2

Nor yet, for this, even as a spy,

Hadst thou, unheard, been doom'd to die,
Save to fulfil an augury.'

"Well, let it pass; nor will I now
Fresh cause of enmity avow,

To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow.
Enough, I am by promise tied

To match me with this man of pride:
Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's glen
In peace! but when I come agen,
I come with banner, brand, and bow,
As leader seeks his mortal foe.
For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower,
Ne'er panted for the appointed hour,
As I, until before me stand

This rebel Chieftain and his band!

IX.

"Have, then, thy wish!"-he whistled shrill,
And he was answer'd from the hill;
Wild as the scream of the curlew,
From crag to crag the signal flew.2
Instant, through copse and heath, arose
Bonnets and spears and bended bows;
On right, on left, above, below,

[MS. "This dark Sir Roderick

This savage Chieftain

and his band."]

[MS.-"From copse to copse the signal flew.

Instant, through copse and crags, arose."]

Sprung up at once the lurking foe;
From shingles gray their lances start,
The bracken bush sends forth the dart,'
The rushes and the willow-wand
Are bristling into axe and brand,
And every tuft of broom gives life 2
To plaided warrior arm'd for strife.
That whistle garrison'd the glen
At once with full five hundred men,
As if the yawning hill to heaven
A subterranean host had given.
Watching their leader's beck and will, 4

3

[MS.-" The bracken bush shoots forth the dart."] 2 [MS. And each lone tuft of broom gives life

To plaided warrior arm'd for strife.
That whistle manned the lonely glen
With full five hundred armed men."]

3 [The Monthly reviewer says:-"We now come to the chefd'œuvre of Walter Scott,-a scene of more vigour, nature, and animation, than any other in all his poetry." Another anonymous critic of the poem is not afraid to quote, with reference to the effect of this passage, the sublime language of the Prophet Ezekiel : "Then said he unto me, Prophesy unto the wind, prophesy, son of man, and say to the wind, Thus saith the Lord God; Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live. So I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood up upon their feet, an exceeding great army."→Chap. xxxvii. v. 9, 10.]

4

[MS.-" All silent, too, they stood, and still

Watching their leader's beck and will,
While forward step and weapon show
They long to rush upon the foe,

All silent there they stood, and still.
Like the loose crags whose threatening mass
Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass,

As if an infant's touch could urge
Their headlong passage down the verge,
With step and weapon forward flung,
Upon the mountain-side they hung.
The Mountaineer cast glance of pride
Along Benledi's living side,

Then fix'd his eye and sable brow

Full on Fitz-James-"How say'st thou now?
These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true;
And, Saxon,-I am Roderick Dhu!"

X.

Fitz-James was brave:-Though to his heart
The life-blood thrill'd with sudden start,
He mann'd himself with dauntless air,
Return'd the Chief his haughty stare,
His back against a rock he bore,
And firmly placed his foot before :-
"Come one, come all! this rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I."
Sir Roderick mark'd—and in his eyes
Respect was mingled with surprise,
And the stern joy which warriors feel
In foemen worthy of their steel.

Like the loose crags, whose tottering mass
Hung threatening o'er the hollow pass."}

Short space he stood-then waved his hand :
Down sunk the disappearing band;
Each warrior vanish'd where he stood,
In broom or bracken, heath or wood;
Sunk brand and spear and bended bow,
In osiers pale and copses low;

It seem'd as if their mother Earth
Had swallow'd up her warlike birth.
The wind's last breath had toss'd in air,
Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair,—
The next but swept a lone hill-side,
Where heath and fern were waving wide:
The sun's last glance was glinted back,
From spear and glaive, from targe and jack,—
The next, all unreflected, shone

On bracken green, and cold grey stone.

XI.

Fitz-James look'd round-yet scarce believed
The witness that his sight received;
Such apparition well might seem
Delusion of a dreadful dream.
Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed,
And to his look the Chief replied,

"Fear nought-nay, that I need not say—-
But-doubt not aught from mine array.
Thou art my guest;-I pledged my word
As far as Coilantogle ford:

Nor would I call a clansman's brand

For aid against one valiant hand. ·
Though on our strife lay every vale
Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. '
So move we on;—I only meant

To show the reed on which you leant,
Deeming this path you might pursue
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu.” 3
They moved :-I said Fitz-James was brave,

[MS." For aid against one brave man's hand." }

2 ["This scene is excellently described. The frankness and high-souled courage of the two warriors,-the reliance which the Lowlander places on the word of the Highlander to guide him safely on his way the next morning, although he has spoken threatening and violent words against Roderick, whose kinsman the mountaineer professes himself to be,-these circumstances are all admirably imagined and related.”—Monthly Review.]

3 This incident, like some other passages in the poem, illustrative of the character of the ancient Gael, is not imaginary, but borrowed from fact. The Highlanders, with the inconsistency of most nations in the same state, were alternately capable of great exertions of generosity, and of cruel revenge and perfidy. The following story I can only quote from tradition, but with such an assurance from those by whom it was communicated, as permits me little doubt of its authenticity. Early in the last century, John Gunn, a noted Cateran, or Highland robber, infested Inverness-shire, and levied black-mail up to the walls of the provincial capital. A garrison was then maintained in the castle of that town, and their pay (country banks being unknown) was usually transmitted in specie, under the guard of a small escort. It chanced that the officer who commanded this little party was unexpectedly obliged to halt, about thirty miles from Inverness, at a miserable inn. About nightfall, a stranger, in the Highland dress, and of very prepossessing appearance, entered the same