No More Learning

But none shared the general feeling of dissatisfaction so keenly
as Cedric the Saxon, who saw, in each advantage gained by the
Norman challengers, a repeated triumph over the honor of Eng-
land. His own education had taught him no skill in the games


## p. 13040 (#474) ##########################################

13040
SIR WALTER SCOTT
of chivalry; although with the arms of his Saxon ancestors he
had manifested himself, on many occasions, a brave and deter-
mined soldier. He looked anxiously to Athelstane, who had
learned the accomplishments of the age, as if desiring that he
should make some personal effort to recover the victory which
was passing into the hands of the Templar and his associates.
But though both stout of heart and strong of person, Athelstane
had a disposition too inert and unambitious to make the exer-
tions which Cedric seemed to expect from him.
"The day is against England, my lord," said Cedric in a
marked tone: are you not tempted to take the lance? »
"I shall tilt to-morrow," answered Athelstane, "in the mêlée;
it is not worth while for me to arm myself to-day. "
Two things displeased Cedric in this speech. It contained
the Norman word mêlée (to express the general conflict), and it
evinced some indifference to the honor of the country; but it
was spoken by Athelstane, whom he held in such profound
respect that he would not trust himself to canvass his motives
or his foibles. Moreover, he had no time to make any remark;
for Wamba thrust in his word, observing "it was better, though
scarce easier, to be the best man among a hundred than the
best man of two. "
Athelstane took the observation as a serious compliment: but
Cedric, who better understood the Jester's meaning, darted at
him a severe and menacing look; and lucky it was for Wamba,
perhaps, that the time and place prevented his receiving, not-
withstanding his place and service, more sensible marks of his
master's resentment.
The pause in the tournament was still uninterrupted, except-
ing by the voices of the heralds exclaiming, "Love of ladies,
splintering of lances! Stand forth, gallant knights: fair eyes look
upon your deeds! "
The music also of the challengers breathed from time to time
wild bursts expressive of triumph or defiance, while the clowns
grudged a holiday which seemed to pass away in inactivity; and
old knights and nobles lamented in whispers the decay of martial
spirit, spoke of the triumphs of their younger days, but agreed
that the land did not now supply dames of such transcendent
beauty as had animated the jousts of former times. Prince
John began to talk to his attendants about making ready the


## p. 13041 (#475) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13041
banquet, and the necessity of adjudging the prize to Brian de
Bois-Guilbert, who had with a single spear overthrown two
knights and foiled a third.
At length, as the Saracenic music of the challengers concluded
one of those long and high flourishes with which they had broken.
the silence of the lists, it was answered by a solitary trumpet,
which breathed a note of defiance from the northern extremity.
All eyes were turned to see the new champion which these
sounds announced, and no sooner were the barriers opened than
he paced into the lists. As far as could be judged of a man
sheathed in armor, the new adventurer did not greatly exceed
the middle size, and seemed to be rather slender than strongly
made. His suit of armor was formed of steel, richly inlaid with
gold; and the device on his shield was a young oak-tree pulled
up by the roots, with the Spanish word Desdichado, signifying
Disinherited. He was mounted on a gallant black horse, and as
he passed through the lists he gracefully saluted the Prince and
the ladies by lowering his lance. The dexterity with which he
managed his steed, and something of youthful grace which he
displayed in his manner, won him the favor of the multitude,
which some of the lower classes expressed by calling out, "Touch
Ralph de Vipont's shield-touch the Hospitaler's shield: he has
the least sure seat, he is your cheapest bargain. "
The champion, moving onward amid these well-meant hints,
ascended the platform by the sloping alley which led to it from
the lists; and to the astonishment of all present, riding straight
up to the central pavilion, struck with the sharp end of his
spear the shield of Brian de Bois-Guilbert until it rung again.
All stood astonished at his presumption; but none more than the
redoubted knight whom he had thus defied to mortal combat,
and who, little expecting so rude a challenge, was standing care-
lessly at the door of the pavilion.
"Have you confessed yourself, brother," said the Templar,
"and have you heard mass this morning, that you peril your life
so frankly? "
"I am fitter to meet death than thou art," answered the Dis-
inherited Knight; for by this name the stranger had recorded
himself in the books of the tourney.
"Then take your place in the lists," said Bois-Guilbert, “and
look your last upon the sun; for this night thou shalt sleep in
Paradise. "
XXII-816


## p. 13042 (#476) ##########################################

13042
SIR WALTER SCOTT
"Gramercy for thy courtesy," replied the Disinherited Knight;
"and to requite it I advise thee to take a fresh horse and a new
lance, for by my honor you will need both. "
Having expressed himself thus confidently, he reined his horse
backward down the slope which he had ascended, and compelled
him in the same manner to move backward through the lists,
till he reached the northern extremity, where he remained sta-
tionary in expectation of his antagonist. This feat of horseman-
ship again attracted the applause of the multitude.
However incensed at his adversary for the precautions which
he recommended, Brian de Bois-Guilbert did not neglect his
advice; for his honor was too nearly concerned to permit his
neglecting any means which might insure victory over his pre-
sumptuous opponent. He changed his horse for a proved and
fresh one of great strength and spirit. He chose a new and
a tough spear, lest the wood of the former might have been
strained in the previous encounters he had sustained. Lastly he
laid aside his shield, which had received some little damage, and
received another from his squires. His first had only borne
the general device of his rider, representing two knights riding
upon one horse,— an emblem expressive of the original humility
and poverty of the Templars; qualities which they had since
exchanged for the arrogance and wealth that finally occasioned
their suppression. Bois-Guilbert's new shield bore a raven in full
flight, holding in its claws a skull, and bearing the motto, Gare
le Corbeau.
When the two champions stood opposed to each other at the
two extremities of the lists, the public expectation was strained
to the highest pitch. Few augured the possibility that the en-
counter could terminate well for the Disinherited Knight, yet
his courage and gallantry secured the general good wishes of the
spectators.
The trumpets had no sooner given the signal than the cham-
pions vanished from their posts with the speed of lightning, and
closed in the centre of the lists with the shock of a thunderbolt.
The lances burst into shivers up to the very grasp, and it seemed
at the moment that both knights had fallen, for the shock had
made each horse recoil backward upon his haunches. The ad-
dress of the riders recovered their steeds by use of the bridle
and spur; and having glared on each other for an instant with
eyes which seemed to flash fire through the bars of their visors,
•


## p. 13043 (#477) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13043
each made a demivolte, and retiring to the extremity of the lists,
received a fresh lance from the attendants.
A loud shout from the spectators, waving of scarfs and hand-
kerchiefs, and general acclamations, attested the interest taken
by the spectators in this encounter; the most equal, as well as
the best performed, which had graced the day. But no sooner
had the knights resumed their station, than the clamor of ap-
plause was hushed into a silence so deep and so dead that it
seemed the multitude were afraid even to breathe.
A few minutes' pause having been allowed, that the combat-
ants and their horses might recover breath, Prince John with his
truncheon signed to the trumpets to sound the onset. The cham-
pions a second time sprung from their stations, and closed in the
centre of the lists, with the same speed, the same dexterity, the
same violence, but not the same equal fortune as before.
In the second encounter the Templar aimed at the centre of
his antagonist's shield, and struck it so fair and forcibly that his
spear went to shivers, and the Disinherited Knight reeled in his
saddle. On the other hand, that champion had, in the begin-
ning of his career, directed the point of his lance toward Bois-
Guilbert's shield; but changing his aim almost in the moment of
encounter, he addressed it to the helmet,—a mark more difficult
to hit, but which if attained rendered the shock more irresisti-
ble. Fair and true he hit the Norman on the visor, where his
lance's point kept hold of the bars. Yet even at this disadvan-
tage, the Templar sustained his high reputation; and had not the
girths of his saddle burst, he might not have been unhorsed.
As it chanced, however, saddle, horse, and man rolled on the
ground under a cloud of dust.
To extricate himself from the stirrups and fallen steed was to
the Templar scarce the work of a moment; and stung with mad-
ness, both at his disgrace and at the acclamations with which it
was hailed by the spectators, he drew his sword and waved it in
defiance of his conqueror. The Disinherited Knight sprung from
his steed, and also unsheathed his sword. The marshals of the
field, however, spurred their horses between them, and reminded.
them that the laws of the tournament did not, on the present
occasion, permit this species of encounter.
"We shall meet again, I trust," said the Templar, casting a
resentful glance at his antagonist; "and where there are none to
separate us. "


## p. 13044 (#478) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13044
"If we do not," said the Disinherited Knight, "the fault shall
not be mine. On foot or horseback, with spear, with axe, or
with sword, I am alike ready to encounter thee. "
More and angrier words would have been exchanged; but the
marshals, crossing their lances betwixt them, compelled them to
separate. The Disinherited Knight returned to his first station,
and Bois-Guilbert to his tent, where he remained for the rest of
the day in an agony of despair.
Without alighting from his horse, the conqueror called for a
bowl of wine; and opening the beaver, or lower part of his hel-
met, announced that he quaffed it "To all true English hearts,
and to the confusion of foreign tyrants. " He then commanded
his trumpet to sound a defiance to the challengers; and desired
a herald to announce to them that he should make no election,
but was willing to encounter them in the order in which they
pleased to advance against him.
The gigantic Front-de-Boeuf, armed in sable armor, was the
first who took the field. He bore on a white shield a black bull's
head, half defaced by the numerous encounters which he had
undergone, and bearing the arrogant motto, Cave, adsum. Over
this champion the Disinherited Knight obtained a slight but
decisive advantage. Both knights broke their lances fairly; but
Front-de-Boeuf, who lost a stirrup in the encounter, was adjudged
to have the disadvantage.
In the stranger's third encounter, with Sir Philip Malvoisin,
he was equally successful; striking that baron so forcibly on the
casque that the laces of the helmet broke, and Malvoisin, only
saved from falling by being unhelmeted, was declared vanquished
like his companions.
In his fourth combat, with De Grantmesnil, the Disinherited
Knight showed as much courtesy as he had hitherto evinced
courage and dexterity. De Grantmesnil's horse, which was
young and violent, reared and plunged in the course of the
career so as to disturb the rider's aim; and the stranger, declin-
ing to take the advantage which this accident afforded him,
raised his lance, and passing his antagonist without touching
him, wheeled his horse and rode back again to his own end of
the lists, offering his antagonist by a herald the chance of a
second encounter. This De Grantmesnil declined, avowing him-
self vanquished as much by the courtesy as by the address of
his opponent.


## p. 13045 (#479) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13045
Ralph de Vipont summed up the list of the stranger's tri-
umphs, being hurled to the ground with such force that the
blood gushed from his nose and mouth; and he was borne sense-
less from the lists.
The acclamations of thousands applauded the unanimous award
of the prince and marshals, announcing that day's honors to the
Disinherited Knight.
THE HERMIT― FRIAR TUCK
From Ivanhoe ›
THE
HE anchorite, not caring again to expose his door to a similar
shock, now called out aloud, "Patience, patience-spare thy
strength, good traveler, and I will presently undo the door;
though it may be my doing so will be little to thy pleasure. "
The door accordingly was opened; and the hermit-a large,
strong-built man, in his sackcloth gown and hood, girt with a
rope of rushes-stood before the knight. He had in one hand
a lighted torch, or link; and in the other a baton of crab-tree,
so thick and heavy it might well be termed a club.
Two large
shaggy dogs, half greyhound, half mastiff, stood ready to rush
upon the traveler as soon as the door should be opened. But
when the torch glanced upon the lofty crest and golden spurs.
of the knight who stood without, the hermit-altering probably
his original intentions—repressed the rage of his auxiliaries, and
changing his tone to a sort of churlish courtesy, invited the
knight to enter his hut; making excuse for his unwillingness
to open his lodge after sunset by alleging the multitude of rob-
bers and outlaws who were abroad, and who gave no honor
to our Lady or St. Dustan, nor to those holy men who spent life
in their service.
"The poverty of your cell, good father," said the knight,
looking around him, and seeing nothing but a bed of leaves, a
crucifix rudely carved in oak, a missal, with a rough-hewn table
and two stools, and one or two clumsy articles of furniture,-
"the poverty of your cell should seem a sufficient defense against
any risk of thieves; not to mention the aid of two trusty dogs,
large and strong enough, I think, to pull down a stag, and of
course to match with most men. "


## p. 13046 (#480) ##########################################

13046
SIR WALTER SCOTT
"The good keeper of the forest," said the hermit, "hath al-
lowed me the use of these animals to protect my solitude until
the times shall mend. "
Having said this, he fixed his torch in a twisted branch of
iron which served for a candlestick; and placing the oaken trivet
before the embers of the fire, which he refreshed with some dry
wood, he placed a stool upon one side of the table and beckoned
to the knight to do the same upon the other.
They sat down and gazed with great gravity at each other,
each thinking in his heart that he had seldom seen a stronger or
more athletic figure than was placed opposite to him.
"Reverend hermit," said the knight, after looking long and
fixedly at his host, "were it not to interrupt your devout medi-
tations, I would pray to know three things of your Holiness:
first, where I am to put my horse? secondly, what I can have
for supper? thirdly, where I am to take up my couch for the
night? "
"I will reply to you," said the hermit, "with my finger: it
being against my rule to speak by words where signs can an-
swer the purpose. " So saying, he pointed successively to two
corners of the hut. "Your stable," said he, "is there-your
bed there; and-" reaching down a platter with two handfuls of
parched pease upon it from the neighboring shelf, and placing it
upon the table, he added-"your supper is here. "
The knight, shrugged his shoulders; and leaving the hut,
brought in his horse (which in the interim he had fastened to a
tree), unsaddled him with much attention, and spread upon the
steed's weary back his own mantle.
The hermit was apparently somewhat moved to compassion
by the anxiety as well as address which the stranger displayed
in tending his horse; for, muttering something about proven-
der left for the keeper's palfrey, he dragged out of a recess a
bundle of forage, which he spread before the knight's charger,
and immediately afterward shook down a quantity of dried
fern in the corner which he had assigned for the rider's couch.
The knight returned him thanks for his courtesy; and this duty
done, both resumed their seats by the table, whereon stood the
trencher of pease placed between them. The hermit, after a
long grace, which had once been Latin, but of which original
language few traces remained, excepting here and there the long
rolling termination of some word or phrase,-set example to his
-


## p. 13047 (#481) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13047
guest by modestly putting into a very large mouth, furnished
with teeth which might have ranked with those of a boar both in
sharpness and whiteness, some three or four dried pease; a mis-
erable grist, as it seemed, for so large and able a mill.
The knight, in order to follow so laudable an example, laid
aside his helmet, his corselet, and the greater part of his armor;
and showed to the hermit a head thick-curled with yellow
hair, high features, blue eyes remarkably bright and sparkling, a
mouth well formed, having an upper lip clothed with mustaches
darker than his hair, and bearing altogether the look of at
bold, daring, and enterprising man, with which his strong form
well corresponded.
The hermit, as if wishing to answer to the confidence of his
guest, threw back his cowl, and showed a round bullet head
belonging to a man in the prime of life. His close-shaven crown,
surrounded by a circle of stiff curled black hair, had something
the appearance of a parish pinfold begirt by its high hedge.
The features expressed nothing of monastic austerity or of ascetic
privations; on the contrary, it was a bold, bluff countenance,
with broad black eyebrows, a well-turned forehead, and cheeks
as round and vermilion as those of a trumpeter, from which
descended a long and curly black beard. Such a visage, joined
to the brawny form of the holy man, spoke rather of sirloins and
haunches than of pease and pulse. This incongruity did not
escape the guest. After he had with great difficulty accomplished
the mastication of a mouthful of the dried pease, he found it
absolutely necessary to request his pious entertainer to furnish
him with some liquor; who replied to his request by placing
before him a large can of the purest water from the fountain.
"It is from the well of St. Dunstan," said he, "in which,
betwixt sun and sun, he baptized five hundred heathen Danes
and Britons-blessed be his name! " And applying his black
beard to the pitcher, he took a draught much more moderate in
quantity than his encomium seemed to warrant.
"It seems to me, reverend father," said the knight, "that the
small morsels which you eat, together with this holy but some-
what thin beverage, have thriven with you marvelously. You
appear a man more fit to win the ram at a wrestling-match, or
the ring at a bout at quarter-staff, or the bucklers at a sword-
play, than to linger out your time in this desolate wilderness,
saying masses and living upon parched pease and cold water. "


## p. 13048 (#482) ##########################################

13048
SIR WALTER SCOTT
"Sir Knight," answered the hermit, "your thoughts, like those
of the ignorant laity, are according to the flesh. It has pleased
our Lady and my patron saint to bless the pittance to which I
restrain myself, even as the pulse and water were blessed to the
children Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who drank the same
rather than defile themselves with the wine and meats which
were appointed them by the king of the Saracens. "
"Holy father," said the knight, "upon whose countenance it
hath pleased Heaven to work such a miracle, permit a sinful
layman to crave thy name? »
"Thou mayest call me," answered the hermit, "the Clerk of
Copmanhurst, for so I am termed in these parts. They add, it
is true, the epithet holy; but I stand not upon that, as being
unworthy of such addition. And now, valiant knight, may I
pray thee for the name of my honorable guest? "
"Truly," said the knight, "Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst, men
call me in these parts the Black Knight; many, sir, add to it
the epithet of Sluggard, whereby I am no way ambitious to be
distinguished. "
The hermit could scarcely forbear from smiling at his guest's
reply.
"I see," said he, "Sir Sluggish Knight, that thou art a man
of prudence and of counsel; and moreover, I see that my poor
monastic fare likes thee not, accustomed perhaps as thou hast
been to the license of courts and camps, and the luxuries of
cities: and now I bethink me, Sir Sluggard, that when the
charitable keeper of this forest walk left these dogs for my pro-
tection, and also those bundles of forage, he left me also some
food, which, being unfit for my use, the very recollection of
it had escaped me amid my more weighty meditations. "
"I dare be sworn he did so," said the knight; "I was con-
vinced that there was better food in the cell, Holy Clerk, since
you first doffed your cowl. Your keeper is ever a jovial fellow;
and none who beheld thy grinders contending with these pease,
and thy throat flooded with this ungenial element, could see thee
doomed to such horse-provender and horse-beverage" (pointing
to the provisions upon the table), "and refrain from mending thy
Let us see the keeper's bounty, therefore, without delay. "
The hermit cast a wistful look upon the knight, in which
there was a sort of comic expression of hesitation, as if uncertain
how far he should act prudently in trusting his guest. There
-


## p. 13049 (#483) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13049
nance
was, however, as much of bold frankness in the knight's counte-
as was possible to be expressed by features. His smile
too had something in it irresistibly comic, and gave an assurance
of faith and loyalty with which his host could not refrain from
sympathizing.
After exchanging a mute glance or two, the hermit went to
the farther side of the hut and opened a hutch, which was con-
cealed with great care and some ingenuity. Out of the recesses
of a dark closet, into which this aperture gave admittance, he
brought a large pasty, baked in a pewter platter of unusual
dimensions. This mighty dish he placed before his guest; who,
using his poniard to cut it open, lost no time in making himself
acquainted with its contents.
"How long is it since the good keeper has been here? " said
the knight to his host, after having swallowed several hasty mor-
sels of this reinforcement to the hermit's good cheer.
"About two months," answered the father hastily.
"By the true Lord," answered the knight, "everything in
your hermitage is miraculous, Holy Clerk; for I would have been
sworn that the fat buck which furnished this venison had been
running on foot within the week. "
The hermit was somewhat discountenanced by this observa-
tion; and moreover, he had made but a poor figure while gazing
on the diminution of the pasty, on which his guest was making
dangerous inroads,-a warfare in which his previous profession
of abstinence left him no pretext for joining.
"I have been in Palestine, Sir Clerk," said the knight, stop-
ping short of a sudden, "and I bethink me it is a custom there
that every host who entertains a guest shall assure him of the
wholesomeness of his food by partaking of it along with him.
Far be it from me to suspect so holy a man of aught inhospita-
ble; nevertheless, I will be highly bound to you would you com-
ply with this Eastern custom. ”
"To ease your unnecessary scruples, Sir Knight, I will for
once depart from my rule," replied the hermit. And as there
were no forks in those days, his clutches were instantly in the
bowels of the pasty.
The ice of ceremony being once broken, it seemed matter
of rivalry between the guest and the entertainer which should
display the best appetite; and although the former had probably
fasted longest, yet the hermit fairly surpassed him.


## p. 13050 (#484) ##########################################

13050
SIR WALTER SCOTT
"Holy Clerk," said the knight, when his hunger was appeased,
"I would gage my good horse yonder against a zecchin, that
that same honest keeper to whom we are obliged for the venison
has left thee a stoup of wine, or a runlet of canary, or some
such trifle, by way of ally to this noble pasty. This would be
a circumstance, doubtless, totally unworthy to dwell in the mem-
ory of so rigid an anchorite; yet I think were you to search
yonder crypt once more, you would find that I am right in my
conjecture. "
The hermit replied by a grin; and returning to the hutch, he
produced a leathern bottle, which might contain about four quarts.
He also brought forth two large drinking-cups, made out of the
horn of the urus, and hooped with silver. Having made this
goodly provision for washing down the supper, he seemed to
think no further ceremonious scruple necessary on his part; but
filling both cups, and saying in the Saxon fashion, "Waes hael,
Sir Sluggish Knight! " he emptied his own at a draught.
"Drink hael, Holy Clerk of Copmanhurst! " answered the war-
rior, and did his host reason in a similar brimmer.
"Holy Clerk," said the stranger, after the first cup was thus
swallowed, "I cannot but marvel that a man possessed of such
thews and sinews as thine, and who therewithal shows the talent
of so goodly a trencherman, should think of abiding by himself
in this wilderness. In my judgment you are fitter to keep a
castle or a fort, eating of the fat and drinking of the strong,
than to live here upon pulse and water, or even upon the
charity of the keeper. At least were I as thou, I should find
myself both disport and plenty out of the king's deer. There is
many a goodly herd in these forests, and a buck will never be
missed that goes to the use of St. Dunstan's chaplain. "
"Sir Sluggish Knight," replied the clerk, "these are danger-
ous words, and I pray you to forbear them. I am true hermit
to the King and law; and were I to spoil my liege's game I
should be sure of the prison, and, an my gown saved me not,
were in some peril of hanging. "
"Nevertheless, were I as thou," said the knight, "I would
take my walk by moonlight, when foresters and keepers were
warm in bed, and ever and anon - as I pattered my prayers—I
would let fly a shaft among the herds of dun deer that feed in
the glades. Resolve me, Holy Clerk, hast thou never practiced
such a pastime? "


## p. 13051 (#485) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13051
"Friend Sluggard," answered the hermit, "thou hast seen all
that can concern thee of my housekeeping, and something more
than he deserves who takes up his quarters by violence. Credit
me, it is better to enjoy the good which God sends thee than
to be impertinently curious how it comes. Fill thy cup and wel-
come; and do not, I pray thee, by further impertinent inquiries,
put me to show that thou couldst hardly have made good thy
lodging had I been earnest to oppose thee. "
"By my faith," said the knight, "thou makest me more curi-
ous than ever! Thou art the most mysterious hermit I ever
met; and I will know more of thee ere we part. As for thy
threats, know, holy man, thou speakest to one whose trade it is
to find out danger wherever it is to be met with. "
"Sir Sluggish Knight, I drink to thee," said the hermit,-
"respecting thy valor much, but deeming wondrous slightly of
thy discretion. If thou wilt take equal arms with me, I will
give thee, in all friendship and brotherly love, such sufficing
penance and complete absolution that thou shalt not for the next
twelve months sin the sin of excess and curiosity. '
The knight pledged him, and desired him to name his weap-
ons.
―
"There is none," replied the hermit, "from the scissors of
Delilah and the tenpenny nail of Jael, to the scimitar of Goliah,
at which I am not a match for thee. But if I am to make the
election, what sayest thou, good friend, to these trinkets? "
Thus speaking, he opened another hutch and took out from it
a couple of broadswords and bucklers, such as were used by the
yeomanry of the period. The knight, who watched his motions,
observed that this second place of concealment was furnished
with two or three good long-bows, a cross-bow, a bundle of bolts
for the latter, and half a dozen sheaves of arrows for the former.
A harp and other matters of very uncanonical appearance were
also visible when this dark recess was opened.
"I promise thee, brother clerk," said he, "I will ask thee no
more offensive questions. The contents of that cupboard are an
answer to all my inquiries; and I see a weapon there" (here he
stooped and took out the harp) "on which I would more gladly
prove my skill with thee than at the sword and buckler. "
"I hope, Sir Knight," said the hermit, "thou hast given no
good reason for thy surname of the Sluggard. I do promise thee
I suspect thee grievously. Nevertheless, thou art my guest, and


## p. 13052 (#486) ##########################################

13052
SIR WALTER SCOTT
I will not put thy manhood to the proof without thine own free
will. Sit thee down, then, and fill thy cup; let us drink, sing,
and be merry.
If thou knowest ever a good lay, thou shalt be
welcome to a nook of pasty at Copmanhurst so long as I serve
the chapel of St. Dunstan,- which, please God, shall be till I
change my gray covering for one of green turf. But come, fill
a flagon, for it will crave some time to tune the harp; and
naught pitches the voice and sharpens the ear like a cup of wine.
For my part, I love to feel the grape at my very finger-ends
before they make the harp-strings tinkle. "
RICHARD AND SALADIN
From The Talisman'
THE
HE two heroic monarchs- for such they both were-threw
themselves at once from horseback; and the troops halting
and the music suddenly ceasing, they advanced to meet
each other in profound silence, and after a courteous inclination
on either side they embraced as brethren and equals. The pomp
and display upon both sides attracted no further notice; no one
saw aught save Richard and Saladin, and they too beheld noth-
ing but each other. The looks with which Richard surveyed
Saladin were, however, more intently curious than those which
the Soldan fixed upon him; and the Soldan also was the first to
break silence.
"The Melech Ric is welcome to Saladin as water to this des-
ert. I trust he hath no distrust of this numerous array. Except-
ing the armed slaves of my household, those who surround you
with eyes of wonder and of welcome are, even the humblest of
them, the privileged nobles of my thousand tribes; for who that
could claim a title to be present would remain at home when
such a prince was to be seen as Richard,-with the terrors
of whose name, even on the sands of Yemen, the nurse stills
her child, and the free Arab subdues his restive steed! "
"And these are all nobles of Araby? " said Richard, looking
around on wild forms with their persons covered with haicks,
their countenances swart with the sunbeams, their teeth as white
as ivory, their black eyes glancing with fierce and preternatural
lustre from under the shade of their turbans, and their dress
being in general simple even to meanness.


## p. 13053 (#487) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13053
"They claim such rank," said Saladin; "but though numer-
ous, they are within the conditions of the treaty, and bear no
arms but the sabre-even the iron of their lances is left behind. "
"I fear," muttered De Vaux in English, "they have left them
where they can be soon found. -A most flourishing house of
Peers, I confess, and would find Westminster Hall something too
narrow for them. "
"Hush, De Vaux," said Richard, "I command thee. -Noble
Saladin," he said, "suspicion and thou cannot exist on the
same ground. Seest thou," pointing to the litters,-"I too have
brought some champions with me, though armed perhaps in
breach of agreement; for bright eyes and fair features are weap-
ons which cannot be left behind. "
The Soldan, turning to the litters, made an obeisance as lowly
as if looking toward Mecca, and kissed the sand in token of
respect.
"Nay," said Richard, "they will not fear a closer encounter,
brother: wilt thou not ride toward their litters? —and the cur-
tains will be presently withdrawn. "
"That may Allah prohibit! " said Saladin, "since not an Arab
looks on who would not think it shame to the noble ladies to be
seen with their faces uncovered. "
"Thou shalt see them, then, in private, brother," answered
Richard.
"To what purpose? " answered Saladin, mournfully. "Thy
last letter was, to the hopes which I had entertained, like water
to fire; and wherefore should I again light a flame which may
indeed consume, but cannot cheer me? -But will not my brother
pass to the tent which his servant hath prepared for him? My
principal black slave hath taken order for the reception of the
princesses; the officers of my household will attend your follow-
ers; and ourself will be the chamberlain of the royal Richard. ”
He led the way accordingly to a splendid pavilion, where was
everything that royal luxury could devise. De Vaux, who was
in attendance, then removed the chappe (capa), or long riding-
cloak which Richard wore; and he stood before Saladin in the
close dress which showed to advantage the strength and sym-
metry of his person, while it bore a strong contrast to the flow-
ing robes which disguised the thin frame of the Eastern monarch.
It was Richard's two-handed sword that chiefly attracted the
attention of the Saracen,-a broad, straight blade, the seemingly


## p. 13054 (#488) ##########################################

13054
SIR WALTER SCOTT
unwieldy length of which extended well-nigh from the shoulder
to the heel of the wearer.
"Had I not," said Saladin, "seen this brand flaming in the
front of battle, like that of Azrael, I had scarce believed that
human arm could wield it. Might I request to see the Melech
Ric strike one blow with it in peace, and in pure trial of
strength? »
"Willingly, noble Saladin," answered Richard; and looking
around for something whereon to exercise his strength, he saw
a steel mace, held by one of the attendants, the handle being of
the same metal, and about an inch and a half in diameter: this
he placed on a block of wood.
The anxiety of De Vaux for his master's honor led him to
whisper in English, "For the Blessed Virgin's sake, beware what
you attempt, my liege! Your full strength is not as yet returned:
give no triumph to the infidel. "
"Peace, fool! " said Richard, standing firm on his ground,
and casting a fierce glance around: "thinkest thou that I can fail
in his presence? "
The glittering broadsword, wielded by both his hands, rose
aloft to the King's left shoulder, circled round his head, de-
scended with the sway of some terrific engine, and the bar of
iron rolled on the ground in two pieces, as a woodsman would
sever a sapling with a hedging-bill.
"By the head of the Prophet, a most wonderful blow! " said
the Soldan, critically and accurately examining the iron bar
which had been cut asunder; and the blade of the sword was so
well tempered as to exhibit not the least token of having suffered
by the feat it had performed. He then took the King's hand,
and looking on the size and muscular strength which it exhib-
ited, laughed as he placed it beside his own, so lank and thin, so
inferior in brawn and sinew.
"Ay, look well," said De Vaux in English: "it will be long
ere your long jackanapes fingers do such a feat with your fine
gilded reaping-hook there. "
"Silence, De Vaux," said Richard: "by our Lady, he under-
stands or guesses thy meaning; be not so broad, I pray thee. "
The Soldan indeed presently said, "Something I would fain
attempt though wherefore should the weak show their inferi
ority in presence of the strong? Yet each land hath its own
exercises, and this may be new to the Melech Ric. " So saying,


## p. 13055 (#489) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13055
he took from the floor a cushion of silk and down, and placed it
upright on one end. "Can thy weapon, my brother, sever that
cushion? " he said to King Richard.
"No, surely," replied the King: "no sword on earth, were it
the Excalibar of King Arthur, can cut that which opposes no
steady resistance to the blow. "
"Mark, then," said Saladin; and tucking up the sleeve of his
gown, showed his arm, thin indeed and spare, but which con-
stant exercise had hardened into a mass consisting of naught but
bone, brawn, and sinew. He unsheathed his scimitar; a curved
and narrow blade, which glittered not like the swords of the
Franks, but was on the contrary of a dull-blue color, marked
with ten millions of meandering lines which showed how anx-
iously the metal had been welded by the armorer. Wielding
this weapon, apparently so inefficient when compared to that of
Richard, the Soldan stood resting his weight upon his left foot,
which was slightly advanced; he balanced himself a little as if to
steady his aim; then stepping at once forward, drew the scimitar
across the cushion, applying the edge so dexterously and with so
little apparent effort that the cushion seemed rather to fall asun-
der than to be divided by violence.
"It is a juggler's trick," said De Vaux, darting forward and
snatching up the portion of the cushion which had been cut off,
as if to assure himself of the reality of the feat,-"there is gram-
arye in this. "
The Soldan seemed to comprehend him; for he undid the
sort of veil which he had hitherto worn, laid it double along the
edge of his sabre, extended the weapon edgeways in the air,
and drawing it suddenly through the veil, although it hung on
the blade entirely loose, severed that also into two parts, which
floated to different sides of the tent,-equally displaying the
extreme temper and sharpness of the weapon, and the exquisite
dexterity of him who used it.
"Now, in good faith, my brother," said Richard, "thou art
even matchless at the trick of the sword, and right perilous were
it to meet thee! Still, however, I put some faith in a down-
right English blow; and what we cannot do by sleight, we eke
out by strength. Nevertheless, in truth thou art as expert in
inflicting wounds as my sage Hakim in curing them. I trust 1
shall see the learned leech: I have much to thank him for, and
had brought some small present. "


## p. 13056 (#490) ##########################################

13056
SIR WALTER SCOTT
As he spoke, Saladin exchanged his turban for a Tartar cap.
He had no sooner done so, than De Vaux opened at once his
extended mouth and his large round eyes, and Richard gazed
with scarce less astonishment, while the Soldan spoke in a grave
and altered voice: "The sick man, sayeth the poet, while he is
yet infirm knoweth the physician by his step; but when he is
recovered he knoweth not even his face when he looks upon
him. "
"A miracle! a miracle! " exclaimed Richard.
"Of Mahound's working, doubtless," said Thomas de Vaux.
"That I should lose my learned Hakim," said Richard, "merely
by absence of his cap and robe, and that I should find him again
in my royal brother Saladin ! »
"Such is oft the fashion of the world," answered the Soldan:
"the tattered robe makes not always the dervish. "
"And it was through thy intercession," said Richard, "that
yonder Knight of the Leopard was saved from death, and by thy
artifice that he revisited my camp in disguise! "
"Even so," replied Saladin: "I was physician enough to know
that unless the wounds of his bleeding honor were stanched, the
days of his life must be few. His disguise was more easily pene-
trated than I had expected from the success of my own. "
"An accident," said King Richard (probably alluding to the
circumstance of his applying his lips to the wound of the sup-
posed Nubian), "let me first know that his skin was artificially
discolored; and that hint once taken, detection became easy, for
his form and person are not to be forgotten. I confidently ex
pect that he will do battle on the morrow. "
"He is full in preparation and high in hope," said the Soldan.
"I have furnished him with weapons and horse, thinking nobly
of him from what I have seen under various disguises. "
"Knows he now," said Richard, "to whom he lies under obli-
gation? »
"He doth," replied the Saracen; "I was obliged to confess
my person when I unfolded my purpose. "
"And confessed he aught to you? " said the King of England.
"Nothing explicit," replied the Soldan; "but from much that
passed between us, I conceive his love is too highly placed to be
happy in its issue,"
"And thou knowest that his daring and insolent passion crossed
thine own wishes? " said Richard.


## p. 13057 (#491) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13057
"I might guess so much," said Saladin; "but his passion had
existed ere my wishes had been formed-and, I must now add,
is likely to survive them. I cannot, in honor, revenge me for
my disappointment on him who had no hand in it. Or if this
high-born dame loved him better than myself, who can say that
she did not justice to a knight of her own religion, who is full
of nobleness? "
"Yet of too mean lineage to mix with the blood of Planta-
genet," said Richard haughtily.
"Such may be your maxims in Frangistan," replied the Sol-
dan. "Our poets of the Eastern countries say that a valiant
camel-driver is worthy to kiss the lip of a fair Queen, when a
cowardly prince is not worthy to salute the hem of her garment.
But with your permission, noble brother, I must take leave of
thee for the present, to receive the Duke of Austria and yonder
Nazarene knight,- much less worthy of hospitality, but who
must yet be suitably entreated, not for their sakes, but for mine
own honor; -for what saith the sage Lokman? Say not that
the food is lost unto thee which is given to the stranger; for if
his body be strengthened and fattened therewithal, not less is
thine own worship and good name cherished and augmented. › »
The Saracen monarch departed from King Richard's tent; and
having indicated to him, rather with signs than with speech,
where the pavilion of the Queen and her attendants was pitched,
he went to receive the Marquis of Montserrat and his attend-
ants, for whom, with less good-will but with equal splendor, the
magnificent Soldan had provided accommodations. The most
ample refreshments, both in the Oriental and after the European
fashion, were spread before the royal and princely guests of
Saladin, each in their own separate pavilion; and so attentive
was the Soldan to the habits and taste of his visitors, that
Grecian slaves were stationed to present them with the goblet,
which is the abomination of the sect of Mohammed. Ere Rich-
ard had finished his meal, the ancient Omrah, who had brought
the Soldan's letter to the Christian camp, entered with a plan
of the ceremonial to be observed on the succeeding day of the
combat. Richard, who knew the taste of his old acquaintance,
invited him to pledge him in a flagon of wine of Schiraz: but
Abdallah gave him to understand, with a rueful aspect, that self-
denial, in the present circumstances, was a matter in which his
life was concerned; for that Saladin, tolerant in many respects,
XXII-817


## p. 13058 (#492) ##########################################

13058
SIR WALTER SCOTT
both observed, and enforced by high penalties, the laws of the
Prophet.
"Nay, then," said Richard, "if he loves not wine, that light-
ener of the human heart, his conversion is not to be hoped for,
and the prediction of the mad priest of Engaddi goes like chaff
down the wind. "
THE LAST MINSTREL
Prelude to the Lay of the Last Minstrel'
THE
HE way was long, the wind was cold,
The Minstrel was infirm and old;
His withered cheek, and tresses gray,
Seemed to have known a better day;
The harp, his sole remaining joy,
Was carried by an orphan boy.
The last of all the Bards was he,
Who sung of Border chivalry:
For, welladay! their date was fled,
His tuneful brethren all were dead;
And he, neglected and oppressed,
Wished to be with them, and at rest.
No more, on prancing palfrey borne,
He caroled light as lark at morn;
No longer, courted and caressed,
High placed in hall, a welcome guest,
He poured, to lord and lady gay,
The unpremeditated lay:
Old times were changed, old manners gone;
A stranger filled the Stuarts' throne;
The bigots of the iron time
Had called his harmless art a crime.
A wandering Harper, scorned and poor,
He begged his bread from door to door;
And tuned, to please a peasant's ear,
The harp a king had loved to hear.
He passed where Newark's stately tower
Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower:
The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye,-
No humbler resting-place was nigh.
With hesitating step, at last,
The embattled portal arch he passed,


## p. 13059 (#493) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13059
Whose ponderous grate and massy bar
Had oft rolled back the tide of war,
But never closed the iron door
Against the desolate and poor.
The Duchess marked his weary pace,
His timid mien, and reverend face,
And bade her page the menials tell,
That they should tend the old man well:
For she had known adversity,
Though born in such a high degree;
In pride of power, in beauty's bloom,
Had wept o'er Monmouth's bloody tomb!
When kindness had his wants supplied,
And the old man was gratified,
Began to rise his minstrel pride:
And he began to talk anon
Of good Earl Francis, dead and gone;
And of Earl Walter, -rest him God!
A braver ne'er to battle rode; -
And how full many a tale he knew
Of the old warriors of Buccleuch :
And would the noble Duchess deign
To listen to an old man's strain,
Though stiff his hands, his voice though weak,
He thought even yet, the sooth to speak,
That if she loved the harp to hear,
He could make music to her ear.
The humble boon was soon obtained:
The aged Minstrel audience gained.
But when he reached the room of state
Where she, with all her ladies, sate,
Perchance he wished his boon denied:
For when to tune his harp he tried,
His trembling hand had lost the ease
Which marks security to please;
And scenes, long past, of joy and pain,
Came wildering o'er his aged brain,-
He tried to tune his harp in vain!
The pitying Duchess praised its chime,
And gave him heart, and gave him time,
Till every string's according glee
Was blended into harmony.


## p. 13060 (#494) ##########################################

13060
SIR WALTER SCOTT
And then he said, he would full fain
He could recall an ancient strain,
He never thought to sing again.
It was not framed for village churls,
But for high dames and mighty earls;
He had played it to King Charles the Good,
When he kept court in Holyrood;
And much he wished, yet feared, to try
The long-forgotten melody.
Amid the strings his fingers strayed,
And an uncertain warbling made,
And oft he shook his hoary head:
But when he caught the measure wild,
The old man raised his face, and smiled;
And lightened up his faded eye,
With all a poet's ecstasy!
In varying cadence, soft or strong,
He swept the sounding chords along;
The present scene, the future lot,
His toils, his wants, were all forgot;
Cold diffidence, and age's frost,
In the full tide of song were lost;
Each blank in faithless memory void,
The poet's glowing thought supplied;
And while his harp responsive rung,
'Twas thus the LATEST MINSTREL sung.
LOCHINVAR
From Marmion›
H, YOUNG is come out of the west:
"Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,
He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar!
He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone;
He swam the Esk River where ford there was none:
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
The bride had consented, the gallant came late;


## p. 13061 (#495) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13061
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,
Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,)
"O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
Or to dance at our bridal, young, Lord Lochinvar ? "—
"I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied;-
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide!
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine:
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar. "
-
The bride kissed the goblet: the knight took it up,
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup.
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,-
"Now tread we a measure! " said young Lochinvar.
So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace:
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
And the bride-maidens whispered, "Twere better by far
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar. "
One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near;
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur:
They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.
There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan:
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;
There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?


## p. 13062 (#496) ##########################################

13062
SIR WALTER SCOTT
ELLEN DOUGLAS'S BOWER
THE RETREAT OF THE DOUGLAS
From The Lady of the Lake'
T WAS a lodge of ample size,
I'
But strange of structure and device,
Of such materials as around
The workman's hands had readiest found.
Lopped off their boughs, their hoar trunks bared,
And by the hatchet rudely squared,
To give the walls their destined height
The sturdy oak and ash unite;
While moss and clay and leaves combined
To fence each crevice from the wind.
The lighter pine-trees overhead,
Their slender length for rafters spread,
And withered heath and rushes dry
Supplied a russet canopy.
Due westward, fronting to the green,
A rural portico was seen,
Aloft on native pillars borne,
Of mountain fir, with bark unshorn,
Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine
The ivy and the Idæan vine,
The clematis, the favored flower
Which boasts the name of virgin-bower,
And every hardy plant could bear
Loch Katrine's keen and searching air.
An instant in this porch she staid,
And gayly to the stranger said:-
:-
"On heaven and on thy lady call,
And enter the enchanted hall! »
"My hope, my heaven, my trust must be,
My gentle guide, in following thee. "
He crossed the threshold-and a clang
Of angry steel that instant rang.
To his bold brow his spirit rushed;
But soon for vain alarm he blushed,
When on the floor he saw displayed,
Cause of the din, a naked blade.


## p. 13063 (#497) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13063
Dropped from the sheath, that careless flung
Upon a stag's huge antlers swung;-
For all around, the walls to grace,
-
Hung trophies of the fight or chase:
A target there, a bugle here,
A battle-axe, a hunting-spear,
And broadswords, bows, and arrows store,
With the tusked trophies of the boar.
Here grins the wolf as when he died,
And there the wild-cat's brindled hide
The frontlet of the elk adorns,
Or mantles o'er the bison's horns;
Pennons and flags defaced and stained,
That blackening streaks of blood retained,
And deerskins, dappled, dun, and white,
With otter's fur and seal's unite,
In rude and uncouth tapestry all,
To garnish forth the sylvan hall.
The wondering stranger round him gazed,
And next the fallen weapon raised;
Few were the arms whose sinewy strength
Sufficed to stretch it forth at length;
And as the brand he poised and swayed,
"I never knew but one," he said,
"Whose stalwart arm might brook to wield
A blade like this in battle-field. "
-
She sighed, then smiled and took the word:-
"You see the guardian champion's sword:
As light it trembles in his hand
As in my grasp a hazel wand;
My sire's tall form might grace the part
Of Ferragus or Ascabart:
But in the absent giant's hold
Are women now, and menials old. "
-:
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,
Young Ellen gave a mother's due.
Meet welcome to her guest she made,
And every courteous rite was paid,


## p. 13064 (#498) ##########################################

13064
SIR WALTER SCOTT
•
That hospitality could claim,
Though all unasked his birth and name.
Such then the reverence to a guest,
That fellest foe might join the feast,
And from his deadliest foeman's door
Unquestioned turn, the banquet o'er.
At length his rank the stranger names:—
"The Knight of Snowdoun, James Fitz-James:
Lord of a barren heritage,
Which his brave sires, from age to age,
By their good swords had held with toil;
His sire had fallen in such turmoil,
And he, God wot, was forced to stand
Oft for his right with blade in hand.
This morning, with Lord Moray's train,
He chased a stalwart stag in vain,
Outstripped his comrades, missed the deer,
Lost his good steed, and wandered here. "
Fain would the knight in turn require
The name and state of Ellen's sire.
Well showed the elder lady's mien,
That courts and cities she had seen;
Ellen, though more her looks displayed
The simple grace of sylvan maid,
In speech and gesture, form and face,
Showed she was come of gentle race.
'Twere strange in ruder rank to find
Such looks, such manners, and such mind.
Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave,
Dame Margaret heard with silence grave;
Or Ellen, innocently gay,
Turned all inquiry light away:-
"Weird women we! by dale and down
We dwell, afar from tower and town.
We stem the flood, we ride the blast,
On wandering knights our spells we cast;
While viewless minstrels touch the string,
'Tis thus our charmèd rhymes we sing. "
She sung, and still a harp unseen
Filled up the symphony between.
-


## p. 13065 (#499) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13065
SONG
"Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking;
Dream of battled fields no more,
Days of danger, nights of waking.
In our isle's enchanted hall,
Hands unseen thy couch are strewing;
Fairy strains of music fall,
Every sense in slumber dewing.
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Dream of fighting fields no more:
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
"No rude sound shall reach thine ear,
Armor's clang, nor war-steed champing,
Trump nor pibroch summon here
Mustering clan, or squadron tramping;
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come
At the daybreak from the fallow,
And the bittern sound his drum,
Booming from the sedgy shallow.
Ruder sounds shall none be near,
Guards nor warders challenge here;
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing,
Shouting clans, or squadrons stamping. "
She paused then, blushing, led the lay
To grace the stranger of the day.
Her mellow notes awhile prolong
The cadence of the flowing song,
Till to her lips in measured frame
The minstrel verse spontaneous came:—
-
SONG CONTINUED
"Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done;
While our slumb'rous spells assail ye,
Dream not, with the rising sun,
Bugles here shall sound reveillé.
Sleep! the deer is in his den;
Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying;
Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen
How thy gallant steed lay dying.


## p. 13066 (#500) ##########################################

13066
SIR WALTER SCOTT
Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done,
Think not of the rising sun;
For at dawning to assail ye,
Here no bugles sound reveillé. "
The hall was cleared; the stranger's bed
Was there of mountain heather spread,
Where oft a hundred guests had lain,
And dreamed their forest sports again.
But vainly did the heath-flower shed
Its moorland fragrance round his head;
Not Ellen's spell had lulled to rest
The fever of his troubled breast.
In broken dreams the image rose
Of varied perils, pains, and woes:
His steed now flounders in the brake,
Now sinks his barge upon the lake;
Now leader of a broken host,
His standard falls, his honor's lost.
Then from my couch may heavenly might
Chase that worst phantom of the night! —
Again returned the scenes of youth,
Of confident undoubting truth;
Again his soul he interchanged
With friends whose hearts were long estranged.
They come, in dim procession led,
The cold, the faithless, and the dead;
As warm each hand, each brow as gay,
As if they parted yesterday:
And doubt distracts him at the view,-
Oh, were his senses false or true?
Dreamed he of death, or broken vow,
Or is it all a vision now?
At length, with Ellen in a grove
He seemed to walk, and speak of love:
She listened with a blush and sigh,
His suit was warm, his hopes were high,
He sought her yielded hand to clasp,
And a cold gauntlet met his grasp:
The phantom's sex was changed and gone,
Upon its head a helmet shone;
Slowly enlarged to giant size,
With darkened cheek and threatening eyes,


## p. 13067 (#501) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13067
The grisly visage, stern and hoar,
To Ellen still a likeness bore. -
He woke, and panting with affright,
Recalled the vision of the night.
The hearth's decaying brands were red,
And deep and dusky lustre shed,
Half showing, half concealing, all
The uncouth trophies of the hall.
Mid those the stranger fixed his eye,
Where that huge falchion hung on high,
And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng,
Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along,
Until, the giddy whirl to cure,
He rose, and sought the moonshine pure.
The wild rose, eglantine, and broom,
Wafted around their rich perfume;
The birch-trees wept in fragrant balm,
The aspens slept beneath the calm;
The silver light, with quivering glance,
Played on the water's still expanse,
Wild were the heart whose passion's sway
Could rage beneath the sober ray!
He felt its calm, that warrior guest,
While thus he communed with his breast:-
"Why is it, at each turn I trace
Some memory of that exiled race!
Can I not mountain maiden spy,
But she must bear the Douglas eye?
Can I not view a Highland brand,
But it must match the Douglas hand?
Can I not frame a fevered dream,
But still the Douglas is the theme?
I'll dream no more: by manly mind
Not even in sleep is will resigned.
My midnight orisons said o'er,
I'll turn to rest, and dream no more. "
His midnight orisons he told,
A prayer with every bead of gold;
Consigned to heaven his cares and woes,
And sunk in undisturbed repose:
Until the heath-cock shrilly crew,
And morning dawned on Benvenue.


## p. 13068 (#502) ##########################################

13068
SIR WALTER SCOTT
THE DISCLOSURE
From the Lady of the Lake'
HAT early beam, so fair and sheen,
Was twinkling through the hazel screen,
When, rousing at its glimmer red,
The warriors left their lowly bed,
Looked out upon the dappled sky,
Muttered their soldier matins by,
And then awaked their fire, to steal,
As short and rude, their soldier meal.
That o'er, the Gael around him threw
His graceful plaid of varied hue,
And, true to promise, led the way
By thicket green and mountain gray.
A wildering path! -they winded now
Along the precipice's brow,
Commanding the rich scenes beneath,
The windings of the Forth and Teith,
And all the vales between that lie,
Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky;
Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance
Gained not the length of horseman's lance.
'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain
Assistance from the hand to gain;
So tangled oft, that, bursting through,
Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew,-
That diamond dew, so pure and clear,
It rivals all but Beauty's tear!
THA
At length they came where, stern and steep,
The hill sinks down upon the deep.
Here Vennachar in silver flows,
There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose:
Ever the hollow path twined on,
Beneath steep bank and threatening stone;
A hundred men might hold the post
With hardihood against a host.
The rugged mountain's scanty cloak
Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak,
With shingles bare, and cliffs between,
And patches bright of bracken green,
And heather black, that waved so high
It held the copse in rivalry.
---


## p. 13069 (#503) ##########################################

SIR WALTER SCOTT
13069
But where the lake slept deep and still.
Dank osiers fringed the swamp and hill;
And oft both path and hill were torn,
Where wintry torrents down had borne,
And heaped upon the cumbered land
Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand.
So toilsome was the road to trace,
The guide, abating of his pace,
Led slowly through the pass's jaws,
And asked Fitz-James by what strange cause
He sought these wilds? traversed by few,
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu.
"Brave Gael, my pass, in danger tried,
Hangs in my belt and by my side;
Yet, sooth to tell," the Saxon said,
"I dreamt not now to claim its aid.
When here, but three days since, I came,
Bewildered in pursuit of game,
All seemed as peaceful and as still
As the mist slumbering on yon hill;
Thy dangerous chief was then afar,
Nor soon expected back from war:
Thus said, at least, my mountain guide,
Though deep perchance the villain lied. "-
"Yet why a second venture try? ” —
"A warrior thou, and ask me why!
Moves our free course by such fixed cause
As gives the poor mechanic laws?
Enough, I sought to drive away
The lazy hours of peaceful day:
Slight cause will then suffice to guide
A knight's free footsteps far and wide,-
A falcon flown, a greyhound strayed,
The merry glance of mountain maid;
Or, if a path be dangerous known,
The danger's self is lure alone.