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But she has ta'en the broken lance,
And wash'd it from the clotted gore,
And salved the splinter o'er and o'er.'
William of Deloraine, in trance,

Whene'er she turn'd it round and round,
Twisted as if she gall'd his wound.

Then to her maidens she did say, That he should be whole man and sound, Within the course of a night and day. Full long she toil'd; for she did rue Mishap to friend so stout and true.

XXIV.9

So pass'd the day-the evening fell,
'Twas near the time of curfew bell;
The air was mild, the wind was calm,
The stream was smooth, the dew was balm;
E'en the rude watchman, on the tower,
Enjoy'd and bless'd the lovely hour.
Far more fair Margaret loved and bless'd
The hour of silence and of rest.
On the high turret sitting lone,
She waked at times the lute's soft tone;
Touch'd a wild note, and all between
Thought of the bower of hawthorns green.
Her golden hair stream'd free from band,
Her fair cheek rested on her hand,
Her blue eyes sought the west afar,
For lovers love the western star.

XXV.

Is yon the star, o'er Penchryst Pen,
That rises slowly to her ken,

And, spreading broad its wavering light,
Shakes its loose tresses on the night?
Is yon red glare the western star?—
O, 'tis the beacon-blaze of war!

Scarce could she draw her tighten'd breath,
For well she knew the fire of death!

XXVI.

The Warder view'd it blazing strong,
And blew his war-note loud and long,
Till, at the high and haughty sound,
Rock, wood, and river, rung around.
The blast alarm'd the festal hall,
And startled forth the warriors all;
Far downward, in the castle-yard,
Full many a torch and cresset glared;
And helms and plumes, confusedly toss'd,
Were in the blaze half-seen, half-lost;
And spears in wild disorder shook,
Like reeds beside a frozen brook.

See Appendix, Note 2 R.

"As another illustration of the prodigious improvement which the style of the old romance is capable of receiving from a more liberal admixture of pathetic sentiments and gentle affections, we insert the following passage, [Stanzas xxiv. to xxvii.,] where the effect of the picture is finely assisted by the contrast of its two compartments "-JEFFREY.

XXVII.

The Seneschal, whose silver hair
Was redden'd by the torches' glare,
Stood in the midst, with gesture proud,
And issued forth his mandates loud:-
"On Penchryst glows a bale3 of fire,
And three are kindling on Priesthaughswire;
Ride out, ride out,

The foe to scout!

Mount, mount for Branksome, every man!
Thou, Todrig, warn the Johnstone clan,
That ever are true and stout-
Ye need not send to Liddesdale;
For when they see the blazing bale,
Elliots and Armstrongs never fail.—
Ride, Alton, ride, for death and life!
And warn the Warder of the strife.
Young Gilbert, let our beacon blaze,
Our kin, and clan, and friends, to raise."

XXVIII.

Fair Margaret, from the turret head,
Heard, far below, the coursers' tread,
While loud the harness rung,
As to their seats, with clamour dread,
The ready horsemen sprung:
And trampling hoofs, and iron coats,
And leaders' voices, mingled notes,

And out! and out!

In hasty route,

The horsemen gallop'd forth; Dispersing to the south to scout,

And east, and west, and north, To view their coming enemies, And warn their vassals and allies.

XXIX.

The ready page, with hurried hand," Awaked the need-fire's slumbering brand, And ruddy blush'd the heaven:

For a sheet of flame, from the turret high. Waved like a blood-flag on the sky,

All flaring and uneven ;

And soon a score of fires, I ween,

From height, and hill, and cliff, were seen;
Each with warlike tidings fraught;
Each from each the signal caught;
Each after each they glanced to sight,

As stars arise upon the night.

They gleam'd on many a dusky, tarn,"
Haunted by the lonely earn ;9

On many a cairn's 10

grey pyramid,

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And busied himself the strings withal, To hide the tear that fain would fall. In solemn measure, soft and slow, Arose a father's notes of woe.

The Lay of the Last Minstrel.

CANTO FOURTH.

I.

SWEET Teviot! on thy silver tide
The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride

Along thy wild and willow'd shore;1 Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or hill, All, all is peaceful, all is still,

As if thy waves, since Time was born, Since first they roll'd upon the Tweed,5 Had only heard the shepherd's reed, Nor started at the bugle-horn.

II.

Unlike the tide of human time,

Which, though it change in ceaseless flow, Retains each grief, retains each crime

Its earliest course was doom'd to know: And, darker as it downward bears, Is stain'd with past and present tears. Low as that tide has ebb'd with me, It still reflects to Memory's eye The hour my brave, my only boy,

Fell by the side of great Dundee." Why, when the volleying musket play'd Against the bloody Highland blade, Why was not I beside him laid!Enough-he died the death of fame; Enough he died with conquering Græme 1

III.

Now over Border, dale and fell,

Full wide and far was terror spread;
For pathless marsh, and mountain cell,
The peasant left his lowly shed.
The frighten'd flocks and herds were pent
Beneath the peel's rude battlement;

those in which the author drops the business of his story to moralize, and apply to his own situation the images and reflections it has suggested. After concluding one Canto with an account of the warlike array which was prepared for the reception of the English invaders, he opens the succeeding one with the following beautiful verses, (Stanzas i. and ii.)

"There are several other detached passages of equal beauty, which might be quoted in proof of the effect which is produced by this dramatic interference of the narrator."JEFFREY.

8 See Appendix, Note 2 V.

9 No one will dissent from this, who reads, in particular, the first two and heart-glowing stanzas of Canto VI.-now, by association of the past, rendered the more affecting.-ED

And maids and matrons dropp'd the tear,
While ready warriors seized the spear.
From Branksome's towers, the watchman's eye
Dun wreaths of distant smoke can spy,
Which, curling in the rising sun,
Show'd southern ravage was begun.'

IV.

Now loud the heedful gate-ward cried"Prepare ye all for blows and blood! Watt Tinlinn, from the Liddel-side, Comes wading through the flood.3 Full oft the Tynedale snatchers knock

At his lone gate, and prove the lock; It was but last St. Barnabright They sieged him a whole summer night, But fled at morning; well they knew, In vain he never twang'd the yew. Right sharp has been the evening shower, That drove him from his Liddel tower; And, by my faith," the gate-ward said, "I think 'twill prove a Warden-Raid. "4

V.

While thus he spoke, the bold yeomans
Enter'd the echoing barbican.
He led a small and shaggy nag,
That through a bog, from hag to hag,"
Could bound like any Billhope stag.7
It bore his wife and children twain;
A half-clothed serfs was all their train;
His wife, stout, ruddy, and dark-brow'd,
Of silver brooch and bracelet proud,
Laugh'd to her friends among the crowd.
He was of stature passing tall,

But sparely form'd, and lean withal;

A batter'd morion on his brow;

A leather jack, as fence enow,

On his broad shoulders loosely hung;

A border axe behind was slung;

1 See Appendix, Note 2 W. 9 Sce Appendix, Note 2 X. 3" And when they cam to Branksome ha', They shouted a' baith loud and hie, Till up and spak him auld Buccleuch, Said-' Whae's this brings the fraye to me?''It's I, Jamie Telfer, o' the fair Dodhead, And a harried man I think I be,'" &c, Border Minstrelsy, vol. ii. p. 8.

4 An inroad commanded by the Warden in person. 6 "The dawn displays the smoke of ravaged fields, and shepherds, with their flocks, flying before the storm. Tidings brought by a tenant of the family, not used to seek a shelter on light occasions of alarm, disclose the strength and object of the invaders. This man is a character of a lower and of a rougher cast than Deloraine. The portrait of the rude retainer is sketched with the same masterly hand. Here, again, Mr. Scott has trod in the footsteps of the old romancers, who confine not themselves to the display of a few personages who stalk over the stage on stately stilts, but usually reflect all the varieties of character that marked the era to which they belong. The interesting example of manners thus preserved to us is not the only advantage which results from this peculiar

His spear, six Scottish ells in length,
Seem'd newly dyed with gore;
His shafts and bow, of wondrous strength,
His hardy partner bore.

VI.

Thus to the Ladye did Tinlinn show
The tidings of the English foe:-
"Belted Will Howard 10 is marching here,
And hot Lord Dacre," with many a spear,
And all the German hackbut-men,12
Who have long lain at Askerten:
They cross'd the Liddel at curfew hour,
And burn'd my little lonely tower:
The fiend receive their souls therefor!
It had not been burnt this year and more.
Barn-yard and dwelling, blazing bright,
Served to guide me on my flight;

But I was chased the livelong night.

Black John of Akeshaw, and Fergus Græme,
Fast upon my traces came,

Until I turn'd at Priesthaugh Scrogg,
And shot their horses in the bog,
Slew Fergus with my lance outright—
I had him long at high despite :
He drove my cows last Fastern's night

VII.

Now weary scouts from Liddesdale,
Fast hurrying in, confirm'd the tale;
As far as they could judge by ken,
Three hours would bring to Teviot's strand
Three thousand armed Englishmen—
Meanwhile, full many a warlike band,
From Teviot, Aill, and Ettrick shade,
Came in, their Chief's defence to aid.
There was saddling and mounting in haste,
There was pricking o'er moor and lea;
He that was last at the trysting-place

Was but lightly held of his gaye ladye.13

structure of their plan. It is this, amongst other circum stances, which enables them to carry us along with them, under I know not what species of fascination, and to make us, as it were, credulous spectators of their most extravagant scenes. In this they seem to resemble the painter, who, in the delineation of a battle, while he places the adverse heroes of the day combating in the front, takes care to fill his back. ground with subordinate figures, whose appearance adds at once both spirit and an air of probability to the scene Critical Review, 1805.

6 The broken ground in a bog. 7 See Appendix, Note 2 Y. 8 Bondsman.

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As the Borderers were indifferent about the furniture of their habitations, so much exposed to be burned and plun dered, they were proportionally anxious to display splendour in decorating and ornamenting their females.-See LESLEY

de Moribus Limitaneorum

10 See Appendix, Note 2 2. 11 See Appendix, Note 3 A. 18 Musketeers. Sce Appendix, Note 3 B.

13 The four last lines of stanza vii, arc not in the 1st Editiou -ED.

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VIII.

Trom fair St. Mary's silver wave,

From dreary Gamescleugh's dusky height,

His ready lances Thirlestane brave
Array'd beneath a banner bright.
The tressured fleur-de-luce he claims,
To wreathe his shield, since royal James,
Encamp'd by Fala's mossy wave,
The proud distinction grateful gave,
For faith 'mid feudal jars;
What time, save Thirlestane alone,
Of Scotland's stubborn barons none
Would march to southern wars;
And hence, in fair remembrance worn,
Yon sheaf of spears his crest has borne;
Hence his high motto shines reveal'd—
"Ready, aye ready," for the field.'

IX.

An aged Knight, to danger steel'd,
With many a moss-trooper, came on:
And azure in a golden field,

The stars and crescent graced his shield,
Without the bend of Murdieston.2
Wide lay his lands round Oakwood tower,
And wide round haunted Castle-Ower;
High over Borthwick's mountain flood,
His wood-embosom'd mansion stood;
In the dark glen, so deep below,
The herds of plunder'd England low;
His bold retainers' daily food,

And bought with danger, blows, and blood.
Marauding chief! his sole delight
The moonlight raid, the morning fight;
Not even the Flower of Yarrow's charms,
In youth, might tame his rage for arms;
And still, in age, he spurn'd at rest,
And still his brows the helmet press'd,
Albeit the blanched locks below
Were white as Dinlay's spotless snow;
Five stately warriors drew the sword
Before their father's band;

A braver knight than Harden's lord
Ne'er belted on a brand.3

X.4

Scotts of Eskdale, a stalwart band,5
Came trooping down the Todshawhill;
By the sword they won their land,

And by the sword they hold it still.
Hearken, Ladye, to the tale,
How thy sires won fair Eskdale.-

Earl Morton was lord of that valley fair,
The Beattisons were his vassals there.

1 See Appendix, Note 3 C. 2 Sec Appendix, Note 3 D. 3 See, besides the note on this stanza, one in the Border Minstrelsy, vol. ii. p. 10, respecting Wat of Harden, the Author's ancestor.

A satirical piece, entitled "The Town Eclogue," which made much noise in Edinburgh shortly after the appearance of the Minstrelsy, has these lines:

The Earl was gentle, and mild of mood,

The vassals were warlike, and fierce, and rude;
High of heart, and haughty of word,
Little they reck'd of a tame liege lord.
The Earl into fair Eskdale came,
Homage and seignory to claim:

Of Gilbert the Galliard a heriot he sought, Saying, "Give thy best steed, as a vassal ough!.' "Dear to me is my bonny white steed,

Oft has he help'd me at pinch of need;
Lord and Earl though thou be, I trow,
I can rein Bucksfoot better than thou."-
Word on word gave fuel to fire,

Till so highly blazed the Beattison's ire,
But that the Earl the flight had ta'en,
The vassals there their lord had slain.
Sore he plied both whip and spur,

As he urged his steed through Eskdale muir;
And it fell down a weary weight,

Just on the threshold of Branksome gate.

XI.

The Earl was a wrathful man to see,
Full fain avenged would he be.
In haste to Branksome's Lord he spoke,
Saying "Take these traitors to thy yoke;
For a cast of hawks, and a purse of gold,
All Eskdale I'll sell thee, to have and hold:
Beshrew thy heart, of the Beattisons' clan
If thou leavest on Eske a landed man;
But spare Woodkerrick's lands alone,
For he lent me his horse to escape upon."
A glad man then was Branksome bold,
Down he flung him the purse of gold;
To Eskdale soon he spurr'd amain,
And with him five hundred riders has ta'en.
He left his merrymen in the mist of the hill,
And bade them hold them close and still;
And alone he wended to the plain,
To meet with the Galliard and all his train.
To Gilbert the Galliard thus he said:-
"Know thou me for thy liege-lord and head
Deal not with me as with Morton tame,
For Scotts play best at the roughest game.
Give me in peace my heriot due,
Thy bonny white steed, or thou shalt rue.
If my horn I three times wind,

Eskdale shall long have the sound in mind.”..

XII.

Loudly the Beattison laugh'd in scorn;
"Little care we for thy winded horn.
Ne'er shall it be the Galliard's lot,
To yield his steed to a haughty Scott.

"A modern author spends a hundred leaves,
To prove his ancestors notorious thieves. '-Er

4 Stanzas x. xi. xii. were not in the first Edition. See Appendix, Note 3 E.

The feudal superior, in certain cases, was entitled to the best horse of the vassal, in name of Heriot, or erezcld

Wend thou to Branksome back on foot,
With rusty spur and miry boot."—

He blew his bugle so loud and hoarse,

That the dun deer started at fair Craikcross;

He blew again so loud and clear,

Through the grey mountain-mist there did lances

appear;

And the third blast rang with such a din,
That the echoes answer'd from Pentoun-linn,
And all his riders came lightly in.

Then had you seen a gallant shock,

When saddles were emptied, and lances broke!
For each scornful word the Galliard had said,
A Beattison on the field was laid.

His own good sword the chieftain drew,
And he bore the Galliard through and through;
Where the Beattisons' blood mix'd with the rill,
The Galliard's-Haugh men call it still.
The Scotts have scatter'd the Beattison clan,
In Eskdale they left but one landed man.
The valley of Eske, from the mouth to the
source,

Was lost and won for that bonny white horse.

XIII.

Whitslade the Hawk, and Headshaw came,
And warriors more than I may name;
From Yarrow-cleugh to Hindhaugh-swair,'

From Woodhouselie to Chester-glen.
Troop'd man and horse, and bow and spear;
Their gathering word was Bellenden."
And better hearts o'er Border sod
To siege or rescue never rode.

The Ladye mark'd the aids come in,
And high her heart of pride arose:
She bade her youthful son attend,
That he might know his father's friend,
And learn to face his foes.
"The boy is ripe to look on war;

I saw him draw a cross-bow stiff,
And his true arrow struck afar

The raven's nest upon the cliff; The red cross, on a southern breast, Is broader than the raven's nest:

Thou, Whitslade, shalt teach him his weapon to wield,

And o'er him hold his father's shield."

XIV.

Well may you think, the wily page
Cared not to face the Ladye sage.

He counterfeited childish fear,
And shriek'd, and shed full many a tear,
And moan'd and plain'd in manner wild.
The attendants to the Ladye told,
Some fairy, sure, had changed the child,
That wont to be so free and bold.

This and the three following lines are not in the first edition.-ED.

Then wrathful was the noble dame;
She blush'd blood-red for very shame:-
"Hence! ere the clan his faintness view;
Hence with the weakling to Buccleuch !—
Watt Tinlinn, thou shalt be his guide
To Rangleburn's lonely side.-

Sure some fell fiend has cursed our line,
That coward should e'er be son of mine!"-

XV.

A heavy task Watt Tinlinn had,
To guide the counterfeited lad.
Soon as the palfrey felt the weight
Of that ill-omen'd elfish freight,
He bolted, sprung, and rear'd amain,
Nor heeded bit, nor curb, nor rein.
It cost Watt Tinlinn mickle toil
To drive him but a Scottish mile;

But as a shallow brook they cross'd,
The elf, amid the running stream,
His figure changed, like form in dream,

And fled, and shouted, "Lost! lost! lost!"
Full fast the urchin ran and laugh'd,
But faster still a cloth-yard shaft
Whistled from startled Tinlinn's yew,
And pierced his shoulder through and through.
Although the imp might not be slain,
And though the wound soon heal'd again,
Yet, as he ran, he yell'd for pain;
And Wat of Tinlinn, much aghast,
Rode back to Branksome fiery fast.

XVI.

Soon on the hill's steep verge he stood,
That looks o'er Branksome's towers and wood;
And martial murmurs, from below,
Proclaim'd the approaching southern foe.
Through the dark wood, in mingled tone,
Were Border pipes and bugles blown;
The coursers' neighing he could ken,
A measured tread of marching men;
While broke at times the solemn hum,
The Almayn's sullen kettle-drum ;

And banners tall, of crimson sheen,
Above the copse appear;

And, glistening through the hawthorns green,
Shine helm, and shield, and spear.

XVII.

Light forayers, first, to view the ground, Spurr'd their fleet coursers loosely round; Behind, in close array, and fast,

The Kendal archers, all in green, Obedient to the bugle blast,

Advancing from the wood were seen. To back and guard the archer band, Lord Dacre's bill-men were at hand:

2 See Appendix, Note 3 F

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