(2.)—VERSES FOUND IN BOTHWELL'S POCKET-BOOK. ["It may be worth noting, that it was in correcting the proof-sheets of The Antiquary that Scott first took to equipping his chapters with mottoes of his own fabrication. On one occasion he happened to ask John Ballantyne, who was sitting by him, to hunt for a par"WITH these letters was a lock of hair wrapped in ticular passage in Beaumont and Fletcher. John did a copy of verses, written obviously with a feeling which as he was bid, but did not succeed in discovering the lines. 'Hang it, Johnnie,' cried Scott, I believe I atoned, in Morton's opinion, for the roughness of the I can make a motto sooner than you will find one." poetry, and the conceits with which it abounded, acHe did so accordingly; and from that hour, when-cording to the taste of the period: ”— ever memory failed to suggest an appropriate epigraph, he had recourse to the inexhaustible mines of 'old play' or old ballad,' to which we owe some of the most exquisite verses that ever flowed from his pen"-Life, vol. v., p. 145.] THY hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright, Since then how often hast thou press'd A breast whose blood's a troubled ocean, I had not wander'd wild and wide, With such an angel for my guide; Nor heaven nor earth could then reprove me, If she had lived, and lived to love me. Not then this world's wild joys had been Mine ireful mood had sweetness tamed, From Old Mortality. 1816. (1.)-MAJOR BELLENDEN'S SONG. AND what though winter will pinch severe Through locks of grey and a cloak that 's old, (3.)-EPITAPH ON BALFOUR OF BURLEY "GENTLE reader, I did request of mine honest friend Peter Proudfoot, travelling merchant, known to many of this land for his faithful and just dealings, as well in muslins and cambrics as in small wares, to procure In the far eastern clime, no great while since, Lived Sultaun Solimaun, a mighty prince, Whose eyes, as oft as they perform'd their round, Beheld all others fix'd upon the ground; Whose ears received the same unvaried phrase, "Sultaun! thy vassal hears, and he obeys!" All have their tastes-this may the fancy strike Of such grave folks as pomp and grandeur like; For me, I love the honest heart and warm Of Monarch who can amble round his farm, Or, when the toil of state no more annoys, In chimney corner seek domestic joysI love a prince will bid the bottle pass, Exchanging with his subjects glance and glass; In fitting time, can, gayest of the gay, Keep up the jest, and mingle in the laySuch Monarchs best our free-born humours suit, But Despots must be stately, stern, and mute. III. This Solimaun, Serendib had in sway— And where's Serendib? may some critic say.— If Rennell has it not, you'll find, mayhap, IV. Serendib found, deem not my tale a fiction- I wot not-but the Sultaun never laugh'd, 2 The hint of the following tale is taken from La Camiscia Magica, a novel of Giam Battista Casti. 8 See the Arabian Nights' Entertainments. In his long list of melancholies, mad, V. Physicians soon arrived, sage, ware, and tried, More and yet more in deep array appear, VI. Then was the council call'd-by their advice, Of feudatory chieftains and freeholders- Double assessment, forage, and free quarters; And fearing these as China-men the Tartars. Or as the whisker'd vermin fear the mousers, Each fumbled in the pocket of his trowsers. VIII. And next came forth the reverend Convocation, Bald heads, white beards, and many a turban green, Imaum and Mollah there of every station, Santon, Fakir, and Calendar were seen. Their votes were various-some advised a Mosque With fitting revenues should be erected, With seemly gardens and with gay Kiosque, To recreate a band of priests selected; Others opined that through the realms a dole Be made to holy men, whose prayers might profit The Sultaun's weal in body and in soul. But their long-headed chief, the Sheik Ul-Sofit, More closely touch'd the point:-"Thy studious mood," Quoth he, "O Prince! hath thicken'd all thy blood, And dull'd thy brain with labour beyond measure; Wherefore relax a space and take thy pleasure, And toy with beauty, or tell o'er thy treasure; From all the cares of state, my Liege, enlarge thee, And leave the burden to thy faithful clergy." IX. These counsels sage availed not a whit, E'en let the learn'd go search, and tell me if I'm But she profess'd to cure disease the sternest, wrong. VII. The Omrahs, each with hand on scymitar, Too long has slept, nor own'd the work of death; From this oration auguring much disquiet, 1 Sea Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy. For these hard words see D'Herbelot, or the learned editor of the Recipes of Avicenna. By dint of magic amulet or lay; And, when all other skill in vain was shown, She deem'd it fitting time to use her own. X. "Sympathia magica hath wonders done," I mean his SHIRT, my son; which, taken warm And your dull heart leap light as shepherd-boy's.” 3 See Sir John Malcolm's admirable History of Persia. 4 Nobility. As Doctors have, who bid their patients roam XI. All are on board-the Sultaun and his train, The old Rais was the first who questioned, "Whither?" They paused-" Arabia,” thought the pensive Prince, "Was call'd The Happy many ages since For Mokha, Rais."—And they came safely thither. But not in Araby, with all her balm, Not where Judea weeps beneath her palm, Not in rich Egypt, not in Nubian waste, Could there the step of happiness be traced. One Copt alone profess'd to have seen her smile, When Bruce his goblet fill'd at infant Nile: She bless'd the dauntless traveller as he quaff'd, But vanish'd from him with the ended draught. XII. "Enough of turbans," said the weary King, By land or ocean never strikes his flag— XIII. Monsieur Baboon, after much late commotion, Was agitated like a settling ocean, 1 Master of the vessel. 2 The well-known resemblance of Italy in the map. 3 Florence, Venice, &c. 4 The Calabrias, infested by bands of assassins. One of the leaders was called Fra Diavolo, t. e. Brother Devil. Quite out of sorts, and could not tell what ail'd him, Our Prince, though Sultauns of such things are heedless, Thought it a thing indelicate and needless To ask, if at that moment he was happy. And Monsieur, seeing that he was comme il faut, a Loud voice mustered up, for "Vive le Roi!" Then whisper'd," Ave you any news of Nappy?" The Sultaun answer'd him with a cross question,"Pray, can you tell me aught of one John Bull, That dwells somewhere beyond your herring-pool ?" The query seem'd of difficult digestion, The party shrugg'd, and grinn'd, and took his snuff, And found his whole good-breeding scarce enough. XIV. Twitching his visage into as many puckers I saw him at von place call'd Vaterloo- XV. John Bull was in his very worst of moods, Yet, grumbler as he is, so kind and hearty, Poor John had wellnigh wept for Bonaparte! Such was the wight whom Solimaun salam'd,"And who are you," John answer'd, "and be d-d?" "Happy my tenants breaking on my hand; Unstock'd my pastures, and untill'd my land; Sugar and rum a drug, and mice and moths The sole consumers of my good broadclothsHappy-Why, cursed war and racking tax Have left us scarcely raiment to our backs.""In that case, signior, I may take my leave; I came to ask a favour-but I grieve""Favour" said John, and eyed the Sultaun hard, "It's my belief you come to break the yard!But, stay, you look like some poor foreign sinner,Take that to buy yourself a shirt and dinner."With that he chuck'd a guinea at his head; But, with due dignity, the Sultaun said, "Permit me, sir, your bounty to decline; A shirt indeed I seek, but none of thine. Signior, I kiss your hands, so fare you well.”— "Kiss and be d-d," quoth John," and go to hell!" XVII. Next door to John there dwelt his sister Peg, And teeth, of yore, on slender provocation, XVIII. The Sultaun enter'd, and he made his leg, XIX. Then up got Peg, and round the house 'gan scuttle In search of goods her customer to nail, Until the Sultaun strain'd his princely throttle, And hollo'd." Ma'am that is not what I ail. Pray, are you happy, ma'am, in this snug glen ?”— "Happy?" said Peg; "What for d'ye want to ken? Besides, just think upon this by-gane year, Grain wadna pay the yoking of the pleugh.""What say you to the present?"-" Meal's sae dear, To mak' their brose my bairns have scarce aneugh."-"The devil take the shirt," said Solimaun, "I think my quest will end as it began.Farewell, ma'am; nay, no ceremony, I beg""Ye'll no be for the linen then?" said Peg. XX. Now, for the land of verdant Erin, For a long space had John, with words of thunder, XXI The Sultaun saw him on a holiday, Dealt forth a bonus of imputed merit, Then is Pat's time for fancy, whim, and spirit! To jest, to sing, to caper fair and free, XXII. Shilela their plan was wellnigh after baulking, They seized, and they floor'd, and they stripp'd him— Up-bubboo! Paddy had not- -a shirt to his back!!! And the King, disappointed, with sorrow ind shame, Went back to Serendib as sad as he came. |