Save at his Chief of Branksome's need: And never to tell where it was hid, And when that need was past and o'er, I buried him on St. Michael's night, When the bell toll'd one, and the moon was bright, And I dug his chamber among the dead, When the floor of the chancel was stained red, That his patron's cross might over him wave, And scare the fiends from the Wizard's grave. XVI. "It was a night of woe and dread, -Still spoke the Monk, when the bell toll'd one !— Than William of Deloraine. good at need, XVII. "Lo, Warrior! now, the Cross of Red Slow moved the Monk to the broad flag-stone, An iron bar the Warrior took ;2 And the Monk made a sign with his wither'd hand, The grave's huge portal to expand. XVIII. With beating heart to the task he went; Till the toil-drops fell from his brows, like rain. It was by dint of passing strength, That he moved the massy stone at length. I would you had been there, to see Show'd the Monk's cowl, and visage pale, 1 See Appendix, Note 2 G. 2 Orig.-A bar from thence the warrior took. 8 "The agitation of the monk at the sight of the man whom he had loved with brotherly affection-the horror of Deloraine, and his belief that the corpse frowned, as he withdrew the XIX. Before their eyes the Wizard lay, A palmer's amice wrapp'd him round, The lamp was placed beside his knee: High and majestic was his look, At which the fellest fiends had shook, And all unruffled was his face: They trusted his soul had gotten grace.3 XX. Often had William of Deloraine And neither known remorse nor awe; He might not endure the sight to see, XXI. And when the priest his death-prayer had pray'd, Thus unto Deloraine he said : "Now, speed thee what thou hast to do, Or, Warrior, we may dearly rue; For those, thou may'st not look upon, Are gathering fast round the yawning stone!"Then Deloraine, in terror, took From the cold hand the Mighty Book, With iron clasp'd, and with iron bound: He thought, as he took it, the dead man frown'd;' But the glare of the sepulchral light, Perchance, had dazzled the warrior's sight. XXII. When the huge stone sunk o'er the tomb, The night return'd in double gloom; For the moon had gone down, and the stars were few; And, as the Knight and Priest withdrew, With wavering steps and dizzy brain, They hardly might the postern gain. "Tis said, as through the aisles they pass'd, magic volume from its grasp, are, in a succeeding part of the narrative, circumstances not more happily conceived than exquisitely wrought."-Critical Review. 4 See Appendix, Note 2 H. Loud sobs, and laughter louder, ran, Because these spells were brought to day. XXIII. "Now, hie thee hence," the Father said, "And when we are on death-bed laid, O may our dear Ladye, and sweet St. John, Forgive our souls for the deed we have done!"The Monk return'd him to his cell, And many a prayer and penance sped; When the convent met at the noontide bellThe Monk of St. Mary's aisle was dead! Before the cross was the body laid, With hands clasp'd fast, as if still he pray'd. XXIV. The Knight breathed free in the morning wind, He was glad when he pass'd the tombstones grey, And his joints, with nerves of iron twined, XXV. The sun had brighten'd Cheviot grey, The sun had brighten'd the Carter's' side; And soon beneath the rising day Smiled Branksome Towers and Teviot's tide.2 The wild birds told their warbling tale, And waken'd every flower that blows; And peeped forth the violet pale, And spread her breast the mountain rose. And lovelier than the rose so red, Yet paler than the violet pale, She early left her sleepless bed, The fairest maid of Teviotdale. XXVI. Why does fair Margaret so early awake,3 And don her kirtle so hastilie; And the silken knots, which in hurry she would make, Why tremble her slender fingers to tie; Why does she stop, and look often around, 1 A mountain on the Border of England, above Jedburgh. 2" How lovely and exhilarating is the fresh cool morning landscape which relieves the mind after the horrors of the spell-guarded tomb!"-ANNA SKWARD. And, though she passes the postern alone, Why is not the watchman's bugle blown? XXVII. The ladye steps in doubt and dread, Lest her watchful mother hear her tread; The lady caresses the rough blood-hound, Lest his voice should waken the castle round; The watchman's bugle is not blown, For he was her foster-father's son; And she glides through the greenwood at dawn of light To meet Baron Henry, her own true knight. XXVIII. The Knight and ladye fair are met, And under the hawthorn's boughs are set. To meet beneath the hawthorn green. He was stately, and young, and tall; XXIX. And now, fair dames, methinks I see Of two true lovers in a dale; And how the Knight, with tender fire, And how she blush'd, and how she sigh❜d, And said that she would die a maid ;— Yet, might the bloody feud be stay'd, Henry of Cranstoun, and only he, Margaret of Branksome's choice should be. XXXI. Beneath an oak, moss'd o'er by eld, And held his crested helm and spear: Through all the Border, far and near. A leap, of thirty feet and three, And lighted at Lord Cranstoun's knee. Lord Cranstoun was some whit dismay'd; 'Tis said that five good miles he rade, To rid him of his company; But where he rode one mile, the Dwarf ran four, And the Dwarf was first at the castle door. XXXII. Use lessens marvel, it is said: This elvish Dwarf with the Baron staid; And often mutter'd "Lost! lost! lost!" XXXIII. For the Baron went on pilgrimage, But the Ladye of Branksome gather'd a band 1 See Appendix, Note 2 I. 2 The idea of the imp domesticating himself with the first person he met, and subjecting himself to that one's authority, is perfectly consonant to old opinions. Ben Jonson, in his play of “The Devil is an Ass," has founded the leading incident of that comedy upon this article of the popular creed. A fiend, styled Pug, is ambitious of figuring in the world, and petitions his superior for permission to exhibit himself upon earth. The devil grants him a day-rule, but clogs it with this condition, "Satan-Only thus more, I bind you To serve the first man that you meet; and him Wat of Harden came thither amain, They were three hundred spears and three. XXXIV. And now, in Branksome's good green wood, The Dwarf waves his long lean arm on high, WHILE thus he pour'd the lengthen❜d tale Swell'd his old veins, and cheer'd his soul; Ere thus his tale again began. It is observable that in the same play, Pug alludes to the spareness of his diet. Mr. Scott's goblin, though "waspish, arch, and litherlie," proves a faithful and honest retainer to the lord, into whose service he had introduced himself. This sort of inconsistency seems also to form a prominent part of the diabolic character. Thus, in the romances of the Round Table, we find Merlin, the son of a devil, exerting himself most zealously in the cause of virtue and of religion, the friend and counsellor of King Arthur, the chastiser of wrongs, and the scourge of the infidels. 3 See Appendix, Note 2 K. 4 See notes on The Douglas Tragedy in the Minstrelsy, vol iii. p. 3.-ED. 5 Wood-pigeon. The Lay of the Last Minstrel. CANTO THIRD. I. AND said I that my limbs were old, II. In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, III. So thought Lord Cranstoun, as I ween, A stately knight came pricking on. IV. But no whit weary did he seem, He mark'd the crane on the Baron's crest;1 Few were the words, and stern and high, That mark'd the foemen's feudal hate; For question fierce, and proud reply, Gave signal soon of dire debate. And snorted fire, when wheel'd around, The crest of the Cranstouns, in allusion to their name, is a crane dormant, holding a stone in his foot, with an V In rapid round the Baron bent; He sigh❜d a sigh, and pray'd a prayer; The prayer was to his patron saint, The sigh was to his ladye fair. Stout Deloraine nor sigh'd nor pray'd, Nor saint, nor ladye, call'd to aid; But he stoop'd his head, and couch'd his spear, VI. Stern was the dint the Borderer lent! But Cranstoun's lance, of more avail, VII. But when he rein'd his courser round, For the kinsman of the maid he loved. VIII. Away in speed Lord Cranstoun rode; The dwarf espied the Mighty Book! Like a book-bosom'd priest should ride:2 He thought not to search or stanch the wound, Until the secret he had found. emphatic Border motto, Thou shall want ere I want 2 See Appendix, Note 2 L. IX. The iron band, the iron clasp, A sheeling seem a palace large, And youth seem age, and age seem youth-All was delusion, nought was truth.a X. He had not read another spell, The clasps, though smear'd with Christian gore, Shut faster than they were before. XI. Unwillingly himself he address'd, And the blood well'd freshly from the wound. XII. As he repass'd the outer court, XIII. He led the boy o'er bank and fell, Until they came to a woodland brook; The running stream dissolved the spell, And his own elvish shape he took. Could he have had his pleasure vilde, He had crippled the joints of the noble child; Or, with his fingers long and lean, Had strangled him in fiendish spleen: But his awful mother he had in dread, And also his power was limited; So he but scowl'd on the startled child, And darted through the forest wild; The woodland brook he bounding cross'd, And laugh'd, and shouted, "Lost! lost! lost!" XIV. Full sore amazed at the wondrous change, And frighten'd as a child might be, At the wild yell and visage strange, And the dark words of gramarye, The child, amidst the forest bower, Stood rooted like a lily flower; And when at length, with trembling pace, Glare from some thicket on his way. XV. And hark! and hark! the deep-mouth'd bark Soon as the wilder'd child saw he, I ween you would have seen with joy s Magic. 6 See Appendix, Note 2 0. |