The Lady of the Lake Part 17

Now, clear the ring! for, hand to hand, The manly wrestlers take their stand.

Two o'er the rest superior rose, And proud demanded mightier foes, 635 Nor called in vain; for Douglas came.

--For life is Hugh of Larbert lame; Scarce better John of Alloa's fare, Whom senseless home his comrades bear.

Prize of the wrestling match, the King 640 To Douglas gave a golden ring, While coldly glanced his eye of blue, As frozen drop of wintry dew.

Douglas would speak, but in his breast His struggling soul his words suppressed; 645 Indignant then he turned him where Their arms the brawny yeomen bare.

To hurl the ma.s.sive bar in air.

When each his utmost strength had shown, The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone 650 From its deep bed, then heaved it high, And sent the fragment through the sky, A rood beyond the farthest mark; And still in Stirling's royal park, The gray-haired sires, who know the past, 655 To strangers point the Douglas-cast, And moralize on the decay Of Scottish strength in modern day.

XXIV

The vale with loud applauses rang, The Ladies' Rock sent back the clang. 660 The King, with look unmoved, bestowed A purse well-filled with pieces broad.

Indignant smiled the Douglas proud, And threw the gold among the crowd, Who now, with anxious wonder, scan, 665 And sharper glance, the dark gray man; Till whispers rose among the throng, That heart so free, and hand so strong, Must to the Douglas blood belong.

The old men marked and shook the head, 670 To see his hair with silver spread, And winked aside, and told each son, Of feats upon the English done, Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand Was exiled from his native land. 675 The women praised his stately form, Though wrecked by many a winter's storm; The youth with awe and wonder saw His strength surpa.s.sing Nature's law.

Thus judged, as is their wont, the crowd, 680 Till murmur rose to clamors loud.

But not a glance from that proud ring Of peers who circled round the King, With Douglas held communion kind, Or called the banished man to mind; 685 No, not from those who, at the chase, Once held his side the honored place, Begirt his board, and, in the field, Found safety underneath his shield; For he, whom royal eyes disown, 690 When was his form to courtiers known!

XXV

The Monarch saw the gambols flag, And bade let loose a gallant stag, Whose pride, the holiday to crown, Two favorite greyhounds should pull down, 695 That venison free, and Bordeaux wine, Might serve the archery to dine.

But Lufra--whom from Douglas' side Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide, The fleetest hound in all the North-- 700 Brave Lufra saw and darted forth.

She left the royal hounds mid-way, And dashing on the antlered prey, Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank, And deep the flowing life-blood drank. 705 The King's stout huntsman saw the sport By strange intruder broken short, Came up, and with his leash unbound, In anger struck the n.o.ble hound.

The Douglas had endured, that morn, 710 The King's cold look, the n.o.bles' scorn, And last, and worst to spirit proud, Had borne the pity of the crowd; But Lufra had been fondly bred, To share his board, to watch his bed, 715 And oft would Ellen, Lufra's neck In maiden glee with garlands deck; They were such playmates, that with name Of Lufra, Ellen's image came.

His stifled wrath is br.i.m.m.i.n.g high, 720 In darkened brow and flashing eye; As waves before the bark divide, The crowd gave way before his stride; Needs but a buffet and no more, The groom lies senseless in his gore. 725 Such blow no other hand could deal, Though gauntleted in glove of steel.

XXVI

Then clamored loud the royal train, And brandished swords and staves amain, But stern the Baron's warning--"Back! 730 Back, on your lives, ye menial pack!

Beware the Douglas.--Yes! behold, King James! the Douglas, doomed of old, And vainly sought for near and far, A victim to atone the war, 735 A willing victim, now attends, Nor craves thy grace but for his friends."

"Thus is my clemency repaid?

Presumptuous Lord!" the monarch said; "Of thy misproud ambitious clan, 740 Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man, The only man, in whom a foe My woman-mercy would not know: But shall a Monarch's presence brook Injurious blow, and haughty look? 745 What ho! the Captain of our Guard!

Give the offender fitting ward.

Break off the sports!"--for tumult rose, And yeomen 'gan to bend their bows-- "Break off the sports!" he said, and frowned, 750 "And bid our hors.e.m.e.n clear the ground."

XXVII

Then uproar wild and misarray Marred the fair form of festal day.

The hors.e.m.e.n p.r.i.c.ked among the crowd, Repelled by threats and insult loud; 755 To earth are borne the old and weak, The timorous fly, the women shriek; With flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar, The hardier urge tumultuous war.

At once round Douglas darkly sweep 760 The royal spears in circle deep, And slowly scale the pathway steep; While on the rear in thunder pour The rabble with disordered roar.

With grief the n.o.ble Douglas saw 765 The Commons rise against the law, And to the leading soldier said-- "Sir John of Hyndford! 'twas my blade, That knighthood on thy shoulder laid; For that good deed, permit me then 770 A word with these misguided men.

XXVIII

"Hear, gentle friends! ere yet for me, Ye break the bands of fealty.

My life, my honor, and my cause, I tender free to Scotland's laws. 775 Are these so weak as must require The aid of your misguided ire?

Or, if I suffer causeless wrong, Is then my selfish rage so strong, My sense of public weal so low, 780 That, for mean vengeance on a foe, Those cords of love I should unbind, Which knit my country and my kind?

O no! Believe, in yonder tower It will not soothe my captive hour, 785 To know those spears our foes should dread, For me in kindred gore are red; To know, in fruitless brawl begun, For me, that mother wails her son; For me, that widow's mate expires; 790 For me, that orphans weep their sires; That patriots mourn insulted laws, And curse the Douglas for the cause.

O let your patience ward such ill, And keep your right to love me still!" 795

XXIX

The crowd's wild fury sunk again In tears, as tempests melt in rain.

With lifted hands and eyes, they prayed For blessings on his generous head, Who for his country felt alone, 800 And prized her blood beyond his own.

Old men, upon the verge of life, Blessed him who stayed the civil strife; And mothers held their babes on high, The self-devoted Chief to spy, 805 Triumphant over wrongs and ire, To whom the prattlers owed a sire.

Even the rough soldier's heart was moved; As if behind some bier beloved, With trailing arms and drooping head, 810 The Douglas up the hill he led, And at the Castle's battled verge, With sighs resigned his honored charge.

x.x.x

The offended Monarch rode apart, With bitter thought and swelling heart, 815 And would not now vouchsafe again Through Stirling streets to lead his train.

"O Lennox, who would wish to rule This changeling crowd, this common fool?

Hear'st thou," he said, "the loud acclaim, 820 With which they shout the Douglas name?

With like acclaim, the vulgar throat Strained for King James their morning note; With like acclaim they hailed the day When first I broke the Douglas' sway; 825 And like acclaim would Douglas greet, If he could hurl me from my seat.

Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain!

Vain as the leaf upon the stream, 830 And fickle as a changeful dream; Fantastic as a woman's mood, And fierce as Frenzy's fevered blood.

Thou many-headed monster-thing, O who could wish to be thy king! 835

x.x.xI

"But soft! what messenger of speed Spurs. .h.i.therward his panting steed?

I guess his cognizance afar-- What from our cousin, John of Mar?"-- "He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound 840 Within the safe and guarded ground; For some foul purpose yet unknown-- Most sure for evil to the throne-- The outlawed Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, Has summoned his rebellious crew; 845 'Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid These loose banditti stand arrayed.

The Earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune, To break their muster marched, and soon Your Grace will hear of battle fought; 850 But earnestly the Earl besought, Till for such danger he provide, With scanty train you will not ride."

x.x.xII

"Thou warn'st me I have done amiss-- I should have earlier looked to this; 855 I lost it in this bustling day.

Retrace with speed thy former way; Spare not for spoiling of thy steed The best of mine shall be thy meed.

Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, 860 We do forbid the intended war.

Roderick, this morn, in single fight, Was made our prisoner by a knight; And Douglas hath himself and cause Submitted to our kingdom's laws. 865 The tidings of their leaders lost Will soon dissolve the mountain host, Nor would we that the vulgar feel For their Chief's crimes, avenging steel.

Bear Mar our message, Braco; fly!" 870 He turned his steed--"My liege, I hie, Yet, ere I cross this lily lawn, I fear the broadswords will be drawn."

The turf the flying courser spurned, And to his towers the King returned. 875

x.x.xIII

Ill with King James's mood that day, Suited gay feast and minstrel lay; Soon were dismissed the courtly throng, And soon cut short the festal song.

Nor less upon the saddened town 880 The evening sunk in sorrow down.

The burghers spoke of civil jar, Of rumored feuds and mountain war, Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, All up in arms--The Douglas too, 885 They mourned him pent within the hold, "Where stout Earl William was of old."

And there his word the speaker stayed, And finger on his lip he laid, Or pointed to his dagger blade. 890 But jaded hors.e.m.e.n, from the west, At evening to the Castle pressed; And busy talkers said they bore Tidings of fight on Katrine's sh.o.r.e; At noon the deadly fray begun, 895 And lasted till the set of sun.

Thus giddy rumor shook the town, Till closed the Night her pennons brown.