The Lady of the Lake Part 14

Then, in a low and broken tone, And hurried note, the song went on. 585 Still on the Clansman, fearfully, She fixed her apprehensive eye; Then turned it on the Knight, and then Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen.

XXV

"The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set, 590 Ever sing merrily, merrily; The bows they bend, and the knives they whet, Hunters live so cheerily.

"It was a stag, a stag of ten, Bearing its branches st.u.r.dily; 595 He came stately down the glen, Ever sing hardily, hardily.

"It was there he met with a wounded doe, She was bleeding deathfully; She warned him of the toils below, 600 Oh, so faithfully, faithfully!

"He had an eye, and he could heed, Ever sing warily, warily; He had a foot, and he could speed-- Hunters watch so narrowly." 605

XXVI

Fitz-James's mind was pa.s.sion-tossed, When Ellen's hints and fears were lost; But Murdoch's shout suspicion wrought, And Blanche's song conviction brought.

Not like a stag that spies the snare, 610 But lion of the hunt aware, He waved at once his blade on high, "Disclose thy treachery, or die!"

Forth at full speed the Clansman flew, But in his race his bow he drew. 615 The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest, And thrilled in Blanche's faded breast.

Murdoch of Alpine! prove thy speed, For ne'er had Alpine's son such need!

With heart of fire, and foot of wind, 620 The fierce avenger is behind!

Fate judges of the rapid strife-- The forfeit death--the prize is life!

Thy kindred ambush lies before, Close couched upon the heathery moor; 625 Them couldst thou reach!--it may not be-- Thine ambushed kin thou ne'er shalt see, The fiery Saxon gains on thee!

Resistless speeds the deadly thrust, As lightning strikes the pine to dust; 630 With foot and hand Fitz-James must strain, Ere he can win his blade again.

Bent o'er the fallen, with falcon eye, He grimly smiled to see him die; Then slower wended back his way, 635 Where the poor maiden bleeding lay.

XXVII

She sat beneath a birchen-tree, Her elbow resting on her knee; She had withdrawn the fatal shaft, And gazed on it, and feebly laughed; 640 Her wreath of broom and feathers gray, Daggled with blood, beside her lay.

The Knight to staunch the life-stream tried-- "Stranger, it is in vain!" she cried.

"This hour of death has given me more 645 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, 650 That thou wert mine avenger born.

Seest thou this tress?--Oh! still I've worn This little tress of yellow hair, Through danger, frenzy, and despair!

It once was bright and clear as thine, 655 But blood and tears have dimmed its s.h.i.+ne.

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, 660 Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain, And thou wilt bring it me again.

I waver still--O G.o.d! more bright Let reason beam her parting light!-- Oh! by thy knighthood's honored sign, 665 And for thy life preserved by mine, When thou shalt see a darksome man, Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's Clan, With tartans broad and shadowy plume And hand of blood, and brow of gloom, 670 Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong, And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's wrong!-- They watch for thee by pa.s.s and fell....

Avoid the path.... O G.o.d!... farewell."

XXVIII

A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James; 675 Fast poured his eyes at pity's claims, And now, with mingled grief and ire, He saw the murdered maid expire.

"G.o.d, in my need, be my relief, As I wreak this on yonder Chief!" 680 A lock from Blanche's tresses fair He blended with her bridegroom's hair; The mingled braid in blood he dyed.

And placed it on his bonnet-side: "By Him whose word is truth! I swear 685 No other favor will I wear, Till this sad token I imbrue In the best blood of Roderick Dhu!

--But hark! what means yon faint halloo?

The chase is up--but they shall know, 690 The stag at bay's a dangerous foe."

Barred from the known but guarded way, Through copse and cliffs Fitz-James must stray, And oft must change his desperate track, By stream and precipice turned back. 695 Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length, From lack of food and loss of strength, He couched him in a thicket h.o.a.r, And thought his toils and perils o'er: "Of all my rash adventures past, 700 This frantic feat must prove the last!

Who e'er so mad but might have guessed, That all this Highland hornet's nest Would muster up in swarms so soon As e'er they heard of bands at Doune? 705 Like bloodhounds now they search me out-- Hark, to the whistle and the shout!-- If further through the wilds I go, I only fall upon the foe.

I'll couch me here till evening gray, 710 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; 715 Enough remains of glimmering light To guide the wanderer's steps aright, Yet not enough from far to show His figure to the watchful foe.

With cautious step, and ear awake, 720 He climbs the crag and threads the brake; And not the summer solstice, there, Tempered the midnight mountain air, But every breeze, that swept the wold, Benumbed his drenched limbs with cold. 725 In dread, in danger, and alone, Famished and chilled, through ways unknown, Tangled and steep, he journeyed on; Till, as a rock's huge point he turned, A watch-fire close before him burned. 730

x.x.x

Beside its embers red and clear, Basked, in his plaid, a mountaineer; And up he sprung with sword in hand-- "Thy name and purpose! Saxon, stand!"

"A stranger." "What dost thou require?" 735 "Rest and a guide, and food and fire.

My life's beset, my path is lost, The gale has chilled my limbs with frost."

"Art thou a friend to Roderick?" "No."

"Thou darest not call thyself a foe?" 740 "I dare! to him and all the band He brings to aid his murderous hand."

"Bold words!--but, though the beast of game The privilege of chase may claim, Though s.p.a.ce and law the stag we lend, 745 Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend, Who ever recked, where, how, or when, The prowling fox was trapped or slain?

Thus treacherous scouts--yet sure they lie, Who say thou camest a secret spy!" 750 "They do, by heaven!--Come Roderick Dhu, And of his clan the boldest two, And let me but till morning rest, I write the falsehood on their crest."

"If by the blaze I mark aright, 755 Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight."

"Then by these tokens may'st thou know Each proud oppressor's mortal foe."

"Enough, enough; sit down and share A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare." 760

x.x.xI

He gave him of his Highland cheer, The hardened flesh of mountain deer; Dry fuel on the fire he laid, And bade the Saxon share his plaid.

He tended him like welcome guest, 765 Then thus his further speech addressed: "Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu A clansman born, a kinsman true; Each word against his honor spoke, Demands of me avenging stroke; 770 Yet more--upon thy fate, 'tis said, A mighty augury is laid.

It rests with me to wind my horn-- Thou art with numbers overborne; It rests with me, here, brand to brand, 775 Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand; But, not for clan, nor kindred's cause, Will I depart from honor's laws; To a.s.sail a wearied man were shame, And stranger is a holy name; 780 Guidance and rest, food and fire, In vain he never must require.

Then rest thee here till dawn of day; Myself will guide thee on the way, O'er stock and stone, through watch and ward, 785 Till past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard, As far as Coilantogle's ford; From thence thy warrant is thy sword."

"I take thy courtesy, by heaven, As freely as 'tis n.o.bly given!" 790 "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, 795 Lay peaceful down like brothers tried, And slept until the dawning beam Purpled the mountain and the stream.

CANTO FIFTH

THE COMBAT

I

Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light, When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied, It smiles upon the dreary brow of night, And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming tide, And lights the fearful path on mountain side; 5 Fair as that beam, although the fairest far, Giving to horror grace, to danger pride, s.h.i.+ne martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star, Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow of War.

II

That early beam, so fair and sheen, 10 Was twinkling through the hazel screen, When rousing at its glimmer red, The warriors left their lowly bed, Looked out upon the dappled sky, Muttered their soldier matins by, 15 And then awaked their fire, to steal, As short and rude, their soldier meal.

That o'er, the Gael around him threw His graceful plaid of varied hue, And, true to promise, led the way, 20 By thicket green and mountain gray.

A wildering path--they winded now Along the precipice's brow, Commanding the rich scenes beneath, The windings of the Forth and Teith, 25 And all the vales between that lie, Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky; Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance Gained not the length of horseman's lance.

'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 30 a.s.sistance from the hand to gain; So tangled oft, that, bursting through, Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew-- That diamond dew, so pure and clear, It rivals all but Beauty's tear! 35