CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH.

His talk was of another world--his bodiments

Strange, doubtful, and mysterious; those who heard him

Listen'd as to a man in feverish dreams,

Who speaks of other objects than the present,

And mutters like to him who sees a vision.

OLD PLAY.

On the same Palm Sunday when De Walton and Douglas measured together

their mighty swords, the minstrel Bertram was busied with the ancient

Book of Prophecies, which we have already mentioned as the supposed

composition of Thomas the Rhymer, but not without many anxieties as to

the fate of his lady, and the events which were passing around him. As

a minstrel he was desirous of an auditor to enter into the discoveries

which he should make in that mystic volume, as well as to assist in

passing away the time; Sir John de Walton had furnished him, in Gilbert

Greenleaf the archer, with one who was well contented to play the

listener "from morn to dewy eve," provided a flask of Gascon wine, or a

stoup of good English ale, remained on the board. It may be remembered

that De Walton, when he dismissed the minstrel from the dungeon, was

sensible that he owed him some compensation for the causeless suspicion

which had dictated his imprisonment, more particularly as he was a

valued servant, and had shown himself the faithful confidant of the

Lady Augusta de Berkely, and the person who was moreover likely to know

all the motives and circumstances of her Scottish journey. To secure

his good wishes was, therefore, politic; and De Walton had intimated to

his faithful archer that he was to lay aside all suspicion of Bertram,

but at the same time keep him in sight, and, if possible, in good

humour with the governor of the castle, and his adherents. Greenleaf

accordingly had no doubt in his own mind, that the only way to please a

minstrel was to listen with patience and commendation to the lays which

he liked best to sing, or the tales which he most loved to tell; and in

order to ensure the execution of his master's commands, he judged it

necessary to demand of the butler such store of good liquor, as could

not fail to enhance the pleasure of his society.

Having thus fortified himself with the means of bearing a long

interview with the minstrel, Gilbert Greenleaf proposed to confer upon

him the bounty of an early breakfast, which, if it pleased him, they

might wash down with a cup of sack, and, having his master's commands

to show the minstrel any thing about the castle which he might wish to

see, refresh their overwearied spirits by attending a part of the

garrison of Douglas to the service of the day, which, as we have

already seen, was of peculiar sanctity. Against such a proposal the

minstrel, a good Christian by profession, and, by his connexion with

the joyous science, a good fellow, having no objections to offer, the

two comrades, who had formerly little good-will towards each other,

commenced their morning's repast on that fated Palm Sunday, with all

manner of cordiality and good fellowship.

"Do not believe, worthy minstrel," said the archer, "that my master in

any respect disparages your worth or rank in referring you for company

or conversation to so poor a man as myself. It is true I am no officer

of this garrison; yet for an old archer, who, for these thirty years,

has lived by bow and bowstring, I do not (Our Lady make me thankful!)

hold less share in the grace of Sir John de Walton, the Earl of

Pembroke, and other approved good soldiers, than many of those giddy

young men on whom commissions are conferred, and to whom confidences

are intrusted, not on account of what they have done, but what their

ancestors have done before them. I pray you to notice among them one

youth placed at our head in De Walton's absence, and who bears the

honoured name of Aymer de Valence, being the same with that of the Earl

of Pembroke, of whom I have spoken; this knight has also a brisk young

page, whom men call Fabian Harbothel."

"Is it to these gentlemen that your censure applies?" answered the

minstrel; "I should have judged differently, having never, in the

course of my experience, seen a young man more courteous and amiable

than the young knight you named."

"I nothing dispute that it may be so," said the archer, hastening to

amend the false step which he had made; "but in order that it should be

so, it will be necessary that he conform to the usages of his uncle,

taking the advice of experienced old soldiers in the emergencies which

may present themselves; and not believing, that the knowledge which it

takes many years of observation to acquire, can be at once conferred by

the slap of the flat of a sword, and the magic words, 'Rise up, Sir

Arthur'--or however the case may be."

"Doubt not, Sir Archer," replied Bertram, "that I am fully aware of the

advantage to be derived from conversing with men of experience like

you: it benefiteth men of every persuasion, and I myself am oft reduced

to lament my want of sufficient knowledge of armorial bearings, signs,

and cognizances, and would right fain have thy assistance, where I am a

stranger alike to the names of places, of persons, and description of

banners and emblems by which great families are distinguished from each

other, so absolutely necessary to the accomplishment of my present

task."

"Pennons and banners," answered the archer, "I have seen right many,

and can assign, as is a soldier's wont, the name of the leader to the

emblem under which he musters his followers; nevertheless, worthy

minstrel, I cannot presume to understand what you call prophecies, with

or under warranted authority of old painted books, expositions of

dreams, oracles, revelations, invocations of damned spirits, judicials,

astrologicals, and other gross and palpable offences, whereby men,

pretending to have the assistance of the devil, do impose upon the

common people, in spite of the warnings of the Privy Council; not

however, that I suspect you, worthy minstrel, of busying yourself with

these attempts to explain futurity, which are dangerous attempts, and

may be truly said to be penal, and part of treason."

"There is something in what you say," replied the minstrel; "yet it

applieth not to books and manuscripts such as I have been consulting;

part, of which things therein written having already come to pass,

authorize us surely to expect the completion of the rest; nor would I

have much difficulty in showing you from this volume, that enough has

been already proved true, to entitle us to look with certainty to the

accomplishment of that which remains."

"I should be glad to hear that," answered the archer, who entertained

little more than a soldier's belief respecting prophecies and auguries,

but yet cared not bluntly to contradict the minstrel upon such

subjects, as he had been instructed by Sir John de Walton to comply

with his humour. Accordingly the minstrel began to recite verses,

which, in our time, the ablest interpreter could not make sense out of.

"When the cook crows, keep well his comb,

For the fox and the fulmart they are false both.

When the raven and the rook have rounded together,

And the kid in his cliff shall accord to the same.

Then shall they be bold, and soon to battle thereafter.

Then the birds of the raven rugs and reives,

And the leal men of Lothian, are louping on their horse;

Then shall the poor people be spoiled full near,

And the Abbeys be burnt truly that stand upon Tweed

They shall burn and slay, and great reif make:

There shall no poor man who say whose man he is:

Then shall the land be lawless, for love there is none.

Then falset shall have foot fully five years;

Then truth surely shall be tint, and none shall lippen to other;

The one cousing shall not trust the other,

Not the son the father, nor the father the son:

For to have his goods he would have him hanged."

&c. &c. &c.

The archer listened to these mystic prognostications, which were not

the less wearisome that they were, in a considerable degree,

unintelligible; at the same time subduing his Hotspur-like disposition

to tire of the recitation, yet at brief intervals comforting himself

with an application to the wine flagon, and enduring as he might what

he neither understood nor took interest in. Meanwhile the minstrel

proceeded with his explanation of the dubious and imperfect

vaticinations of which we have given a sufficient specimen.

"Could you wish," said he to Greenleaf, "a more exact description of

the miseries which have passed over Scotland in these latter days? Have

not these the raven and rook, the fox and the fulmart, explained;

either because the nature of the birds or beasts bear an individual

resemblance to those of the knights who display them on their banners,

or otherwise are bodied forth by actual blazonry on their shields, and

come openly into the field to ravage and destroy? Is not the total

disunion of the land plainly indicated by these words, that connexions

of blood shall be broken asunder, that kinsmen shall not trust each

other, and that the father and son, instead, of putting faith in their

natural connexion, shall seek each other's life, in order to enjoy his

inheritance? The _leal men_ of Lothian are distinctly mentioned as

taking arms, and there is plainly allusion to the other events of these

late Scottish troubles. The death of this last William is obscurely

intimated under the type of a hound, which was that good lord's

occasional cognizance.

'The hound that was harm'd then muzzled shall be,

Who loved him worst shall weep for his wreck;

Yet shall a whelp rise of the same race,

That rudely shall roar, and rule the whole north,

And quit the whole quarrel of old deeds done,

Though he from his hold be kept back awhile.

True Thomas told me this in a troublesome time,

In a harvest morning at Eldoun hills.'"

"This hath a meaning, Sir Archer," continued the minstrel, "and which

flies as directly to its mark as one of your own arrows, although there

may be some want of wisdom in making the direct explication. Being,

however, upon assurance with you, I do not hesitate to tell you, that

in my opinion this lion's whelp that awaits its time, means this same

celebrated Scottish prince, Robert the Bruce, who, though repeatedly

defeated, has still, while hunted with bloodhounds, and surrounded by

enemies of every sort, maintained his pretensions to the crown of

Scotland, in despite of King Edward, now reigning."

"Minstrel," answered the soldier, "you are my guest, and we have sat

down together as friends to this simple meal in good comradeship. I

must tell thee, however, though I am loath to disturb our harmony, that

thou art the first who hast adventured to speak a word before Gilbert

Greenleaf in favour of that outlawed traitor, Robert Bruce, who has by

his seditions so long disturbed the peace of this realm. Take my

advice, and be silent on this topic; for, believe me, the sword of a

true English archer will spring from its scabbard without consent of

its master, should it hear aught said to the disparagement of bonny St.

George and his ruddy cross; nor shall the authority of Thomas the

Rhymer, or any other prophet in Scotland, England, or Wales, be

considered as an apology for such unbecoming predictions."

"I were loth to give offence at any time," said the minstrel, "much

more to provoke you to anger, when I am in the very act of experiencing

your hospitality. I trust, however, you will remember that I do not

come your uninvited guest, and that if I speak to you of future events,

I do so without having the least intention to add my endeavour to bring

them to pass; for, God knows, it is many years since my sincere prayer

has been for peace and happiness to all men, and particularly honour

and happiness to the land of Bowmen, in which I was born, and which I

am bound to remember in my prayers beyond all other nations in the

world."

"It is well that you do so," said the archer; "for so you shall best

maintain your bounden duty to the fair land of your birth, which is the

richest that the sun shines upon. Something, however, I would know, if

it suits with your pleasure to tell me, and that is, whether you find

anything in these rude rhymes appearing to affect the safety of the

Castle of Douglas, where we now are?--for, mark me, Sir Minstrel, I

have observed that these mouldering parchments, when or by whomsoever

composed, have so far a certain coincidence with the truth, that when

such predictions which they contain are spread abroad in the country,

and create rumours of plots, conspiracies, and bloody wars, they are

very apt to cause the very mischances which they would be thought only

to predict."

"It were not very cautious in me," said the minstrel, "to choose a

prophecy for my theme, which had reference to any attack on this

garrison; for in such case I should, according to your ideas, lay

myself under suspicion of endeavouring to forward what no person could

more heartily regret than myself."

"Take my word for it, good friend," said the archer, "that it shall not

be thus with thee; for I neither will myself conceive ill of thee, nor

report thee to Sir John de Walton as meditating harm against him or his

garrison--nor, to speak truth, would Sir John de Walton be willing to

believe anyone who did. He thinks highly, and no doubt deservedly, of

thy good faith towards thy lady, and would conceive it unjust to

suspect the fidelity of one who has given evidence of his willingness

to meet death rather than betray the least secret of his mistress."

"In preserving her secret," said Bertram, "I only discharged the duty

of a faithful servant, leaving it to her to judge how long such a

secret ought to be preserved; for a faithful servant ought to think as

little of the issue towards himself of the commission which he bears,

as the band of flock silk concerns itself with the secret of the letter

which it secures. And, touching your question--I have no objections,

although merely to satisfy your curiosity, to unfold to you that these

old prophecies do contain some intimations of wars befalling in Douglas

Dale, between an haggard, or wild hawk, which I take to be the

cognizance of Sir John de Walton, and the three stars, or martlets,

which is the cognizance of the Douglas; and more particulars I could

tell of these onslaughts, did I know whereabouts is a place in these

woods termed Bloody Sykes, the scene also, as I comprehend, of

slaughter and death, between the followers of the three stars and those

who hold the part of the Saxon, or King of England."

"Such a place," replied Gilbert Greenleaf, "I have heard often

mentioned by that name among the natives of these parts; nevertheless

it is vain to seek to discover the precise spot, as these wily Scots

conceal from us with care every thing respecting the geography of their

country, as it is called by learned men; but we may here mention the

Bloody Sykes, Bottomless Myre, and other places, as portentous names,

to which their traditions attach some signification of war and

slaughter. If it suits your wish, however, we can, on our way to the

church, try to find this place called Bloody Sykes, which I doubt not

we shall trace out long before the traitors who meditate an attack upon

us will find a power sufficient for the attempt."

Accordingly the minstrel and archer, the latter of whom was by this

time reasonably well refreshed with wine, marched out of the castle of

Douglas, without waiting for others of the garrison, resolving to seek

the dingle bearing the ominous name of Bloody Sykes, concerning which

the archer only knew that by mere accident he had heard of a place

bearing such a name, at the hunting match made under the auspices of

Sir John de Walton, and knew that it lay in the woods somewhere near

the town of Douglas and in the vicinage of the castle.

Waverley Novels — Volume 12 · 第 70 / 89 题