Your cause of difference; and, Lord Lindesay, thou LIN. Ask the blue welkin-ask the silver Tay, Since you refer us thus to general fame That Berkeley slew thy brother, the Lord Louis, LIN. Ay, in his halls In his own halls, good father, that 's the word. A destined victim, train'd on to the doom His frantic jealousy prepared for me. And perish'd by his sword? 'Twas then I fought I loved this lady fondly-truly loved-- LIN. Follow me. Thou shalt hear me call the adul teress By her right name.-I'm glad there's yet a spur BER. Make then obeisance to the blessed Cross, [They are going off WAL. (rushing forward.) Madmen, stand!— And by the memory of that murder'd innocent, LIN. Wretch! thou didst first dishonour to thy (For sure not yet thy guilt is expiated!) victim, And then didst slay him! BER. There is a busy fiend tugs at my heart, Forgive me that I caused your brother's death; Stern ghost of her destroyer!——————— WAL. (throws back his cowl.) He hears! he hears. LIN. My brother! and alive! WAL. Alive, but yet, my Richard, dead to thee, LIN. Take worse and blacker.-Murderer, adulte- Thou hast brought vengeance hither. Art thou not moved yet? BER. BER. Father, forgive, and let me stand excused LIN. To do the act and duty of a brother. I but sought WAL. I ceased to be so when I left the world; But if he can forgive as I forgive, God sends me here a brother in mine enemy, BER. (gives his hand.) Go to his halls, Lord Richard, where a maiden, say, Woo her, and be successful. The Doom of Deborgoil. PREFACE. THE first of these dramatic pieces was long since written, for the purpose of obliging the late Mr. Terry, then Manager of the Adelphi Theatre, for whom the Author had a particular regard. The manner in which the mimic goblins of Devorgoil are intermixed with the supernatural machinery, was found to be objectionable, and the production had other faults, which rendered it unfit for representation. I have called the piece a Melo-drama, for want of a better name; but, as I learn from the unquestionable authority of Mr. Colman's Random Records, that one species of the drama is termed an extravaganza, I am sorry I was not sooner aware of a more appropriate name than that which I had selected for Devorgoil. The Author's Publishers thought it desirable, that the scenes, long condemned to oblivion, should be united to similar attempts of the same kind; and as he felt indifferent on the subject, they are printed in the same volume with Halidon Hill and MacDuff's Cross, and thrown off in a separate form, for the convenience of those who possess former editions of the Author's Poetical Works. The general story of the Doom of Devorgoil is founded on an old Scottish tradition, the scene of which lies in Galloway. The crime supposed to have occasioned the misfortunes of this devoted house, is similar to that of a Lord Herries of Hoddam Castle, who is the principal personage of Mr. Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe's interesting ballad, in the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vol. iv., p. 307. In remorse for his crime, he built the singular monument called the Tower of Repentance. In many cases the Scottish superstitions allude to the fairies, or those who, for sins of a milder description, are permitted to wander with the "rout that never rest," as they were termed by Dr. Leyden. They imitate human labour and human amusements, but their toil is useless, and without any advantageous result; and their gaiety is unsubstantial and hollow. The phantom of Lord Erick is supposed to be a spectre of this character. The story of the Ghostly Barber is told in many countries; but the best narrative founded on the passage, is the tale called Stumme Liebe, among the legends of Musæus. I think it has been introduced upon the English stage in some pantomime, which was one objection to bringing it upon the scene a second time. ABBOTSFORD, April, 1830. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. OSWALD OF DEVORGOIL, a decayed Scottish Baron. LANCELOT BLACKTHORN, a Companion of Leonard, in love with Katleen. GULLCRAMMER, a conceited Student. OWLSPIEGLE and Maskers, represented by BluckCOCKLEDEMOY, thorn and Katleen. SPIRIT OF LORD ERICK OF DEVORGOIL. Peasants, Shepherds, and Vassals of inferior rank. ELEANOR, Wife of Oswald, descended of obscure FLORA, Daughter of Oswald. The Boom of Beborgoil. ACT I-SCENE I. The Scene represents a wild and hilly, but not a mountainous Country, in a frontier District of Scotland. The flat Scene exhibits the Castle of Devorgoil, decayed, and partly ruinous, situated upon a Lake, and connected with the Land by a Drawbridge, which is lowered. Time-Sunset. FLORA enters from the Castle, looks timidly around, then comes forward and speaks. He is not here-those pleasures are not ours SONG.3 The sun upon the lake is low, The wild birds hush their song, "The Doom of Devorgoil," and "Auchindrane," were published together in an octavo volume, in the spring of 1830. For the origin and progress of the first, see Life of Scott, vol. V., pp. 197-204, 285-6. 2 Mr. Daniel Terry, the comedian, distinguished for a very peculiar style of humour on the stage, and, moreover, by personal accomplishments of various sorts not generally shared by members of his profession, was, during many years, on terms of intimacy with Sir Walter Scott. He died 22d June 1829. 3 The author thought of omitting this song, which was, in fact, abridged into one in "Quentin Durward," termed County Guy. [Sce ante, p. 701.] It seemed, however, necessary to the sense, that the original stanzas should be retained here. The hills have evening's deepest glow, Yet Leonard tarries long. Now all whom varied toil and care From home and love divide, In the calm sunset may repair Each to the loved one's side. The noble dame, on turret high, The flash of armour bright. The village maid, with hand on brow, The level ray to shade, For Colin's darkening plaid. Now to their mates the wild swans row, By day they swam apart, And to the thicket wanders slow The hind beside the hart. All meet whom day and care divide, [KATLEEN has come out of the Castle while FLORA was singing, and speaks when the Song is ended. FLO. Were famishing the word, KAT. Ah, my dear coz!—if that your mother's My cottage wisdom ought to echo back,— niece May so presume to call your father's daughter- FLO. How call you, then, this castle of my sire, KAT. Dungeons for men, and palaces for owls; The cat is in the kitchen-chimney seated Upon our last of fagots, destined soon To dress our last of suppers, and, poor soul, Is starved with cold, and mewling mad with hunger. FLO. D'ye mock our misery, Katleen? So I must laugh or cry, and laughing 's lightest. KAT. No, thanks to Heaven! O the snug parsonage! the well-paid stipend ! FLO. Mock me not with a title, gentle cousin, [Trumpets far off. Hark! they have broken up the weapon-shawing; The vassals are dismiss'd, and marching homeward. KAT. Comes your sire back to-night? FLO. He did purpose Which some chance breeze may haply blow aside Enter LANCELOT BLACKTHORN, a Forester, with the A swallow cross'd mine eye too-Will you tell me Because my powder happen'd to be damp, FIRST VAS. Faith, not unlikely, neighbours; for these foresters KAT. Godden, good yeoman.-Come you from the Do often haunt about this ruin'd castle. The produce of your hunting. BLA. But I must, though. This is his lair to-night, for Leonard Dacre Charged me to leave the stag at Devorgoil; Then show me quickly where to stow the quarry, And let me to the sports-(more shots.) Come, hasten, damsels! FLO. It is impossible-we dare not take it. BLA. There let it lie, then, and I'll wind my bugle, That all within these tottering walls may know [About to blow. KAT. (to FLO.) He will alarm your mother; and, besides, Our Forest proverb teaches, that no question Should ask where venison comes from. Your careful mother, with her wonted prudence, Will hold its presence plead its own apology.Come, Blackthorn, I will show you where to stow it. [Exeunt KATLEEN and BLACKTHORN into the Castle more shooting-then a distant shout Stragglers, armed in different ways, pass over the Stage, as if from the Weaponshaw. FLO. The prize is won; that general shout proclaim'd it. The marksmen and the vassals are dispersing. [She draws back. FIRST VASSAL (a peasant.) Ay, ay,-'tis lost and won, the Forest have it. 'Tis they have all the luck on't. SECOND VAS. (a shepherd.) Luck, sayst thou, man? 'Tis practice, skill, and cunning. THIRD VAS. 'Tis no such thing.-I had hit the mark precisely, But for this cursed flint; and, as I fired, I've seen myself this spark,-young Leonard Dacre,— SHEP. That have they not. I 've heard my father say, Ghosts dance as lightly in its moonlight halls, FIRST VAS. Those that frequent such spirit-haunted ruins Must needs know more than simple Christians do.See, Lance this blessed moment leaves the castle, And comes to triumph o'er us. [BLACKTHORN enters from the Castle, and comes forward while they speak. THIRD VAS. A mighty triumph! What is 't, after all, Except the driving of a piece of lead,As learned Master Gullcrammer defined it,Just through the middle of a painted board. BLACK. And if he so define it, by your leave, Your learned Master Gullcrammer's an ass. THIRD VAS. (angrily.) He is a preacher, huntsman, under favour. SECOND VAS. No quarrelling, neighbours-you may both be right. Enter a FOURTH VASSAL, with a gallon stoup of wine. FOURTH VAS. Why stand you brawling here! Young Leonard Dacre Has set abroach the tun of wine he gain'd, That all may drink who list. Blackthorn, I sought you; Your comrade prays you will bestow this flagon Where you have left the deer you kill'd this morning. BLACK. And that I will; but first we will take toll To see if it's worth carriage. Shepherd, thy horn. There must be due allowance made for leakage, And that will come about a draught a-piece. Skink it about, and, when our throats are liquor'd, We'll merrily trowl our song of weaponshaw. [They drink about out of the SHEPHERD's ra and then sing. SONG. We love the shrill trumpet, we love the drum's rattle, They call us to sport, and they call us to battle; And old Scotland shall laugh at the threats of a stranger, Whom have we here?-that ancient fortune-teller, While our comrades in pastime are comrades in danger. Old Bauldie Durward! Would I were well past him! If there 's mirth in our house, 'tis our neighbour that If peril approach, 'tis our neighbour that dares it; Then close your ranks, comrades, the bands that com- BLACK. Well, I must do mine errand. Master flagon Is too consumptive for another bleeding. [DURWARD advances, partly in the dress of a DUR. The blessing of the evening on your worship, Are gathering to the bursting. And see if that has given up the ghost yet. [BLACKTHORN enters the Castle, the rest exeunt Hath graced with license both to teach and preach- Trim sits thy cloak, unruffled is thy band, [Touches his shoe, and smiles complacently. Ere her proud sire return. He loves me not, And a bare one; Construe me that, old man!-The crofts of Muckle whame Destined for mine so soon as heaven and earth A female palfrey eke-I will be candid, DUR. She hath her follower too,-when thou art GUL. I say to thee, these crofts of Mucklewhame, 1 MS.-"That you should walk in such trim guise." |