Book I.] THE ARGENTINES. 47 



But not unharm'd — a lance's point 



Has found his breastplate's loosen'd joint, 



An axe has razed his crest ; 

 Yet still on Colonsay's fierce lord, 

 Who press'd the chase with gory sword. 



He rode with spear in rest, 

 And through his bloody tartans bored, 



And through his gallant breast. 

 Nail'd to the earth, the mountaineer 

 Yet writhed him up against the spear, 



And swung his broadsword round ! 

 — Stirrup, steel-boot, and cuish gave way. 

 Beneath that blow's tremendous sway, 



The blood gush'd from the wound ; 

 And the grim Lord of Colonsay 



Hath turn'd him on the ground. 

 And laugh'd in death-pang, that his blade 

 The mortal thrust so well repaid. 



Now toil'd the Bruce, the battle done. 

 To use his conquest boldly won ; 

 And gave command for horse and spear 

 To press the Southron's scatter'd rear. 

 Nor let his broken force combine, 

 — When the war-cry of Argentine 



Fell faintly on his ear ; 

 " Save, save his life," he cried, " O save 

 The kind, the noble, and the brave ! " 

 The squadrons round free passage gave, 



The wounded knight drew near ; 

 He raised his red cross * shield no more, 

 Helm, cuish, and breastplate stream'd with gore, 

 Yet, as he saw the king advance, 

 He strove e'en then to couch his lance — 



The effort was in vain ! 

 The spur-stroke fail'd to rouse the horse ; 

 Wounded and weary, in mid course 

 He stumbled on the plain. 

 Then foremost was the generous Bruce 

 To raise his head, his helm to loose ; — 



" Lord Earl, the day is thine ! 



" My Sovereign's charge, and adverse fate, 

 Have made our meeting all too late ; 

 Yet this may Argentine, 



* This is obviously wrong. The Argentine arms were Gu.^ three 

 covered cups. Arg. 



