"Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak, Our moonlight circle's screen? Or who may dare on wold to wear "Up, Urgan, up! to yon mortal hie, "Lay on him the curse of the withered heart, Till he wish and pray that his life would part, XIV BALLAD CONTINUED 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood, Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf, And, as he crossed and blessed himself, But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 305 310 315 320 325 "Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood! It cleaves unto his hand, The stain of thine own kindly blood, The blood of Ethert Brand.” Then forward stepped she, Alice Brand, 330 "And if there's blood on Richard's hand, A spotless hand is mine. 335 “And I conjure thee, demon elf, To show us whence thou art thyself, XV BALLAD CONTINUED " 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in Fairy-land, When fairy birds are singing, When the court doth ride by their monarch's side, With bit and bridle ringing: "And gaily shines the Fairy-land But all is glistening show, Like the idle gleam that December's beam "And fading, like that varied gleam, Is our inconstant shape, Who now like knight and lady seem, "It was between the night and day, When the Fairy King has power, 340 345 350 That I sunk down in a sinful fray, And 'twixt life and death was snatched "But wist I of a woman bold, She crossed him once she crossed him twice— That lady was so brave; The fouler grew his goblin hue, The darker grew the cave. She crossed him thrice, that lady bold; The fairest knight on Scottish mould, Merry it is in good greenwood, When the mavis and merle are singing, But merrier were they in Dunfermline gray, When all the bells were ringing. XVI Just as the minstrel sounds were stayed, A stranger climbed the steepy glade; His martial step, his stately mien, 'Tis Snowdoun's Knight, 'tis James Fitz-James. Ellen beheld as in a dream, Then, starting, scarce suppressed a scream: "O stranger! in such hour of fear What evil hap has brought thee here?" 365 370 375 380 "An evil hap how can it be "The happy path!-what! said he naught Of guarded pass?" "No, by my faith! XVII "Sweet Ellen, dear my life must be, When love or honor's weighed with death. 385 390 395 400 405 I'll place thee in a lovely bower, 410 415 Too much, before, my selfish ear way ; The price of blood is on his head, With me 'twere infamy to wed. Still wouldst thou speak? — then hear the truth! Fitz-James, there is a noble youth If yet he is! — exposed for me And mine to dread extremity Thou hast the secret of my heart; XVIII Fitz-James knew every wily train But here he knew and felt them vain. 420 425 430 435 440 445 As death had sealed her Malcolm's doom |