THE BALL
Ensign MacCombich having gone to the Highland camp upon duty, and
Bailie Macwheeble having retired to digest his dinner and Evan
Dhu's intimation of martial law in some blind change-house,
Waverley, with the Baron and the Chieftain, proceeded to Holyrood
House. The two last were in full tide of spirits, and the Baron
rallied in his way our hero upon the handsome figure which his new
dress displayed to advantage. 'If you have any design upon the
heart of a bonny Scotch lassie, I would premonish you, when you
address her, to remember and quote the words of Virgilius:--
Nunc insanus amor duri me Martis in armis,
Tela inter media atque adversos detinet hostes;
whilk verses Robertson of Struan, Chief of the Clan Donnochy
(unless the claims of Lude ought to be preferred primo loco), has
thus elegantly rendered:--
For cruel love had gartan'd low my leg,
And clad my hurdies in a philabeg.
Although, indeed, ye wear the trews, a garment whilk I approve
maist of the twa, as mair ancient and seemly.' 'Or rather,' said
Fergus, 'hear my song:--
She wadna hae a Lowland laird,
Nor be an English lady;
But she's away with Duncan Grame,
And he's row'd her in his plaidy.'
By this time they reached the palace of Holyrood, and were
announced respectively as they entered the apartments.
It is but too well known how many gentlemen of rank, education,
and fortune took a concern in the ill-fated and desperate
undertaking of 1745. The ladies, also, of Scotland very generally
espoused the cause of the gallant and handsome young Prince, who
threw himself upon the mercy of his countrymen rather like a hero
of romance than a calculating politician. It is not, therefore, to
be wondered that Edward, who had spent the greater part of his
life in the solemn seclusion of Waverley-Honour, should have been
dazzled at the liveliness and elegance of the scene now exhibited
in the long deserted halls of the Scottish palace. The
accompaniments, indeed, fell short of splendour, being such as the
confusion and hurry of the time admitted; still, however, the
general effect was striking, and, the rank of the company
considered, might well be called brilliant.
It was not long before the lover's eye discovered the object of
his attachment. Flora Mac-Ivor was in the act of returning to her
seat, near the top of the room, with Rose Bradwardine by her side.
Among much elegance and beauty, they had attracted a great degree
of the public attention, being certainly two of the handsomest
women present. The Prince took much notice of both, particularly
of Flora, with whom he danced, a preference which she probably
owed to her foreign education and command of the French and
Italian languages.
When the bustle attending the conclusion of the dance permitted,
Edward almost intuitively followed Fergus to the place where Miss
Mac-Ivor was seated. The sensation of hope with which he had
nursed his affection in absence of the beloved object seemed to
vanish in her presence, and, like one striving to recover the
particulars of a forgotten dream, he would have given the world at
that moment to have recollected the grounds on which he had
founded expectations which now seemed so delusive. He accompanied
Fergus with downcast eyes, tingling ears, and the feelings of the
criminal who, while the melancholy cart moves slowly through the
crowds that have assembled to behold his execution, receives no
clear sensation either from the noise which fills his ears or the
tumult on which he casts his wandering look. Flora seemed a
little--a very little--affected and discomposed at his approach.
'I bring you an adopted son of Ivor,' said Fergus.
'And I receive him as a second brother,' replied Flora.
There was a slight emphasis on the word, which would have escaped
every ear but one that was feverish with apprehension. It was,
however, distinctly marked, and, combined with her whole tone and
manner, plainly intimated, 'I will never think of Mr. Waverley as
a more intimate connexion.' Edward stopped, bowed, and looked at
Fergus, who bit his lip, a movement of anger which proved that he
also had put a sinister interpretation on the reception which his
sister had given his friend. 'This, then, is an end of my day-
dream!' Such was Waverley's first thought, and it was so
exquisitely painful as to banish from his cheek every drop of
blood.
'Good God!' said Rose Bradwardine, 'he is not yet recovered!'
These words, which she uttered with great emotion, were overheard
by the Chevalier himself, who stepped hastily forward, and, taking
Waverley by the hand, inquired kindly after his health, and added
that he wished to speak with him. By a strong and sudden effort;
which the circumstances rendered indispensable, Waverley recovered
himself so far as to follow the Chevalier in silence to a recess
in the apartment.
Here the Prince detained him some time, asking various questions
about the great Tory and Catholic families of England, their
connexions, their influence, and the state of their affections
towards the house of Stuart. To these queries Edward could not at
any time have given more than general answers, and it may be
supposed that, in the present state of his feelings, his responses
were indistinct even to confusion. The Chevalier smiled once or
twice at the incongruity of his replies, but continued the same
style of conversation, although he found himself obliged to occupy
the principal share of it, until he perceived that Waverley had
recovered his presence of mind. It is probable that this long
audience was partly meant to further the idea which the Prince
desired should be entertained among his followers, that Waverley
was a character of political influence. But it appeared, from his
concluding expressions, that he had a different and good-natured
motive, personal to our hero, for prolonging the conference. 'I
cannot resist the temptation,' he said, 'of boasting of my own
discretion as a lady's confidant. You see, Mr. Waverley, that I
know all, and I assure you I am deeply interested in the affair.
But, my good young friend, you must put a more severe restraint
upon your feelings. There are many here whose eyes can see as
clearly as mine, but the prudence of whose tongues may not be
equally trusted,'
So saying, he turned easily away and joined a circle of officers
at a few paces' distance, leaving Waverley to meditate upon his
parting expression, which, though not intelligible to him in its
whole purport, was sufficiently so in the caution which the last
word recommended. Making, therefore, an effort to show himself
worthy of the interest which his new master had expressed, by
instant obedience to his recommendation, he walked up to the spot
where Flora and Miss Bradwardine were still seated, and having
made his compliments to the latter, he succeeded, even beyond his
own expectation, in entering into conversation upon general
topics.
If, my dear reader, thou hast ever happened to take post-horses
at----or at----(one at least of which blanks, or more probably
both, you will be able to fill up from an inn near your own
residence), you must have observed, and doubtless with sympathetic
pain, the reluctant agony with which the poor jades at first apply
their galled necks to the collars of the harness. But when the
irresistible arguments of the post-boy have prevailed upon them to
proceed a mile or two, they will become callous to the first
sensation; and being warm in the harness, as the said post-boy may
term it, proceed as if their withers were altogether unwrung. This
simile so much corresponds with the state of Waverley's feelings
in the course of this memorable evening, that I prefer it
(especially as being, I trust, wholly original) to any more
splendid illustration with which Byshe's 'Art of Poetry' might
supply me.
Exertion, like virtue, is its own reward; and our hero had,
moreover, other stimulating motives for persevering in a display
of affected composure and indifference to Flora's obvious
unkindness. Pride, which supplies its caustic as an useful, though
severe, remedy for the wounds of affection, came rapidly to his
aid. Distinguished by the favour of a prince; destined, he had
room to hope, to play a conspicuous part in the revolution which
awaited a mighty kingdom; excelling, probably, in mental
acquirements, and equalling at least in personal accomplishments,
most of the noble and distinguished persons with whom he was now
ranked; young, wealthy, and high-born,--could he, or ought he, to
droop beneath the frown of a capricious beauty?
O nymph, unrelenting and cold as thou art,
My bosom is proud as thine own.
With the feeling expressed in these beautiful lines (which,
however, were not then written), [Footnote: They occur in Miss
Seward's fine verses, beginning--'To thy rocks, stormy Lannow,
adieu.'] Waverley determined upon convincing Flora that he was not
to be depressed by a rejection in which his vanity whispered that
perhaps she did her own prospects as much injustice as his. And,
to aid this change of feeling, there lurked the secret and
unacknowledged hope that she might learn to prize his affection
more highly, when she did not conceive it to be altogether within
her own choice to attract or repulse it. There was a mystic tone
of encouragement, also, in the Chevalier's words, though he feared
they only referred to the wishes of Fergus in favour of an union
between him and his sister. But the whole circumstances of time,
place, and incident combined at once to awaken his imagination and
to call upon him for a manly and decisive tone of conduct, leaving
to fate to dispose of the issue. Should he appear to be the only
one sad and disheartened on the eve of battle, how greedily would
the tale be commented upon by the slander which had been already
but too busy with his fame! Never, never, he internally resolved,
shall my unprovoked enemies possess such an advantage over my
reputation.
Under the influence of these mixed sensations, and cheered at
times by a smile of intelligence and approbation from the Prince
as he passed the group, Waverley exerted his powers of fancy,
animation, and eloquence, and attracted the general admiration of
the company. The conversation gradually assumed the tone best
qualified for the display of his talents and acquisitions. The
gaiety of the evening was exalted in character, rather than
checked, by the approaching dangers of the morrow. All nerves were
strung for the future, and prepared to enjoy the present. This
mood of mind is highly favourable for the exercise of the powers
of imagination, for poetry, and for that eloquence which is allied
to poetry. Waverley, as we have elsewhere observed, possessed at
times a wonderful flow of rhetoric; and on the present occasion,
he touched more than once the higher notes of feeling, and then
again ran off in a wild voluntary of fanciful mirth. He was
supported and excited by kindred spirits, who felt the same
impulse of mood and time; and even those of more cold and
calculating habits were hurried along by the torrent. Many ladies
declined the dance, which still went forward, and under various
pretences joined the party to which the 'handsome young
Englishman' seemed to have attached himself. He was presented to
several of the first rank, and his manners, which for the present
were altogether free from the bashful restraint by which, in a
moment of less excitation, they were usually clouded, gave
universal delight.
Flora Mac-Ivor appeared to be the only female present who regarded
him with a degree of coldness and reserve; yet even she could not
suppress a sort of wonder at talents which, in the course of their
acquaintance, she had never seen displayed with equal brilliancy
and impressive effect. I do not know whether she might not feel a
momentary regret at having taken so decisive a resolution upon the
addresses of a lover who seemed fitted so well to fill a high
place in the highest stations of society. Certainly she had
hitherto accounted among the incurable deficiencies of Edward's
disposition the mauvaise honte which, as she had been educated in
the first foreign circles, and was little acquainted with the
shyness of English manners, was in her opinion too nearly related
to timidity and imbecility of disposition. But if a passing wish
occurred that Waverley could have rendered himself uniformly thus
amiable and attractive, its influence was momentary; for
circumstances had arisen since they met which rendered in her eyes
the resolution she had formed respecting him final and
irrevocable.
With opposite feelings Rose Bradwardine bent her whole soul to
listen. She felt a secret triumph at the public tribute paid to
one whose merit she had learned to prize too early and too fondly.
Without a thought of jealousy, without a feeling of fear, pain, or
doubt, and undisturbed by a single selfish consideration, she
resigned herself to the pleasure of observing the general murmur
of applause. When Waverley spoke, her ear was exclusively filled
with his voice, when others answered, her eye took its turn of
observation, and seemed to watch his reply. Perhaps the delight
which she experienced in the course of that evening, though
transient, and followed by much sorrow, was in its nature the most
pure and disinterested which the human mind is capable of
enjoying.
'Baron,' said the Chevalier, 'I would not trust my mistress in the
company of your young friend. He is really, though perhaps
somewhat romantic, one of the most fascinating young men whom I
have ever seen.'
'And by my honour, sir,' replied the Baron,'the lad can sometimes
be as dowff as a sexagenary like myself. If your Royal Highness
had seen him dreaming and dozing about the banks of Tully-Veolan
like an hypochondriac person, or, as Burton's "Anatomia" hath it,
a phrenesiac or lethargic patient, you would wonder where he hath
sae suddenly acquired all this fine sprack festivity and
jocularity.'
'Truly,' said Fergus Mac-Ivor, 'I think it can only be the
inspiration of the tartans; for, though Waverley be always a young
fellow of sense and honour, I have hitherto often found him a very
absent and inattentive companion.'
'We are the more obliged to him,' said the Prince, 'for having
reserved for this evening qualities which even such intimate
friends had not discovered. But come, gentlemen, the night
advances, and the business of tomorrow must be early thought upon.
Each take charge of his fair partner, and honour a small
refreshment with your company.'
He led the way to another suite of apartments, and assumed the
seat and canopy at the head of a long range of tables with an air
of dignity, mingled with courtesy, which well became his high
birth and lofty pretensions. An hour had hardly flown away when
the musicians played the signal for parting so well known in
Scotland. [Footnote: Which is, or was wont to be, the old air of
'Good-night and joy be wi' you a'.]
'Good-night, then,' said the Chevalier, rising; 'goodnight, and
joy be with you! Good-night, fair ladies, who have so highly
honoured a proscribed and banished Prince! Good-night, my brave
friends; may the happiness we have this evening experienced be an
omen of our return to these our paternal halls, speedily and in
triumph, and of many and many future meetings of mirth and
pleasure in the palace of Holyrood!'
When the Baron of Bradwardine afterwards mentioned this adieu of
the Chevalier, he never failed to repeat, in a melancholy tone,
'Audiit, et voti Phoebus succedere partem
Mente dedit; partem volucres dispersit in auras;
which,' as he added, 'is weel rendered into English metre by my
friend Bangour:--
Ae half the prayer wi' Phoebus grace did find,
The t'other half he whistled down the wind.'