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The Goblin Page, omitting still

No opportunity of ill,

Strove now, while blood ran hot and high,
To rouse debate and jealousy;
Till Conrad, Lord of Wolfenstein,

By nature fierce, and warm with wine,
And now in humour highly cross'd,
About some steeds his band had lost,
High words to words succeeding still,
Smote, with his gauntlet, stout Hunthill ;'
A hot and hardy Rutherford,

Whom men called Dickon Draw-the-sword.
He took it on the page's saye,
Hunthill had driven these steeds away.
Then Howard, Home, and Douglas rose,
The kindling discord to compose:
Stern Rutherford right little said,

But bit his glove,2 and shook his head.-
A fortnight thence, in Inglewood,
Stout Conrade, cold, and drench'd in blood,
His bosom gored with many a wound,
Was by a woodman's lyme-dog found;
Unknown the manner of his death,

Gone was his brand, both sword and sheath;
But ever from that time, 'twas said,
That Dickon wore a Cologne blade.

VIII.

The dwarf, who fear'd his master's eye
Might his foul treachery espie,
Now sought the castle buttery,
Where many a yeoman, bold and free,
Revell'd as merrily and well
As those that sat in lordly selle.
Watt Tinlinn, there, did frankly raise
The pledge to Arthur Fire-the-Braes ;3
And he, as by his breeding bound,
To Howard's merry-men sent it round.
To quit them, on the English side,
Red Roland Forster loudly cried,
"A deep carouse to yon fair bride!"-
At every pledge, from vat and pail,
Foam'd forth in floods the nut-brown ale;
While shout the riders every one;
Such day of mirth ne'er cheer'd their clan,

3 The person bearing this redoubtable nom de guerre was an Elliot, and resided at Thorleshope, in Liddesdale. He Occurs in the list of Border riders, in 1597.

5 "The appearance and dress of the company assembled in the chapel, and the description of the subsequent feast, in which the hounds and hawks are not the least important perBonages of the drama, are again happy imitations of those authors from whose rich but unpolished ore Mr. Scott has wrought much of his most exquisite imagery and description. A society, such as that assembled in Branxholm Castle, inflamed with national prejudices, and heated with wine, seems to have contained in itself sufficient seeds of spontaneous dis

Since old Buccleuch the name did gain, When in the cleuch the buck was ta'en.4

IX.

The wily page, with vengeful thought,
Remember'd him of Tinlinn's yew,
And swore, it should be dearly bought
That ever he the arrow drew.
First, he the yeoman did molest,
With bitter gibe and taunting jest;
Told, how he fled at Solway strife,
And how Hob Armstrong cheer'd his wife;
Then, shunning still his powerful arm,
At unawares he wrought him harm;
From trencher stole his choicest cheer,
Dash'd from his lips his can of beer;
Then, to his knee sly creeping on,
With bodkin pierced him to the bone:
The venom'd wound, and festering joint,
Long after rued that bodkin's point.
The startled yeoman swore and spurn'd,
And board and flagons overturn'd.
Riot and clamour wild began;
Back to the hall the Urchin ran;

Took in a darkling nook his post,

And grinn'd, and mutter'd, "Lost! lost! lost!

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X.

By this, the Dame, lest farther fray
Should mar the concord of the day,
Had bid the Minstrels tune their lay.
And first stept forth old Albert Græme,
The Minstrel of that ancient name:" 6
Was none who struck the harp so well,
Within the Land Debateable;
Well friended, too, his hardy kin,
Whoever lost, were sure to win;

They sought the beeves that made their broth,
In Scotland and in England both.

In homely guise, as nature bade,
His simple song the Borderer said.

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XI.

ALBERT GREME."

It was an English ladye bright,

(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,")

order; but the goblin page is well introduced, as applying a torch to this mass of combustibles. Quarrels, highly charac teristic of Border manners, both in their cause and the manner in which they are supported, ensue, as well among the lordly guests, as the yoemen assembled in the buttery."Critical Review, 1805.

See Appendix, Note 4 D.

7 "It is the author's object, in these songs, to exemplify the different styles of ballad narrative which prevailed in this island at different periods, or in different conditions of society. The first (ALBERT's) is conducted upon the rude and simple model of the old Border ditties, and produces its effect by the direct and concise narrative of a tragical occurrence."-JE

PREY.

8 See Appendix, Note 4 E.

And she would marry a Scottish knight, For Love will still be lord of all.

Blithely they saw the rising sun,

When he shone fair on Carlisle wall; But they were sad ere day was done,

Though Love was still the lord of all.

Her sire gave brooch and jewel fine,
Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall;
Her brother gave but a flask of wine,

For ire that Love was lord of all.

For she had lands, both meadow and lea,
Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,
And he swore her death, ere he would see
A Scottish knight the lord of all!

XII.

That wine she had not tasted well,

(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) When dead, in her true love's arms, she fell, For Love was still the lord of all!

He pierced her brother to the heart,

Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall:

So perish all would true love part,

That Love may still be lord of all!

And then he took the cross divine,

(Where the sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) And died for her sake in Palestine,

So Love was still the lord of all.

Now all ye lovers, that faithful prove,
(The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,)
Pray for their souls who died for love,
For Love shall still be lord of all!

XIII.

As ended Albert's simple lay,

Arose a bard of loftier port;
For sonnet, rhyme, and roundelay,
Renown'd in haughty Henry's court:
There rung thy harp, unrivall❜d long,
Fitztraver of the silver song!

The gentle Surrey loved his lyre-
Who has not heard of Surrey's fame?'

His was the hero's soul of fire,

And his the bard's immortal name,

And his was love, exalted high
By all the glow of chivalry.

XIV.

They sought, together, climes afar, And oft, within some olive grove,

1 See Appendix, Note 4 F.

2 First Edit." So sweet their harp and voices join.”

When even came with twinkling star,

They sung of Surrey's absent love. His step the Italian peasant stay'd,

And deem'd, that spirits from on high, Round where some hermit saint was laid, Were breathing heavenly melody; So sweet did harp and voice combine, To praise the name of Geraldine.

XV.

Fitztraver! O what tongue may say

The pangs thy faithful bosom knew, When Surrey, of the deathless lay,

Ungrateful Tudor's sentence slew? Regardless of the tyrant's frown,

His harp call'd wrath and vengeance down. He left, for Naworth's iron towers, Windsor's green glades, and courtly bowers And faithful to his patron's name,

With Howard still Fitztraver came;

Lord William's foremost favourite he,
And chief of all his minstrelsy.

XVI. FITZTRAVER.3

'Twas All-soul's eve, and Surrey's heart beat high;

He heard the midnight bell with anxious start, Which told the mystic hour, approaching nigh, When wise Cornelius promised, by his art, To show to him the ladye of his heart,

Albeit betwixt them roar'd the occan grim; Yet so the sage had hight to play his part,

That he should see her form in life and limb, And mark, if still she loved, and still she thought of him.

XVII.

Dark was the vaulted room of gramarye,

To which the wizard led the gallant Knight, Save that before a mirror, huge and high, A hallow'd taper shed a glimmering light On mystic implements of magic might; On cross, and character, and talisman, And almagest, and altar, nothing bright: For fitful was the lustre, pale and wan, As watchlight by the bed of some departing man.

XVIII.

But soon, within that mirror huge and high,
Was seen a self-emitted light to gleam;
And forms upon its breast the Earl 'gan spy,
Cloudy and indistinct, as feverish dream;
Till, slow arranging, and defined, they seem
To form a lordly and a lofty room,
Part lighted by a lamp with silver beam,

complished Surrey, has more of the richness and polish of the Italian poetry, and is very beautifully written in a stanza ro

"The second song, that of Fitztraver, the bard of the ac- sembling that of Spenser."-JEFFREY

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Placed by a couch of Agra's silken loom, And part by moonshine pale, and part was hid in

XIX.

Fair all the pageant-but how passing fair
The slender form, which lay on couch of Ind!
O'er her white bosom stray'd her hazel hair,

Pale her dear cheek, as if for love she pined;
All in her night-robe loose she lay reclined,

And, pensive, read from tablet eburnine, Some strain that seem'd her inmost soul to find :That favour'd strain was Surrey's raptured line, That fair and lovely form, the Lady Geraldine.

XX.

Slow roll'd the clouds upon the lovely form,
And swept the goodly vision all away-
So royal envy roll'd the murky storm

O'er my beloved Master's glorious day.
Thou jealous, ruthless tyrant! Heaven repay
On thee, and on thy children's latest line,
The wild caprice of thy despotic sway,

The gory bridal bed, the plunder'd shrine, The murder'd Surrey's blood, the tears of Geraldine!

XXI.

Both Scots, and Southern chiefs, prolong
Applauses of Fitztraver's song;
These hated Henry's name as death,
And those still held the ancient faith.-
Then, from his seat, with lofty air,
Rose Harold, bard of brave St. Clair;
St. Clair, who, feasting high at Home,
Had with that lord to battle come.
Harold was born where restless seas
Howl round the storm-swept Orcades;1
Where erst St. Clairs held princely sway
O'er isle and islet, strait and bay;-
Still nods their palace to its fall,
Thy pride and sorrow, fair Kirkwall!-2
Thence oft he mark'd fierce Pentland rave,
As if grim Odin rode her wave;

And watch'd, the whilst, with visage pale,
And throbbing heart, the struggling sail;
For all of wonderful and wild
Had rapture for the lonely child.

XII.

And much of wild and wonderful

In these rude isles might fancy cull;
For thither came, in times afar,
Stern Lochlin's sons of roving war,
The Norsemen, train'd to spoil and blood,
Skill'd to prepare the raven's food;
Kings of the main their leaders brave,
Their barks the dragons of the wave.3
And there, in many a stormy vale,
The Scald had told his wondrous tale;
And many a Runic column high
Had witness'd grim idolatry.
And thus had Harold, in his youth,
Learn'd many a Saga's rhyme uncouth,-
Of that Sea-Snake, tremendous curl'd,
Whose monstrous circle girds the world;"
Of those dread Maids," whose hideous yell
Maddens the battle's bloody swell;

Of Chiefs, who, guided through the gloom
By the pale death-lights of the tomb,
Ransack'd the graves of warriors old,
Their falchions wrench'd from corpses' hold,
Waked the deaf tomb with war's alarms,
And bade the dead arise to arms!
With war and wonder all on flame,
To Roslin's bowers young Harold came,
Where, by sweet glen and greenwood tree,
He learn'd a milder minstrelsy;
Yet something of the Northern spell
Mix'd with the softer numbers well.

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XXIII. HAROLD.7

O listen, listen, ladies gay!

No haughty feat of arms I tell ; Soft is the note, and sad the lay,

That mourns the lovely Rosabelle.

-"Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew!
And, gentle ladye, deign to stay!
Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch,9
Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day.

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"The blackening wave is edged with white :
To inch 10 and rock the sea-mews fly;
The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite,
Whose screams forbode that wreck is nigh.

1 See Appendix, Note 4 G.

2 Ibid. Note 4 H.

8 The chiefs of the Vakingr, or Scandinavian pirates, assumed the title of Sakonungr, or Sea-kings. Ships, in the inflated language of the Scalds, are often termed the serpents

of the ocean.

See Appendix, Note 4 I.
See Appendix, Note 4 L.

5 Ibid. Note 4 K.

7 "The third song is intended to represent that wild style of composition which prevailed among the bards of the Northern Continent, somewhat softened and adorned by the Min

strel's residence in the south. We prefer it, upon the whole, to either of the two former, and shall give it entire to our readers, who will probably be struck with the poetical effect of the dramatic form into which it is thrown, and of the indirect description by which every thing is most expressively told, without one word of distinct narrative."-JEFFREY.

8 "This was a family name in the house of St. Clair. Henry St. Clair, the second of the line, married Rosabelle, fourth daughter of the Earl of Stratherne.

See Appendix, Note 4 M. 10 Inch. isle.

"Last night the gifted Seer did view

A wet shroud swathed' round ladye gay; Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheuch :

Why cross the gloomy firth to-day?"—

""Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir
To-night at Roslin leads the ball,
But that my ladye-mother there
Sits lonely in her castle-hall.

""Tis not because the ring they ride, And Lindesay at the ring rides well, But that my sire the wine will chide, If 'tis not fill'd by Rosabelle."—

O'er Roslin all that dreary night,

A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam; "Twas broader than the watch-fire's light, And redder than the bright moon-beam.

It glared on Roslin's castled rock,

It ruddied all the copse-wood glen; 'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak, And seen from cavern'd Hawthornden.

Seem'd all on fire that chapel proud, Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie, Each Baron, for a sable shroud, Sheathed in his iron panoply.

Seem'd all on fire within, around,
Deep sacristy and altar's pale;
Shone every pillar foliage-bound,

And glimmer'd all the dead men's mail."

Blazed battlement and pinnet high,
Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair-
So still they blaze, when fate is nigh
The lordly line of high St. Clair.

There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold
Lie buried within that proud chapelle;
Each one the holy vault doth hold-
But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle !

1 First Edit. "A wet shroud roll'd.” First Edit. "It reddened," &c.

8 First Edit. "Both vaulted crypt," &c. See Appendix, Note 4 N.

First Edil. "But the kelpie rung and the mermaids sung." 6 "I observe a great poetic climax, designed, doubtless, in the two last of these songs, from the first."-ANNA SEWARD. "We (G. Ellis and J. H. Frere) entertain some doubts about the propriety of dwelling so long on the minstrel songs in the last canto. I say we doubt, because we are not aware of your having ancient authority for such a practice; but though the attempt was a bold one, inasmuch as it is not usual to add a whole canto to a story which is already finished, we are far from wishing that you had left it unattempted."-Ellis to Scott. "The sixth canto is altogether redundant; for the poem should certainly have closed with the union of the

And each St. Clair was buried there,

With candle, with book, and with knell;

But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung, The dirge of lovely Rosabelle.

XXIV.

So sweet was Harold's piteous lay,"

Scarce mark'd the guests the darken'd hall, Though, long before the sinking day,

A wondrous shade involved them all:

It was not eddying mist or fog,
Drain'd by the sun from fen or bog;

Of no eclipse had sages told;

And yet, as it came on apace,

Each one could scarce his neighbour's face,

Could scarce his own stretch'd hand behold.

A secret horror check'd the feast,
And chill'd the soul of every guest;
Even the high Dame stood half aghast,
She knew some evil on the blast;

The elvish page fell to the ground,

And, shuddering, mutter'd, "Found! found. found!"

XXV.

Then sudden, through the darken'd air
A flash of lightning came;

So broad, so bright, so red the glare,
The castle seem'd on flame.
Glanced every rafter of the hall,
Glanced every shield upon the wall;
Each trophied beam, each sculptured stone,
Were instant seen, and instant gone;

Full through the guests' bedazzled band
Resistless flash'd the levin-brand,

And fill'd the hall with smouldering smoke,
As on the elvish page it broke.

It broke, with thunder long and loud, Dismay'd the brave, appall'd the proud,From sea to sea the larum rung; On Berwick wall, and at Carlisle withal, To arms the startled warders sprung. When ended was the dreadful roar, The elvish dwarf was seen no more!?

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7 "The Goblin Page is, in our opinion, the capital defor mity of the poem. We have already said the whole machincry is useless; but the magic studies of the lady, and the rifled tomb of Michael Scott, give occasion to so much admirable poetry, that we can, on no account, consent to part with them. The page, on the other hand, is a perpetual bur den to the poet and to the readers; it is an undignified and improbable fiction, which excites neither terror, admiration, nor astonishment, but needlessly debases the strain of the whole work, and excites at once our incredulity and con

XXVI.

Some heard a voice in Branksome Hall,
Some saw a sight, not seen by all;
That dreadful voice was heard by some,
Cry, with loud summons, "GYLBIN, COME!"
And on the spot where burst the brand,
Just where the page had flung him down,
Some saw an arm, and some a hand,

And some the waving of a gown.
The guests in silence pray'd and shook,
And terror dimm'd each lofty look.
But none of all the astonish'd train
Was so dismay'd as Deloraine;
His blood did freeze, his brain did burn,
'Twas fear'd his mind would ne'er return;
For he was speechless, ghastly, wan,
Like him of whom the story ran,
Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man.'
At length, by fits, he darkly told,
With broken hint, and shuddering cold-
That he had seen, right certainly,
A shape with amice wrapp'd around,
With a wrought Spanish baldric bound,
Like pilgrim from beyond the sea;

And knew-but how it matter'd not-
It was the wizard, Michael Scott.

XXVII.

The anxious crowd, with horror pale,
All trembling heard the wondrous tale;
No sound was made, no word was spoke,
Till noble Angus silence broke;

And he a solemn sacred plight
Did to St. Bride of Douglas måke,
That he a pilgrimage would take
To Melrose Abbey, for the sake
Of Michael's restless sprite.
Then each, to ease his troubled breast,

To some bless'd saint his prayers address'd:
Some to St. Modan made their vows,

Some to St. Mary of the Lowes,

Some to the Holy Rood of Lisle,

Some to our Ladye of the Isle ;
Each did his patron witness make,
That he such pilgrimage would take,

tempt. He is not a 'tricksy spirit,' like Ariel, with whom the imagination is irresistibly enamoured, nor a tiny monarch, like Oberon, disposing of the destinies of mortals; he rather appears to us to be an awkward sort of a mongrel between fuck and Caliban, of a servile and brutal nature, and limited in his powers to the indulgence of petty malignity, and the infiction of despicable injuries. Besides this objection to his character, his existence has no support from any general or established superstition. Fairies and devils, ghosts, angels, and witches, are creatures with whom we are all familiar, and who excite in all classes of mankind emotions with which we can easily be made to sympathize. But the history of Gilpin Horner was never believed out of the village where he is said to have made his appearance, and has no claims upon the credulity of those who were not originally of his acquaintanco. There is nothing at all interesting or elegant in the

And monks should sing, and bells should toli,
All for the weal of Michael's soul.
While vows were ta'en, and prayers were pray'd,
"Tis said the noble dame, dismay'd,
Renounced, for aye, dark magic's aid.

XXVIII.

Nought of the bridal will I tell,
Which after in short space befell;

Nor how brave sons and daughters fair
Bless'd Teviot's Flower, and Cranstoun's heir:
After such dreadful scene, 'twere vain
To wake the note of mirth again.
More meet it were to mark the day
Of penitence and prayer divine,
When pilgrim-chiefs, in sad array,
Sought Melrose' holy shrine.

XXIX.

With naked foot, and sackcloth vest,
And arms enfolded on his breast,
Did every pilgrim go;

The standers-by might hear uneath,
Footstep, or voice, or high-drawn breath,
Through all the lengthen'd row:

No lordly look, nor martial stride,
Gone was their glory, sunk their pride,
Forgotten their renown;

Silent and slow, like ghosts they glide
To the high altar's hallow'd side,

And there they knelt them down:
Above the suppliant chieftains wave
The banners of departed brave;
Beneath the letter'd stones were laid
The ashes of their fathers dead;

From many a garnish'd niche around, Stern saints and tortured martyrs frown'd.

XXX.

And slow up the dim aisle afar,

With sable cowl and scapular,

And snow-white stoles, in order due,

The holy Fathers, two and two,
In long procession came;
Taper and host, and book they bare,

scenes of which he is the hero; and in reading these passages we really could not help suspecting that they did not stand in the romance when the aged minstrel recited it to the royal Charles and his mighty earls, but were inserted afterwards to suit the taste of the cottagers among whom he begged his bread on the border. We entreat Mr. Scott to enquire into the grounds of this suspicion, and to take advantage of any decent pretext he can lay hold of for purging the 'Lay' of this ungraceful intruder. We would also move for a quo warranto against the Spirits of the River and the Mountain; for though they are come of a very high lineage, we do not know what lawful business they could have at Branksome Castle in the year 1550."-JEFFREY.

1 See Appendix, Note 4 0.

2 Ibid. Note 4 P.

8 See the Author's Introduction to the 'Lay,' p

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