THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. Walter Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">       Sought comfort in each other’s eye,

       Then turned their ghastly look, each one,

       This to her sire, that to her son.

       The hasty color went and came

       In the bold cheek of Malcohm Graeme,

       But from his glance it well appeared

       ‘T was but for Ellen that he feared;

       While, sorrowful, but undismayed,

       The Douglas thus his counsel said:

       ‘Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar,

       It may but thunder and pass o’er;

       Nor will I here remain an hour,

       To draw the lightning on thy bower;

       For well thou know’st, at this gray head

       The royal bolt were fiercest sped.

       For thee, who, at thy King’s command,

       Canst aid him with a gallant band,

       Submission, homage, humbled pride,

       Shall turn the Monarch’s wrath aside.

       Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart,

       Ellen and I will seek apart

       The refuge of some forest cell,

       There, like the hunted quarry, dwell,

       Till on the mountain and the moor

       The stern pursuit be passed and o’er,’—

       XXX

      ‘No, by mine honor,’ Roderick said,

       ‘So help me Heaven, and my good blade!

       No, never! Blasted be yon Pine,

       My father’s ancient crest and mine,

       If from its shade in danger part

       The lineage of the Bleeding Heart!

       Hear my blunt speech: grant me this maid

       To wife, thy counsel to mine aid;

       To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu,

       Will friends and allies flock enow;

       Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief,

       Will bind to us each Western Chief

       When the loud pipes my bridal tell,

       The Links of Forth shall hear the knell,

       The guards shall start in Stirling’s porch;

       And when I light the nuptial torch,

       A thousand villages in flames

       Shall scare the slumbers of King James!—

       Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away,

       And, mother, cease these signs, I pray;

       I meant not all my heat might say.—

       Small need of inroad or of fight,

       When the sage Douglas may unite

       Each mountain clan in friendly band,

       To guard the passes of their land,

       Till the foiled King from pathless glen

       Shall bootless turn him home again.’

       XXXI

      There are who have, at midnight hour,

       In slumber scaled a dizzy tower,

       And, on the verge that beetled o’er

       The ocean tide’s incessant roar,

       Dreamed calmly out their dangerous dream,

       Till wakened by the morning beam;

       When, dazzled by the eastern glow,

       Such startler cast his glance below,

       And saw unmeasured depth around,

       And heard unintermitted sound,

       And thought the battled fence so frail,

       It waved like cobweb in the gale;

       Amid his senses’ giddy wheel,

       Did he not desperate impulse feel,

       Headlong to plunge himself below,

       And meet the worst his fears foreshow?—

       Thus Ellen, dizzy and astound,

       As sudden ruin yawned around,

       By crossing terrors wildly tossed,

       Still for the Douglas fearing most,

       Could scarce the desperate thought withstand,

       To buy his safety with her hand.

       XXXII

      Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy

       In Ellen’s quivering lip and eye,

       And eager rose to speak,—but ere

       His tongue could hurry forth his fear,

       Had Douglas marked the hectic strife,

       Where death seemed combating with life;

       For to her cheek, in feverish flood,

       One instant rushed the throbbing blood,

       Then ebbing back, with sudden sway,

       Left its domain as wan as clay.

       ‘Roderick, enough! enough!’ he cried,

       ‘My daughter cannot be thy bride;

       Not that the blush to wooer dear,

       Nor paleness that of maiden fear.

       It may not be,—forgive her,

       Chief, Nor hazard aught for our relief.

       Against his sovereign, Douglas ne’er

       Will level a rebellious spear.

       ‘T was I that taught his youthful hand

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