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" Yes! I beheld his bloody fall,
By that base traitor's dastard ball,
Just when I thought to measure sword,
Presumptuous hope ! with Mortham's lord.
And shall the murderer 'scape, who slew
His leader, generous, brave, and true ? 2
Escape, while on the dew you trace
The marks of his gigantic pace?
No! ere the sun that dew shall dry,3
False Risingham shall yield or die.
Ring out the castle ’larum bell!
Arouse the peasants with the knell!
Meantime disperse-ride, gallants, ride!
Beset the wood on every side.
But if among you one there be,
That honours Mortham's memory,
Let him dismount and follow me!
Else on your crests sit fear and shame,
And foul suspicion dog your name!”

With them was Wilfrid, stung with iro,
And envying Redmond's martial fire,
And emulous of fame. But where
Is Oswald, noble Mortham's heir ?
He, bound by honour, law, and faith,
Avenger of his kinsman's death?
Leaning against the elmin tree,
With drooping head and slacken'd knee,
And clenched teeth, and close-clasp'd hands,
In agony of soul he stands !
His downcast eye on earth is bent,
His soul to every sound is lent;
For in each shout that cleaves the air,
May ringiliscovery and despair.

Instant to earth young REDMOND sprung;
Instant on earth the harness rung
Of twenty men of Wycliffe's band,
Who waited not their lord's command.
Redmond his spurs from buskins drew,
His mantle from his shoulders threw,
His pistols in his belt he placed,
The green-wood gain'd, the footsteps traced,
Shouted like huntsman to his hounds,
“ To cover, hark !”-and in he bounds.
Scarce heard was Oswald's anxious cry,
“ Suspicion! yes—pursue him--fly-
But venture not, in useless strife,
On ruffian desperate of his life,
Whoever finds him, shoot him dead !4
Five hundred nobles for his head!”

What 'vail'd it him, that brightly play'd
The morning sun on Mortham’s glade ?
All seems in giddy round to ride,
Like objects on a stormy tide,
Seen eddying by the moonlight dim,
Imperfectly to sink and swim.
What 'vail'd it, that the fair domain,
Its battled mansion, hill, and plain,
On which the sun so brightly shone,
Envied so long, was now his own??
The lowest dungeon, in that hour,
Of Brackenbury's dismal tower,
Had been his choice, could such a doom
Have open’d Mortham's bloody tomb!
Forced, too, to turn unwilling ear
To each surmise of hope or fear,
Murmur'd among the rustics round,
Who gather'd at the 'larum sound;
He dared not turn his head away,
E’en to look up to heaven to pray,
Or call on hell, in bitter mood,
For one sharp death-shot from the wood!

The horsemen gallop'd, to make good
Each path that issued from the wood.
Loud from the thickets rung the shout
Of Redmond and his eager route;

At length, o'erpast that dreadful space,
Back straggling came the scatter'd chase;
Jaded and weary, horse and man,
Return'd the troopers, one by one.

1 MS.--"Yes! I beheld him foully slain,

leave it, however, to you, only saying, that I never shun comBy that base traitor of his train."

mon words when they are to the purpose. As to your criti2 MS.-" A knight, so generous, brave and true."

cisms, I cannot but attend to them, because they touch pas

sages with which I am myself discontented.-W. S." 3 MS.

" that dew shall drain,
False Risingham shall be kill'd or ta'en."

6 MS.-"Jealous of Redmond's noble fire." 4 MS.-To the Prinler.--"On the disputed line, it may

6 “Opposed to this animated picture of ardent courage and stand thus,

ingenuous youth, that of a guilty conscience, which imme'Whoever finds him, strike him dead;'

diately follows, is indescribably terrible, and calculated to Or,

achieve the highest and noblest purposes of dramatic fiction." • Who first shall find him, strike him dead.'

---Critical Review. But I think the addition of felon, or any such word, will im

7 The contrast of the beautiful morning, and the prospect pair the strength of the passage. Oswald is too anxious to

of the rich domain of Mortham, which Oswald was come to use epithets, and is hallooing after the men, by this tine enter-scize, with the dark remorse and misery of his mind, is powering the wood. The simpler the line the better. In my humble fully represented: (Non domus et fundus/"&c. &c.- Vontkiy

Reticu. opinion, shoot him dead, was much better than any other. It implics, Do not even approach him, kill him at a distance. I 8 Sec Appendix, Note X,

Wilfrid, the last, arrived to say,
All trace was lost of Bertram's way,
Though Redmond still, up Brignal wood,
The hopeless quest in vain pursued.
0, fatal doom of human race!
What tyrant passions passions chase!
Remorse from Oswald's brow is gone,
Avarice and pride resume their throne;?
The pang of instant terror by,
They dictate us their slave's reply:-

Right heavy shall his ransom be,
Unless that maid compound with thee !"
Go to her now-be bold of cheer,
While her soul floats 'twixt hope and fcar;
It is the very change of tide,
When best the female heart is tried
Pride, prejudice, and modesty,
Are in the current swept to sea ;'
And the bold swain, who plies his oar,
May lightly row his bark to shore.”

the game



6 Ay-let him range like hasty hound!
And if the grim wolf's lair be found,
Small is my care how goes
With Redmond, or with Risingham.-
Nay, answer not, thou simple boy!
Thy fair Matilda, all so coy
To thee, is of another mood
To that bold youth of Erin's blood.
Thy ditties will she freely praise,
And pay thy pains with courtly phrase;
In a rough path will oft command-
Accept at least-thy friendly hand;
His she avoids, or, urged and pray'd,
Unwilling takes his proffer'd aid,
While conscious passion plainly speaks
In downcast look and blushing cheeks.
Whene'er he sings, will she glide nigh,
And all her soul is in her eye;
Yet doubts she still to tender free
The wonted words of courtesy.
These are strong signs ! - yet wherefore

And wipe, effeminate, thine eye?
Thine shall she be, if thou attend
The counsels of thy sire and friend.

I. The hunting tribes of air and earth Respect the brethren of their birth ;6 Nature, who loves the claim of kind, Less cruel chase to each assign'd. The falcon, poised on soaring wing, Watches the wild-duck by the spring; The slow-hound wakes the fox's lair; The greyhound presses on the hare; The eagle pounces on the lamb; The wolf devours the fleecy dam: Even tiger fell, and sullen bear, Their likeness and their lineage spare, Man, only, mars kind Nature's plan, And turns the fierce pursuit on man ; Plying war's desultory trade, Incursion, flight, and ambuscade, Since Nimrod, Cush's mighty son,

first the bloody game begun.

XXXI. « Scarce wert thou gone, when peep of light 3 Brought genuine news of Marston's fight. Brave Cromwell turn'd the doubtful tide, And conquest bless'd the rightful side; Three thousand cavaliers lie dead, Rupert and that bold Marquis fled; Nobles and knights, so proud of late, Must fine for freedom and estate. Of these, committed to my charge, Is Rokeby, prisoner at large; Redmond, his page,

arrived say He reaches Barnard's towers to-day.

II. The Indian, prowling for his prey, Who hears the settlers track his way, And knows in distant forest far Camp his red brethren of the war; He, when each double and disguise To baffle the pursuit he tries, Low crouching now his head to hide, Where swampy streams through rushes glide, 8 Now covering with the wither'd leaves The foot-prints that the dew receives: 9

I MS.-"Though Redmond still, as unsubdued." 9 The MS. adds :

“Of Mortham's treasure now he dreams,

Now nurses more ambitious schemes." * MS.-" This Redmond brought, at peep of light,

The news of Marston's happy fight." • See Appendix, Note Y.

6 MS.--"In the warm ebb are swept to sea."

lower 6 MS.—"The{

}tribes of earth and air, In the wild chase their kindred spare." The second couplet interpolated.


7 MS.-"Invasion, flight, and ambuscade." & MS.-“Where the slow waves through ruance glede." 9 See Appendix, Note Z.

He, skill'd in every silvan guile,

'Twas then—like tiger close beseta Knows not, nor tries, such various wile,

At every pass with toil and net, As Risingham, when on the wind

'Counter’d, where'er he turns his glare, Arose the loud pursuit behind.

By clashing arms and torches' fare, In Redesdale his youth had heard

Who meditates, with furious bound, Each art her wily dalesmen dared,

To burst on hunter, horse, and hound, When Rooken-edge, and Redswair high,

'Twas then that Bertram's soul arose, To bugle rung and blood-hound's cry,'

Prompting to rush upon his foes: Announcing Jedwood-axe and spear,

But as that crouching tiger, cow'd And Lid'sdale riders in the rear;

By brandish'd steel and shouting crowd, And well his venturous life had proved

Retreats beneath the jungle's shroud, The lessons that his childhood loved.

Bertram suspends his purpose stern,

And couches in the brake and fern,

Hiding his face, lest foemen spy
Oft had he shown, in climes afar,

The sparkle of his swarthy eye.
Each attribute of roving war;
The sharpen'd ear, the piercing eye,

The quick resolve in danger nigh;

Then Bertram might the bearing trace The speed, that in the flight or chase,

Of the bold youth who led the chase; Outstripp'd the Charib's rapid race;

Who paused to list for every sound, The steady brain, the sinewy limb,

Climb every height to look around, To leap, to climb, to dive, to swim;

Then rushing on with naked sword, The iron frame, inured to bear

Each dingle's bosky depths explored. Each dire inclemency of air.

"Twas Redmond-by the azure eye; Nor less confirm’d to undergo

'Twas Redmond-by the locks that fly Fatigue's faint chill, and famine's throe.

Disorder'd from his glowing cheek; These arts he proved, his life to save,

Mien, face, and form, young Redmond s In peril oft by land and wave,

A form inore active, light, and strong, On Arawaca’s desert shore,

Ne'er shot the ranks of war along; Or where La Plata's billows roar.

The modest, yet the manly mien, When oft the sons of vengeful Spain

Might grace the court of maiden queen; Track'd the marauder's steps in vain.

A face more fair you well might find, These arts, in Indian warfare tried,

For Redmond's knew the sun and wind,
Must save him now by Greta's side.

Nor boasted, from their tinge when free,
The charm of regularity;

But every feature had the power 'Twas then, in hour of utmost need,

To aid the expression of the hour: He proved his courage, art, and speed.

Whether gay wit, and humour sly, Now slow he stalk'd with stealthy pace,

Danced laughing in his light-blue eye; Now started forth in rapid race,

Or bended brow, and glance of fire, Oft doubling back in mazy train,

And kindling cheek, spoke Erin's ire; To blind the trace the dews retain ;?

Or soft and sadden'd glances show Now clombe the rocks projecting high,

Her ready sympathy with woe; To baffle the pursuer's eye;

Or in that wayward mood of mind, Now sought the stream, whose brawling sound When various feelings are combined, The echo of his footsteps drown'd.

When joy and sorrow mingle near, But if the forest verge he nears,

And hope's bright wings are check'd by There trample steeds, and glimmer spears ;

fear, If deeper down the copse ho drew,

And rising doubts keep transport down, He heard the rangers' loud halloo,

And anger lends a short-lived frown; Beating each cover while they came,

In that strange mood which maids approve As if to start the silvan game.

Even when they dare not call it love;


I See Appendix, Note 2 A.
2 MS.-"Where traces in the dew remain."
a MS." And oft his soul within him rose,

Prompting to rush upon his foes,
And oft, like tiger toil-beset,
That in each pass finds foe and net," &c.

* Suspending yet his purpose stern,
He couch'd him in the brake and fern;
Hiding his face, lest foemen spy

The sparkle of his swarthy ere."
8 See Appendix, Note 2 B.

6 These six couplets were often quoted by the late Lord Kinnedder as giving, in his opinion, an excellent portratt of the author himself.-EU.

. In the MS. the stanza concludes thus :

With every change his features play'd, As aspens show the light and shade.'

He stands in Scargill wood alone,
Nor hears he now a harsher tone
Than the hoarse cushat's plaintive cry,
Or Greta's sound that murmurs by ;
And on the dale, so lone and wild,
The summer sun in quiet smiled.

VI. Well Risingham young Redmond knew : And much he marvell’d that the crew, Roused to revenge bold Mortham dead, Were by that Mortham's foeman led; For never felt his soul the woe, That wails a generous foeman low, Far less that sense of justice strong, That wreaks a generous foeman's wrong. But small his leisure now to pause; Redmond is first, whate'er the cause : And twice that Redmond came so near Where Bertram couch'd like hunted deer, The very boughs his steps displace, Rustled against the ruffian's face, Who, desperate, twice prepared to start, And plunge his dagger in his heart! But Redmond turn'd a different way, And the bent boughs resumed their sway, And Bertram held it wise, unseen, Deeper to plunge in coppice green. Thus, circled in his coil, the snake, When roving hunters beat the brake, Watches with red and glistening eye, Prepared, if heedless step draw nigh, With forked tongue and venom'd fang Instant to dart the deadly pang; But if the intruders turn aside, Away his coils unfolded glide, And through the deep savannah wind, Some undisturb'd retreat to find.

VIII. He listen'd long with anxious heart, Ear bent to hear, and foot to start, And, while his stretch'd attention glows, Refused his weary frame repose. 'Twas silence all-he laid him down, Where purple heath profusely strown, And throatwort, with its azure bell, And moss and thyme his cushion swell. There, spent with toil, he listless eyed The course of Greta's playful tide; Beneath, her banks now eddying dun, Now brightly gleaming to the sun, As, dancing over rock and stone, In yellow light her currents shone, Matching in hue the favourite gem Of Albin's mountain-diadem. Then, tired to watch the current's play, He turn'd his weary eyes away, To where the bank opposing show'd Its huge, square cliffs through shaggy wood. 5 One, prominent above the rest, Rear'd to the sun its pale grey breast; Around its broken summit grew The hazel rude, and sable yew; A thousand varied lichens dyed Its waste and weather-beaten side, And round its rugged basis lay, By time or thunder rent away, Fragments, that, from its frontlet torn, Were mantled now by verdant thorn. Such was the scene's wild majesty, That fill’d stern Bertram's gazing eye.

VII. But Bertram, as he backward drew, And heard the loud pursuit renew, And Redmond's hollo on the wind, Oft mutter'd in his savage mind“ Redmond O'Neale! were thou and I Alone this day's event to try, With not a second here to see, But the grey cliff and oaken tree,That voice of thine, that shouts so loud, Should ne'er repeat its summons proud! No! por e'er try its melting power Again in maiden's summer bower.” Eluded, now behind him die, Faint and more faint, each hostile cry;

IX. In sullen mood he lay reclined, Revolving, in his stormy mind, The felon deed, the fruitless guilt, His patron's blood by treason spilt; A crime, it seem'd, so dire and dread, That it had power to wake the dead. Then, pondering on his life betray'd ? By Oswald's art to Redmond’s blade,

1 In the Ms.'this image comes after the line “ to aid the bury bells, grows in profusion upon the beautiful banks of the expression of the hour," and the couplet stands :

river Greta, where it divides the manors of Brignall and Scar “ And like a flexile aspen play'd

gill, about three miles above Greta Bridge.

6 MS. Alternately in light and shade."

“show'd, : MS.-" The chase he heads, whate'er the cause."

With many a rocky fragment rude,

Its old grey cliffs and shaggy wood." “and limbs to start,

6 The MS. adds: And, while his stretch'd attention glows,

" Yet as he gazed, he fail'd to find Scarce felt his weary frame repose."

According image touch his mind." • The Campanula Latifolia, grand throatwort, or Canter- 7 MS.-" Then thought he on his life betray'd."

3 MS.

In treacherous purpose to withhold, So seem'd it, Mortham’s promised gold, A deep and full revenge he vow'd On Redmond, forward, fierce, and proud; Revenge on Wilfrid-on his sire Redoubled vengeance, swift and dire ! If, in such mood, (as legends say, And well believed that simple day,) The Enemy of Man has power To profit by the evil hour, Here stood a wretch, prepared to change His soul's redemption for revenge !! But though his vows, with such a fire Of earnest and intense desire For vengeance dark and fell, were made, As well might reach hell's lowest shade, No deeper clouds the grove embrown'd, No nether thunders shook the ground;The demon knew his vassal's heart, And spared temptation's needless art.3

Yet, dubious still, opposed he stood
To him that issued from the wood :
“ Guy Denzil is it thou ?” he said ;
“ Do we two meet in Scargill shade!
Stand back a space !--thy purpose show,
Whether thou comest as friend or foe.
Report hath said, that Denzil's name
From Rokeby's band was razed with shame.”_
“A shame I owe that hot O'Neale,
Who told his knight, in peevish zeal,
Of my marauding on the clowns
Of Calverley and Bradford downs."
I reck not. In a war to strive,
Where, save the leaders, none can thrive,
Suits ill my mood; and better game
Awaits us both, if thou’rt the same
Unscrupulous, bold Risingham,
Who watched with me in midnight dark,
To snatch a deer from Rokeby-park.
How think’st thou ?”_" Speak thy purpose

I love not mystery or doubt."-

X. Oft, mingled with the direful theme, Came Mortham's form—Was it a dream? Or had he seen, in vision true, That very Mortham whom he slow? Or had in living flesh appear'd The only man on earth he fear’d? To try the mystic cause intent, His eyes, that on the cliff were bent, 'Counter'd at once a dazzling glance, Like sunbeam flash'd from sword or lance. At once he started as for fight, But not a foeman was in sight;* He heard the cushat's murmur hoarse, He heard the river's sounding course; The solitary woodlands lay, As slumbering in the summer ray. He gazed, like lion roused, around, Then sunk again upon the ground. 'Twas but, he thought, some fitful beam, Glanced sudden from the sparkling stream; Then plunged him from his gloomy train Of ill-connected thoughts again, Until a voice behind him cried, “ Bertram! well met on Greta side.”

XII. “ Then, list.-Not far there lurk a crew Of trusty comrades, stanch and true, Glean'd from both factions-Roundheads, freed From cant of sermon and of creed; And Cavaliers, whose souls, like mine, Spurn at the bonds of discipline. Wiser, we judge, by dale and wold, A warfare of our own to hold, Than breathe our last on battle-down, For cloak or surplice, mace or crown. Our schemes are laid, our purpose set, A chief and leader lack we yet.-Thou art a wanderer, it is said ; For Mortham's death, thy steps way-laid, Thy head at price—so say our spies, Who range the valley in disguise. Join then with us:—though wild debate And wrangling rend our infant state, Each to an equal loth to bow, Will yield to chief renown'd as thou.”

XI. Instant his sword was in his hand, As instant sunk the ready brand;

XIII. “ Even now,” thought Bertram, passion-stirr'd, “ I callid on hell, and hell has heard ! What lack I, vengeance to command, But of stanch comrades such a band ?

" See Appendix, Note 2 C.
2 MS.—" For deep and dark revenge were made

As well might take hell's lowest shade." 3 “Bertram is now alone: the landscape around is truly grand, partially illuminated by the sun; and we are reminded of the scene in The Robbers, in which something of a similar contrast is exhibited between the beauties of external nature and the agitations of human passion. It is in such pictures that Mr. Scott delights and excels."- Monthly Review. One is surprised that the revicwer did not quote Milton rather than Sehiller:

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