CANTO III. (As when, beneath the night's tempestuous cloud)

As when, beneath the night's tempestuous cloud, Embattl'd winds assail the leafy wood; Tear on their fable way with awful sound, And bring the groaning forest to the ground: The trunks of elms, the shrub, the fir, the oak, In one confusion sink beneath the shock. So death's sad spoils the bloody field bestrow'd; The haughty chieftain, the ignoble croud, The coward, brave, partake the common wound, Are friends in death, and mingle on the ground.

Dark night approach'd.—the flaming lord of day. Had plung'd his glowing circle in the sea. On the blue sky the gath'ring clouds arise, And tempests clap their wings along the skies. The murm'ring voice of heav'n, at distance, fails, And eddying whirl-winds howl along the vales. The sky inwrapt in awful darkness low'rs, And threatens to descend, at once, in show'rs.

The CALEDONIAN chiefs, to shun the storm, Beneath a leafy oak their council form. An antient trunk supports the weary king; The nobles bend around the standing ring. With swords unsheath'd the awful forms appear'd, Their shining arms with DANISH blood besmear'd: Their eyes shoot fire; their meins unsettled shew, The battle frowns as yet upon their brow. The monarch rose, and leaning on the oak, Stretch'd out his hand, and to the nobles spoke. "My lords! the DANES, for so just heav'n decreed, Ev'n on that shore they thought to conquer, bleed. In vain Death wrapt our fathers in his gloom, We raise them, in our actions, from the tomb. Not infamous their aim, o'er lands afar To spread destruction and the plague of war; To meet the sons of battle as they roam, Content to ward them from their native home; To shew invaders that they dar'd to die, For barren rocks, for fame and liberty. In you they live, fall'n DENMARK's host may shew: Accept my thanks; your country thanks you too."

He added not: but turn'd his eyes around, Till in the ring the valiant youth he found. "Approach, brave youth!" the smiling monarch cry'd, "Your country's soldier, and your country's pride. SCOTLAND shall thank thee for this gallant strife, While grateful INDULPH owes to thee his life."

Thus he, advancing,—and with ardour prest The gallant warrior to his royal breast. The unpresumptuous ALPIN bends his eyes, And mix'd with blushes to the king replies.

"To save our king, our country's antient throne, Are debts incumbent on her ev'ry son; O monarch! add it not to ALPIN's praise, That, of this gen'ral debt, his part he pays." Thus said the youth, and modestly retir'd, While, as he moves, the king and chiefs admir'd: Slow to his stand his easy steps he bears, And hears his praises with unwilling ears.

The king resumes.—"O chiefs, O valiant peers! Glad CALEDONIA dries her running tears: The warrior rais'd his faulchion o'er her head Now sleeps, forgotten, on an earthen bed. Fierce SCANDINAVIA's fatal storms are o'er, Her thunder-bolts lie harmless on the shore. But as when, after night, has beat a storm, On the mild morn some spots the sky deform; The broken clouds from ev'ry quarter sail, Join their black troops, and all the heav'ns veil; The winds arise, descends the sluicy rain, The storm, with force redoubl'd, beats the plain: So, when the youthful HACO shall afar Collect the broken fragments of the war, The Hero, arm'd with SUENO's death, may come And claim an expiation on his tomb; Deep in that wood the gallant warrior lies Who shall, to night, his little camp surprize; Surround the martial DANE with nightly care, And give the final stroke to dying war: Hence NORWAY's ships shall shun our fatal sea, And point the crooked beak another way; If chance they spy where oft their armies fell, Shall turn the prow, and croud away the sail."

He said no more: the gen'rous chiefs arise, Bent on the glory of the enterprize. Eager to climb thro' dang'rous paths to fame, The nightly war they severally claim. One chief observ'd where godlike HACO lay; This knew the wood;—and that, the dusky way: Another urg'd his more unweary'd friends; And ev'ry chieftain something recommends.

Thus for the arduous task the chiefs contest, While each wou'd grasp the danger to his breast. Th' attentive monarch heard their brave debates, And, with a secret joy, his soul dilates.

Young ALPIN burns to urge the war of night, To mix again with HACO in the fight. Eager he stood, and thus the chiefs adrest, The warrior lab'ring in his manly breast; "King, gallant chiefs!—this enterprize I claim; Here let me fix my unestablish'd fame. Already you have beat her arduous path, Reapt glorious harvests in the fields of death: Repeated feats fix'd fame within your pow'r, But I gleam once, then sink, and am no more, Nor am I wholly ign'rant of the fight, I've urg'd the gloomy battles of the night: Aebudae's chief once touch'd on ABRIA'S strand, And swept our mountains with his pilf'ring band; All day they drove our cattle to the sea, I went at midnight and rescu'd the prey; With a poor handful, and a faithful sword, Dispers'd the robbers and their haughty lord. 'Twas I commanded—these the gallant men! May we not act that mid-night o'er again?"

The Hero spoke; a murm'ring voice ensu'd Of loud applause.—each Hero's mind subdued, The glorious danger to the youth resigns: He tow'rs along, and marshals up his lines. Some gallant youths, to share his fame, arise, And mingle in the glorious enterprize.

The warrior-band move on in firm array, He tow'rs before along the sounding sea. Thro' their tall spears the singing tempest raves, And, falling headlong on the spumy waves, Pursues the ridgy sea with awful roar, And throws the liquid mountains on the shore. In each short pause, before the billow breaks, The clanking CALEDONIAN armour speaks.

Thus on some night when sable tempests roar, The watchman wearying of his lonely hour, Hears some rent branch to squeak 'twixt ev'ry blast, But in each ruder gust the creak is lost.

The king and gallant chiefs, with wishful eyes, Pursue the youthful warrior as he flies. His praise thro' all the noble circle ran— Approach'd the ghastly figure of a man: His visage pale; his loeks are bleach'd with years; His tott'ring steps he onward scarcely bears: His limbs are lac'd with blood, a hideous sight! And his wet garments shed the tears of night. With slow approach he lifts his fading eyes, And rais'd the squeaking treble of his voice. "O king! I feel the leaden hand of death, To the dark tomb I tread the gen'ral path: Hear me, O king! for this I left the field, For this to thee my dying form reveal'd: NORWAY in vain had interpos'd her flood, I come, alas! to pay the debt of blood. Possest of crimes, which the good king pursu'd, In fell conspiracy, unblest! I vow'd With fierce DOVALUS; that I live to tell! By us, by us, the great king MALCOLM fell! Touch'd with remorse, behind my shield I laid. His smiling child, and wrapt him in my plaid. Now to the sea we urge our rapid flight, Beneath the guilty mantle of the night. Still in my arms I little DUFFUS bear; Behind the voice of men, and arms we hear, My comrades fly.—I lay the infant down, And with my guilty life from vengeance run, They found him, sav'd him; for I knew the voice; It was—he said, and clos'd at once his eyes; Slowly inclin'd, and, tumbling headlong down, His guilty life breath'd in a feeble groan."

The mournful monarch stood in dumb surprise; The fate of MALCOLM fill'd afresh his eyes. He folds his arms, and bends his silent look, Then, starting from the gloom of sorrow, spoke. "You see, my lords, tho' DENMARK'S hostile state Long sav'd the traitors from the hand of fate; Yet heav'n, who rules with equal sway beneath, Snatch'd from her arms a victim due to death; DOVALUS shall not sink among the dead, But with that vengeance hangs o'er treason's head. Still, MALCOLM, still, thou gen'rous, and thou best! Thy fate hangs heavy on a brother's breast; You left a young, you left a helpless son, But lost to me, to SCOTLAND, and his throne. Perhaps, opprest with hunger and with cold, He 'tends some peasant's cattle to the fold; Or fights a common soldier on the field, And bows beneath the scepter he should wield." No more he said; the noble circle sigh'd, They droop the silent head, nor aught reply'd.

Now dy'd apace the occidental light; The subject world receives the flood of night. The king from ev'ry side his troops recalls; They fall around and rear their manly walls. He issues to return the great command, They move along, and leave the fatal strand. The city gain'd, each soldier's weary breast Forgets the day, and sooths his toil with rest.

The king receives, with hospitable care, The gallant chiefs, and drowns in wine the war. Within the royal hall the nobles sat; The royal hall, in simple nature great. No pigmy art, with little mimickry, Distracts the sense, or pains the weary eye: Shields, spears and helms in beauteous order shone, Along the walls of uncemented stone. Here all the noble warriors crown the bowl, And with the gen'rous nectar warm the soul; With social talk steal lazy time away, Recounting all the dangers of the day: They turn to ALPIN, and the gloomy fight, And tost the gallant warrior of the night.

Mean time young ALPIN 'girts the fatal wood, And longs to mix again with DANISH blood. Already HACO had, with martial care, With walls of oak embrac'd an ample square: Himself beneath a tree, the storm defends, And keeps in arms, around, his watchful friends.

The fair Aurelia by the hero's side, An awful warrior, and a blooming bride, Who plac'd in martial deeds her virgin-care, Wields in her snowy hand the ashen spear. A silver mail hung round her slender waist, The corslet rises on her heaving breast. On her white arm the brazen buckler shows, The shining helm embrac'd her marble brows; Her twining ringlets, flowing down behind, Sung grateful music to the nightly wind.

Fate was unkind; just as the lovers wed, Nor yet had tasted of the nuptial bed; Great SUENO's trumpet call'd the youth to war, He sigh'd, embrac'd, and left the weeping fair. With love embolden'd, up the virgin rose, From her soft breast the native woman throws; And with the gallant warrior clothes the wife, Following her HACO to the bloody strife.

She sought her love thro' war's destructive path, And often turn'd from him the hand of death. The chief, attentive, all the youth survey'd, And in the warrior found the lovely maid. She leans, inclining, on her martial spear, And only for the youth employs her fear.

The valiant SCOT assails the oaken wall: The bulwark groans, the brave defenders fall. With sounding steel the firm barrier he ply'd, And pour'd his warriors in on ev'ry side. The godlike HACO rushing thro' the night, Now here, now there oppos'd th' invaders might, To ev'ry corner gave divided aid, Still, still supported by the martial maid.

Thus when the ocean, swelling o'er the strand, Invades with billowy troops the subject land; The sed'lous swains the earthen weight oppose, And fill the fissures where the tempest flows. So valiant HACO flew to ev'ry side, And stemm'd with pointed steel the manly tide; With great effort preserv'd the narrow field, And 'twixt the fair and danger kept the shield. She, only she, employs the Hero's care; HACO forgot, he only thinks on her. He longs to sink with glory to the dead, But can he leave in grief the captive maid? Her dying image hags his fancy's eyes, What shou'd he do, if fair AUSELIA dies? Love, mighty love, arrested all his pow'r; He wish'd for flight who never fled before.

But as the lioness, to save her young, Despises death, and meets the hunter-throng; So, starting from the sable maze of care, He faces death, and shields the lovely fair. The martial maid with equal love possest Wou'd dart 'twixt danger and her HACO's breast; Oppose her buckler to the listed spear, And turn from him the iron hand of war.

Now godlike AIPIN hew'd his bloody path Thro' DANISH ranks, and mark'd his steps with death. Th' inclosed square with desp'rate hand he shears, And reaps a bloody field of men and spears. Groans, crashing steel, and clangour of the fight, Increase the stormy chorus of the night.

The DANES, diminish'd, meet th' unequal war, Where two fall'n oaks confine an inner square: Join their broad shields, the close-wedg'd column rear, And on the SCOTTISH battle turn the spear. On ev'ry side the CALEDONIANS close, Hemming the desp'rate phalanx of the foes, To give the final stroke to battle, croud: While HACO thus bespoke the DANES aloud; "Ye sons of North, unfortunate, tho' brave! Here fate has marked out our common grave; Has doom'd our bodies to enrich these plains: Then die reveng'd—like warriors and like DANES!"

He spoke, and turning to the martial maid, Embrac'd her softly, and thus, sighing, said; "Shall then my spouse, my love, my only joy, Shall fair AURELIA with her HACO die! Thy death afflicts me.—I in vain complain; I'll save AURELLA, or expire—a DANE!" He said, and gath'ring up his spacious shield Prepar'd to meet the battle in the field.

Young ALPIN heard.—It touch'd his feeling breast, He stopt the war, and thus the DANE addrest. "Our CALEDONIA, now reliev'd of fear, Feels pity rising in the place of care; Disdains to tyrannize o'er vanquish'd foes, And for her steel on them her pity throws. I now disiniss brave HACO from the field, And own the gen'rous present of the shield." He said:—his thanks returns the royal DANE, Himself escorts them to the sounding main.

A ship escap'd the flame, within a bay, Where bending rocks exclude the rougher sea, Secure from stormy winds in fafety rides, And slowly nods on the recoiling tides; Thither they bend, and launching to the sea, Plow with the crooked beak the wat'ry way; Their sable journey to the North explore, And leave their sleeping friends upon the shore,