I love him still, despite my wrongs, By hasty wrath, and slanderous tongues. O seek the grace you well may find, Without a cause to mine combined.'
Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode : The waving of his tartans broad, And darken'd brow, where wounded pride With ire and disappointment vied, Seem'd, by the torch's gloomy light, Like the ill Demon of the night, Stooping his pinions' shadowy sway Upon the nighted pilgrim's way: But, unrequited Love! thy dart Plunged deepest its envenom'd smart, And Roderick, with thine anguish stung, At length the hand of Douglas wrung, While eyes, that mock'd at tears before, With bitter drops were running o'er. The death-pangs of long-cherish'd hope Scarce in that ample breast had scope, But, struggling with his spirit proud, Convulsive heaved its chequer'd shroud, While every sob—so mute were all- Was heard distinctly through the hall. The son's despair, the mother's look, Ill might the gentle Ellen brook; She rose, and to her side there came, To aid her parting steps, the Græme.
Then Roderick from the Douglas broke- As flashes flame through sable smoke, Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low,
To one broad blaze of ruddy glow, So deep the anguish of despair Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air. With stalwart grasp his hand he laid On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid : 'Back, beardless boy!' he sternly said, 'Back, minion! hold'st thou thus at naught The lesson I so lately taught?
This roof, the Douglas, and that maid, Thank thou for punishment delay'd.' Eager as greyhound on his game, Fiercely with Roderick grappled Græme. 'Perish my name, if aught afford Its Chieftain safety save his sword!' Thus as they strove, their desperate hand Griped to the dagger or the brand, And death had been-but Douglas rose, And thrust between the struggling foes His giant strength :—‘ Chieftains, forego! I hold the first who strikes, my foe.- Madmen, forbear your frantic jar! What! is the Douglas fall'n so far, His daughter's hand is doom'd the spoil Of such dishonourable broil!'
Sullen and slowly, they unclasp,
As struck with shame, their desperate grasp,
And each upon his rival glared, With foot advanced, and blade half bared.
Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung, And Malcolm heard his Ellen's scream, As falter'd through terrific dream. Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword, And veil'd his wrath in scornful word. 'Rest safe till morning; pity 'twere Such cheek should feel the midnight air! Then mayest thou to James Stuart tell, Roderick will keep the lake and fell, Nor lackey, with his freeborn clan, The pageant pomp of earthly man. More would he of Clan-Alpine know, Thou canst our strength and passes show. - Malise, what ho!'-his henchman came ; 'Give our safe-conduct to the Græme.' Young Malcolm answer'd, calm and bold, 'Fear nothing for thy favourite hold; The spot an angel deign'd to grace, Is bless'd, though robbers haunt the place. Thy churlish courtesy for those Reserve, who fear to be thy foes. As safe to me the mountain way At midnight as in blaze of day, Though with his boldest at his back, Even Roderick Dhu beset the track.-
« AnteriorContinuar » |