1 Fortune's Tavern-a house on the west side of the Old Stamp-office Close, High Street, and which was, in the early part of the last century, the mansion of the Earl of Eglintoun. -The Lord High Commissioner to the General Assembly of the day held his levees and dinners in this tavern. 2 Hunter's-another once much-frequented tavern, in Writer's Court, Royal Exchange. 3 Bayle's Tavern and Coffeehouse, originally on the North Bridge, east side, afterwards in Shakspeare Square, but removed to admit of the opening of Waterloo Place. Such was the dignified character of this house, that the waiter always Weel, sirs, gude'en, and have a care, The bairns mak fun o' Meg nae mair; For gin they do, she tells you fair, And without failzie, As sure as ever ye sit there, She'll tell the Bailie Epilogue. 1824. THE sages for authority, pray look A third wanes fast, since Mary fill'd the throne. Shall sympathy with Mary's woes be lost } In vain did fate bestow a double dower appeared in full dress, and nobody was admitted who had not a white neckcloth-then considered an indispensable insignium of a gentleman. 4 Mr. William Murray became manager of the Edinburgh Theatre in 1815. 5 "I recovered the above with some difficulty. I believe it was never spoken, but written for some play, afterwards withdrawn, in which Mrs. H. Siddons was to have spoken it in the character of Queen Mary."-Extract from a Letter of Sir Walter Scott to Mr. Constable, 22d October, 1824. The boy who remembered the scourge, undid the You are our captive--but we'll use you so, wicket of the castle at midnight. Kindness fadeth away, but vengeance endureth. Lightning destroyeth temples, though their spires pierce the clouds; That you shall think your prison joys may match And, lingering to see your roses blossom Storms destroy armadas, though their sails inter- I've let my laurels wither. cept the gale. He that is in his glory falleth, and that by a con temptible enemy. Kindness fadeth away, but vengeance endureth. Old Play. "Now bless'd be the moment, the messenger be And now must the faith of my mistress be shown: blest! Much honor'd do I hold me in my lady's high behest! And say unto my lady, in this dear night-weed dress'd, To the best arm'd champion I will not veil my crest; For she who prompts knights on such danger to rea "I restore,' says my master, 'the garment I've worn, And I claim of the Princess to don it in turn; But if I live and bear me well, 'tis her turn to take For its stains and its rents she should prize it the the test." Here, gentles, ends the foremost fytte of the Lay Since by shame 'tis unsullied, though crimson'd of the Bloody Vest. THE BLOODY VEST. FYTTE SECOND. THE Baptist's fair morrow beheld gallant feats- The victors won glory, the vanquish'd won graves. There were some dealt him wounds that were But others respected his plight, and forbore. cease, He flung down his warder, the trumpets sung peace; And the judges declare, and competitors yield, That the Knight of the Night-gear was first in the field. The feast it was nigh, and the mass it was nigher, All rent and all tatter'd, all clotted with blood, "This token my master, Sir Thomas a Kent, more, with gore." [press'd Then deep blush'd the Princess-yet kiss'd she and The blood-spotted robes to her lips and her breast. "Go tell my true knight, church and chamber shall show If I value the blood on this garment or no." And when it was time for the nobles to pass, And eke, in the hall, where they all sat at dine Then lords whisper'd ladies, as well you may think, spilt; |