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Who dare opine thou hither plod'st on foot ? In the mere tything of their stock and produce,
Trim sits thy cloak, unruffled is thy band,

Outvie whatever patch of land remains
And not a speck upon thine outward man,

To this old rugged castle and its owner. Bewrays the labours of thy weary sole.

Well, therefore, may Melchisedek Gullcrammer, [Touches his shoe, and smiles complacently. Younger of Mucklewhame, for such I write me, Quaint was that jest and pleasant !

!-Now will I Master of Arts, by grace of good Saint Andrew, Approach and hail the dwellers of this fort;

Preacher, in brief expectance of a kirk, But specially sweet Flora Devorgoil,

Endow'd with ten score Scottish pounds per annum, Ere her proud sire return. He loves me not,

Being eight pounds seventeen eight in sterling coinMocketh my lineage, flouts at mine advancement Well then, I say, may this Melchisedek, Sour as the fruit the crab-tree furnishes,

Thus highly graced by fortune—and by nature And hard as is the cudgel it supplies;

E'en gifted as thou seest-aspire to woo But Flora-she's a lily on the lake,

The daughter of the beggar'd Devorgoil. And I must reach her, though I risk a ducking. Dur. Credit an old man's word, kind Master Gull(As GULLCRAMMER moves towards the draw

bridge, BaulDIE DURWARD enters, and in- You will not find it so.-Come, sir, I've known
terposes himself betwixt him and the Castle.

The hospitality of Mucklewhame;
GULLCRAMMER stops and speaks.

It reach'd not to profuseness—yet, in gratitude Whom have we here ?—that ancient fortune-teller,

For the pure water of its living well, Papist and sorcerer, and sturdy beggar,

And for the barley loaves of its fair fields, Old Bauldie Durward ! Would I were well past him !

Wherein chopp'd straw contended with the grain (Durward advances, partly in the dress of a which best should satisfy the appetite, palmer, partly in that of an old Scottish mendicant, having coarse blue cloak and

I would not see the hopeful heir of Mucklewhame badge, white beard, etc.

Thus fling himself on danger.

[old Oswald Dur. The blessing of the evening on your worship,

Gull, Danger! what danger ?-Know'st thou not, And on your taff'ty doublet. Much I marvel (pests This day attends the muster of the shire, Your wisdom chooseth such trim garb,' when tem

Where the crown-vassals meet to show their arms, Are gathering to the bursting.

And their best horse of service ?—'Twas good sport Gull. (looks to his dress, and then to the sky with (An if a man had dared but laugh at it) some apprehension). Surely, Bauldie,

To see old Oswald with his rusty morion, Thou dost belie the evening-in the west

And huge two-handed sword, that might have seen The light sinks down as lovely as this band

The field of Bannockburn or Chevy-Chase, Drops o'er this mantle–Tush, man! 'twill be fair.

Without a squire or vassal, page or groom, Dur. Ay, but the storm I bode is big with blows,

Or e'en a single pikeman at his heels, Horsewhips for hailstones, clubs for thunderbolts ;

Mix with the proudest nobles of the county, And for the wailing of the midnight wind,

And claim precedence for his tatter'd person The unpitied howling of a cudgell’d coxcomb. (goil. O'er armours double gilt and ostrich-plumage. Come, come, I know thou seek'st fair Flora Devor Dur. Ay! 'twas the jest at which fools laugh the Gull. And if I did, I do the damsel grace.

The downfall of our old nobility

[loudest, Her mother thinks so, and she has accepted

Which may forerun the ruin of a kingdom. At these poor hands gifts of some consequence,

I've seen an idiot clap bis hands, and shout And curious dainties for the evening cheer,

To see a tower like yon (points to a part of the Castle) To which I am invited-She respects me.

stoop to its base, Dur. But not so doth her father, haughty Oswald. In headlong ruin ; while the wise look'd round, Bethink thee, he's a baron-

And fearful sought a distant stance to watch Gull.

And a bare one;

What fragment of the fabric next should follow; Construe me that, old man !- The crofts of Muckle- For when the turrets fall, the walls are tottering. whame

Gull. (aster pondering). If that means aught, it means Destined for mine so soon as heaven and earth

thou saw'st old Oswald
Have shared my uncle's soul and bones between them, Expell’d from the assembly.
The crofts of Mucklewhame, old man, which nourish Dur.

Thy sharp wit
Three scores of sheep, three cows, with each her fol- Hath glanced unwittingly right nigh the truth.
A female palfrey eke—I will be candid, [lower, Expellid he was not, but his claim denied
She is of that meek tribe whom, in derision,

At some contested point of ceremony.
Our wealthy southern neighbours nicimame don- He left the weaponshaw in high displeasure,

(there. And hither comes-his wonted bitter temper Dur. She hath her follower too,—when thou art Scarce sweeten'd by the chances of the day. Gull. I say to thee, these crofts of Mucklewhame, / 'Twere much like rashness should you wait bis coming,

[NS.-" That you should walk in such trim guise." ]

And thither tends my counsel.

In age, in sorrow, in distress of mind,
And I'll take it ;

Or agony of body. I'm in health-
Good Bauidie Durward, I will take thy counsel, Can match my limbs against the stag in chase,
And will requite it with this minted farthing, Have means enough to meet my simple wants,
That bears our sovereign's head in purest copper. And am so free of soul that I cau carol
Dur. Thanks to thy bounty-Haste thee, good young To woodland and to wild in notes as lively

As are my jolly bugle's.
Oswald, besides the old two-handed sword,

Dur. Even therefore dost thou need my pity, Leo. Bears in his hand a staff of potency,

And therefore I bestow it, paying thee,

(nard, To charm intruders from bis castle purlieus.

Before thou feel'st the need, my unite of pity. Gull. I do abhor all charms, nor will abide Leonard, thou lovest; and in that little word To hear or see, far less to feel their use.

There lies enough to claim the sympathy Behold, I have departed.

Of men who wear such hoary locks as mine,

(Exit hastily. And know what misplaced love is sure to end in. + Manet DURWARD.

Leo. Good father, thou art old, and even thy youth, Dur. Thus do I play the idle part of one

As thou hast told me, spent in cloister'd cells, Who seeks to save the moth from scorching him

Fits thee but ill to judge the passions, In the bright taper's flame—And Flora's beauty'

Which are the joy and charm of social life. Must, not unlike that taper, waste away,

Press me no farther, then, nor waste those moments

Whose worth thou canst not estimate, Gilding the rugged walls that saw it kindled.

[As turning from him. This was a shard-born beetle, heavy, drossy,"

Dur. (detains him.)

Stay, young man ! Though boasting his dull drone and gilded wing. Here comes a flutterer of another stamp,

'Tis seldom that a beggar claims a debt;

Yet I bethink me of a gay young stripling, Whom the same ray is charming to his ruin.

That owes to these white locks and hoary beard Enter LEONARD, dressed as a huntsman; he pauses before Something of reverence and of gratitude

the Tower, and whistles a note or two at intervals | More than he wills to pay. drawing back, as if fearful of observation-yet waiting, Leo. Forgive me, father. Often hast thou told me, as if expecling some reply. DURWARD, whom he had That in the ruin of my father's house not observed, moves round, so as to front LEONARD un

You saved the orphan Leonard in his cradle; expectedly.

And well I know, that to thy care aloneLeo. I am too late—it was no easy task

Care seconded by means beyond thy seemingTo rid myself from yonder noisy revellers.

I owe whate'er of nurture I can boast.
Flora !-I fear she's angry-Flora-Flora !3

Dur. Then for thy life preserved,
And for the means of knowledge I have furnishid,

(Which lacking, man is levelld with the brutes,)
Admire not that I gain'd the prize

Grant me this boon :- Avoid these fated walls !
From all the village crew;

A curse is on them, bitter, deep, and heavy,
How could I fail with hand or eyes,
When heart and faith were true?

Of power to split the massiest tower they boast

From pinnacle to dungeon vault. It rose
And when in floods of rosy wine
My comrades drown'd their cares,

Upon the gay horizon of proud Devorgoil,
I thought but that thy heart was mine,

As unregarded as the fleecy cloud,
My own leapt light as theirs.

The first forerunner of the hurricane,
My brief delay then do not blame,

Scarce seen amid the welkin's shadeless blue.
Nor deem your swain untrue;

Dark grew it, and more dark, and still the fortunes
My form but linger'd at the game,

Of this doom'd family have darken’d with it.
My soul was still with you.

It hid their sovereign's favour, and obscured
She hears not!

The lustre of their service, gender'd hate Dur. But a friend hath heard—Leonard, I pity thee. Betwixt them and the mighty of the land; Leo. (starts, but recovers himself.) Pity, good fa- Till by degrees the waxing tempest rose, ther, is for those in want,

And stripp'd the goodly tree of fruit and flowers,


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[MS.----" And Flora's years of beauty." ]
[ MS.-"This was an earth-born beetle, dull, and drossy." ]
3 (From the MS., the following song appears to have been a
recent interpolation.]
4 [ The Ms. here adds :-

"Leo. But mine is not misplaced-If I sought beauty,
Resides It not with Flora Devorgoil ?
Il piety, if sweetness, il discretion,
Patience beneath Ill-suited tasks of labour,
And filial tenderness, that can beguile
Her moody sire's dark thoughts, as the sult moonsbine

Jumes the cloud of night-if I seek tbese,
Are they not all with Flora ? Number me
The list of female virtues one by one,
And I will answer all with Flora Derorgoll.

Dur. This is the wonted plich of youthsul passion;
And every woman who hath bad a lover,
However now deem'd crabbed, cross, and cankered,
And crooked both in temper and in shape,
llas in ber day been thought the porest, wisest,
Genllest, and best condition d-and o'er all
Fairest and liveliest of Eve's numerous daughters.

"Leo, Good father, thou art old," etc.)

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And buds, and boughs, and branches. There remains of hidden Providence, as thou, young man,
A rugged trunk, dismember'd and unsightly, Whose chiefest knowledge is to track a stag,
Waiting the bursting of the final bolt

Or wind a bugle, hast presumed to do.
To splinter it to shivers. Now, go pluck

Leo. Nay, I pray forgive me,
Its single tendril to enwreath thy brow,

Father; thou know'st I meant not to presume-
And rest beneath its shade-to share the ruin !

Dur. Can I refuse thee pardon?—Thou art all
Leo. This anathema,

That war and change have left to the poor Durward.
Whence should it come?-How merited ?—and when? Thy father, too, who lost his life and fortune
Dur. 'Twas in the days

Defending Lanercost, when its fair aisles
Of Oswald's grandsire, —’mid Galwegian chiefs Were spoil'd by sacrilege-1 bless'd his banner,
The fellest foe, the fiercest champion.

And yet it prosper'd not. But-all I could-
His blood-red pennons scared the Cumbrian coasts, Thee from the wreck I saved, and for thy sake
And wasted towns and manors mark’d his progress. Have still dragg’d on my life of pilgrimage
His galleys stored with treasure, and their decks And penitence upon the hated shores
Crowded with English captives, who beheld,

I else had left for ever. Come with me,
With weeping eyes, their native shores retire, And I will teach thee there is healing in
He bore him homeward; but a tempest rose

The wounds which friendship gives.
Leo. So far I've heard the tale,

And spare thee the recital,- The grim chief,
Marking his vessels labour on the sea,
And loath to lose his treasure, gave command
To plunge his captives in the raging deep.

The Scene changes to the interior of the Castle. An apartment

is discovered, in which there is much appearance of present Dur. There sunk the lineage of a noble name,

poverty, mixed wilh some relics of former grandeur. On And the wild waves boom'd over sire and son,

the wall hangs, amongst other things, a suit of ancient arMother and nursling, of the House of Aglionby,' mour; by the table is a covered basket; behind, and concealed Leaving but one frail tendril. Hence the fate

by it, the carcass of a roe-deer. There is a small latticed

window, which, a ppearing to perforale u wall of great thickThat hovers o'er these turrets,-hence the peasant,

ness, is supposed to look out towards the drawbridge. It is Belated, hying homewards, dreads to cast

in the shape of a loop-hole for muskelry; and, as is not unuA glance upon that portal, lest he see

sual in old buildings, is placed so high up in the wall, that The unshrouded spectres of the murder'd dead; :

it is only approached by five or six narrow stone steps. Or the avenging Angel, with his sword,

ELEANOR, the wife of Oswald Of DEVORGOIL, FLORA and Waving destruction; or the grisly phantom

KATLEEN, her Daughter and Niece, are discovered at Of that fell Chief, the doer of the deed,

work. The former spins, the latter are embroidering. Which still, they say, roams through his empty halls,

ELEANOR quits her own labour to examine the manner And mourns their wasteness and their lonelihood. in which Flora is executing her task, and shakes her Leo. Such is the dotage

head as if dissatisfied.
Of superstition, father, ay, and the cant

El. Fy on it, Flora; this botch'd work of thine
Of hoodwink'd prejudice.-Not for atonement Shows that thy mind is distant from thy task.
Of some foul deed done in the ancient warfare, The finest tracery of our old cathedral
When war was butchery, and men were wolves, Had not a richer, freer, bolder pattern, [dering.
Doth Heaven consign the innocent to suffering. Than Flora once could trace. Thy thoughts are wan-
I tell thee, Flora's virtues might atone

Flo. They're with my father. Broad upon the lake
For all the massacres her sires have done,

The evening sun sunk down; buge piles of clouds,
Since first the Pictish race their stained limbs 3 Crimson and sable, rose upon his disk,
Array'd in wolf's skin.

And quench'd him ere his setting, like some champion
Dur. Leonard, ere yet this beggar's scrip and cloak In his last conflict, losing all his glory.
Supplied the place of mitre and of crosier,

Sure signals those of storm. And if my father
Which in these alter'd lands must not be worn, Be on his homeward road-
I was superior of a brotherhood

El. But that he will not.
Of holy men,-the Prior of Lanercost.

Baron of Devorgoil, this day at least
Nobles then sought my footstool many a league, He banquets with the nobles, who the next
There to unload their sins-questions of conscience would scarce vouchsafe an alms to save his household
Of deepest import were not deem's too nice

From want or famine. Thanks to a kind friend,
For my decision, youth.-But not even then, For one brief space we shall not need their aid.
With mitre on my brow, and all the voice

Flo. (joyfully.) What! knew you then his gift? Which Rome gives to a father of her church, How silly I that would, yet durst not tell it! Dared I pronounce so boldly on the ways

I fear my father will condemn us both,

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That easily accepted such a present.

Proffers thee quiet, peace, and competence, Kat. Now, here's the game a bystander sees better Redemption from a home, o'er which fell Fate Than those who play it.—My good aunt is pondering Stoops like a falcon.—0, if thou couldst choose On the good cheer which Gullcrammer has sent us, (As no such choice is given) 'twixt such a mate And Flora thinks upon the forest venison. [Aside. And some proud noble!— Who, in sober judgment,

El. (to Flo.) Thy father need not know on't-'tis a Would like to navigate the heady river, Comes timely, when frugality, nay, abstinence, [boon Dashing in fury from its parent mountain, Might scarce avail us longer. I had hoped

More than the waters of the quiet lake? Ere now a visit from the youthful donor,

Kat. Now can I hold no longer-Lake, good aunt? That we might thank his bounty; and perhaps Nay, in the name of truth, say mill-pond, horse-pond: My Flora thought the same, when Sunday's kerchief

Or if there be a pond more miry, And the best kirtle were sought out, and donn'd More sluggish, mean-derived, and base than either, To grace a work-day evening.

Be such Gullcrammer's emblem-and his portion! Flo. Nay, mother, that is judging all too close!

Flo. I would that he or I were in our grave, My work-day gown was torn-my kerchief sullied ; Rather than thus his suit should goad me!-Mother, And thus-But, think you, will the gallant come? Flora of Devorgoil, though low in fortunes,

El. He will, for with these dainties came a message is still too bigh in mind to join her name From gentle Master Gullcrammer, to intimate With such a base-born as Gullcrammer. Flo. (greatly disappointed.) Gullcrammer?

El. You are trim maidens both! Kal. (aside.) There burst the bubble-down fell (To Flora.)

Have you forgotten, house of cards,

Or did you mean to call to my remembrance And cousin's like to cry for’t !

Thy father chose a wife of

peasant blood ? El. Gullcrammer? ay, Gullcrammer-thou scorn'st Flo. Will you speak thus to me, or think the stream not at him?

Can mock the fountain it derives its source from? 'Twere something short of wisdom in a maiden, My venerated mother, in that name Who, like the poor bat in the Grecian sable,

Lies all on earth a child should chiefest honour; Hovers betwixt two classes in the world,

And with that name to mix reproach or taunt,
And is disclaim’d by both the mouse and bird. Were only short of blasphemy to Heavena
I am the poor mouse,

El. Then listen, Flora, to that mother's counsel, And may go creep into what hôle I list,

Or rather profit by that mother's fate. And no one heed me-Yet I'll waste a word

Your father's fortunes were but bent, not broken, Of counsel on my betters.--Kind my aunt,

Until he listen’d to his rash affection.
And you, my gentle cousin, were't not better Means were afforded to redeem his house,
We thought of dressing this same gear for supper, Ample and large—the hand of a rich heiress
Than quarrelling about the worthless donor ? Awaited, almost courted, his acceptance;
El. Peace, minx !

He saw my beauty-such it then was callid,
Flo. Thou hast no feeling, cousin Katleen. Or such at least he thought it--the wither'd bush,
Kat. Soh! I have brought them both on my poor Whate’er it now may seem, had blossoms then,-

And he forsook the proud and wealthy heiress, So meddling peace-makers are still rewarded : To wed with me and ruin E'en let them to't again, and fight it out.

Kat. (aside.)

The more fool,
Flo. Mother, were I disclaim'd of every class, Say I, apart, the peasant maiden then,
I would not therefore so disclaim myself,

Who might have chose a mate from her own hamlet. As even a passing thought of scorn to waste

El. Friends fell off, On cloddish Gullcrammer.

And to his own resources, his own counsels, El. List to me, love, and let adversity

Abandon'd, as they said, the thoughtless prodigal, Incline thine ear to wisdom.-Look around thee Who had exchanged rank, riches, pomp, and honour, Of the gay youths who boast a noble name,

For the mean beauties of a cottage maid. Which will incline to wed a dowerless damsel ?

Flo. It was done like my father, And of the yeomanry, who think'st thou, Flora, Who scorn'd to sell what wealth can never buyWould ask to share the labours of his farm

True love and free affections. And he loves you! An high-born beggar ?-This young man is mo If you have suffer'd in a weary world, dest

Your sorrows have been jointly borne, and love Flo. Silly, good mother; sheepish, if you will it. Has made the load sit lighter.

(in't, El. E'en call it what you list-the softer temper, El. Ay, but a misplaced match bath that deep curse The fitter to endure the bitter sallies

That can embitter e'en the purest streams Of one whose wit is all too sharp for mine.

Of true affection. Thou hast seen me seek, Flo. Mother, you cannot mean it as you say;

With the strict caution early habits taught me, You cannot bid me prize conceited folly?. [ings. To match our wants and means—hast seen thy father,

El. Content thee, child—each lot has its own bless- With aristocracy's high brow of scorn, This youth, with his plain-dealing honest suit, Spurn at economy, the cottage virtue,

As best befitting her whose sires were peasants :

Kat. (aside lo Flo.) You, Flora, know full well one Nor can I, when I see my lineage scorn'd,

deer already Always conceal in what contempt I hold

Has entered at the breach; and, what is worse, The fancied claims of rank he clings to fondly. The escort is not yet march'd off, for Blackthorn

Flo. Why will you do so ?—well you know it chafes is still within the castle.

El. Flora, thy mother is but mortal woman, [him. Flo.In Heaven's name, rid himouton’t,ere my father Nor can at all times check an eager tongue.

Discovers he is here! Why went he not Kat. (aside.) That's no new tidings to her niece and Before? daughter.

Kat. Because I staid him on some little business; El. O mayst thou never know the spited feelings I had a plan to scare poor paltry Gullcrammer That gender discord in adversity

Out of his paltry wits. Betwixt the dearest friends and truest lovers!


Well, haste ye now, In the chill damping gale of poverty,

And try to get him off. If Love's lamp go not out, it gleams but palely,


I will not promise that. And twinkles in the socket.

I would not turn an honest hunter's dog, Flo. But tenderness can screen it with her veil,' So well I love the woodcraft, out of shelter Till it revive again-By gentleness, good mother, In such a night as this— far less his master : How oft I've seen you soothe my father's mood! But I'll do this, I'll try to hide him for you. Kat. (aside.) Now there speak youthful hope and Os. (whom his wife has assisted to take off his cloak fantasy!

and feathered cap.) Ay, take them off, and El. That is an easier task in youth than age;

bring my peasant's bonnet Our temper hardens, and our charms decay,

And peasant's plaid-I'll noble it no further. And both are needed in that art of soothing. Let them erase my name from honour's lists,

Kat. (aside.) And there speaks sad experience. And drag my scutcheon at their horses' heels;

El. Besides, since that our state was utter desperate, I have deserved it all, for I am poor, Darker his brow, more dangerous grow his words; And poverty hath neither right of birth, Fain would I snatch thee from the woe and wrath Nor rank, relation, claim, nor privilege, Which darken'd long my life, and soon must end it. To match a new-coin'd viscount, whose good grand(A knocking without ; ELEANOR shows alarm.

sire, It was thy father's knock, haste to the gate.

The Lord be with him, was a careful skipper, (Exeunt FLORA and KATLEEN,

And steer'd bis paltry skiff 'twixt Leith and CampWhat can have happ'd?- he thought to stay the night. Marry, sir, he could buy geneva cheap, [vereThis gear must not be seen.

And knew the coast by moonlight. [As she is about to remove the basket,

Flo. Mean you the Viscount Ellondale, my father? she sees the body of the roe-deer.

What strife has been between you? What have we here? a roe-deer !-as I fear it,

0, a trifle! This was the gift of which poor Flora thought.

Not worth a wise man's thinking twice aboulThe young and handsome hunter—but time presses.

Precedence is a toy—a superstition

About a table's end, joint stool, and trencher. (She removes the basket and the roe into a closet. As she has done Something was once thought due to long descent,

And something to Galwegia's oldest baron,-
Enter OswALD of DEVORGOIL, FLORA, and KATLEEN. But let that pass-a dream of the old time.

El. It is indeed a dream.
[ He is dressed in a scarlet cloak, which should
seem worn and old-a headpiece, and old-

Os. (turning upon her rather quickly.) Ha! said fashioned swordthe rest of his dress that of

ye! let me hear these words more plain. a peasant. His countenance and manner El. Alas! they are but echoes of your own. should express the moody and irritable haugh- Match'd with the real woes that hover o'er us, tiness of a proud man involved in calamity, What are the idle visions of precedence,

and who has been exposed to recent insult. But, as you term them, dreams, and toys, and trifles, Os. (addressing his wife.) The sun hath set-why Not worth a wise man's thinking twice upon ? is the drawbridge lower'd ?

Os. Ay, 'twas for you I framed that consolation, El. The counterpoise has fail'd, and Flora's strength, The true philosophy of clouted shoe Katleen's, and mine united, could not raise it. And linsey-woolsey kirtle. I know, that minds Os. Flora and thou! A goodly garrison

Of nobler stamp receive no dearer motive? To hold a castle, which, if fame say true,

Than what is linked with honour. Ribands, tassels, Once foild the King of Norse and all his rovers. Which are but shreds of silk and spangled tinsel-3

El. It might be so in ancient times, but now The right of place, which in itself is momentaryOs. A herd of deer might storm proud Devorgoil. A word, which is but air—may in themselves,


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of nobler stamp earth bas no dearer motive." ]
[NS.---' tiosell d spavgle." ]

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