XXIX.
The mistress of the mansion came,
Mature of age, a graceful dame;
Whose easy step and stately port
Had well become a princely court;
To whom, though more than kindred knew,[70]
Young Ellen gave a mother’s due.
Meet welcome to her guest she made,
And every courteous rite was paid
That hospitality could claim,
Though all unask’d his birth and name.
Such then the reverence to a guest,
That fellest[71] foe might join the feast,
And from his deadliest foeman’s door
Unquestion’d turn, the banquet o’er.
At length his rank the stranger names,
“The Knight of Snowdoun,[72] James Fitz-James;[73]
Lord of a barren heritage,[74]
Which his brave sires, from age to age,
By their good swords had held with toil;
His sire had fall’n in such turmoil,
And he, God wot,[75] was forced to stand
Oft for his right with blade in hand.
This morning with Lord Moray’s[76] train
He chased a stalwart stag in vain,
Outstripp’d his comrades, miss’d the deer,
Lost his good steed, and wander’d here.”