This clad in sackcloth, that in armor bright, And that was VALOR named, this BIGOTRY was hight.'

XXVIII.

VALOR was harness'd like a chief of old, [gest;
Arm'd at all points, and prompt for knightly
His sword was temper'd in the Ebro cold,
Morena's eagle plume adorn'd his crest,
The spoils of Afric's lion bound his breast. [gage;
Fierce he stepp'd forward and flung down his
As if of mortal kind to brave the best.

Him follow'd his Companion, dark and sage, As he, my Master, sung the dangerous Archimage.

XXIX.

Haughty of heart and brow the Warrior came, In look and language proud as proud might be, Vaunting his lordship, lineage, fights, and fame: Yet was that barefoot monk more proud than And as the ivy climbs the tallest tree, [he: So round the loftiest soul his toils he wound, And with his spells subdued the fierce and free, Till ermined Age and Youth in arms renown'd, Honoring his scourge and hair-cloth, meekly kiss'd the ground.

XXX.

And thus it chanced that VALOR, peerless knight, Who ne'er to King or Kaiser veil'd his crest, Victorious still in bull-feast or in fight,

Since first his limbs with mail he did invest, Stoop'd ever to that Anchoret's behest;

Nor reason'd of the right, nor of the wrong, But at his bidding laid the lance in rest, [along, And wrought fell deeds the troubled world For he was fierce as brave, and pitiless as strong.

XXXI.

Oft his proud galleys sought some new-found world,

That latest sees the sun, or first the morn; Still at that Wizard's feet their spoils he hurl'd, Ingots of ore from rich Potosi borne,

1 "These allegorical personages, which are thus described, are sketched in the true spirit of Spenser; but we are not sure that we altogether approve of the association of such imaginary beings with the real events that pass over the stage: and these, as well as the form of ambition which precedes the path of Bonaparte, have somewhat the air of the immortals of the Luxemburg gallery, whose naked limbs and tridents, thunderbolts and caducei, are so singularly contrasted with the ruffs and whiskers, the queens, archbishops, and cardinals of France and Navarre."-Quarterly Review.

2" Armed at all points, exactly cap-a-pee.' 9 See Appendix, Note I.

"Hamlet.

4" The third scene, a peaceful state of indolence and obscurity, where, though the court was degenerate, the peasant was merry and contented, is introduced with exquisite lightRess and gayety."-Quarterly Review.

"The three grand and comprehensive pictures in which Mr. Scott has delineated the state of Spain, during the three pe riods to which we have alluded, are conceived with much genius, and executed with very considerable, though unequal felicity. That of the Moorish dominion, is drawn, we think, with the greatest spirit. The reign of Chivalry and Super stition we do not think so happily represented, by a long and labored description of two allegorical personages called Bigotry and Valor. Nor is it very easy to conceive how Don Roderick was to learn the fortunes of his country, merely by inspecting the physiognomy and furnishing of these two figurantes. The truth seems to be, that Mr. Scott has been tempted on this oc casion to extend a mere metaphor into an allegory; and to prolong a figure which might have given great grace and spirit to a single stanza, into the heavy subject of seven or eight. His representation of the recent state of Spain, we think, display

Who, placed by fortune on a Monarch's throne, Reck'd not of Monarch's faith, or Mercy's kingly tone.

XXXIX.

From a rude isle his ruder lineage came,

The spark, that, from a suburb-hovel's hearth Ascending, wraps some capital in flame,

Hath not a meaner or more sordid birth. And for the soul that bade him waste the earthThe sable land-flood from some swamp obscure, That poisons the glad husband-field with dearth, And by destruction bids its fame endure, Hath not a source more sullen, stagnant, and impure.❜

XL.

Before that Leader strode a shadowy Form; Her limbs like mist, her torch like meteor show'd, [storm, With which she beckon'd him through fight and And all he crush'd that cross'd his desperate road, [trode. Nor thought, nor fear'd, nor look'd on what he Realms could not glut his pride, blood could

not slake,

So oft as e'er she shook her torch abroadIt was AMBITION bade her terrors wake, Wor deign'd she, as of yore, a milder form to take. XLI.

No longer now she spurn'd at mean revenge,

Or staid her hand for conquer'd foeman's moan; Au when, the fates of aged Rome to change, By Cæsar's side she cross'd the Rubicon. Nor joy'd she to bestow the spoils she won, As when the banded powers of Greece were task'd

To war beneath the youth of Macedon:

No seemly veil her modern minion ask'd, He saw her hideous face, and loved the fiend unmask'd.

XLII.

That Prelate mark'd his march-On banners blazed

With battles won in many a distant land,

are reasonably prepared for what follows."-Monthly Re view.

2 See I. Kings, chap. xviii. v. 41–45.

3 We are as ready as any of our countrymen can be, to designate Bonaparte's invasion of Spain by its proper epithets; but we must decline to join in the author's decamation against the low birth of the invader; and we cannot help reminding Mr. Scott that such a topic of censure is unworthy of him, both as a poet and as a Briton."-Monthly Review.

"The picture of Bonaparte, considering the difficulty of all contemporary delineations, is not ill executed."—Edinburgh Review.

wheel,

That the poor Puppet might perform his part, And be a sceptred slave, at his stern beck to start.

XLIV.

But on the Natives of that Land misused,

Not long the silence of amazement hung, Nor brook'd they long their friendly faith abused; For, with a common shriek, the general tongue Exclaim'd, "To arms !"—and fast to arms they

sprung.

And VALOR Woke, that Genius of the Land! Pleasure, and ease, and sloth, aside he flung, As burst th' awakening Nazarite his band, When 'gainst his treacherous foes he clench'd his dreadful hand.

XLV

That Mimic Monarch now cast anxious eye
Upon the Satraps that begirt him round,
Now doff'd his royal robe in act to fly,

And from his brow the diadem unbound.
So oft, so near, the Patriot bugle wound,

From Tarick's walls to Bilboa's mountains blown,

These martial satellites hard labor found,

To guard a while his substituted throne

Freedom's blow.

XLVIII.

Proudly they march-but, O! they march not forth

By one hot field to crown a brief campaign, As when their Eagles, sweeping through the North,

Destroy'd at every stoop an ancient reign! Far other fate had Heaven decreed for Spain;

In vain the steel, in vain the torch was plied, New Patriot armies started from the slain,

High blazed the war, and long, and far, and wide,

And oft the God of Battles blest the righteous side.

XLIX.

Nor unatoned, where Freedom's foes prevail Remain'd their savage waste. With blade

and brand,

By day the Invaders ravaged hill and dale,

But, with the darkness, the Guerilla band Came like night's tempest, and avenged the land, And claim'd for blood the retribution due, Probed the hard heart, and lopp'd the murd❜rous hand;

And Dawn, when o'er the scene her beams she threw, [knew.

Now arch'd with fire-sparks as the bomb was flung,

And redd'ning now with conflagration's glare While by the fatal light the foes for storm prepare

LIV.

While all around was danger, strife, and fear, While the earth shook, and darken'd was the

sky,

And wide Destruction stunn'd the listening ear, Appall'd the heart, and stupefied the eye,Afar was heard that thrice-repeated cry,

In which old Albion's heart and tongue unite, Whene'er her soul is up, and pulse beats high, Whether it hail the wine-cup or the fight, And bid each arm be strong, or bid each heart be light.

LV.

Don Roderick turn'd him as the shout grew loud

A varied scene the changeful vision show'd, For, where the ocean mingled with the cloud, A gallant navy stemm'd the billows broad. From mast and stern St. George's symbol flow'd, Blent with the silver cross to Scotland dear; Mottling the sea their landward barges row'd,3 And flash'd the sun on bayonet, brand, and spear, [cheer.1 And the wild beach return'd the seaman's jovial

LVI.

It was a dread, yet spirit-stirring sight!

The billows foam'd beneath a thousand oars, Fast as they land the red-cross ranks unite, Legions on legions bright'ning all the shores. Then banners rise, and cannon-signal roars,

Then peals the warlike thunder of the drum, Thrills the loud fife, the trumpet-flourish pours, And patriot hopes awake, and doubts are dumb, [come! For, bold in Freedom's cause, the bands of Ocear

"By heaven! it is a splendid sight to see

(For one who hath no friend, no brother there) Their rival scarfs of mix'd embroidery,

Their various arms, that glitter in the air!

What gallant war-hounds rouse them from their lair And gnash their fangs, loud yelling for the prey! All join the chase, but few the triumph share, The grave shall bear the chiefest prize away, And Havoc scarce for joy can number their array.

"Three hosts combine to offer sacrifice;

Three tongues prefer strange orisons on high;
Three gaudy standards flout the pale blue skies;
The shouts are France, Spain, Albion, Victory!
The foe, the victim, and the fond ally
That fights for all, but ever fights in vain,
Are met-as if at home they could not die-
To feed the crow on Talavera's plain,
And fertilize the field that each pretends to gain.'