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Yet, not in action, word, or eye,
Fail'd aught in hospitality.

In talk and sport they whiled away
The morning of that summer day;
But at high noon a courier light
Held secret parley with the knight,
Whose moody aspect soon declared
That evil were the news he heard.
Deep thought seem'd toiling in his head;
Yet was the evening banquet made,
Ere he assembled round the flame
His mother, Douglas, and the Græme,
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 play'd,

Then raised his haughty brow, and said:

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XXVIII.

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"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 honor'd mother; Ellen, -why,
My cousin, turn away thine eye?—

And Græme, 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!

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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,
O'er their own gateway struggling hung.
Loud cries their blood from Meggat's meed,
From Yarrow braes, and banks of Tweed,
Where the lone streams of Ettrick glide,
And from the silver Teviot's side;

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,
Now hither comes; his end the same,
The same pretext of sylvan game.
What grace for Highland Chiefs, judge ye
By fate of Border chivalry.

Yet more 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 turn'd their ghastly look, each one,
This to her sire, that to her son.
The hasty color went and came
In the bold cheek of Malcolm Græme;
But from his glance it well appear'd
'T was but for Ellen that he fear'd;
While, sorrowful but undismay'd,
The Douglas thus his counsel said:
"Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar,
It may but thunder and pass o'er;
Nor will I here remain an hour,

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To draw the lightning on thy bower;
For well thou know'st, at this gray head
The royal bolt were fiercest sped.
For thee, who, at thy King's command,
Canst aid him with a gallant band,
Submission, homage, humbled pride,
Shall turn the monarch's wrath aside.
Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart,
Ellen and I will seek, apart,

The refuge of some forest cell,
There like the hunted quarry dwell,
Till on the mountain and the moor
The stern pursuit be pass'd and o'er.".

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