This man's the devil's fellow commoner,
A verie cloake-bag of iniquitie.
His butteries and his craboun he deschargeth
Flasche, not by airt or reule. Is it meet
A Ploydenist should be a _cedant arma togae_,
Mounted on a trapt palfrey; with a dishe
Of velvatte on his heide, to keepe the brothe
Of his wit warm? The devil, my maisteris,
There is no dame in Venice shall indure itt.
_Old Play._
Whilst the knight and his lady were looking about in amazement for
their mysterious guest, the tower-warder sounded the great bugle, a
tremendous horn that lay on a shelf in the balcony where he kept watch.
"One--two--three," said the knight, counting the three distinct
notes,--a signal of which he well knew the language,--"What can that
mean? I am wanted, it would appear: another messenger from the Douglas,
I warrant."
"Sir Ringan, keep by that is your own," said the lady--"I say, mind your
own concerns, and let the Douglas mind his."
"Dame," said the chief, "I hae gotten some mair insight into that affair
than you; an' we maun talk about it by an' by. In the meantime let us
haste home, and see who is arrived."
As they descended from the hill hand in hand, (for none walked arm in
arm in those days,) they saw Richard Dodds, a landward laird, coming to
meet them. "Oh," said Sir Ringan, "this is my officious cousin, Dickie
o' Dryhope; what business can he be come upon? It will be something that
he deems of great importance."
"I hate that old fawning, flattering sycophant," said the lady; "and
cannot divine what is the cause of your partiality for him."
"It is his attachment to our house that I admire, and his perfect
devotion to my service and interests," said the knight.
"Mere sound," exclaimed the lady bitterly: "Mere waste of superfluous
breath! I tell you, Sir Ringan, that, for all your bravery, candour, and
kindness, you are a mere novice in the affairs of life, and know less
of men and of things than ever knight did."
"It is a great fault in women," said the knight, making his observation
general, "that they will aye be meddling wi' things they ken nought
about. They think they ken every thing, an' wad gar ane trow that they
can see an inch into a fir deal.--Gude help them! It is just as
unfeasible to hear a lady discussing the merits of warriors an' yeomen,
as it wad be to see me sitting nursing a wench-bairn."
"Foh, what an uncourtly term!" said the lady; "What would King Robert
think if he heard you speaking in that uncouth stile?"
"I speak muckle better than him, wi' his short clippit Highland tongue,"
said the chief: "But hush, here comes the redoubted Dickie o' Dryhope."
No sooner were the knight and his lady's eyes turned so as to meet
Dickie's, than he whipped off his bonnet with a graceful swing, and made
a low bow, his thin gray locks waving as he bowed. Dickie was a tall,
lean, toothless, old bachelor, whose whole soul and body were
devoted to the fair sex and the house of his chief. These two mighty
concerns divided his attention, and often mingled with one another;
his enthusiasm for the one, by any sudden change of subjects or
concatenation of ideas, being frequently transferred to the other.
Dickie approached with his bonnet in his hand, bowing every time the
knight and lady lifted their eyes. When they met, Sir Ringan shook him
heartily by the hand, and welcomed him to the castle of Mountcomyn.
"Oh, you are so good and so kind, Sir Ringan, bless you, bless you,
bless you, noble sir; how do you thrive, Sir Ringan? bless you, bless
you. And my excellent and noble lady Mountcomyn, how is my noble dame?"
"Thank you," said the lady coldly.
Dickie looked as if he would have shaken hands with her, or embraced
her, as the custom then was, but she made no proffer of either the one
or the other, and he was obliged to keep his distance; but this had no
effect in checking his adulations. "I am so glad that my excellent lady
is well, and the young squires and maidens all brisk and whole I hope?"
"All well, cousin," said the chief.
"Eh! all well?" reiterated Dickie, "Oh the dear, delightful, darling
souls, O bless them! If they be but as well as I wish them, and as good
as I wish--If the squires be but half so brave as their father, and the
noble young sweet dames half so beautiful as their lady mother--oh bless
them, bless them." "And half so independent and honest as their cousin,"
said the lady, with a rebuking sneer.
"Very pleasant! very pleasant, indeed!" simpered Dickie, without daring
to take his lips far asunder, lest his toothless gums should be seen.
"Such babyish flummery!" rejoined the lady with great emphasis. Dickie
was somewhat abashed. His eyes, that were kindled with a glow of filial
rapture, appeared as with flattened pupils; nevertheless the benignant
smile did not altogether desert his features. The knight gave a short
look off at one side to his lady. "It is a great fault in ladies,
cousin," said he, "that they will always be breaking their jokes on
those that they like best, and always pretending to keep at a distance
from them. My lady thinks to blind my een, as many a dame has done to
her husband afore this time; but I ken, an' some mae ken too, that if
there's ane o' a' my kin that I durstna trust my lady wi' when my back's
turned, that ane's Dickie o' Dryhope."
"H'm, h'm, h'm," neighed Dickie, laughing with his lips shut; "My lady's
so pleasant, and so kind, but--Oh--no, no--you wrong her, knight; h'm,
h'm, h'm! But, all joking and gibing aside--my lady's very pleasant. I
came express to inform you, Sir Ringan, that the Douglasses are up."
"I knew it."
"And the Maxwells--and the Gordons--and the hurkle-backed Hendersons."
"Well."
"And Sir Christopher Seton is up--and the Elliots and the Laird of
Tibbers is up."
"Well, well."
"I came expressly to inform you--"
"Came with piper's news," said the lady, "which the fiddler has told
before you."
"That _is very_ good," said Dickie; "My lady is so delightfully
pleasant--I thought Sir Ringan would be going to rise with the rest, and
came for directions as to raising my men."
"How many men can the powerful Laird of Dryhope muster in support of the
warden?" said Lady Mountcomyn.
"Mine are all at his command; my worthy lady knows that," said Dickie,
bowing: "Every one at his command."
"I think," said she, "that at the battle of Blakehope you furnished only
two, who were so famished with hunger that they could not bear arms, far
less fight."
"Very pleasant, in sooth; h'm, h'm! I declare I am delighted with my
lady's good humour."
"You may, however, keep your couple of scare-crows at home for the
present, and give them something to eat," continued she; "the warden has
other matters to mind than wasting his vassals that the Douglas may
wive."
"Very true, and excellent good sense," said Dickie.
"We'll talk of that anon," said Sir Ringan. And with that they went into
the castle, and sat down to dinner. There were twelve gentlemen and nine
maidens present, exclusive of the knight's own family, and they took
their places on each side as the lady named them. When Sir Ringan
lifted up his eyes and saw the station that Dickie occupied, he was
dissatisfied, but instantly found a remedy. "Davie's Pate," said he to
the lad that waited behind him, "mak that bowiefu' o' cauld plovers
change places wi' yon saut-faut instantly, before meat be put to mouth."
The order was no sooner given than obeyed, and the new arrangement
placed Dickie fairly above the salt.
The dining apparatus at the castle of Mountcomyn was homely, but the
fare was abundant. A dozen yeomen stood behind with long knives, and
slashed down the beef and venison into small pieces, which they placed
before the guests in wooden plates, so that there was no knife used at
the dining board. All ate heartily, but none with more industry than
Dickie, who took not even time all the while to make the complaisant
observation, that "my lady was so pleasant."
Dinner being over, the younger branches of the family retired, and all
the kinsmen not of the first rank, pretending some business that called
them away, likewise disappeared; so that none were left with the knight
and his lady save six. The lady tried the effect of several broad hints
on Dickie, but he took them all in good part, and declared that he never
saw his lady so pleasant in his life. And now a serious consultation
ensued, on the propriety of lending assistance to the Douglas. Sir
Ringan first put the question to his friends, without any observation.
The lady took up the argument, and reasoned strongly against the
measure. Dickie was in raptures with his lady's good sense, and declared
her arguments unanswerable. Most of the gentlemen seemed to acquiesce in
the same measure, on the ground that, as matters stood, they could not
rise at the Douglas' call on that occasion, without being considered as
a subordinate family, which neither the king nor the Douglas had any
right to suppose them; and so strongly and warmly ran the argument on
that side, that it was likely to be decided on, without the chief having
said a word on the subject. Simon of Gemelscleuch alone ventured to
dissent; "I have only to remark, my gallant kinsmen," said he, "that our
decision in this matter is likely to prove highly eventful. Without our
aid the force of the Douglas is incompetent to the task, and the castle
will then remain in the hands of the English, than which nothing can be
more grievously against our interest. If he be defeated, and forfeit his
lands, the power of the Border will then remain with us; but should he
succeed without our assistance, and become the king's son-in-law, it
will be a hard game with us to keep the footing that we have. I
conceive, therefore, that in withdrawing our support we risk every
thing,--in lending it, we risk nothing but blows." All the kinsmen were
silent. Dickie looked at my Lady Mountcomyn.
"It is well known that there is an old prophecy existing," said she,
"that a Scot shall sit in the Douglas' chair, and be lord of all his
domains. Well would it be for the country if that were so. But to
support the overgrown power of that house is not the way to accomplish
so desirable an object."
"That is true," said Dickie; "I'll defy any man to go beyond what my
lady says, or indeed whatever she says."
"Have we not had instances of their jealousy already?" continued she.
"We have had instances of their jealousy already," said Dickie,
interrupting her.
"And should we raise him to be the king's son-in-law, he would kick us
for our pains," rejoined she.
"Ay, he would kick us for our pains," said Dickie; "think of that."
"Either please to drop your responses, Sir," said she, sternly, "or
leave the hall. I would rather hear a raven croak on my turret in the
day of battle, than the tongue of a flatterer or sycophant."
"That is very good indeed," said Dickie; "My lady is so pleasant; h'm,
h'm, h'm! Excellent! h'm, h'm, h'm!"
Sir Ringan saw his lady drawing herself up in high indignation; and
dreading that his poor kinsman would bring on himself such a rebuke as
would banish him the hall for ever, he interposed. "Cousin," said he,
"it's a great fault in women that they canna bide interruption, an' the
mair they stand in need o't they take it the waur. But I have not told
you all yet: a very singular circumstance has happened to me this day.
Who do you think I found waylaying me at my gate, but our kinsman, the
powerful old warlock, Master Michael Scott."
"Master Michael Scott!" exclaimed the whole circle, every one holding up
his hands, "has he ventured to be seen by man once more? Then there is
something uncommon to befal, or, perhaps, the world is coming to an
end."
"God forbid!" said Redhough: "It is true that, for seven years, he has
been pent up in his enchanted tower at Aikwood, without speaking to any
one save his spirits; but though I do not know him, this must have been
he, for he has told me such things as will astonish you; and, moreover,
when he left me, he laid himself down on the top of the Little Law on
his back, and the devils carried him away bodily through the air, or
down through the earth, and I saw no more of him."
All agreed that it had been the great magician Master Michael Scott. Sir
Ringan then rehearsed the conversation that had passed between the
wizard and himself. All the circle heard this with astonishment; some
with suspense, and others with conviction, but Dickie with raptures of
delight. "He assured me," said Redhough, "that my son should ride on his
own land from Roxburgh to the Deadwater-fell."
"From Roxburgh to the Deadwater-fell!" cried Dickie, "think of that! all
the links of the bonny Teviot and Slitterick, ha, ha, lads, think of
that!" and he clapped his hands aloud without daring to turn his eyes
to the head of the table.
"And from the Deadwater-fell to the tower o' Sark," rejoined the knight.
"To the tower of Sark!" exclaimed Dickie. "H-- have a care of us! think
of that! All the dales of Liddel, and Ewes, and the fertile fields of
Cannobie! Who will be king of the Border, then, my lads? who will be
king of the Border then? ha, ha, ha!"
"And from the fords of Sark to the Deuchar-swire," added Sir Ringan.
Dickie sprang to his feet, and seizing a huge timber trencher, he waved
it round his head. The chief beckoned for silence; but Dickie's eyes
were glistening with raprures, and it was with great difficulty he
repressed his vociferations.
"And over the Nine Glens of Niddisdale beside," said Sir Ringan.
Dickie could be restrained no longer. He brayed out, "Hurrah, hurrah!"
and waved his trencher round his head.
"All the Esk, and the braid Forest, and the Nine Glens o' Niddisdale!
Hurrah! Hurrah! Mountcomyn for ever! The warden for ever! hu, hu! hu!"
The knight and his friends were obliged to smile at Dickie's outrageous
joy; but the lady rose and went out in high dudgeon. Dickie then gave
full vent to his rapture without any mitigation of voice, adding, "My
lady for ever!" to the former two; and so shouting, he danced around,
waving his immense wooden plate.
The frolic did not take, and Sir Ringan was obliged to call him to
order. "You do not consider, cousin," said the warden, "that what a
woman accounts excellent sport at one time is at another high offence.
See, now, you have driven my lady away from our consultation, on whose
advice I have a strong reliance; and I am afraid we will scarcely
prevail on her to come back."
"Oh! there's no fear of my lady and me," said Dickie; "we understand one
another. My lady is a kind, generous, noble soul, and so pleasant!
"For as pleasant and kind as she is, I am deceived if she is easily
reconciled to you. Ye dinna ken Kate Dunbar, cousin.--Boy, tell your
lady that we lack her counsel, and expect that she will lend us it for a
short space."
The boy did as he was ordered, but returned with an answer, that unless
Dickie was dismissed she did not choose to be of the party.
"I am sorry for it," said Sir Ringan; "but you may tell her that she may
then remain where she is, for I can't spare my cousin Dickie now, nor
any day these five months." And with that he began and discussed the
merits of the case _pro_ and _con_ with his kinsmen, as if nothing had
happened; and in the end it was resolved, that, with a thousand
horsemen, they would scour the east border to intercept all the supplies
that should be sent out of England, and thus enrich themselves, while,
at at the same time, they would appear to countenance the mad
undertaking of Douglas.