The lady of the lake . peep, THE COMBAT. 209 And in the plovers shrilly strainThe signal whistle heard breathed he free till far behindThe pass was left; for then they windAlong a wide and level green,Where neither tree nor tuft was seen,Nor rush nor bush of broom was near,To hide a bonnet or a spear. XII. The Chief in siience strode before, And reached that torrents sounding shore, Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, From Vennachar in silver breaks, Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines On Bochastle the mouldering lines, Where Rome, the Empress of the world, Of yore her e
The lady of the lake . peep, THE COMBAT. 209 And in the plovers shrilly strainThe signal whistle heard breathed he free till far behindThe pass was left; for then they windAlong a wide and level green,Where neither tree nor tuft was seen,Nor rush nor bush of broom was near,To hide a bonnet or a spear. XII. The Chief in siience strode before, And reached that torrents sounding shore, Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, From Vennachar in silver breaks, Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines On Bochastle the mouldering lines, Where Rome, the Empress of the world, Of yore her eagle wings unfurled. And here his course the Chieftain stayed, Threw down his target and his plaid, And to the Lowland warrior said: Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, This head of a rebellious clan, Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward. Far past Clan-Alpines outmost guard. Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 210 THE LADY OF THE A Chieftains vengeance thou shalt , here all vantageless I stand,Armed like thyself with single brand;For this is Coilantogle ford,And thou must keep thee with thy sword. XIII. The Saxon paused : I neer delayed,When foeman bade me draw my blade; THE COMBAT. 211 Nay more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death ; Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, And my deep debt for life preserved, A better meed have well deserved : Can nought but blood our feud atone ? Are there no means ? — No, stranger, none! And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; For thus spoke Fate by prophet bred Between the living and the dead: Who spills the foremost foemans life, His party conquers in the strife. Then, by my wdrd, the Saxon said, The riddle is already read. Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. Thus Fate hath solved her prophecy; Then yield to Fate, and not to me. To James at Stirling let us go, Wh
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidladyoflak00s, bookyear1894
