They dashed that rapid torrent through,

As on the noblest of the land And up Carhonie's hill they flew;

Fell the stern headsman's bloody hand, Still at the gallop pricked the knight,

The dungeon, block, and nameless tomb His merry-men followed as they might.

Prepare, for Douglas seeks his doom! Along thy banks, swift Teith! they ride, -But hark! what blith and jolly peal And in the race they mock thy tide;

Makes the Franciscan steeple reel? Torry and Lendrick now are past,

And see! upon the crowded street, And Deanstown lies behind them cast;

In motley groups what masquers meet! They rise, the bannered towers of Doune, Banner and pageant, pipe and drum, They sink in distant woodland soon;

And merry morrice-dancers come. Blair-Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire, I guess, by all this quaint array, They sweep. like breeze through Ochtertyre; The burghers hold their sports to-day, 10 They mark just glance and disappear

James will be there; he loves such show, The lofty brow of ancient Kier;

Where the good yeoman bends his bow, They bathe their coursers' sweltering sides, And the tough wrestler foils his foe, Dark Forth! amid thy sluggish tides,

As well as where, in proud career, And on the opposing shore take ground,

The high-born tilter shivers spear. With plash, with scramble, and with bound. I'll follow to the castle-park, Right hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth! And play my prize: king James shall mark, And soon the bulwark of the north,

If age has tamed these sinews stark,
Gray Stirling, with her towers and town, Whose force so oft, in happier days,
Upon their fleet career looked down.

His boyish wonder loved to praise."
XIX.

XXI.
As up the flinty path they strained,

The castle gates were open flung,
Sudden his steed the leader reined;
A signal to his squire he flung,

The quivering drawbridge rocked and rung, Who instant to his stirrup sprung:

And echoed loud the flinty street “Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodsman gray,

Beneath the coursers' claitering feet, Who townward holds the rocky way,

As slowly down the deep descent Of stature tall and poor array?

Fair Scotland's king and nobles went, Mark'st thou the firm, yet active stride,

While all along the crowded way With which he scales the mountain side?

Was jubilee and loud huzza. Know'st thou from whence he comes, or whom?» And ever James was bending low,

To his white jennet's saddle bow, “No, by my word;-a burley groom He seems, who in the field or chase

Doffing his cap to city dame, A baron's train would nobly grace.".

Who smiled and blushed for pride and shame. Out, out, De Vaux! can fear supply,

And well the simperer might be vain,

He chose the fairest of the train.
And jealousy, no sharper eye?
Afar, ere to the hill he drew,

Gravely he greets each city sire,

Commends each pageant's quaint attire,
That stately form and step I knew:
Like form in Scotland is not seen,

Gives to the dancers thanks aloud,
Treads not such step on Scottish green.

And smiles and nods upon the crowd, 'Tis James of Douglas, by St. Serle!

Who rend the heavens with their acclaims, The uncle of the banished earl.

“ Long live the commons' king, king James!

Behind the king thronged peer and knight, Away, away, to court, to show The near approach of dreaded foe:

And noble dame and dam-sel bright, The king must stand upon his guard:

Whose fiery steeds ill brooked the stay Douglas and he must meet prepared.”

Of the steep street and crowded way. Then right hand wheeled their steeds, and strait

But in the train you might discern They won the eastle's postern gate.

Dark lowering brow and visage stern;

There nobles mourned their pride restrained, XX.

And the mean burghers' joys disdained; The Douglas, who had bent his way

And chiefs, who, hostage for their clan, From Cambus-Kenneth's abbey gray,

Were each from home a banished man, Now, as he climbed the rocky shelf,

There thought upon their own gray tower, Held sad communion with himself:

Their waving woods, their feudal power, “ Yes! all is true my fears could frame:

And deemed themselves a shameful part
A prisoner lies the noble Græme,

Of pageant which they cursed in heart.
And fiery Roderick soon will feel
The vengeance of the royal steel.

XXII.
I, only 1, cap ward their fate,

Now, in the castle-park, drew out God grant the ransom come not late!

Their chequered bands the joyous rout. The abbess hath her promise given,

There morricers, with bell at heel, My child shall be the bride of heaven:

And blade in hand, their mazes wheel; Be pardoned one repining tear!

But chief, beside the butts, there stand For He, who gave her, knows how dear,

Bold Robin Hood!! and all his band, How excellent--but that is by,

Friar Tuck, with quarter-staff and cowl, And now my business is to die.

Old Scathelocke, with his surly scowl, -Ye towers! within whose circuit dread

Maid Marion, fair as ivory bone, A Douglas by his sovereign bled,

Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John; And thou, O sad and fatal mound!

Their bugles challenge all that will, That oft hast heard the death-axe sound, In archery to prove their skill.

The Douglas bent a bow of might,

For he whom royal eyes disown, His first shaft centered in the white,

When was his form to courtiers known? And when in turn he shot again,

XXV. His second split the first in twain.

The monarch saw the gambols flag, From the king's hand must Douglas take

And bade let loose a gallant stag, A silver dart, the archer's stake;

Whose pride, the holiday to crown, Fondly he watched, with watery eye,

Two favourite greyhounds should pull down, Some answering glance of sympathy,

That venison free, and Bourdeaux wine
No kind emotion made reply!
Indifferent as to archer wight,

Might serve the archery to dine.

But Lufra,—whom from Douglas' side,
The monarch gave the arrow bright. 12

Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide,
XXII.

The fleetest hound in all the north,-
Now, clear the ring! for, hand to hand,

Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. The manly wrestlers take their stand.

She left the royal hounds mid way, Two o'er the rest superior rose,

And, dashing on the antlered prey, And proud demanded mightier foes,

Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank, Nor called in vain; for Douglas came.

And deep the flowing life-blood drank. -For life is Hugh of Larbert lame;

The king's stout huntsman saw the sport Searce better John of Alloa's fare,

By strange intruder broken short, Whom senseless home his comrades bear. Came up, and, with his leash unbound, Prize of the wrestling match, the king

In anger struck the poble hound. To Douglas gave a golden ring, '3

-The Douglas had endured, that morn, While coldly glanced his eye of blue,

The king's cold look,

nobles' scorn, As frozen drop of wintry dew.

And last, and worst to spirit proud, Douglas would speak, but in his breast

Had borne the pity of the crowd; His struggling soul his words suppressed: But Lufra had been fondly bred Indignant then he turned him where

To share his board, to watch his bed, Their arms the brawny yeomen bare,

And out would Ellen, Lufra's neck, To hurl the massive bar in air.

In Maiden glee, with garlands deck; When each his utmost strength had shown, They were such play-mates, that with name The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone

Of Lufra, Ellen's image eame. From its deep bed, then heaved it high,

His stifled wrath is brimming high, And sent the fragment through the sky,

In darkened brow and flashing eye; A mod beyond the farthest mark;

As waves before the bark divide, And still in Stirling's royal park,

The crowd gave way before his stride; The gray-haired sires, who know the past,

Needs but a buffet and no more, To strangers point the Douglas-cast,

The groom lies senseless in his gore. And moralize on the decay

Such blow no other band could deal, or Scotish strength in modern day.

Though gauntleted in glove of steel.
XXIV.

XXVI.
The vale with loud applauses rang,

Then clamoured loud the royal train, The Ladies' Rock sent back the clang.

And brandished swords and staves amain. The king, with look unmoved, bestowed

But stern the baron's warning-“Back! A purse well filled with pieces broad.

Back, on your lives, ye menial pack! Indignant smiled the Douglas proud,

Beware the Douglas ! - Yes, behold, And threw the gold among the crowd,

King James! the Douglas, doomed of old, Who now, with anxious wonder, scan,

And vainly sought for near and far, And sharper glance, the dark gray man;

A victim to atone the war: Till whispers rose among the throng,

A willing victim now attends, That heart so free, and hand so strong,

Nor craves thy grace but for his friends." Must to the Douglas' blood belong:

“ Thus is my clemency repaid? The old men marked, and shook the head,

Presumptuous lord!" the monarch said; To see his hair with silver spread,

“Of thy mis-proud ambitious clan, And winked aside, and told each son

Thou, James of Both well, wert the man, Or feats upon the English done,

The only man in whom a foe Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand

My woman-mercy would not know; Was exiled from his native land.

But shall a monarch's presence brook The women praised his stately form,

Injurious blow, and haughty look? Though wrecked by many a winter's storm;

What ho! the captain of our guard! The youth with awe and wonder saw

Give the offender fitting ward. His strength surpassing nature's law.

Break off the sports! for tumult rose, Thas judged, as is their wont, the crowd,

And yeomen 'gan to bend their bows,-Till murmur rose to clamours loud.

“Break off the sports!”—he said, and frowned, But bot a glance from that proud ring

“And bid our horsemen clear the ground." Of peers who circled round the king,

XXVII. With Douglas held communion kind,

Then uproar wild and misarray Or called the banished man to mind;

Marred the fair form of festal day. No, not from those who, at the chase,

The horsemen pricked among the crowd, Opee held his side the honoured place, Repelled by threats and insult loud; Begint his board, and, in the field,

To earth are borne the old and weak, found safety underneath his shield:

The timorous Ay, the women shriek;

With fint, with shaft, with staff, with bar, And like acclaim would Douglas greet,
The hardier urge tumultuous war.

If he could hurl me from my seat.
At once round Douglas darkly sweep

Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, The royal spears in circle deep,

Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain? And slowly scale the pathway steep;

Vain as the leaf upon the stream, While on the rear in thunder pour

And fickle as a changeful dream; The rabble with disordered roar.

Fantastic as a woman's mood, With grief the noble Douglas saw

And fierce as frenzy's fevered blood. The commons rise against the law,

Thou many-headed monster thing, And to the leading soldier said,

0! who would wish to be thy king!-“ Sir John of Hyndford! 'twas my blade

XXXI. That knighthood on thy shoulder laid;

“ But soft! what messenger of speed Fur that good deed permit me, then,

Spurs hitherward his panting steed?
A word with these misguided men.

I guess his cognizance afar
XXVIII.

What from our cousin, John of Mar?"“ Hear, gentle friends! ere yet for me

“ He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound Ye break the bands of fealty.

Within the safe and guarded ground: My life, my honour, and my cause,

For some foul purpose yet unknown,I tender free to Scotland's laws;

Most sure for evil to the throne, Are these so weak as must require

The outlawed chieftain, Roderick Dhu, The aid of your misguided ire?

Has summoned his rebellious crew; Or, if I suffer causeless wrong,

'Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid Is then my selfish rage so strong,

These loose banditti stand arrayed. My sense of public weal so low,

The earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune, That, for mean vengeance on a foe,

To break their muster marched, and soon Those chords of love I should unbind

Your grace will hear of battle fought; Which knit my country and my kind?

But earnestly the earl besought, Oh no! believe, in yonder tower

Till for such danger be provide, It will not sooth my captive hour,

With scanty train you will not ride.”— To know those spears our foes should dread,

XXXII. For me in kindred gore are red.

« Thou warn’st me I have done amiss, To know, in fruitless brawl begun

I should bave earlier looked to this; For me, that mother wails her son;

I lost it in this bustling day. For me, that widow's mate expires;

--Retrace with speed thy former way; For me, that orphans weep their sires,

Spare not for spoiling of thy steed, That patriots mourn insulted laws,

The best of mine shall be thy meed. And curse the Douglas for the cause.

Say to our faithful lord of Mar, O! let your patience ward such ill,

We do forbid the intended war;
And keep your right to love me still!”

Roderick, this morn, in single fight,
XXIX.

Was made our prisoner by a knight;
The crowd's wild fury sunk again

And Douglas haih himself and cause

Submitted to our kingdom's laws.
Io tears, as tempests melt in rain.
With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed

The tidings of their leaders lost
For blessings on his generous bead,

Will soon dissolve the mountain host, Who for his country felt alone,

Nor would we that the vulgar feel, And prized her blood beyond his own.

For their chiefs' crimes, avenging steel. Old men, upon the verge of life,

Bear Mar our message, Braco; fly!"Blessed him who stayed the civil strife;

He turned his steed, — My liege, I hie, And mothers held their babes on high,

Yet, ere I cross this lily lawn, The self-devoted chief to spy,

I fear the broad-swords will be drawn.” Triumphant over wrong and ire,

The turf the flying courser spurned, To whom the prattlers owed a sire:

And to his towers the king returned. E'en the rough soldier's heart was moved:

XXXII. As if behind some bier beloved,

III with king James's mood that day, With trailing arms and drooping head,

Suited gay feast and minstrel lay; The Douglas up the hill he led,

Soon were dismissed the courtly throng, And at the castle's battled verge,

And soon cut short the festal song.
With sighs resigned his honoured charge.

Nor less upon the saddened town,
XXX.

The evening sunk in sorrow down.
The offended monarch rode apart,

The burghers spoke of civil jar, With bitter thought and swelling heart,

Of rumoured feuds and mountain war, And would not now vouchsafe again

Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, Through Stirling's streets to lead his train. All up in arms;-the Douglas too, "O Lennox, who would wish to rule

They mourned him pent within the hold, This changeling crowd, this common fool!

“Where stout earl William was of old,»*. Hear'st thou,” he said, "the loud acclaim,

And there his word the speaker staid, With which they shout the Douglas name?

And finger on his lip he laid, With like acclaim the vulgar throat

Or pointed to his dagger blade. Strained for king James their morning note:

But jaded horsemen, from the west, With like acclaim they hailed the day

At evening to the castle pressed; When first I broke the Douglas' way,

Stabbed by James II, in Stirling eastia

now,

And busy talkers said they bore

To chare, with ill-concealed disdain, Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore;

Of Scotland's pay the scanty gain. At noon the deadly fray begun,

All brave in arms, well trained to wield And lasted till the set of sun.

The heavy halbert, brand, and shield; Thus giddy rumour shook the town,

In camps licentious, wild,' and bold; Till closed the night her pennons brown, In pillage, fierce and uncontrolled;

And by holy tide and feast,

From rules of discipline released.
CANTO VI.

IV.
THE GUARD-ROOM.

They held debate of bloody fray,
I.

Fought 'twixt Loch-Katrine and Achray.
Tas sun awakening, through the smoky air Fierce was their speech, and, 'mid their words,

of the dark city, casts a sullen glance, Their hands oft grappleil to their swords; Rousing each caitiff to his task of care,

Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear Of sinful man the sad inheritance;

Of wounded comrades groaning near, Summoning revellers from the lagging dance, Whose mangled limbs, and bodies gored,

And scaring prowling robber to his den; Bore token of the mountain sword, Gilding on battled tower the warder's lance, Though neighbouring to the court of guard,

And warning student pale to leave his pen, Their prayers and feverish wails were heard: And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men. Sad burden to the ruffian joke, What various scenes, and, O! what scenes of wo,

Aud savage oath by fury spoke!-
Are witnessed by that red and struggling beam! A yeoman from the banks of Trent;

At length up started John of Brent,
The fevered patient, from his pallet low,
Through crowded hospitals beholds its stream; in peace a chaser of the deer,

A stranger to respect or fear,
The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam,
The debtor wakes to thoughts of gyve and jail; But still the boldest of the crew,

In host a hardy mutineer,
The love-loro wretch starts from tormenting dream; When deed of danger was to do.

The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale,
Trims ber siek infant's couch, and sooths his feeble And marred the dicer's brawling, sport,

He grieved, that day, their games cut short, wail.

And shouted loud, “ Renew the bowl!
II.

And, while a merry catch I troll,
At dawn the towers of Stirling rang

Let each the buxom chorus bear,
With soldier step and weapon clang,

Like brethren of the brand and spear."
Chile drums, with rolling note, foretell
Relief to weary sentinel,

SOLDIER'S SONG.
Through narrow loop and casement barred

Our vicar still preachers that Peter and Poule The sunbeams sought the court of guard, Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny browo And, struggling with the smoky air,

bowl, Deadened the torch's yellow glare.

That there's wrath and despair in the jolly black In comfortless alliance shone

jack, The lights through arch of blackened stone, And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack; And showed wild shapes in garb of war,

Yet whoop, Barnaby! off with the liquor,
Faces deformed with beard and scar,

Drink upsees* out, and a fig for the vicar!
All haggard from the midnight watch,
And fevered with the stern debauch;

Our vicar he calls it damnation to sip
For the oak table’s massive board,

The ripe ruddy dew of a woman's dear lip, Flooded with wine, with fragments stored,

Says that Beelzebub lurks in her kerchief so sly, And beakers drained, and cups o'erthrown,

And Apollyon shoots darts from her merry black Showed in what sport the night had flown.

eye; Some, weary, snored on floor and bench:

Yet whoop, Jack! kiss Gillian the quicker, Some laboured still their thirst to quench;

Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for the vicar! Some, chilled with watching, spread their hands Our vicar thus preaches—and why should he not O'er the huge chimney's dying brands,

For the dues of his cure are the placket and pot; While round them, or beside them flung, And 'tis right of his office poor laymen to lurch, At every step their harness rung.

Who infringe the domains of our good mother

church. III.

Yet whoop, bully-boys! off with your liquor, These drew not for their fields the sword,

Sweet Marjorie's the word, and a fig for the vicar! Like tenants of a feudal lord, Nor owned the patriarchal claim Of chieftain in their leader's name;

The warder's challenge, heard without,

Staid in mid roar the merry shout. Adventurers they,' from far who roved,

A soldier to the portal went, To live by battle which they loved.

“Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent; There the Italian's clouded face, The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace;

And, beat for jubilee the drum!

A maid and minstrel with him come.
The mountain-loving Switzer there
More freely breathed in mountain-air;

Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarred,
The Fleming there despised the soil,

Was entering now the court of guard, That paid so ill the labourer's toil;

A harper with him, and in plaid

All muffled close, a mountain maid,
The rolls showed French and German nadie,
And merry England's exiles came,

"A Bacchanalian interjection, borrowed from the Dutch

V.

VI.

X.

Who backward shrunk to 'scape the view And, though by courtesy controlled,
Of the loose scene and boisterous crew.

Forward his speech, his bearing bold, “What news?” they roared:-"I only know, The high-born maiden ill could brook From noon till eve we tought with foe,

The scanning of his curious look, As wild and as untameable

And dauntless eye;--and yet, in sooth, As the rude mountains where they dwell. Young Lewis was a generous youth; On both sides store of blood is lost,

But Ellen's lovely face and mien, Nor much success can either boast,"

Ill-suited to the garb and scene, "But whence thy captives, friend? such spoil Might lightly bear construction strange, As theirs must needs reward thy toil.

And give loose fancy scope to range. Old dost thou wax, and wars grow sharp; “ Welcome to Stirling towers, fair maid! Thoy now hast glee-maiden and harp!

Come ye to seek a champion's aid, Get thee an ape, and trudge the land,

On palfrey white, with harper hoar,
The leader of a juggler band."-

Like arrant damosel of yore!
VII,

Does thy high quest a knight require, “No, comrade; no such fortune mine.

Or may the venture suit a squire?” After the fight, these sought our line,

Her dark eye flashed;—she paused and sighed,

“() what have I to do with pride! That aged harper and the girl, And, having audience of the earl,

Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife,

A suppliant for a father's life,
Mar bade I should purvey them steed,

I crave an audience of the king.
And bring them hitherward with speed.
Forbear your mirth and rude alarm,

Behold, to back my suit, a ring,

The royal pledge of grateful claims, For none shall do them shame or harm." “ Hear ye his boast!” cried John of Brent,

Given by the monarch to Fitz-James. "-Ever to strife and jangling bent; “Shall he strike doe beside our lodge,

The signet ring young Lewis took, And yet the jealous niggard grudge

With deep respect and altered look; To pay the forester his fee!

And said, - This ring our duties own; I'll have my share howe'er it be,

And, pardon, if to worth unknowo, Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee.”

In semblance mean obscurely veiled, Bertram his forward step withstood;

Lady, iu aught my folly failed. And, burning in his vengeful mood,

Soon as the day flings wide his gates, Old Allan, though unfit for strife,

The king shall know what suitor waits. Laid hand upon his dagger-knife;

Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower But Ellen boldly stepped between,

Repose you till his waking hour; And dropped at once the tartan screen:

Female attendance shall obey So, from his morning cloud, appears

Your hest for service or array. The sun of May, through summer tears.

Permit I marshal you the way. The savage soldiery amazed,

But, ere she followed, with the grace As on descended angel gazed;

And open bounty of her race, E'en hardy Brent, abashed and tamed,

She bade her slender purse be shared
Stood half admiring, half ashamed.

Among the soldiers of the guard.
VIII.

The rest with thanks their guerdon took;
Boldly she spoke:-" Soldiers, attend!

But Brent, with shy and awkward look,
My father was the soldier's friend;

On the reluctant maiden's hold
Cheered him in camps, in marches led, Forced bluntly back the proffered gold;-
And with him in the battle bled.

“ Forgive a haughty English heart, Not from the valiant, or the strong,

And Ở forget its ruder part; Should exile's daughter suffer wrong.".

The vacant purse shall be my share, Answered De Brent, most forward still

Which in my barret cap I'll bear, In every feat, or good or ill, -

Perchance, in jeopardy of war, “I shame me of the part I played:

Where gayer crests may keep afar.” And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid!

With thanks, --'twas all she could, -tha svud An outlaw I by forest laws,

His rugged courtesy repaid.
And merry Needwood knows the cause.
Poor Rose, -if Rose be living now,"
He wiped his iron eye and brow,

When Ellen forth with Lewis went, “ Must bear such age, I think, as thou,

Allan made suit to John of Brent:

“ My lady safe, O let your grace Hear ye, my matcs,—1 go to call The captain of our watch to hall;

Give me to see my master's face!

His minstrel 1,-io share his doom
There lies my halbert on the floor;
And he that steps my halbert o'er,

Bound from the cradle to the tomb.
To do the maid injurious part,

Tenth in descent, since first my sires

Waked for his noble house their lyres,
My shaft shall quiver in his heart!
Beware loose speech, or jesting rough:

Nor one of all the race was known
Ye all know John De Brent. Enough.”

But prized its weal above their own.

With the chief's birth begins our carer
IX.

Our harp must sooth the infant heir,
Their captain came, a gallant young

Teach the youth tales of fight, and grade (Of Tullibardine's house he sprung,)

His earliest feat of field os chass; Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight;

In peace, in war, our rank we doep, Gay was his mien, his huniour light,

We cheer his board, we sooth his ilden

XI.