CHAPTER X.
I want none of your gold, Douglas, I want none of your fee, But swear by the faith of thy right hand That you'll love only me: And I'll leave my country and my kin And wend along with thee.
_May Marley._
When the mass, and a plentiful morning meal, were over next day, everyone began to prepare for such exercises as the season admitted. Alllingered about for some time, but seeing that no orders were likely tobe given out for any procession or general rendezvous during the day,which every one had expected, some betook them to the chace, others toequestrian exercises with sword and spear, while the Homes and theGordons joined in an excursion into English ground, keeping along thesouthern bank of the Tweed. The King observing them all about todisperse, reminded the Douglas that it was a high festal day; onwhich the latter made a low obeisance, and remarked, that he was onlynow a guest in the castle of Roxburgh, and that his honoured liegesovereign was host; that his foresters and sumptuary officers had gottimeous notice, and nothing would be lacking that his Majesty coulddesire for the entertainment of his nobles and friends. The King thencaused it to be intimated, that he would be happy to meet all hislords and nobles in the banquet-hall at even-tide, where every knight,gentleman, and yeoman, were expected to attend in their severalplaces, and all should be heartily welcome. "And now, Lord Douglas,"said he, leading the way into an anti-chamber, "let us two retire byourselves, and consult what is to be done next."
Lord Douglas followed, but ill prepared to answer the inquiries aboutto be put to him. He had received injunctions of secrecy from one whohad in no instance misled him, and to whom he had been of lateindebted for the preservation of his life. But how was he now toconduct himself, or how answer his sovereign in any other way thanaccording to the truth as it had been stated unto him? His predicamentwas a hard one; for he was, in the first place, ashamed of the part hehad acted, of never having discovered his royal mistress whileattached to his side, notwithstanding of all the evidences inconfirmation of the fact, which he had never once seen till too late.And then to have suffered even his mistress' page to fall a victim tosuch a shameful death, without either making an effort to save him, orso much as missing him from his hand, or mentioning his loss,--werecircumstances not quite consistent with the high spirit of gallantry, aswell as chivalry, he had displayed at first by the perilous undertaking.Gladly would he have kept his knowledge of the transaction a secret; butthen there was the monk Benjamin, who, by some supernatural agency, hadbeen given to understand the whole scope and tenor of it; and there wasdame Mary Kirkmichael knew the whole, except the degrading catastrophe,and had unfolded it all to him when it was too late. He run over allthese things in his mind, and was as little, as at any previous period,prepared what part to act, when the King turned round, and, in the mostanxious and earnest manner, said, "Lord Douglas, where is our daughter?"
"My liege lord and sovereign, ought not I rather to have asked thatquestion of you?" said the Douglas: "And I would have done it at ourfirst meeting, only that I would not trifle with your feelings on sucha serious matter, perceiving that you laboured under a grievousmisconception regarding my conduct. You have not, it seems, broughtthe princess Margaret along with you, as was expected by all myfriends and followers?"
"Not by yourself, I am certain. I say, Lord Douglas, where is mydaughter? I demand a categorical answer."
"Sire, in what way am I accountable for your daughter?"
"Lord Douglas, I hate all evasion. I request an answer as expressas my question. I know my darling child, in admiration of yourchivalrous enterprise, resolved, in the true spirit of this romanticage, to take some active part in the perils undertaken solely on heraccount: I know her ingenuity, which was always boundless, wasinstrumental in performing some signal services to you; and thatfinally she attached herself to your side in a disguise which shedeemed would ensure her a kind and honourable protection. Thus far Iknow; and, though the whole was undertaken and transacted without myknowledge, when I was absent in the Highlands, I am certain as to thetruth of every circumstance; and I am farther certified that you knowall this."
"Hear me, my liege sovereign. Admitting that your daughter, or anyother king's, lord's, or commoner's daughter, should put herself intoa page's raiment, and"----
"Silence, lord!" cried the King, furiously, interrupting him: "Am I tobe mocked thus, and answered only with circumlocution, notwithstandingmy express command to the contrary? Answer me in one word. My Lord ofDouglas, where is my daughter?"
"Where God will, sire," was the short and emphatic reply. The kingeyed Douglas with a keen and stern regard, and the eagle eye of thelatter met that of his sovereign without any abashment. But yet thislook of the Douglas, unyielding as it was, manifested no daring oroffensive pride; it was one rather of stern sorrow and regret;nevertheless he would not withdraw it, but, standing erect, he lookedKing Robert in the face, until the eyes of the latter were graduallyraised from his toward heaven. "Almighty Father!" cried he, claspinghis hands together,--"Where, then, is it thy will that my belovedchild should be? O Douglas! Douglas! In the impatience and warmth oftemper peculiar to my race, I was offended at your pertinacity; but Idread it was out of respect to a father's feelings. I forgive it, nowthat I see you are affected, only, in pity to this yearning bosom,relate to me all that you know. Douglas! can you not inform me whathas befallen to my daughter?"
"No, my liege, I cannot. I know nothing, or at least little save fromreport; but the little that I have heard, and the little that I haveseen, shall never be reported by my tongue."
"Then hope is extinct!" cried the King. "The scene that can draw tearsfrom the stern eye of the Douglas, even by an after reflection, is oneunmeet for a parent's ear. The will of the Almighty be done! He hathgiven and he hath taken away: blessed be his name! But why have themen of my household, and the friends in whom I trusted, combinedagainst my peace?" The King said this in a querulous mood. "Why didyou not tell me sooner?" cried he, turning to Douglas, his tonealtering gradually from one of penitence and deep humiliation to oneof high displeasure: "Why bring me on this fool's errand, when I oughtto have been sitting in sack-cloth and ashes, and humbling myself forthe sins of my house? These must have been grievous indeed, that havedrawn down such punishments on me. But the indifference of those inwhom we trusted is the worst of all! O, my child! My darling child,Margaret! Never was there a parent so blest in a daughter as I was inthee! The playfulness of the lamb or the kid,--the affection ofthe turtle-dove, were thine. Thy breast was all enthusiasm andbenevolence, and every emotion of thy soul as pure as the ray ofheaven. I loved thee with more than parental affection, and, if I ambereaved of thee, I will go mourning to my grave. Is there no one inthis place that can inform me of my daughter's fate? Her ladyconfidant, I understand, is still lingering here. Send for herinstantly. Send for her confessor also, that I may confront youaltogether, and ascertain the hideous and unwelcome truth. If I cannothave it here, I shall have it elsewhere, or wo be to all that haveeither been instrumental in her fate or lax in warding it off! Do youthink, Lord of Douglas, that I can be put off with a hum and a haw,and a shake of the head, and, 'it's 'God's will?' Do you think Ishould, when I am inquiring about my own daughter, whom I helddearest of all earthly beings? No, I'll scrutinize it to a pin'spoint. I'll wring every syllable of the truth out of the most secretheart and the most lying tongue. I'll move heaven and hell, but I'llknow every circumstance that has befallen to my daughter. Send, I say,for her foster-sister and faithful attendant, dame Mary Kirkmichael.Send also for her confessor, and for all to whom she has but oncespoken since she arrived here. Why are they not sent for before thistime?"
"My liege lord, restrain your impatience. They are sent for; but theywill tell you nothing that can mitigate your sorrow. If it be all truethat has been told to me, and that you yourself have told to me, ofthe disguise the Princess assumed, then is it also true that you willnever again see your daughter in this state of existence."
/> "Ah! is it even so! Then is the flower of the realm fallen! then isthe solace of my old age departed! But she is happy in the realms ofblessedness. While love, joy, and truth are the delight of heaven,there will my Margaret find a place! O, that she had staid by herfather's hand! Why was my jewel entrusted to the care and honour ofthose who care but for themselves, and who have suffered the loveliestflower of the world to be cropped in its early blossom? nay, left itto be sullied and trodden down in forgetfulness. Lord Douglas, did yousee my daughter perish?"
"Now, my liege lord, can I act the man no longer. Forgive me; and maythe holy Virgin, the mother of God, forgive me; for I indeed saw withthese eyes that inestimable treasure cut off, without one effort on mypart to save her, and without a tear wetting my cheeks."
"Then may all the powers of darkness blast thy soul, thou unfeelingtraitor! Thus! thus will I avenge me on the culprit who could give uphis sovereign's daughter, and his own betrothed bride, to a violentdeath, and that without a tear! O thou incarnate fiend! shalt thou notbewail this adown the longest times of eternity? Darest thou not drawagainst an injured father and king?"
"Put up thy sword, sire. The Douglas draws not but on his equals, andthou art none of them. Thy person is sacred and thy frame debilitated.He holds thee inviolate; but he holds thee also as nothing!"
"Thou shall know, proud lord, that the King of Scotland fears nosingle arm, and that he can stand on one limb to avenge the blood ofhis royal house."
"My gracious lord, this is the mere raving of a wounded spirit, and Igrieve that I should have for one moment regarded it otherwise thanwith veneration. I had deserved to die an hundred deaths, if I hadknown who the dear sufferer was; but, alas! I know not ought of thesex or rank of my page, who was taken prisoner in the great nightengagement. But I can tell you no more, Sire; nor is it needful; younow know all. I am guiltless as the babe unborn of my royal mistress'sblood; but I will never forgive myself for my negligence and want ofperception; nor do I anticipate any more happiness in this world. Ihave been laid under some mysterious restraints, and have suffereddeeply already. And now, my gracious lord, I submit myself to yourawards."
"Alas, Lord Douglas, you are little aware of the treasure you havelost. Your loss is even greater than mine. It behoves us, therefore, tolament and bewail our misfortunes together, rather than indulge inbitter upbraidings."
Here they were interrupted by the entrance of the Queen, who broughtwith her the Lady Jane Howard, dressed in a style of easternmagnificence, to introduce her to the King. The King, amid all the griefthat overwhelmed his spirit, was struck with her great beauty, and paidthat respect and homage to her which high birth and misfortune alwayscommand from the truly great; and the Queen, with the newfangledness ofher sex, appeared wholly attached to this captive stranger, and hadbrought her down at that time to intercede with the King and LordDouglas for her liberty, loading her with commendations and kindattentions. To check the Queen's volatility of spirits, the Kinginformed her shortly of the irreparable loss both of them had suffered,but the effect was manifestly not at all proportionate to the cause. Sheappeared indeed much moved, and had well nigh fallen into hysterics; butif her grief was not assumed, it bore strong symptoms of being so. Shefirst railed at, and then tried to comfort the Douglas; but finallyturned again to Lady Jane, (who wept bitterly, out of true sympathy, forthe Princess's cruel and untimely fate,) and caressed her, trying toconsole her in the most extravagant terms. The King, on the other hand,sobbed from his inmost soul, and bewailed his loss in terms so patheticand moving, that the firm soul of Douglas was overcome, and he enteredinto all his Sovereign's feelings with the keenest sensations. It was ascene of sorrow and despair, which was rather increased than mitigatedby the arrival of two more who had lately been sent for. These were themonk Benjamin and the lady Mary Kirkmichael, whom the King began anew toexamine, dwelling on every circumstance that occurred during the courseof his darling child's extravagant adventure with a painful anxiety. Butevery now and then he became heated with anger, blaming some one for thewant of discernment or respect. When he came to examine the monk, whoshewed great energy and acuteness of speech, he lost his temperaltogether at some part of the colloquy; but the monk was not to bedaunted; he repelled every invective with serenity of voice and manner,and at sundry times rather put the monarch to shame.
"Hadst thou ever an opportunity of confessing and shriving my child,previous to the time she fell into the hands of her enemies, reverendbrother."
"No Sire, she never made confession to me, nor asked absolution at myhand."
"And wherefore didst thou not proffer it, thou shriveled starveling?Were there no grants to bestow? no rich benefices to confer for thewell-being of a royal virgin's soul, that caused thee to withold thesepoor alms of grace? Who was it that bestowed on thy unconscionableorder all that they possess in this realm? And yet thou wilt sufferone of their posterity to come into thy cell, to ask thy assistance,without bestowing a mass or benediction for the sake of heaven."
"Sire, it is only to the ignorant and the simple that we proffer ourghostly rites. Those who are enlightened in the truths and mysteriesof religion it behoves to judge for themselves, and to themselves weleave the state of their consciences, in all ordinary cases." The monkwas robed in a very wide flowing grey frock, and cowled over the eyes,while his thin and effeminate-looking beard trembled adown his breastwith the fervency of his address. As he said these last words, hestretched his right hand forth toward the King, and raising the leftup behind him, his robe was by that means extended and spread forth ina manner that increased the tiny monk to triple the size he wasbefore. "And for you, King of Scotland," added he, raising his keenvoice that quavered with energy, "I say such a demeanour is unseemly.Is it becoming the head and guardian of the Christian church in thisrealm,--him that should be a pattern to all in the lower walks oflife,--thus to threat and fume beneath the chastening of his Maker?You ask me who bestowed these ample bounds on my order? I ask you inreturn who it was that bestowed them on thy progenitors and thee, andfor what purpose? Who gave thee a kingdom, a people, and a family ofthy own? Was it not he before whose altar thou hast this day kneeled,and vowed to be for him and not for another? And what he has bestowedhas he not a right to require of thee again, in his own time, and inhis own way?" The King bowed with submission to the truth of this boldexpostulation, and the impetuous and undaunted monk went on: "It israther thy duty, most revered monarch, to bow with deep humiliation tothe righteous awards of the Almighty, for just and righteous they are,however unequal they may appear to the purblind eyes of mortal men. Ifhe has taken a beloved child from thee, rest assured that he has onlysnatched her from evil to come, and translated her to a better and ahappier home. Why then wilt thou not acknowledge the justice of thisdispensation, and rather speak comfort to the weaker vessels than giveway to ill-timed and unkingly wrath.
"As for thee, noble lord, to the eyes of men thine may appear a hardlot indeed. For the love of one thou adventuredst thy life and thevery existence of thy house and name. The stake was prodigious, andwhen thou hadst won it with great labour and perseverance, the prizewas snatched from thy grasp. Thy case will to all ages appear apeculiarly hard one; still there is this consolation in it--"
"There is no grain of consolation in it," said Douglas interruptinghim: "There can be none! The blow on my head, and my hopes ofhappiness, is irretrievable."
"Yes lord, there is," said the monk; "for has it not been decreed inheaven above, that this union was never to be consummated? Man maypropose and scheme and lay out plans for futurity, but it is good forhim that the fulfilment is vested in other hands than his. This thenis consolation, to know that it was predestinated in the counsels ofone who cannot err, that that royal maid never was to be thine; andtherefore all manner of repining is not only unmanly and unmeet, butsinful. It behoves now thy sovereign, in reward of thy faithfulservices, to bestow on thee another spouse with the same dowry hemeant to bestow on his daughter. And it behoves you to accept
of thisas the gift of heaven, proffered to thee in place of the one itsnatched from thy grasp. As its agent, therefore, and the promoter ofpeace, love, and happiness among men, I propose that King Robertbestow upon thee this noble and high born dame for thy consort. Bothof you have been bereaved of those to whom you were betrothed, and itcannot fail to strike every one that this seems a fortune appointedfor you two by Providence; nor can I form in my mind the slightestobjection that can be urged to it on either side. It is desirable onevery account, and may be the means of promoting peace between the twosister kingdoms, wasted by warfare and blood, which every trueChristian must deplore. I propose it as a natural consequence, and athing apparently foreordained by my master; and give my voice for it.King and Queen of Scotland what say you?"
"I hold the matter that this holy and enlightened brother hasuttered to be consistent with truth, reason, and religion," said theKing,--"and the union has my hearty and free approval. I fartherpromise to behave to this lady as a father to a daughter, and tobestow upon our trusty and leal cousin, the Lord Douglas, suchhonours, power, and distinction as are most due for the great servicesrendered to this realm. The match has my hearty concurrence."
"And mine," said the Queen: "I not only acquiesce in the reverendbrother's proposal, but I lay my commands on my noble kinsman the LordDouglas to accept of this high boon of heaven."
"Pause my sovereign lady," said the Douglas, "before you proceed toofar. In pity to the feelings that rend this bosom, let me hear no moreof the subject at present. In pity to that lovely and angelic lady'sfeelings, that must be acute as my own, I implore that you will notinsist farther in this proposal. Do not wound a delicate femalebreast, pressed down by misfortunes."
"This is something like affectation, Lord Douglas," rejoined theQueen: "If I answer for the lady Jane's consent, what have you then tosay against this holy brother's proposal?"
"Ay, if your Queen stand security for the lady's consent, and if _Istand security for it likewise_," said the monk--"what have you to sayagainst the union then? Look at her again, lord. Is not she _a lovely_and _angelic_ being? Confess the truth now. For I know it to be thetruth, that never since you could distinguish beauty from deformity,have your eyes beheld _so lovely_ and _so angelic_ a lady? Presseddown by misfortunes, too! Does that not add a triple charm to all herexcellencies? You know what has been done for her? what has beensuffered for her? what a noble and gallant life was laid down forher? Was such a sacrifice ever made for a lady or princess of yourown country? No, never, heroic lord! Therefore bless your stars thathave paved out a way for your union with such a _lovely_, _angelic_,and _matchless lady_; and take her! take her to your longing andaching bosom."
"Moderate your fervour, holy brother," said the Douglas, "whichappears to me rather to be running to unwarrantable extremes. Grantingthat the lady Jane Howard is perhaps unequalled in beauty and elegantaccomplishments----"
"Is she not so? Is she not so?" cried the monk with a fervour thatraised his voice to a scream of passion: "Did I not say that she was?And now am I not warranted by your own sentiments, _freely expressed_enough. Sure, lord, you cannot deny that I said, that I told you, thelady was _peerless in beauty and accomplishments_? I knew it, and toldyou before that she was the _queen of beauty_. Why then do youhesitate, and make all this foolish opposition to an union which weall know you are eager to consummate? Yes; you are: And we all knowit. You are!"
"Holy brother, what unaccountable phrenzy has seized upon you," saidthe Douglas; "and why all this extravagant waste of declamation? Letme not hear another sentence, nor another word on the subject: onlysuffer me to finish what I had begun. I say then, granting that thelady Jane were peerless in beauty and accomplishments, still there isan impression engraven on my heart that can never be removed, or giveplace to another; and there will I cherish it as sacred, till the dayof my death. And, that no reckless importunity may ever be wasted onme again, here I kneel before the holy rood, which I kiss, and swearbefore God and his holy angels, that since I have been bereaved of thesovereign mistress of my heart and all my affections,--of her in whomall my hopes of happiness in this world were placed, and who to me wasall in all of womankind--that never shall another of the sex be foldedin the arms of Douglas, or call him husband! So help me thou BlessedOne, and all thy holy saints and martyrs, in the performance of thisvow!"
During the time of this last speech and solemn oath, the sobs of themonk Benjamin became so audible that all eyes were turned to him, forthey thought that his delicate frame would burst with its emotions.And, besides, he was all the while fumbling about his throat, so thatthey dreaded he had purposed some mortal injury to himself. But inplace of that, he had been unloosing some clasps or knots about histunick; for with a motion quicker than thought, he flung at once hiscowl, frock, and beard away,--and there stood arrayed as a royal bridethe Princess Margaret of Scotland! "Journeyer of earth, where art thounow?"
Yes; there stood, in one moment, disclosed to the eyes of all present,_the princess Margaret Stuart herself_, embellished in all theornaments of virgin royalty, and blooming in a glow of new bornbeauties."
"Thank heaven I have been deceived!" cried she, with great emphasis;and when she had said this, she stood up motionless by the side oflady Jane Howard, and cast her eyes on the ground. No pen can dojustice to the scene. It must be left wholly to conception, after thefact is told that no one present had the slightest conception of thedisguise save the Queen, who had been initiated into the princess'sproject of trying the real state of the Douglas's affections on thepreceding night. It was like a scene of enchantment, such as mighthave been produced at the castle of Aikwood. But a moment ago all wassorrow and despair; now all was one burst of joyful surprise. And, tomake it still more interesting, there stood the two rival beauties ofScotland and England, side by side, as if each were vying with theother for the palm to be bestowed on her native country. But to thisday the connoisseurs in female beauty have never decided whether thedark falcon eyes and lofty forehead of the one, or the soft blushingroses and blue liquid eyes of the other, were the most irresistible.
The King was the first to burst from the silence of surprise. He flewto his daughter's arms with more vigour than a cripple could well besupposed to exert, kissed and embraced her, took her on his knee andwept on her neck; then, striking his crutch on the floor, he scoldedher most heartily for the poignant and unnecessary pain she hadoccasioned to him. "And the worst of it is," added he, "that you havecaused me show too much interest in an imp that has been the constantplague of my life with her whims and vagaries; an interest, and anintensity of feeling, that I shall be ashamed of the longest day Ihave to live."
"Indeed but you shall not, my dear lord and father, for I will nowteaze another than you, and teaze him only to deeds of valour andrenown; to lead your troops to certain conquest, till you are fullyavenged of the oppressors of your people."
Mary Kirkmichael hung by her seymar and wept. The Douglas kneeled ather feet, and in an ecstacy took her hand and pressed it to his lips."I do not know whether or not I shall have reason to bless heaven allmy life for this singular restoration," said he; "but for the presentI do it with all my heart. Tell me, thou lovely cameleon, what am I tothink of this? Wert thou indeed, as was related to me, the page ColinRoy Macalpin? He with the carroty locks and the flippant tongue?"
"You need not doubt it, lord Douglas. I was. And I think during ourfirst intimacy that I teazed you sufficiently."
"Then that delicate neck of yours, for all its taper form and lily hueis a charmed one, and rope proof; for, sure as I look on you now, Isaw you swing from a beam's end on the battlement of this same tower."
"Oh! no, no, my lord! It was not I. Never trust this head again if itshould suffer its neck to be noosed. _You_ suffered it though; thatyou must confess. And I dare say, though a little sorry, felt a deadweight removed from about your neck. You suffered me to be takenprisoner out of your tent, and mured up among rude and desperate menin a dungeon. It cost me all my wit
s then to obtain my release. But Ieffected it. Swung from a beam's end. quoth he! Och! what a vulgaridea! No my lord, the page whom you saw swung was a _tailor'sapprentice_, whom I hired to carry a packet up to your lordship, withmy green suit of clothes, and a promise of a high place of preferment,and I kept my word to the brat! An intolerable ape it was. Many betterlives have been lost in this contention; few of less value--I neverdeemed he was so soon to be strung, and my heart smote me for the partI had acted. But the scheme of turning monk and confessor suited mebest of all: I then got my shacles of mystery riveted on you; and,heavens! what secrets I have found out."
At this part of the narrative, Isaac the curate bestows a wholechapter and a half on the description of the wedding, and all theprocessions, games, and feasting that ensued; but as none of thesethings bore the slightest resemblance to ought that has ever beenwitnessed in the present age, like a judicious editor I have passedthem over. Suffice it that the Border never witnessed such splendor ofarray, such tournaments, such feasting, and such high wassail. Forwhy? because it never witnessed the marriage of a king's daughterbefore. The streets of the city, and the square of the fortress, thathad so lately been dyed with blood, now "ran red with Rhenish wine."And be it farther known, that Sir Charles Scott and his horse Corbiebore off every prize in the tilting matches, till at last no knightwould enter the lists with him; but the fair dames were all inraptures with the gallantry of his bearing, and the suavity of hismanners. As for the Queen, she became so much enamoured of the hero,that she was scarcely to be kept in due bounds, and if she had notbeen advanced in years he might have deemed she was in love with him.In the lists she drew up her snow-white palfrey by Corbie's side, andin the revel hall the royal dame herself was sure to be at theknight's side, except when at table, on pretence of hearing somethingmore about his perils at Aikwood, and in particular about the scenewith the beautiful and splendid witches; at which, as Sir Charlesrelated it with abashed countenance, the Queen and her Maries laughedtill the salt tears ran from their eyes. As for the description oftheir appearance the succeeding morning, and the feelings of thewarrior, both then and afterward when transformed to a huge bull,these never failed to throw the gamesome group into convulsions ofmirth. In short, the knight of Raeburn was of all the gallants quitethe favourite at that splendid festival in the hall, as well as thehero in the lists, in which he six times received the prize of honourfrom the hands of the royal bride and those of lady Jane Howard, who,at the Queen's earnest request was made principal bride's-maid, andpresiding lady at the sports.
But if Charles was the hero of those engaged in the games, his friendthe gospel friar was as completely so among the gay onlookers, andcreated them more sport often than all in the lists. Ever since thevarious affrays in which his mule had been engaged, and come off withsuch decided success, the mongrel had learned to value himself solelyas a beast of warfare, and no man who rode near him was sure ofkeeping his seat a minute, especially if he rode a high mettled andcapricious charger. By the side of a horse of modesty that borehimself with candour and humility of countenance, the mule was a beastof sociality and decorum; but whenever he saw a steed begin to cutany unnecessary capers, he deemed himself insulted or put to thechallenge, and on the instant began to lay back his long ears andswitch with his tail, while his grey sunk eyes emitted a hellishgleam. It was no matter at what distance such a horse made hisappearance, if the mule disliked his deportment, he would have flownacross a whole field to attack and humble him. He had borne his masterheadlong into so many unpremeditated and unwarrantable scuffles sincehis return from Aikwood, that he had bestowed on him the name ofGoliah of Gath; and besides giving him that veteran title, he oftenaverred that he believed one of the necromancer's imps of darkness hadtaken possession of his beast.
The friar had, however, learned to distinguish all his motions, andknew from these the exact points and stages of his irritation; andwhen his offence began to reach its acme, he had no other resourcethan that of wheeling his head forcibly around, and turning his tailtoward the object of his displeasure. Without this precaution, thefriar would have been carried into the lists every day merely togratify the spleen of Goliah, who could not endure the curvetting andjangling that was going on there. And even this inverse precaution didnot at all times prove effectual, as in the following pleasantinstance.
It chanced one day that the knight of Kraeland entered the listsalone, no opponent appearing against him, owing to some mistake madein the arrangement by the officers. He was a goodly youth, butuplifted above the earth with vanity, and of his vapouring and airsthere were no end. Imagining that he attracted the eyes of all thebeholders, and elated because no one had the courage to appear againsthim, for so he affected to regard the circumstance, he paraded thecircle round and round, brandished his lance, and made his horse tocurvette, rear, and wheel, accomplishing many grand evolutions. Thelookers on were all beginning to get sick of him, and to view hisvaporous manoeuvres with disdain, but amongst them all there wasnone so much moved with spleen as Goliah of Gath. From the firstmoment that the knight entered the lists that uncircumcised Philistinebegan to manifest a mortal dislike towards him; the more so itwas believed that he was mounted on a milk-white steed, a colourpeculiarly disagreeable to the mule's optics. The judges of the gameswist not what to do, and appealed to the King, who gave it as hisopinion that this unchallenged appearance should be accounted as avictory, and that the knight should take his course in the next round;and the heralds got directions to make proclamation accordingly.
But long before this period the friar had been compelled to turn awaythe face of Goliah from this scene of vanity, and, as chance wouldhave had it, he was in the innermost circle, so that retreat outwardthrough the innumerable files was utterly impracticable, and there satthe gruff uncourtly form of the gospel friar, with the tail of hisbeast where the head should have been, to the great amusement of thespectators. For all this the malevolent eye of Goliah, as wellaccustomed to look backward as forward, perceived all the outrageousrearings and snortings of that proud and gaudy animal, and becamemoved with so much indignation that he would no longer be restrained,either by bit or spur, soothing or threatening. Just as the herald hadtaken his place to make proclamation, the mule fell a runningbackward; and the more fiercely that the friar spurred, and the morebitterly he threatened, the beast of Belial retrogaded the faster,till at last, after two or three intemperate plunges, he got his headstraight to the white charger, and then in one moment he was upon him,and had him by the brisket with his teeth. The horse reared furiously,but the mule pressed still closer to him, fixing his long teeth in thehorse's shoulder, till on a sudden, in an attempt to clear bothGoliah and his rider, or, at least, to leap over the mule's neck, thewhite steed was overturned, and thrown right on his back, above hisoverweening rider. All this was transacted in a space of time shorterthan the time taken up in reading the relation; and the moment thatGoliah of Gath had achieved this overthrow, he wheeled about with amettledness and inveteracy beyond all description, and attacked thecouple with his heels, prostrate as they were, yerk for yerk,indiscriminately. The friar sunk the rowels of his spurs to the headin his sides, and uttered some strong declamatory sentences againsthim in the style of the nations of the East; but Goliah plied hisiron-heels still the faster, although he groaned, as he kicked, in thebitterness of his spirit. The scene was perfectly irresistible,grievous as the consequences threatened to be on the one side. Thelists were all in convulsions of laughter, and involuntary shouts ofapplause shook the storeys of the firmament. The King laughed till hesunk down in his litter, and his attendants had some fears that hewould expire in a convulsive fit. The knight of Kraeland was carriedout of the lists, maimed, and in a state of insensibility; and thefriar, maugre all he could advance in opposition to the award, wasproclaimed the victor in that course, and obliged to appear in thenext encounter in opposition to the knight who had been the conquerorin the preceding combat.
Had Goliah of Gath restrained his wrath when
this conquest wasachieved, it would have been all very well, save for Kraeland and hiswhite charger; but the mongrel's wrath once aroused was not easilyabated. Therefore, when the friends of the fallen knight and hissquire forced the Philistine to forego his attack and battery, hisgleaming eyes glanced all around for another proper object whereon towreak his horrid revenge. Now it so happened, that the Queen and herMaries were all mounted on white palfreys; and as these stood in theinner circles, arching their proud necks, and champing the bits, hewas moved with choler against them, and resolved within himself togive them a surprise, and shew them the prowess of a veteran warrior;for, over and above their saucy demeanor, the glaring whiteness ofcolour that pervaded them and their riders his heart could not endure:And, besides all these, the shouts and laughter of the multitude werethought to have added greatly to his ire. The friar, who knew himwell, said so; "for" added he, "the shouts of joy and laughter areunto him as a portion of gall and of worm-wood." Certes, when he wasdriven from the prostrate champion, by dint of club and lance, hestraightway laid back his long ears, and with a swiftness hardlyimaginable, scoured the plain to the attack of the dames and theirstrutting genets. The friar soon perceived the dangerous dilemma intowhich he was about to be precipitated; and, all unable to restrainthis champion of the Philistines, he cried out with a loud voice, "Owretched man that I am! lo, I shall work destruction among thedaughters of women! Will no man come to the assistance of those whohave no strength of man at all? Wo is me! will the mighty men standand look on till the daughters of their people are cut off from theface of the earth?"
Long ere this sentence had proceeded out of the friar's mouth, thework of deray and confusion was begun. The column of white palfreyswere routed in one moment, and their gentle and affrighted riderskicked off in pairs, like so many diving swans. Never was there awarrior like Goliah of Gath! for he tore with his teeth, and struckwith both hind feet and fore feet, all at the same instant. The Queenof Scotland would in all probability have been laid low with the rest,had it not been for the prowess of her favourite hero, who sprung fromCorbie's back, and seized the audacious mule by the bridle. "Smitehim, my son!" cried the friar, with a loud voice: "Draw thou forth thysword, and smite him to the earth, for it is better for him to diethan to live."
The mule thought to prove contumacious at the first; but feelingCharlie's powerful grasp, he calmed himself, turned the one ear back,the other forward, and switched his tail, listening with muchgratification to the hysterical cries of the discomfited damsels. Notso his master, who was grieved in spirit, and very wroth with his oldservant and companion; insomuch that when he alighted from his back,and seized his curb, he exclaimed, "O thou limb of the wickedone! Thou emblem of the evil principle working in the children ofdisobedience! What shall I do unto thee? Lo, now, if I had a sword inmine hand, would I not strike thy head from off thy body, and causethee to be buried with the burial of an ass?" The mule let his earsfall down very wide asunder, like the horns of a Lancashire ox,putting on a face of great humility, as he looked out from beneath hisheavy eyebrows, with many a sly demure glance at the friar's face. Thegood man led him around the lists in search of an opening to get out,for he durst not again mount him for fear of being instrumental insome farther outrage among the ranks of the great and the noble. As hepassed by the King, his Majesty caused him to be called up into hispresence, and asked him what sum it would please him to ask as theprice of his mule?
"Verily, my lord, O King," answered the friar, with great readiness,"that beast hath been unto thy servant as a friend and an inheritance.He hath borne me over the mountains of Palestine, and hath drunk fromthe fords of Jordan, as well as from Abana and Pharpar, the rivers ofDamascus. Yea, bestriding that woful beast, hath thy servant foughtthe battles of the cross; and the hooves that have in thy sight beenlifted up against the fair and the lovely, the meek and the innocent,have been dyed red in the blood of infidels. Money is of no avail tothy servant; and he cannot part with his old and trusty companion,even though the spirit of those that are cursed from the heavens be inhim."
"Then wilt thou come thyself unto me at the Scottish court?" said theKing to him, somewhat in his own style,--"and I will cherish both theeand thy doughty companion, and thou shalt minister unto me in holythings, and shalt be unto me as a father, and I and my children willbe to thee as sons and as daughters; for my trusty and well triedfriend, Sir Ringan of Mountcomyn, saith well of thee and of thy greatwisdom, valour, and prudence."
"Verily, most noble King, I have yet many things to accomplish inother lands than this, which, by the strength of the Lord, must befulfilled; when these are finished, then shall thy servant come untothee, and visit thee for good."
"And thou shalt be a welcome guest," said the King: "Wear thou thisring for my sake, which I give thee as a pledge of friendship, and ofprotection through my kingdom. Remain in the lists, for thou hast yetbattle to do against two knights of the lance and the sword."
"Lo, I will even strike with the sword and the spear, if my lord theKing commandeth it. But I lack armour, and am not a man of war, savewhen the lives of the innocent or the cause of the cross is at stake.And, moreover, the beast that thou seest is as a beast of thebottomless pit; he hath antipathies and sympathies of his own; andinstead of bearing me full force against my opponent, he may carry meto make war against women and children. Nevertheless, I will do allthat it behooveth me to do. Who are my adversaries?"--He was told theywere the knights of Gemelscleuch and Raeburn.--"Then God do so to me,and more also, if I lift up my hand against any of these my brethren,the men of my right hand, and the preservers of my life. Neither willone of them put his spear in rest against me; so that the battle wouldperish. Thy servant is not afraid to fight, but as a gladiator he isunwilling to exhibit; therefore my lord, O King, suffer him to departin peace."
These reasons were cogent, so the King admitted them; and the worthyand heroic friar was suffered to lead off Goliah of Gath, amidthundering shouts of applause.