XXVII.

She sate beneath the birchen-tree,
Her elbow resting on her knee;
She had withdrawn the fatal shaft,
And gazed on it, and feebly laugh'd;
Her wreath of broom and feathers grey,
Daggled with blood, beside her lay.
The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried,-
"Stranger, it is in vain!" she cried.
"This hour of death has given me more
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,
That thou wert mine avenger born.-
Seest thou this tress?-C! still I've worn
This little tress of yellow hair,

Through danger, frenzy, and despair!
It once was bright and clear as thine,
But blood and tears have dimm'd its shine.
I will not tell thee when 't was shred,
Nor from what guiltless victim's head—
My brain would turn!-but it shall wave
Like plumage on thy helmet brave.

Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain,
And thou wilt bring it me again.-
I waver still.-O God! more bright
Let reason beam her parting light!—
O! by thy knighthood's honour'd sign,
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,
Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong,
And wreak poor Blanche of Devan's wrong!-
They watch for thee by pass and fell...
Avoid the path... O God!... farewell."

XXVIII.

A kindly heart had brave Fitz-James;
Fast pour'd his eyes at pity's claims,
And now, with mingled grief and ire,
He saw the murder'd maid expire.
"God, in my need, be my relief,
As I wreak this on yonder Chief!"
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,
No other favour 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, The stag at bay's a dangerous foc." Barr'd 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 turn'd back. Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length, From lack of food and loss of strength, He couch'd him in a thicket hoar, And thought his toils and perils o'er:

"Of all my rash adventures past,

This frantic feat must prove the last!
Who e'er so mad but might have guess'd,
That all this Highland hornet's nest

Would muster up in swarms so soon

As e'er they heard of bands at Doune?Like bloodhounds now they search me out,Hark, to the whistle and the shout!—

If farther through the wilds I

I only fall upon the foe:

go,

I'll couch me here till evening grey,
Then darkling try my dangerous way."

XXIX.

The shades of eve come slowly down,
The woods are wrapt in deeper brown,
The owl awakens from her dell,
The fox is heard upon the fell;
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,
He climbs the crag and threads the brake;
And not the summer solstice, there,
Temper'd the midnight mountain air,
But every breeze, that swept the wold,
Benumb'd his drenched limbs with cold.
In dread, in danger, and alone,

Famish'd and chill'd, through ways unknown,
Tangled and steep, he journey'd on;
Till, as a rock's huge point he turn'd,
A watch-fire close before him burn'd.
VOL. III.- - 15

XXX.

Beside its embers red and clear,

Bask'd, 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?"-
"Rest and a guide, and food and fire.
My life's beset, my path is lost,

The gale has chill'd my limbs with frost."-
"Art thou a friend to Roderick ?"—" No.”-
"Thou darest not call thyself a foe?"-
"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 space and law the stag we lend,
Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend,
Who ever reck'd, where, how, or when,
The prowling fox was trapp'd or slain?1
Thus treacherous scouts,-yet sure they lie,
Who say thou camest a secret spy!"—

They do, by heaven!-Come Roderick Dhu, And of his clan the boldest two,

'St. John actually used this illustration when engaged in con futing the plea of law proposed for the unfortunate Earl of Straf ford: "It was true, we gave laws to hares and deer, because they are beasts of chase: but it was never accounted either cruelty or foul play to knock foxes or wolves on the head as they can be found, because they are beasts of prey. In a word, the law and humanity were alike; the one being more fallacious, and the other more barbarous, than in any age had been vented in such an authority."-CLARENDON'S History of the Rebellion. Oxford 1702, fol. vol. p. 183.

And let me but till morning rest,

I write the falsehood on their crest.""If by the blaze I mark aright,

Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight.”—

Then by these tokens mayst thou know

Each proud oppressor's mortal foe."

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

XXXI.

He gave him of his Highland cheer,
The harden'd flesh of mountain deer;'

'The Scottish Highlanders, in former times, had a concise mode of cooking their venison, or rather of dispensing with cooking it, which appears greatly to have surprised the French, whom chance made acquainted with it. The Vidame of Charters, when a hostage in England, during the reign of Edward VI., was permitted to travel into Scotland, and penetrated as far as to the remote Highlands (au fin fond des Sauvages). After a great hunting party, at which a most wonderful quantity of game was destroyed, he saw these Scottish savages devour a part of their venison raw, without any further preparation than compressing it between two batons of wood, so as to force out the blood, and ren. der it extremely hard. This they reckoned a great delicacy; and when the Vidame partook of it, his compliance with their taste rendered him extremely popular. This curious trait of manners was communicated by Mons. de Montmorency, a great friend of the Vidame, to Brantome, by whom it is recorded in Vies des Hommes Illustres, Discours, lxxxix. art. 14. The process by which the raw venison was rendered eatable is described very minutely in the romance of Perceforest, where Estonne, a Scottish knight-errant, having slain a deer, says to his companion Claudius::-"Sire, or mangerez vous et moy aussi. Voire si nous auions de feu, dit Claudius. Par l'ame de mon pere, dist Estonne, ie vous atourneray et cuiray a la maniere de nostre pays comme pour cheualier errant. Lors tira son espee, et sen vint a