THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. Walter Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ While all along the crowded way

       Was jubilee and loud huzza.

       And ever James was bending low

       To his white jennet’s saddlebow,

       Doffing his cap to city dame,

       Who smiled and blushed for pride and shame.

       And well the simperer might be vain,—

       He chose the fairest of the train.

       Gravely he greets each city sire,

       Commends each pageant’s quaint attire,

       Gives to the dancers thanks aloud,

       And smiles and nods upon the crowd,

       Who rend the heavens with their acclaims,—

       ‘Long live the Commons’ King, King James!’

       Behind the King thronged peer and knight,

       And noble dame and damsel bright,

       Whose fiery steeds ill brooked the stay

       Of the steep street and crowded way.

       But in the train you might discern

       Dark lowering brow and visage stern;

       There nobles mourned their pride restrained,

       And the mean burgher’s joys disdained;

       And chiefs, who, hostage for the* clan,

       Were each from home a banished man,

       There thought upon their own gray tower,

       Their waving woods, their feudal power,

       And deemed themselves a shameful part

       Of pageant which they cursed in heart.

       XXII

      Now, in the Castle-park, drew out

       Their checkered bands the joyous rout.

       There morricers, with bell at heel

       And blade in hand, their mazes wheel;

       But chief, beside the butts, there stand

       Bold Robin Hood and all his band,—

       Friar Tuck with quarterstaff and cowl,

       Old Scathelocke with his surly scowl,

       Maid Marian, fair as ivory bone,

       Scarlet, and Mutch, and Little John;

       Their bugles challenge all that will,

       In archery to prove their skill.

       The Douglas bent a bow of might,—

       His first shaft centred in the white,

       And when in turn he shot again,

       His second split the first in twain.

       From the King’s hand must Douglas take

       A silver dart, the archers’ stake;

       Fondly he watched, with watery eye,

       Some answering glance of sympathy,—

       No kind emotion made reply!

       Indifferent as to archer wight,

       The monarch gave the arrow bright.

       XXIII

      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,—

       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 bare.

       Prize of the wrestling match, the King

       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;

       Indignant then he turned him where

       Their arms the brawny yeomen bare,

       To hurl the massive bar in air.

       When each his utmost strength had shown,

       The Douglas rent an earthfast stone

       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 grayhaired sires, who know the past,

       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.

       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,

       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,

       To see his hair with silver spread,

       And winked aside, and told each son

       Of feats upon the English done,

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