 
 
 And though to Roderick thou*rt so dear. 
 
 That thou might'st guide with silken thread. 
 
 Slave of thy will, this chieftain dread ; 
 
 Yet, O loved maid, thy mirth refrain ! 
 
 Thy hand is on a lion's mane." —
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 61 
 
 XIII. 
 
 " Minstrel," the maid replied, and high 
 Her father's soul glanced from her eye, 
 *' My debts to Roderick's house I know: 
 All that a mother could bestow, 
 To Lady Margaret's care I owe, 
 Since first an orphan in the wild 
 She sorrowed o'er her sister's child j 
 To her brave chieftain son, from ire 
 Of Scotland's king who shrouds my sire, 
 A deeper, holier debt is owed ; 
 And, could 1 pay it with my blood, 
 Allan ! Sir Roderick should command 
 My blood, my life, — but not my hand. 
 Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell 
 A vot'ress in Maronnan's cell ; 
 Rather through realms beyond the sen, 
 Seeking the world's cold charity. 
 Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word. 
 And ne'er the name of Douglas heard.
 
 62 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO 11. 
 
 An outcast pilgrim will she rove. 
 Than wed the man she cannot love. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 *' Tliou shakest, good friend, thy tresses gray- 
 That pleading look, what can it say 
 But what I own ? — I grant him brave. 
 But wild as Bracklinn's thundering wave ; 
 And generous — save vindictive mood. 
 Or jealous transport, chafe his blood : 
 I grant him true to friendly band. 
 As his claymore is to his hand ; 
 But O ! that very blade of steel 
 More mercy for a foe would feel : 
 I grant him liberal, to fling 
 Among his clan the wealth they bring. 
 When back by lake and glen they wind, 
 And in the Lowland leave behind, 
 Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 
 A mass of ashes slaked with blood.
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 65 
 
 The hand that for my father fought, 
 
 I honour, as his daughter ought ; 
 
 But can I clasp it reeking red, 
 
 From peasants slaughtered in their shed ? 
 
 No ! wildly while his virtues gleam. 
 
 They make his passions darker seem, 
 
 And flash along his spirit high, 
 
 Like lightning o'er the midnight sky. 
 
 While yet a child, — and children know, 
 
 Instinctive taught, the friend and foe, — 
 
 I shuddered at his brow of gloom. 
 
 His shadowy plaid, and sable plume j 
 
 A maiden grown, I ill could bear 
 
 His haughty mien and lordly air ; 
 
 But, if thou join'st a suitor's claim. 
 
 In serious mood, to Roderick's name, 
 
 I thrill with anguish ! or, if e'er 
 
 A Douglas knew the word, with fear. 
 
 To change such odious theme were best, — 
 
 What think'st thou of our stranger guest ?"—
 
 M THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO il. 
 
 XV. 
 
 ♦' What think I of him ? — woe the while 
 That brought such wanderer to our isle ! 
 Thy father's battle-brand, of yore 
 For Tine-man forged by fairy lore. 
 What time he leagued, no longer foes. 
 His Border spears with Hotspur's bows, 
 Did, self-unscabbarded, fore-show 
 The footstep of a secret foe. 
 If courtly spy, and harboured here. 
 What may we for the Douglas fear ? 
 "What for this island, deemed of old 
 Clan- Alpine's last and surest hold I 
 If neither spy nor foe, I pray 
 What yet may jealous Roderick say ? 
 — Nay, wave not thy disdainful head ! 
 Bethink thee of the discord dread, 
 That kindled when at Beltane game 
 Thou ledst the dance with Malcolm Graeme; 
 
 6 
 
 /
 
 CANTO II, THE ISLAND. 66 
 
 Still, though thy sire the peace renewed. 
 Smoulders in Roderick's breast the feud j 
 Beware ! — But hark, what sounds are these ? 
 My dull ears catch no faultering breeze, 
 No weeping birch, nor aspens wake, 
 Nor breath is dimpling in the lake. 
 Still is the canna's * hoary beard. 
 Yet, by my minstrel faith, I heard — 
 And hark again ! some pipe of war 
 Sends the bold pibroch from afar."— 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Far up the lengthened lake were spied 
 Four darkening specks upon the tide. 
 That, slow enlarging on the view. 
 Four manned and masted barges grew. 
 And bearing downwards from Glengyle, 
 Steered full upon the lonely isle ; 
 
 * Cotton-crsiss. 
 
 E
 
 66 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO H» 
 
 The point of Brianchoil they passed, 
 
 And, to the windward as they cast, 
 
 Against the sun they gave to shine 
 
 The bold Sir Roderick's bannered pine. 
 
 Nearer and nearer as they bear, 
 
 Spears, pikes, and axes flash in air. 
 
 Now might you see the tartans brave, 
 
 And plaids and plumage dance and wave 5 
 
 Now see the bonnets sink and rise. 
 
 As his tough oar the rower plies ; 
 
 See, flashing at each sturdy stroke. 
 
 The wave ascending into smoke ; 
 
 See the proud pipers on the bow, 
 
 And mark the gaudy streamers flow 
 
 From their loud chanters * down, and sweep 
 
 The furrowed bosom of the deep. 
 
 As, rushing through the lake amain. 
 
 They plied the ancient highland strain. 
 
 * The drone of the bag-pipe.
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 67 
 
 • 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Ever, as on they bore, more loud 
 
 And louder rung the pibroch proud. 
 
 At first the sound, by distance tame, 
 
 Mellowed along the waters came. 
 
 And, lingering long by cape and bay. 
 
 Wailed every harsher note away ; 
 
 Then bursting bolder on the ear. 
 
 The clan's shrill Gathering they could hear ; 
 
 Those thrilling sounds, that call the might 
 
 Of old Clan- Alpine to the fight. 
 
 Thick beat the rapid notes, as when 
 
 The mustering hundreds shake the glen. 
 
 And, hurrying at the signal diead. 
 
 The battered earth returns their tread. 
 
 Then prelude light, of hvelier tone. 
 
 Expressed their merry marching on. 
 
 Ere peal of closing battle rose, 
 
 With mingled out-cry, shrieks, and blows ;
 
 68 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO 11. 
 
 And mimic din of stroke and ward, 
 As broad-sword upon target jarred j 
 And groaning pause, ere yet again. 
 Condensed, the battle yelled amain ; 
 The rapid charge, the rallying shout, 
 Retreat borne headlong into rout. 
 And bursts of triumph, to declare 
 Clan-Alpine's conquest— all were there. 
 Nor ended thus the strain ; but slow, 
 Sunk in a moan prolonged and low, 
 And changed the conquering clarion swell, 
 For wild lament o'er those that fell. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The war-pipes ceased ; but lake and hill 
 Were busy with their echoes still ; 
 And, when they slept, a vocal strain 
 Bade their hoarse chorus wake again. 
 While loud a hundred clans-men raise 
 Their voices in their Chieftain's praise.
 
 CANSO ir. THE ISLAND. 63 
 
 Each boat-man, bending to his oar, 
 With measured sweep the burthen bore. 
 In such wild cadence, as the breeze 
 Makes through December's leafless trees. 
 The chorus first could Allan know, 
 *' Roderigh Vich Alpine, ho ! iro !'* 
 And near, and nearer as they rowed. 
 Distinct the martial ditty flowed. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Boat ^ottg* 
 
 Hail to the chief who in triumph advances ! 
 
 Honoured and blessed be the ever-green Pine ! 
 Long may the Tree in his banner that glances. 
 Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! 
 
 Heaven send it happy dew. 
 
 Earth lend it sap anew, 
 Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, 
 
 While every highland glen 
 
 Sends our shout back airen, 
 ** Roderigh Vich Alpine dim, Iio ! ieroe !'*
 
 79 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO ll; 
 
 Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, 
 
 Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ; 
 When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the 
 mountain, 
 The more shall Clan- Alpine exult in her shade. 
 Moored in the rifted rock, 
 Proof to the tempest's shock. 
 Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; 
 Menteith and Breadalbane, then, 
 Echo his praise agen, 
 " Roderigh Vich Alpine dliu, ho ! ieroe !' 
 
 i>» 
 
 XX. 
 
 Proudly our pibroch has thrilled in Glen Fruin, 
 And Banochar's groans to our slogan replied ; 
 Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin. 
 And the best of Loch-Lomond lie dead on her 
 side. 
 Widow and Saxon maid 
 Long shall lament our raid.
 
 CAiJTOJi. tHE ISLAND. 71 
 
 Think of Clan- Alpine with fear and with woe j 
 
 Lennox and Leven-glen 
 
 Shake when tliey hear agen, 
 " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe !' 
 
 ijj 
 
 Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands ! 
 
 Stretch to your oars, for the ever-green Pine ! 
 O ! that the rose-bud that graces yon islands. 
 
 Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine ! 
 
 O that some seedling gem, 
 
 Worthy such noble stem. 
 Honoured and blessed in their shadow might grow ! 
 
 Loud should Clan- Alpine then 
 
 Ring from her deepmost glen, 
 " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe I" 
 
 XXL 
 
 With all her joyful female band. 
 Had Lady Margaret sought the strand. 
 Loose on the breeze their tresses flew. 
 And high their snowy arms they threw,
 
 72 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO II. 
 
 As echoing back with shrill acclaim, 
 
 And chorus wild, the chieftain's name ; 
 
 While, prompt to please, with mother's art, 
 
 The darling passion of his heart. 
 
 The Dame called Ellen to the strand. 
 
 To greet her kinsman ere he land : 
 
 " Come, loiterer, come ! a Douglas thou, 
 
 And shun to wreathe a victor's brow ?*' — 
 
 Reluctantly and slow, the maid 
 
 The unwelcome summoning obeyed, 
 
 And, when a distant bugle rung. 
 
 In the mid-path aside she sprung : — 
 
 ** List, Allan-bane ! From main-land cast, 
 
 I hear my father's signal blast. 
 
 Be ours," she cried, *' the skiff to guide. 
 
 And waft him from the mountain side." — 
 
 Then, like a sun-beam, swift and bright, 
 
 She darted to her shallop light. 
 
 And, eagerly while Roderick scanned. 
 
 For her dear form, his mother's band,
 
 CANTO 11. THE ISLAND. 75 
 
 The islet far behind her lay, 
 And she had landed in the bay. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Some feelings are to mortals given, 
 With less of earth in them than heaven j 
 And if there be a human tear 
 From passion's dross refined and clear, 
 A tear so Kmpid and so meek, 
 It would not stain an angel's cheek, 
 'Tis that which pious fathers shed 
 Upon a duteous daughter's head ! 
 And as the Douglas to his breast 
 His darling Ellen closely pressed. 
 Such holy drops her tresses steep'd. 
 Though 'twas an hero's eye that weep'd. 
 Nor while on Ellen's faultering tongue 
 Her filial welcomes crowded hung, 
 Marked she, that fear, (affection's proof,) 
 iStill held a gracefiil youth aloof;
 
 ^4 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO 1/. 
 
 No ! not till Douglas named his name. 
 Although the youth was Malcolm Graeme. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Allan, with wistful look the while, 
 
 Marked Roderick landing on the isle ; 
 
 His master piteously he eyed, 
 
 Then gazed upon the chieftain's pride. 
 
 Then dashed, with hasty hand, away 
 
 From his dimmed eye the gathering spray ; 
 
 And Douglas, as his hand he laid 
 
 On Malcolm's shoulder, kindly said, 
 
 ** Can'st thou, young friend, no meaning spy 
 
 In my poor follower's glistening eye ? 
 
 I'll tell thee : — he recalls the day. 
 
 When in my praise he led the lay 
 
 O'er the arched gate of Bothwell proud, 
 
 WTiile many a minstrel answered loud. 
 
 When Percy's Norman pennon, won 
 
 In bloody field, before me shone, 
 
 13
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 75 
 
 And twice ten knights, tlie least a name 
 As mighty as yon chief may claim, 
 Gracing my pomp, behind me came. 
 Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud 
 Was I of all that marshalled crowd. 
 Though the waned crescent owned my might, 
 And in my train trooped lord and knight. 
 Though Blantyre hymned her holiest lays, 
 And Bothwell's bards flung back my praise, 
 As when this old man's silent tear. 
 And this poor maid's affection dear, 
 A welcome give more kind and true. 
 Than aught my better fortunes knew. 
 Forgive, my friend, a father's boast ; 
 O ! it out-beggars all I lost !" — 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Delightful praise ! — like summer rose, 
 That brighter in the dew-drop glows, 
 The bashful maiden's cheek appeared. 
 For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard.
 
 76 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO II. 
 
 The flush of shame-faced joy to hide, 
 The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide ; 
 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 
 0*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 fair, and slender frame, 
 But firmly knit, was Malcolm Grreme.
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 77 
 
 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, 
 
 Out-stripped in speed the mountaineer ; 
 
 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.
 
 78 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO II. 
 
 Yet friends, who nearest knew the youth, 
 His scorn of wrong, his zeal for truth. 
 And bards, who saw his features bold, 
 When kindled by the tales of old. 
 Said, were that youth to manhood grown. 
 Not long should Roderick Dhu's renown 
 Be foremost voiced by mountain fame. 
 But quail to that of Malcolm Graeme. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Now back they Avend 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 I have left. 
 I met young Malcolm as I strayed 
 Far eastward, in Gleufinlas' shade.
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. T9 
 
 Nor strayed I safe ; for, all around, 
 Hunters and horsemen scoured the ground. 
 This youth, though still a royal ward, 
 Risqued life and land to be my guard. 
 And through the passes of the wood 
 Guided my steps, not unpursued ; 
 And Roderick shall his welcome make, 
 Despite old spleen, for Douglas* sake. 
 Then must he seek Strath-Endrick glen, 
 Nor peril aught for me agen." — 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Sir Roderick, who to meet them came, 
 Reddened at sight of Malcohu Grairac, 
 Yet, not in action, word, or eye. 
 Failed aught in hospitality. 
 In talk and sport they whiled away 
 The morning of that summer day j 
 But at high noon a courier light 
 Held secret parley with the knight,
 
 80 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO If. 
 
 Whose moody aspect soon declared. 
 That evil were the news he heard. 
 Deep thoughts seemed toiling in his head ; 
 Yet was the evening banquet made, 
 Ere he assembled round the flame, 
 His mother, Douglas, and the Graeme, 
 And Ellen, too ; then cast around 
 His eyes, then fixed them on the ground. 
 As studying phrase that might avail 
 Best to convey unpleasant tale. 
 Long with his dagger*s hilt he played, 
 Then raised his haughty brow, and said : 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 *' Short be my speech ; — nor time affords, 
 
 Nor my plain temper, glozing words. 
 
 Kinsman and father, — if such name 
 
 Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick's claim ; 
 
 Mine honoured mother 5 Ellen — ^why, 
 
 My cousin, turn away thine eye ? — 
 
 12
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 81 
 
 And Graeme ; in whom I hope to know 
 Full soon a noble friend or foe. 
 When age shall give thee thy command, 
 And leading in thy native land, — 
 List all ! — The King's vindictive pride 
 Boasts to have tamed the Border-side, 
 Where chiefs, with hound and hawk who came 
 To share their monarch's sylvan game. 
 Themselves in bloody toils were snared. 
 And when the banquet they prepared. 
 And wide their loyal portals flung, 
 0*er their own gate-way struggling hung. 
 Loud cries their blood from Meggat's mead. 
 From Yarrow braes, and banks of Tweed, 
 Where the lone streams of Ettricke glide. 
 And from the silver Teviot's side j 
 The dales, where martial clans did ride. 
 Are now one sheep-walk waste and wide. 
 This tyrant of the Scottish throne, 
 So faithless, and so ruthless known, 
 
 F
 
 a3 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANM II. 
 
 Now hither comes j his end the same, 
 
 The same pretext of sylvan game. 
 
 What grace for Highland chiefs judge ye, 
 
 By fate of Border chivalry. 
 
 Yet more j amid Glenfinlas green, 
 
 Douglas, thy stately form was seen. 
 
 This by espial sure I know : 
 
 Your counsel in the streight I show."— 
 
 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 Malcohn Graeme ; 
 But from his glance it well appeared, 
 *Twas but for Ellen that he feared ; 
 While sorrowful, but undismay'd. 
 The Douglas thus his counsel said :
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 83 
 
 ** Brave Roderick, thougli the tempest roar, 
 
 It may but thmider 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 grey 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 !
 
 34 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO li- 
 
 No, never ! Blasted be yon pine, 
 
 My father's ancient crest, and mine. 
 
 If from its shade in danger part 
 
 The lineage of the Bleeding Heart ! 
 
 Hear my blunt speech : grant me this maid 
 
 To wife, thy counsel to mine aid j 
 
 To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu, 
 
 Will friends and allies flock enow ; 
 
 Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief. 
 
 Will bind to us each Western Chief. 
 
 When the loud pipes my bridal tell, 
 
 The Links of Forth shall hear the knell. 
 
 The guards shall start in Stirling's porch j 
 
 And when I light the nuptial torch, 
 
 A thousand villages in flames, 
 
 Shall scare the slumbers of King James ! 
 
 — Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away. 
 
 And, mother, cease these signs, I pray ; 
 
 I meant not all my heat might say. — 
 
 Small need of inroad, or of fight. 
 
 When the sage Douglas may unite
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 85 
 
 Each mountain clan in friendly band. 
 To guard the passes of their land, 
 Till the foiled King, from pathless glen, 
 Shall bootless turn him home agen." — 
 
 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, 
 Till 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.
 
 86 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO II. 
 
 Headlong to plange himself below. 
 
 And meet the worst his fears foreshow ? — 
 
 Thus, Ellen, dizzy and astound. 
 
 As sudden ruin yawned around. 
 
 By crossing terrors wildly tossed. 
 
 Still for the Douglas fearing most. 
 
 Could scarce the desperate thought withstand, 
 
 To buy his safety with her hand. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy 
 In Ellen's quivering lip and eye, 
 And eager rose to speak — but ere 
 His tongue could hurry forth his fear. 
 Had Douglas marked the hectic strife, 
 Wliere death seemed combating with hfej 
 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.
 
 CANTO U. THE ISLAND. 8? 
 
 ** 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 be — forgive her, Chief, 
 
 Nor hazard aught for our relief. 
 
 Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'e!^ 
 
 Will level a rebellious spear. 
 
 'Twas I that taught his youthful hand 
 
 To rein a steed and wield a brand j 
 
 I see him yet, the princely boy ! 
 
 Not Ellen more my pride and joy j 
 
 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." ■ 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode j 
 The waving of his tartans broad,
 
 S8 THE LADY OV THE LAKE. CANTO H. 
 
 And darkened brow, where wounded pride 
 With ire and disappointment vied, 
 Seemed, by the torch's gloomy hght. 
 Like the ill Dsemon 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. 
 While eyes, that mocked at tears before, 
 With bitter di-ops 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 distmctly through the hall. 
 The son's despair, the mother's look, 
 111 might the gentle Ellen brook j
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. 89 
 
 I 
 She rose, and to her side there came, 
 
 To aid her parting steps, the Graeme. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Then Roderick from the Douglas broke — 
 
 As flashes flame through sable smoke, 
 
 Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, ahd low. 
 
 To one broad blaze of ruddy glow, 
 
 So the deep anguish of despair 
 
 Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air. 
 
 With stalwart grasp his hand he laid 
 
 On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid : 
 
 " Back, beardless boy !" he sternly said, 
 
 " Back, minion ! hold'st thou thus at naught 
 
 The lesson I so lately taught ? 
 
 This roof, the Douglas, and that maid. 
 
 Thank thou for piuiishment delayed.'* — 
 
 Eager as greyhound on his game. 
 
 Fiercely with Roderick grappled Gneme. 
 
 " Perish my name, if aught afford 
 
 Its chieftain safety, save his sword !" — 
 
 6
 
 90 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO II. 
 
 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 f 
 
 I hold the first who strikes, my foe. — 
 
 Madmen, forbear your frantic jar ! 
 
 What ! is the Douglas fallen so far, 
 
 His daughter's hand is deemed the spoil 
 
 Of such dishonourable broil !" — 
 
 Sullen and slowly, they unclasp, 
 
 As struck with shame, their desperate grasp, 
 
 And each upon his rival glared. 
 
 With foot advanced, and blade half bared. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, 
 Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung, 
 And Malcolm heard his Ellen's scream, 
 As faultered through terrific dream.
 
 CANTO IL THE ISLAND. « 
 
 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 mayst thou to James Stuart tell, 
 Roderick will keep the lake and fell, 
 Nor lackey, with his free-born clan, 
 The pageant pomp of earthly man. 
 More would he of Clan- Alpine know, 
 Thou canst our strength and passes show. — 
 Malise, what ho ?" — his hench-man 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 robbers haunt the place. 
 Thy churlish courtesy for those 
 Reserve, who fear to be thy foes. 
 As safe to me the mountain way 
 At midnight, as in blaze of day,
 
 92 THE LAUV OF THE LAKE. CANTO U. 
 
 Thouffh 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 too shall find an hour." — 
 He said, and left the sylvan bower. 
 
 XXXVI. . 
 
 Old Allan followed to the strand, 
 (Such was the Douglas's command,) 
 And anxious told, how, on the morn, 
 The stern Sir Roderick deep had sworn, 
 The Fieiy Cross should circle o'er 
 Dale, glen, and valley, down, and moor. 
 Much were the peril to the Graeme, 
 From those who to the signal came ; 
 Far up the lake 'twere safest land, 
 Himself would row him to the strand.
 
 CANTO II. THE ISLAND. ^r. 
 
 He gave his tounsel to the wind, 
 
 While Malcohn did, unheeding, bind, 
 
 Round dirk and pouch and broad-sword 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 Graeme, 
 Who loves the Chieftain of his name, 
 Not long shall honoured Douglas dwell, 
 Like hunted stag in mountain cell ;
 
 94 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO 11. 
 
 Nor, ere yon pride-swollen robber dare, — 
 I may not give the rest to air ! — 
 Tell Roderick Dhu, I owed him nought, 
 Not 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 ; 
 Then landing in the moonhght dell, 
 Loud shouted of his weal to tell. 
 The Minstrel heard the far halloo, 
 And joyful from the shore withdrew. 
 
 END OF CANTO SECOND.
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 'CSe dDatgecing*
 
 { Ui \
 
 'iUE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 Cgc (Bntijmnq, 
 
 1 IME roils his ceaseless course. Tlie race of yore 
 
 Who danced our infancy upon their knee, 
 And told our marvelling boy-hood legends store, 
 
 Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea, 
 How are they blotted from the things that be ! 
 
 How few, all weak and withered of their force, 
 Wait, on the verge of dark eternity, 
 
 Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse. 
 To sweep them from our sight ! Time rolls his cease- 
 less course. 
 
 G
 
 98 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO Ill- 
 
 Yet live there still who can remember well, 
 
 How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew, 
 Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell. 
 
 And solitary heath, the signal knew j 
 And fast the faithful clan around him drew, 
 
 What time the warning note was keenly wound, 
 What time aloft their kindred banner flew, 
 
 W^hile clamorous war-pipes yelled the gathering 
 sound, 
 And while the Fiery Cross glanced, hke a meteor, 
 round. 
 
 II. 
 
 The summer dawn's reflected hue 
 To purple changed Loch-Katrine blue ; 
 Mildly and soft the western breeze 
 Just kissed the lake, just stirred the trees. 
 And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, 
 Trembled but dimpled not for joy ; 
 The mountain shadows on her breast 
 Were neither broken nor at rest j
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. 99 
 
 In bright uncertainty they lie, 
 
 Like future joys to Fancy's eye. 
 
 The water hly to the light 
 
 Her chalice rear'd of silver bright j 
 
 The doe awoke, and to the lawn. 
 
 Begemmed with dew-drops, led her fawn ; 
 
 The grey mist left the mountain side, 
 
 The torrent shewed its glistening pride j 
 
 Invisible in flecked sky, 
 
 The lark sent down her revelry ; 
 
 The black-bird and the speckled thrush 
 
 Good -morrow gave from brake and bush ; 
 
 In answer cooed the cusliat dove. 
 
 Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. 
 
 III. 
 
 No thought of peace, no thought of rest, 
 Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast. 
 With sheathed broad-sword in his hand, 
 Abrupt he paced the islet strand.
 
 100 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO HI. 
 
 And eyed the rising sun, and laid 
 His band on his impatient blade. 
 Beneath a rock, his vassals* care 
 Was prompt the ritual to prepare, 
 With deep and deathful meaning fraught ; 
 For such Antiquity had taught 
 Was preface meet, ere yet abroad 
 The Cross of Fire should take its road. 
 The shrinking band stood oft aghast 
 At the impatient glance he cast ; — 
 Such glance the mountain eagle threw, 
 As, from the cHffs ot Ben-venue, 
 She spread her dark sails on the wind. 
 And, high in middle heaven reclined, 
 With her broad shadow on the lake, 
 Silenced the warblers of the brake. 
 
 IV. 
 
 A heap of withered boughs was piled, 
 Of jimiper and rowan wild,
 
 CANTO lU. THE GATHERING. 101 
 
 Mingled with shivers from the oak, 
 Rent by the hghtning's recent sti-oke. 
 Brian, the Hermit, by it stood, 
 Bare-footed, in his frock and hood. 
 His irrisled beard and matted hair 
 Obscured a visage of despair j 
 His naked arms and legs, seamed o'er. 
 The scars of frantic penance bore. 
 That Monk, of savage form and face, 
 The impending danger of his race 
 Had drawn from deepest soHtude, 
 Far in Benharrow's bosom rude. 
 Not his the mien of Christian priest. 
 But Druid's, from the grave released, 
 Whose hardened heart and eye might brook- 
 On human sacrifice to look. 
 And much, 'twas said, of heathen lore 
 ISIixed in the charms he muttered o'er ; 
 The hallowed creed gave only worse 
 And deadlier emphasis of curse ;
 
 102 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IH. 
 
 No peasant sought that Hermit's prayer, 
 His cave the pilgrim shunned with care, 
 The eager huntsman knew his bound, 
 And in mid chase called off his hound; 
 Or if, in lonely glen or strath, 
 The desert-dweller met his path, 
 He prayed, and signed the cross between, 
 While terror took devotion's mien. 
 
 V. 
 
 Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. 
 His mother watched a midnight fold, 
 Built deep within a dreary glen. 
 Where 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 ;
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. 103 
 
 Beneath the broad and ample bone, 
 That bucklered heart to fear unknown, 
 A feeble and a timorous guest. 
 The field-fare framed her lowly nest ; 
 There the slow blind-worm left his slime 
 On the fleet limbs that 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.
 
 iU4 uilt. LAJ)V OF TIIL LAKE. CANTO IH. 
 
 But locked her secret in her breast. 
 And died in travail, unconfessed. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Alone, among his young compeers, 
 Was Brian from his infant years ; 
 A moody and heart-broken boy. 
 Estranged from sympathy and joy, 
 Bearinjy each taunt which careless tongue 
 On his mysterious lineage flung. 
 Whole nights he spent by moon-light palcy 
 To wood and stream his hap to wail. 
 Till, frantic, he as truth received 
 What of his birth the crowd believed. 
 And sought, in mist and meteor fire. 
 To meet and know his Phantom sire ! 
 In vain, to sooth his wayward fate. 
 The cloister oped her pitying gate ; 
 In vain, thel earning of the age 
 Unclasped, he sable-lettered page ;
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. 10.=; 
 
 Even in its treasures he could find 
 
 Food for the fever of his mind. 
 
 Eager he read whatever tells 
 
 Of magic, cabala, and spells, 
 
 And every dark pursuit allied 
 
 To curious and presumptuous pride, 
 
 Till, with fired brain and nerves o'erstruno-. 
 
 And heart with mystic horrors wrung. 
 
 Desperate he sought Benharrow's den, 
 
 And hid him from the haunts of men^ 
 
 VII. 
 
 The desert gave him visions wild, 
 Such as might suit the Spectre's child. 
 Where with black cliffs the torrents toil, 
 He watched the wheeling eddies boil, 
 Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes 
 Beheld the river-dtemon rise ; 
 The mountain-mist took form and linih, 
 Of noontide hag, or goblin grim ;
 
 106 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO III, 
 
 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, 
 Shaped forth a disembodied world. 
 One lingering sympathy of mind 
 Still bound him to the mortal kind ; 
 The only parent he could claim 
 Of ancient Alpine's lineage came. 
 Late had he heard, in prophet's dream, 
 The fatal Ben-Shie's boding scream ; 
 Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast, 
 Of charging steeds, careering fast 
 Along Benliarrow's shingly side, 
 Where mortal horseman ne'er might ride j 
 The thunderbolt had spht the pine, — 
 All augur'd ill to Alpine's line. 
 He girt his loins, and came to show 
 The signals of impending woe.
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. 107 
 
 And now stood prompt to bless or ban, 
 As bade the Chieftain of his clan. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 'Twas all prepared ; — and from the rock, 
 A goat, the patriarch of the flock, 
 Before the kindling pile was laid, 
 And pierced by Roderick's ready blade. 
 Patient the sickening victim eyed 
 The life-blood ebb in crimson tide, 
 Down his clogged beard and shaggy limb, 
 Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim. 
 The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, 
 A slender crosslet framed with care, 
 A cubit's length in measure due ; 
 The shaft and limbs were rods of yew. 
 Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach wave 
 Their shadows o'er Clan- Alpine's grave. 
 And, answering Lomond's breezes deep, 
 Sooth many a chieftain's endless sleep.
 
 aOK THE LADY OF T1[K LAKE. CANTO JII. 
 
 The Cross, thus formed, he held on high, 
 With wasted h^nd and haggard eye, 
 And strange and mingled feelings woke, 
 While his anathema he spoke. 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Woe to the clans-man, 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 I 
 Deserter of his Chieftain's trust. 
 He ne'er shall mingle with their dust, 
 But, from his sires and kindred thrust. 
 Each clans-man's execration j ust 
 
 Shall doom him wrath and woe.'* 
 He paused ; — the word the Vassals took, 
 With forward step and fiery lock. 
 On high their naked brands they shook. 
 Their clattering targets wildly strook ; 
 
 And first, in murmur low.
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. 109 
 
 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 !" 
 Ben-an's grey scalp the accents knew. 
 The joyous wolf from covert drew. 
 The exulting eagle screamed afar, — 
 They knew the voice of Alpine's war. 
 
 X. 
 
 The shout was hushed on lake and fell, 
 The Monk resumed his muttered spell. 
 Dismal and low its accents came. 
 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 :—
 
 no THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO III. 
 
 *' Woe to the wretch, who fails to rear 
 At this dread sign the ready spear ! 
 For, as the flames this symbol sear, 
 His home the refuge of his fear, 
 
 A kindred fate shall know j 
 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 want and woe !"
 
 CANTO m. THE GATHERING. Ill 
 
 A sharp and shrieking echo gave, 
 Coir-Uriskin, thy gobHn cave ! 
 And the grey pass where birches wave, 
 On Beala-nam-bo. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Then deeper paused the priest anew, 
 And hard his labouring breath he drew, 
 While, with set teeth and clenched hand. 
 And eyes that glowed like fiery brand. 
 He meditated curse more dread, 
 And deadlier, on the clansman's head. 
 Who, summoned to his Chieftain's aid. 
 The signal saw and disobeyed. 
 The crosslet's points of sparkling wood. 
 He quenched auiong 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,
 
 Hi THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO 111. 
 
 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 heai't their prize ! 
 As sipks that blood-stream in the earth, 
 So may his heart' s-blood drench his hearth ! 
 As dies in hissing gore tlic spark, 
 Quench thou his hght, Destruction dark ! 
 And be the grace to him denied. 
 Bought by this sign to all beside !'* — 
 He ceased : no echo gave agen 
 The murmur of the deep Amen. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then Roderick, with impatient look, 
 
 From Brian's hand the symbol took : 
 
 " Speed, Malise, speed !" he said, and gave 
 
 The crosslet to his hench-man brave. 
 
 *' The muster-place be Lanric mead — 
 
 Instant the time — speed, Malise, speed !" — .
 
 AMTOIir. THE GATHERING. US 
 
 Like heath-bird, when the hawks pur^e, 
 
 A barge across Loch- Katrine flew j 
 
 High stood the hench-man on the prow, 
 
 So rapidly the barge-men row, 
 
 The bubbles, where they launched the boat, 
 
 Were all unbroken and afloat, 
 
 Dancing in foam and ripple still. 
 
 When it had neared the mainland hill ; 
 
 And from the silver beaches side 
 
 Still was the prow three fatliom wide, , 
 
 When lightly bounded to the land. 
 
 The messenger of blood and brand. 
 
 XIIL 
 
 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 j 
 
 H
 
 
 114 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IH- 
 
 With short and springing footstep pass 
 The trembling bog and false morass ; 
 Across the brook like roe-buck bound, 
 And thread the brake like questing hound ; 
 The crag is high, the scaur is deep, 
 Yet shrink not from the desperate leap •, 
 Parched are thy burning lips and brow, 
 Yet by the fountain pause not now j 
 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 pliest thou now thy flying pace 
 With rivals in the mountain race ; 
 But danger, death, and warrior deed. 
 Are in thy course— Speed, Malise, speed ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Fast as the fatal symbol flies. 
 
 In arms the huts and hamlets rise ;
 
 CANTO m. THE GATHERING. 115 
 
 From winding glen, from upland brown, 
 
 They 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 changed cheer, the mower blithe 
 
 Left in the half-cut swathe his 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 j 
 
 Prompt at the signal of alarms. 
 
 Each son of Alpine rushed to arms j > 
 
 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 !
 
 IIG 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. ttANlTO III- 
 
 The rocks, the bosky thickets, sleep 
 So stilly on thy bosom deep, 
 The lark's blithe carol from the cloudy 
 Seems for the scene too gaily loud. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Speed, Malise, speed ! the lake is past, 
 
 Duncraggan's huts appear at last. 
 
 And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen, 
 
 Half hidden in the copse so green ; 
 
 There may'st thou rest, thy labour done. 
 
 Their Lord shall speed the signal on. — 
 
 As stoops the hawk upon his prey^ 
 
 The hench-man shot him down the way. 
 
 — What woeful accents load the gale ? 
 
 The funeral yell^ the female wail ! 
 
 A gallant hunter's sport is o'er, 
 
 A valiant warrior fights no more. 
 
 Who, in the battle or the chase. 
 
 At Roderick's side shall fill his place !^—
 
 GANTOIII. THE GATHERING. 117 
 
 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 j 
 The village maids and matrons round 
 The dismal coronach * resound. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Cotenacgf 
 
 He is gone on the mountain, 
 
 He is lost to the forest. 
 Like a sunmier-dried fountain. 
 
 When our need was the sorest. 
 The font, re-appearing. 
 
 From the rain-di'ops shall borrow, 
 But to us comes no cheering. 
 
 To Duncan no morrow ! 
 
 * Funeral Song. See Note. 
 4
 
 118 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO HI. 
 
 The hand of the reaper 
 
 Takes the ears that are hoary, 
 But the voice of the weeper 
 
 Wails manhood in glory; 
 The autumn winds rushing 
 
 Waft the leaves that are searest, 
 But our flower was in flushing, 
 
 When blighting was nearest. 
 
 Fleet foot on the correi, * 
 
 Sage counsel in cumber, 
 Red hand in the foray. 
 
 How sound is thy slumber ! 
 Like the dew on the mountain. 
 
 Like the foam on the river. 
 Like the bubble on the fountain, 
 
 Thou art gone and for ever ! 
 
 « Or corri. The hollow side of the hill, where game usually 
 lies.
 
 GANTO III. THE GATHERING. 119 
 
 XVIL 
 
 See Stumah, * who, the bier beside, 
 
 His master's corpse with wonder eyed, 
 
 Poor Stumah ! whom his least halloo 
 
 Could send like lightning o'er the dew, 
 
 Bristles his crest, and points his ears. 
 
 As if some stranger step he hears. 
 
 'Tis not a mourner's muffled tread, 
 
 Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead, 
 
 But headlong haste, or deadly fear, 
 
 Urge the precipitate career. 
 
 All stand aghast : — unheeding all, 
 
 The hench-maii bursts into the hall ; 
 
 Before the dead man's bier he stood. 
 
 Held forth the Cross besmeared with blood ; 
 
 " The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; 
 
 Speed forth the signal ! clansmen, speed !" 
 
 * Faithful. The name of a dog.
 
 120 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO III. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Angus, the heir of Duncan's line, 
 
 Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. 
 
 In haste the stripling to his side 
 
 His father's dirk and broad-sword tied ; 
 
 But when he saw his mother's eye 
 
 Watch him in speechless agony, 
 
 Back to her opened arms he flew, 
 
 Pressed on her lips a fond adieu — 
 
 " Alas !" she sobbed,— « and yet be gone. 
 
 And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son !" 
 
 One look he cast upon the bier, 
 Dashed from his eye the gathering tear. 
 Breathed deep, to clear his labouring breast. 
 And toss'd aloft his bonnet crest. 
 Then, like the high-bred colt, when freed. 
 First he essays his fire and speed, 
 He vanished, and o'er moor and moss 
 »Sped forward with the Fiery Cross.
 
 CANTO m. THE GATHERING. 121 
 
 Suspended was the widow's tear. 
 
 While yet his footsteps she could hear ; 
 
 And when she marked the hench-man'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 ! 
 
 Let babes and women wail the dead." — 
 
 Then weapon-clang, and martial call. 
 
 Resounded through the funeral hall, 
 
 While from the walls the attendant band 
 
 Snatched sword and targe, with hurried hand ; 
 
 And short and flitting energy 
 
 Glanced from the mourner's sunken eye,
 
 122 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO III. 
 
 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 Fire, 
 It glanced like lightning up Strath-Ire. 
 0*er dale and hill the summons flew, 
 Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew ; 
 The tear, that gathered in his eye. 
 He left the mountain breeze to dry ; 
 Until, where Teith's young waters roll. 
 Betwixt him and a wooded knoll. 
 That graced the sable strath with green. 
 The chapel of Saint Bride was seen. 
 Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge. 
 But Angus paused not on the edge ; 
 Though the dark waves danced dizzily, 
 Though reeled his sympathetic eye.
 
 CANTO in. THE GATHERING. 123 
 
 He dashed amid the torrent's roar ; 
 His right hand high the crosslet bore, 
 His left the pole-axe grasped, to guide 
 And stay his footing in the tide. 
 He stumbled twice — the foam splashed high. 
 With hoarser swell the stream raced by ; 
 And had he fallen, — forever there. 
 Farewell, Duncraggan's orphan heir ! 
 But still, as if in parting life, 
 Firmer he grasped the Cross of strife, 
 Until the opposing bank he gained. 
 And up the chapel path-way strained. 
 
 XX. 
 
 A blithsome 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 Gothic arch. 
 The bridal now resumed their march.
 
 124 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO ill. 
 
 In rude, but glad procession, came 
 Bonnetted sire and coif-clad dame ; 
 And plaided youth, with jest and jeer, 
 Which snooded maiden would not hear ; 
 And children, that, unwitting why, 
 Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry j 
 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 kerchiePs snowy band j 
 The gallant bridegroom, b}' her side, 
 Beheld his prize with victor's pride, 
 And the glad mother in her ear 
 Was closely whispering word of cheer. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Who meets them at the church-yard gate irrrr 
 The messenger of fear and fate I
 
 CANTO HI. THE GATHERING. 125 
 
 Haste in his hurried accent lies, 
 
 And grief is swimming in his eyes. 
 
 All dripping from the recent flood, 
 
 Panting and travel-soiled he stood, 
 
 The fatal sign of fire and sword 
 
 Held forth, and spoke the appointed word ; 
 
 ** The muster-place is Lanrick mead. 
 
 Speed forth the signal ! Norman, speed !" — 
 
 And must he change so soon the hand. 
 
 Just 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, brooks no delaj'^ ; 
 
 Stretch to the race — awav ! away !
 
 126 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO III 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Yet slow he laid his plaid aside, 
 
 And, lingering, eyed his lovely bride, 
 
 Until he saw the starting tear 
 
 Speak woe he might not stop to cheer ; 
 
 Then, trusting not a second look, 
 
 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 hope, from well-ibught field returning.
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. 127 
 
 With war's red honours on his crest, 
 
 To clasp his Mary to his breast. 
 
 Stung by such thoughts, o'er bank and brae, 
 
 Like fire from flint he glanced away, 
 
 While high resolve, and feehng strong. 
 
 Burst into voluntary song. 
 
 XXIIL 
 
 The heath this night must be my bed, 
 The bracken * curtain for my head. 
 My lullaby the warder's tread. 
 
 Far, far, from love and thee, Mary ; 
 To-morrow eve, more stilly laid. 
 My couch may be my bloody plaid. 
 My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid ! 
 
 It will not waken me, Mary ! 
 
 * Bracken. Fern.
 
 128 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CAtfXO IH. 
 
 I may not, dare not, fancy now 
 
 The grief that clouds thy lovely brow, 
 
 I dare not think upon thy vow, 
 
 And all it promised me, Mary. 
 No fond regret must Norman know j 
 When bursts Clan- Alpine on the foe. 
 His heart must be hke bended bow. 
 
 His foot like arrow free, Mary. 
 
 A time will come with feeling fraught ! 
 For, if I fall in battle fought, 
 Thy hapless lover's dying thought 
 
 Shall be a thought on thee, Mary. 
 And if returned from conquered foes, 
 How blithely will the evening dose. 
 How sweet the linnet sing repose. 
 
 To my young bride and me, Mary ! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Not faster o'er thy heathery braes, 
 Balquidder, speeds the midnight blaze,
 
 CANTO m. THE GATHERING, J^'^ 
 
 Rushing, in conflagration strong. 
 Thy deep ravines and dells along, 
 Wrapping thy cliffs in purple glow, 
 And reddening the dark lakes below ; 
 Nor faster speeds it, nor so far, 
 As o'er thy heaths the voice of war- 
 The signal roused to martial coil 
 The sullen margin of Loch-Voil, 
 Waked still Loch-Doine, and to the source 
 Alarmed, Balvaig, thy swampy course ; 
 Thence southward turned its rapid road 
 Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad. 
 Till rose in arms each man might claim 
 A portion in Clan-Alpine*s name ; 
 From the grey sire, whose trembling hand 
 Could hardly buckle on his brand, 
 To the raw boy, whose shaft and bow . 
 Were yet scarce terror to the crow. 
 Each valley, each sequestered glen, 
 Mustered its little horde of men, 
 
 I
 
 130 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO III. 
 
 That met as torrents from the height 
 
 In Highland dale 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 5 
 
 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 fi'ontiers of Menteith. 
 All backward came with news of ti*uce ; 
 Still lay each martial Graeme and Bruce, 
 In Rednock courts no horsemen wait. 
 No banner waved on Cardross gate.
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. ISl 
 
 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 5 
 
 For Douglas, to his promise true, 
 
 That morning from the isle withdrew, 
 
 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 Gobhn-cave. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 It was a wild and strange retreat. 
 As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet.
 
 132 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO HI. 
 
 The dell, upon the mountain's crest, 
 Yawned like a gash on warrior's breast ; 
 Its trench had staid full many a rock, 
 Hurled by primaeval earthquake shock 
 From Benvenue's grey summit wild, 
 And here, in random ruin piled, 
 They frowned incumbent o'er the spot, 
 And formed the rugged sylvan grot. 
 The oak and birch, with mingled shade, 
 At noontide there a twilight made, 
 Unless when short and sudden shone 
 Some straggling beam on cUfF or stone. 
 With such a glimpse as prophet's eye 
 Gains on thy depth. Futurity. 
 No murmur waked the solemn still, 
 Save tinkling of a fountain rill ; 
 But when the wind chafed with the lake, 
 A sullen sound would upward break. 
 With dashing hollow voice, that spoke 
 The incessant war of wave and rock.
 
 GANTOIir. THE GATHERING. 333 
 
 Suspended cliffs, with hideous sway. 
 Seemed nodding o'er the cavern grey. 
 From such a den the wolf had sprung, 
 In such the wild cat leaves her young ; 
 Yet Douglas and his daughter fair 
 
 Sought for a space their safety there. 
 
 Grey Superstition's whisper dread 
 
 Debarred the spot to vulgar tread ; 
 
 For there, she said, did fays resort, 
 
 And satyrs * hold their sylvan court, 
 
 By moon-light tread their mystic maze. 
 
 And blast the rash beholder's gaze. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Now eve, with western shadows long, 
 Floated on Katrine bright and strong, 
 When Roderick, with a chosen few, 
 Repassed the heights of Benvenue. 
 Above the Goblin-cave they go, 
 Through the wild pass of Beal-nam-Bo ; 
 
 * The Urhk, or Highland '^atvr. Set' Note.
 
 1S4 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO III 
 
 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 sun-beam'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
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. 1S5 
 
 A wild and warlike group they stand, 
 That well became such mountain strand. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Their Chief, with step reluctant, stiU. 
 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 — 
 By firm resolve to conquer love ! 
 Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost. 
 Still hovering near his treasure lost j 
 For though his haughty heart deny 
 A parting meeting to his eye,
 
 lie THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO m 
 
 Still fondly strains his anxious ear, v 
 
 The accents of her voice to hear, 
 
 And inly did he curse the breeze 
 
 That waked to sound the rustling trees. 
 
 But, hark ! what mingles in the strain ? — 
 
 It is the hai-p of Allan-bane, 
 
 That wakes its measures slow and high, 
 
 Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. 
 
 What melting voice attends the strings ? 
 
 'Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 I^jjinti to tge cairgwu 
 
 Ave Maria I maiden mild ! 
 
 Listen to a maiden's prayer ; 
 Thou canst hear though from the wild, 
 
 Thou canst save amid despair. 
 Safe may we sleep beneath thy care. 
 
 Though banished, outcast, and reviled— 
 
 Maiden ! hear a maiden's grayer ; 
 
 Mother, hear a suppliant child ! 
 
 J ve Maria
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. 137 
 
 Ave Maria / undefiled ! 
 
 The flinty couch we now must share, 
 Shall seem with down of eider piled, 
 
 If thy protection hover there. 
 The murky cavern's heavy air 
 
 Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled ; i 
 Then, Maiden ! hear a maiden's prayer, 
 
 Mother, list a suppliant child ! 
 
 Ave Maria i 
 
 Ave Maria ! Stainless styled i 
 
 Foul daemons of the earth and air, 
 From this their wonted haunt exiled, 
 
 Shall flee before thy presence fair. 
 We bow us to our lot of care. 
 
 Beneath thy guidance reconciled ; 
 Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer, 
 
 And for a father hear a child ! 
 
 Ave Maria!
 
 1S8 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO III. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Died on the harp the closing hymn- 
 Unmoved in attitude and limb, 
 As listening still, Clan- Alpine's lord 
 Stood leaning on his heavy sword. 
 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 way. 
 Till, with the latest beams of light, 
 The band arrived on Lanrick height,
 
 CANTO III. THE GATHERING. 159 
 
 Where mustered in the vale below. 
 Clan- Alpine's men in martial show. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 A various scene the clansmen made, 
 Some sate, some stood, some slowly strayed i 
 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 lie. 
 So well was matched the tartan screen 
 With heath-bell dark and brackens green ; 
 Unless where, here and there, a blade. 
 Or lance's point, a glimmer made, 
 Like glow-worm twinkling through the shade. 
 But, when, advancing through the gloom, 
 They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume. 
 Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide, 
 Shook the steep mountain's steady side. 
 
 s
 
 140 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO 111. 
 
 Thrice it arose, and lake and fell 
 Three times returned the martial yell. 
 It died upon Bochastle's plain. 
 And Silence claimed her evening reign. 
 
 END OF CANTO THIRD.
 
 TSCE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 '^ge pto{)Berp*
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 I. 
 
 1 HE rose is fairest when 'tis budding new, 
 
 And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears ; 
 The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew. 
 
 And love is loveHest when embalmed in tears. 
 O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears, 
 
 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.
 
 144 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO IV, 
 
 IL 
 
 Such fond conceit, half said, half sung, 
 
 Love prompted to the bridegi'oom'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 ! — on the rock a footstep rung, 
 
 And instant to his arms he sprung. 
 
 *< Stand, or thou diest ! — What, Mahse ? — soon 
 
 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. 
 
 On distant scout had Malise gone.) 
 
 " Where sleeps the Chief?" the hench-man said. 
 
 " Apart, in yonder misty glade ; 
 
 To his lone couch I'll be your guide." — 
 
 Then called a slumberer by his side, 
 
 6
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 145 
 
 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."— - 
 
 III. 
 
 Together up the pass they sped : 
 
 ** What of the foeman ?" Norman said.— 
 
 *' Varying reports from near and far ; 
 
 This certain, — that a band of war 
 
 Has for two days been ready boune, 
 
 At prompt command, to march from Doune ; 
 
 King James, the while, with princely powers. 
 
 Holds revelry in Stirhng 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 ?" —
 
 146 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 " What ! know ye not that Roderick's care 
 
 To the lone isle hath caused repair 
 
 Each maid and matron of the clan, 
 
 And every child and aged man 
 
 Unfit for arms ? and given his charge, 
 
 Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge, 
 
 Upon these lakes shall float at large. 
 
 But all beside the islet moor. 
 
 That such dear pledge may rest secure ?'*— 
 
 IV. 
 
 " 'Tis well advised — the Chieftain's plan 
 
 Bespeaks the father of his clan. 
 
 But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu 
 
 Apart from all his followers true ?" — 
 
 *' It is, because last evening- tide 
 
 Brian an augury hath tried. 
 
 Of that dread kind which must not be 
 
 Unless in dread extremity, 
 
 The Taghairm called ; by which, afar, 
 
 Our sires foresaw the events of war.
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 147 
 
 Duncraggan's milk-white bull they slew." — 
 
 MALISE. 
 
 *< Ah ! well the gallant brute I knew, 
 
 The choicest of the prey we had, 
 
 When swept our niorry-men Gallangad. 
 
 His hide was snow, his horns were dark, 
 
 His red eye glowed like fiery spark ; 
 
 So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, 
 
 Sore did he cumber our retreat, 
 
 And kept our stoutest kernes in awe. 
 
 Even at the pass of Beal 'maha. 
 
 But steep and flinty was the road. 
 
 And shaip 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,
 
 148 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 Whoso waters their wild tumult toss 
 Adown the black and craggy boss 
 Of that huge cliff", whose ample verge 
 Tradition calls the Hero's Targe. 
 Couched on a shelve beneath its brink, 
 Close where the thundering torrents sink, 
 Rocking beneath their headlong sway. 
 And drizzled by the ceaseless spray, 
 Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream, 
 The wizard waits prophetic dream. 
 Nor distant rests the Chief; — but hush ! 
 See gliding slow through mist and bush, 
 The Hermit gains yon rock, and stands 
 To gaze upon our slumbering bands. 
 Seems he not, Malise, like a ghost. 
 That hovers o'er a slautjhtered host ? 
 Or raven on the blasted oak. 
 That, watching while the deer is broke,* 
 His morsel claims with sullen croak ?" 
 
 . * Quartered. See Note.
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 149 
 
 — *' Peace ! peace ! to other than to me, 
 
 Thy words were evil augury ; 
 
 But still I hold Sir Roderick's blade 
 
 Clan- Alpine's omen and her aid, 
 
 Not aught that, gleaned from heaven or hell, 
 
 Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell. 
 
 The Chieftain joins hira^ see — and now. 
 
 Together they descend the brow." — 
 
 VI. 
 
 And, as they came, with Alpine's Lord 
 The Hermit Monk held solemn word : 
 *' Roderick ! it is a fearful strife, 
 For man endowed with mortal life. 
 Whose shroud of sentient clay can still 
 Feel feverish pang and fainting chill, 
 Whose eye can stare in stony trance. 
 Whose hair can rouse like warrior's lance,— 
 'Tis hard for such to view, unfurl'd, 
 The curtain of the future world.
 
 150 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV- 
 
 Yet, witness every quaking b'mb, 
 
 My sunken pulse, mine eye-balls dim, 
 
 My soul with harrowing anguish torn. 
 
 This for my Chieftain have I borne !— - 
 
 The shapes that sought my fearful couch, 
 
 An human tongue may ne'er avouch ; 
 
 No mortal man, — save he, who, bred 
 
 Between the living and the dead, 
 
 Is gifted beyond nature's law, — 
 
 Had e'er survived to say he saw. 
 
 At length the fateful answer came, 
 
 In characters of living flame ! 
 
 Not spoke in word, nor blazed in scroll. 
 
 But borne and branded on my soul; — 
 
 Which spills the foremost foeman's life, 
 
 That party conquers in the strife." 
 
 VII. 
 
 *' Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care ! 
 Good is thine augury, and fair. 
 
 3
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. ^^^ 
 
 CJ an- Alpine ne'er in battle stood, 
 But first our broad-swords tasted blood. 
 A surer victim still I know, 
 Self-offered to the auspicious blow : 
 A spy has sought my land this morn, — 
 No eve shall witness his return ! 
 My followers guard each pass's mouth, 
 To east, to westward, and to south ; 
 Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide, 
 Has charge to lead his steps aside, 
 Till, in deep path or dingle brown, 
 He hght on those shall bring him down. 
 — But see, who comes his news to show ! 
 Malise ! what tidings of the foe ?" — 
 
 VIII. 
 
 '' At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive. 
 Two Barons proud their banners wave. 
 I saw the Moray's silver star, 
 And marked the sable pale of Mar." —
 
 152 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV 
 
 ** By Alpine's soul, high tidings those ! 
 
 I love to hear of worthy foes^ 
 
 When move they on ?'* — '* To-morrow's noon 
 
 Will see them here for battle boune." 
 
 ** Then shall it see a meeting stern ! — 
 
 But, for the place — say, couldst thou learn 
 
 Nought of the friendly clans of Earn ? 
 
 Strengthened by them we well might bide 
 
 The battle on Benledi's side. 
 
 Thou couldst not ? — well ! Clan-Alpine's men 
 
 Shall man the Trosach's shaggy glen ; 
 
 Within Loch-Katrine*s gorge we'll fight. 
 
 All in our maids' and matrons' sight, 
 
 Each for his hearth and household fire, 
 
 Father for child, and son for sire, — 
 
 Lover for maid beloved ! — but why — 
 
 Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? 
 
 Or dost thou come, ill-omcn'd tear i 
 
 A messenger of doubt or fear ? 
 
 No ! sooner may the Saxon lance 
 
 Unfix Benledi from his stance,
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 153 
 
 Than doubt or terror can pierce through 
 The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu ; 
 'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe. — 
 Each to his post ! — all know their charge." — 
 The pibroch sounds, the bands advance, 
 The broad-swords gleam, the banners dance, 
 Obedient to the Chieftain's glance. 
 — I turn me from the martial roar. 
 And seek Coii*-Uriskin once more. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Where is the Douglas ? — he is gone ; 
 And Ellen sits on the grey stone 
 Fast by the cave, and makes her moan ; 
 While vainly Allan's words of cheer 
 Are poured on her unheeding ear. — 
 ** He will return — Dear lady, trust ! — 
 With joy return j — he will — he must. 
 Well was it time to seek afar, 
 Some refuge from impending war.
 
 154 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 When e'en Clan-Alpine's rugged swarm 
 Are cow'd by the approaching storm' 
 I saw their boats, with many a light, 
 Floating the 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 haAvk upon the glen. 
 Since this rude race dare not abide 
 The peril on the main-land side. 
 Shall not thy noble father's care 
 Some safe retreat for thee prepare ?" — 
 
 X. 
 
 ELLEN. 
 
 *' Ko, Allan, no ! Pretext so kind 
 My wakeful terrors could not blind.
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 155 
 
 When in such tender tone, yet grave, 
 Douglas a parting blessing gave, 
 The tear that glistened in his eye 
 Drowned not his purpose fixed and high. 
 My soul, though feminine and weak. 
 Can image his j e'en as the lake, 
 Itself distm'bed by slightest stroke, 
 Reflects the invulnerable rock. 
 He hears reports of battle rife, 
 He deems himself the cause of strife, 
 I saw him redden, when the theme 
 Turned, Allan, on thine idle dream, 
 Of Malcohn Graeme in fetters bound. 
 Which I, thou said*st, about him wound. 
 Think' st thou he trow'd thine omen aught ? 
 Oh no ! 'twas apprehensive thought 
 For the kind youth, — for Roderick too — 
 (Let me be just) that friend so true ; 
 In danger both, and in our cause ! 
 Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause.
 
 156 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 Why else that solemn warning given, 
 * If not on earth, we meet in heaven ?' 
 Why else, to Cambus-kenneth*s fane, 
 If eve return him not again. 
 Am I to hie and make me known ? 
 Alas ! he goes to Scotland's throne, 
 Buys his friends' safety with his own j — 
 He goes to do — what I had done, 
 Had Douglas' daughter been his son !'* — 
 
 XI. 
 
 ** Nay, lovely Ellen ! — dearest, nay ! 
 If aught should his return delay, 
 He only named yon holy fane 
 As fitting place to meet again. 
 Be sure he's safe ; and for the Graeme, — 
 Heaven's blessing on his gallant name ! — 
 My visioned sight may yet prove true. 
 Nor bode of ill to him or you.
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 157 
 
 When did my gifted dream beguile ? 
 Think of the stranger at the isle, 
 And think upon the harpings slow, 
 That presaged this approaching woe ! 
 Sooth was my prophecy of fear ; 
 Believe it when it augurs cheer. 
 Would we had left this dismal spot ! 
 Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot. 
 Of such a wond'rous 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.
 
 158 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Ballati. 
 
 ALICE BRAND. 
 
 Merry it is in the good green wood, 
 
 When the mavis * and merle f are singing. 
 
 When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry, 
 And the hmiter's horn is ringing. 
 
 *' O Alice Brand, my native land 
 
 Is lost for love of you j 
 And we must hold by wood and wold, 
 
 As outlaws wont to do. 
 
 " O Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so bright, 
 
 And 'twas aU for thine eyes so blue, 
 That on the night of our luckless flight, 
 
 Thy brother bold I slew. 
 
 * Thrush. f Blackbird.
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 159 
 
 " Now must I teach to hew the beech, 
 
 The hand that held the glaive, 
 For leaves to spread our lowly bed. 
 
 And stakes to fence our cave. 
 
 " And for vest of pall, thy fingers small. 
 
 That wont on harp to stray, 
 A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer, 
 
 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. 
 
 *' If pall and vair no more I wear, 
 
 Nor thou the crimson sheen, 
 As warm, we'll say, is the russet gray, 
 
 As gay the forest-green.
 
 160 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 " And, Richard, if our lot be hard. 
 
 And lost thy native land, 
 Still Alice has her own Richard, 
 
 And he his Alice Brand." — 
 
 XIII. 
 
 )15anati cominuct!* 
 
 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good green wood. 
 
 So blithe Lady Alice is singing ; 
 On the beech's pride, and the oak's brown side. 
 
 Lord Richard's axe is ringing. 
 
 Up spoke the moody Elfin king. 
 
 Who won'd within the hill, — 
 Like wind in the poich of a ruined church, 
 
 His voice was ghostly shrill. 
 
 '' Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak. 
 Our moon-light circle's screen ?
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 161 
 
 Or who comes here to chase the deer. 
 
 Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? 
 Or who may dare on wold to wear 
 
 The fairie's fatal green ? 
 
 " Up, Urgan, up ! to yon mortal hie. 
 
 For thou wert christened man ; 
 For cross or sign thou wilt not fly. 
 
 For muttered word or ban. 
 
 " 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. 
 
 *Tis merry, *tis merry, in good green wood. 
 Though the birds have stilled their singing ; 
 
 The evening b.'azc doth Alice raise. 
 And Richard is faggots bringing. 
 
 L
 
 162 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV 
 
 Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf. 
 
 Before Lord Richard stands, 
 And, as he crossed and blessed himself, 
 " I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf, 
 
 " That is made with bloody hands." — 
 
 But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 
 
 That woman void of fear, — 
 *' And if there's blood upon his hand, 
 
 'Tis but the blood of deer."— 
 
 " Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood ! 
 
 It cleaves unto his hand. 
 The stain of thine own kindly blood. 
 
 The blood of Ethert Brand."— 
 
 Then forward stepped she, Alice Brand, 
 
 And made the holy sign, — 
 " And if there's blood on Richard's hand, 
 
 A spotless hand is mine.
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 16S 
 
 ** And I conjure thee, Daemon elf, 
 
 By Him whom Daemons fear. 
 To shew us whence thou art thyself ? 
 
 And what thine errand here ?" — 
 
 XV. 
 
 BallaD cDttttnueti* 
 
 " 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in Fairy land. 
 
 When fairy birds are singing, 
 When the court doth ride by their monarch's side. 
 
 With bit and bridle ringing : 
 
 ** And gaily shines the Fairy land — 
 
 But all is glistening show. 
 Like the idle gleam that December's beam 
 
 Can dart on ice and snow. 
 
 ** And fading, like that varied gleam. 
 
 Is our inconstant shape. 
 Who now like knight and lady seem, 
 
 And now like dwarf and ape.
 
 164 THE LADY OF THE LAKt. CANTO IV. 
 
 "It was between the night and day, 
 
 When the Fairy King has power, 
 That I sunk down in a sinful fray, 
 And, 'twixt life and death, was snatched away? 
 
 To the joyless Elfin bower, 
 
 ** But wist I of a woman bold, 
 
 Who thrice ray brow durst sign, 
 I might regain my mortal mold. 
 
 As fair a form as thine." — 
 
 She crossed him once — she crossed him twice — 
 
 That lady was so brave j 
 The fouler grew his goblin hue, 
 
 The darker grew the cave. 
 
 She crossed him thrice, that lady bold ; 
 
 He rose beneath her hand 
 The fairest knight on Scottish mold. 
 
 Her brother, Ethart Brand !
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. ic,B 
 
 Merry it is in good green wood, 
 
 When the mavis and merle are singing, 
 
 But merrier were they in Dunfermline grey. 
 When all the bells were ringing. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Just as the minstrel sounds were staid, 
 
 A stranger cUmbed the steepy glade : 
 
 His martial step, his stately mien. 
 
 His hunting suit of Lincoln green. 
 
 His eagle glance, remembrance claims — 
 
 'Tis Snowdoun'b Knight, 'tis James Fitz-James. 
 
 Ellen beheld as in a dream. 
 
 Then, starting, scarce suppressed a scream : 
 
 *' O stranger ! in such hour of fear. 
 
 What evil hap has brought thee here ?" — 
 
 " An evil hap how can it be. 
 
 That bids me look again on thee ? 
 
 By promise bound, my former guide 
 
 Met me betimes this morning tide,
 
 166 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 And marshall*d, over bank and bourne, 
 
 The happy path of my return." — 
 
 " The happy path ! — what ! said he nought 
 
 Of war, of battle to be fought, 
 
 Of guarded pass ?"— " No, by my faith ! 
 
 Nor saw I aught could augur scathe." — 
 
 «' Oh haste thee, Allan, to the kern, 
 
 — Yonder his tartans I discern ; 
 
 Learn thou his purpose, and conjure 
 
 That he will guide the stranger sure ! — 
 
 What prompted thee, unhappy man ? 
 
 The meanest serf in Roderick*s clan 
 
 Had not been bribed by love or fear, 
 
 Unknown to him, to guide thee here." — 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " Sweet Ellen, dear my life must be. 
 
 Since it is worthy care from thee ; 
 
 Yet life I hold but idle breath, 
 
 AVhen love or honour's weighed with death. 
 
 G
 
 CANTO IV. Tjjj. PROPHECY. 16? 
 
 Then let me profit by my chance, 
 
 And speak my purpose bold at once. 
 
 I come to bear thee from a wild, 
 
 Where ne'er before such blossom smiled ; 
 
 By this soft hand to lead thee far 
 
 From frantic scenes of feud and war. 
 
 Near Bochastle my horses wait ; 
 
 They bear us soon to Stirling gate. 
 
 I'll place thee in a lovely bower, 
 
 I'll ffuard thee like a tender flower," — 
 
 *« O ! hush, Sir Knight ! 'twere female art. 
 
 To say I do not read thy heart ; 
 
 Too much, before, my selfish ear 
 
 Was idly soothed my praise to hear. 
 
 That fatal bait hath lured thee back. 
 
 In deathful hour, o'er dangerous track ; 
 
 And how, O how, can I atone 
 
 The wreck my vanity brought on ! — 
 
 One way remains — I'll tell him all — 
 
 Yes ! strufl:<jlinff bosom, forth it shall '
 
 463 THE LADY OB' THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 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 ban ; 
 
 The price of blood is on his head, 
 
 With me 'twere infamy to wed. — 
 
 Still would'st thou speak .'' — then hear the truth I 
 
 Fitz- James, there is a noble youth, — 
 
 If yet he is ! — exposed for me 
 
 And mine to dread extremity — 
 
 Thou hast the secret of my heart ; 
 
 Forgive, be generous, and depart." — 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Fitz- James knew every wily train 
 
 A lady's fickle heart to gain. 
 
 But here he knew and felt them vain. • 
 
 There shot no glance from Ellen's eye, 
 
 To give her stedfast speech the ]yc ; 
 
 In maiden confidence she stood. 
 
 Though mantled in her cheek the blood.
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 16'J 
 
 And told her love with such a sigh 
 
 Of deep and hopeless agony, 
 
 As death had sealed her Malcolm's doom, 
 
 And she sat sorrowinjj on his tomb. 
 
 Hope vanished from Fitz-James's eye, 
 
 But not with hope fled sympathy. 
 
 He proffered to attend her side, 
 
 As brother would a sister ouide. — 
 
 *' O ! little know'st thou Roderick's heart ! 
 
 Safer for both we go apart. 
 
 O haste thee, and from Allan learn. 
 
 If thou may'st trust yon wily kern." — 
 
 With hand upon his forehead laid, 
 
 The conflict of his mind to shade, 
 
 A parting step or two he made ; 
 
 Then, as some thought had crossed his brain, 
 
 He paused, and turned, and came again.
 
 no THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Hear, lady, yet, a parting word ! — 
 It chanced in fight that my poor sword 
 Preserved the hfe of Scotland's lord. 
 This ring the grateful Monarch gave. 
 And bade, when I had boon to crave. 
 To bring it back, and boldly claim 
 The recompence that I would name. 
 Ellen, I am no courtly lord. 
 But one who lives by lance and sword. 
 Whose castle is his helm and shield. 
 His lordship, the embattled field- 
 What from a prince can I demand, 
 Who neither reck of state nor land ? 
 Ellen, thy hand — the ring is thine ; 
 Each guard and usher knows the sign. 
 Seek thou the king without delay ; 
 This signet shall secure thy way ;
 
 CANTO IV, THE PROPHECY. in 
 
 And claim thy suit, whatever 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 wending down 
 
 The ridges of the mountain brown. 
 
 Across the stream they took their way, 
 
 That joins Loch-Katrine to Achray. 
 
 XX. 
 
 All in the Trosach's glen was still, 
 Noontide was sleeping on the hill : 
 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 grey !
 
 m THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV, 
 
 For thee — for me perchance — 'twere well 
 We ne'er had seen the Trosach's dell. — 
 Murdoch, move first — but silently •, 
 Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die." — 
 Jealous and sullen on they fared, 
 Each silent, each upon his guard. 
 
 XXL 
 
 Now wound the path its dizzy ledge 
 Around a precipice's edge, 
 When lo ! a wasted Female form. 
 Blighted by wrath of sun and storm, 
 In tattered weeds and wild array, 
 Stood on a chfF beside the way, 
 And glancing round her restless eye. 
 Upon the wood, the rock, the sky. 
 Seemed nought to mark, yet all to spy. 
 Her brow was wreathed with gaudy broom ; 
 With gesture wild she waved a plume
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. ITS 
 
 Of feathers, which the eagles fling- 
 To crag and cliff from dusky wing ; 
 Such spoils her desperate step had sought, 
 Where scarce was footing for the goat. 
 The tartan plaid she first descried. 
 And 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 wrung, 
 And then she wept, and then she sung. — 
 She sung ! — the voice, in better time, 
 Perchance to harp or lute might chime ; 
 And now, though strained and roughened, sliJi 
 Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 *< They bid me sleep, they bid me pray. 
 They say my brain is warped and wrung — 
 
 I cannot sleep on Highland brae, 
 I cannot pray in Highland tongue.
 
 174 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 But were I now where Allan glides, 
 Or heard my native Devan's tides, 
 So sweetly would I rest, and pray 
 That Heaven would close my wintry day ! 
 
 *' *Twas thus my hair they bade me braid. 
 They bade me to the church repair j 
 
 It was my bridal morn they said. 
 
 And my true love would meet me there. 
 
 But woe betide the cruel guile. 
 
 That drowned in blood the morning smile ! 
 
 And woe betide the fairy dream ! 
 
 I only waked to sob and scream.' 
 
 » 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " Who is this maid ? what means her lay ? 
 She hovers o'er the hollow way. 
 And flutters wide her mantle grey. 
 As the lone heron spreads his wing. 
 By twilight, o'er a haunted spring.' 
 
 »
 
 CANXOIV. THE PROPHECY. 175 
 
 " 'Tis Blanch 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 strikest her but one blow, 
 
 I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far 
 
 As ever peasant pitched a bar." — 
 
 *' Thanks, champion, thanks !" the Maniac cried. 
 
 And pressed her to Fitz-James's side. 
 
 *' See the grey pennons I prepare. 
 
 To seek my true-love through the air ! 
 
 I will not lend that savage groom. 
 
 To break his fall, one downy plume ! 
 
 No ! — deep amid disjointed stones. 
 
 The wolves shall batten on his bones,
 
 176 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 And then shall his detested plaid. 
 By bush and briar in mid air staid, 
 Wave forth a banner fair and free, 
 Meet signal for their reveh'y."— - 
 
 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 tnic. 
 He stole poor Blanche's heart away ! 
 
 His coat it was all of the greenwood hue, 
 And so blithely he trilled the lowland lay !*' 
 
 It was not that I meant to tell . . . 
 
 But thou art wise, and guessest well."—
 
 GANTOIV. THE PROPHECY. 177 
 
 Then, in a low and broken tone, 
 And hurried note, the song went on. 
 Still on the Clans-man, fearfully, 
 She fixed her apprehensive eye ; 
 Then turned it on the Knight, and then 
 Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set, 
 
 Ever sing merrily, merrily ; 
 The bows they bend, and the knives they whet, 
 
 Hunters live so cheerily. 
 
 " It was a stag, a stag often,* 
 
 Bearing his branches sturdily ; 
 He came stately down the glen, 
 
 Ever sing hardily, hardily. 
 
 * Having ten branches on Iiis antlers. 
 M
 
 178 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV- 
 
 " It was there he met with a wounded doe, 
 
 She was bleeding deathfuUy ; 
 She warned him of the toils below, 
 
 O so faithfully, faithfully ! 
 
 *' He had an eye, and he could heed, 
 
 Ever sing warily, warily ; 
 He had a foot, and he could speed — 
 
 Hunters watch so narrowly." — 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Fitz- James's mind was passion-toss*d. 
 When Ellen's hints and fears were lost j 
 But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought, 
 And Blanche's song conviction brought. — 
 Not like a stag that spies the snare, 
 But lion of the hunt aware, 
 He waved at once his blade on high, 
 ** Disclose thy treachery, or die !" —
 
 CANXOIV. THE PltOPHECr. 179 
 
 Forth at full speed the Clans-man flew, 
 
 But in his race his bow he drew. 
 
 The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest. 
 
 And thrilled in Blanche's faded breast. — 
 
 Murdoch of Alpine ! prove thy speed, 
 
 For ne*er had Alpine's son such need ! 
 
 With heart of fire, and foot of wind. 
 
 The fierce avenger is behind ! 
 
 Fate judges of the rapid strife — 
 
 The forfeit death — the prize is life ! 
 
 Thy kindred ambush lies before, 
 
 Close couched upon the heathery moor ; 
 
 Them couldst thou reach ! — it may not be — 
 
 Thine ambushed kin thou ne'er shalt see. 
 
 The fiery Saxon gains on thee ! 
 
 — Resistless speeds the deadly thrust. 
 
 As hghtning strikes the pine to dust j 
 
 With foot and hand Fitz- James must strain, 
 
 Ere he can win his blade again.
 
 180 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV- 
 
 Bent o'er the fall'n, with falcon eye, 
 He grimly smiled to see him die j 
 Then slower wended back his way, 
 Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 She sate beneath the birchen tree, 
 
 Her elbow resting on her knee ; 
 
 She had withdrawn the fatal shaft, 
 
 And gazed on it, and feebly laughed j 
 
 Her wreath of broom and feathers grey, 
 
 Daggled with blood, beside her lay. 
 
 The Knight to staunch the life-stream tried, — 
 
 ** Stranger, it is in vain !" she cried, 
 
 <* This hour of death has given me more 
 
 Of reason's power than years before ; 
 
 For, as these ebbing veins decay, ' ' 
 
 My frenzied visions fade away. 
 
 A helpless injured wretch I die. 
 
 And something tells me in thine eye,
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 181 
 
 That thou wert mine avenger born. — 
 Seest thou this tress ? — O ! still I*ve worn 
 This httle tress of yellow hair, 
 TTirough danger, frenzy, and despair ! 
 It once was bright and clear as thine. 
 But blood and tears have dimmed its shine. 
 I will not tell thee when 'twas shred. 
 Nor from what guiltless victim's head — 
 My brain would turn ! — but it shall wave 
 Like plumage on thy helmet brave, 
 Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain. 
 And thou wilt bring it me again. — 
 I waver still ! — O God ! more bright 
 Let Reason beam her parting light ! — 
 O ! by thy knighthood's honoured sign, 
 And for thy life preserved by mine. 
 When thou shalt see a darksome man, 
 Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's clan, 
 With tartans broad and shadowy plume, 
 And hand of blood, and brow of gloom,
 
 182 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV, 
 
 Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong, 
 And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's wrong ! — 
 They watch for thee by pass and fell . . . 
 Avoid the path . . . O God ! . . . farewell." — 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James ; 
 
 Fast poured his eye at pity's claims, 
 
 And now, with mingled grief and ire, 
 
 He saw the murdered maid expire. 
 
 " God, in my need, be my relief, 
 
 As I wreak this on yonder Chief!" — 
 
 A lock from Blanche's tresses fair 
 
 He blended with her bridegroom's hair ; 
 
 The mingled braid in blood he dyed, 
 
 And placed it on his bonnet side : 
 
 "By Him whose word is truth ! I swear, 
 
 No other favour will I wear, 
 
 Till this sad token I embrue 
 
 In the best blood of Roderick Dhu ! 
 
 — But hark ! what means yon faint halloo ?
 
 CANTO IV THE PROPHECY. 183 
 
 The chase is up, — but they shall know, 
 
 The stag at bay's a dangerous foe."— 
 
 Barred from the known but guarded way, 
 
 Through copse and cliffs Fitz-James must stray, 
 
 And oft must change his desperate track, 
 
 By stream and precipice turned back. 
 
 Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length, 
 
 From lack of food and loss of strength. 
 
 He couched him in a thicket hoar. 
 
 And thought his toils and perils o*er : — 
 
 *' Of all my rash adventures past, 
 
 This frantic feat must prove the last ! 
 
 Who e'er so mad but might have guess'd. 
 
 That all this highland hornet's nest 
 
 Would muster up in swarms so soon 
 
 As e'er they heard of bands at Doune ? — 
 
 Like blood-hounds now they search me out,— 
 
 Hark, to the whistle and the shout ! — 
 
 If farther through the wilds 1 go, 
 
 I only fall upon the foe ;
 
 184 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 I'll couch me here till evening grey, 
 Then darkling try my dangerous way."— 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The shades of eve come slowly down. 
 
 The woods are wrapped in deeper brown, 
 
 The owl awakens from her dell. 
 
 The fox is heard upon the fell ; 
 
 Enough remains of glimmering light 
 
 To guide the wanderer's steps aright, 
 
 Yet not ejiough from far to show 
 
 His figure to the watchful foe. 
 
 With cautious step and ear awake. 
 
 He climbs the ciag and threads the brake ; 
 
 And not the summer solstice, there, 
 
 Temper'd 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 j
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 185 
 
 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 !" — 
 A stranger." — '* What dost thou require ?'*- 
 Rest and a guide, and food and fire. 
 My life's beset, my path is lost. 
 The gale has chilled my limbs with frost." — 
 " Art thou a friend to Roderick ?"_" No."— 
 " Thou darest not call thyself a fo.e ?" — 
 ** I dare ! to him and all the band 
 He brings to aid his murderous hand." — 
 " Bold words ! — but, though the beast of game 
 The privilege of chace may claim. 
 Though space and law the stag we lend, 
 Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend. 
 
 ({ 
 
 ((
 
 186 THE LADY OV THE LAKE. CANTO 1V« 
 
 Who ever reck'd, where, how, or when. 
 
 The prowling fox was trapped or slain ? 
 
 Thus treacherous scouts, — yet sure they he, 
 
 Who say thou earnest a secret spy !" — 
 
 " They do, by heaven ! — Come Roderick Dhu, 
 
 And of his clan the boldest two, 
 
 And let me but till morning rest, 
 
 I write the falsehood on their crest." — 
 
 " If by the blaze I mark aright. 
 
 Thou bear*st the belt and spur of Knight." — 
 
 ** Then by these tokens may'st thou know, 
 
 Each proud oppressor's mortal foe.*' — 
 
 " Enough, enough ; sit down and share 
 
 A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare." — 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 He gave him of his Highland cheer, 
 The hardened flesh of mountain deer ; 
 Dry fuel on the fire he laid, • 
 
 And bade the Saxon share his plaid
 
 CANTO IV. THE PROPHECY. 187 
 
 He tended him like welcome guest, 
 Then thus his further speech addressed. 
 " Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu 
 A clans-man born, a kinsman true ; 
 Each word against his honour spoke, 
 Demands of me avenging stroke ; 
 Yet more, — upon thy fate, 'tis said, 
 A mighty auguiy is laid. 
 It rests with me to wind my horn,— 
 Thou art with numbers overborne ; 
 It rests with me, here, brand to brand, 
 Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand : 
 But, not for clan, nor kindred's cause. 
 Will I depart from honour's laws ; 
 To assail a wearied man were shame, 
 And stranger is a holy name ; 
 Guidance and rest, and food and fire, 
 In vain he never must require. 
 Then rest thee here till dawn of day ; 
 Myself will guide thee on the way,
 
 188 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO IV. 
 
 0*er stock and stone, through watch and ward, 
 
 Till past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard, 
 
 As far as Coilantogle's ford ; 
 
 From thence thy warrant is thy sword." — 
 
 ** I take thy courtesy, by Heaven, 
 
 As freely as 'tis nobly given !" — 
 
 *< Well, rest thee ; for the bittern's cry 
 
 Sings 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. 
 
 END OF CANTO FOURTH,
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 'Cge Com&atf

 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 ■^^ge Combat* 
 I. 
 
 Jr AIR as the earliest beam of eastern light, 
 
 When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied, 
 It smiles upon the dreary brow of night. 
 
 And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming tide, 
 And lights the fearful path on mountain side ; — 
 
 Fair as that beam, although the fairest far, 
 Giving to horror grace, to danger pride. 
 
 Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star, 
 Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow 
 of War.
 
 192 THE LADY OF THE LAK^. CANTO IV. 
 
 II. 
 
 That early beam, so fair and sheen, 
 Was twinkling through the hazel screen. 
 When, rousing at its glimmer red, 
 The warriors left their lowly bed, 
 Looked out upon the dappled sky. 
 Muttered their soldier matins by. 
 And then awaked their fire, to steal. 
 As short and rude, their soldier meal. 
 That o*er, the Gael * around him threw 
 His graceful plaid of varied hue, 
 And, true to promise, led the way. 
 By thicket green and mountain grey. 
 A wildering path ! — they winded now 
 Along the precipice's brow. 
 Commanding the rich scenes beneath. 
 The windings of the Forth and Teith, 
 
 * The Scottish Highlander calls himself Gael, or Gaul, and 
 terms the Lowlanders, Sassenach, or Saxons. 
 
 6
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 193 
 
 And all the vales between that lie, 
 Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky j 
 Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance 
 Gained not the length of horseman's lance. 
 'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 
 Assistance from the hand to gain ; 
 So tangled oft, that, bursting through. 
 Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew, — 
 That diamond dew, so pure and clear. 
 It rivals all but Beauty's tear ! 
 
 III. 
 
 At length they came where, stern and steep, 
 The hill sinks down upon the deep. 
 Here Vennachar in silver flows. 
 There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose ; 
 Ever the hollow path twined on. 
 Beneath steep bank and threatening stone ; 
 An hundred men might hold the post 
 With hardihood asrainst a host.
 
 194 TPIE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 The ruiiged mountain's scanty cloak 
 
 Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak, 
 
 With shingles bare, and cliffs between, 
 
 And patches bright of bracken green. 
 
 And heather black, that waved so high, 
 
 It held the copse in rivalry. 
 
 But where the lake slept deep and still. 
 
 Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill ; 
 
 And oft both path and hill were torn. 
 
 Where wintry torrent down had borne. 
 
 And heaped upon the cumbered land 
 
 Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. 
 
 So toilsome was the road to trace. 
 
 The guide, abating of his pace. 
 
 Led slowly through the pass's jaws. 
 
 And asked Fitz-James, by what strange cause 
 
 He sought these wilds ? traversed by few. 
 
 Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. 
 
 IV. 
 
 '< Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried, 
 Hangs in my belt, and by my side ;
 
 I 
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT, 195 
 
 Yet, sooth to tell,'* the Saxon said, 
 
 *' I dreamed not now to claim its aid. 
 
 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 warior 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 
 
 The lazy hours of peaceful day ; 
 
 Slight cause will then suffice to guide 
 
 A Knight's free footsteps far and wide, — 
 
 A falcon flown, a greyhound strayed, 
 
 The merry glance of mountain maid ;
 
 196 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 Or, if a path be dangerous known, 
 The danger's self is lure alone." — 
 
 V. 
 
 " Thy secret keep, I urge thee not -, — 
 
 Yet, ere again ye sought this spot, 
 
 Say, heard ye nought of lowland war, 
 
 Against Clan- Alpine raised by Mar ?'*— 
 
 a No, by my word ; — of bands prepared 
 
 To guard King James's sports I heard -, 
 
 Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear 
 
 This muster of the mountaineer. 
 
 Their pennons will abroad be flung. 
 
 Which else in Doune had peaceful hung." — 
 
 " Free be they flung ! for we were loth 
 
 Their silken folds should feast the moth. 
 
 Free be they flung ! — as free shall wave 
 
 Clan- Alpine's pine in banner brave. 
 
 But, Stranger, peaceful since you came, 
 
 Bewildered in the mountain game, 
 
 3
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 197 
 
 Whence the bold boast by which you show 
 Vich-AJpine's vowed and mortal foe ?" — 
 " Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew 
 Nought of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dim, 
 Save as an outlaw'd desperate man, 
 The chief of a rebellious clan. 
 Who, in the Regent's court and sight, 
 With ruffian dagger stabbed a knight ; 
 Yet this alone might from his part 
 Sever each true and loyal heart." — 
 
 VI. 
 
 Wrothful at such arraignment foul. 
 Dark lowered the clans-man's sable scowl. 
 A space he paused, then sternly said, — 
 " And heard'st thou why he drew his blade ? 
 Heard' st thou that shameful word and blow 
 Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe ? 
 What reck'd the Chieftain if he stood 
 On Highland heath, or Holy-Rood ?
 
 198 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 He rights such wrong where it is given, 
 If it were in the court of heaven." — 
 ** Still was it outrage ; — yet, 'tis true, 
 Not then claimed sovereignty his due ; 
 While Albany, with feeble hand, 
 Held borrowed truncheon of command, 
 The young King, niew'd in Stirling tower. 
 Was stranger to respect and power. 
 But then, thy Chieftain's robber life ! — 
 Winning mean prey by causeless strife, 
 Wrenching from ruined lowland swain 
 His herds and harvest reared in vain, — 
 Methinks a soul, like thine, should scorn 
 The spoils from such foul foray borne." — 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Gael beheld him grim the while. 
 And answered with disdainful smile, — 
 " Saxon, from yonder mountain high, 
 I marked thee send delighted eye,
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. Isi^ 
 
 Far to the south and east, where lay, 
 Extended in succession gay, 
 Deep waving fields and pastures green, 
 With gentle slopes and groves between : — • 
 These fertile plains, that softened vale. 
 Were once the birth-right of the Gael ; 
 The stranger came with iron hand, 
 And from our fathers reft the land. 
 Where dwell we now ! See, rudely swell 
 Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. 
 
 I 
 
 Ask we this savage hill we tread, 
 
 For fattened steer or household bread ; 
 
 Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, 
 
 And well the mountain might reply, — 
 
 * To you, as to your sires of yore. 
 
 Belong the target and claymore ! 
 
 I give you shelter in my breast. 
 
 Your own good blades must win the rest.' — 
 
 Pent in this fortress of the North, 
 
 Think'st thou we will not sally forth,
 
 200 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CAKTO v. 
 
 To spoil the spoiler as we may, 
 And from the robber rend the prey ? 
 Aye, by my soul ! — While on yon plain 
 The Saxon rears one shock of grain ; 
 While, of ten thousand herds, there strays 
 But one along yon river's maze, — 
 The Gael, of plain and river heir, 
 Shall, with strong hand, redeem his shar6. 
 Where live the mountain Chiefs who hold, 
 Tliat plundering Lowland field and fold 
 Is aught but retribution true ? 
 Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu." — 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Answered Fitz-James, — " And, if I sought, 
 
 Think'st thou no other could be brought ? 
 
 What deem ye of my path way-laid. 
 
 My life given o'er to ambuscade ?" — 
 
 " As of a meed to rashness due : 
 
 Hadst thou sent warning fair and true, —
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. SOI 
 
 I seek my hound, or falcon strayed, 
 
 I seek, good faith, a Highland maid, — 
 
 Free hadst thou been to come and go ; 
 
 But secret path inarks 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 now 
 
 Fresh cause of enmity avow, 
 
 To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow. 
 
 Enough, 1 am by promise tied 
 
 To match me with this man of pride : 
 
 Twice have I sought Clan- Alpine's glen 
 
 In peace j but when I come agen, 
 
 I come with baimer, 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." —
 
 I 
 
 202 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V- 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Have, then, thy wish !" — he whistled shrill. 
 
 And he was answered fi'om the hill j 
 
 Wild as the scream of the curlieu. 
 
 From crag to crag the signal flew. 
 
 Instant, through copse and heath, arose 
 
 Bonnets and spears and bended bows ^ 
 
 On right, on left, above, below, 
 
 Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; 
 
 From shingles grey their lances start. 
 
 The bracken bush sends forth the dart. 
 
 The rushes and the willow-wand 
 
 Are bristling into axe and brand. 
 
 And every tuft of broom gives life 
 
 To plaided warrior armed for strife. 
 
 That whistle garrison'd the glen 
 
 At once with full five hundred men. 
 
 As if the yawning hill to heaven 
 
 A subterranean host had given.
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 203 
 
 Watching their leader's beck and will, 
 
 All silent there they stood and still. 
 
 Like the loose crags whose threatening muss 
 
 Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, 
 
 As if an infant's touch could urore 
 
 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, — 1 am Roderick Dhu !" — 
 
 X. 
 
 Fitz-James was brave : — Though to his heart 
 The hfe-blood thrilled with sudden start, 
 He mann'd himself with dauntless air, 
 Returned the Chief his haughty stare,
 
 204 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 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 steel. 
 
 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 osiers pale and copses low ; 
 
 It seemed as if their mother Earth 
 
 Had swallowed up her warhke birth. 
 
 The wind's last breath had tossed in air, 
 
 Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair, — 
 
 The next but swept a lone hill-side. 
 
 Where heath and fern were waving wide ;
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 20S 
 
 The sun's last glance was glinted back, 
 
 From spear and glaive, from targe and jack, — 
 
 The next, all unreflected, shone 
 
 On bracken green, and cold grey stone. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Fitz-James looked round — yet scarce believed 
 
 The witness that his sight received ; 
 
 Such apparition well might seem 
 
 Delusion of a dreadful dream. 
 
 Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed. 
 
 And to his look the Chief replied, 
 
 *' Fear nought — nay, that I need not say — 
 
 But — doubt not aught from mine arra}-. 
 
 Thou art my guest ; — I pledged my word 
 
 As far as Coilantogle ford : 
 
 Nor would I call a clans-man's brand 
 
 For aid against one valiant hand, 
 
 Though on our strife lay every vale 
 
 Rent bv the Saxon from the Gael.
 
 306 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 So move we on ; — I only meant 
 To show the I'eed 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 5 
 Yet dare not sav, that now his blood 
 Kept on its wont and tempered flood, 
 As, following Roderick's stride, he drew 
 That seeming lonesome path-way through. 
 Which yet, by fearful proof, was rife 
 With lances, that to take his life 
 Waited but signal from a guide, 
 So late dishonoured and defied. 
 Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round 
 The vanished guardians of the ground, 
 And still from copse and heather deep. 
 Fancy saw spear and broad-sword peep. 
 And in the plover's shrilly strain^ 
 The signal whistle heard again.
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 207 
 
 Nor breathed he free till far behind 
 The pass was left ; for then they wind 
 Along a wide and level green, 
 Where neither tree nor tuft was seen, 
 Nor rush, nor bush of broom was near, 
 To hide a bonnet or a spear. 
 
 XII. 
 
 The Chief in silence strode before. 
 
 And reached that torrent's sounding shore, 
 
 Which, daughter of three mighty lakes. 
 
 From Vennachar in silver breaks. 
 
 Sweeps thi-ough the plain, and ceaseless mines 
 
 On Bochastle the mouldering lines. 
 
 Where Rome, the Empress of the world, 
 
 Of yore her eagle wings unfurl'd. 
 
 And here his course the Chieftain staid, 
 
 Threw down his target and his plaid. 
 
 And to the Lowland warrior said : — 
 
 *' Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, 
 
 Vich- Alpine has discharged his trust. 
 1
 
 208 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, 
 
 This head of a rebellious clan, 
 
 Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, 
 
 Far past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard. 
 
 Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 
 
 A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. 
 
 Sec, here, all vantageless I stand. 
 
 Armed hke 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 vow'd thy death : 
 
 Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, 
 
 And my deep debt for life preserved, 
 
 A better meed have well deserved : — 
 
 Can nought but blood our feud atone ? 
 
 Are there no means r" — " No, Stranger, none !
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 209 
 
 And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — 
 The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; 
 For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred 
 Between the living and the dead ; 
 *' Who spills the foremost foeman's life, 
 His party conquers in the strife." — 
 ** Then, by my word," the Saxon said, 
 ** The riddle is already read* 
 Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — 
 There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. 
 Thus Fate has solved her prophecy. 
 Then yield to Fate, and not to me. 
 To James, at Stirling, let us go. 
 When, if thou wilt be still his foe, 
 Or if the King shall not agree 
 To grant thee grace and favour free, 
 I plight mine honour, oath, and word, 
 That, to thy native strengths restored. 
 With each advantage shalt thou stand, 
 That aids thee now to guard thy land." — 
 
 o
 
 210 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Dark lightning flashed from Roderick's eye — 
 
 " Soars thy presumption then so high, 
 
 Because a wretched kern ye slew. 
 
 Homage to name to Roderick Dhu ? 
 
 He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! 
 
 Thou add'st but fuel to my hate : — 
 
 My clans-man'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.
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. _, j,^ ?ll 
 
 Now, truce, farewell ! and ruth, begone ! — 
 Yet think not that by thee alone, 
 Proud Chief ! can courtesy be shewn ; 
 Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, 
 Start at my whistle clans-men stern, 
 Of this small horn one feeble blast 
 Would fearfiil odds against thee cast. 
 But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt — 
 We try this quarrel hilt to hilt." — 
 Then each at once his foulchion drew. 
 Each on the ground his scabbard threw. 
 Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain. 
 As what they ne*er might see again ; 
 Then, foot, and point, and eye opposed. 
 In dubious strife they darkly closed. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu, 
 That on the field his targe he threw,
 
 212 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 Whose brazen studs and tough bull-hide 
 Had death so often dashed aside •, 
 For, trained abroad his arms to wield, 
 Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. 
 He practised every pass and ward. 
 To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard ; 
 Wliile less expert, though stronger far, 
 The Gael maintained unequal war. 
 Three times in closing strife they stood. 
 And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood ; 
 No stinted draught, no scanty tide, 
 The gushing floods the tartans dyed. 
 Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain. 
 And showered his blows like wintry rain ; 
 And, as firm rock, or castle-roof. 
 Against the winter shower is proof. 
 The foe invubierable still 
 Foiled his wild rage by steady skill j 
 Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand 
 Forced Roderick*s weapon from his hand.
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 21S 
 
 And, backwards borne upon the lea, 
 Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " Now, yield thee, or, by Him who made 
 The world, thy heart*s blood dyes my blade !" — 
 ** Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy ! 
 Let recreant yield, who fears to die." — 
 Like adder darting from his coil, 
 Like wolf that dashes through the toil. 
 Like mountain-cat who guards her young, 
 Full at Fitz-James*s throat he sprung. 
 Received, but reck'd not of a wound. 
 And locked his arms his foeman round. — 
 Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own ! 
 No maiden's hand is round thee thrown ! 
 That desperate grasp thy frame might feel. 
 Through bars of brass and triple steel ! — 
 They tug, they strain ! — down, down, they go, 
 The Gael above, Fitz-James below.
 
 2U THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V, 
 
 The Chieftain's gripe his throat compress*d, 
 His knee was p anted in his breast j 
 His clotted locks he backward threw, 
 Across his brow his hand he drew, 
 From blood and mist to clear his sight. 
 Then gleam'd aloft his dagger bright ! — 
 — But hate and fury ill supplied 
 The stream of life's exhausted tide. 
 And all too late the advantage came, 
 To turn the odds of deadly game ; 
 For, while the dagger gleam'd on high, 
 Keeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye. 
 Down came the blow ! but in the heath 
 The erring blade found bloodless sheath. 
 The struggling foe may now unclasp 
 The fainting Chiefs relaxing grasp ; 
 Unwounded from the dreadful close, 
 But breathless all, Fitz-James arose.
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 2^^ 
 
 XVII. 
 
 He faultered thanks to Heaven for life, 
 
 Redeemed, unhoped, from desperate strife ; 
 
 Next on his foe his look he cast, 
 
 Whose every gasp appeared his last ; 
 
 In Roderick's gore he dipp'd the braid, — 
 
 " Poor Blanche ! thy wrongs are dearly paid : 
 
 Yet with thy foe must die, or live, 
 
 The praise that Faith and Valour give."— 
 
 With that he blew a bugle-note, 
 
 Undid the collar fi'om his throat, 
 
 Unbonnetted, and by the wave 
 
 Sate down his brow and hands to lave. 
 
 Then faint afar are heard the feet 
 
 Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet ; 
 
 The sounds increase, and now are seen 
 
 Four mounted squires in Lincoln green ; 
 
 Two who bear lance, and two who lead, 
 
 By loosened rein, a saddled steed ;
 
 216 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V 
 
 Each onward held his headlong course, 
 And by Fitz-James rein'd up his horse, — 
 With wonder view'd the bloody spot — 
 — " Exclaim not, gallants ! question not. — 
 You, Herbert and Luffhess, alight, 
 And bind the wounds of yonder knight ; 
 Let the grey palfrey bear his weight, 
 We destined for a fairer freight, 
 And bring him on to Stirling straight ; 
 I will before at better speed, 
 To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. 
 The sun rides high ; — I must be 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.
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 217 
 
 No foot Fitz-James in stirrup staid, 
 
 No grasp upon the saddle laid. 
 
 But wreathed his left hand in the manej. 
 
 And hghtly 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 fair, 
 
 Then, hke a bolt from steel cross-bow 
 
 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 Lend rick now are past. 
 
 And Deanstown lies behind them cast ; 
 
 I 
 They rise, the bannered towers of Doune, 
 
 They suik in distant woodland soon ;
 
 518 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 Blair-Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire, 
 They sweep like breeze through Ochtertyre ; 
 They mark just glance and disappear 
 The lofty brow of ancient Kier ; 
 They bathe their coursers* sweltering sides. 
 Dark Forth ! amid thy sluggish tides. 
 And on the opposing shore take ground. 
 With plash, with scramble, and with bound. 
 Right hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig- Forth ! 
 And soon the bulwark of the North, 
 Grey Stirling, with her towers and town, 
 Upon their fleet career looked down. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 As up the flinty path they strained. 
 
 Sudden his steed the leader reined j 
 
 A. signal to his squire he flung. 
 
 Who instant to his stirrup sprung : — 
 
 ** Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodsman grey. 
 
 Who town-ward holds the rocky way, 
 
 Of stature tall and poor array ?
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 219 
 
 Mark'st thou the firm, yet active stride, 
 
 With which he scales the mountain side ? 
 
 Know' St thou from whence he comes, or whom ?" — 
 
 " No, by my word ; — a burly groom 
 
 He seems, who in the field or chase 
 
 A Baroji's train would nobly grace." — 
 
 *' Out, out, De Vaux ! can fear supply, 
 
 And jealousy, no sharper eye ? 
 
 Afar, ere to the hill he drew. 
 
 That stately form and step I knew ; 
 
 Like form in Scotland is not seen, 
 
 Treads not such step on Scottish green. 
 
 'Tis James of Douglas, by Saint Serle ! 
 
 The uncle of the banished Earl. 
 
 Away, away, to court, to show 
 
 The near approach of dreaded foe : 
 
 The King must stand upon his guard ; 
 
 Douglas and he must meet prepared." — 
 
 Then right hand wheeled their steeds, and strait 
 
 They won the castle's postern gate.
 
 220 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Douglas, who had bent his way 
 
 From Cambus-Kenncth's abbey grey. 
 
 Now, as he climbed the rocky shelf. 
 
 Held sad communion with himself : — 
 
 ** Yes ! all is true my fears could frame : 
 
 A prisoner hes the noble Graeme, 
 
 And fiery Roderick soon will feel 
 
 The vengeance of the royal steel. 
 
 I, only I, can ward their fate, — 
 
 God grant the ransom come not late ! 
 
 The Abbess hath her promise given, 
 
 My child shall be the bride of Heaven ;— 
 
 — Be pardoned one repining tear ! 
 
 For He, who gave her, knows how dear. 
 
 How excellent — but that is by, 
 
 And now my business is to die. 
 
 — Ye towers ! within whose circuit dread 
 
 A Douglas by his sovereign bled,
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 22l 
 
 And thou, O sad and fatal mound !* 
 That oft hast heard the death-axe sound, 
 As on the noblest of the land 
 Fell the stern headsman's bloody hand, — 
 The dungeon, block, and nameless tomb 
 Prepare, — for Douglas seeks his doom ! 
 — But hark ! what blithe and jolly peal 
 Makes the Franciscan steeple reel ? 
 And see ! upon the crowded street, 
 In motley groups what masquers meet ! 
 Banner and pageant, pipe and drum. 
 And merry morrice-danccrs come. 
 I guess, by all this quaint array. 
 The burghers hold their sports to-day. 
 James wiU be there ; — he loves such show, 
 Where the good yeoman bends his bow. 
 And the tough wrestler foils his foe, 
 As well as where, in proud career, 
 The high-born tilter shivers spear. 
 
 * An eminence on tlie nortli-east of the castle, where state 
 criminals were executed. See Note.
 
 222 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 ni follow to the Castle-park, 
 
 And play my prize ; — King James shall mark, 
 
 If age has tamed these sinews stark. 
 
 Whose force so oft, in happier days. 
 
 His boyish wonder loved to praise." — 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The Castle gates were open flung. 
 
 The quivering draw-bridge rocked and rung, 
 
 And echoed loud the flinty street 
 
 Beneath the coursers' clattering feet, 
 
 As slowly down the steep descent 
 
 Fair Scotland's King and nobles went, 
 
 While all along the crowded way 
 
 W^as jubilee and loud huzza. 
 
 And ever James was bending low, 
 
 To his white jennet's saddle bow, 
 
 Doffing his cap to city dame, 
 
 A\'ho smiled and blushed for pride and shume. 
 
 And well the simperer might be vain,— 
 
 He chose the fairest of the train.
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 32S 
 
 Gravely he greets each city sire, 
 
 Commends each pageant's quaint attire, 
 
 Gives to the dancers thanks aloud, 
 
 And smiles and nods upon the crowd, 
 
 Who rend the heavens with their acclaim.s, 
 
 ** Long live the Commons' King, King James 1" 
 
 Behind the King thronged peer and knight, 
 
 And noble dame and damsel bright. 
 
 Whose fiery steeds ill-brooked the stay 
 
 Of the steep street and crowded way. 
 
 — But m 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 grey tower. 
 
 Their waving woods, their feudal power. 
 
 And deemed themselves a shamefid part 
 
 Of pageant which they cursed in heart.
 
 224 THE LADY OF THE LAKE, CANTO V. 
 
 xxir. 
 
 Now, in the Castle-park, drew out 
 Their chequered bands the joyous route. 
 There morricers, with bell at heel. 
 And blade in hand, their mazes wheel ; 
 But chief, beside the butts, there stand 
 Bold Robin Hood and all his band, — 
 Friar Tuck with quarter-staff and cowl, 
 Old Scathelocke with his surly scowl. 
 Maid Marian, fair as ivory bone. 
 Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John ; 
 Their bugles challenge all that will. 
 In archery to prove their skill. 
 The Douglas bent a bow of might, — ■ 
 His first shaft centered in the white. 
 And when in turn he shot again. 
 His second split the first in twain. 
 From the King's hand must Douglas take 
 A silver dart, the archers' stake j
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 225 
 
 Fondly he watched, with watery eye, 
 Some answering glance of sympathy, — 
 No kind emotion made reply ! 
 Indifferent as to archer wight. 
 The Monarch gave the arrow bright. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Now, clear the Ring ! for, hand to hand, 
 The manly wrestlers take their stand. 
 Two o'er the rest superior rose, 
 And proud demanded mightier foes, 
 Nor called in vain : for Douglas came. 
 — For life is Hugh of Larbert lame. 
 Scarce better John of Alloa's fare. 
 Whom senseless home his comrades bear. 
 Prize of the wrestling match, the King 
 To Douglas gave a golden ring, 
 AVhile coldly glanced his eye of blue. 
 As frozen drop of wintry dew.
 
 226 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO-v 
 
 Douglas would speak, but in his breast 
 
 His struggling soul his words suppress*d : 
 
 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, 
 
 And sent the fragment through the sky, 
 
 A rood beyond the farthest mark •, — 
 
 And still in Stirling's royal park, 
 
 The grey-haired sires, who know the past, 
 
 To strangers point the Douglas-cast, 
 
 And moralize on the decay 
 
 Of Scottish strength in modern day. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The vale with loud applauses rang, 
 The Ladies* Roek sent baclc the clang ; 
 
 ,'>TW rJriO'^ijfT
 
 CANTO V. THE COM EAT. 237 
 
 The King, with look unmoved, bestowefl 
 
 A purse well filled with pieces broad. 
 
 Indignant smiled the Douglas proud, > 
 
 And threw the gold among the crowd. 
 
 Who now, with anxious wonder scan. 
 
 And sharper glance, the dark grey man j 
 
 Till whispers rose among the throng, y 
 
 That heart so free, and hand so strong. 
 
 Must to the Douglas blood belong : 
 
 The old men mark'd, and shook the head, 
 
 To see his hair with silver spread, 
 
 And winked aside, and told each son 
 
 Of feats upon the English done. 
 
 Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand 
 
 Was exiled from his native land. 
 
 The women praised his stately form. 
 
 Though wreck'd by many a winter's storm ^ 
 
 The youth with awe and wonder saw 
 
 His strcngtli surpassing Nature's law . 
 
 11
 
 228 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 Thus judged, as is their wont, the crowd, 
 Till murmur 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 kaown ? 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Tlie Monarch saw the gambols flag. 
 
 And bade let loose a gallant stag, 
 
 Whose pride, the hoUday to crown. 
 
 Two favourite grey-hounds should pull down, 
 
 That venison free, and Bourdeaux wine. 
 
 Might serve the archery to dine.
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 22'!' 
 
 But Lufra, — whom fi'om Douglas' side 
 
 Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide, 
 
 The fleetest hound in all the North, — 
 
 Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. 
 
 She left the royal hounds mid-way, 
 
 And, dashing on the antler'd prey, 
 
 Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank, 
 
 And deep the flowing Ufe-blood drank. 
 
 The King's stout huntsman saw the sport 
 
 By strange intruder broken short. 
 
 Came up, and, with his leash unbound, 
 
 In anger struck the noble hound. 
 
 — The Douglas had endured, that morn. 
 
 The King's cold look, the nobles' scorn. 
 
 And last, and worst to spirit proud. 
 
 Had borne the pity of the crowd ; 
 
 But Lufra had been fondly bred. 
 
 To share his board, to watch his bed. 
 
 And oft would Ellen, Lufra' s neck, 
 
 In maiden glee, with garlands deck ; 
 
 6
 
 230 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CAKTO V. 
 
 They wel-e such play-mates, that with name 
 Of Lufra, Ellen's image came. 
 His stifled wrath is brimming high, 
 In darkened brow and flashing eye ; — 
 As waves before the bark divide, 
 The crowd gave way before his stride ; 
 Needs but a buffet and no more. 
 The groom lies senseless in his gore. 
 Such blow no other hand could deal, 
 Though gauntletted in glove of stqel. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Then clamoured loud the royal train, 
 And brandished swords and staves amain. 
 But stern the Baron's warning — *' Back ! 
 Back, on your lives, ye menial pack ! 
 Beware the Douglas. — Yes ! behold. 
 King James, the Douglas, doomed of old. 
 And vainly sought for near and far, 
 A victim to atone the war,
 
 ^ANTO V. THE COMBAT. 281 
 
 A willing victim, now attends, 
 
 Nor craves thy grace Ijut for his friends.*'— 
 
 — " Thus is my clemency repaid ? 
 
 Presumptuous Lord !** the Monarch said j 
 
 " Of thy mis-proud ambitious clan, 
 
 Thou, James of Both well, wert the man. 
 
 The only man, in whom a foe 
 
 My woman-mercy would not know : 
 
 But shall a Monarch's presence brook 
 
 Injurious blow, and haughty look ? — 
 
 What ho ! the Captain of our Guard ! 
 
 Give the oflPender 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." — 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Then uproar wild and misarray 
 Marr*d the fair form of festal day.
 
 232 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 The horsemen pricked among 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 path-way steep j 
 
 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 ; 
 
 For that good deed, permit me then 
 
 A word with these misguided men. —
 
 CANTO V. T H E C O M B A T . H T 233 
 
 XXVIII. 
 " Hear, gentle friends ! ere yet, for hk-, 
 Ye break the bands of fealty. 
 My life, my honour, and my cause, 
 I tender free to Scotland's laws. 
 Are these so weak as must require 
 The aid of your misguided ire ? 
 Or, if I suffer causeless wrong, 
 Is then my selfish rage so strong, 
 My sense of pubUc weal so low, 
 That for mean vengeance on a foe, 
 Those chords of love I should unbind, 
 Which knit my country and my kind ? 
 Oh no ! Believe, in yonder tower 
 It will not sooth my captive hour. 
 To know those spears our foes should dre:i<i. 
 For me in kindred gore are red ; 
 To know, in fruitless brawl begun. 
 For me, that mother Avails her son ;
 
 .a34 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V 
 
 For nie, that widow's mate expires, 
 For me, that orphans weep their sires, 
 That patriots mourn insulted laws. 
 And curse the Douglas for the cause. 
 O let your patience ward such ill, 
 And keep your right to love me still !"-— 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 The crowd's wild fury sunk again 
 In tears, as tempests melt in rain. 
 With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed 
 For blessings on his generous head, 
 Who for his country felt alone. 
 And prized her blood beyond his own. 
 Old men, upon the verge of life. 
 Blessed him who stayed the civil strife ; 
 And mothers held their babes on high, 
 The self-devoted Chief to spy. 
 Triumphant over wrong and ire, 
 To whom the prattlers owed a sire :
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 235 
 
 Even the rough soldier's heart was moved j 
 
 As if behind some bier beloved, 
 
 With trailing arms and drooping head, 
 
 The Douglas up the hill he led. 
 
 And at the Castle's battled verge, 
 
 With sighs, resigned his honoured charge. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The offended Monarch rode apait. 
 With bitter thought and swelling heart, 
 And would not now vouchsafe again 
 Through Stirling streets to lead his train. 
 " O Lennox, who would wish to rule 
 This changeling crowd, this common fool .'' 
 Hear'st thou," he said, " the loud acclaim. 
 With which tliey shout the Douglas name ? 
 With like acclaim, the vulgar throat 
 Strained for King James their morning note ; 
 With like acclaim they hailed the day 
 When first I broke the Douglas sway ;
 
 236 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V- 
 
 And like acclaim would Douirlas ffreet. 
 If he could hurl me from my seat. 
 Who o'er the herd would wish to reiffu. 
 Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain ! 
 Vain as the leaf upon the stream, 
 And fickle as a changeful dream ; 
 Fantastic as a woman's mood. 
 And fierce as Frenzy's fevered blood. 
 Thou many-headed monster- thing, 
 O who would wish to be thy king ! — 
 
 XXXL 
 
 *' But soft ! what messenger of speed 
 
 Spurs hitherward his panting steed .'' 
 
 I guess his cognizance afar — 
 
 What from our cousin, John of Mar .'" 
 
 '* He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound 
 
 Within the safe and guarded ground : 
 
 For some foul purpose yet unknown, — 
 
 Most sure for evil to the throne, — 
 
 )>>
 
 CANTO V. THE COMBAT. 237 
 
 The outlawed Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 
 
 Has summoned his rebellious crew ; 
 
 '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 for such danger he provide, 
 
 With scanty train you will not ride." — 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " Thou warn'st me I have done amiss, — 
 I should have earlier looked to this : 
 I lost it in this bustling day. 
 — Retrace with speed thy former way ; 
 Spare not for spoiling of thy steed, 
 The best of mine shall be thy meed. 
 Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, 
 We do forbid the intended war ;
 
 '23b 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO V. 
 
 Roderick, this morn, in single fight, 
 Was made our .prisoner by a knight, 
 And Douglas hath himself and cause 
 Submitted to our kingdom's laws. 
 The tidings of their leaders lost 
 Will soon dissolve the mountain host, 
 ^or would we that the vulgar feel, 
 J'or their ChiePs 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 broad-swords 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. 
 
 .\A
 
 CAKTO V THE COMBAT. SIO 
 
 Nor less upon the saddened town 
 The evening sunk in sorrow down j 
 The burghers spoke of civil jar, 
 Of rumoured feuds and mountain war, 
 Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, 
 All up in arms : — the Douglas too, 
 They mourned him pent within the hold, 
 ** Where stout Earl William was of old,"* — 
 And there his word the speaker staid, 
 And finger on his lip he laid, 
 Or pointed to his dagger blade. 
 But jaded horsemen, from the west. 
 At evening to the Castle pressed ; 
 And busy talkers said they bore 
 Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore ; 
 At noon the deadly fray begun, 
 And lasted till the set of sun. 
 Thus giddy rumour shook the town, 
 Till closed the Night her pennons brown. 
 * Stabbed by James 11. in Stirling Castle. 
 
 END OF CANTO FIFTH.
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 'Cge dDuacti^KoDtttt
 
 I
 
 THE 
 
 LADY OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 Cge dDuacli^Eoom* 
 
 I. 
 
 1 HE sun, awakening, through the smoky air 
 
 Of the dark city casts a sullen glance, 
 Rousing each caitiff to his task of care, 
 
 Of sinful man the sad inheritance ; 
 Summoning revellers from the lagging dance, 
 
 Scaring the prowHng robber to his den ; 
 Gilding on battled tower the warder's lance, 
 
 And warning student jiale to leave his pen. 
 And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men.
 
 244 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 What various scenes, and, O ! what scenes of woe. 
 Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam ! 
 
 The fevered patient, from his pallet low. 
 
 Through crowded hospital beholds it stream ; 
 
 The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam. 
 
 The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail, 
 
 The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream ; 
 The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale. 
 
 Trims her sick infant's couch, and sooths his feeble 
 wail. 
 
 11. 
 At dawn the towers of Stirling rang 
 With soldier-step and weapon-clang. 
 While drums, with rolling note, foretell 
 Relief to weary centinel. 
 Through narrow loop and casement barr'd, 
 The sunbeams sought the Court of Guard, 
 And, struggling with the smoky air, 
 Deadened the torches* yellow glare.
 
 CANTO vr. THE GUARD-'ROOM. 245 
 
 In comfortless alliance shone 
 The lights through arch of blackened stone, 
 And showed wild shapes in garb of war. 
 Faces deformed with beard 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. 
 Showed in what sport the night had flown. 
 Some, weary, snored on floor and bench ; 
 Some laboured still their thirst to quench ; 
 Some, chilled with watching, spread their hands 
 0*er the huge chimney's dying brands, 
 While round them, or beside them flung. 
 At every step their harness rung. 
 
 III. 
 
 These drew not for their fields the sword, 
 Like tenants of a feudal lord,
 
 246 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 Nor owned the patriarchal claim 
 
 Of Chieftain in their leader's name ; 
 
 Adventurers they, from far who roved, 
 
 To live by battle which they loved. 
 
 There the Italian's clouded face, 
 
 The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace ; 
 
 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 j 
 
 And merry England's exiles came, 
 
 To share, with ill-concealed disdain. 
 
 Of Scotland's pay the scanty gain. 
 
 All brave in arms, well trained to wield 
 
 The heavy halbert, brand, and shield j 
 
 In camps Hcentious, wild, and bold ; 
 
 In pillage, fierce and micontrouled ; 
 
 And now, by holytide and feast, 
 
 From rules of discipline released. 
 
 9
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 247 
 
 IV. 
 
 They held debate of bloody fi-ay, 
 
 Fought 'twixt Loch- Katrine and Achray. 
 
 Fierce was their speech, and, mid their words^ 
 
 Their hands oft grappled to their swords ; 
 
 Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear 
 
 Of wounded comrades groaning near, 
 
 Whose mangled limbs, and bodies gored. 
 
 Bore token of the mountain sword. 
 
 Though, neighbouring to the Court of Guard, 
 
 Their prayers and feverish wails were heard ; — 
 
 Sad burden to the ruffian joke. 
 
 And savage oath by fury spoke ! — 
 
 At length up-started John of Brent, 
 
 A yeoman from the banks of Trent ; 
 
 A stranger to respect or fear. 
 
 In peace a chaser of the deer, 
 
 In host a hardy mutineer. 
 
 But still the boldest of the crew, 
 
 When deed of danger was to do.
 
 248 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 He grieved, that day their games cut short. 
 
 And marr*d the dicer's brawling sport, 
 
 And shouted loud, " Renew the bowl ! 
 
 And, while a merry catch I troll. 
 
 Let each the buxom chorus bear, 
 
 Like brethren of the brand and spear."— 
 
 V. I 
 
 Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule 
 Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown bowl. 
 That there's wrath and despair in the jolly black jack, 
 And the seven deadly sins in a flaggon 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 Belzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly. 
 And Apollyon shoots darts from her merry black eye ;. 
 * A Bacchanalian interjection, borrowed from the Dutch.
 
 GANTO vr. THE GUARD-ROOM. 249 
 
 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 I'ight of his office poor laymen to lurch, 
 Wlio infiinge the domains of our good mothef 
 
 Church. 
 Yet whoop, bully-boys ! off with your liquor. 
 Sweet Marjorie's the word, and a fig for the vicar ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 The warder's challenge, heard without, 
 
 Staid in mid-roar the merry shout. 
 
 A soldier to the portal went, — 
 
 " Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent; 
 
 And, beat for jubilee the drum ! 
 
 A maid and minstrel with him come." — 
 
 Bertram, a Fleming, grey and scarr'd, 
 
 Was entering now tlie Court of Guard,
 
 I 
 
 250 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 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." — j^ 
 
 *' But whence thy captives, friend ? such spoil 
 
 As theirs must needs reward thy toil. 
 
 Old dost thou wax, and wars grow sharp \ 
 
 Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp, 
 
 Get thee an ape, and trudge the land. 
 
 The leader of a juggler band." — • 
 
 VII. 
 
 " No, comrade ; — no such fortune mine. 
 After the fight, these sought our line, 
 
 I
 
 CANTO Vr. THE GUARD-ROOM. 251 
 
 That aged harper and the girl, 
 
 And, having audience of the Earl, 
 
 Mar bade I should purvey them steed. 
 
 And bring them hitherward with speed. 
 
 Forbear your mirth and rude alarm, 
 
 For none shall do them shame or harm." — 
 
 ** Hear ye his boast I" cried John of Brent, 
 
 Ever to strife and jangling bent, — 
 
 " Shall he strike doe beside our lodge. 
 
 And yet the jealous niggard grudge 
 
 To pay the forester his fee ! 
 
 I'll have my share howe'er it be, 
 
 Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee." — 
 
 Bertram his forward step withstood ; 
 
 And, burning in his vengeful mood, 
 
 Old Allan, though unfit for strife. 
 
 Laid hand upon his dagger-knife ; 
 
 But Ellen boldly stcpp'd between, 
 
 And dropp'd at once the tartan screen ; — 
 
 So, from his morning cloud, appears 
 
 The sun of May, through summer tears.
 
 252 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 The savage soldiery, amazed. 
 As on descended angel gazed ^ 
 Even hardy Brent, abashed and tamed, 
 Stood half admiring, half ashamed. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Boldly she spoke, — " Soldiers, attend ! 
 
 My father was the soldier's friend j 
 
 Cheered him in camps, in marches led, 
 
 And with him in the battle bled. 1 
 
 Not from the vahant, or the strong, 
 
 Should exile's daughter suffer wrong." — 
 
 Answered De Brent, most forward stiU 
 
 In every feat or good or ill, — 
 
 " I shame me of the part I played; 
 
 And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid ! 
 
 An outlaw I by Forest laws, 
 
 And merry Needwood knows the cause. 
 
 Poor Rose,— if Rose be hving now,"— 
 
 He wiped his iron eye and brow, 
 
 " Must bear such age, I think, as thou. — 
 
 I
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 253 
 
 Hear ye, my mates ; — I go to call 
 The Captain of our watch to hall : 
 There lies my halbert on the floor ; 
 And he that steps my halbert o'er, 
 To do the maid injurioijs part, 
 My shaft shall quiver in his heart ! — 
 Beware loose speech, or jesting rough : 
 Ye aP know John de Brent. Enough." — 
 
 IX. 
 
 Their Captain came, a gallant young, — 
 (Of TuUibardine's house he sprung,) 
 Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight ; 
 Gay was his mien, his humour light. 
 And, though by courtesy controuled, 
 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 ;
 
 251 THE LADY OP THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 But Ellen's lovely face and mien, 
 
 Ill-suited to the garb and scene, 
 
 Might lightly bear construction strange, 
 
 And give loose fancy scope to range. 
 
 — " Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid ! 
 
 Come ye to seek a champion's aid, 
 
 On palfrey white, with harper hoar. 
 
 Like arrant damosel of yore ? 
 
 Does thy high qu!est a knight require, 
 
 Or may the venture suit a squire ?" — 
 
 Her dark eye flashed ; — she paused and sighed,- 
 
 " O what have I to do with pride ! — 
 
 — Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife, 
 
 A suppliant for a father's life, 
 
 I crave an audience of the King. 
 
 Behold, to back my suit, a ring, 
 
 The royal pledge of grateful claims, 
 
 Given by the Monarch to Fitz-James." — 
 
 J
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 255 
 
 X. 
 
 The signet ring young Lewis took, 
 With deep respect and altered look ; 
 And said, — " This ring our duties ownj 
 And, pardon, if to worth unknown, 
 In semblance mean obscurely veiled. 
 Lady, in aught my folly failed. 
 Soon as the day flings wide his gates. 
 The King shall know what suitor waits. 
 Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower 
 Repose you till his waking hour ; 
 Female attendance shall obey 
 Your hest, for service or array. 
 Permit I marshal you the way." — 
 But, ere she followed, with the grace 
 And open bounty of her race, 
 She bade her slender purse be shared 
 Among the soldiers of the guard.
 
 256 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 The rest with thanks their guerdon took ; 
 
 But Brent, with shy and awkward look, 
 
 On the reluctant maiden's hold 
 
 Forced bluntly back the proffered gold ; — 
 
 " Forgive a haughty English heart. 
 
 And O forget its ruder part ! 
 
 The vacant purse shall be my share,. tuatj 
 
 Which in my barret-cap I'll bear. 
 
 Perchance, in jeopardy of war. 
 
 Where gayer crests may keep afar.'* — 
 
 With thanks, — 'twas all she could, — the maid 
 
 His rugged courtesy repaid. u , .. ^ ^ . 
 
 XI. 
 
 When EUen forth with Lewis went, 
 
 Allan made suit to John of Brent : — 
 
 " My lady safe, O let your grace '<"'^ ' ^•'^ 
 
 Give me to see my master's face ! 
 
 His minstrel I, — to share his doom 
 
 Bound from the cradle to the tomb.
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 257 
 
 Tenth in descent, since first my sires 
 Waked for his noble house their lyres, 
 Nor one of all the race was known 
 But prized its weal above tlieir own. 
 With the Chief's birth begins our care ; 
 Our harp must sooth the infant heir, 
 Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace 
 His earliest feat of field or chase ; 
 In peace, in war, our rank we keep, 
 We cheer his board, we sooth his sleep, 
 Nor leave him till we pour our verse, 
 A doleful tribute ! o'er his hearse. 
 Then let me share his captive lot ; 
 It is my right — deny it not !" — 
 ** Little we reck," said John of Brent, 
 ** We Southern men, of long descent ; 
 Nor wot we how a name — a word — 
 Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : 
 Yet kind my noble landlord's part, — 
 God bless the liouse of Beaudesert !
 
 «58 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VL 
 
 And, but I loved to drive the deer, , .^^ ,7,,, / 
 More than to guide the labouring steer, ■/• 
 I had not dwelt an outcast here. .'A 
 
 Come, good old Minstrel, follow me ; 
 Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see."— 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then, from a rusted iron hook, 
 A bunch of ponderous keys he took, 
 Lighted a torch, and Allan led 
 Through grated arch and passage dre^d. 
 Portals they passed, where deep withiii, 
 Spoke prisoner's moan, and fetters' din ; 
 Throuo-h 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,, >E 
 By artists formed, who deemed it shame /. 
 And sin to give their work a name. >•>-<' ■^(■'T 
 They halted at a low-browed porch, . ; 
 
 And Brent to Allan gave the torch,
 
 CANTO vr. THE GUARD-ROOM. 259 
 
 • 
 
 While bolt and chain he backward roDed, 
 
 And made the bar unhasp its hold. 
 
 They entered : — 'twas a prison-room 
 
 Of stern security and gloom, 
 
 Yet not a dungeon ; for the day 
 
 Through lofty gratings found its way, 
 
 And rude and antique garniture 
 
 Decked the sad walls and oaken floor ; 
 
 Such as the rugged days of old, 
 
 Deem'd fit for captive noble's hold. 
 
 *' Here," said De Brent, " thou may'st remain 
 
 Till the Leach visit him again. 
 
 Strict is his charge, the warders tell. 
 
 To tend the noble prisoner well." — 
 
 Retiring then the bolt he drew. 
 
 And the lock's murmurs growl'd anew. 
 
 Roused at the sound, from lowly bed 
 
 A Captive feebly raised his liead ; 
 
 The wondering Minstrel looked, and knew 
 
 Not his dear lord, but Uodei'ick Dhu !
 
 260 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 For, come from where Clan- Alpine, fought. 
 They, erring, deemed the Chief he sought. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 As the tall ship, whose lofty prore 
 Shall never stem the billows more, 
 Deserted by her gallant band, 
 Amid the breakers lies astrand, — 
 So, on his couch, lay Roderick Dhu ! 
 And oft his fevered limbs he threw 
 In toss abrupt, as when her sides 
 Lie rocking in the advancing tides. 
 That shake her frame with ceaseless beat. 
 Yet cannot heave her from her seat j — 
 O ! how unlike her course on sea ! 
 Or his free step on hill and lea ! — 
 Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, 
 — '* What of thy lady ? — of my clan ? — 
 My mother ? — Douglas ? — tell me all ! 
 Have they been ruined in my fall ?
 
 GANTOVI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 261 
 
 Ah, yes ! or wherefore art thou here ! 
 
 Yet speak, — speak boldly, — do not fear.** — 
 
 (For Allan, who his mood well knew. 
 
 Was choked with grief and terror too.) — 
 
 " Who fought — who fled ! — Old man, be brief ;- 
 
 Some might — for they had lost their Chief. 
 
 Who basely live ? — who bravely died ?" — 
 
 " O, calm thee. Chief!" the Minstrel cried, 
 
 *' Ellen is safe ;" — " For that, thank heaven !" 
 
 " And hopes arc for the Douglas given ; — 
 
 The Lady Margaret too is well. 
 
 And, for thy clan, — on field or fell. 
 
 Has never harp of minstrel told, 
 
 Of combat fought so true and bold. 
 
 Thy stately pine is yet imbent. 
 
 Though many a goodly bough is rent.'* — 
 
 XIV. 
 The Chieftain reared his form on high, 
 And fever's fire was in his eye ;
 
 •262 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 ]3ut ghastly, pale, and livid streaks ''^^^ ''^'Q- 
 
 Chequered his swarthy brow and cheeks. ^^ 
 
 — *' Hark, Minstrel ! I have heard thee playf 
 
 With measure bold on festal day, ^ -• ^^ 
 
 In yon lone isle, . . . again where ne'er ''^ 
 
 Shall harper play, or warrior hear ! . . . ■- 
 
 That stirring air that peals on high, 
 
 O'er Dermid's race our victory. — - if 
 
 Strike it ! — and then, (for well thou canst,) 
 
 Free from thy minstrel-spirit glanced, 
 
 Fling me the picture of the fight, 
 
 When met my clan the Saxon might. 
 
 I'll listen, till my fancy hears 
 
 The clang of swords, the crash of spears ! 
 
 These grates, these walls, shall vanish then. 
 
 For the fair field of fighting men. 
 
 And my free spirit burst away. 
 
 As if it soared from battle-fray." — 
 
 The trembling bard with awe obeyed, — • 
 
 Slow on the harp his hand he laid ;
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 268 
 
 But soon remembrance of the sight 
 He witnessed from the mountain's height, 
 With what old Bertram told at night, 
 Awakened the full power of song. 
 And bore him in career along ; — 
 As shallop launched on river's tide, 
 That slow and fearful leaves the side, 
 But, when it feels the middle stream, 
 Drives downward swift as lightning's beani. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Battle of Beal ' an SDuine* 
 
 ** The Minstrel came once more to view 
 The eastern ridge of Ben-venue, 
 For, ere he parted, he would say 
 Farewell to lovely Loch-Achray — 
 Where shall he find, in foreign land, 
 So lone a lake, so sweet a strand ! — 
 
 There is no breeze upon the fern, 
 
 No ripple on the lake,
 
 264 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 Upon her eyrie nods the erne. 
 
 The deer has sought the brake f 
 The small birds will not sing aloud, 
 
 1 he springing trout Ues still, 
 So darkly glooms yon thunder cloud. 
 That swathes, as with a purple shroud, 
 
 Benledi's distant hill. 
 Is it the thunder's solemn sound 
 
 That mutters deep and dread, f 
 
 Or echoes from the groaning ground 
 
 The warriors' measured tread ? 
 Is it the lightning's quivering glance 
 
 That on the thicket streams. 
 Or do they flash on spear and lance 
 The sun's retiring beams ? 
 — I see the dagger-crest of Mar, 
 I see the Moray's silver star. 
 Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war, 
 That up the lake comes winding far ! 

 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 265 
 
 To hero boune for battle-strife, 
 
 Or bard of martial lay, 
 'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, 
 
 One glance at their array ! 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " Their light-armed archers far and near 
 
 Surveyed the tangled ground. 
 Their centre ranks, with pike and spear, 
 
 A twilight forest frowned. 
 Their barded horsemen, in the rear. 
 
 The stern battalia crowned. 
 No cymbal clashed, no clarion rang. 
 
 Still were the pipe and drum j 
 Save heavy tread, and armour's clang, 
 
 The sullen march was dumb. 
 There breathed no wind their crests to shake, 
 
 Or wave their flags abroad j 
 Scarce the fi-ail aspen seemed to quake. 
 
 That shadowed o'er their road.
 
 266 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 Their vaward scouts no tidings bring. 
 
 Can rouse no lurking foe, 
 Nor spy a trace of living thing. 
 
 Save when they stirred the roe ; 
 The host moves, hke a deep-sea wave, 
 Where rise no rocks its pride to brave, 
 
 High-swelling, dark, and slow. 
 The lake is passed, and now they gain 
 A narrow and a broken plain. 
 Before the Trosach's rugged jaws ; 
 And here the horse and spear-men 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 I
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 26T 
 
 Forth from the pass in tumult driven, 
 Like chaflP before the wind of heaven. 
 
 The archery appear : 
 For life ! for life ! their flight they ply — 
 And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry, 
 And plaids, and bonnets waving high, 
 And broad-swords flashing to the sky, 
 Are maddening in their rear. 
 Onward they drive, in dreadful race. 
 
 Pursuers and pursued ; 
 Before that tide of flight and chase, 
 How shall it keep its rooted place. 
 The spearmen's twilight wood ? 
 — * Down, down,' cried Mar, ' your lances down ! 
 
 Bear back both friend and foe !* 
 Like reeds before the tempest's frown, 
 That serried grove of lances brown 
 
 At once lay levell'd low ; 
 And closely shouldering side to side, 
 The bristling ranks the onset bide. —
 
 268 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 8ANT0 VT. 
 
 — * We'll quell the savage mountaineer, 
 
 As their Tinchel * cows the game ! 
 They come as fleet as forest deer, 
 
 We'll drive them back as tame.* — 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " Bearing before them, in their course. 
 The relics of the archer force, 
 Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, 
 Right onward did Clan- Alpine come. 
 
 Above the tide, each broad-sword bright 
 
 Was brandishing like beam of light, 
 Each targe was dark below ; 
 
 And with the ocean's mighty swing, 1 
 
 When heaving to the tempest's wing. 
 They hurled them on the foe. 
 
 * A circle of sportsmen, who, by surrounding a great space, 
 and gradually narrowing, brought immense quantities of deer to- 
 gether, wliich usually made desperate efforts to break through 
 fhe Tinchel.
 
 CANT0 vr. THE GUARD- ROOM. 265 
 
 I heard the lance's shivering crash, 
 As when the whirl- wind rends tlie ash ; 
 I heard the broad-swords deadly clang, 
 As if an hundred anvils rang ! 
 But Moray wheeled his rear-ward rank 
 Of horsemen on Clan- Alpine's flanl^ — 
 
 — ' My banner-man, advance ! 
 
 I see,' he cried, * their column shake. — 
 
 Now, gallants ! for your ladies' sake. 
 
 Upon them with the lance !' — ■ 
 
 The horsemen dashed among the route, 
 
 As deer break through the broom ; 
 Their steeds are stout, their swords are out, 
 
 They soon make lightsome room. 
 Clan- Alpine's best are backward borne — 
 
 Where, where, was Roderick then ! 
 One blast upon his bugle-horn 
 
 Were worth a thousand men. 
 And refluent through the pass of fear 
 
 The battle's tide was pour'd j
 
 270 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 Vanished the Saxon's struggling spear, 
 
 Vanished the mountain sword. 
 As Bracklinn's chasm, so black and steep, 
 
 Receives her roaring linn, 
 As the dark caverns of the deep 
 
 Suck the wild whirlpool in, 
 So did the deep and darksome pass 
 Devour the battle's mingled mass ; 
 None linger now upon the plain, 
 Save those who ne'er shall fight again. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Now westward rolls the battle's din. 
 
 That deep and doubling pass within. 
 
 — Minstrel, away ! the work of fate 
 
 Is bearing on : its issue wait. 
 
 Where the rude Trosach's dread defile 
 
 Opens on Katrine's lake and isle. — 
 
 Grey Benvenue I soon repassed. 
 
 Loch- Katrine lay beneath me cast. * "
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 271 
 
 The sun is set ; — the clouds are met, 
 The lowering scowl of heaven 
 
 An inky hue of hvid blue jia >m 
 
 To the deep lake has given ; 
 Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen 
 Swept o*er the lake, then sunk agen. 
 I heeded not the eddying surge. 
 Mine eye but saw the Trosach*s gorge. 
 Mine ear but heard that sullen sound, 
 Which like an earth-quake shook the ground, 
 And spoke the stern and desperate strife 
 That parts not but with parting life. 
 Seeming, to minstrei-ear, to toll 
 The dirge of many a passing soul. 
 
 Nearer it comes — the dim-wood glen 
 
 The martial flood disgorged agen. 
 But not in mingled tide ; 
 The plaided warriors of the Nortli 
 High on the mountain thunder forth, 
 
 And overhajig its side ;
 
 272 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO Vr. 
 
 While by the lake below appears 
 
 The dark*ning cloud of Saxon spears. 
 
 At weary bay each shattered band, 
 
 Eyeing their foemen, sternly stand ; 
 
 Their banners stream like tatter'd sail, | 
 
 That flings its fragments to the gale, 
 
 And broken arms and disarray 
 
 Marked the fell havock of the day. 
 
 XX. 
 
 " Viewing the mountain's ridge askance, 
 The Saxons stood in sullen trance, 
 Till Moray pointed with his lance. 
 
 And cried — ' Behold yon isle ! — 
 See ! none are left to guard its strand. 
 But women weak, that wring the hand : 
 *Tis there of yore the robber band 
 
 Their booty wont to pile j — 
 My purse, with bonnet-pieces store. 
 To him will swim a bow-shot o'er, 
 And loose a shallop from the shore.
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 275 
 
 Lightly we'll tame the war-wolf then, 
 Lords of his mate, and brood, and den.' — 
 Forth from the ranks a spearman spi-ung, 
 On earth his casque and corslet rung. 
 
 He plunged him in the wave : — 
 Ail saw the deed — the purpose knew. 
 And to their clamours Benvenue 
 
 A mingled echo gave ; 
 The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer, 
 The helpless females scream for fear, 
 And yells for rage the mountaineer. 
 'Twas then, as by the outcry riven. 
 Poured down at once the lowering heaven ; 
 A whirlwind swept Loch-Katrine's breast. 
 Her billows reared their snowy crest. 
 Well for the swimmer swelled they high, 
 To mar the Highland marksman's eye ; 
 For roujid him showered, 'mid rain and haij. 
 The vengeful arrows of the Gael. — 
 In vain. — He nears the isle — and lo ! 
 His hand is on a shallop's bow.
 
 274 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO Vr.. 
 
 — Just then a flash of lightning came, - 
 
 It tinged the waves and strand with flame ; — .^ 
 
 I marked Duncraggan's widowed dame. 
 
 Behind an oak I saw her stand, 
 
 A naked dirk gleamed in her hand : — 
 
 It darkened, — but amid the moan A 
 
 Of waves I heard a dying groan ; — 
 
 Another flash ! — the spearman floats 
 
 A weltering corse beside the boats. 
 
 And the stern Matron o'er him stood, 
 
 Her hand and dagger streaming blood. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 *' Revenge ! revenge !" the Saxons cried, 
 The Gaels* exulting shout replied. 
 Despite the elemental rage, 
 Again they hurried to engage ; 
 But, ere they closed in desperate fight. 
 Bloody with spurring came a knight. 
 Sprung from his horse, and, from a crag, 
 Waved 'twixt the hosts a milk-white flag-
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 27.^ 
 
 Clarion and trumpet by his ^de 
 
 Rung forth a truce-note high and wide, 
 
 While, in the monarch's name, afar 
 
 An herald's voice forebade the war, 
 
 For BothwcU's lord, and Roderick bold. 
 
 Were both, he said, in captive hold." 
 
 — But here the lay made sudden stand. 
 
 The harp escaped the Minstrel's hand ! — 
 
 Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy 
 
 How Roderick 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 sons ; 
 
 At length, no more his deafened ear 
 
 The minstrel melody can hear ; 
 
 His face grows sharp, — his hands are clenched, 
 
 As if some pang his heart-strings wrenched ; 
 
 Set are his teeth, his fading eye 
 
 Is sternly fixed on vacancy ; —
 
 276 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 Thiis, motionless, and moanless, drew 
 
 His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu ! — 
 
 Old Allan-bane looked on aghast. 
 
 While grim and still his spirit passed j 
 
 But when he saw that life was fled, 
 
 He poured his wailing o'er the dead. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " And art thou cold, and lowly laid, 
 Thy foeman's dread, thy people's aid, 
 Breadalbane's boast, CJan Alpine's shade ! 
 For thee shall none a requiem say ? 
 — For thee, who loved the minstrel's lay. 
 For thoe, of Bothwell's house the stay, 
 The shelter of her exiled line, 
 E'en in this prison-house of thine, 
 I'll wail for Alpine's honoured pine ! 
 
 " What groans shall yonder vallies fill ! 
 What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill !
 
 CANTO vr. THE GUARD-ROOM. 277 
 
 What tears of burning rage shall thrill, 
 When mourns thy tribe thy battles done, 
 Thy fall before the race was won. 
 Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun ! 
 There breathes not clansman of thy line. 
 But would have given his life for thine. — 
 O woe for Alpine's 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. 
 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." — 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Ellen, the while, with bursting heart. 
 Remained in lordly bower apart,
 
 278 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 Where played, with many-coloured gleams. 
 Through storied pane the rising beams. 
 In vain on gilded roof they fall, 
 And hghten'd up a tapestried wall, 
 And for her use ft menial train 
 A rich collation spread in vain. 
 The banquet proud, the chamber gay. 
 Scarce drew one curious glance astray ; 
 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 meal her care prepared. 
 While Lufra, crouching by her side. 
 Her station claimed with jealous pride. 
 And Douglas, bent on woodland game, 
 Spoke of the chase to Malcolm Graeme, 
 Wliose answer, oft at random made. 
 The wandering of his thoughts betrayed. — 

 
 ©ANTO VI. THE GUAllD-ROOM. 2f9 
 
 Those who such simple joys have kno\vn 
 Are taught to prize them when they're gone. 
 But sudden, see, she Hfts her head ! 
 The window seeks with cautious tread. 
 What distant music has the power 
 To win her in this woeful hour ! 
 'Twas from a turret that o'er-hung 
 Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 3lap of tge inipmomti ^untssmatit 
 
 " My hawk is tired of perch and hood, 
 My idle grey-hound loathes his food. 
 My horse is weary of his stall. 
 And I am sick of captive thralJ. 
 I wish I were as I have been. 
 Hunting the hart in forests gi'een, 
 With bended bow and blood-hound free, 
 For that's the life is meet for me.
 
 280 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 I hate to J*»arn the ebb of time, 
 From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime, 
 Or mark it as the sun-beams crawl. 
 Inch after inch, along the wall. 
 The lark was wont my matins ring. 
 The sable rook my vespers sing ; 
 These towers, although a king's they be. 
 Have not a hall of joy for me. 
 
 *' No more at dawning morn I rise, 
 And sun myself in Ellen's eyes. 
 Drive the fleet deer the forest through. 
 And homeward wend with evening dew ; 
 A blithesome welcome blithely meet, 
 And lay my trophies at her feet, 
 While fled the eve on wins of arlee,— 
 That life is lost to love and me !" 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The heart-sick lay was hardly said, 
 The hst'ner had not turned her head, 
 
 I 
 i
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM, 281 
 
 It trickled still, the starting tear, 
 
 When light a footstep struck her ear, '^ 
 
 And Snowdoun's graceftd Knight was near. 
 
 She turned the hastier, lest again 
 
 The prisoner should renew his strain. 
 
 " O welcome, brave Fitz- James !" she said ; 
 
 " How may an almost orphan maid 
 
 Pay the deep debt" " O say not so ! 
 
 To me no gratitude you owe. 
 
 Not mine, alas ! tlie boon to give, 
 
 And bid thy noble father live ; 
 
 I can but be thy guide, sweet maid. 
 
 With Scotland's Kine thv suit to aid. 
 
 No tjnrant he, though ire and pride 
 
 May lead his better mood aside. 
 
 Come, Ellen, come ! — 'lis more than time, 
 
 He holds his court at morning prime." — 
 
 With beating heart, and bosom wrung, 
 
 As to a brother's arm she clung. 
 
 Gently he dried the falling tear. 
 
 And gently whispered hope and cheer j
 
 282 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VJ. 
 
 Her faultering steps half led, half staid, 
 Through gallery fair and high arcade, 
 Till, at his touch, its wings of pride 
 A portal arch unfolded wide. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Within 'twas brilliant all and light, 
 
 A thronging scene of figures bright ', 
 
 It glowed on Ellen's dazzled sight. 
 
 As when the setting sun has given ll 
 
 Ten thousand hues to summer even, 
 
 And, from their tissue, fancy frames 
 
 Aerial knights and fairy dames. 
 
 Still by Fitz-James her footing staid ; 
 
 A few faint steps she forward made, 
 
 Then slow her drooping head she raised, 
 
 And fearful round the presence gazed ; 
 
 For him she sought, who owned this state, 
 
 The dreaded prince whose will was fate !— - 
 
 She gazed on many a princely port, 
 
 Might well have ruled a royal court j
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 2S3 
 
 On many a splendid garb she gazed, — 
 
 Then turned bewildered and amazed, 
 
 For all stood bare ; and, in the room, 
 
 Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. 
 
 To him each lady's look was lent, 
 
 On him each courtier's eye was bent ; 
 
 Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen. 
 
 He stood, in simple Lincohi green, 
 
 The centre of the glittering ring, — 
 
 And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King ! 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 As wreath of snow, on mountain bi'east, 
 
 Slides from the rock that gave it rest. 
 
 Poor Ellen glided from her stay, 
 
 And at the Monarch's feet she lay ; 
 
 No word her choaking voice commands, — 
 
 She showed the ring, — she clasped her hands-. 
 
 O ! not a moment could he brook, 
 
 The generous prince, that supi)liant look ! 
 
 7
 
 284 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 Gently he raised her, — and, the while. 
 
 Checked with a glance the circle's smile ; 
 
 Graceful, but grave, her brow he kissed, 
 
 And bade her terrors be dismissed : — 
 
 ** Yes, Fair ; the wandering poor Fitz-James 
 
 The fealty of Scotland claims. 
 
 To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring ; 
 
 He will redeem his signet ring. 
 
 Ask nought for Douglas ; — y ester even. 
 
 His prince and he have much forgiven : 
 
 Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue, 
 
 I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. 
 
 We would not to the vulgar crowd 
 
 Yield what they craved with clamour loud ; 
 
 Calmly we heard and judged his cause, 
 
 Our council aided, and our laws. 
 
 I stanched thy father's death-feud stern, 
 
 With stout De Vaux and grey Glencairn ; 
 
 And Bothwell's Lord henceforth we own 
 
 The friend and bulwark of our Throne.— 
 
 2
 
 CANTO VI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 285 
 
 But, lovely infidel, how now ? 
 What clouds thy misbelieving brow ? 
 Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid ; 
 Thou must confirm this doubting maid." — 
 
 XXVIII. 
 Then forth the noble Douglas sprung. 
 And on his neck his daughter hung. 
 The Monarch drank, that happy hour, 
 The sweetest, holiest draught of Power, — 
 Wlien it can say, with godlike voice, 
 Arise, sad Virtue, and rejoice ! 
 Yet would not James the general eye 
 On nature's raptures long should pry ; 
 He stepp'd between — *' Nay, Douglas, nay, 
 Steal not my proselyte away ! 
 The riddle 'tis my right to read, 
 That brought this happy chance to speed. — 
 Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray 
 In life's more low but happier way,
 
 286 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO Vr. 
 
 'Tis under name which veils my power, 
 
 Nor falsely veils — for Stirling's tower 
 
 Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims, 
 
 And Normans call me James Fitz-James. 
 
 Thus watch I o'er insulted laws, 
 
 Thus learn to right the injured cause." — 
 
 Then, in a tone apart and low, 
 
 — " Ah, httle trait'ress ! none must know 
 
 What idle dream, what lighter thought, 
 
 What vanity full dearly bought, 
 
 Joined to thine eye's dark witchcraft, drew 
 
 My spell-bound steps to Benvenue, 
 
 In dangerous hour, and aU but gave 
 
 Thy Monarch's life to mountain glaive !"•— 
 
 Aloud he spoke — " Thou still dost hold 
 
 That little talisman of gold. 
 
 Pledge of my faith, Fitz-James's ring — 
 
 What seeks fair Ellen of the King r"
 
 HATiSTOVI. THE GUARD-ROOM. 287 
 
 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 Graeme, 
 
 And more she deemed the monarch's ire 
 
 Kindled 'gainst him, who, for her sire. 
 
 Rebellious broad-sword boldly drew ; 
 
 And, to her generous feeling true. 
 
 She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu. — 
 
 ** Forbear thy suit : — the King of Kings 
 
 Alone can stay life's parting wings. 
 
 I know his heart, I know his hand. 
 
 Have shared his cheer, and proved his brand; — 
 
 My fairest earldom would I give 
 
 To bid Clan-Alpine's Chieftain live ! — 
 
 Hast thou no other boon to crave ? 
 
 No other captive friend to save ?" — 
 
 Blushing, she turned her from the King, 
 
 And to the Douelas ijavc the rin<i:,
 
 I 
 
 288 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. CANTO VI. 
 
 As if she wished her aire 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 kneel'd the Graeme to Scotland's Lord. 
 " For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues. 
 From thee may Vengeance claim her dues, 
 Who, nurtured underneath our smile. 
 Hast paid our care by treacherous wile. 
 And sought, amid thy faithful clan, 
 A refuge for an outlawed man, 
 Dishonouring thus thy loyal name. — 
 
 Fetters and warder for the Graeme !'* 
 
 His chain of gold the King unstrung, 
 The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung, 
 Then gently drew the glittering band, 
 And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand.
 
 CANTO vr. THE GUARD-ROOM. 28^^ 
 
 -Harp of the North, farewell ! The liills grow dark, 
 
 On pui-ple pea^s a deeper shade descending ; 
 In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark, 
 
 The deer, half-seen, are to the covert wending- 
 Resume thy wizard elm ! the fountain lending, 
 
 And tl<e wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy ; 
 Thy numbers sweet with Nature*s vespers blending, 
 
 With distant echo from the fold and lea, 
 And herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing 
 bee. 
 
 Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp ! 
 
 Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway, 
 And little reck I of the censure shai-p 
 
 May idly cavil at an idle lav.
 
 290 THE LADY or THE LAKE. CANTO VI- 
 
 Much have I owed thy strains on life's long way. 
 Through secret woes the world has never known, 
 
 When on the weary night dawned wearier day, 
 And bitterer was the grief devoured alone. 
 
 That I o'erlive such woes, Enchantress ! is thine own. 
 
 Hark ! as my lingering footsteps slbw retire, 
 
 Some Spirit of the Air has waked thy string ! 
 'Tis now a Seraph bold, with touch of fire, 
 
 'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing. 
 Receding now, the dying numbers ring 
 
 Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell, 
 And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring 
 
 A wandering witch-note of the distant spell— 
 And now, 'tis silent all ! — Enchantress, fare thee well ! 
 
 END OF CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 1 
 
 ■t
 
 1 
 
 NOTES.
 
 I
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 NoteX 
 - The heights of Uam-var, 
 
 And round that cavern where 'tis told 
 
 A giant made his den of old. — St. I. p. 6. 
 Ua-var, as the name is pronounced, or more properly Uaigh' 
 mar, h a mountain to the north-east of the village of Callender 
 in Menteitli, deriving its name, which signifies the great den, or 
 cavern, from a sort of retreat among the rocks on the south 
 side, said, by tradition, to have been the abode of a giant. In 
 latter times, it was the refuge of robbers and banditti, who 
 have been only extirpated within these forty or fifty years. 
 Strictly speaking, this strong hold is not a cave, as the name 
 would imply, but a sort of small inclosurc, or recess, surround- 
 ed with large rocks, and open above head. It may have been 
 originally designed as a toil for deer, who might get in from 
 the outside, but would find it difficult to return. This opinion 
 prevails among the old sportsmen and dccr-stalkcrs in the 
 neighbourhood.
 
 294 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 Note II. 
 Two dogs of black St Hubert's breed. 
 Unmatched for courage, strength, and speed. — St. VII. p. 10, 
 
 '* The hounds which we call Saint Hubert's hounds, are 
 commonly all blacke, yet neuertheless, their race is so mingled 
 at these days, that we find them of all colours. These are 
 the hounds which the abbots of St Hubert haue always kept 
 some of their race or kind, in honour or remembrance of the 
 saint, which was a hunter with S. Eustace. Whereupon we 
 may conceaue that (by the grace of God) all good huntsmen 
 shall follow them into paradise. To returne vnto my former 
 purpose, this kind of dogges hath beene dispersed thorough 
 tbe countries of Henault, Lorayne, Flaunders, and Burgoyne. 
 They are mighty of body, neuerthelesse their legges are low 
 and short, likewise they are not swift, although they be very 
 good of sent, hunting chaces which are farre straggled, fearing 
 neither water nor cold, and doe more couet the chaces that 
 smell, as foxes, bore, and such like, than other, because they 
 fmd themselues neither of swiftnes nor courage to hunt and 
 kill the chases that are lighter and swifter. The bloudhounds 
 of this colour prooue good, especially those that are cole- 
 blacke, but I make no great account to breede on them, or 
 to keepe the kind, and yet I found a booke which a hunter did 
 dedicate to a prince of Lorayne, which seemed to loue hunting 
 much, wherein was a blason which the same hunter gaue to his 
 bloodhound, called Souyllard, which was white :
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 295 
 
 My name came first from holy Hubert's race, " 
 Souyllard my sire, a hound of singular grace* 
 
 Whereupon we may presume that some of the kind prooue 
 white sometimes, but they are not of the kind of the Greffiers 
 or Bouxes, which we haue at these dayes." — The noble j^rt of 
 Venerie or Hunting, translated and collected for the use of 
 all Noblemen and Gentlemen. Lond. 1611. 4. p. 15. 
 
 Note III. 
 For the death stroke, and death halloo, 
 Mustered his breath, his zchinyard drew. — St. VIII. p. 11. 
 When the stag turned to bay, the ancient hunter had the 
 perilous task of going in upon, and killing or disabling the des- 
 perate animal. At certain times of the year this was held par- 
 ticularly dangerous, a wound received from a stag's horns being 
 then deemed poisonous, and more dangerous than one from 
 the tusks of a boar, as the old rhjone testifies : 
 
 If thou be hurl witli hart, it brings thee to thy bier, 
 But barber's hand will boar's hurt heal, therefore thou needst not 
 fear. 
 
 At all times, however, the task was dangerous, and to be ad- 
 ventured upon wisely and warily, either by getting behind the 
 stag while he was gazing on the hounds, or by watching an 
 opportunity to gallop roundly in upon him, and kill him with 
 the sword. See many directions to this purpose in the Bookft
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 296 NOTES TO CANTO FIUST. 
 
 of Hunting, chap. 41. Wilson the historian has recorded « 
 providential escape which befel him in this hazardous sport, 
 while a youth and follower of the Earl of Essex. 
 
 *' Sir Peter Lee, of Lime, in Cheshire, invited my lord one 
 summer, to hunt the stagg. And having a great stagg in cliace, 
 and many gentlemen in the pursuit, the stagg took soyle. And 
 divers, whereof I was one, alighted, and stood with swords 
 drawne, to have a cut at him, at his coming out of the water. 
 The staggs there being wonderfully fierce and dangerous, made 
 us youths more eager to be at him. But he escaped us all. 
 And it was my misfortune to be hindered of my coming nere 
 him, the way being sliperie, by a fall ; which gave occasion to 
 some, who did not know mee, to speak as if I had falne for 
 feare. Which being told me, I left the stagg, and followed the 
 gentleman who [first] spake it. But I found him of that cold 
 temper, that it seems his words made an escajje from him ; as 
 by his denial and repentance it appeared. But this made mee 
 more violent in pursuite of the stagg, to recover my reputation. 
 And I happcBed to be the only horseman in, when the dogs 
 sett him up at bay ; and approaching nere him on horsebacke, f 
 
 hee broke through the dogs, and run at mee, and tore my 
 horse's side with his homes, close by my thigh. Then I quit- 
 ted my horse, and grew more cunning (for the dogs had sette 
 him up againe), stealing behind him with my sword, and cut 
 his ham-strings ; and then got upon his back, and cut his 
 tliroate ; wliich, as I was doing, the company came in, and bla-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 297 
 
 • med my rashness for running such a hazard." — Peck's Desi- 
 derata Curiosa, II. 464. 
 
 Note IV. 
 And now to issue from the glen 
 No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, 
 Unless he climb, with footing nice, 
 A for projecting precipice. — St. XIV. p. 17. 
 Until the present road was made through the romantic pass 
 which I have presumptuously attempted to describe in the pre- 
 ceding stanzas, there was no mode of issuing out of the defile, 
 called the Trosachs, excepting by a sort of ladder, composed of 
 the branches and roots of the trees. 
 
 Note V. 
 To meet with highland plunderers here. 
 Were worse than loss of steed or deer. — St. XVI. p. 21. 
 The clans who inhabited the romantic regions in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Loch Katrine, were, even until a late period, much 
 addicted to predatory excursions upon their lowland neigh- 
 bours. 
 
 *' In former times, those parts of this district, which are si- 
 timted beyond the Grampian range, were rendered almost in- 
 accessible, by strong barriers of rocks, and mountains, and 
 lakes. It was a border country, and though on the very verge 
 of the low country, it was almost totally sequestered from 
 the world, and, as it were, insulated witli respect to society.
 
 398 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 " 'Tis well known, that in the highlands, it was, in former 
 times, accounted not only lawful, but honourable, among hos- 
 tile tribes, to commit depredations on one another ; and these 
 habits of the age were perhaps strengtiiened in this district, by 
 the circumstances which have been mentioned. It bordered 
 on a country, the inhabitants of which, while they were richer, 
 were less warlike than they, and widely differenced by language 
 and manners." — Graham's Sketches of Scenery in Pert/isfiire. 
 Edin. 1806, p. 97. 
 
 The reader will therefore be pleased to remember, that the 
 the scene of this poem is laid in a time 
 
 When toomiiig faulds, or sweeping of a glen, 
 Had still been held the deed of gallant men. 
 
 Note VI. 
 A grey-haired sire^ whose eyCy inlent. 
 Was on the visioned future bent. — St. XXIII. P. 28. 
 If force of evidence could authorise us to believe facts incon- 
 istent witii the general laws of nature, enough might be pro- 
 duced in favour of the existence of the Second-Sight. It is call- 
 ed in Gaelic Taishitaraugh, from Taish, an unreal or shadowy 
 appearance ; and those possessed of the faculty arc called Tai- 
 shatriny which may be aptly translated visionaries. Martin, a 
 steady believer in the second-sight, gives the following account 
 of it: 
 
 *' The second-sight is a singular faculty of seeing an o therAvise 
 
 
 1
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. -299 
 
 invisible object, without any previous means used by the per- 
 son that uses it for that end ; the vision makes such a lively 
 impression upon the seers, that they neither see, nor think of 
 any thing else, except the vision, as long as it continues; and 
 then they appear pensive or jovial, according to the object 
 which was represented to them. 
 
 " At the sight of a vision, the eye-lids of the person are 
 erected, and the eyes continue staring until the object vanisli. 
 This is obvious to others who are by, when the persons happen 
 to see a vision, and occurred more than once to my own ob- 
 servation, and to others that were with me. 
 
 " There is one in Skie, of whom his acquaintance observed, 
 that when he sees a vision, the inner part of his eyelids turns 
 so far upwards, that after the object disappears, he must draw 
 them down with his fingers, and sometimes employs others to 
 draw them down, which he finds to be the much easier way. 
 
 " This faculty of the second-sight does not lineally descend 
 in a family, as some imagine, for I know several parents who 
 are endowed with it, but their children not, and vice ver- 
 sa : neither is it acquired by any previous compact. And, af- 
 ter a strict enquiry, I could never learn that this faculty was 
 communicable any way whatsoever. 
 
 " The seer knows neither the object, time, nor place of a 
 vision, before it appears ; and the same object is often seen by 
 different persons, living at a considerable distance from one ano- 
 ther. The true way of judging as to the time and circum- 
 stance of an object, is by observation ; for several persons of
 
 300 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 judgruent, without this faculty, are more capable to judge of 
 the design of a vision, than a novice that is a seer. If an ob- 
 ject appear in the day or night, it will come to pass sooner or 
 later accordingly. 
 
 " If an object is seen early in the morning (which is not fre- 
 quent,) it will be accomplished in a few hours afterwards. If 
 at noon, it will commonly be accomplished that very daj'. If 
 in the evening, perhaps that night ; if after candles be lighted, 
 it will be accomplished that night : the later always in accom- 
 plishment, by weeks, months, and sometimes years, according 
 to the time of night the vision is seen. 
 
 " When a shroud is perceived about one, it is a sure prognos- 
 tick of death -. the time is judged according to the height of it 
 about the person ; for if it is seen above the middle, death is 
 not to be expected for the space of a year, and perhaps some 
 months longer ; and as it is frequently seen to ascend higher 
 towards the head, death is concluded to be at hand within a 
 few days, if not hours, as daily experience confirms. Examples 
 of this kind were shewn me, when the persons of whom the 
 observations were then made, enjoyed perfect health. 
 
 " One instance was lately foretold by a seer that was a no- 
 vice, concerning the death of one of my acquaintance ; this 
 was communicated to a few only, and with great confidence : I 
 being one of the number, did not in the least regard it, until 
 the death of the person, about the time foretold, did confirm 
 me of the certainty of the prediction. The novice mentioned 
 above, is now a skilfull seer, as appears from znany late instau-
 
 XOTES TO CANTO FIRST; 301 
 
 ces ; he lives in the parish of St Mary's, the most northern in 
 Skie. 
 
 *' If a woman is seen standing at a man's left hand, it is a 
 presage that she will be his wife, whether they be married to 
 others, or unmarried, at the time of the apparition. 
 
 " If two or three women are seen at once near a man's left 
 hand, she that is next hhn will undoubtedly be his wife first, 
 and so on, whether all three, or the man, be single or married 
 at the time of the vision or not ; of whicii there arc several 
 late instances among those of my acquaintance. It is an ordi- 
 nary thing for them to see a man that is to come to the house 
 shortly after ; and if he is not of the seer's acquaintance, yet 
 he gives such a lively description of his stature, complexion, 
 habit, &c. that upon his arrival he answers the character given 
 him in all respects. 
 
 " If the person so appearing be one of the seer's acquaint- 
 ance, he will tell his name, as well as other particulars ; and 
 he can tell by his countenance whether he comes in a good or 
 bad humour. 
 
 *' I have been seen thus myself by seers of both sexes, at 
 some hundred miles distance ; some that saw me in this man- 
 ner had never seen me personally, and it happened according 
 to their visions, without any previous design of mine to go to 
 those places, my coming there being purel}' accidental, 
 
 " It is ordinary with them to see houses, gardens, and trees 
 in places void of all three ; and this in progress of time uses 
 to be accomplished : as at Mogshot, in the Isle of Skic, where
 
 S02 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 there were but a few sorry cow-houses, thatched with straw, 
 yet in a very few years after, the vision, which appeared often, 
 was accompHshed, by the building of several good houses on 
 the very spot represented by the seers, and by the planting of 
 orchards there. 
 
 " To see a spark of fire fall upon one's arm or breast, is a 
 forerunner of a dead child to be seen in the arms of those per- 
 sons ; of which there are several fresh instances. 
 
 " To see a seat empty at the time of one's sitting in it, is a 
 presage of that person's death soon after. 
 
 " When a novice, or one that has lately obtained the second- 
 sight, sees a vision in the night-time wthout doors, and comes 
 near a fire, he presently falls into a swoon. 
 
 " Some find themselves as it were in a crowd of people, ha- 
 ving a corpse which they carry along with them ; and after such 
 visions the seers come in sweating, and describe the people that 
 appeared : if there be any of their acquaintance among 'em, 
 they give an account of their names, as also of the bearers, but 
 they know nothing concerning the corpse. 
 
 " All those who have the second-sight do net always see these 
 visions at once, though they be together at the time. But if 
 one who has this faculty, designedly touch his fellow-seer at the 
 instant of a vision's appearing, then the second sees it as well 
 as the first : and this is sometimes discerned by those that are 
 near them on such occasions."— Martin's Description of the 
 Westcni Islands, 1716, 8vo. p. 300, ct seq. 
 
 To these particulars innumerable examples might be added,
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 303 
 
 all attested by grave and credible authors. But in despite of 
 evidence, which neither Bacon, Boyle, nor Johnson were able 
 to resist, the Taisch, with all its visionary properties, seems to 
 be now universally abandoned to the use of poetry. The ex- 
 quisitely beautiful poem of Lochiel will at once occur to the 
 recollection of every reader. 
 
 Note Vn. 
 
 There, for retreat in dangerous hour. 
 
 Some chief hud framed a rustic bower. — St. XXVI. p. 31. 
 
 The Celtic chieftains, whose lives were continually exposed 
 to peril, had usually, in the most retired spot of their domains, 
 some place of retreat for the hour of necessit}', which, as cir- 
 cumstances would admit, was a tower, a cavern, or a rustic hut 
 in a strong and secluded situation. One of these last gave re- 
 fuge to the unfortunate Charles Edward, in his perilous wan- 
 derings after the battle of CuUoden. 
 
 " It was situated in the face of a very rough, high, and rocky 
 mountain, called Letternilichk, still a part of Benalder, full of 
 great stones and crevices, and some scattered wood intersper- 
 sed. The habitation called the Cage, in the face of that moun- 
 tain, was within a small thick bush of wood. There were first 
 some rows of trees laid down, in order to level a floor for a ha- 
 bitation ; and as the place was steep, this raised the lower side 
 to an equal height with the other ; and these trees, in the way 
 of joists or planks, were levelled with earth and gravel. There 
 were betwixt the tree?, growing naturally^on their own roots,
 
 I 
 
 304 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 some stakes fixed in the earth, which, with the trees, were in- 
 terwoven witli ropes, made of heath and birch twigs, up to the 
 top of the Cage, it being of a round or rather oval shape ; and 
 the whole thatched and covered over with fog. The whole 
 fabric hung, as it were, by a large tree, whicli reclined from 
 the one end, all along the roof, to the other, and which gave 
 it the name of the Cage ; and by chance there happened to be 
 two stones at a small distance from one another, in the side 
 next the precipice, resembling the pillars of a chimney, where 
 the fire was placed. The smoke had its vent out here, all along 
 the fall of the rock, which was so much of the same colour, 
 that one could discover no difference in the clearest day." — 
 Home's Wslori/ of' the Rebellion, Lond. 1802. 4to. p. 381. 
 
 Note VIII. 
 Ml/ sire's tall form tnight grace the part 
 Of Ferragus or Ancabart. — St. XXVIII. p. 35. 
 These two sons of Anak flourished in romantic fable. The 
 first is well known to the admirers of Ariosto, by the name of 
 Ferrau. He was an antagonist of Orlando, and was at length 
 slain by him in single combat. There is a romance in tlie 
 Auchinleck MS., in which Ferragus is thus described : 
 
 " On a day come tiding 
 Unto Cliarls the King, 
 
 Al of a doughti kiiight 
 Was conien to Navers, 
 Stout he was and fers, 
 
 Veruagu he hight»
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. S05 
 
 Of Babiluiin the soudan 
 Thider him sende gan. 
 
 With King Charls to fight* 
 So hard he was to-fond ' 
 That no dint of brond 
 
 No greued him, aplight. 
 
 He hadde twenti men strcngthe, 
 And fourti fet of lengthe, 
 I Thilke painim hede,^ 
 
 \ And four fet iu the face, 
 
 Y-meten' in the place. 
 And fiften in bicde.''- 
 His nose was a fot and more; 
 His brow, as brestles wore; * 
 
 He that i( seighe it sede. 
 He loked lothcliche, 
 
 And was swart '' as any piche, ' 
 
 Of him men might adredc." 
 Romance of Charlemagne, 1. 461-484. JtucMnleck MS. fol. 265. 
 
 Ascapart, or Ascabart, makes a very material figure in tlie 
 History of Bevis of Hampton, by whom he was conquered. 
 His effigies may be seen guarding one side of a gate at South- 
 ampton, while the other is occupied by Sir Bevis himself. The 
 dimensions of Ascapart were little inferior to those of Ferragus, 
 if the following description be correct : 
 
 " They nietten with a geaunt. 
 With a lothelichc semblaunt. 
 
 * Found, proved. ~ Had. ^ Measured. * Breadth, ^ Wete. 
 
 (> Black.
 
 ! 
 
 306 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 lie was wonderliche strong. 
 
 Home ' thretti fote long. 
 
 J lis herd was hot gret and rowe ; " 
 
 A space of a fot betweene is ^ browej 
 
 His clob was, to yeue * a strok, 
 
 A lite bodi of an ok.^ 
 
 Beues hadde of him wonder gret, 
 And askede him what a het,* 
 And yaf ^ men of his contrd 
 Were ase meche^ ase was he. 
 * Me name,' a sede,^ ' is Ascopard 
 Garci me sent hiderward, 
 For to bring this quene ayen. 
 And the Beues her of-slen.'" 
 Icham Garci is *' champioun, 
 And was i-driue out of me '^ toun, 
 Al for that ich was so lite."^ 
 Eueri man me wolde smite, 
 Ich was so lite and so raerugh,'* 
 ilueri man me clepede dwerugh.'^ 
 And now icham in this londe, 
 1 wax mor "* ich understonde, 
 And strengere than other tene ; '^ 
 And that schel on us be sene. 
 Sir Bevis of Hampton, I. 2S12. Auchinkck MS. fol. 18!). 
 
 Note IX. 
 Though all unasked his birth or name. — St. XXIX. p. 35. 
 The Highlanders, who carried hospitality to a punctilious ex- 
 cess, are said to have considered it as churlish, to ask a stran- 
 
 * Fully. ^ Rough. ^ His. * Give. ^ The stem of a little oak 
 tree. ^ He hight, was called. ^Jf.'^ Great. ^ He said. '° Slay. 
 " His. '"^ My. '3 i,ittle. »♦ Lean. " Dwarf. '^ Greater^ 
 taller. '7 Jm.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 307 
 
 ger his name or lineage, before he had taken refreshment. 
 Feuds were so frequent among them, that a contrary rule would, 
 in many cases, have produced tlie discovery of some circum- 
 stance, which might have excluded the guest from the benefit 
 of the assistance he stood in need of. 
 
 Note X. 
 — And still a harp unseen, 
 
 Filled up the symphony between. — St. XXX. p. Z6^ 
 " They (meaning the highlanders) delight much in musicke, 
 but chiefly in harps and clairschoes of their own fashion. The 
 Strings of tiie clairschoes are made of brasse-wire, and the 
 strings of the harps of sinews ; which strings they strike either 
 with their nayles, growing long, or else witli an iastrument 
 appointed for that use. They take great pleasure to decke 
 their harps and clairschoes with silver and precious stones ; the 
 poore ones, that cannot attayne hereunto, deckc them with 
 christall. They sing verses prettily compound, contayning 
 (for the most part) prayses of valiant men. There is not almost 
 any other argument, wliereof their rhymes intreat. They speak 
 the ancient French language, altered a little." * — " The harp 
 and clairschoes are now only heard of in the highlands in an- 
 cient song. At what period these instruments ceased to be 
 used, is not on record ; itnd tradition is silent on this head. 
 
 * Vide" { erteyne Matters concerning the Realmc of Scotland, 
 &c.as tUey were Anno Domini 1597. Lond. MM^i.'" Al».
 
 SOS NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 But, as Irisli harpers occasionally visited the highlands and 
 western isles till lately, the harp might have been extant so late 
 as the middle of the present century. Thus far we know, that 
 from remote times down to the present, harpers were received 
 as welcome guests, particularly in the highlands of Scotland ; 
 and so late as the latter end of the sixteenth century, as appears 
 by the above quotation, the harp was in common use among 
 the natives of the western isles. How it happened that the 
 noisy and inharmonious bagpipe banished the soft and expres- 
 sive harp, we cannot say ; but certain it is, that the bagpipe is 
 now the only instrument that obtains universally in the high- 
 land districts." — Campbell's. /ournej/ through North Britain. 
 Lond. 1808. 4to. I. 175. 
 
 Mr Gunn, of Edinburgh, has lately published a curious essay 
 upon the harp and harp music of the Highlands of Scotland. 
 That the instrument was once in common use there, is most 
 certain. Cleland numbers an acquaintance with it among the 
 few accomplishments which his satire allows to the Highland- 
 ers; — 
 
 In nothing they're accounted sharp, 
 Except in bag-pipe or in harp.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO II. 
 
 Note I. 
 Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel grey. — St. I. p. 47. 
 
 That Highland chieftains, to a late period, retained in their 
 service the bard, as a family officer, admits of very easy proof. 
 The author of the Letters from Scotland, an officer of engi- 
 neers, quartered at Inverness about 1720, who certainly can- 
 not be deemed a favourable witness, gives the following ac- 
 count of the office, and of a bard, whom he heard exercise his 
 talent of recitation. 
 
 " The bard is skilled in the genealogy of all the highland 
 families, sometimes preceptor to the young laird, celebrates in 
 Irish verse the original of the tribe, the famous warlike actions 
 of the successive heads, and sings his own lyrics as an opiate 
 to the chief, when indisposed for sleep ; but poets are not 
 equally esteemed and honoured in all countries. I happened 
 to be a witness of the dishonour done to the muse, at the 
 house of one of the chiefs, where two of these bards were set 
 at a good distance, at the lower end of a long table, with a par-
 
 SIO NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 eel of hii!;l)landers of no extraordinary appearance, over a cup 
 of ale. Poor inspiration ! 
 
 " They were not asked to drink a glass of wine at our table, 
 though the whole company consisted only of the (^reat man, 
 one of his near relations, and myself. 
 
 " After some little time, the chief ordered one of them to 
 shig me a highland song. The bard readily obeyed, and with 
 a hoarse voice, and in a tone of few various notes, began, as I 
 was told, one of his own lyrics ; and when he had proceeded 
 to the fourth or fifth stanza, I perceived, hy the names of seve- 
 ral persons, glens, and mountains, which I had known or heard 
 of before, that it was an account of some clan battle. But in 
 his going on, the chief (who piques himself upon his school- 
 learning) at some particular passage, bid him cease, and cryed 
 out, ' There's nothing like that in Virgil or Homer.' I bowed, 
 and told him I believed so. This you may believe was very 
 edifying and delightful." — Letters frotn Scotland., II. 167. 
 
 Note II. 
 The Grame.— St. VI. p. 53. 
 
 The ancient and powerful family of Graham (which, for me- 
 trical reasons, is here spelled after the Scottish pronunciation,) 
 held extensive possessions in the counties of Dunbarton and 
 Stirling. Few families can boast of more historical renown, 
 having claim to three of the most remarkable characters in the 
 Scottish annals. Sir John the Graeme, the faithful and un- 
 daunted partaker of the labours and patriotic warfare of Wal-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 311 
 
 lace, fell in the unfortunate field of Falkirk, in 1298. The ce- 
 lebrated Marquis of Montrose, in whom De Rctz saw realized 
 his abstract idea of the heroes of antiquity, was the second of 
 these worthies. And, notwithstanding the severity of his tem- 
 per, and the rigour with which he executed the oppressive man- 
 dates of the prince whom he served, I do not hesitate to name 
 as the third, John Grahamc, of Claverhouse, Viscount of Dun- 
 dee, whose heroic death, in the arms of victory, may be allowed 
 to cancel the memory of his cruelty to the non-coriformists, 
 during the reigns of Charles II- and James II. 
 
 Note III. 
 
 T/iis harp which erst Saint Modem swayed. — St, VI. p. 54. 
 
 I am not prepared to shew that Saint Modan was a performer 
 on the harp. It was, however, no unsaintly accomplishnient ; 
 for Saint Dunstan certainly did play upon that instrument, 
 which, retaining, as was natural, a portion of the sanctity at- 
 tached to its master's character, announced future events by its 
 spontaneous sound. " But labouring once in these mechanic 
 arts for a devoute matrone that had sett him on worke, his violl, 
 that hung by him on the wall, of itsowne accord, without anie 
 man's helpe, distinctly sounded this anthime : Guudent in calis 
 uniiiKB sanctorum qui Chrisli vestigia sunt secuti : tt quia pro 
 eius arftore sanguinem suum fuderunt, tdeo cum Christo guu- 
 dent teternum. Whereat all the companie being much asto- 
 nished, turned their eyes from behoulding liini working, to 
 looke on that strange accident." " Not long after, nianie
 
 312 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 of the court, that liitherurito had bom a kind of fayned friend- 
 ship towards him, began now greatly to envie at his progresse 
 and rising in goodness, using manie crooked, backbiting nieanes 
 to deffame his vertues with the black markes of hypocrisie. 
 And the better to authorise their caluinnie, they broHght in this 
 that happened in the vioU, affirming it to have been done by art 
 magick. What more ? this wicked rumour encreased daylj', 
 till the king and others of the nobility taking hould thereof, 
 Dunstan grew odious in their sight. Therefore he resolued to 
 leaue the court, and go to Elphegus, surnamed the Bald, then 
 bishop of Winchester, who was his cozen. Which his enemies 
 understanding, they lajd wayte for him in the way, and hauing 
 throwne him oiF his horse, beate him, and draged hira in the 
 durt in the most miserable manner, meaning to haue slaine him, 
 had not a companie of mastiue dogges, that came unlookt uppon 
 them, defended and redeemed him from their crueltie. When 
 with sorrow he was ashamed to see dogges more humane than 
 they. And giuing thankes to Almightie God, he sensibly againe 
 perceaued that the tunes of his vioU had giuen hira a warning 
 of future accidents." — Flower of the Lives of the most renowned 
 Saincts (f England, Scotland, and Ireland, by ^AeR. FATHER 
 HiEROME Porter. Dowaj', 1632. 4to. tome I. p. 438. 
 
 The same supernatural circumstance is alluded to by the 
 anonymous author of" Grim, the Collier of Croydon." 
 
 I 
 
 «' iDunstan's harp sounds on the wall.ji 
 
 Forrest. Hark, hark, my lord, the holy abbot's harp 
 Sounds by itself so hanging on the wall ! 
 
 I 
 f
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 313 
 
 Dunstan. Unliallowed man, that scom'st the sacred read, 
 Hark, how the testimony of my truth 
 Sounds heavenly music '.vitli an angel's hand, 
 To testify Duustan's integrity. 
 And prove thy active boast of uo effect." 
 
 Note IV. 
 Ere Douglasses, to ruin driveuy 
 
 Were exiledjrom their native heaven. — St. VIII. p. 55. 
 The downfal of the Douglasses of the house of Angus, du- 
 rhig the reigu of James V., is the event alluded to in the text. 
 The Earl of Angus, it will be remembered, had married the 
 queen-dowager, and availed himself of the right which he thus 
 acquired, as well as of his extensive power, to retain the king 
 in a sort of tutelage, which approached very near to captivity. 
 Several open attempts were made to rescue James from this 
 thraldom, with which he was well known to be deeply disgust- 
 ed ; but the valour of the Douglasses, and their allies, gave 
 them the victory in every conflict. At length, the king, wiiile 
 residing at Falkland, contrived to escape by night out of his 
 own court and palace, and rode full speed to Stirling Castle, 
 where the governor, who was of the opposite faction, joyfully 
 received him. Being thus at liberty, James speedily summoned 
 around him such peers as he knew to be most inimical to the 
 domination of Angus, and laid his complaint before them, says 
 Pitscottie, " with great lamentations : showing to them how 
 he was holden in subjection, thir years bygone, by the Earl of 
 Angus, and his kin and friends, who oppressed the whole cmm-
 
 514! NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 try, and spoiled it, under the pretence of justice and his autho- 
 rity ; and had slain many of his lieges, kinsmen, and friends, 
 because they would have had it mended at their hands, and put 
 him at liberty, as he ought to have been, at the council of his 
 whole lords, and not have been subjected and corrected with 
 no particular men, by the rest of his nobles : Therefore, said 
 he, I desire, my lords, that I may be satisfied of the said earl, 
 his kin, and friends ; for 1 avow, that Scotland shall not hold 
 us both, while (/. e. till) 1 be revenged on him and his. 
 
 " The lords hearing the king's complaint and lamentation, 
 and also the great rage, fury, and malice, that he bure toward 
 the Earl of Angus, his kin and friends, they concluded all, and 
 thought it best, that he should be suinmoned to underly the 
 law ; if he fand not caution, nor yet compear himself, that be 
 should be put to the horn, with all his kin and friends, so many 
 as were containetl in the letters. And further, the lords or- 
 dained, by advice of his majesty, that bis brother and friends 
 should be summoned to find caution to underly the law within 
 a certain day, or else be put to the horn. But the earl appear- 
 ed not, nor none for him ; and so he was put to the horn, with 
 all his kin and iriends ; so :. any as were contained in the sum- 
 mons, that compejared not, were banished, and holden traitors 
 to the king." — LinUsaj/ of Pitscoltie's Hisiori/ oj HcotlancL 
 Edinburgh, 161, p. 142.
 
 i ■ 
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. "515 
 
 Note V. 
 In Holy-Rood a knight he slew. — St. XII. p. 59. 
 
 This was by no means an uncommon occurrence in tlie court 
 of Scotland ; nay, the presence of the sovereign himself scarcely 
 restrained the ferocious and inveterate feuds which were the 
 perpetual source of bloodshed among the Scottish nobility. 
 The following instance of the murder of Sir George Stuart of 
 Ochiltree, called The. Bloody, by the celebrated Francis Earl 
 of Bothwell, may be produced among many ; but, as the offence 
 given in the royal court will hardly bear a vernacular transla- 
 tion, I shall leave the story in Johnstone's Latin, referring for 
 further particulars to the naked simplicity of Birrel's Diary, 
 30th July, 1583. 
 
 *' Mors improbi hominis non tarn ipsa immerita, quam pessimo 
 exemplo in publicum fade perpetrata. Gulielmus Stunrtus Al- 
 kiltrius, Aranifrater, natura ac moribus, cujus stepius memini, 
 vulgo propter sitim sanguinis sanguinarius dictus, a Bothvelio, 
 in Sancta Crucis Reeia, exardescente ird, mendacii probro la- 
 cessitus, obsc/emim osculum Uberius retorquehat ; Bothvelius 
 hanc contumeliam tacitus tulit, sed ingentem irarum molem 
 animo concepit. Utrinquc postridie Ediitburgi conventutn, to- 
 tidem numero comitibus armatis, prtzsidii causa, et acriier pug- 
 natum est ; cateris umicis et clientibus metu torpentibus, aut 
 ti absterritis, ipse Stuartus fortissimc dimicatf tandem excusso 
 gladio a Bothvelio, Scythicd feritate transfoditur, sine cujus- 
 quam misericordtd ; habuit ituque quern debuit exitum. Dig'
 
 316 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 nui erat Stuaj'tus qui pateretur ; Bothvclius quifaceret. Vul- 
 gus sanguinem sanguine pi^tedicabat , et fiorum cruore innocu- 
 orum manibus egregie pare7itatum." — R. JOHNSTONI Historia 
 Tterum Brit imnic arum, abanno 1572, ad annum 1628. Am- 
 stelodami, 1655, Ibl. p. 135. 
 
 Note VI, 
 The Douglas like a stricken deer, 
 Disozcned by every noble peer. — St. XII. p. 00, 
 The exiled state of this powerful race is not exaggerated in 
 this and subseciucnt passages. The hatred of James against 
 the race of Douglas was so inveterate, that numerous as tlieir 
 allies were, and disregarded as the regal authority had usually 
 been in similar cases, their nearest friends, even in the most 
 remote parts of Scotland, durst not entertain them, unless un- 
 der the strictest and closest disguise. James Douglas, son of 
 the banished Earl of Angus, afterwards well known by the title 
 of Earl of Morton, lurked, during the exile of his family, in the 
 north of Scotland, under the assumed name of James Innes, 
 otherwise James the Grieve, (i. e. Reve or BailiUI) " And as 
 he bore the name," says Godscroft, " so did he also execute 
 the office of a grieve or overseer of the lands and rents, the 
 com and eattle of him, with whom he lived." From the habits 
 of frugahty and observation, which he acquired in this humble 
 situation, the historian traces that intimate acquaintance with 
 popular character, which enabled him to rise so high in the 
 state, and that honourable economy by which he repaired and 
 
 !
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. S17 
 
 established the shattered estates of Angus and Morton. — His- 
 tory of the Home of Douglas. Edinburgli, 1743, Vol. II. p. 
 1 60. 
 
 Note VII. 
 JMaronnan's cell. — St. XIII. p. 61. 
 The parish of Kilmaronock, at the eastern extremity of Loch- 
 Lomond, derives its name from a cell or chapel, dedicated to 
 Saint Maronoch, or Maraoch, or Maronan, about whose sanc- 
 tity very little is now remembered. There is a fountain de- 
 voted to him in the same parish, but its virtues, like the merits 
 of its patron, have fallen into oblivion. 
 
 Note VIII. 
 Brackliiin's thundering wave. — St. XIV. p. 62. 
 This is a beautiful cascade made at a place called the Bridge 
 of Bracklinn, by a mountain stream called the Keltie, about a 
 mile from the village of Callander, in Menteith. Above a chasm 
 where the brook precipitates itself from a height of at least fifty 
 feet, there is thrown, for the convenience of the neighbourhood, 
 a rustic foot-bridge, of about three feet in breadth, and without 
 ledges, which is scarcely to be crossed by a stranger without awe 
 and apprehension. 
 
 Note IX. 
 For Tine-man forged by fairt/ lore. — St. XV. p. G4. 
 Archibald, the third Earl of Douglas, was so unfortunate in
 
 518 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 all his enterprizes, that he acquired the epithet of Tineman, 
 because he lined, or lost, liis followers in every battle which he 
 fought. He was vanquished, as every reader must remember, 
 in the bloody battle of Homildon-hill, near Wooler, where he 
 himself lost an eye, and was made prisoner by Hotspur. He 
 was no less unfortunate when allied with Percy, being wound- 
 ed and taken at the battle of Shrewsbury. He was so unsuc- 
 cessful in an attempt to besiege Roxburgh Castle, that it was 
 called the Foul Raid, or disgraceful expedition. His ill for- 
 tune left him indeed at the battle of Beauge, in France; but it 
 •was only to return with double emphasis at the subsequent ac- 
 tion of Vernoil, the last and most unlucky of his encounters, in 
 which he fell, with the flower of the Scottish chivalry, then 
 ser\'ing as auxiliaries in France, and about two thousand com- 
 mon soldiers, A. D. 1424. 
 
 Note X. 
 Did, self-unscabbarded, fore-show 
 The footstep of' a secret foe.— St. XV. p. 64. 
 The ancient warriors, whose hope and confidence rested 
 chiefly in their blades, were accustomed to detluce omens from 
 them, especially from such as were supposed to have been fa- 
 bricated by enchanted skill, of which we have various instan- 
 ces in the romances and legends of the time. The wonderful 
 sword Skoffnung, wielded by the celebrated Hrolf Kraka, 
 was of this description. It was deposited in the tomb of the 
 monarch at his death, and taken fi:om thence by Skeggo, a ce- 
 
 i 
 
 1
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. Sl9 
 
 Icbratetl pirate, who bestowed it upon his son-in-law, Kor- 
 mak, with the following curious directions : " The manner of 
 using it will appear strange to you. A small bag is attached to 
 it, which take heed not to violate. Let not the lays of the 
 sun touch the upper part of the handle, nor unsheath it, unless 
 thou art ready for battle. But when thou coroest to the place 
 of fight, go aside from the rest, grasp and extend the SA'Ord, 
 and breathe upon it. Then a small worm will creep out of the 
 handle : loM'er the handle, that he may more easily return in- 
 to it.' Kormak. after having received the sword, returned 
 home to hi.-, mother. He shewed the sword, and attempted to 
 draw it, as unnecessarily as ineffectually, for he could not 
 pluck it out of the sheath. His mother, Delia, exclaimed, 
 * Do p.'>t uos]iise the counsel given to thee, my son.' Kor- 
 raak however, repeating his efforts, pressed down the handle 
 with his feet, and tore off' the bag, when Skoffhung emitted a 
 hollow groan : but still he could not unsheathe the sword. 
 Kormak then went out with Bessus, whom he had challenged 
 to fight with him, and drew apart at the place of combat. He 
 sat down upon the ground, and ungirding the sword, which he 
 bore above Ins vestments, did not remember to shield the hilt 
 from the rays of the sun. In vain he endeavoured to draw it, 
 till he placed his foot against the hilt ; then the worm issued 
 from it. But Kormak did not rightly handle the weapon, in 
 consetiuence whereof, good fortune deserted it. As he un- 
 sheathed Skoffhung, it emitted a hollow murnmr"-^}i(irt/iolini
 
 S20 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 de Causis Contempta a Danis adhuc GentlUbus Mortis Libri 
 Tres. Hafnia, 1689. 4to. p. 574. 
 
 To the history of this sentient ami prescient weapon, I beg 
 leave to add, from memory, the following legend, for which I 
 cannot produce any better aiithoritj'. A yomig nobleman, of 
 high hopes and fortune, chanced to lose his way in the town 
 which he inhabited, the capital, if I mistake not, of a German 
 province. He had accidentally involved himself among the 
 narrow and winding streets of a suburb, inhabited by the low- 
 est order of the people, and an approaching thunder-shower 
 determined him to ask a short refuge in the most decent habi- 
 tation that was near him. He knocked at the door, which was 
 opened by a tall man, of a grisly and ferocious aspect, and sor- 
 did dress. The stranger was readily ushered to a chamber, 
 where swords, scourges, and machines, which seemed to be im- 
 plements of torture, were suspended on the wall. One of 
 these swords dropped fi'om its scabbard, as the nobleman, af- 
 ter a moment's hesitation, crossed the tlireshold. His host 
 immediately stared at him, with such a marked expression, 
 that the young man could not help demanding his name and 
 business, and the meaning of his looking at him so fixedly. 
 *' I am," answered the man, " the public executioner of this 
 city; and the incident you have observed is a sure augury, 
 that I shall, in discharge of my duty, one day cut off your 
 head with the weapon which has just now spontaneously un- 
 sheathed itself" The nobleman lost no time in leaving his 
 place of refuge; but, engaging in some of the plots of the 
 
 7
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. S2l 
 
 period, was shortly after decapitated by tliat very man and in- 
 strument. 
 
 Lord Lovat is said, by the author of the Letters from Scot- 
 land, to have affirmed, that a number of swords that hung up 
 in the hall of the mansion-house, leaped of themselves out of 
 the scabbard at the instant he was born. This story passed 
 current among his clan, but, like that of the story I have just 
 quoted, proved an unfortunate omen. — Letters from Scotland, 
 Vol. II. p. 214. 
 
 Note XI. 
 
 — The pibroch proud. — St. XVII. p. 67. 
 
 The connoisseurs in pipe-music affect to discover, in a well- 
 composed pibroch, the imitative sounds of march, conflict, 
 flight, pursuit, and all the " current of a heady fight." To this 
 opinion, Dr Beattie has given his suffrage in the following ele- 
 gant passage : — " A pibroch is a species of tune peculiar, I 
 think, to the Highlands and western isles of Scotland. It is 
 performed on a bagpipe, and differs totally from all other mu- 
 sic. Its rythm is so irregular, and its notes, especially in the 
 quick movement, so mixed and huddled together, that a stran- 
 ger finds it impossible to reconcile his ear to it, so as to per- 
 ceive its modulation. Some of these pibrochs, being intended 
 to represent a battle, begin with a grave motion, resembling a 
 march ; then gradually quicken into the onset ; run off with 
 noisy confusion, and turbulent rapidity, to imitate the conflict
 
 I 
 
 322 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 and pursuit ; then swell into a few flourishes of triumphant 
 joy; and perhaps close with the wild and slow wailin^s of a 
 funeral procession." — Efisar/ on Laughter and Ludicrous Com' 
 position, Chap. III. Note. 
 
 Note XII. 
 Roderigh vlch Alpine Dim, ho ! ieroe ! — St. XIX. p. 69. 
 Besides his ordinary name and surname, which were chiefly 
 used in his intercourse with the Lowlands, every Highland 
 chief had an epithet expressive of his patriarchal dignity as 
 head of the clan, and which was common to all his predecessors 
 and successors, as Pliaroah to the kings of Egypt, or Arsaces 
 to those of Parthia. This name was usually a patronymic, ex- 
 pressive of his descent from the founder of the family. Thus 
 the Duke of Argyleis called iVIacCallanmore, or the Son of 
 Colin the Great. Sometimes, however, it is derived from ar- 
 morial distinctions, or the memory of some great feat : thus 
 Lord Seaforth, as chief of the Mackenzies, or Clan-Kenuet, 
 bears the epithet of Caber-fae, or Buck's Head, as representa- 
 tive of Colin Fitzgerald, founder of the family, who saved the 
 Scottish king, when endangered by a stag. But besides this 
 title, which belonged to his ofRce and dignity, the chieftain had 
 usually another peculiar to himself, which distinguished him 
 from the chieftains of the same race. This was sometimes de- 
 rived from complexion, as dhu or roy ; sometimes from size, 
 as beg or more ; at other times, from some particular exploit.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. S23 
 
 or from some peculiarity of habit or appearance. The line of 
 the text therefore signifies. 
 
 Black Roderick, the descendant of Alpine. 
 
 The song itself is intended as an imitation of the jorramsy 
 or boat-songs of the Highlanders, which were usually composed 
 in honour of a favourite chief They are so adapted as to keep 
 time with the sweep of the oars, and it is easy to distinguish 
 between those intended to be sung to the oars of a galley, where 
 the stroke is lengthened and doubled as it were, and those 
 wln'ch were timed to the rowers of an ortlinarj' boat. 
 
 Note Xlir. 
 The best of Loch-Lomond lie dead on her side. — St. XX. p. 70. 
 The Lennox, as the district is called which encircles the 
 lower extremity of Loch-Lomond, was peculiarly exposed to 
 the incursions of the mountaineers, who inhabited the inacces- 
 sible fastnesses at the upper end of the lake, and the neigh- 
 bouring district of Loch Katrine. Tlicse were often marked 
 by circumstances of great ferocity, of which the noted conflict 
 of Glen-fruin is a celebrated instance. This was a clan-battle, 
 in which the Macgregors, headed by Allaster Macgregor, chief 
 of the clan, encountered the sept of Colquhouns, comman;led 
 by Sir Humphry Colquhoun of Luss. It is on all hands allow- 
 ed, that the action was desperately fought, and that the Col- 
 quhouns were defeated with slaughter, leaving two hundred of 
 tlieir name dead upon the field. But popular tradition has 
 
 Y
 
 324 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 added other horrors to tlic talc. It is said, that Sir Humphry 
 Colquhoiin, who was on Jiorseback, escaped to the castle of 
 Benechra, or Banochar, and was next day dragged out and 
 murdered by the victorious Macgregors in cold blood. Bucha- 
 nan of Auchraar, however, speaks of his slaughter as a subse- 
 quent event, and as perpetrated by the Macfarlanes. Again it J| 
 is reported, that the Macgregors murdered a number of youths, 
 whom report of the intended battle had brought to be specta- 
 tors, and whom the Colquhouns, anxious for their safety, had 
 sliut up in a barn to be out of danger. One account of the | 
 Macgregors denies this circumstance entirely : another ascribes " 
 it to the savage and blood-thirsty disposition of a single indi- 
 vidual, the bastard brother of the laird of Macgrcgor, who 
 amused himself with this second massacre of the innocents, in 
 express disobedience to the chief, by whom he was left their 
 guardian during the pursuit of the Colquhouns. It is added, 
 that Macgregor bitterly lamented this atrocious action, and pro- 
 phesied the ruin which it must bring upon their ancient clan. 
 The following account of the conflict, which is indeed drawn 
 up by a friend of the clan Gregor, is altogether silent on the 
 murder of the youths. " Jn the spring of the year 1602, there 
 happened great dissentions and troubles between the laird of 
 Luss, chief of the Colquhouns, and Alexander, laird of Mac- 
 gregor. The original of these quarrels proceeded from injuries 
 and provocations mutually given and received, not long before. 
 Macgregor, however, wanting to have them ended in friendly 
 conferences, marched at the head of two hundred of his dan.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 325 
 
 to Leven, which borders on Luss, his country, with a view of 
 settling matters by the mediation of friends : but Luss had no 
 such intentions, and projected his measures with a different 
 view ; for he privately drew together a body of 300 horse and 
 500 foot, composed partly of his own clan and their followers, 
 and partly of the Buchanans, his neighbours, and resolved to 
 cut off Macgregor and his party to a man, in case the issue of 
 the conference did not answer his inclination. But matters fell 
 othcrways than he expected ; and though Macgregor had pre- 
 vious information of liis insidious design, yet, dissembling his 
 resentment, he kept the appointment, and parted good friends 
 in appearance. 
 
 " No sooner was he gone, than Luss, thinking to surprise 
 him and his party in full security, and without any dread or 
 apprehension of his treachery, followed with all speed, and 
 came up with him at a place called Glenfroon. Macgregor, 
 upon the alarm, divided his men into two parties, the greatest 
 part whereof he commanded himself, and the other he com- 
 mitted to the care of his brother John, who, by his orders, led 
 them about another way, and attacked the Colquhouns in flank. 
 Here, it was fought with great braverj- on botli sides for a con- 
 siderable time; and, notwithstanding the vast disproportion of 
 numbers, Macgregor, in the end, obtained an absolut-c victory. 
 So great was the rout, that 200 of the Colquhouns were left 
 dead upon the spot, most of the leading men were killed, and 
 a multitude of prisoners taken. But what seemed most sur- 
 prising and incredible in this defeat, was, that none of the
 
 Q'i6 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 Macgiegors were missing, except John, the laird's brother, 
 and one common fellow, though indeed mjiny of thcra were 
 wounded." — Professor Ross's History of the Family of Su- 
 therland, 1631. 
 
 The consequences of the battle of Glen-fruin were very cala- 
 mitous to the family of Macgregor, who had already been con- 
 sidered as an unruly clan. The widows of the slain Colqu- 
 houns, sixty, it is said, in number, appeared in doleful proces- 
 sion before the king at Stirling, each riding upon a white pal- 
 frey, and bearing in her hand the bloody shirt of her husband 
 displayed upon a pike. James VI. was so much moved by the 
 complaints of this " choir of mourning dames," that he let 
 loose his vengeance against the Macgrcgors, without either 
 bounds or moderation. The very name of the clan was pro- 
 scribed, and those by wliom it had been borne were given up 
 to sword and fiie, and absolutely hunted down by bloodhounds 
 like wild beasts. Argylc and the Campbells, on the one hand, 
 Montrose, with the Grahames and Buchanans, on the other, 
 are said to have been the chief instruments in suppressing this 
 tlevoted clan. The laird of IMacgrcgor surrendered to the for- 
 mer, on condition, that he would take him out of Scottish 
 ground. But, to use Birrel's expression, he kept " a High- 
 landman's promise;" and, although he fulfilled his word to the 
 letter, by canying him as far as Berwick, he afterwards brought 
 him back to Edinburgh, where he was executed with eighteen 
 of his clan. — BiRREl's Diary, 2d Oct. 1603. The clan Gre- 
 gor being thus driven to utter despair, seem to have renounced
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. •''27 
 
 the laws from the benefit of which they were excluded, and 
 their depredations produced new acts of council, confirming 
 the severity of their proscription, which had only the effect of 
 rendering them still more united and desperate. It is a most 
 extraordinary proof of the ardent and invincible spirit of clan- 
 ship, that, notwithstanding the repeated proscriptions provi- 
 dently ordained by the legislature, " for the timeous preventing 
 the disorders and oppression that may fall out by the said 
 name and clan of Macgregors, and their followers," tliey were, 
 1715 and 1745, in a potent clan, and contimie to subsist as a 
 distinct and numerous race. 
 
 Note XIV. 
 —The king's vindictive pride 
 
 Boasts to have tamed the Border side. — St. XXVIII, p. 81. 
 
 In 1529, James V. made a convention at Edinburgh, for the 
 purpose of considering the best mode of quelling the Border 
 robbers, who, during the license of liis minority, and the trou- 
 bles which followed, had committed many exorbitaucies. Ac- 
 cordingly he assembled a flying army of ten thousand men, 
 consisting of his principal nobility and their followers, who 
 were directed to bring their hawks and dogs with them, tliat 
 the monarch might refresh himself with sport dining the inter- 
 val of military execution. With this array he swept through 
 Ettrick forest, where he hanged over the gate of his own castle. 
 Piers Cockburn of Henderland, who had prepared, according 
 to tradition, a feast for bk reocption. He caused Adam Scott
 
 328 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 of Tushielaw also to be execiital, who was distinguished by 
 
 the title of King of the Border. But the most noted victim of 
 
 I? 
 justice, during that expedition, was John Armstrong of Gil- J. 
 
 nockie, famous in Scottish song, who, confiding in his own sup- 
 posed innocence, met the king, with a retinue of thirty -six per- 
 sons, all of whom were hanged at Carlenrig, near the source of 
 the Teviot. The effect of this severity was such, that, as the 
 vulgar expressed it, " the rush-bush kept the cow,*' and " there- 
 after was great peace and rest a long time, wherethrough the 
 king had great profit ; for he had ten thousand sheep going in 
 the Ettrlcke forest in keeping by Andrew Bell, who made the 
 king as good count of them as they had gone in the bounds of 
 ¥ifc."-^Pitscottie's History y p. 153. 
 
 Note XV. 
 What grace for Highland chiefs judge ye^ 
 By fate of Border chivalry. — St. XXVIII. p. 82. 
 James was, in fact, equally attentive to restrain rapine and 
 feudal oppression in every part of his dominions. " The king 
 past to the isles, and there held justice courts, and punished 
 both thief and traitor according to their demerit. And also he 
 caused great men to show their holdings, wherethrough he 
 found many of the said lands in non-entry ; the which he con- 
 fiscate and brought home to his own use, and afterward annex- 
 ed them to the crown, as ye shall hear. Syne brought many of 
 the great men of the isles captive with him, such as Mudyart, 
 M'Connel, M'Loyd of the Lewes, M'Neil, M'Lane, M'Intosh,
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 329 
 
 John Miidyart, M'Kay, M'Kenzie, with many others that I 
 cannot rehearse at this time. Some of them he put in ward 
 and some in court, and some he tooiv pledges for good rule in 
 time coming. So he brought the isles, both north and soutli, 
 in good rule and peace ; wherefore he had grCat profit, service, 
 and obedience of people a long time hereafter ; and as long as 
 he had the heads of the country in subjection, they lived in 
 great peace and rest, and there was great riches and policy by 
 the king's justice." — Fitscotlie, p. 152. 
 
 Note XVI. 
 
 Rest safe till morning — piti/ 'twere 
 
 Such cheek should feel the midnight air. — St. XXXV. p. 91. 
 
 Hardihood was in every respect so essential to the character 
 of a Highlander, that the reproach of effeminacy was the most 
 bitter which could be thrown upon him. Yet it was sometimes 
 hazarded on what we might presume to think sliglit grounds. 
 It is reported of old Sir Ewen Cameron of Lochiel, when up- 
 wards of seventy, that he was surprised by night on a hunting 
 or military expedition. He wrapped him in his plaid, and Jay 
 contentedly down upon the snow, with which the ground hap- 
 pened to be covered. Among his attendants, who were pre- 
 paring to take their rest in the same manner, he observed that 
 one of his grandsons, for his better accommodation, had rolled 
 a lai'gc snow-ball, and placed it below his head. The wrath of 
 the ancient chief was awakened by a symptom of what he con- 
 ceived to be degenerate hixury, " Out upon thee," said he,
 
 S30 NOTES TO CANTO SECOJVD. 
 
 kicking the frozen bolster from the head which it supporteil, 
 " art thou so efFeniinate as to need a pillow ?" The officer of 
 engineers, whose curious letters from the Higlilands have been 
 more than once quoted, tells a similar story of Macdonald of 
 Keppoch, and subjoins the following remarks: 
 
 " This and many other stories are roraantick ; but there is 
 one thing, that at first thought might seem very romantick, of 
 which I have been credibly assured, that when the Highlanders 
 are constrained to lie among the hills, in cold dry windy wea- 
 ther, they sometimes soak the plaid in some river or burn, (i. e. 
 brook;) and then, holding up a corner of it a little above their 
 heads, they turn themselves round and round, till they are en- 
 veloped by the whole mantle. They then lay themselves down 
 on tile heath, upon the leeward side of some hill, where the 
 wet and the warmth of their botlics make a steam, like tiiat of 
 a boiling kettle. The wet, they say, keeps them warm by 
 thickening the stuff, and keeping the wind from penetrating. 
 
 " I nmst confess I should have been apt to question this fact, 
 had I not frequently seen them wet from morning to night ; 
 and, even at the beginning of the rain, not so much as stir a 
 few yards to shelter, but continue in it without necessity, till 
 they were, as we say, wet through and through. Ami that is 
 soon effected by the looseness and spunginess of the plaiding ; 
 but the bonnet is frequently taken off, and wrung like a disli- 
 clout, and tlien put on again. 
 
 " They have been accustomed from their infancy to be often 
 wet, and to take the water like spaniels, and tfiis is become a 
 
 4 
 
 I
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 331 
 
 second nature, and can scarcely be called a hardship to thera, 
 insomuch tliat I used to say, they seemed to be of the duck- 
 kind, and to love water as well. Though I never saw this pre- 
 paration for sleep in windy weather, yet, setttng out early in a 
 morning from one of the huts, I have seen the marks of their 
 lodging, where the ground has been free from rime or snow, 
 which remained all round the spot .where they had lain." — 
 Letters from Scotland. Lond. 1754. 8vo. II. p. 108. 
 
 Note VII r. 
 -His henchman came. — St. XXXV. p. 91, 
 
 " This officer is a sort of secretary, and is to be ready, upon 
 all occasions, to venture his life in defence of his master ; and 
 at drinking-bouts he stands behind his seat, at his haunch, from 
 whence his title is derived, and watches the conversation, to 
 see if any one offends his patron. 
 
 " An English officer being in company with a certain chief- 
 tain, and several other Highland gentlemen, near Kiilichumen, 
 had an argument with the great man ; and both being well 
 warmed with usky, at last the dispute grew very hot. 
 
 " A youth who was hanchman, not understanding one word 
 of English, imagined his chief was insulted, and thereupon 
 drew his pistol from his side, and snapped it at the officer's 
 head ; but the pistol missed fire, otherwise it is more than pro- 
 bable he might have suflered death from the hand of that little 
 vermin.
 
 332 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 *' But it is very disagreeable to an Englishman over a bottle, 
 with the Highlanders, to see every one of them have his gilly, 
 that is, his servant, standing behind him all the while, let what 
 will be the subject of conversation." — Letters from Scotland, 
 II. 159.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 .Note I. 
 And while the Fiery Cross glanced like a meteor round. 
 
 St. I. p. 98. 
 When a chieftain designed to summon his clan, upon any 
 sudden or important emergency, he slew a goat, and making a 
 cross of any light wood, seared its extremities in the fire, and 
 extineuished them in the blood of the animal. This was called 
 the Fiery Cross, also Crean Tarigh, or the Cross of Shame, be- 
 cause disobedience to what the symbol implied, mferred infa- 
 my. It was delivered to a swift and trusty messenger, who ran 
 full speed with it to the next hamlet, where he presented it to the 
 principal person, with a single word, implying the place of ren- 
 dezvous. He who received the symbol was bound to send it 
 forwards, with equal dispatch, to the next village; and thus it 
 passed with incredible celerity through all the district which 
 owed allegiance to the chief, and also among his allies and 
 neighbours, if the danger was common to them. At sight of the 
 
 4
 
 ;J34 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 Fieiy Cross, every man, from sixteen years old to sixty, capa- 
 ble of bearing armsi was obliged instantly to repair, in his best 
 arms and accoutrements, to the place of rendezvous. He who 
 failed to appear, suffered the extremities of fire and sword, 
 which were emblematically denounced to the disobedient by 
 the bloody and burnt marks upon this warlike signal. During 
 the civil war of 1745-6, the Fiery Cross often made its circuit; 
 and upon one occasion it passed through the whole district of 
 Breadalbane, a tract of tliirty-two miles, in three hours. The 
 late Alexander Stuart, Esq. of Invernahyle, described to me 
 his having sent round the Fiery Cross through the district of 
 Appine, during the same commotion. Tlie coast was threaten- 
 ed by a descent from two English frigates, and the flower of the 
 voungTiien were with the army of Prince Charles Edward, then 
 in Englami; yet the summons was so effectual, that even old 
 age and childlKxxl obeyetl it ; and a foi'ce was collected in a 
 few hours, so numerous and so enthusiastic, that all attempt at 
 the intended diversion upon the country of the absent warriore, 
 was in prudence abandoned, as desperate. s 
 
 This practice, like some others, is conamon to tbe High- 
 landers with the ancient Scandinavians, as will appear by the 
 following extract from Olaus Magnus : 
 
 " Wiien the enemy is upon the sea-coast, or within the limits 
 «f northern kingdomes, then prcsentlj^, by the command of the 
 provincial governours, with the counsel and consent of the old 
 souldiers, who are notably skilled in such like business, a staff 
 of three liands length, in the conmioo sight of them all, is car-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. ti?>5 
 
 ried, by the speedy running of some active young man, unto 
 that village or city, with this command, — that on the 3. 4, or 
 8. day. one, two, or three, or else every man in particular, from 
 15 years old, shall come with his arms, and expences for ten 
 or twenty days, upon pain that his or their houses shall be 
 burnt, (which is intimated by the burning of the staff,) or else 
 the master to be hanged, (which is signified by the cord tied to 
 it,) to appear speedily on such a bank, or field, or valley, to 
 hear the cause he is called, and to receive orders from the said 
 provincial governours what he shall do. Wherefore that mes- 
 senger, swifter than any post or waggon, having done his com- 
 mission, comes slowly back again, bringing a token with him 
 that he hath done all legally ; and every moment one or another 
 runs to every village, aind tells those places what they must do." 
 
 '* The messengers, therefore, of the footmen, that 
 
 are to give warning to the people to meet for the battail, run 
 fiercely and swiftly ; for no snow, nor rain, nor heat can stop 
 them, nor night hold them ; bat they will soon run the race 
 they undertake. The first messenger tells it to the next village, 
 and tliat to the next ; and so the hubbub runs all over, till 
 they all know it in that stift or territory, where, when, and 
 wherefore they must meet." — Olaus Magnus' History of the 
 Goths, englished by J. S. Lond. 1658. ixjok iv. chap. 3, 4. 
 
 Note II. 
 That Monk of savage form and face. — St. IV. p. 101. 
 Tlie state of religion in the middle ages afforded consider-
 
 f 
 
 336 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 able facilities for those whose mode of life excluded them from 
 regular worship, to secure, nevertheless, the ghostly assistance 
 of confessors, perfectly willing to adapt the nature of their doc- 
 trine to the necessities and peculiar circumstances of their 
 flock. Robin Hood, it is well known, had his celebrated do- 
 mestic chaplain Friar Tuck. And that same curtal friar was 
 probably matched in manners and appearance by the ghostly 
 fathers of the Tynedale robbers, who are thus described in an 
 excommunication fulminated against their patrons by Richard 
 Fox, Bishop of Durham, tempore Henrici VIII. " We have 
 further understood, that there are many chaplains in the said 
 territories of Tynedale and Redesdale, who are public and open 
 maintainers of concubinage, irregular, suspended, excommuni- 
 cated, and interdicted persons, and withal so utterly ignorant 
 of letters, that it has been found by those who objected this to 
 them, that there were some who, having celebrated mass for 
 ten years, were still unable to read the sacramental service. 
 We have also understood there are persons among them, wiio, 
 although not ordained, do take upon them the offices of priest- 
 hood ; and, in contempt of God, celebrate divine and sacred 
 rites, and administer the sacraments, not only in sacred and 
 dedicated places, but in those which are prophane and inter- 
 dicted, and most wretchedly ruinous ; they themselves being 
 attired in ragged, torn, and most filthy vestments, altogether 
 unfit to be used in divine or even in temporal offices. The 
 which said chaplains do admirJster sacraments and sacramental 
 rites to the aforesaid manifest and infamous thieves, robbers,
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 337 
 
 depredators, receivers of stolen goods, and plunderers, and that 
 without restitution, or intention to restore, as is evinced by the 
 fact ; and do also openly admit them to the rites of ecclesias- 
 tical sepulture, without exacting security for restitution, al- 
 though they are prohibited from doing so by the sacred canons, 
 as well as by the institutes of the saints and fathers. All which 
 infers the heavy penl of their own souls, and is a pernicious 
 example to the other behevers in Christ, as well as no slight, 
 but an aggravated injury to the numbers despoiled and plun- 
 dered of their goods, gear, herds, and chattels."* 
 
 To this lively and picturesque description of the confessors 
 and churchmen of predatory tribes, there may be added some 
 curious particulars respecting the priests attached to the seve- 
 ral septs of native Irish, during the reign of Queen EUzabeth. 
 These friars had indeed to plead, that the incursions, which 
 they not only pardoned, but even encouraged, were made upon 
 those hostile to them, as well in religion as from national anti- 
 pathy. But by protestant writers they are uniformly alledged 
 to be the chief instruments of Irish insurrection, the very well- 
 spring of all rebellion towards the English government. Lith- 
 gow, the Scottish traveller, declares the Irish wood-kerne, or 
 
 * The Monition against the Robbers of Tjncdale and Uedes- 
 dalc, with which I was favoured by my friend Mr Surtccs, of 
 Mainsforth, may he found in the original Latin, in the Appeiidix 
 to the Introduction to the Border Minstrelsy, JVo. VII, fourth 
 edition.
 
 538 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 preclatoi7 tribes, to be but the hounds of their hunting priests, 
 who directed their incursions by their pleasure, partly for sus- 
 tenance, partly to gratify animosity, partly to foment general 
 division, and always for the better security and easier domina- 
 tion of the friars.* Derrick, the liveliness and minuteness of 
 whose descriptions may frequently apologize for his doggrel 
 verses, after describing an Irish feast, and the encouragement 
 given, by the songs of the bards, to its termination in an incur- 
 sion upon the parts of the country more immediately under the 
 dominion of the English, records the no less powerful argu- 
 ments used by the friar to excite their animosity: 
 
 And more t" augment the flame, 
 
 and rancour of their harte. 
 The friar, of his counsells vile, 
 
 to ipbelle« dot'i imparte, 
 Afi'irming that it is 
 
 an almose deede to God, 
 To make the J.nglish Fubjects taste 
 
 the Irishe rebells rodOe. 
 To spoile, to kill, to biiriie, 
 
 this frier's cnuasell is ; 
 And for the doing of the same, 
 
 be warrantee hcavenlie blisse. 
 He tells a holie tale; 
 
 the white he tournes to Macke; 
 And through the pardons in his male, 
 
 he workes a knavishe kiiackc. 
 
 The wreckful invasion of a part of the English pale is then 
 
 4 
 
 * Lithgow's Travels, first edit. p. 431. 
 13
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 339 
 
 <lescribed with some spirit ; the burning of houses, driving ofl 
 cattle, and all pertaining to such predatory inroads, is illustra- 
 ted by a rude cut. The defeat of the Irish, by a party of Eng- 
 lish soldiers from the next garrison, is then commemorated, 
 and in like manner adorned with an engraving, in which the 
 friar is exhibited mourning over the slain chieftain ; or, as the 
 rubric expresses it, 
 
 The friar then, that treacherous knave, with ough ough-hone la- 
 ment. 
 To see his cousin Devill's-son to have so foul event. 
 
 The matter is handled at great length in the text, of which 
 the following verses are more than sufficient sample : — 
 
 The frier seying this, 
 
 lamentes that lucklesse parte, 
 And curscth to the pitte of hell 
 
 the death man's sturdie harte : 
 Yet for to quight them with 
 
 the frier taketh paine, 
 For all the synnes that ere he did 
 
 remiiision to obtaine. 
 'And therefore swerves his booke, 
 
 the candell and the bell ; 
 But thinke you that suche apishe toies 
 
 bring damned souls from hell r 
 It 'longs not to my parte 
 
 infernall tilings to knowe ; 
 15 I bcleve till later dale, 
 
 thei rise not from belowe. 
 Yet hope that friers give 
 
 to this rebellious rout, 
 If that their soules should chaunce in hell, 
 
 to bring tiiem quicklie out,
 
 340 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 Docth make thcni lead suche lives, 
 
 as neither God nor man, 
 'Without revenge for their desartes, 
 
 permit(e or suiTtv can. 
 Thus fi iers are tlie cause, 
 
 the fountain and the spring, 
 Of hurleburles in this laude, 
 
 of cche unhappie tiling. 
 Thei cause them to rcbell 
 L against their soveraigne quene ; 
 And through rebellion often tyraes, 
 their lives doe vanishe clenc. 
 , So as by friers meanes, 
 
 in whom all follie swimmc. 
 The Irishc karne doe often lose 
 the life, with hedde and liramc.* 
 
 As the Irish tribes, and those of the Scottish Highlands, are 
 much more intimately allied, by language, manners, dress, and 
 customs, than the antiquaries of either country have been will- 
 ing to admit, I flatter myself I have here produced a strong 
 warrant for the character sketched in the text. The following 
 picture, though of a different kind, serves to establish the ex- 
 istence of ascetic religionists, to a comparatively late period, 
 in the Highlands and Western Isles. There is a great deal of 
 simplicity in the description, for which, as for much similar in- 
 formation, I am obliged to Dr John Martin, who visited the 
 
 * This curious Picture of Ireland was inserted by theautlior in 
 the republication of Sonicrs' Tracts, Vol. I., in which the plates 
 lifive been also inserted, from tlie only impressions known to exist, 
 belonging to the copy in the Advocate's Library. Sec Somers' 
 Tracts, Vol. I. p. 591, 591. 
 
 1-2
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 341 
 
 Hebrides, at the suggestion of Sir Robert Sibbald, a Scottish 
 antiquary of eminence, and early in the eighteenth century 
 ptibhshed a description of them, which procured him admission 
 into tlie Royal Society. He died in London about 1719. His 
 work is a strange mixture of learning, observation, and gross 
 credulity. 
 
 " I remember," says this author, " I have seen an old lay- 
 capuchin here, (in the island of Benbecula,) called in their lan- 
 guage Brahir-bnclU, tliat is, Poor Brother ; which is literally 
 true ; for he answers this character, having nothing but what 
 is given him : he holds himself fully satisfied with food and ray- 
 ment, and lives in as great simplicity as any of his order ; his 
 diet is very mean, and he drinks only fair water : his habit is 
 no less mortifying than that of his brethren elsewhere: he 
 wears a short coat, which comes no forther than his middle, 
 with narrow sleeves like a waistcoat : he wears a plad above 
 it, girt about the middle, which reaches to his knee : the plad 
 is fastened on his breast with a wooden pin, his neck bare, and 
 his feet often so too : he wears a hat for ornament, and the 
 string about it is a hit of a fisher's line, made of horse-hair. 
 This plad he wears instead of a gown, worn by those of his 
 order in other countries. I told him he wanted the flaxen gir- 
 dle that men of his order usually wear : he answered me, that 
 he wore a leather one, which was the same thing. Upon the 
 matter, if he is spoke to when at meat, he answers again ; which 
 is. contrary to the custom of his order. This poor man frequent- 
 ly diverts himself witli angling of trouts : he lies upon straw,
 
 342 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 and has no bell (as others have) to call him to his devotion, but 
 only his conscience, as he told me." — Martin's Description 
 of the fVestern Islands, p. 82. • 
 
 Note III. 
 
 Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. — St. V. p. 102. 
 
 The legend which follows is not of the author's invention. 
 It is possible he may differ from modern critics, in supposing 
 that the records of human superstition, if peculiar to, and cha« 
 racteristic of, the country in which the scene is laid, are a legi- 
 timate subject of poetry. He gives, however, a ready assent 
 to the narrower proposition, which condemns all attempts of 
 an irregular and disordered fancy to excite terror, by accumu- 
 lating a train of fantastic and incoherent horrors, whether bor- 
 rowed from all countries, and patched upon a narrative belong- 
 ing to one which knew them not, or derived from the author's 
 own imagination. 
 
 In the present case, therefore, I appeal to the record which 
 I have transcribed, with the variation of a very few words, from 
 the geographical collections made by the laird of Macfarlane. 
 I know not whether it be necessary to remark, that the mis- 
 cellaneous concourse of youths and maidens on the night, and 
 on the spot where the miracle is said to have taken place, 
 might, in an incredulous age, have somewhat diminished the 
 wonder which accompanied the conception of Gilli-Doir-Mag- 
 revollich. 
 
 " There is bot two myles from Inverloghic, the church of 
 
 J
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 343 
 
 Kilmalee, in Logliyeld. In ancient tymes there was ane church 
 builded upon ane hill, which was above this church, which doeth 
 now Stand in this toune; and ancient men doeth say, that there 
 was a battell foughtcn on ane litle hill not the tenth part of a 
 myle from this church, be certaine men which they did not 
 know what they were. And long tyme thereafter, ccitaine 
 herds of that toune, and of the next toune, called Unnatt, both 
 wenches and youthes, did on a tyme conveen with others on 
 that hill ; and the day being somewhat cold, did gather the 
 bones of the dead men that were slayne long tyme before in 
 that place, and did make a fire to warm them. At last they 
 did all remove from the fire, except one maid or wench, which 
 was verie cold, and she did remaine there for a space. She be- 
 ing quyetlie her alone, without anie other companie, took up 
 her cloaths above her knees, or thereby, to warm her ; a wind 
 did come and caste the ashes upon her, and she was conceived 
 of ane man-child. Severall tymes thereafter she was verie sick, 
 and at last she was knowne to be with chyld. And then her 
 parents did ask at her the matter heirofF, which the wench could 
 not weel answer which way to satisfie them. At last she re- 
 solved them with ane answer. As fortune fell upon her con- 
 cerning this marvellous miracle, the chyld being borne, his name 
 was called Gili-doir MaghrevoUich, that is to say, the Black 
 child, Son to the Bones. So called, his grandfather sent him 
 to school, and so he was a good schollar, and godlie. He did 
 build this church which doeth now stand in Lochyeld, calletl 
 Kilmalic." — Macfaulane, ul $upra,\\. 1S8.
 
 1 
 
 ;J14 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 Note IV. 
 Yet n£er again to braid her hair. 
 The virgin snood did Alice wear. — St. V. p. 103. 
 The snood, or ribband, with whi' h a Scottish lass braided 
 her hair, had an emblematical signification, and applied to her 
 maiden character. It was exchanged for the rurch, toy, or 
 coif, when she passed, by marriage, into the matron state. 
 But if the damsel was so unfortunate as to lose pretensions to 
 the name of maiden, without gaining a right to that of matron, 
 she was neither permitted to use the snood, nor advanced to 
 the graver dignity of the curch. In old Scottish songs there 
 occur many sly allusions to such misfortune, as in the old 
 words to the popular tune of *' Ower the muir amang the hea- 
 tlier:" 
 
 Down aman? the broom, the brooni, 
 
 Down amaiit; the broom, m\ dearie, 
 Thi" lassip lost her silken snood, 
 
 That gard her greet till she was wearie. 
 
 Note V. 
 The desert gave him visions wild, 
 
 Such as might suit the spectre's child.—St. VII. p. 105. 
 
 In adopting the legend concerning the birth of the Founder 
 
 of the Church of Kilmallie, the author has endeavoured to 
 
 trace the effects which such a belief was likely to produce, in 
 
 a barbarous age, on the person to whom it related. It seems
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. S15 
 
 likely that he must have become a fanatic or an impostor, or 
 that mixture of both which forms a more frequent character 
 than either of them, as existing separately. In truth, mad per- 
 sons are frequently more anxious to impress upon others a 
 faith in their visions, than they are themselves confirmed in 
 their reality : as, on the other hand, it is difficult for the most 
 cool-headed impostor long to personate an enthusiast, with- 
 out in some degree believing what he is so eager to have be- 
 lieved. It .was a natural attribute of such a character as the 
 supposed hermit, that he should credit tlie numerous super- 
 stitions with which the minds of ordinary Highlanders are al- 
 most always embued. A few of these are slightly alluded to 
 in this stanza. The River Daemon, or River-horse, for it is 
 that form which he commonly assumes, is tiie Kelpy of the 
 lowlands, an evil and malicious spirit, delighting to forebode 
 and to witness calamity. He frequents most Higliland lakes 
 and rivers ; and one of his most memorable exploits was per- 
 formed upon the banks of Locli Vennachar, in the very district 
 which forms the scene of our action : it consisted in the de- 
 struction of a funeral procession, with all its attendants. Tlie 
 " noontide hag," called in Gaelic G las-lie ft, a tall, emaciated, 
 gigantic female figure, is supposed in particular to haunt the 
 district of Knoidart. A goblin dressed in antique armour, and 
 having one hand covered with blood, called, from that circum- 
 stance, Lham-ficarg, or Red-hand, is a tenant of tlie forests of 
 Glenmore and Rothemurcus, Other spirits of the desert, all 
 frightful in shape, and malignant in disposition, are believed to
 
 346 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 frequent difFerent mountains and glens of the Highlands, where 
 any unusual appearance, produced by mist, or the strange lights 
 that are sometimes thrown upon particular objects, never fails 
 to present an apparition to the imagination of the solitary and 
 melancholy mountaineer. 
 
 Note VI. 
 The fatal Ben-S/iie's boding scream. — St. VII. p» 106. 
 Most great families in the Highlands were supposed to have 
 a tutelar, or rather a domestic spirit, attached to them, who 
 took an interest in their prosperity, and intimated, by its wail- 
 ings, any approaching disaster. That of Grant of Grant was 
 called Mai/ Moullachy and appeared in the form of a girl, who 
 had her arm covered with hair. Grant of Rothemurcus had 
 an attendant called Bodach-an-dun, or the Ghost of the Hill ; 
 and many other examples might be mentioned. The Ben- 
 Shie * implies the female Fairy, whose lamentations were often 
 supposed to precede the death of a chieftain of particular fa- 
 milies. When she is visible, it is in the form of an old woman, 
 with a blue mantle, and streaming hair. A superstition of the 
 same kind is, I believe, universally received by the inferior ranks 
 of the native Irish. 
 
 The death of the head of a highland family is also sometimes 
 supposed to be announced by a chain of lights of different co- 
 
 * In the first edition this was erroneously explained as equiva- 
 lent to Uen'Schichiav, or the Head of the Fairies.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. •'5'*7 
 
 lours, called Dr'eug, ov Death of the Dniid. The direction 
 which it takes marks the place of the fimeral. 
 
 Note VII. 
 
 Sounds, too, had come in midnight blast, 
 
 Qf^ charging steeds, careering fast 
 
 Along Benharroio's shingly side. 
 
 Where mortal horseman neer might n'c?e.— St. V. p. J 06. 
 A presage of the kind alluded to in the text is still believed 
 to announce death to the ancient highland family of M'Lean 
 of Lochbuy. The spirit of an ancestor slain in battle, is heard 
 to gallop along a stony bank, and then to ride thrice around 
 the family residence, ringing his fairy bridle, and thus intima- 
 ting the approaching calamity. How easily the eye as well as 
 the ear may be deceived upon such occasions, is evident from 
 the stories of armies in the air, and other spectral plioenomena 
 with which history abounds. Such an apparition is said to 
 have been witnessed upon the side of Southerfell mountain, 
 between Penrith and Keswick, upon the 23d June, 1744, by 
 two persons, William Lancaster of Blakehills, and Daniel 
 Strickct his servant, whose attestation to the fact, with a full 
 account of the apparition, dated the 21st July, 1785, is print- 
 ed in Clarke's Survey of the Lakes. The apparition consisted 
 of several troops of horse moving in regular order, with a stea- 
 dy rapid motion, making a curved sweep around the fell, and 
 seeming to the spectators to disappear over the ridge of the 
 mountain. Many persons witnessed this phrenomenon, and 
 
 13
 
 34S NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 observed the last, or last but one, of the supposed troop, occa- 
 sionally leave his rank, and pass, at a gallop, to the front, when 
 he resumed the same steady pace. This curious appearance, 
 making the necessary allowance for imagination, may be per- 
 haps sufficiently accounted for by optical deception. — Survey 
 of the Lakes, p. 35. 
 
 Supernatural intimations of approaching fate are not, I be- 
 lieve, confined to higliland families. Howel mentions having 
 seen at a lapidary's, in 1 632, a monumental stone, prepared for 
 four persons of the name of Oxenham, before the death of each 
 of whom, the inscription stated a white bird to have appeared, 
 and fluttered around the bed, while the patient was in the last 
 agony. — Familiar Letters, Edit. 1726, p. 247. Glanviile men- 
 tions one family, the members of which received this solemn 
 sign by music, the sound of whicli floated from the family resi- 
 dence, and seemed to die in a neighbouring wood ; another, 
 that of Captain Wood of Bampton, to whom the signal was 
 given by knocking. But the most remarkable instance of the 
 kind, occurs in the MS, Memoirs of Lady Fanshaw, so exem- 
 plary for her conjugal affection. Her husband. Sir Richard, 
 and she, chanced, during their abode in Ireland, to visit a friend, 
 the head of a sept, who resided in his ancient baronial castle, 
 surrounded with a moat. At midnight, she was awakened by 
 a ghastly and supernatural scream, and looking out of bed, be- 
 held, by the moonlight, a female face and part of the form, 
 hovering at the window. The distance from the ground, as 
 well as the circumstance of the moat, excluded the possibility
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. S49 
 
 that what she beheld was of this world. The face was that of 
 a young and rather handsome woman, but pale, and the hair, 
 which was reddish, loose and dishevelled. The dress, which 
 Lady Fanshaw's terror did not prevent her remarking accu- 
 rately, was that of the ancient Irish. This apparition conti- 
 nued to exhibit itself for some time, and then vanished witli 
 two shrieks similar to that which had first excited Lady Fan- 
 shaw's attention. In the morning, with infinite terror, she 
 communicated to her host what she had witnessed, and found 
 him prepared not only to credit but to account for the appari- 
 tion. " A near relation of my family," said he, " expired last 
 night in this castle. We disguised our certain expectation of 
 the event from you, lest it should throw a cloud over the cheer- 
 ful reception which was your due. Now, before such an event 
 liappens in this family and castle, the female spectre whom 
 you have seen always is visible. She is believed to be the spi- 
 rit of a woman of inferior rank, whom one of my ancestors 
 degraded himself by marrying, and whom afterwards, to expi- 
 ate the dishonour done to his lamily, he caused to be drowned 
 in the Castle Moat." 
 
 Note Vlir. 
 
 Whose parents in Inch-Cailliach zcave 
 
 Their shadows o^er Clan-Alpine\ grave. — St. VIII. p. 107. 
 
 Inch-Cailliach, the Isle of Nuns, or of Old Women, is a 
 
 most beautiful island at the lower extremity of Loch-Lomond. 
 
 The church belonging to tlie former nunnei'y was long used as
 
 3S0 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 the place of worship for the parish of Buchanan, but scarce 
 any vestiges of it now remain. The burial ground continues 
 to be used, and contains the family places of sepulture of se- 
 veral neighbouring clans. The monuments of the lairds of 
 Macgregor, and of other families, claiming a descent from the 
 old Scottish King Alpine, are most remarkable. The High- 
 landers are as jealous of their rights of sepulchre, as may be 
 expected from a people whose whole laws and government, if 
 clan-ship can be called so, turned upon the single principle of 
 family descent. " May his ashes be scattered on the water," 
 was one of the deepest and most solemn imprecations wliich 
 they used against an enemy. 
 
 ' Note IX. 
 — — — The dun deer's hide 
 
 On fleeter foot was never tied. — St. XIII. p. 113. 
 The present brogue of the Highlanders is made of half-dried 
 leather, with holes to admit and let out the water ; for walkw 
 ing the moors dry-shod, is a matter altogether out of question. 
 The ancient buskin was still ruder, being made of the undress'd 
 deer's hide, with the hair outwards, a circumstance which pro- 
 cured the Highlanders the well-known epithet of Red-shanks. 
 The process is very accurately described by one Eldar (him- 
 self a Highlander) in the project for a union between England 
 and Scotland, addressed to Henry VIII. " We go a hunting, 
 and after that we have slain red-deer, we flay ofi'the skin by 
 and by, and setting of our bare-foot on the inside thereof, for
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 351 
 
 want of cunning shoemakers, by your grace's pardon, we play 
 the coblers, compassing and measuring so much thereof, as 
 shall reach up to our ancles, pricking the upper part thereof 
 with holes, that the water may repass where it enters, and 
 stretching it up with a strong thong of the same above our 
 said ancles. So, and please your noble grace, we make our 
 shoes. Therefore, we using such manner of shoes,the rough 
 hairy side outwards, in your grace's dominions of England we 
 be called Rough-footed Scots." — Pinkerton's History, vol. 11. 
 p. 397. 
 
 Note X. 
 The dismal Coronach. — St. XV. p. 116. 
 The Coronach of the Highlanders, like the TJlulatus of the 
 Romans, and the Vlaloo of the Irish, was a wild expression of 
 lamentation poured forth by the mourners over the body of a 
 departed friend. When the words of it were articulate, they 
 expressed the praises of the deceast, and the loss the clan 
 would sustain by his death. The following is a lamentation 
 of this kind, literally translated from the Gaelic, to some of the 
 ideas of which the text stands indebted. The tune is so po- 
 pular, tliat it has since become the war-march, or Gathering 
 of the clan. 
 
 Coronach on Sir Lauchlan, Chief of Maclean. 
 
 AVhicli of all the Sennachics 
 
 Can trace thy line from the root, iij) to I'aradife,
 
 ^52 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 But Macvuirili, (be son of Fergus ? 
 No sooner had thine ancient stately tree 
 Taken firm root in Alhin, 
 Than one of thy forefathers fell at Harlaw. — 
 ."Twas then m e loit a chief of lieathless name ! — 
 
 *Tis no ba'se weed — no (ilanled tree, 
 JSm a secdlinj- of last auiuinn ; 
 Kov a sapling planted ai lieltain ; • 
 
 Wiile, wide around, were spread its lofty branckes 
 
 But the topmost bou^h is 'o.*!) laid ! 
 Thou hast forsaken us before Sawaine, f 
 
 Thv dwelling is the winter house; — 
 Loud, sa .', and iaii;hty is thy d -alh song.'— 
 Oh ! courteous champion of !\lontrose! 
 Oh ! stately warrior of the Celtic Ibles! 
 Thou shalt bucke thy harness on no more ! 
 
 The coronach has for some years past been superseded at 
 funerals by the use of the bag-pipe, and that also is, like many 
 other Highland peculiarities, faUing into disuse, unless in rev 
 mote districts. 
 
 Note Xr. 
 
 Benlcdi saw the Cross of Fire, 
 
 It glanced like lighttting up Strath-Ire. — St. XVIII. p. 12.2. 
 
 A glance at the provincial map of Perthshire, or at any large 
 map of Scotland, will trace the progress of the signal through 
 the small ilistrict of lakes and mountains, which, in exercise 
 
 * Bels fire, or 'VVhitsundav. f Halloween.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 353 
 
 of my poetical privilege, I have subjected to the authority of 
 my imaginary chieftain; and which, at the period of my ro- 
 mance, was really occupied by a clan who claimed a descent 
 from Alpine, a clan the most unfortunate, and most persecu- 
 ted, but neither the least distinguished, least powerful, or least 
 brave, of the tribes of the Gael. 
 
 Sliochd nan Righrc Duchasach, 
 Blia sliios an Diin S(aibhinisli, 
 Aig an robli Crun na h' alba o thus, 
 S' aig a bheil Diichas fathast ris. 
 
 The first stage of the Fiery Cross is to Duncraggan, a place 
 near the Brigg of Turk, where a short stream divides Loch- 
 Achray from Loch-Vcnnachar. From thence, it passes to- 
 wards Callender, and then, turning to the left up the pass of 
 Lennie, is consigned to Norman at the chapel of Saint Bride, 
 which stood on a small and romantic knoll in the middle of 
 the valley, called Strath-Ire. Tombea and Arnandave, or Ard- 
 mandave, are names of places in the vicinity. Tiie alarm is 
 then supposed to pass along the lake of Lubnaig, and through 
 the various glens in the district of Balquiddcr, including the 
 neighbouring tracts of Glenfinlas and Strathgartney. 
 
 Note XII. 
 Not faster o^er thy heathery braes, 
 
 BalquiJder, speeds the midnight blaze.— St. XXIII. p. 1 23. 
 It may be necessary to inform the southern reader, that tlie 
 heath on the Scottish moor-lands is often set fire to, tliat the
 
 354 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 sheep may have the advantage of the 30ung herbage produced 
 in room of the tough old heather-plants. This custom (exe- 
 crated by sportsmen,) produces occasionally the most beauti- 
 ful nocturnal appearance, similar almost to the discharge of a 
 volcano. The simile is not new to poetry. The charge of a 
 warrior, in the fine ballad of Hardyknute, is said to be " like 
 a fire to heather set." 
 
 Note XIII. 
 By his Chieftain's hand. — St. XXIII. p. 1 80. 
 
 The deep and implicit respect paid by the highland clans- 
 men to their chief, rendered this both a common and a solemn 
 oath. In other respects, they were like most savage nations, 
 capricious in their ideas concerning the obhgatory power of 
 oaths. One solemn mode of swearing was by kissing the dirk, 
 imprecating upon themselves death by that, or a similar wea- 
 pon, if they broke their vow. But for oaths in the usual form, 
 they are said to have had little respect. As for the reverence 
 due to the chief, it may be guessed from the following odd ex- 
 ample, of a Highland point of honour. 
 
 " The clan whereto the abovementioned tribe belongs, is the 
 only one I have heard of, which is without a chief; that is, 
 being divided into families, under several chieftains, without 
 any particular patriarch of the whole name. And this is a 
 r;reat reproach, as may appear from an affair that fell out at my 
 table, in the Highlands, between one of that name and a Ca- 
 meron, The provocation given by the latter, was — Name youf
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 355 
 
 ehief. — The return to it, at once, was — You are a fool. They 
 went out next morning, but having early notice of it, I sent a 
 small party of soldiers after them, which, in all probability, 
 prevented some barbarous mischief, that might have ensued ; 
 for the chiefless Highlander, who is himself a petty chieftain, 
 was going to the place appointed with a small sword and pistol, 
 whereas the Cameron (an old man) took with him only his 
 broad-sword, according to agreement. 
 
 " When all was over, and I had, at least seemingly, recon- 
 'ciled them, I was told the words, of which I seemed to think 
 but slightly, were, to one of that clan, the greatest of all pro- 
 vocations."— ie«ers/rofl» the North of Scotland, vol.11, p. 221. 
 
 Note XIV. 
 Coir-nan-Uriskin.—St. XXIV. p. 131. 
 
 This is a very steep and most romantic hollow in the moun- 
 tain of Benvenue, overhanging the south-eastern extremity of 
 Loch-Katrine. It is surrounded with stupendous rocks, and 
 overshadowed with birch-trees, mingled with oaks, the sponta- 
 neous production of tlie mountain, even where its clifFs ap- 
 pear denuded of soil. A dale in so wild a situation, and amid 
 a people whose genius bordered on the romantic, did not re- 
 main without appropriate deities. The name literally implies 
 the Corri, or Den, of the Wild or Shaggy Men. Perhaps this, 
 as conjectured by Mr Alexander Campbell, * may have origi- 
 
 ♦ Journey from Edinburgh, 1802, p. I OH, 
 2 A
 
 356 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 nally only implied its being the haunt of a ferocious banditti. 
 But tradition has ascribed to the Urisk, who gives name to the 
 cavern, a figure between a goat and a man ; in short, however 
 much the classical reader may be startled, precisely that of the 
 Grecian Satyr. The Urisk seems not to have inherited, with 
 the form, the petulance of the sylvan deity of the classics : his 
 occupations, on the contrary, resembled those of Milton's lubbai- 
 fiend, or of the Scottish Brownie, though he differed from both 
 in name and appearance. " The Urisks," says Dr Graham, 
 " were a sort of lubberly supematurals, who, like the Brownies, 
 could be gained over by kind attention, to perform the drud- 
 gery of the farm, and it was believed that many of the families 
 in the Highlands had one of the order attached to it. They 
 were supposed to be dispersed over the Highlands, each in his 
 own wild recess, but the solemn stated meetings of the ordef 
 were regularly held in this cave of Benvenew. This current 
 superstition, no doubt, alludes to some circumstance in the an- 
 cient history of this country." — Scenery on the Southern Con- 
 fines of Perthshire. 1806. p. 19. 
 
 It must be owned that the Coir, or den, does not, in its pre- 
 sent state, meet our ideas of a subterranean grotto or cave, 
 being only a small and narrow cavity, among huge fragments 
 of rocks, rudely piled together. But such a scene is liable to 
 convulsions of nature, which a lowlander cannot estimate, and 
 which may have choaked up what was originally a cavern. At 
 least the name and tradition authorize the author of a fictitious 
 tale, to assert its having been such at the remote period in 
 which his scene is laid. 
 
 I
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 35? 
 
 Note XV. 
 
 The wild pass of BeaV-nain-Bo. — St. XXVI. p. IIS. 
 
 Bealach-nam-Bo, or the pass of cattle, is a most magnificent 
 glade, overhung with aged birch trees, a little higher up the 
 mountain than the Coir-nan-Uriskin, treated of in the last note. 
 The whole composes the most sublime piece of scenery that 
 knagination can conceive. 
 
 Note XVI. 
 
 A single page to bear his sword. 
 
 Alone attended on his Lord. — St. XXVI. p. 134. 
 A Highland chief being as absolute in his patriarchal autho- 
 rity as any prince, had a corresponding number of officers at- 
 tached to his person. He had his body-guards, called Luicht- 
 tach, picked from his clan for strength, activity, and entire 
 devotion to his person. These, according to their deserts, were 
 sure to share abundantly in the rude profusion of his hospita- 
 lity. It is recorded, for example, by tradition, that Allan 
 Mac Lean, chief of that clan, happened upon a time to hear 
 one of these favourite retainers observe to his comrade, that 
 their chief grew old — " Whence do you infer that ?" rephed 
 the other. *' When was it," rejoined the first, " that a soldier 
 of Allan's was obliged, as I am now, not only to eat the flesh 
 from this bone, but even to tear off the inner skin, or filament ?" 
 The hint was quite sufficient, and Mac Lean next morning, to 
 relieve his followers from such dire necessity, undertook an in- 
 road on the mainland, the ravage of which altogether cfTacetl 
 the memory of his former expeditions for the like purpose.
 
 35^8 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 Our officer of Engineers, so often quoted, has given us a 
 distinct list of the domestic officers who, independent of 
 Luicht-tach, or gardes de corps, belonged to the establishment 
 of a Hitihland Chief. These are, 1. The Hench-man. See 
 these notes, p. 331. 2. The Bard See p. 30". 3. Bladierf 
 or spokesman. 4. Gillit-more, or Sword-bearer, alluded to in 
 the text. 5. GiUie-casflue, who carried the chief, if on foot, 
 over the fords. 6. Gdlie'comstraine ; who leads the chief's 
 horse. 7. Gillie-Tiushanarinsk ; the baggage-man, 8. The 
 piper. 9. The piper's gillie, or attendant, who carries the bag- 
 pipe. * Althougli this appeared, naturally enough, very ridicu- 
 lous to an English officer, who considered the master of such a 
 retinue as no more than an English gentleman of 5001. a year; 
 yet, in the circumstances of the chief, whofee strength and im- 
 portance consisted in the number and attachment of his fol- 
 lowers, it was of tlie last consequence, in point of policy, to 
 have ih his gift, subordinate offices, which called iraiiiediate- 
 ly round his person those who were most devoted to him, and, 
 being of value in their estimation, were also tlie means of re- 
 warding them. 
 
 * Letters from bcotlund^ vol. li» p. 158. 
 
 *
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 Note I. 
 The Taghairm call'd, bj/ which, afar. 
 Our sires J'oiesazv tlie events of war. — St. IV. p. 146. 
 The Highlanders, hke all rude people, had various supersti- 
 tious modes of enqiuring into futurity. One of the most noted 
 was the Taghairm, mentioned in the text. A person was wrap- 
 ped up in the skin of a newly-slain bullock, and deposited 
 beside a water-fall, or at the bottom of a precipice, or in some 
 other strange, wild, and unusual situation, where the scenery 
 around him suggested nothing but objects of horror. In this 
 situation he revolved in his mind the question proposed, and 
 whatever was impressed upon him by his exalted imagination, 
 passed for the inspiration of the disembodied spirits, who 
 haunt these desolate recesses. In some of the Hebrides, they 
 attributed the same oracular power to a large black stone by 
 the sea-shore, which they approached with certain solemnities, 
 and considered the first fancy which came into their own minds.
 
 360 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 after they did so, to be the undoubted dictate of the tutelar 
 deity of the stone, and as such, to be, if possible, punctually 
 complied with. Martin has recorded the following curiou« 
 modes of Highland augury, in whidi the Taghairm, and its 
 effects upon the person who was subjected to it, may serve 
 to illustrate the text. 
 
 *' It was an ordinary thing among the over-curious to consult 
 an invisible oracle, concerning the fate of families and battles, 
 &c. This was performed three different ways : the first was 
 by a company of men, one of whom being detached by lot, was 
 afterwards carried to a river> which was the boundary between 
 two villages; four of the company laid hold on him, and, ha- 
 ving shut his eyes, they took him by the legs and arms, and 
 then, tossing him to and again, struck his hips with force against 
 the bank. One of them cried out, What is it you have got 
 here ? another answers, A log of birch-wood. The other cries 
 again. Let his invisible friends appear from all quarters, and 
 let them relieve him by giving an answer to our present de- 
 mands ; and in a few minutes after, a number of little creatures 
 came from the sea, who answered the question, and disappear- 
 ed suddenly. The man was then set at liberty, and they all 
 returned home, to take their measures according to the pre- 
 diction of their false prophets ; but the poor deluded fools were 
 abused, for the answer was still ambiguous. This was always 
 practised in the night, and may literally be called the works of 
 darkness. 
 
 " I had an accoimt from the most intelligent and judicious
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 361 
 
 men in the Isle of Skie, that, about sixty-two jears ago, the 
 oracle was thus consulted only once, and that was in the pa- 
 rish of Kilmartin, on the east side, by a wicked and mischie- 
 vous race of people, who are now extinguished, both root and 
 branch. 
 
 " The second way of consulting the oracle was by a party of 
 men, who first retired to solitary places, remote from any house, 
 and there they singled out one of their number, and wrapt him 
 in a big cow's hide, which they folded about him ; his whole 
 body was covered with it, except his head, and so left in tfiis 
 posture all night, until his invisible friends relieved liim, by 
 giving a proper answer to the question in hand ; which he re- 
 ceived, as he fancied, from several persons that he found about 
 him all that time. His consorts returned to him at the break 
 of day, and then he communicated his news to them ; which of- 
 ten proved fatal to those concerned in such unwarrantable en- 
 quiries. 
 
 " There was a third way of consulting, which was a confir- 
 mation of the second above-mentioned. • The same company 
 who put the man into the hide, took a live cat, and put him on 
 a spit ; one of the number was employed to turn the spit, and 
 one of his consorts enquired of him, What are you doing ? he 
 answered, I roast this cat, until his friends answer the ques- 
 tion ; which must be the same that was proposed by the man 
 shut up in the hide. And afterwards, a very big cat * comes 
 
 ^M ■ .■■■■■ I. MM^— ^— — ^^H^— — ^M^^^i^^-^M^^^^l^P^^— — ^H^i» 
 
 * The reader may have met with the story of the " King of
 
 S62 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 attended by a munber of lesser cats, desiring to relieve the cat 
 turned upon the spit, and then answers the question. If this 
 answer proved the same that was given to the man in the hide, 
 then it was taken as a confirmation of the other, which, in this 
 case, was believed infallible. 
 
 " Mr Alexander Cooper, present minister of North-Vist, told 
 me that one John Erach, in the Isle of Lewis, assured him, it 
 was his fate to have been led by his cariosity with some who 
 consulted this oracle, and that he was a night within the hide, 
 as above-mentioned ; during which time he felt and heard such 
 terrible things, that he could not express them ; the impression 
 it made on him was such as could never go off, and he said for 
 a thousand worlds he would never again be concerned in the 
 like^ performance, for this had disordered liim to a high degree. 
 He confessed it ingenuously, and with an air of great remorse, 
 and seemed to be very penitent under a just sense of so great 
 a crime ; he declared this about five years since, and is still 
 living in the Lewis, for any thing I know." — Description of (he 
 Western Isles, p. 110. See also Pennant's Scottish Tour, 
 vol. IL p. 361. 
 
 Note 11. 
 The choicest of the prey we had, 
 
 When swept our merry-7nen Gallan-gad.—St. IV. p. 147. 
 
 I know not if it be worth observing, that this passage is 
 
 taken almost literally from the mouth of an olJ Highland 
 
 the Cats," in Lord Littleton's Letters, It is well known in the 
 Highlands as a nursery tale.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. $« 
 
 Kern, or Ketteran, as they were called. He used to nai'rate 
 the merry doings of the good old time when he was follower 
 of Rob Roy Macgregor. This leader, on one occasion, thought 
 proper to make a descent upon the lower part of the Loch- 
 Lomond district, and summoned all the heritors and farmers to 
 meet at the Kirk of Drymen, to pay him black-mail, i. e. tri- 
 bute for forbearance and protection. As this invitation was 
 supported by a band of thirty or forty stout fellows, only one 
 gentleman, an ancestor, if I mistake not, of the present Mr 
 Grahame of Gartinore, ventured to decline comphance. Rob 
 Roy instantly swept his land of all he could drive away, and 
 among the spoil was a bull of the old Scottish wild breed, 
 whose ferocity occasioned great plague to the Ketterans. " But 
 ere we had reached the Row of Dennan," said the old man, 
 ** a child might have scratched his ears."* The circumstance 
 is a minute one, but it paints the times when the poor beeve 
 was compelled 
 
 To hoof it o'er as many weary miles, 
 
 Witb goading pikemeii hollowing at his heels. 
 
 As e'er the bravest antler of the woods. 
 
 Ethwald. 
 
 Note IIL 
 
 that huge cliff", whose ample verge 
 
 Tradition calls the Hero's Targe. — St. V. p. 1 48. 
 There is a rock so named in the forest of Glenfinlas, hy 
 
 * This anecdote was, in former editions, inaccurately ascribed 
 to Gregor Alacgre^'or of Cilcngjlc, called (jhUne Dim, or Black- 
 knee, a relation of Kob Roy, but, as 1 have been assured, not ad- 
 dieted to his predatory excesses.
 
 364 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 which a tumultuary cataract takes its course. This wild place 
 is said in former times to have afforded refuge to an outlaw, 
 who was supplied with provisions by a woman, who lowered 
 them down from the brink of the precipice above. His water 
 he procured for himself, by letting down a flaggon tied to a 
 string, into the black pool beneath the fall. 
 
 Note IV. 
 Or raven on the blasted oaky 
 That, watching while the deer is broke. 
 His morsel claims with sullen croak. — St. V. p. 148. 
 Every thing belonging to the chace was matter of solemnity 
 among our ancestors, but nothing was more so than the mode 
 of cutting up, or, as it was technically called, breaking the 
 slaughtered stag. The forester had his allotted portion ; the 
 hounds had a certain allowance ; and, to make the division as 
 general as possible, the very birds had their share also. " There 
 is a little gristle," says Turberville, " which is upon the spoone 
 of the brisket, which we call the raven's bone ; and 1 have 
 seen in some places a raven so wont and accustomed to it, 
 that she would never fail to croak and cry for it all the time 
 you were in breaking up of the deer, and would not depart till 
 she had it." In the very ancient metrical romance of Sir Tris- 
 trem, that peerless Knight, who is said to have been the very 
 deviser of all rules of chase, did not omit this ceremony: 
 
 " The raven he yaf his yiftes 
 Sat on the foui ched tree.'^ 
 
 Sir Tristreh, 2d Edition, p. 34.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 365 
 
 The raven might also challenge his rights by the Book of 
 Saint Albans ; for thus says Dame Juliana Berners : — 
 
 SlitJeth anon 
 
 The bely to the side fronj the corbyn bone ; 
 That is corbins fee, at the death he will be. 
 
 Jonson, in " The Sad Shepherd," gives a more poetical ae- 
 count of the same ceremony. 
 
 Marian. He that undoes him, 
 
 Doth cleave the brisket bone upon the spoon, 
 Of which a little gristle grows — you call it — 
 
 Robin Hood. The raven's bone. 
 
 Marian Now o'er head sat a raven 
 
 On a sere bough, a grown, great bird and lioarse, 
 Who, all the time the deer was breaking up. 
 So croaked and cried for it, as all the huntsmen, 
 Especially old Scathlocke, thought it ominous." 
 
 Note V. 
 Which spills the foremost foeman^s life, 
 That party conquers in the strife. — St. VI. p. 1 50. 
 Though this be in the text described as the response of the 
 Taghairm, or Oracle of the Hide, it was of itself an augury 
 frequently attended to. The fate of the battle was often an- 
 ticipated in the imagination of the combatants, by observing 
 which party first shed blood. It is said that the Highlanders 
 under Montrose, were so deeply erabued with this notion, that 
 on the morning of the battle of Tippermoor, they murdered 
 a defenceless herdsman, whom they found in the fields, merely 
 to secure an advantage of so mucli consequence to their party.
 
 . 
 
 S6« NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 Note VI. 
 Alice Brand.— 'St. XII. p. 158. 
 This little fairy tale is founded upon a very curious Danish 
 ballad, which occurs in the Kiempe Viser, a collection of 
 heroic songs, first published in 15:>1, and re-printed in 1695, 
 inscribed by Anders Sofrensen, the collector and editor, to 
 Sophia Queen of Denmark I have been favoured with a li- 
 teral translation of the original, by my learned friend Mr Ro- 
 bert Jamieson, whose deep knowledge of Scandinavian anti- 
 quities will, I hope, one day be displayed in illustration of the 
 history of Scottish Ballad and Song, for which no man pos- 
 sesses more ample materials. The stoiy will remind the read- 
 ers of the Border Minstrelsy of the tale of the Young Tarn- 
 lane. But this is only a solitary and not very marked instance 
 of coincidence, whereas several of the other ballads in thei 
 same collection, find exact counterparts in the Kiempe Vl- 
 SER. Which may have been the originals will be a question 
 for future antiquarians. Mr Jamieson, to secure the power of 
 literal translation, has adopted the old Scottish idiom, which 
 approaches so near to that of the Danish, as almost to give 
 word for word, as well as line for line, and indeed in many 
 verses the orthography alone is altered. As Wester Huf, men- 
 tioned in the first stanza of the ballad, means the West Sea, 
 in opposition to the Baltic, or East Sea, Mr Jamieson inclines 
 to be of opinion, that the scene of the dis-enchantment is laid 
 in one of the Orkney or Ilebride Islands. To each verse in 
 the original is added a burden, having a kind of meaning of itb
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 567 
 
 own, but not applicable, at least not uniformly applicable, to 
 the sense of the stanza to which it is subjoined : this is very 
 common both in Dauish aud Scottish song« 
 
 THE ELFIN GRAY. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH KvF.MPE VISER, p. 143, ANB 
 FIRST PUBLISHED IN 1591. 
 
 Der ligser en void i Vester Haf, 
 
 r>er a/rler en hnnde at h'gge : 
 Hand fdrer did haadl hog ug liund, 
 
 Og ai;ter dar urn vinferen at I'pge- 
 
 (De VJLDE DIUB og OiUKENE UDI SKOFTEN.) 
 
 1. 
 
 There liggs a wold in Wester llaf. 
 There a busbaixle means to l>ijjg. 
 And thither li<" carries baith hawk and hound, 
 There meaning tiie wimer to liga;. 
 
 (The wild deer and dues i' theshaw out.) 
 2. 
 He taks wi' him haith hound and cock, 
 
 The langer h;- means to stay, 
 The wild deer in the shaws that arc 
 May sairly rue the day. 
 {The wild deer, (kc.) 
 3. 
 He's hcw'd the beech, and he's fell'd the aik, 
 
 Sae has he the poplar gray : 
 And }rrim in mood was the growsome elf, 
 That be sa? bald he may.
 
 368 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 4. 
 
 He hew'd him kipples, he hew'd him bawks, 
 
 Wi' mickle moil and haste ; 
 Sync speer'd the elf in the knock that bade, 
 
 " AVha's hacking here sae fast ?" 
 5. 
 Syne up and spak the weiest elf, 
 
 Crean'd as an immert sma ; 
 " It's here is cornea christian man ; — 
 
 I'll fley him or he ga." 
 6. 
 It's up syne started the iirsten elf, 
 
 And glowr'd about sae grim : 
 " It's we'll awa' to the husbande's house, 
 
 And hald a court on him, 
 7, 
 " Here hews he down baith skugg and shaw. 
 
 And wirks us skaith and scorn ; 
 His huswife he shall gie to me ; 
 
 They's rue the day they were born !" 
 8. 
 The elfen a' i' the knock that were 
 
 Gaed dancing in a string ; 
 They nighed near the husband's house ; — 
 
 Sae lang their tails did hing. 
 9. 
 The hound he yowls i' the yard ; 
 
 The herd toots in his horn ; 
 The earn scraichs, and the cock craws, 
 
 As the husbande had gi'en him his corn. ' 
 
 ' This singular quatrain stands thus in the original : 
 " Hundcn hand gibr i gaarden ; 
 
 Hiorden tud^ i sit horn ; 
 (Ernen skriger, og hanen galer, 
 
 Som bonden bafde gifvet sit korn." 
 
 I
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. s69 
 
 10. 
 The lillfen were five score and seven, 
 
 6ae lafdly and sae jjrim ; 
 And they the husbande's guests maun be, 
 To eat and drink nV him. 
 If. 
 The hiisbande out o' Villenshaw 
 
 At his winnock the Elves can see : 
 '* Help me, now, Jesu, Mary's son ; 
 Thir Elves they mint at me !" - 
 12. 
 In every nook a cross be coost. 
 
 In hi s chalmer maist ava ; 
 The Elfen a' were fley'd thereat, 
 And flew to the wild- wood shaw. 
 13. 
 And some flew east, and some flew west, 
 
 And some to the norwast flew ; 
 And some they flew to the deep dale down, 
 There still they are, I trow.* 
 14. 
 It was then the weiest Elf, 
 In at the door braids he ; 
 Agast was the husbande, for that Eif 
 For cross nor sign wad flee. 
 15. 
 >The huswife she was a canny wife, 
 
 She set the Elf at the board ; 
 She set before him bait!) ale and meat, 
 Wi' mony a well-waled word. 
 
 ' In the Danis?! : 
 
 " Sommti floyti oster, og somme floyi vester, 
 
 Nogl6 floye nor paa ; 
 Nogl6 floj^ ned i dybone dalO, 
 Jeg trocr de erfi der endou."
 
 w 
 
 *W NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 " Hear thou, Gndeman o' Villenshaw, 
 
 What now f say to thee ; 
 Wha bade thee bipg within our bounds. 
 
 Without the leave o' me ? 
 17. 
 " But, an thou in our bounds will bigg, 
 
 And bide, as well as may be. 
 Then thou thy dearest huswife maun 
 
 To me for a lemman gie." 
 18. 
 Up spak the luckless busbande then, 
 
 As God the grace him eae : 
 " Lline she is to me sae dear, 
 
 Her thou may na-g.i(e hae." 
 19. 
 Till the Elf he answer'd as he couth : 
 
 " Lat but my huswife be, 
 And tak wltate'er o' {»utle or gear 
 
 Is mine, awa wi" thee." 
 
 " Then ril thy Fline tak and thee 
 
 Aneath my feet to tread ; 
 And hide thy goud and wliite mouie 
 
 Aneath my dwalling-stead." 
 21. 
 The husbande and his househald a' 
 
 Insary rede they join : 
 " Far better that she be now forfairn, 
 
 Nor that we a' should tyne." 
 23. 
 Up, will of rede, the husbande stood, 
 
 Wi' htart fu' sad and sair ; 
 And he basgien his huswife Eline 
 
 Wi' the joung tlf to fare. 
 12
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH^ 571 
 
 23. 
 Then blyth grew he, and sprang about ; 
 
 He took her in bis arm : 
 The rud it left her comely cheek; 
 Her heart was clcm'd wi' harm. 
 24. 
 A waefu' woman than she was ane. 
 
 And the moody tears loot fa' : 
 " God rew on me, unseely wife. 
 How hard a wierd I fa ! 
 25. 
 " My fay I plight to the fairest wighf 
 
 That man on mold mat see i 
 Maun I now mell wi' a laidly EI, 
 His light lemuian to be?" 
 26. 
 He minted ance— he minted twice, 
 Wae wax'd her heart that syth : 
 Syne the laidliest fiend he grew that e'er 
 To mortal ee did kyth. 
 27. 
 When he the thirden time can mint, 
 
 To Mary's son she pray'd. 
 And the laidly elf was clean awa^ 
 And a fair knight in his stead, 
 28. 
 This fell under a linden green. 
 
 That again iiis shape he found ; 
 O' wae qnd care was the word nae mair, 
 A' were sae glad that stound. 
 29. 
 " O dearest Eline, hear thou this. 
 
 And thou my wife sal be, 
 And a' the goud in merry Esglantt 
 Sae freely I'll gie thee. 
 2B
 
 372 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 30. 
 
 " Whan I was but a little wee bairn. 
 
 My mitlier died me frae j 
 My stepinither sent me awa frae her ; 
 
 1 turn'd till aa Elfin. Gray. 
 31. 
 " To thy husband f a gift will gie, 
 
 Wi' uiickle state and ^ear. 
 As mends for Inline his huswife ;— 
 
 Thou's be my heartis dear." 
 . 32. 
 " Thou nobil knyght, we thank now God 
 
 That has freed us frae skaith; 
 Sae wed thou thee a maiden free. 
 
 And joy attend ye bailb ! 
 
 " Sin I to thee na maik can be. 
 
 My dochter may be thine ; 
 And thy gude will right to fulfill, 
 Lat this be our propiue." 
 34. 
 " I thank thee, Eline, thou wise woman ; 
 
 My praise thy worth sail hae; 
 And thy love gin I fail to win. 
 Thou here at hame sail stay." 
 3.0. 
 The husbande biggit now on his oe. 
 And nae ane wrought him wrang; 
 is dochter wore crown in Engelaad, 
 And happy liv'd and lang. 
 36. 
 Now liline the husbaode's huswife has 
 
 Cour'd a' her grief and barms; 
 She's mitber to a noblr queen 
 That sleeps in a kingis arms. 
 2
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 378 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 St. I. Wold, a wood; a woody 
 fastness. 
 
 Husbande, from the Uan has, 
 with, and bonde, a villain, or 
 bondsman, who was a cultiva- 
 tor of the ground, and c uld 
 not quit the estate to which he 
 was attached, without the per- 
 mission ut his lord. 'I'his is the 
 sense of the word, in the old 
 Scottish records. In the Scot- 
 tish " Burghe Laws," trans- 
 lated from the Rej. Majest. 
 (Auchinleck MS in the Adv. 
 Lib.) it is used indiscrimmate- 
 ly with the Dan, and Swed, 
 bonde. 
 
 Bigg, l)uiid. 
 
 Ligg, lie. 
 
 Dues, does. 
 
 2. S/iaw, wood. 
 Sairly, sorely. 
 
 3. Aik, oak. 
 Grousome, terrible. 
 Bald, bold. 
 
 Kipples, (couples,) beams joined 
 at the top, for supporting a 
 roof, in building. 
 
 Bawks, balks; cross beams. 
 
 Moil, laborious industry. 
 
 Spcei\l, anked. 
 
 Knock, hillock. 
 
 r>. fVcicstf smallest. 
 
 Crean'rf, shrunk, diminished; from 
 the Gaelic, crian, very small. 
 
 Immert, emmit ; ant. 
 
 Christian, used in the Danish bal- 
 lads, &c. in contradistinction 
 to demoniac, as it is in England^ 
 in contradistinction to brutes 
 in which sen>e, a person of the 
 lower class, in England, would 
 call a Jew or a Turk, a Chris- 
 tian. 
 
 Fley, frighten. 
 
 6. Glowrd, stared. 
 Hald, hold. 
 
 7. Skugg, shade. 
 Skaith, harm- 
 
 b. Nighed, approached. 
 
 9. Yoitls, howls. 
 
 Toots— -in the Dan. ticde, ia ap- 
 plied both to the howling of a 
 dog, and the sound of a horn. 
 
 Scraichs, screams. 
 
 10. Laidly, loathly ; disguBtirtg- 
 
 Grim, tierce. 
 
 11. IVinnock, window. 
 Mint, aim at. 
 
 12. Coost, cast. 
 Chatmer, chamber. 
 Maist, most, 
 Jivn, of all. 
 
 13. A^oni</rt, northward. 
 Trow, believe.
 
 874 
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 14. Braids, strides quickly for- 
 ward. 
 
 ■Wad, would. 
 
 15. Canny, adroit. 
 Mony, many. 
 Weli-waled, well chosen. 
 
 17. An, if. 
 Bide, abide. 
 Lemman, mistress. 
 
 18. Nagnte, nowise. 
 
 19. Couth, could; knew how to. 
 Lat be, let alone. 
 
 Glide, goods ; property. 
 
 20. Ancath, beneath. 
 Dwalling'Stcad, dwelling-place. 
 
 21. Sarji, sorrowful. 
 Rede, counsel ; consultation. 
 Forfairn, forlorn ; lost ; gone. 
 Tyne, (verb neut.) be lost; pe- 
 rish. 
 
 22. Will of rede, bewildered in 
 thought ; in the Danish origi- 
 nal " vildraadige ;''' Lat. " in- 
 ops consilii ;" Gr. 'a^o^uv. This 
 expression is left among the 
 desiderata in the Glossary to 
 Ritson's Romances, and has 
 never been explained. It is 
 obsolete in the Danish as well 
 as in English. 
 
 Fare, go. 
 
 23. Rud, red of the check, 
 Cleni'd, in the Danish, klemt ; 
 
 (which, in the north of Eng- 
 land, is still in use, as the word 
 starved is with us ;) brought to 
 a dying state. It is used by 
 our old comedians. 
 Hajm, ^rief; as in the original, 
 
 and in the old Teutonic, Eng- 
 lish, and Scottish poetry. 
 
 24. Waefu, woeful. 
 
 iJ/oorfi/, strongly and wilfully pas- 
 sionate. 
 
 Rew, take ruth ; pity. 
 
 Unseely, unhappy ; unblcst. 
 
 Wierd, fate. 
 
 Fa, (Iscl. Dan. and Swed.) take ; 
 get; acquire; procure; have 
 for my lot. — This Gothic verb 
 answers, in its direct and se- 
 condary significations, exactly 
 to the Latin capio ; and Allan 
 Ramsay was right in his defi- 
 nition of it. It is quite a dif- 
 ferent word from fa\ an .ab- 
 breviation of 'fall, or befall ; 
 and is the principal root io 
 FANGKX, to fang, take, or lay 
 hold of. 
 
 25. Fay, faith. 
 Mold, mould ; earth. 
 Mat, mote ; might. 
 Maun, must. 
 
 Melt, mix. 
 
 El, an elf. This term, in the 
 Welch, signifies what has in it- 
 self the power of motion ; a mo- 
 ving principle ; an intelligence ; 
 a spirit ; an angel. In the He- 
 brew, it bears the same import. 
 
 26. Minted, attempted ; meant ; 
 shewed a mind, or intention to. 
 The original is : 
 
 " Hand mindte licnde forst — og 
 anden gang;— 
 Hun giordis i hiortct sa vee : 
 
 II
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 ;><i) 
 
 End blef hand den Icdiste diefvcl 
 
 Mand kundc med oyen see, 
 Der hand vilde minde den <redie 
 gang," &c. 
 
 Syth, tide ; time. 
 Kyth, appear. 
 
 28. Stound, hour ; time ; mo- 
 ment. 
 
 29. Merry, (old Teut. mert^,) fa- 
 mous ; renowned ; answering, 
 in its etymological meaning, 
 exactly to the Latin maclus. 
 Hence merry-men, as the ad- 
 dress of a chief to his follow- 
 ers ; meaning not men of mirth, 
 
 but of renown. The term is 
 found ill its original sense in 
 the Gatjl. mar, and the Welsh 
 mawr, great ; and in the oldest 
 Teut. Romances, mar, mer, and 
 mere, have sometimes the same 
 signification. 
 
 31. Mends, amends ; recompence. 
 
 3,'? . Maik, match ; peer ; equal. 
 
 Propine, pledge ; gift. 
 
 35. oe, an island of the second 
 magnitude ; an island of the 
 
 first magnitude being called a 
 land, aud one of the third mag- 
 nitude a holm. 
 
 36. Cour\l, rccoTer'd.
 
 376 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 THE 
 
 GHAIST'S WARNING. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH K^MPE VISER, p. 721. 
 
 By the permission of Mr Jamiescn, this ballad is added from the 
 same curious Collection. It contains some passages of great 
 pathos. 
 
 Svend Dyriug hand rider sig op under oi, 
 
 (Varejeg stiver ung) 
 Verfwste hand sig sau ven en mofi. 
 
 (Mig lytter udi lunden at ridS,) &C, 
 
 Child Dyring has ridden him up under 6e,» 
 
 (And O gin I were youvg !) 
 There wedded be him sae fair + a may. 
 
 (T the greentcood it lists me to ride.) 
 
 * " Under 6e." — The original expression has been preserved 
 here and elsewhere, because no other could be found to supply 
 its place. There is just as much meaning in it in the translation 
 as in the original ; but it is a standard Danish ballad phrase, and 
 as such, it is hoped, will be allowed to pass. 
 
 + " ) air." — The Dan. and Swed. ven, vcen, or venn^, and the 
 Gae> bdn, in the oblique cases bhan (v&n,) is the origin of the 
 Scottish bonny ) which has so much puzzled all the etymologists.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 377 
 
 Thegither they liv'd for seven lang year, 
 
 (And 0,<^c.) 
 And they seven bairns hae gotten in fere. 
 
 (1' the greenwood, <^c.) 
 
 Sae Death's come there intill that stead. 
 And that winsome lily Hower is dead. 
 
 That swain be has ridden him up under oe, 
 And syne he has married anither may. 
 
 He's married a may, and he's feisen her hame j 
 But she was a grim and a laidly dame. 
 
 When into the castell court drave she, 
 
 The seven bairns stuid wi' the tear in their ee. 
 
 The bairns they stood wi' dule and dout: 
 
 Nor ale nor mead to the bairnies she gave s 
 •* But hunger and hate frae me ye's have." 
 
 She took frae them the bowster blac, 
 
 And said, " Ye sail ligg i' the bare strae !" 
 
 She took frae them the groff wax light ; 
 Says, " -ovi ye sail ligg i' the mirk a' night I" 
 
 'Twas lang i' the night, and the bairnies grat : 
 Their mither she under the raools heard that ; 
 
 That heard the wife under the eard that lay : 
 •* Forsooth maun I to my bairnies gae !" 
 
 That wife can stand up at our lords knee, 
 And " may I gang and my bairnies see?"
 
 878 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 Sbe prigged sae sair, and she prigged sae lang, 
 That lie at the last gae her leave to gang. 
 
 " And thou sail come back whan the cock does craw> 
 For thou nae langer sail bide awa." 
 
 Wi' her banes sae stark, a bowt she gae ; 
 She's riven baith wa' and marble gray.* 
 
 Whan near to the dwaliing she can gang, 
 The dogs they wow'd till the lift it rang. 
 
 Whan she came till the castell yett, 
 Her eldest dochter stood thereat. 
 
 " Why stand ye here, dear docliter mine ? 
 How ar6 sma brithers and sisters thine ?" 
 
 " For sooth ye're a woman baith fair and fine j 
 But ye are nae dear mither of mine." 
 
 " Och ! how should I be fine or fair ? 
 
 My cheek it is pale, and the ground's my lair.'' 
 
 *' My mither was white, wi' lire sae red ; 
 . But thou art wan, and liker ane death" 
 
 " Och ! how should I be white and red, 
 Sae lang as I've been cauld and dead ?" 
 
 * The original of this and the following stanza is very fine 
 
 " Hun skod op sini uiodig^ been, 
 
 Der revenede muur og graa marmorsteen." 
 
 " Der hun gik igenncm den by, 
 
 De hund^ de tude saa hiijt i sky."
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 379 
 
 When she cam till the chalmer in, 
 Down the bairns' cheeks the tears did rin. 
 
 She bnskit the tane, and she brush'd it there ; 
 She kem'd and plaited the tither's hair* 
 
 The thirden she doodl'd upon her knee. 
 And the fourthen * » * » * 
 
 She's ta'en the fiften upon her lap. 
 And sweetly ***»•* 
 
 Till her eldest dochter syne said she, 
 
 " Ye bid Child Dyring come here tome." 
 
 Whan he cam till the chalmer in, 
 Wi' angry mood she said to him : 
 
 " I left you routh o' ale and bread ; 
 My bairnies quail for hunger and need. 
 
 " I left ahind me braw bowsters blae ; 
 My bairnies are liggin i' the bare strae> 
 
 " I left ye sae mony a groff wax light ; 
 My bairnies ligg i' the mark a' night. 
 
 " Gin aft I come back to visit thee, 
 Wae, dowy, and weary thy luck shall be." 
 
 Up spak little Kirstin in bed that laye 
 " To thy bairnies I'll do the best I may." 
 
 Ay when they heard the dog nir and bell, 
 Sae gae they the bairnies bread and ale.
 
 380 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 Ay whan the do^ did wow, in haste 
 
 They crossed and sain'd themsella frae the ghaist. 
 
 Ay whan the little dog yowl'd wi' fear, 
 
 (j4nd O gin I were yung !) 
 They shook at the tliou^ht that the dead was near* 
 
 (V the greenwood it lints me to ride,) 
 or, 
 
 (Fair words sae mony a heart they cheer.) 
 
 I 
 
 
 f
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 S81 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 St. I . Mflj/, maid. 
 Lists, pleases. 
 2 Stead, place. 
 
 3. Bairns, rbildren. 
 In fere, together. 
 
 Winsome, engaging; giving joy, 
 (old Teut.) 
 
 4. Syne, then. 
 
 5. Fessen, fetched ; brought. 
 
 6. Drave, drove. 
 
 7. Ihile, sorrow. 
 Dout, fear. 
 
 9. BoKster, bolster ; CHshion ; bed. 
 Blae, blue. 
 
 Slrae, straw. 
 
 10. Groff, great ; large in girt. 
 Mark, inirk ; dark. 
 
 11 hang V the night, \a,te. 
 
 Grat, wept. 
 
 Mools, mould ; earth. 
 
 12. Eard, earth. 
 
 Gae, go. 
 
 14. Prigged, entreated earnestly 
 and perseveringly. 
 
 Gang, go. 
 
 15. Craw, crow- 
 
 16. Banes, bones. 
 Stark, strong. 
 
 Bowt, bolt; clastic spring, like 
 that of a bolt or arrow from a 
 how. 
 
 Riven, split asunder. 
 
 lVa\ wall. 
 
 n. Wow'd, howled. 
 
 Lift) sky ; firmament ; air. 
 
 IS. Fc^, gate. 
 19. Sma, small. 
 S2. Lire, complexion. 
 
 23. Cald, cold. 
 
 24. Till, to. 
 Rin, run. 
 
 25. liuskit, dressed. 
 Kem'd, combed. 
 Tither, the other. 
 
 28. Roulh. plenty. 
 Quaj7, are quelled; die. 
 'Ntfd, want. 
 
 29. Ahind, behind. 
 Br aw, brave ; fine. 
 .31 Dow)j, sorrowful. 
 
 33. Nirr, snarl. 
 Bell, bark. 
 
 34. Sained, blessed ; literally, 
 signed nith the sign of the 
 cross. Hefore the introduc- 
 tion of Christianity, Hiines 
 were used in saining, as a spell 
 against the power of enchant- 
 ment :ind evil genii. 
 
 Ghaist) ghost.
 
 
 382 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 Note VII. 
 Up spoke the moody Elfin King, 
 
 Who woil'd within the hill. — St. XII. p. 160. 
 
 In a long dissertation upon the Fairy superstition, publish- 
 ed in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, the most valuable 
 part of which was supplied by my learned and indefatigable 
 friend Dr John Leyden, most of the circumstances are collect- 
 ed which can throw light upon the popular belief which even 
 yet prevails respecting them in Scotland, Dr Grahame, au- 
 thor of an entertaining work upon the Scenery of the Perth- 
 shire Highlands, already frequently quoted, has recorded, with 
 great accuracy, the peculiar tenets held by the Highlanders on 
 this topic, in the vicinity of Loch-Katrine. The learned au- 
 thor is inclined to deduce the whole mythology from the Dru- 
 idical system, — an opinion to which there are many objec- 
 tions. 
 
 '* The Daoine Shi', or Men of Peace of the Highlanders, 
 though not absolutely malevolent, are believed to be a peevish, 
 repining race of beings, who, possessing themselves but a scan- 
 ty portion of happiness, are supposed to envy mankind their 
 more complete and substantial enjoyment. They are suppo- 
 sed to enjoy, in their subterraneous recesses, a sort of shadowy 
 happiness, — a tinsel grandeur; which, however, they would 
 willingly exchange for the more solid joys of mortality. 
 
 " They are believed to inhabit certain round grassy emi- 
 nences, where they celebrate their nocturnal festivities by the
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 383 
 
 »ight of the moon. About a mile beyond tlie source oC tli£ 
 Forth, above Lochcon, there is a place called Coirshi'an, or 
 the Cove of the Men of Peace, whicli is still supposed to be a 
 favourite place of their residence. In the neighbourhood, are 
 to be seen many round conical eminences; particularly one, 
 near the head of the lake, by the skirts of which many are still 
 afraid to pass after sunset. It is believed, that if, on Hallow- 
 eve, any person, alone, goes round one of these hills nine times, 
 towards the left hand (sinistrorsum), a door shall open, by 
 which he shall be admitted into their subterraneous abodes. 
 Many, it is said, of mortal race have been entertained in 
 their secret recesses. There they have been received into the 
 most splendid apartments, and regaled with the most sump- 
 tuous banquets, and delicious wines. Their females surpass 
 the daughters of men in beauty. The seemingly happy inha- 
 bitants pass their time in festivity, and, in dancing to notes 
 of the softest music. Biit unhappy is the mortal who joins in 
 their joys, or ventures to partake of their dainties. By this in- 
 <Uilgence, he forfeits for ever the society of men, and is bound 
 down irrevocably to the condition of a Shi'ich, or man of 
 peace. 
 
 *' A woman, as is reported in the Highland tradition, was 
 conveyed, in days of yore, into the secret recesses of the men 
 of peace. There she was recognised by one who had former- 
 ly been an ordinal^ mortal, but who had, by some fatality, be- 
 come associated with the Shi'ichs. This acquaintance, still 
 retaining some portion of human benevolence, warned her ol'
 
 384 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH, 
 
 lier danger, and counselled her, as she valued her liberty, to 
 abstain from eating and drinking with them, for a certain space 
 V of time. She complied with the counsel of her friend ; and 
 when the period assigned was elapsed, she found herself again 
 upon earth, restored to the society of mortals. It is added, 
 that when she examined the viands which had been presented 
 to her, and which had appeared so tempting to the eye, they 
 were found, now that the enchantment was removed, to con- 
 sist only of the refuse of the earth." — P. 107 — 111. 
 
 Note VIIL 
 Why soutids yon stroke on beech and oak. 
 
 Our moonlight circlets screen ? 
 Or who comes here to chace the deer. 
 Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? — St. XII. p. 161. 
 It has been already observed, that fairies, if not positively 
 malevolent, are capricious, and easily offended. They are, like 
 other proprietors of forests, peculiarly jealous of their rights 
 of vert and venison, as appears from the cause of offence ta- 
 ken, in the original Danish ballad. This jealousy was also an 
 attribute of the northern Duergar, or dwarfs ; to many of 
 whose distinctions the fairies seem to have succeeded, if, in- 
 deed, they are not the same class of beings. In the huge me- 
 trical record of German chivalry, entitled the Helden-Buch, 
 Sir Hiklebrand, and the other heroes of whom it treats, are 
 engaged in one of their most desperate adventures, from a 
 rash violation of the rose-garden of an Elfin, or Dwarf King,
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 385 
 
 There are yet traces of a belief in this worst and most malici- 
 ous order of Fairies among the Border Wilds. Dr Leyden has 
 introduced such a dwarf nito his ballad entitled the Cout of 
 Keeldar, and has not forgot his characteristic detestation of 
 the chace. 
 
 " The third blast that young Keeldar blew. 
 
 Still stood the limber reru. 
 And a wee man, of swarthy hue, 
 
 Upstarted bj a cairn. 
 
 '* His russet weeds were brown as heath. 
 
 That clothes the upland fell; 
 And the hair of his head wa!> frizzly red 
 
 As the purple heather-bell. 
 
 *' An urchin, clad in prickles red, 
 
 Clun^ cow'riiig to bis arm ; 
 The hounds they howl'd, and backward fled. 
 
 As struck by fairy cbarm. 
 
 " Why rises high the stag-hound's cry, 
 
 Wiiere stag hound ne'er should be ? 
 Wbj wakes that horn the silent morn, 
 
 Without the leave of mef 
 
 •* Brown dwarf, that o'er the niuirland strays, 
 
 Thy name to Keeldar tell !' — 
 '•The iJrown Alan of tiie iMuirs, who stays 
 
 Beneath the heather-bell. 
 
 " 'Tis sweet beneath the heather-bell 
 
 To live ia autumn brow n ; 
 And swict ti> cai tlie lav rocks swell, 
 
 Far, tar from tower and town.
 
 386 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 " But woe betide the shrilling horn. 
 
 The chace's surly cheer ! 
 And ever that hunter is forlorn, 
 
 Whom 6rst at morn I hear." 
 
 The poetical picture here given of the Duergar corresponds 
 exactly with the following Northumbrian legend, with which 
 I was lately favoured by my learned and kind friend, Mr Sur- 
 tees of Mainsforth, who has bestowed indefatigable labour upon 
 the antiquities of the English border counties. The subject is 
 in itself so curious, that the length of the note will, I hope, be 
 pardoned. 
 
 *' I have only one record to offer of the appearance of our 
 Northumbrian Duergar. My narratrix is Elizabeth Cockburn, 
 an old wife of Offerton, in this county, whose credit, in a ca'se 
 of this kind, will not, I hope, be much impeached, when I add, 
 that she is, by her dull neighbours, supposed to be occasionally 
 r insane, but, by herself, to be at those times endowed with a fa^ 
 culty of seeing visions, and spectral appearances, which shun 
 the common ken. 
 
 " In the year before the great rebellion, two young men from 
 Newcastle were sporting on^the high moors above Elsdon, and 
 after pursuing their game several hours, sat down to dine, in a 
 green glen, near one of the mountain streams. After their re- 
 past, the younger lad ran to the brook for water, and after 
 stooping to drink, was surprised, on lifting his head again, by 
 the appearance of a brown dwarf, who stood on a crag cover- 
 ed with brackens, across the burn. This extraordinary per- 
 il
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 38? 
 
 sonage did not appear to be above half the stature of a cotn- 
 •nion man, but was uncommonly stout and broad built, having 
 the appearance of vast strengtl^ His dress was entirely brown, 
 the coloiu- of the brackens, and his head covered with frizzled 
 xed hair. His countenance was expressive of the most savage 
 ferocity, and his eyes glared like a bull. It seems, he address- 
 ed the young man first, threatening him with his vengeance, 
 for having trespassed on his tleniesnes, and asking him, if he 
 knew in whose presence he stood ? The youth replied, that 
 he now supposed him to be the lord of the moors ; that he of- 
 fended through ignorance ; and offered to bring him the game 
 he had killed. The dwarf was a little mollified by this sub- 
 mission, but remarked, that nothing could be more offensive 
 to him than such an otTer, as he considered the wild animals 
 as his subjects, and never failed to avenge their destruction. 
 He condescended further to inform him, that he was, like liim- 
 self, mortal, though of yeai's far exceeding the lot of common 
 humanity; and (what I should not have had an idea of) that 
 he hoped for salvation. He never, he added, fed on any tiling 
 that had life, but lived, in the summer, on whortleberries, and 
 in winter, on nuts and apples, of which he had great store in 
 the woods. Finally, he invited his new acquaintance to ac- 
 company him home, and partake his hospitality ; an offer 
 which the youtli was on the point of accepting, and was just 
 going to spring across the biook, (whicii if he had done, says 
 Elizabeth, the dwarf would certainly have torn him in pieces,) 
 when his foot was arrested by the voice of his companion, 
 
 2r
 
 SC8 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 who thought he tarried long; and on looking round agaia, 
 " the wee brown man was fled," The story adds, that he 
 was imprudent enough to slight the admonition, and to sport 
 over the moors, on his way homewards ; but, soon after hi* 
 return, he fell into a lingering disorder, and died within the 
 year." 
 
 Note IX. 
 Or who may dare on wold to wear 
 
 The fairy's fatal green. — St. XII. p. 161. 
 As the Daoine Shi', or Men of Peace, wore green habits, 
 they were supposed to take offence when any mortals ven- 
 tured to assume their favourite colour. Indeed, from some 
 reason, which has been, perhaps, originally a general supersti- 
 tion, green is held in Scotland to be unlucky to particular 
 tribes and counties. The Caithness men, who hold this be- 
 lief, allege, as a reason, that their bands wore that colour when 
 they were cut off at the battle of Flodden ; and for the same 
 reason they avoid crossing the Ord on a Monday, being the 
 day of the week on which their ill-omened array set fortli. 
 Green is also disliked by those of the name of Ogilvy ; but 
 more especially is it held fatal to the whole clan of Grahame, 
 It is remembered of an aged gentleman of that name, that 
 when his horse fell in a fox-chase, he accounted for it at once, 
 by observing, that the whip-cord attached to his lash was of 
 this unlucky colour.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 389 
 
 Note X. 
 For thou wert christened man. — St. XII. p. 161. 
 The Elves were supposed greatly to envy the privileges ac- 
 quired by Christian initiation, and they gave to those mortals 
 who had fallen into their power, a certain precedence, found- 
 ed upon this advantageous distinction. Tamlane, in the old 
 ballad, describes his own rank in the fairy procession : — 
 
 " For I ride on a milk-white steed, 
 
 And aye nearest the town ; 
 Because I was a clirisiened knight, 
 hey gie me that renown." 
 
 I presume, that, in the Danish ballad, the obstinacy of the 
 " Weiest Elf," who would not flee for cross or sign, is to be 
 derived from the circumstance of his having been " christen'd 
 man." 
 
 How eager the elves were to obtain for their offspring the 
 prerogatives of Christianity, will be proved by the following 
 story : " In the district called Haga, in Iceland, dwelt a noble- 
 man called Sigward Forster, who had an intrigue with one of 
 the subterranean females. The elf became pregnant, and ex- 
 acted from her lover a firm promise that he would procure the 
 baptism of the infant. At the appointed time, the mother 
 came to the church-yard, on the wall of which she placed a 
 golden cup, and a stole for the priest, agreeable to the custom 
 of making an offering at baptism. She then stood a little 
 apart. When the prieit left the church, he enquired tlic
 
 S90 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 meaning of wliat he saw, and demanded of Sigward, if he 
 avowed himself the father of the diild. Biit Sigward, ashamed 
 of the connection, denied the paternity. He was then interro- 
 gated if he desired that the child should be baptized; but 
 this also he answered in the negative, lest, by such request, he 
 should admit himself to be the father. On which the child 
 was left untouched, and unbaptized. Whereupon the mother, 
 in extreme wrath, snatched up the infant and the cup, and re- 
 tired, leaving the priestly cope, of which fragments are still in 
 presentation. But this female denounced and imposed upon 
 Sigward, and his posterity, to the ninth generation, a singular 
 disease, with which many of his descendants are afflicted at 
 this day." Thus wrote Einar Gudmund, pastor of the parish 
 of Garpsdale, in Iceland, a man profoundly versed in learning, 
 from whose manuscript it was extracted by the learned Top- 
 £xas.-^Historia Hrolfi Krakiiy Hufn'nCi 1715, prefatio. 
 
 Note Xr. 
 And gaily shines thefairi/ land ; 
 
 But all is glistening shou: — St. XV. p. 16". 
 No fact respecting Fairy-land seems to be better ascertain- 
 ed than the fantastic and illusory nature of their apparent 
 pleasure and splendour. It has been already noticed, in the ^, 
 
 former quotations from DrGrahame's entertaining volume, and 
 may be confirmed by the following Highland tradition. " A 
 woman, whose new-born child liad been conveyed by them in- 
 to their secret abodes, was also carrie<l thither liersclf, to re-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 391 
 
 Main, however, only until she should suckle her infant. She, 
 one day, during this period, ohserved the Shi'ichs busily em- 
 ployed in mixing various ingredients in a boiling cauldron; 
 and, as soon as the composition was prepared, she remarked 
 tliat they all carefully anointed their eyes with it, laying the 
 remainder aside for future use. In a moment when they 
 were all absent, she also attempted to anoint her eyes with 
 the precious drug, but had time to apply it to one eye only, 
 when the Daome Shi returned. But with that eye she was 
 henceforth enabled to see every thing as it really passed in 
 their secret abodes :— she saw every object, not as she hither- 
 to had done, in deceptive splendour and elegance, but in its 
 genuine colours and form. The gaudy ornaments of the apart- 
 ment were reduced to the walls of a gloomy cavern. Soon 
 after, having discharged her office, she was dismissed to her 
 own home. Still, however, she retained the faculty of seeing, 
 with her medicated eye, every thing that v/as done, any where 
 in her presence, by the deceptive art of the order. One day, 
 amidst a throng of people, she chanced to observe the S/n'icfi, 
 or man of peace, in wliose possession she had left her child ; 
 though to every other eye invisible. Prompted by maternal 
 affection, she inadvertently accosted him, and began to en- 
 quire after the welfare of her child. Tire man of peace, as- 
 tonished at being thus recognised by one of mortal race, dc- 
 uiandeil how she had been enabled to discover him. Awed 
 by the terrible frown of his countenance, she acknowledgetl
 
 1'' 
 
 1 
 
 3*2 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 what she had done. He spat in her eye, and extinguished it 
 for ever." — Grahame's Sketches, p. 116 — 118. It is very 
 remarkable, that this story, translated by Dr Grahame from 
 popular Gaelic tradition, is to be found in the Otia Impcrialia 
 of Gervase of Tilbury. A work of great interest might be 
 compiled upon the origin of popular fiction, and the transmis- 
 sion of similar tales from age to age, and from country to coun- 
 try. The mythology of one period would then appear to pass 
 into the romance of the next century, and that into the nur- 
 sery-tale of the subsequent ages. Such an investigation, while 
 it went greatly to diminish our ideas of the richness of human 
 invention, would also shew, that these fictions, however wild 
 and childish, possess such charms for the populace, as enable 
 them to penetrate into countries unconnected by manners and 
 language, and having no apparent intercourse, to afford the 
 means of transmission. It would carry me far beyond ray 
 bounds, to produce instances of this community of fable, 
 among nations who never borrowed from each other any thing 
 intrinsically worth learning. Indeed the wide diffusion of po- 
 pular fictions may be compared to the facility with which 
 straws and feathers are dispersed abroad by the wind, while 
 valuable metals, cannot be transported without trouble and la- 
 bour. There lives, I believe, only one gentleman, whose un- 
 limited acquaintance with this subject might enable him to do 
 it justice ; I mean my friend Mr Francis Douce, of the Bri- || 
 
 tish Museum, whose usual kindness will, I hope, pardon my 
 
 9 
 
 I
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 393 
 
 mentioning his name, while on a subject so closely connected 
 with his extensive and curious researches. 
 
 Note XII. 
 -I sunk dozen in a sinful fray. 
 
 And 'twixt life and death was snatch'd awai/y 
 To the joy less fair 1/ bozcer. 
 The subjects of Fairy Land were recruited from the regions 
 of humanity by a sort of crimping system, which extended to 
 adults as well as to infants. Many of those who were in this 
 world supposed to have discharged the debt of nature, had 
 only become denizens of the " Londe of Faery." In the beau- 
 tiful fairy Romance of Orfee and Ilcurodiis (Orpheus and Eu- 
 rydice) in the Aucliinleck MS. is the following striking enu- 
 meration of persons thus abstracted from middle earth. Mr 
 Ritson unfortunately published this romance from a copy in 
 which the following, and many other highly poetical passages, 
 do not occur : 
 
 " Then he gan biholde aboutc al, 
 
 And scighc ful liggeand within the wal, 
 
 Of folk that wer thidder y-brought, 
 
 And thought dedeand ne'ie nought ; 
 
 Some stode withouten hadde ; 
 
 And sum none armes nade ; 
 
 And sum thurch the bodi hadde wounde ; 
 
 And sum lay wode y-bounde; 
 
 And sum armed on hors sete; 
 
 And sum astrangled as thai ete ;
 
 S§* NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 And sum war in water adreynt ; 
 And sum with fire al for-schrejnt ; 
 Wives ther lay on childe bcdde ; 
 Sum dede, and sum awedde; 
 And wonder fele ther lay besides. 
 Right as thai slepe her undertides; 
 Eche was thus in this warld y-nome, 
 "With fairi thider j'-come." 
 
 Note XIII. 
 Though space and law the stag we hnd. 
 
 Who ever recked where, how, or when, 
 
 Tlie prozo ling fox was trapped and slain. — St. XXX. p, 185. 
 
 St John actually used this illustration when engaged in 
 confuting the plea of law proposed for the unfortunate Earl of 
 Strafford : " It was true, we give laws to hares and deer, be- 
 cause they are beasts of chace ; but it was never accounted 
 either cruelty or foul play, to knock foxes or wolves on the 
 head as they can be found, because they are beasts of prey* 
 In a word, the law and humanity were alike ; the one being 
 more fallacious, and the other more barbarous, than in any age 
 had been vented in such an authority." — Clarendon's His- 
 fory of the Rebellion. Oxford, 1702. fol. vol. I. p. l83. 
 
 Note XrV. 
 ■his Highland cheer, 
 
 The harden' djlesh of mountain-deer. — St. XXXI. p. t86. 
 The Scottieh Highlanders, in former times, had a concise
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 3»6 
 
 mode of cooking their venison, or rather of dispensing with 
 cooking it, which appears greatly to have surprised the French, 
 whom chance made acquainted with it. The Vidame of Char- 
 tres, when a hostage in England, during the reign of Edward 
 VI., was permitted to travel into Scotland, and penetrated as 
 far as to the remote Highlands, {au Jin fond des Sauvages.) 
 After a great hunting party, at which a most wonderful quan- 
 tity of game was destroyed, he saw these Scottish savages de- 
 vour a part of their vem'son raw, without any further prepara- 
 tion than compressing it between two battons of wood, so as 
 to force out the blood, and render it extremely hai'd. This they 
 reckoned a great delicacy; and when the Vidame partook of 
 it, his compliance with their taste rendered him extremely po- 
 pular. This curious trait of mamiers was communicated by 
 Mons. de Montmorency, a great friend of the Vidame, to Brai>- 
 tome, by whom it is recorded in Vies des Hommes Illustres 
 Discours, LXXXIX. art. 14. The process by which the raw 
 venison was rendered eatable is described very minutely in the 
 romance of Perceforest, where Estonne, a Scottish knight-er- 
 rant, having slain a deer, says to his companion Claudius : 
 " Sire, or mangerez vous et moy aussi. Voire si nous anions 
 de feu, dit Claudius. Par I'ame de mon pere, dist Estonne, 
 ie vous atourneray et cuiray a la maniere de nostre pays comme 
 pour cheualier errant. Lors tira son espee et sen vint a la 
 branche dung arbre, et y fait vng grant trou, et pm's fend al 
 branche bien deux piedz ct boute la cuisse du cerf entrcdcux.
 
 396 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 et puis prent le licol de son cheval et en lye la branche ct de- 
 
 straint si fort que le sang et les humeurs de la chair saillent 
 
 hors et demeure la chair doulce et seiche. Lors prent la chair 
 
 ct oste ius le cuir et la chaire demeure aussi blanche comme 
 
 si ce feust dung chappon. Dont dist a Claudius, Sire ie la 
 
 vous ay cuiste a la guise de mon pays, vous en pouez manger 
 
 hardyement, car ie mangeray premier. Lors met sa main a sa 
 
 selle en vng lieu quil y auoit, et tire hors sel et poudre de 
 
 poiure et gingembre, mesle ensemble, et le iecte dessus, et le 
 
 frote sus bien fort, puis le couppe a moytie, et en donne a 
 
 Claudius I'une des pieces, et puis mort en I'autre aussi sauou- 
 
 reusement quil est aduis que il an feist la pouldre voller. 
 
 Quant Claudius veit quil le mangeoit de tel goust il en print 
 
 grant fain et commence a manger tresvoulentiers, et dist a Es- 
 
 tonne : Par I'ame de moy ie ne mangeay oncquesraais de chair 
 
 atoumee de telle guise : mais doresenauant ie ne me retoume- 
 
 roye pas hors de mon chemin par auoir la cuite. Sire, dist Es- .' 
 
 tonne, quant ie suis en desers d'Escosse, dont ie suis seigneur, J 
 
 ie cheuaucheray huit iours ou quinze que ie n'entreray en chas- 
 
 tel ne en maison, et si ne verray feu ne personne viuant fors 
 
 que bestes sauuages, et de celles mangeray atournees en ceste 
 
 maniere, et mieulx me plaira que la viande de I'empereur. 
 
 Ainsi sen vont mangeant et cheuauchant iusques adonc quilz 
 
 arriuerent sur une moult belle fontaine qui estoit en vne valee. 
 
 Quant Estonne la vit il dist a Claudius, allons boire a ceste | 
 
 fontaine. Or beuuons, dist Estonne, du boire que le grant dieu
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 397 
 
 a pourueu a toutes gens, et qui me plaist mieulx que les ce- 
 ruoises d'Angleterre." — La Treselegante Hystoire du tresnoble 
 Hoy Perceforesl. Paris, 1531, fol. tome I. fol. Iv. vers. 
 
 After all, it may be doubted whether la chaire nostreCf for 
 so the French called the venison thus summarily prepared, was 
 any thing more than a mere rude kind of deer-ham.
 
 n..
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 Note I. 
 
 Nor then clainCd sovereignty his due, 
 
 While Albany, wil It feeble hand, 
 
 Held borrow' d truncheon of command.— -St. VI. p. 198. 
 There is scarcely a more disorderly period in Scottish his- 
 tory than that whicli succeeded the battle of Flodden, and oc- 
 cupied the minority of James V. Feuds of ancient standing 
 broke out like old wounds, and ever}' quarrel among the inde- 
 pendent nobility, which occurred daily, and almost hourly, gave 
 rise to fresh bloodshed. " There arose," says Pitscottie, " great 
 trouble and deadly feuds in many parts of Scotlandj both in 
 the north and west parts. The Master of Forbes, in the north, 
 slew the Laird of Meldrum under tryst, (i. e. at an agreed and 
 secured meeting :) Likewise, the Laird of Drummelzier slew 
 the Lord Fleming at the hawking; and, likewise, there was 
 
 slaughter among many other great lords," p. 121. Nor was 
 
 11
 
 400 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 the matter much mended under government of the Earl of An- 
 gus ; for though he caused the king to ride through all Scot- 
 land, " under pretence and colour of justice, to punish thief 
 and traitor, none were found greater than were in their own 
 company. And none at that time durst strive with a Doug- 
 las, nor yet with a Douglas's man, for if they did, they got the 
 worse. Therefore, none durst plainzie of no extortion, theft, 
 reifF, nor slaughter done to them by the Douglasses, or their 
 men ; in that cause they were not heard, so long as the Doug- 
 lasses had the court in guiding." — Ibid. p. 133. 
 
 Note II. 
 The Gael, of plain and river heir. 
 
 Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share. — St. VII. p. 200. 
 The ancient Highlanders verified in their practice the lines 
 of Gray : — 
 
 An iron race the mountain cliff's maintain, 
 
 Foes to the gentler genius of the plain ; 
 
 For where unwearied sinews must be found, 
 
 With side-long plough to quell the flinty ground; 
 
 To turn the torrent's swift-descending flood ; 
 
 To tame the savage, rushing from the wood ; 
 
 What wonder if, to patient valour train'd, 
 
 They guard with spirit what by strength they gain'd; 
 
 And while their rocky ramparts round they see 
 
 The rough abode of want and liberty, 
 
 (As lawless force from confldence will grow,) 
 
 Insult the plenty of the vales below i 
 
 Fragment on the Alliance of Education and Government, 
 
 So far, indeed, was a Creagh, or foray, from being held dig-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FITTH. 401 
 
 graceful, that a young chief was always expected to shew his 
 talents for command so soon as he assumed it, by leading his 
 clan on a successful enterprise of this nature, either against 
 a neighbouring sept, for which constant feuds usually furnish- 
 ed an apology, or against the Sassenach, Saxons, or Lowland- 
 ers, for which no apology was necessary. The Gael, great 
 traditional historians, never forgot that the Lowlands had, at 
 some remote period, been the property of their Celtic forefa- 
 thers, which furnished an ample vindication of all the ravages 
 that they could make on the unfortunate districts which lay 
 within their reach. Sir James Grant of Grant is in possession 
 of a letter of apology from Cameron of Lochiel, whose men 
 had committed some depredation upon a farm called Moines, 
 occupied by one of the Grants. Lochiel assures Grant, that, 
 however the mistake had happened, his instructions were pre- 
 cise, that the party should foray the province of Moray, (a 
 Lowland district,) where, as he coolly observes, " all men take 
 their prey." 
 
 Note IIL 
 I only meant 
 
 To shew the reed on which you leant. 
 
 Deeming this path you might pursue 
 
 Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. — St. XI. p. 206. 
 
 This incident, like some other passages in the poem, illus- 
 trative of the character of the ancient Gael, is not imaginary, 
 but borrowed from fact. The Higlilanders, with tlie incon-
 
 402 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 sistency of most nations in the same state, were alternately 
 capable of great exertions of generosity, and of cruel revenge 
 and perfidy. The following story I can only quote from tra- 
 dition, but with such an assurance from those by whom it was 
 communicated, as permits me little doubt of its authenticity. 
 Early in the last century, John Gunn, a noted Catheran, or 
 Highland robber, infested Inverness-shire, and levied black 
 mail up to the walls of the provincial capital. A garrison was 
 then maintained in the castle of that town, and their pay (coun- 
 try banks being unknown) was usually transmitted in specie, 
 under the guard of a small escort. It chanced that the officer 
 who commanded this little party was unexpectedly obliged to 
 halt, about thirty miles from Inverness, at a miserable inn. 
 About night-fall, a stranger, in the Highland dress, and of very 
 prepossessing appearance, entered the same house. Separate 
 accommodation being impossible, the Englishman offered the 
 newly-arrived guest a part of his supper, which was accepted 
 with reluctance. By the conversation, he found his new ac- 
 quaintance knew well all the passes of the country, which in- 
 duced him eagerly to request his company on the ensuing 
 morning. He neither disguised his business and charge, nor 
 his apprehensions of that celebrated freebooter, John Gunn. 
 The Highlander hesitated a moment, and then frankly con- 
 sented to be his guide. Forth they set in the morning j and 
 in travelling through a solitary and dreary glen, the discourse 
 again turned on John Gunn. " Would you like to see him I" 
 said the guide ; and, without waiting an answer to this alarm-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 4017 
 
 ing question, he whistled, and the Engh'sh officer, with his 
 small party, were surrounded by a body of Highlanders, whose 
 numbers put resistance out of question, and who were all well 
 armed. " Stranger," resumed the guide, *' I am that very 
 John Gunn by whom you feared to be intercepted, and not 
 without cause ; for I came to the inn last night with the ex- 
 press purpose of learning your route, that I and my followers 
 might ease you of your charge by the road. But I am incapa- 
 ble of betraying the trust you reposed in me, and having con- 
 vinced you that you were in my power, I can only dismiss you 
 unplundered and uninjured." He then gave the officer direc- 
 tions for his journey, and disappeared with his party, as sud- 
 denly as they had presented themselves. 
 
 Note IV. 
 
 On Bochastle the mouldering lines. 
 
 Where RomCf the empress of the world, 
 
 Of yore her eagle wings unfurled. — St. XH. p. 20r. 
 
 The torrent which discharges itself from Lord Vennachar, 
 the lowest and eastmost of the three lakes which form the 
 scenery adjoining to the Trosachs, sweeps through a flat and 
 extensive moor, called Bochastle. Upon a small eminence, 
 called the Dun of Bochastle, and indeed oB the plain itself, 
 are some entrenchments win'ch have been thought Roman. 
 There is adjacent to Callender, a sweet villa, the nesidence of 
 Captain Fairfoul, entitled the Roman Camp. 
 
 2p
 
 404 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 Note V. 
 
 See here, all vantageless I stand. 
 
 Armed, like thi/self, with single brand. — Sf. XII. p. 208. 
 The duellists of former times dixl not always stand upon 
 those punctilios respecting equality of arms, which are now 
 judged essential to fair combat. It is true, that in fonnal com- 
 bats in the lists, the parties were, by the judges of the field, 
 put as nearly as possible in the same circumstances. But in 
 private duel it was often otherwise. In that desperate com- 
 bat which was fought between Quelus, a minion of Henry III. 
 of France, and Antrpguet, with two seconds on each side,ironi 
 which only two persons escaped alive, Quelus complained that 
 his antagonist had over him the advantage of a poniard which 
 he used in parrying, while his left hand, which he was forced 
 to employ for the same purpose, was cruelly mangled. When 
 he charged Antraguet with this odds, " Thou hast done 
 wrong," answered he, '* to forget thy dagger at home. We 
 are here to fight, and not to settle punctilios of arms." In a 
 similar duel, however, a younger brother of the house- of Au- 
 bayne, in Angoulesme, behaved more generously on the like 
 occasion, and at once threw away his dagger when his enemy 
 challenged it as an undue advantage. But at this time hardly 
 any thing can be conceived more horridly brutal and savage, 
 than the mode in which private quarrels were conducted in 
 France. Those who were most jealous of the point of ho- 
 nour, and acquired the title ©f linffines, did not scruple to
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 405 
 
 take every advantage of strength, numbers, surprise, and arms, 
 to accomplish their revenge. The Sieur de Brantome, to whose 
 discourse on duels I am obliged for these particulars, gives the 
 following account of the death and principles of his friend, the 
 Baron de Vitaux : — 
 
 " J'ay oui conter a un Tireur d'armes, qui apprit a Millaud a 
 en tirer, lequel s'appelloit le Seigneur Jacques Ferron, de la 
 ville d'Ast, qui avoit este a moy, il fut despuis tue a Saincte- 
 Basille en Gascogne, lors que Monsieur du Mayne I'assiegea, ' 
 lui servant d'Ingenieur; ct de malheur, je I'avois addresse 
 audit Baron quelques trois mois auparavant, pour I'exercer Ji 
 tirer, bien qu'il en s9eustprou; mais il n'en fit conte : et le 
 iaissant, Millaud s'en servit, et le rend it fort adroit. Ce Seig- 
 neur Jacques done me raconta, qu'il s'estoit monte sur un 
 noyer, assez loing, pour en voir le combat, et qu'il ne vist ja- 
 mais homme y aller plus bravement, ny plus resolument, ny 
 de grace plus asseuree ny deterramee. II commenpa de mai*- 
 cher de cinquante pas vers son ennemy, relevant souvcnt ses 
 moustaches en haut d'une main ; et estant a vingt pas de son 
 ennemy, fnon plustost) il mit la main h I'espee qu'iltenoit en 
 la main, non qu'il I'eust tiree encore ; mais en marchant, il fit 
 voUer le fourreau en I'air, en le secouans, cc qui est le beau 
 de cela, et qui monstroit bien une grace de combat bien as- 
 sieurte et froide, et nullement t^ra^raire, comme il y en a qui 
 tirent leurs espees de ciuq cents pas de I'ennemy, voire de 
 uiille, comme j'en ay veu aucuns. Ainsi mourut ce brave Ba- 
 ron, le parangon de France, qu'on nommoit tel, a bien venget
 
 40G NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 ses querelles, par grandes et determin^es resolutions. II n'es- 
 toit pas seulement estim^ en France, mais en Italia, Espaigne, 
 Allemaigne, en Boulogne et Angleterre : et desiroient fort les 
 Estrangers, vennnt en France, le voir ; car je I'ay veu, tant sa 
 renommee voUoit. II estoit fort petit de corps, mais fort 
 grand de courage. Ses ennemis disoient qii'il ne tuoit pas 
 bien ses gens, que par advantages et superchsries. Certes, je 
 tiens de grands capitaines, et mesme d' Italiensj qui sont eatez 
 d'autres fois les premiers vengeurs du monde, in ogni mudoi 
 disoient-ils, qui ont tenu cette maxime, qu'une supercherie ae 
 se devoit payer que par semblable monnoye, et n'y alloit point 
 la de deshonneur." — Oeuvres de Brantome. Paris, 1787-8. 
 Tome VIII. p. 90-92. It may be necessary to inform the 
 reader, that this paragon of France was the most foul assassin 
 ofhis time, and had committed many desperate murders, chief- 
 ly by the assistance of his hired banditti ; from which it may 
 be conceived how little the point of honour of the period de- 
 served its name. I have chosen to give my heroes, who are 
 indeed of an earlier period, a stronger tincture of the spirit of 
 chivalry. 
 
 Note Vr. 
 
 Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhtt, 
 
 That on the field his targe he threw. — St. XV. p. 211. 
 
 A round target of light wood, covered with strong leather, 
 
 and studded with brass or iron, was a necessary part of a 
 
 Highlander's equipment. In charging' regular troops they re-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 46? 
 
 teived the thrust of the bayonet in this buckler, twisted it 
 aside, aftd used the broad- sword against the encumbered sol- 
 dier. In the civil war of 1743, most of the front-rank of the 
 clans were thus armed ; and Captain Grose informs us, that, 
 in 1747, the privates of the 42d regiment, then in Flanders, 
 were for the most part permitted to carry targets. — Military 
 Antiquities^ vol, I. p. 164. A person thus armed had a con- 
 siderable advantage in private fray. Among verses between 
 Swift and Sheridan, lately published by Dr Barrett, there is 
 an account of such an encounter, in which the circumstances, 
 and consequently the relative superiority of the combatants, are 
 precisely the reverse oi those in the text : 
 
 A Highlander once fought a Frenchman at Margate, 
 The i^eapuns, a rapier, a back-sword, aaU target; 
 Bri^k > oubit ur advanced as f iSt as he could, 
 But all tiis fine pushes were caught in the wood, 
 And Sawny, with 'lack-sword, >lid slash him and nick bun. 
 While t'other, enraged that he could not once prick him, 
 Cried, " Sirrah, you rascal, >ou son of a whore, 
 Me will fight you, be gar J if jou 11 come from your door." 
 
 Note VII. 
 FoVy truirCd abroad his arms to zcieldy 
 FitZ'James's blade was sword and shield. — St. XV. p. 212. 
 The use of defensive armour, and particularly of tiie buck- 
 ler or target, was general in Queen Elizabeth's time, although 
 that oi the single rapigr seems to have been occabionaily prac-
 
 408 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 tised much earlier. * Rowland Yorke, however, who betrayed 
 the fort of Zutphen to the Spaniards, for which good service 
 he was afterwards poisoned by them, is said to have been the 
 first who brought the rapier-fight into general use. Fuller, 
 speaking of the Swash-bucklers, or bullies of Queen Eliza- 
 beth's time, says, *' West Smithfield was formerly called Ruf- 
 fians' Hall, where such men usually met, casually or otherwise, 
 to try masteries with sword and buckler. More were frighten- 
 ed than hurt, more hurt than killed therewith, it being ac- 
 counted unmanly to strike beneath the knee. But since that 
 desperate traitor Rowland Yorke first introduced thrusting 
 with rapiers, sword and buckler are disused." In The Two 
 Angry Women of Abingdon, a comedy, printed in 1599, we 
 have a pathetic complaint : — " Sword and buckler fight begins 
 to grow out of use. I am sorry for it : I shall never see good 
 manhood again. If it be once gone, this poking fight of rapier 
 and dagger will come up; then a tall man, and a good sword 
 and buckler man, w ill be spitted like a cat or rabbit." But 
 the rapier had upon the continent long superseded, in private 
 duel, the use of sword and shield. The masters of the noble 
 science of defence were chiefly Italians. They made great 
 mystery of their art and mode of instruction, never suffered 
 any person to be present but the scholar who was to be taught, 
 and even examined closets, beds, and other places of possible 
 
 * See Douces Illustrations of Shakesjieare, vol, II. p. 61. 
 
 6
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 409 
 
 concealment. Their lessons often gave the most treacherous 
 advantages ; for the challenger, having the right to chuse liis 
 weapons, frequently selected some strange, unusual, and in- 
 convenient kind of arms, the use of which he practised under 
 these instructors, and thus killed at his ease his antagonist, to 
 whom it was presented for the first time on the field of bat- 
 tle. See Brantome's Discourse on Duels, and the work on 
 the same subject, *' si gentement ecrit" by the venerable Dr 
 Paris de Puteo. The Highlanders continued to use broad- 
 sword and target until disarmed after the affair of 1745-6. 
 
 NoteVIII. 
 Like mountain-cat, thai guards her young. 
 Full at Fit z- James's throat he sprung, — St. XVI. p. 2l3. 
 I have not ventured to render this duel so savagely despe- 
 rate as that of the celebrated Sir Ewan of Lochiel, chief of the 
 clan Cameron, called, from his sable complexion, Ewan Dim. 
 He was the last man in Scotland who maintained the royal 
 cause during the great civil war, and his constant incursions 
 rendered him a ver)' unpleasant neighbour to tlie republican 
 garrison at Inverlochy, now Fort William, The governor of 
 the fort detached a party of three hundred men to lay waste 
 Lochiel's possessions, and cut down his trees; but, in a sud- 
 den and desperate attack, made upon them by the chieftain, 
 with very inferior ninnbers, they were almost all cut to pieces. 
 The skirmish is detailetl in a curious memoir of Sir Ewan'«? 
 life, printed in the Appendix of Pennant's Scottish Tour.
 
 I 
 
 41« NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH, 
 
 " In this engagement, Lochiel himself had several vyoTider- 
 ful escapes. In tiie retreat of the English, one of the strong- 
 est and bravest of the officers retired behind a bush, when he 
 observed Lochiel piu'suing, and seeing him unaccompanied 
 witli any, he leaped out, and thought him his prey. They met 
 one another with equal fury. The combat was long and doubt- 
 ful : the English gentleman had by far the advantage in strength 
 and size; but Lochiel exceeding him in nimbleness and agili- 
 ty, in the end tript the sword out of his hand : they closed, 
 and wrestled, till both fell to the ground, in each other's arms. 
 The English officer got above Lochiel, and pressed him hard, 
 but stretching forth his neck, by attempting to disengage him- 
 self, Lochiel, who by this time had his hands at liberty, with 
 his left hand seized him by the collar, and jumping at his ex- 
 tended throat, he bit it with his teeth quite through, and kept 
 such a hold of his grasp, that he brought away his moutiiful : 
 this, he said, was the sweetest bite he ever had in his lifetime.^* 
 •—Vol. I. p. 375. 
 
 Note IX. 
 Ye towers ! within whose circuit dready 
 A Douglas hif his sovereign bled ; 
 And thou, O sad and fatal mound ! 
 
 That oft hast heard the dcath-axe sound ! — St. XX. p. 220. 
 Stilling was often polluted with noble blood. It is thus 
 apostrophized by J, Jonston :
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 411 
 
 Discordia tristis 
 
 Heu quoties procerum sanguine tinxit humum ! 
 Hoc uno infelix, at felix cetera, ntisquani 
 Lsetior aut coeli frons geniusve soIU 
 
 The fate of William, eighth Earl of Douglas, whom James 
 II. stabbed in Stirling Castle with his own hand, and while 
 under his royal safe-conduct, is familiar to all who read Scot- 
 tish history. Murdack, Duke of Albany, Duncan, Earl of Len- 
 nox, his father-in-law, and his two sons, Walter and Alexan- 
 der Stewart, were executed at Stirling, in 1425. They were 
 beheaded upon an eminence without the castle walls, but 
 making part of the same liill, from whence they could behold 
 their strong castle of Doune, and their extensive possessions. 
 This " heading-hill," as it was sometimes termed, bears com- 
 monly the less terrible name of Hurly-hacket, from its having 
 been the scene of a courtly amusement alluded to by Sir Da- 
 vid Lindsay, who says of the pastimes in which the young king 
 was engaged, 
 
 " Some harled liini to the Hurly-hacket ;" 
 
 which consisted in sliding, in some sort of chair it may be 
 supposed, from top to bottom of a smooth bank. The boys of 
 Edinburgh, aljout twenty years ago, used to play at the hurly- 
 hagket on the Calton-hill, using for their seat a horse's scull. 
 
 Note X. 
 The burghers hold their sports to-day. — St. XX. p. 221. 
 Every biuglj of Scotland, of tlic least note, but more espe-
 
 412 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 dally the considerable towns, had their solemn' play ,' 6if Testi- 
 va\, when feats of archery were exhibited, and prizes distribu- 
 ted to those who excelled in wrestling, hurling the bar, and 
 the other gymnastic exercises of the period. Stirh'ng, a usual 
 place of royal residence, was not likely to be deficient in pomp 
 upon such occasions, especially since James V. was very par- 
 tial to them. His ready participation in these popular amuse- 
 ments was one cause of his acquiring the title of King of the 
 Commons, or Rex Pleheiorum, as Lcsly has latinized it. The 
 usual prize to the best shooter was a silver arrow. Such a 
 one is preserved at Selkirk and at Peebles. At Dumfries, a 
 silver gun was substituted, and the contention transferred to 
 fire-arms. The ceremony, as there performed, is the subject 
 of an excellent Scottish poem, by Mr John Mayne, entitled 
 the Siller Gun, 1 808, which surpasses the efforts of Ferguson, 
 and comes near those of Burns. 
 
 Of James's attachment to archery, Pitscottie, the faithful, 
 though rude recorder of the manners of that period, has given 
 us evidence : 
 
 "In this year there came an ambassador out of England, named 
 Lord William Howard, with a bishop with him, with many other 
 gentlemen, tothe number ofthrecscore horse, which wereall able 
 men and waled (picked) men for all kinds of games and pastimes, 
 shooting, louping, running, wrestling, and casting of the stone, 
 but they were well 'sayed (essayed or tried) ere they past out 
 of Scotland, and that by their own provocation ; but ever they 
 tint : till at last, the queen of Scotland, the king's mother, fa-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 413 
 
 voured the English-men, because she was the king of Eng- 
 land's sister ; and therefore she took an enterprise of arcfiery 
 upon the English-mens hands, contrary her son the king, and 
 any six in Scotland that he would wale, either gentlemen or 
 yeomen, that the English-men should shoot against them, ei- 
 ther at pricks, revers, or buts, as the Scots pleased- 
 
 " The king hearing this of his mother, was content, and gart 
 her pawn a hundred crowns, and a tun of wine upon the Eng- 
 lish-mens hands ; and he incontinent laid down as much for 
 the Scottish-men. Tlie field and ground was chosen in St An- 
 drew's, and three landed men and three yeomen chosen to 
 shoot against the English-men, to wit, David Wemyss of that 
 ilk, David Arnott of that ilk, and Mr John Wedderburn, vicar 
 of Dundee ; the yeomen, Jolm Thomson, in Leith, Steven 
 Taburner, with a piper, called Alexander Bailie ; they shot very 
 near, and warred (worsted) the English-men of the enterprise, 
 and wan the hundred crowns and the tun of wine, which made 
 the king very merry, that his men wan the victory." — P. Hf. 
 
 Note*XI. 
 ■liobin Hood.— St. XXII. p. 224. 
 
 The exhibition of this renowned outlaw and his band was 
 a favourite frolic at such festivals as we are describing. This 
 sport, in which kings did not disdain to be actors, was prohi- 
 bited in Scotland upon the Reformation, by a statute of the 6th 
 parliament of Queen Mary, c. Gl, A. D. 1556^ which ordered, 
 under heavy penalties, that " na manner of person be ■chosen
 
 il4 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 Robert Hude, nor little John, Abbot of Unreason, (Jueen of 
 May, nor otherwise." But, in 1561, " the rascal multitude," 
 says John Knox, " were stirred up to make a Robin Hude, 
 whilk enormity was of mony years left and damned by statute 
 and act of parliament ; yet would they not be forbidden." Ac- 
 cordingly they raised a very serious tumult, and at length 
 made prisoners the magistrates, who endeavoured to suppress 
 it, and would not release them till they extorted a formal pro- 
 mise that no one should be punished for his share of the 
 disturbance. It would seem, from the <;omplaints of the Gene- 
 ral Assembly of the kirk, that these prophanc festivities were 
 continued down to 15<»2.* Bold Robin was, to say the least, 
 equally successful in maintaining his ground against the re- 
 formed clergy of England ; for the simple and evangelical La- 
 timer complains of coming to a country church, where the 
 people refused to hear him, because it was Robin Hood's day ; 
 and his mitre and rochet were fain to give way to the village 
 pastime. Much curious information on tiiis subject may be 
 found in the Preliminary Dissertation to the late Mr Ritson's 
 edition of the songs respecting this memorable outlaw. The 
 game of Robin Hood was usually acted in May ; and he was 
 associated with the morricc-dancers, on whom so much illus- 
 tration has been bestowed by the commentators on Shake- 
 speare. A verj' lively picture of these festivities, containing 
 a great deal of curious information on the subject of the 
 private life and amusements of our ancestors, vas thrown 
 
 * Book of (he Universal Kirk, p. 4l4; 
 
 1 
 
 4
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. M5 
 
 by the late ingenious Mr Strutt, into his romance entitled 
 Queen-hoo Hall ; published after his death, in 1808. 
 
 Note XII. 
 Indifferent aS to archer zoight. 
 The Monarch gave the arrow bright. — St. XXII. p. 225. 
 
 The Douglas of the poem is an imaginary person, a supposed 
 uncle of the Earl of Angus. But the king's behaviour during 
 an unexpected interview with the Laird of Kilspindie, one of 
 the banished Douglasses, under circiunstances similar to those 
 in the text, is imitated from a real story told by Hume of Gods- 
 eroft. I would have availed myself more fully of the simple 
 and aiFecting circumstances of the old history, had they not 
 been already woven into a pathetic ballad by my friend Mr 
 Finlay. * 
 
 " His (the king's) implacability (towards the family of Doug- 
 las) did also appear in liis carriage towards Archibald of Kil- 
 spindy, whom he, when he was a child, loved singularly well 
 for his ability of body, and was wont to call him his Gray- 
 Steill.f Archibald being banished into England, could not 
 well comport with the humour of that nation, which he thought 
 to be too proud, and that they liad too high a conceit of 
 
 ^ . * See Scottish Historical and Komantic Ballads. Glasgow, 
 1808, vol 11. p 117. 
 -^ A ch.nmpion of popular romance. Sec Et<lis's Rvmcttcei; 
 vol. III. 
 
 11
 
 41C NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 themselveSj joined with a contempt and despising of all other3. 
 Wherefore, being wearied of tliat life, and remembering the 
 king's favour of old towards him, he determined to try the 
 king's mercifulness and clemency. So he comes into Scot- 
 land, and taking occasion of the king's hunting in the park at 
 Stirling, he casts himself to be in his way, as he was coming 
 home to the castle. So soon as the king saw him afar oflf^ ere 
 he came near, he guessed it was he, and said to one of his 
 courtiers, yonder is my Gray Steill, Archibald of Kilspindy, if 
 he be alive. The other answered, that it could not be he, and 
 that he durst not come into the king's presence. The king 
 approaching, he fell upon his knees and craved pardon, and 
 promised from thence forward to abstain from meddling in 
 public affairs, and to lead a quiet ami private life. The king 
 went by, witliout giving him any answer, and trotted a good 
 round pace up the hill. Kilspindy followed, and, though he 
 wore on him a secret, or shirt of mail, for his particular ene- 
 mies, was as soon at the castle-gate as the king. There he 
 sat him down upoh a stone without, and entreated some of 
 the king's servants for a cup of drink, being weary and thir- 
 sty ; but they, -fearing the king's displeasure, durst give l)im 
 none. When the king was set at his dinner, he asked what 
 he had done, what he had said, and whither he had gone ? It 
 was told him that he had desired a cup of drink, and had got- 
 ten none. The king reproved them very sharply for their dis- 
 courtesy, and told them, that if he had not taken an oath 
 that no Douglas should ever serve him, he would have receiv-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 417 
 
 ed him into his service, for he had seen him some time a man 
 of great abihty. Then he sent him word to go to Leith, 
 and expect his further pleasure. Then some kinsman of 
 David Falconer, the canonier, that was slain at Tantallon, 
 began to quarrel with Archibald about the matter, wherewith 
 the king shewed himself not well pleased when he heard of it. 
 Then he commanded him to go to France for a certain space, 
 till he heard further from him. And so he did, and died 
 shortly after. This gave occasion to the king of England 
 (Henry VIII.) to blame his nephew, alleging the old saying. 
 That a king's face should give grace. For this Archibald, (what- 
 soever were Angus's or Sir George's fault) had not been prin- 
 cipal actor of any thing, nor no counsellor or stirrer up, but 
 only a follower of his friends, and that noways cruelly dis- 
 posed.*' — Hume of Godscroft, II. 107. 
 
 Note XIII. 
 Prize ofthetcrestling match, the king 
 To Douglas gave a golden rivg. — St. XXIII. p. 225. 
 The usual prize of a wrestling was a ram and a ring, but the 
 animal would have embarrassed my story. Thus in the Cokes 
 Tale of Garaelyn, ascribed to Chaucer : 
 
 There happed (o be there beside 
 
 TryicJ a wrastiling, 
 And therefore tliere was j-sctten 
 
 A ram and als a ring.
 
 418 NOTES TO CANTO 1-IFTH. 
 
 Again the litil geste of Robin Hood : 
 
 By a bridge was a wrastjing, 
 
 1 
 
 And there tarjed was he, 
 And there was all the best yeueD 
 
 Of all the west conntrey, 
 A full fayre game there was set up, 
 
 A white bull upy-pight, 
 A great courser with sadlc and brydle, 
 
 With gold burnished full bryght ; 
 A payre of gloves, a red gold ringe, 
 
 A pipe of wyne good fay ; 
 What man bereth him best I wis, 
 
 The prise shall bear away. 
 
 RiTsow's Robin Hood, yoU I.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 Note I. 
 
 These drew not for their fields the sword. 
 
 Like tenants of a feudal lord. 
 
 Nor ozon^d the patriarchal claim 
 
 Of chieftain in their leader's name ; 
 
 Adventurers they. St. III. p. 245. 
 
 The Scottish armies consisted chiefly of the nobih'ty and ba- 
 rons, with their vassals, who held lands under them, for mili- 
 tary service by themselves and their tenants. The patriarchal 
 influence exercised by the heads of clans in the Highlands and 
 Borders was of a diflerent oature, and sometimes at variance 
 with feudal principles. It flowed from the Palria Potestas, 
 exercised by the chieftain as representing the original father 
 of the whole name, and was often obeyed in contradiction to 
 tlie feudal superior. James V. seems first to have introdu- 
 ced, in addition to the militia furnished from these sources, 
 
 the service of a small number of mercenaries, who formed a 
 
 2 E
 
 420 NOTES JO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 body-guanl, called the Foot-Band. The satirical poet, Sir Da- 
 vid Lindsay, (or the person who wrote the prologue to his play 
 of the '* Three Estaites,") has introduced Finlay of the Foot- 
 Band, who, after much swaggering upon the stage, is at length 
 put to flight by the fool, who terrifies him by means of a sheep's 
 skull upon a pole. I have rather chosen to give them the harsh 
 features of the mercenary soldiers of the period, than of this 
 Scottish Thraso. These partook of the character of the Ad- 
 venturous Companions of Froissart, or the Condottieri o£ 
 Italy. 
 
 One of the best and liveliest traits of such manners is the 
 last will of a leader, called GefFroy Tete Noir, who having 
 been slightly wounded in a skirmish, his intemperance brought 
 on a mortal disease. When he found himself dying, he sum- 
 moned to his bed-side the adventurers whom he commanded, 
 and thus addressed them : 
 
 *' Fayre sirs, quod Geffray, I knowe well ye have alwayes 
 served and honoured me as men ought to serve their sove- 
 raygne and capitayne, and I shal be the gladder if ye will agre 
 to have to your capitayne one that is descended of my blode. 
 Behold here Aleyne Roux, my cosyn, and Peter his brother, 
 who are men of armes and of my blodc. I require you to make 
 Aleyne your capitayne, and to swere to him faythe, obey- 
 saunce, love, and loyalte, here in my presence, and also to his 
 brother : howe be it, I wyll that Aleyne have the soverayne 
 charge. Sir, quod they, we are well content, for ye bauve 
 ryght well chosen. There all the companyons made thej-ni
 
 XOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 421 
 
 servyant to Aleyne Roiix and to Peter Lis brother. Wlian all 
 that was done, then GefFraye spake agayne, and sayd : Nowe, 
 sirs, ye hauve obeyed to my pleasure, I caone you great thanke ; 
 wlierefore, sirs, I wyll ye have parte of that ye have holpen to 
 conquere. I say unto you, that in yonder chest that ye se stande 
 yonder, therin is to the some of xxx thousaude frankes, — I 
 wyll give them accordynge to my conscyence. Wyll ye all be 
 content to fulfil my testament j how saye ye ? Sir, quod they, 
 we be ryght well contente to fulfyl your commaundement. 
 Thane firste, quod he, I wyll and give to the chapell of Saynt 
 George, here in this castell, for the reparacions therof, a thou- 
 sand and five hundrede franks : and I give to my lover, who 
 hath truly served me, two thousand and five hundrede frankes : 
 and also I give to Aleyne Ronx, your newe capitayne, foure 
 thousande frankes : also to the varieties of my chambre I 
 gyve fyve hundrede frankes. To mine offj'cers I gyve a thou- 
 sand and five hundred frankes. The rest I gyve and bequeth 
 as I shall shew you. Ye be upon a thyrtie companyons all 
 of one sorte : ye ought to be bretherne, and all of one aly- 
 aunce, without debate, ryotte, or stryfc among you. All 
 this that I have shewed you ye shall f} ndc in yonder cheste. 
 I wyll that ye departe all the resydue equally and truelly bi- 
 twene you thyrtie. And if ye be nat thus contente, but that 
 the devylle wyll set debate bytwene you, than bcholdc j onda- 
 is a strong axe, breke up the coffer, and gette it who can. To 
 those words every man ansuered and said. Sir, and derc raais- 
 ter, we are and shall be all of one accorde. Sir, we have so
 
 422 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 moche loved and doiited you, that we will breke no cofFer, 
 nor breke no poynt of that ye have ordayned and commanded." 
 —Lord Berner's Frvissart. 
 
 Note II. 
 
 Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp; 
 
 Get thee an ape, and trudge the landy 
 
 The leader of a juggler band. — St. VI. p. 250. -^ 
 
 The jongleurs, or jugglers, as we learn from the elaborate 
 work of the late Mr Strutt, on the sports and pastimes of the 
 people of England, used to call in the aid of various assistants, 
 to render these performances as captivating as possible. The 
 glee-maiden was a necessary attendant. Her duty was tum- 
 bling and dancing ; and therefore the Anglo-Saxon version of 
 Saint Mark's Gospel states Herodias to have vaulted or tum- 
 bled before King Herod. In Scotland, these poor creatures 
 seem, even at a late period, to have been bonds-women to their 
 masters, as appears from a case reported by Fountainhall. 
 *' Reid the mountebank pursues Scot of Harden and his lady, 
 for stealing away from him a little girl, called the tumbling- 
 lassie, that danced upon his stage : and he claimed damages, 
 and produced a contract, whereby he bought her from her mo- 
 ther, for 30/. Scots. But we have no slaves in Scotland, and 
 mothers cannot sell their bairns ; and physicians attested, the 
 employment of tumbling would kill her; and her joints were 
 now grown stifl^ and she declined to return ; though she was 
 at least a 'prentice, and so could not run away from her master :
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 423 
 
 yet some cited Moses's Jaw, that if a servant shelter himself 
 with thee, against his master's cruelty, thou shalt surely not 
 deliver him up. The lords, renitente cancellario, assoilzied 
 Harden, on the 27th of January, (1687.)"— Fountainhall's 
 Decisions, vol. I. p 439.* 
 
 The facetious qualities of the ape soon rendered him an ac- 
 ceptable addition to the strolling band of the jongleur. Ben 
 Jonson, in his splenetic introduction to the comedy of " Bar- 
 tholomew Fair," is at pains to inform the audience '* that he 
 has ne'er a sword and buckler man in his fair, nor a juggler, 
 with a well-educated ape, to come over the chaine for the king 
 of England, and back again for the prince, and sit still on his 
 haunches for the pope and the king of Spaine." 
 
 Note III. 
 That stirring air wkich peals on high, 
 O^er Dermid's race our victory. 
 
 Strike it. St. XIV. p. 262. 
 
 There are several instances, at least in tradition, of persons 
 
 ♦ Thoujch less to my purpose, 1 cannot help noticing a circum- 
 stance respecting another of this Vir Ileids aticndants, which oc- 
 curred during James II s zeal for catholic prosely tisni, and is 
 told by Fountaiuhall, with dry Scottish irony. " January 7th, 
 1687 — Heid the niouutcbank is receivetl into the popish church, 
 and one of his hlackamores was persuad' d to accept of baptism 
 from the popish priests, and to turn Christian papist ; which was 
 a great trophy : he was called James, after the king and chan- 
 ccll»r, and the apostle James," — Ibid, p. 410.
 
 424 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 ^ much attached to particular tunes, as to require to hear 
 them on their death-betl. Such an anecdote is mentioned by 
 the late Mr Riddel of Glenriddel, in his collection of Border 
 tunes, respecting an air called the " Dandling of the Bairns," 
 for which a certain Gallovidian laird is said to have evinced 
 this strong mark of partiality. It is popularly told of a famous 
 freebooter, that he composed the tune known by the name of 
 Macpherson's Rant while under sentence of death, and played 
 it at the gallows-tree. Some spirited words have been adapt< 
 cd to it by Burns. A similar story is recounted of a Welch 
 bard, who composed and played on his death-bed the air call- 
 ed Daftjddy Gar r egg Wen. 
 
 But the most curious example is given by Brantome, of a 
 maid of honour at the court of France, entitled, Mademoiselle 
 de Limeuil. " Durant sa maladie, dont e le trespassa, jamais 
 elle ne cessa, ains causa tousjours ; car elle estoit fort grande 
 parleuse, brocardcuse, et tr^s-bien et fort a propos, et trfes-belle 
 avec cela. Quand I'heure de sa fin fut venue, elle fit venir a 
 soy son valet, (ainsi que le fiUes de la cour en ont chacune un) 
 qui s'appelloit Julien, et scavoit trcs-bien joiier du violon. 
 
 * Julien, luy dit elle, prenez vostre violon et sonnez moy tous- 
 jours jusques a ce que me voyez morte (car je m'y en vais,) la 
 d(;faite des Suisses, et le mieux que vous pourrez, et quand vous 
 serez sur le mot : ' Tout est perdu,' sonnez le par quatre ou 
 cing fois, Je plus piteusement que vous pourrez ,' ce qui fit 
 I'autre, et elle-mesme luy aidoit de la voix, et quand ce vint 
 
 * tout est perdu,' elle le r^itera par deux fois; et sc tournant
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 425 
 
 de I'autre coste dii chevet, ellc dit a ses compagnes : ' Tout 
 est perdu a ce coup, et a bon escient ;' et ainsi deceda. Voila 
 une morte joyeuse et plaisante. Je tiens ce conte de deux de 
 ses compagnes, dignes de foi, qui virent joiier ce raystere." — 
 Oeuvres de Brunlume, III. 507. 
 
 The tune to wliich this fair lady chose to make her final exit 
 was composed on the defeat of the Swiss at Marignano. Tlie 
 burden is quoted by Panurge, in Rabelais, amlconsistsof tliese 
 words, imitating the jargon of the Swiss, which is a mixture of 
 French and German : 
 
 Tout est verlorc 
 La Tintelore, 
 Tout est verlore bi Got! 
 
 Note IV. 
 Battle of BeaV an Duiiie, — St. XV. p. 863. 
 
 A skirmish actually took place at a pass thus called in the 
 Trosachs, and closed with the remarkable incident mentioned 
 in the text. It was greatly posterior in date to the reign of 
 James V. 
 
 " In this roughly- wooded island,* the country people se- 
 creted their wives and children, and thdr most valuable effects, 
 from the rapacity of Cromwell's soldiers, during tlieirinroad into 
 this country, in the time of the republic. These invaders, not 
 
 * That Qt the eastern extremity of Loch Katrine, so often men- 
 t4oucd in the text.
 
 426 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 venturing to ascend by the ladders, along the side of the lake, 
 took a more circuitous road, through the heart of the Trosachs, 
 the most frequented path at that time, which penetrates the 
 wilderness about half way between Binean and the lake, by a 
 tract called Yea-chilleach, or the Old Wife's Bog. 
 
 " In one of the defiles of this by-road, the men of the coun- 
 try at that time hung upon the rear of the invading enemy, and 
 shot one of Cromwell's men, whose grave marks the scene of 
 action, and gives name to that pass.* In revenge of this insult, 
 the soldiers resolved to plunder the island, to violate the wo- 
 men, and put the children to death. With this brutal inten- 
 tion, one of the party, more expert than the rest, swam to- 
 wards the island, to fetch the boat to his comrades, which had 
 carried the women to their asylum, and lay moored in one of 
 the creeks. His companions stood on the shore of the main 
 land, in full view of all that was to pass, waiting anxiously for 
 his return with the boat. But, just as the swimmer had got to 
 the nearest point of the island, and was laying hold of a black 
 rock, to get on shore, a heroine, who stood on the very point 
 where he meant to land, hastily snatching a dagger from below 
 her apron, with one stroke severed his head from the body. 
 His party seeing this disaster, and relinquishing all future hope 
 of revenge or conquest, made the best of their way out of their 
 perilous situation. This aniazon's great-grandson lives at Bridge 
 of Turk, wIm), besides others, attests the anecdote." — Sketch 
 
 * Beallach an duine.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 42r 
 
 of the Scenery near Cullender. Stirling, 1806, p. 20. I have 
 only to add to this account, that the heroine's name was He- 
 len Stuart. 
 
 Note V. 
 And SnozodornVs knight is Scotland's ki^g — St. XXVI. p. 283. 
 
 This discovery will probably renn'nd the reader of the beau* 
 tiful Arabian tale of II Bundocani. Yet the incident is twt 
 borrowed from that elegant story, but from Scottish tradition. 
 James V., of whom we are treating, was a monarch whose 
 good and benevolent intentions often 'tendered his romantic 
 freaks venial, if not respectable, since, from his anxious at- 
 tention to the interests of the lower and most oppressed class 
 of his subjects, he was, as we have seen, popularly termed the 
 King <^the Commons. For the purpose of seeing that justice 
 was regularly administered, and frequently fvom the less justi- 
 fiable motive of gallantry, he used to traverse the vicinage of 
 his several {ralaces in various disguises. The two excellent 
 conic songs, entitled "The Gaberlunzie Man," and ** We'll gae 
 nae mair a roving," are said to have been founded upon the 
 success of his amorous adventures when travelling in the dis- 
 guise of a beggar. The latter is perhaps the best comic ballad 
 in any language. 
 
 Another adventure, which had nearly cost James his life, is 
 said to have taken place at the village of Cramond, near Edin- 
 burgh, where he had rendered his addresses acceptable to a 
 pretty jirl ©f the lower rank. Four or five persons, whether
 
 428 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 relations or lovers of his mistress is uncertain, beset the dis- 
 guised monarch, as he returned from his rendezvous. Natu- 
 rally gallant, and an admirable master of his weapon, the king 
 took post on the high and narrow bridge over the Almond 
 river, and defended himself bravely with his sword. A pea- 
 sant, who was threshing in a neighbouring barn, came out upon 
 the noise, and, whether moved by compassion or by natural gal- 
 lantry, took the weaker side, and laid about with his flail so 
 effectually, as to disperse the assailants, well threshed, even 
 according to the letter. He then conducted the king into his 
 barn, where his guest requested a bason and towel, to remove 
 the stahas of the broil. This being procured with difficulty, 
 James employed himself in learning what was the summit of 
 his deliverer's earthly wishes, and found that they were bound- 
 ed by the desire of possessing, in property, the farm of Brae- 
 bead, upon whicli he laboured as a bondsman. The lands 
 clianced to belong to the crown ; and James directed him to 
 come to the palace of Holj'-Rood, and enquire for the Guid- 
 man (i. e. farmer) of Ballangiech, ;i name by which he was known 
 in his excursions, and which answered to // Bondocani of Ha- 
 roun Alraschid. He presented himself accordingly, and found, 
 with due astonishment, that he had saved his monarch's life, 
 and that he was to be gratified with a crown-charter of the 
 lands of Braehead, under the service of presenting an ewer, 
 bason, and towel, for the king to wash his hands, when he 
 shall happen to pass the Bridge of Cramond. This person was 
 ancestor of the Howisons of Braehead, in Mid Lothian, a re- 
 
 t 
 
 I 
 
 r 
 
 I
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 42# 
 
 spectabie family, who continue to hold the lands (now passed 
 into the female line) under the same tenure. 
 
 Another of James's frolics is thus narrated by Mr Campbell, 
 from the Statistical Account. " Being once benighted when 
 out a hunting, and separated from his attendants, he happened 
 to enter a cottage in the midst of a moor, at the foot of the 
 Ochil hills, near Alloa, where, unknown, he was kindly re- 
 ceived. In order to regale their unexpected guest, the gude- 
 many (t. c. landlord, farmer,) desired the gude-wife to fetch the 
 hen that roosted nearest the cock, which is always the plump- 
 est, for the stranger's supper. The king, highly pleased with 
 his night's lodging and hospitable entertainment, told mine 
 host, at parting, that he should be glad to return his civility, 
 and requested that the first time he came to Stirling he would 
 call at the castle, and enquire for the gude-man of Ballinguicli. 
 Donaldson, the landlord, did not fail to call on the gude-man 
 of Ballinguick, when his astonishment at finding that the king 
 had been his guest afforded no small amusement to the merry 
 monarch and his courtiers ; and, to carry on the pleasantry, he 
 was thenceforth designated by James with the title of King of 
 the Moors, which name and designation have descended from 
 father to son ever since, and they have continued in possession 
 of the Identical s^pot, the property of Mr Erskine of Mar, till 
 very lately, when this gentleman, with reluctance, turned out 
 the descendant and representative of the King of the Moors, 
 on account of his majesty's invincible indolence, and great 
 dislike to reform or innovation of any kind, ultlvough, from
 
 i 
 
 430 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 the spirited example of his neighbour tenants on the same es- 
 tate, he is convinced similar exertion would promote his ad-, 
 vantage." 
 
 The author requests permission yet farther to verify the sub- 
 ject of his poem, by an extract from the genealogical work of 
 Buchanan of Auchmar, upon Scottish surnames. 
 
 " This John Buchanan of Auchmar and Arnpryor was after- 
 wards termed King of Kippen, * upon the following Account. 
 King James V., a very sociable, debonair prince, residing at 
 Stirling, in Buchanan of Arnpryor's time, carriers were very 
 frequently passing along the common road, being near Arn- 
 pryor's house, with necessaries for the use of the king's family, 
 and he having some extraordinary occasion, ordered one of 
 these carriers to 1ea\ e his load at his house, and he would pay 
 him for it ; which the carrier refused to do, telling him he was 
 the king's carrier, and his load for his majesty's use ; to which 
 Arnpryor seemed to have small regard, compelling the carrier, 
 in the end, to leave his load ; telling him, if King James was 
 king of Scotland, he was king of Kippen, so that it was rea- 
 sonable he should share with his neighbour king in some of 
 these loads, so frequently carried tliat road. The carrier re- 
 presenting this usage, and telling the story, as Arnpryor spoke 
 it, to some of the king's servants, it came at length to his ma- 
 jesty's ears, who, shortly thereafter, with a few attendants, 
 came to visit his neighbour king, who was in the mean time at 
 
 * A small district of Perthshire.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 431 
 
 dinner. King James having sent a servant to demand access, 
 was denied the same by a tall fellow with a battle-axe, who 
 stood porter at the gate, telling, there could be no access till 
 dinner was over. This answer not satisfying the king, he sent 
 to demand access a second time ; upon which he was desired 
 by the porter to desist, otherwise he would find cause to re- 
 pent his rudeness. His majesty finding this method would not 
 do, desired the porter to tell his master that the good-man of 
 Ballageigh desired to speak with the king of Kippen. The 
 porter telling Arnpryor so much, lie, in all humble manner, 
 came and received the king, and having entertained him with 
 much sumptuousness and jollity, became so agreeable to King 
 James, that he allowed him to take so much of any provision 
 he found carrying that road as he had occasion for ; and, seeing 
 he made the first visit, desired Arnpryor in a few days to re- 
 turn him a second to Stirling, which he performed, and conti- 
 nued in very much favour with the king, always thereafter be- 
 ing termed King of Kippen while he lived." — Buchanan's 
 Misay upon the Family of Buchanan. £din. 1775, 8vo. p. 74. 
 The readers of Ariosto must give credit for the amiable fea- 
 tures with which he is represented, since he is generally con- 
 sidered as the prototype of Zerbino, the most interesting hero 
 of the Orlando Furioso.
 
 432 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 Note VI. 
 Stirling's Tower 
 
 Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims. — St. XXVIII. p. 286. 
 
 William of Worcester, who wrote about the middle of the 
 fifteenth century, calls Stirling Castle Snowdoun. Sir David 
 Lindsay bestows the same epithet upon it in his complaint of 
 the Papingo : 
 
 Adieu, fair Snawdoun, wiili thv towers Iiigh, 
 Thy chaple- royal, park, and (able round : 
 May, June, and July, would 1 dwell in thee. 
 Were f a man, to hear the birdis souud, 
 Wbilk doth agane thy royal rock rebountf. 
 
 Mr Chalmei's, in his late excellent edition of Sir David 
 Lindsay's works, has refuted the chimerical derivation of Snaw- 
 doun from snedding, or cutting. It was probably derived from 
 the romantic legend which connected Stirling with King Ar- 
 thur, to which the mention of the Round Table gives counte- 
 nance. The ring within which justs were formerly practised, 
 in the castle park, is still called the Round Table. Snawdoun 
 is the official title of one of the Scottish heralds, whose epi- 
 thets seem in all countries to have been fantastically adopted 
 from ancient history or romance. 
 
 It appears from the preceding note, that the real name by 
 which James was actually distinguished in his private excur- 
 sions, was the Goodman of Ballenguich ; derived from a steep 
 pass leading up to the Castle of Stirling, so called. But the
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH, 433 
 
 epithet would not have suited poetry, and would besides at 
 once, and prematurely, have announced the plot to many of 
 my countrymen, among whom the traditional stories above 
 mentioned are still cuiTent. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 The Author has to apologize for the inadvertent appropriation 
 of a whole line from the tragedy of Douglas, 
 
 *' I hold the first who stiikes, my foe.** 
 
 Edinbuiigu : 
 Printed by Jas. Ballantyne & Co,
 
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