Scott's Lady of the Lake

by Walter Scott

But out then spoke she, Alice Brand,

That woman void of fear,—

"And if there’s blood upon his hand,

’Tis but the blood of deer.”—

“Now loud thou liest, thou bold of mood!

It cleaves unto his hand,

The stain of thine own kindly[250] blood,

The blood of Ethert Brand.”

Then forward stepp’d she, Alice Brand,

And made the holy sign,—