On right, on left, above, below,
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
To plaided warrior armed for strife.
That whistle garrisoned 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,
All silent there they stood and still.
Like the loose crags whose threatening mass

205

210

215

Full on Fitz-James: “How say'st thou now? 225

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 thrilled with sudden start,

He manned himself with dauntless air,
Returned 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 marked, - and in his eyes
Respect was mingled with surprise,
And the stern joy which warriors feel
In foeman worthy of their steel.

230

235

Short space he stood - then waved his hand: 240

Down sunk the disappearing band;

Each warrior vanished where he stood,
In broom or bracken, heath or wood;
Sunk brand and spear and bended bow,
In osiers pale and copses low;
It seemed as if their mother Earth
Had swallowed up her warlike birth.
The wind's last breath had tossed in air

245

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

250

From spear and glaive, from targe and jack,

The next, all unreflected, shone

On bracken green and cold gray stone.

255

ΧΙ.

Fitz-James looked 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 naught - 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."
They moved;

- I said Fitz-James was brave

As ever knight that belted glaive,

Yet dare not say that now his blood
Kept on its wont and tempered flood,
As, following Roderick's stride, he drew
That seeming lonesome pathway through,
Which yet by fearful proof was rife
With lances, that, to take his life,
Waited but signal from a guide,
So late dishonored and defied.

258. Apparition. Sudden appearance. - 259. Delusion. Deception. 260. Suspense. Dread uncertainty.

260

265

270

275

280

273. Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. 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. Scott.

Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round
The vanished guardians of the ground,
And still from copse and heather deep
Fancy saw spear and broadsword peep,
And in the plover's shrilly strain
The signal whistle heard again.
Nor breathed he free till far behind
The pass was left; for then they wind
Along a wide and level green,

Where neither tree nor tuft was seen,
Nor rush nor bush of broom was near,
To hide a bonnet or a spear.

285

290

295

XII.

The Chief in silence strode before,
And reached that torrent's sounding shore,
Which, daughter of three mighty lakes,

From Vennachar in silver breaks,

Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 300
On Bochastle the mouldering lines,
Where Rome, the Empress of the world,
Of yore her eagle wings unfurled.

And here his course the Chieftain stayed,

Threw down his target and his plaid,
And to the Lowland warrior said:
"Bold Saxon! to his promise just,
Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust.
This murderous Chief, this ruthless man,
This head of a rebellious clan,

305

310

Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward,

Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard.
Now, man to man, and steel to steel,
A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel.
See, here all vantageless I stand,

315

Armed like thyself with single brand;

For this is Coilantogle ford,

And thou must keep thee with thy sword."

XIII.

The Saxon paused: "I ne'er delayed,
When foeman bade me draw my blade;
Nay more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death;

320

Yet sure thy fair and generous faith,
And my deep debt for life preserved,
A better meed have well deserved:

Can naught but blood or feud atone?
Are there no means?" - "No, stranger, none!
And hear, - to fire thy flagging zeal, -

325

"Then, by my word," the Saxon said,

"The riddle is already read.