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 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE POOR FIDDLER, 
 
 A 
 
 PARODY 
 
 ON THE 
 
 lap of tfie M^t ^insttel, 
 
 WITH 
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 BY AN ADMIRER OF WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 For ne'er 
 
 Was flattery lost on poet's ear : 
 
 A simple race ! they waste their toil 
 
 For the vain tribute of a smile ! 
 
 Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto iv. 
 
 JLontfOn: 
 
 YITBLISHED BY B. AND R. CEOSBT & CO. AND SOLD BY 
 ALL BOOKSELLERS. 
 
 1R14.
 
 snt iff 
 
 J'. > 45f, .. u.:\ > ... ; , M *^/ ^
 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The night was dark, the wind did howl. 
 When Tom the Fiddler left his bowl ; 
 His nose once of a fiery hue. 
 Was now deep tinged with modest blue ; 
 Fierce o'er the heath the wind did blow. 
 And swiftly fell the drifting snow. 
 Tom was returning from the fair 
 With lightsome heart devoid of care; 
 His fiddle as I've heard it sung, 
 Across one ample shoulder hung 
 In leathern case, and by his side 
 A horn of snuff was well supplied ; 
 A huge nob-stick he firmly grasped. 
 And to his breast a loaf he clasped. 
 Poor fellow ! he had missed his road, 
 He bore besides a heavy load 
 
 9378:^.3
 
 8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Of bottled ale, whose potent spirit. 
 Had nigh eclipsed his modest merit. 
 His twinkling eyes now strive in vain 
 To find the well-known path again ; 
 He reels along from side to side. 
 And swears the cause-way is too wide. 
 Poor Tom had once seen better days 
 Than fiddling for a looby's praise : 
 At country club, or wake^ or faicy 
 He would have scoraed to scrape a hair-; 
 But now alas ! old times are gone ; 
 He roams neglected and unknown ; 
 And strangers claim that high renown 
 Which Tommj once (had thought his own; 
 No longer did he hold the band 
 Of country fiddlers t command, 
 No more amidst the swelling choir. 
 His nose was seen,, that nose of fire; 
 No longer courted or caressed, 
 He scarce was now a welcome guestf, 
 For from ItaUa's hostile land 
 . A greedy troop, a nmdy band.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Had stripped him of his well-earned praise. 
 Before he'd numbered half his days. 
 And he neglected and oppressed. 
 Was now to churls a seofF and jest. 
 Tom staggered on with quickened pace 
 The wind still blowiDg in his face. 
 And much he wished to find a spot. 
 Where he might call for something hot,. 
 And rest his head, and wash his throat,. 
 And spend his sole remaining groat 
 But long he wandered ere he found, 
 A living vestige above ground ; 
 For wild and dreary was the road. 
 Which Tom had taken for his gooid ~ 
 At last he passed a stately hall 
 Inclosed within a lofty wall ; 
 Tom gazed with a wishful eye- 
 No humbler resting place was tiigkt 
 Beside the liquor was near spent. 
 For often he had given it vent. 
 And now his stomach's growing cold 
 Twas force, not choice, that made him bold.
 
 8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 So with unsteady step, at last. 
 
 The iron gates he oped and passed, 
 
 Whose ponderous crash as close they bang 
 
 Made Tommy's bosom feel a twang. 
 
 He loudly for admittance craved. 
 
 And said the tempest he had braved 
 
 Three tedious hours and scarce could walk, 
 
 Tho' God be praised he still could talk. 
 
 The lady happened to be nigh. 
 
 She heard his voice, and language high. 
 
 She marked his wet and dirty clothes, 
 
 His pimpled cheek and reverend nose. 
 
 And bade her maid the servants tell. 
 
 That they should use the fiddler well : 
 
 For she had known adversity, 
 
 Tho' raised to such a. high degree; 
 
 And sorrow too, for in her bloom 
 
 She wept o'er her third husband's tomb. 
 
 When Tom had eased his stomach's pain. 
 And warm'd and cramm'd, and cramm'd agaia,.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Then did he think of days long past. 
 
 And much he wished this cheer would last. 
 
 He now began to laugh and sing. 
 
 And was as happy as a king ; 
 
 He knew full many a funny story, 
 
 'Bout lords and dames and love and glory. 
 
 And said that would the lady deign. 
 
 To listen to his humble strain. 
 
 If fiddling she did like to hear. 
 
 He could amuse her gracious ear. 
 
 This modest boon was soon obtained. 
 And Tom his wished for audience gained 4 
 But when he reached the parlour door. 
 He nearly tumbled on the floor ; 
 Such elegance ne'er met his eyes. 
 He seemed struck dumb with dread surprize. 
 And wished himself again i'th' nook. 
 For he could neither speak nor look. 
 But some fair damsel leered and smiled ; 
 Indeed he looked most wondrous wild :
 
 10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Oft did he cast his timid eye 
 Towards the door, he stood close by. 
 And half resolved to take his flight, 
 But then it was a stormy night. 
 The lady soon relieved his pain 
 And kindly bade him try a strain ; 
 She hoped he had been warmed and fed : 
 Tom did not speak but scratched his head. 
 His fiddle took, from leathern bag. 
 And wiped it with his pocket rag ; 
 Rosined his stick some discords made. 
 He wished to please but was afraid. 
 In vain he screws the yielding strings, 
 In vain he tunes, in vain he sings. 
 Fiddle and fiddler can't agree. 
 Sure ne'er was heard such harmony. 
 The lady smiled and praised bis song ; 
 The maids they tittered loud and long. 
 Till Tom regained his wonted glee 
 And strung his notes to harmony. 
 He then did venture from the door, 
 Some twenty pace9, (perhaps more,)
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 a^ 
 
 And scraped his foot and bowed his head, 
 
 A seat he took and thus he said : 
 
 " Fair ladies I was once a poet. 
 
 And verses made perhaps you know it ; 
 
 I wish I could again recall 
 
 Those strains I sung at Booby Hall : 
 
 They were not made for village talk. 
 
 Only to please great gentle folk ; 
 
 And if you will but list a while, 
 
 I think you'll weep more than you'll smile. 
 
 For 'tis a pitiable tale. 
 
 But I could like a jug of ale 
 
 Convenient set, and whilst you cry, 
 
 I'll moisten too I oft am dry ; 
 
 We need not then lose any time. 
 
 Tor when I'm drinking you may whine.*^ 
 
 All things were settled, Tom looked big. 
 
 And straight struck up an Irish jig. 
 
 Then changed his movement in a trice 
 
 And played " The battle of the Frogs and Mice>" 
 
 He tryed again " Aileen Aroon ;" 
 
 But still he could not hit the tune
 
 U INTEODUCTrON. 
 
 At last he caught it clear and pat. 
 
 He poised his leg, and kicked his hat, 
 
 Then hemmed and coughed and turned his chair. 
 
 And scraped the strings with tough horse-hair ; 
 
 And, whilst his fiddle loudly rung, 
 
 *Twas thus that ToM the Fiddler sung.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 IN SIX CANTOS.
 
 uu.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 I. 
 
 The supper was over at Mac-Marnock Hall, 
 And the Ladye looked out from her turret so tall; 
 The turret was high and the wind did blow. 
 Yet she was not afraid of a tumble below 
 Holy St. Timothy guard us well ! 
 'Tis said she hath dealings with goblins fell. 
 And now she doth work a horrible spell ; 
 Save her ladyship, there's not a breathing soul. 
 Dare enter that door or peep through the key-hole.
 
 16 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO I. 
 
 II. 
 
 The tables were placed against the wall ; 
 
 Cook and scullion, watch and sentry. 
 Strutted through the smoaky hall. 
 
 Or talked of sweethearts in the pantry ; 
 Two mongrel curs, with legs outstretched ; 
 
 Lay basking on the scorching hearth. 
 Dreaming of carrion, stolen or fetched 
 
 From Dan the butcher's at Clan-Tarth. 
 
 m. . 
 
 Nine-and-twenty half starved knights. 
 
 Hung their hats in Marnock Hall ; 
 Nine-and-twenty squires (strange frights,) 
 Played them at coits and tennis-ball ; 
 Nine-and-twenty footmen small 
 Waited courteous, on them all : 
 They were all men of stomachs great. 
 But little I trow did they get to eat. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Ten of them wore coats of steel. 
 With iron stockings, out at th' heel.
 
 CANTO I.] POOR FIDDLER. 17 
 
 They did not doff this cool array. 
 Neither by night, nor yet by day : u 7 
 
 They snored by the fire, ri .V 
 
 In their iron attire, Lko^^s i.li io'i ,iio,i;,/ /jilT 
 Their pillow was the hearth-stone hard: ^ ' ' 
 
 They ate at tlie meal , . ,. . , ... 
 
 With knives of steel, rri'r^et oMlolr./? yitlT 
 And they drank small-beer through the, helmet 
 barred. ilaisw^srlT 
 
 V. 
 
 Ten squires, with faces long aiid lean, 
 
 {Such phizes sure were never seen) '.-' 
 
 Waited the beck of these knights I ween; 
 
 Thirty steeds, blacky brown, and white, ;{ 
 
 Stood saddled in stable day and night ; 
 
 Their bones stood high, and their flesh lay low. 
 
 You might count every rib from the saddlebow ; 
 
 A hundred jack-asses starved in a stall. 
 
 For such was the custom at Mac-Marnock Hall.
 
 18 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO I, 
 
 ! !' . J<:,; ;.,. 
 
 Why do these steeds now stand so slim? 
 Why watch these ill-looking knights so grim I 
 They watch, for the sound of the great blood-hound 
 That will nose them a mile off by smelling at 
 
 th' ground ; 
 They watch to see great bonfires burning. 
 On every hill, at every turning ; 
 
 They watch with solemn awe and fear. 
 
 Lest a host of constables appear ! 
 
 vii. vin. 
 
 Such is the custom at Marnock Hall/ 
 
 Many an ugly knight is there; 
 But he the ugliest of them all. 
 His trap-stick hangs by his tennis-bali. 
 
 Close to his rusty spear.- ; 
 
 Fiddlers long shall knell. 
 
 His funeral bell. 
 And tell how tbick-legged Sawney felU
 
 QATliTfi I.] POOK FIDBLEB: IT tft 
 
 ,. 
 
 IX; 15 oe tott tsw %its iH 
 
 Many a bli*t>berin n6se was blown 't-.H^^d lo'i 
 
 When o'er hh grave the clows haid bdat?; 'i -.\k 
 And many a grunt and many a groan, ulnoN 
 
 Old maids and hphbliHg uiatrons leW: .j|,a^|t<j'l 
 But the Dame she did not sh^d a tear I o3 34T 
 Perhapj ?moihtx husband wab near j j> wla bnA 
 Or else it v!^ ber swelling pri4e -^^qjifh^q 948* 
 
 Forbade her weep like other folk ; J ogaa oT 
 And made her strive \^ex sorf<yw to li^j; 
 
 for she did neither ery flor taifej 1>h)J 'iioi:><f 
 Until, from Betty's great broad knee 
 
 Lisped forth her little .darling son ? 
 " If Daddv's murderer I s^e, 
 
 I'll shoot him with my ^reat pop-guaJ'j', ., ^^ 
 Then fast the tears did trickle do^n^ 
 And wet her pl^eeks^ and wet her ^owp. 
 
 X.. :i;fts,|y|i;; B fc-<'''. 
 
 With dirty face, jand: stockings .loose^Iju&bi&a t'>M 
 With wet and draggled clothes, iflj all 
 
 Wept Margery Iik a silly goosei^a {Ui^. 10 UVgm ^S 
 And oft she blew hdrnosev^^ai^loaga/.;'" " ' '
 
 20 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO I.* 
 
 Her grief was not so great I trow 
 
 For her dear father's sake ; 
 As that she did fear, her lover dear. 
 
 Would soon be made to quake : 
 For he to take her father's life. 
 
 The constables did aid; 
 And she cried to think if she was not a wife. 
 
 She perhaps might die an old maid. 
 To ease her grief she sought her bed. 
 
 Right well she knew her noble mother ; 
 Before Lord Harry she should wed, 
 
 Would see her married to her brother t 
 
 XI. 
 Of a learned race the Ladye came ; 
 Her father was a man of fame, 
 
 A clerk and almanack-maker : 
 He taught her to call the stars by name. 
 
 And as wise as himself soon did make her. 
 Men said and women too, full well 
 
 He knew if they communed together ; 
 By night or day he could foretell 
 
 Tte change of empires and foul weather. 
 
 otiT
 
 CANTO I.] POOR FIDDLER 21 
 
 XII. 
 
 The Dame now sits in her turret so tall. 
 
 Just by a black patch on the wall. 
 
 Where her father did put his greasy head. 
 
 When he studied the works of the mighty dead. 
 
 She listens to a strange noise near. 
 
 Which sounds i'faith most shocking queer. 
 
 Is it the rattle of pots and pans 1 
 
 Is it the jingle of milk cans ? 
 
 Is it the sound of Betty's great foot, wi f 
 
 Which she upon the stairs doth put I 
 
 Is it the cruel love of cats 1 
 
 Or can it be the mice or rats 
 
 Which make this strange uncertain clatter 1 
 
 I wonder what can be the matter 1 
 
 XIII. 
 The mongrel curs at this strange sound. 
 
 Their tails between their legs do thrust 
 And loud they yelp, like a startled hound. 
 
 And drop the half-chewed stolen crust. 
 In the hall, each gallant knight. 
 
 And each long-visaged squire, juub hi--
 
 VSt THB XAT OF THE [CAtfTO tk 
 
 Did quake with sore aflf i^t ; 
 And crept closer unto the fire ! 
 
 From the sotmd of the rattling pans, 
 
 Fronr the jingle of mirk-cans, 
 
 From the sound- of Betty's foot 
 
 Which sire npo* the stairs doth put. 
 
 From the cruel love of cats. 
 
 From the galloping of mrce' or rats. 
 
 The Dame she knew it wdl f ^"^^ *f 
 
 It was the Spirit of the Pig-fye poke, 
 
 And he called on the Spirit of the Dunghill. 
 
 XV. 
 
 ^{g-^tse 5p{dt. * " 
 
 l5^trov7 I 
 " Sleepest thou on thy soft bed brother ?" 
 
 Sung=|J?iU 5ptttt. 
 
 " Brother, nay 
 
 On ray soft breat the rats do play, 
 
 With vasa^tL merry rotiiid so gtty, 
 
 This night theynH Iwep holiday: 
 
 In every hole black beetles crawl. 
 
 And dung-hill flies here sport avrajr.
 
 CANTO I.]. POaR FIiyDLEH. 215 
 
 Up from thy stye where pigs do lie, uT 
 
 And mark them trip it merrily K^yaw* ad b'i bu A 
 
 i?tS-5tse Spirit ">--^l ** *>A 
 "Into my trough a maiden's tears ' " '^ 
 
 Shower fast from out yon casement small j * 
 Sweet Margery is full of feara, > '"sIT 
 
 She must go to her grave in a maiden's pall. 
 Tell me, tbou, from whose inside aJfl esv/ bauoB oVl 
 Foul things and witches charms do glide,; <)& oVf 
 The beetle black, and slimy snaii^t ai iiii&iuS. 
 The spell-bound toad without a tail. 
 When shall cease these cruel wars I i in-^i ' 
 When shall cease these feudal jars? ItTjt ni !> .' 
 What shall Margery's husband bel h lua'I '' 
 Shall she her husband ever seel" .: ..Y 
 
 i9ung=i#iU Spirit. 
 ** Foul animals are crawling in me, i sinfiQ sAT 
 I smoke like any ale-house chimney ;> 
 Methinks I am most woeful strong ; ai J.:'./ Oj.d^ 
 I shall grow worse too ere 'tis long;, j '>iij la'O
 
 24 THE LAY OF THE (CANTO 1. 
 
 This horrid stench portends no good, 1 
 
 And I'd be sweeter if I could ! i /: A 
 
 But it will spread through Marnock Hall, 
 
 And taint the actions of them all, 
 
 Till love is free and pride does fall !" ,^ ^ . ,| > 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 These comical talkers ceast. 
 
 And the breezes did mournfully sigh ; 
 
 Ko sound was heard on the dung-hill's bxeast. 
 No sound in the large Pig-Stye. !>:Bniill h .'>\ 
 But still in the Ladye's ear Ihwd mtF 
 
 It sounded very queer ; 
 
 She raised her hand, she scratched her head. 
 
 And in terrible wrath she snuffled and said, ^f 
 
 " Your dung-hills shall sweeten, -^ 
 
 Your pigs all be eaten, d id oii- ViniVd 
 
 Ere Margery sleep in Lord Henry's bed." 
 
 XIX. 
 The Dame rose up from her elbow-chair. 
 
 And ran into the hall, I 
 
 She went in such a hurry there 1 
 
 O'er the gib-cat she nearly did fall : I
 
 fcAHrtd 1.] POOR FIDDLER. <fl5 
 
 Little BiHy farer ion a broom bestrode, i ' 
 
 Ai the knights stood laughing by^ 
 And merrily round the hall he rode, A 
 
 WJiilst the maidens cryed " Ok fie.," .. u , 
 
 XX. -'> ??*, ' 
 The Dame she laughed but laughed witbii\, 
 
 For her face wore a terrible frown ; 
 She never did laugh, 'twas a deadly sin. 
 
 Nor to smile was she scstrce ever known. 
 She shouted so loud with lungs of leather, 
 They nearly fell in a heap together ; 
 She called to her from amongst them all. 
 Her favored knight Sir Billy the talL 
 
 XXI. 
 
 A long unshapely thing was he, 
 An uglicir you tte'er did see ; 
 His bony face was lank and lean, 
 A lohger phiz was never seen ; 
 It had been measured once I know 
 I'll leave you to guess if 'tis true or no,
 
 2(5 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO I. 
 
 'Twas a full half yard and aa inch to spare. 
 From the tip of his chin to the root of his hair. 
 As cunning a thief as ever did swing, 
 
 Tho' his knavery may not be shewn ; 
 For he ne'er did meddie with any thing. 
 
 Save what was not his own. 
 In prison, stocks, and pillory. 
 
 Full oft he had been seen ; 
 And he only escaped the gallows high. 
 
 By his nimble legs I ween. 
 
 XXII. , rr 
 
 " Sir Billy, Sif Billy, ray valiant knight. 
 Go hie thee hence this very night; 
 Nor spare thy legs, till thou reach yon pile. 
 There seek the Monk of St. Margery's aisle. 
 Give him a loving kiss from me ; 
 He will not take it amiss from thee. 
 Tell him the promised hour is come. 
 When he must look in the conjuror's tofnb. 
 
 wmtjl I >':??<) U' ;'}d h&d il
 
 CANTO I.] POOR FIDDLER? Hf 27: 
 
 XXIII. fJs^ilT 
 
 " What he gives thee, I know thoul't keep^ ,; j|tj7/ 
 But see thou dost not into it peep, , J;,k)?^. 
 
 For shouldest thou dare in that book to pore, 
 Thy head will ache for a month or more." 
 
 XXIV. ,|.,faw 
 
 " O swift I can speed or I had not been here, 
 And faster than deatli can I run; ; |,.,tj.;^ j^fi 
 
 Back I shall come you need not fear,.,^ Ibius adT 
 Ere the jack-daws see the sun." 
 
 XXV. XXXI. 
 
 He ran with mickle might and main, [tzanq otdH 
 The beaten path he soon did gain ; riigaodJ aVL 
 And when numerous dangers were o'er and past, ' 
 He reached a^river's brink at last^ i..;>i id^uodi'Ai 
 Whose foam did seem like a washing tub' 'isi ryll 
 Wherein the river gods did scrub . , io ImA 
 Their tawney hides, or faces lave^'"2 3U A'*uni<i A 
 With river suds brown- soap to save. ' imiir tli. fr'
 
 Jtt THE LAY OF THE [CANTO 1. 
 
 The abbey, as large as a county jail, 
 ^ith a spire as small as a barn rat's tail, 
 Stood nodding and frowning as oft we read. 
 As if 'twere alive and dreadfully bree'd.* 
 Sir Billy now smelt the abbey was near. 
 For a fume came forth from the chimney there, 
 Which borne along the fragrant breeze. 
 Did smell like bacon and toasted cheese. 
 But, when he reached the abbey gate. 
 The smell was gone and the supper all ate. 
 
 Here paused the fiddle, Tom paused too. 
 He thought some liquor was his due ; 
 For singing of the abbey's cheer. 
 Bethought him of his can of beer. 
 He raised the goblet to his lips, 
 And of its contents more than sips ; 
 A smack he gives then wipes his moutt^ 
 With what had once been a linen cloth, 
 * Brc$'d, frightened.
 
 GANTO I.] POOR FIDDLER. 38- 
 
 But now a substance quite unique, 
 
 It seemed a curious rare antique, 
 
 And might have graced a large museum, 
 
 A study, or an Athen^um : 
 
 It would defy a connoisseur. 
 
 With spectacles on nose I'm sure. 
 
 To guess from whence it sprung or came. 
 
 Whether from water., earth, or flame ! 
 
 But whilst our fiddler rests a while. 
 The tedious moments to beguile. 
 Let us on fancy's pinions soar. 
 And view this morceau dropped before 
 A naturalist's wonder-working eyes ; 
 How eagerly he grasps the prize ; 
 He views it round with careful touch. 
 What it can be he marvels much ; 
 Then scampers home elate with hope. 
 And views it with a microscope : // 
 
 In vain he pores amongst the uust, ul iln v^f?!! 
 He's forced to give it up at last ;
 
 30 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO I. 
 
 But in the next month's magazine, 
 A drawing of it there is seen. 
 With thoughts and notes, and iUustrations, 
 And hints profound with explanations. 
 At this strange news a gaping host, I 
 
 Doctors and parsons by th' next post, f 
 
 Set off to vieAv the precious prize. 
 Which for their close inspection lies. 
 After a week's deliberation. 
 As if the safety of the nation 
 Depended on this consultation, 
 They all pronounce it now to be, 
 (Genius ne'et ^vas born to see) 
 With solemn looks and language queer, 
 " A non-descript from nobody knows where.'* 
 
 i/^,.jti / 
 A model of it now is made, jd nuo 1: 
 
 'Fore a society 'tis laid. 
 Where each grave member in his face 
 Docs all his skill and learning phtcc.
 
 CANTO I.] POOR PitoDLBR. 81 
 
 The meeting's opened froJta the chair. 
 Each one with solemn voice and air. 
 Proceeds to give his thoughts profound. 
 Whether above or underground, <- '^ . 
 
 This rare production lives or grows. 
 Or whether it be the tail or nose 
 Of some strange animal unknown. 
 Or whether before the flood 'twas grown. 
 
 They argue long with equal skill. 
 They can't agree say what they will. 
 
 Till from the chair but hold awhile. 
 
 Or fancy perhaps may soar so high, 
 I can't return, then up I fly 
 And lose the tale I first began, 
 I'd best steer backwards whilst I can; 
 And leave the reader now to view 
 This learned and sagacious crew; 
 And he may fancy if he please. 
 Safe under patent locks and keys, 
 Jn some rich cabinet 'tis placed ; 
 Or with it some museum's graced.
 
 82 TEE LAY OF THE [CANTO f. 
 
 Or in a naturalist's green bag 
 Lies Tom the fiddler's pocket rag. 
 
 My red-faced hero has blown his uose. 
 Rosined his stick, and wiped his clothes. 
 His throat is moist, his pipes are clear. 
 The rest they new much long to hear. 
 Encouraged thus, the fiddling man. 
 After a hem, again began. 
 
 . ij^iJiW jkmt i -f*Vt. 
 
 ^i)v iui;i_ t (ill'
 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO SECOND.
 
 it|WlH nn . llH* r -<!. ).MJ'. 
 
 ^.i 
 
 n , jaaii Hooq aHT
 
 ..- -,iii ,i.(r,vv.,. .-F,-.' !r mdff 
 
 hAY OF tHE POOR fiddler!' 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 'J-";^ noilT 
 
 . irliK.il- ioifj ) " if Si Ti ji;jM7u biJKvv fmsjia arIT 
 iJj'*Wft };'-t/ f;n' {ia iJI -^Htmntat 0OIO1I baA 
 
 I. 
 
 If thou would'st view St. Margery riglit^utg hud^. 
 Go visit her by candle light i-^se arM i^ditn b'-^II 
 For if thou dost chance to see b^r by day, ,1) fm^T 
 Thoul't swear she's turning monstrous greyj rfoidV/ 
 When the broken windows let in no light,, ju i|;iV7 
 And all is dark as a dungeon quite; jjifii/,* A 
 
 When e'en by the light of a lamp or candle /^ 
 Thou scarce can'st find either door or handle;.,// 
 When Hodge returns with stable key, ; v.j od'fr-' 
 And whistles to drive his fear away ; / Uul oil *. T
 
 t 1 
 
 YAJ 
 
 3fl THE LAY OF THE [CANTO II. 
 
 When the owl in his great wisdom cries 
 
 Whoo-oo, then shuts his learned eyes,; 
 
 When the maiden steals towards the garden-gate 
 
 Where her lover dear in fear doth waitj 
 
 When feTery body sleeps but thou, 
 
 And the chill damp gathers on thy brow, 
 
 Then go but take no woman there (hear; 
 
 The charm would break if a voice thou should'st 
 
 And home returning thou maycst swear, 
 
 Never so stiff stood up thy hair ! ! ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Short stay I wot did Sir Billy make heej - - ^1 
 He'd rather have seen an ale-house near it*iv oV) 
 Than the beautiful pile of St. Margery/ '-'f-H# rei 
 Which he cared not if he ne'er did see. .dl 
 
 With an oaken cudgel he pummelled harder asifff 
 Against the door, for it ws barred.^'* ei MJB*/ 
 A friar eame hobbliflg unto the gate ^!li' oofv^/ 
 
 With ^outy foot an<J shining pate ''i 
 
 *'Who knocks?" cried he, as plain as he couldjiV/ 
 Fof he just was eating something good; tiw luA
 
 CANTO II.] POOR FIDDLER. Ml 
 
 And the half-chew'd morsel stuck in his throat, 
 As he wiped fats mouth with his dark grey coati' " 
 " From Marnock I come," Sir BiHy cried ; .rf bat. 
 And straight he stood by the friar's side ; fii^, ')rl8 
 For many a bet potaioe pie, i:,^j u^^.u jw nadW 
 Had the Ladye sent to St. Maf^r^. ' id "fto moil 
 
 :iUiUf bttA 
 
 -'rsr "If?" viji iii^ ki>'id3iia* sll 
 
 Sir Billy's message sooa was smdiAa *9aMBi ii| 
 The friar bent his large round head; 
 His body turned, then seieed a light. 
 And Waddled on before our kniglit: .ig>&ljiil ?Xli 
 His broad big belly a shadow cast 9%iiuii^. 
 The breadth of th' passages they pastpitiU hnA " 
 Sir Billy thus as you may find, .' on tudii^ 
 
 In utter darkness trudged behind ?:>* y-'l iimft ^M 
 Till the friar a door did open wide, . n tiQjg '*l 
 And squeezed in all &n one side, isa oy'i M<f4. 'i^- 
 The knight tben beat his lofty head, i.ioU iidli^T 
 And stood by the monk of St. Margeryf* bd. ' aL
 
 38 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO II. 
 
 " The Dame of Marnock sends thee a kiss,-, sd eA 
 And hopes thou wilt not take it amiss ; ! *' 
 
 She says the promised hour is come .i^i.;U4 ijiiA 
 When we must open the conjurer's tomb."-^f ^o'l 
 From off his bed the monk did roll, ' :* ' 
 
 And wildly stared as he sat on the floor ; 
 He scratched, then lifted his garments so foul; 
 
 His tawney skin was wondrous sore, t a'^iUH ii<r. 
 ". >ig n4 Jad ifiili sdT 
 
 His little grey eybs gloured full 6n tlte knS^hl,hflA 
 Strange sounds from out his body came; .td feiH 
 " And darest thou see adventurous wight n<l aidT 
 What no vain mortal man may name ^t yjliff ti8 
 My flesh I've scourged with thongs of leather; .if 
 I've gone without breeches for weeks together ; it' 
 My back I've scrubbed 'gainst the pantry wa|I A 
 Till the stones from oft" the top did fall j::uai^ niV- 
 And all too little to atone ...(.. i 
 
 For knowing what should ne'er ^e known !
 
 CANTO II.] POOR FIDDLEK. <Ul 
 
 Would'st have thy body almost flea'd . r(f ibji o?. 
 
 Withnettles and with adder's-tongue ; } haf' 
 Till every venomed wound does bleed 
 
 Then, come with me yon tombs among," 
 
 -fj V\fhf'iVitii]i<,'AHm>^ 'ni Aimai 'hVT 
 ! VI. " ryofi '>rit no bnA 
 "Good man, I see no fun in this;!of} "hsft /ilifl''i5 
 'Tis not the way I'll rise to bliss|] cf?f mill h'H.'i'l 
 Prayer know I never onei'? *f'itiGl!f*'V9dt v/oIb -mr/ 
 Save when I go to steal alonejt 85 8qil< 'jji^iiBTtH 
 And then I mutter out God save me, r-.otiftte aitT 
 And grant the hangsman may not have m^ ihtH^ 
 But I will always take great care, 
 I never hurt a single hair 
 
 Of my own head, 'tis quite in vaia^iofjJeai:) u iH 
 T' inflict unnecessary pain ; ^^ui^h^fiiitn- fb^T 
 In life we've ills enow to beaivni!0?>'nl*eil ilj W ' 
 Without our taking so; much care lo-^ jfojio </. 
 Ourselves to punish and tormeatii-iliiw H^i'jrfk' ai > 
 'Tis easier far to rest content' ;ii '^$<il^iliKi it* 
 No stripes or blows that can be given; 
 Will flog our lazy souls to heaven ;
 
 Mli THE LAY OF THE [CANTO 11. 
 
 So rear thy carcase on oae eodj^ritl gtwd Ja'bfauW 
 And onwards now thy footsteps bend." '-^^i^ 
 
 vn._viii. '-'^^ 
 
 The monk he grunted hard with pain, 
 
 And on the floor he might have lain, 
 
 If Billy had not in a flirt, f lo0 " 
 
 Pull'd him up by his holy skirt. 
 
 Now slow they march thro' the clusters cold ; 
 
 Strange shapes as they pass the lights unfbld^ >i^ > 
 
 The stones were carved so fair and true, hn A 
 
 Each living thing you there might view. i" ' 
 
 IX. ' '."ittw* isv^ff ) 
 By a creaking door with hob-nails riveir^o vmK) 
 
 They entered into the chancel wide ; 
 With strange conceits the roof was driven. 
 
 And each corbell was carved with uncouth pride 
 In shapes which seemed put there to try. 
 If monkish gravity tiiejr miglit defy.
 
 CANTO II.] POOR FIDDLER. 41 
 
 X.^XI. 
 
 Full many a rusty sword and spear, 
 
 Shook harmless, o'er each warrior's bier 
 
 And made Sir Billy start with fear; 
 
 He thought Jiis latter end was near. ' ^ 
 
 The moon did shine most gloriously ; 
 
 Tho' her pale beans you scarce covid se ; 
 
 You would have thought the windows tall'. 
 
 To shut out day and night were made ; i' 
 
 Or else some statute had fiorbade "> 
 
 The use of what was given to all : ^ 
 
 The only light you there coold view, 
 
 A devil's flaming nose came througti. 
 
 Which Dunstan pinched right well I mot. 
 
 With holy zeal and tongs red hot : 
 
 The moon-beam kisses Ae fiery nose, " 
 
 And a bloody stain on the paveanent throws. '' 
 
 XII. 
 
 The monfc-at down right carefully. 
 
 Sir Billy leaned agaihst a stone ; 
 Thus spake the friar so holily. 
 
 With many a heavy sigh and groan.
 
 M TPE LAY OF THE [CANTO II. 
 
 XIII. 
 " In other climes, it was ray lot 
 To meet the famous Simon Scott ; 
 A conjurer of such mighty name. 
 To distant lands had spread his fame ! 
 He could command the motley crew 
 Of imps, and devils, to his view ; 
 Could raise high winds, the steeples doff. 
 Make ladies' handkerchiefs drop off ! 
 Eat fire, make ribbands out of tow ; 
 Change eggs to apples with a blow ; 
 In short, he knew what I tell thee 
 As clear and pat as A B C ! 
 Some of this hdcus pocus art, *q aniri* 
 To me long since he did impart ; 
 I could if I would give thte the power 
 To make the farmer's milk turn sour ; 
 That terrible word I could say unto thee, 
 ^Vhich calls forth sprites from the Red-sea i 
 Makes dairy maids sweat at the churn, ^is'"'! rX- 
 Old women's cheeks and noses burn ; 
 Makes Hodge to scratch, and kick, and fight. 
 As if ten thousand fleas did bite; ^mua ttii>
 
 CANTO II.] POOR FIDDLER 43 
 
 This and more I could say unto thee 
 
 But good Sir Knight it may not be ; > ^tH'H t.-- 
 
 And I have committed a terrible sin, 
 
 In thinking of these words again ; 
 
 And this poor carcase if I live, 
 
 A double scrubbing I must give. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 *' When Simon on his death-bed fell, 
 
 He wished for peace with heaven and hell ; 
 
 He called on me, his voice I did hear. 
 
 An hundred leagues and I quaked for fear; 
 
 I rde on the back of a water sprite, <^',v t;j!|r 
 
 And by his bed side I stood ere iiigiit.i; ;> ,feRA 
 
 ** I swore his terrible book to liide, ill !fpdpi,f}.<i^_ 
 In his own grave close by his side; :.iiK4>**4'fT 
 That jio living thing might therein loofcy > tl>/';f/l 
 Save the Dame who oft his cause had toobai j>>rr 
 I buried him and his book together, ; .: t}yr'f 
 When the moon shone bright in harvest weather ;
 
 it THE LAY OF THE [CANTO H. 
 
 That the burning nose might o'er him wave. 
 And scare Old Nick from the conjurer's grave, 
 
 XVI. XVII. 
 
 " Sir Billy look ! the Devil's nose 
 
 A fiery mark on the pavement throws ; 
 
 Twas there I buried master Simon ; 
 
 Go fetch that crow, we soon must hie man : 
 
 That stone thou must lift, but have a care. 
 
 Or it will soon be too hot to bear." 
 
 XVIII. 
 Many a blow Sir Billy gave. 
 And oft he punched at old Simon's grave. 
 Before the stone would stir a jot. 
 And now it grew most wondrous hot. 
 At last with many a luch and heave. 
 He stuck his nose in the conjurer's grave I 
 I wish you had been there to smell 
 The horrid stench, he snuffed so well ; 
 You never again, your nose would thrust 
 In other folk's affairs I trust ; -
 
 CANTO II.] POOB FIDDLEB. 44 
 
 No other smell I'm sure could ere ^.K 
 
 With this vile farrago compare ! ii 
 
 Sir Billy sputtered and held his nose. 
 And quickly wrapped it in his clothes. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Before their eyes old Simon lay. 
 
 He might not have been dead a day ; 
 
 A tattered blanket wrapped him round. 
 
 With a leathern girdle it was bound ; i 
 
 In his hand he held the mighty book. 
 
 Wherein the Ladye wished to look. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The monk he prayed both loud and long ; 
 
 But fear had stopt Sir Billy's tongue ; 
 
 A thieving often he had been. 
 
 At dead of night alone I ween, ; , 
 
 And never felt remorse or awe ; 
 
 But when old Simon's corse he saw, ? 
 
 His teeth did chatter in his head. 
 
 His hair stood upright it is said ;
 
 4 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO II 
 
 And if his legs he could have found. 
 He would have scampered off that ground ; 
 But fear had bound him fast to th' spot, 
 He fancied he was going to pot ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 When fervently the monk had prayed. 
 He thus to trembling Billy said : 
 " Thou must go pull old Simon's ears. 
 Before he'll loose the book he bears ; 
 Make haste and do thy errand well. 
 Or, we perhaps may rue this spell." 
 Sir Billy now was hard put to it ; 
 Quite sure he felt he ne'er could do it ; 
 *' To hold my nose, ring Simon's ears. 
 And take the mighty book he bears. 
 Will at the least four hands require ; 
 I've but a couple like ray sire ; 
 My nose I must unguarded leave. 
 If that large book I would receive f 
 But how must I the smeU avoid, 
 I never can again abide
 
 CANTO II.] POOR FIDDLER. 47 
 
 That strange effluvia so dire m "^iT 
 
 A child that's burnt oft dreads the fire." II 
 
 But no alternative appears. 
 The smell must be endured he fears ; 
 And lifting up his hagard eyes, 
 For help and strength aloud he cries A 
 
 Then in he jumps, ^vith wild despair;; nooseiHr 
 He holds his breath he grasps one ear ^ 
 
 But lo, 'tis gone ! the stinking charm 
 Dispels and frees his nose from harm. 
 Simon's long ears, and snout he rings. 
 The book he snatches, up he springs ; 
 ' fele thought, as he leaped, again he felt 
 Th' aforesaid 'twas not the corse that smelt* 
 For Simon now was sweet again. 
 As if in the earth he ne'er had lain. 
 
 XXII. xxifi. 
 
 ** Now run straight home," the father cried. 
 And hide that mighty book by thy side, , . ,; 
 And may St. Dunstan, St. Peter, and Paul, 
 Forget what we've done thjs night in the hall !**
 
 ii THE LAY OF THE [CANtO . 
 
 The monk returned and when morning arose. 
 He scrubbed his breech for his soul's repose I 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Sir Billy breathed free when the gates were past. 
 And he reached the river's brink ft last ; 
 This soon was crossed, he scampered away. 
 And the castle saw ere break of day- 
 
 XXV. XXVI. 
 
 Why so early does Margery rise. 
 
 When late in the morning she used to lie ; 
 And her garters, to her great surprize. 
 
 Why does she now forget to tie ; 
 Why on the staircase does she stop. 
 
 And hastily look around ; 
 Why does she scratch and fondle Mop, 
 
 As he starts at the sudden sound ; 
 And, though she steals o'er the castle ground. 
 Why does not the watchman's bugle sound.
 
 CANTO II.] POOR FIDDLER. 49 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Margery stops and looks around. 
 
 Lest her mother should hear her footsteps sound ; 
 
 Mop's ears she scratches, lest his voice 
 
 Should wake the castle in a trice ; 
 
 The watchman does not blow his horn, 
 
 For in his house was Margery bom ; 
 
 And she skips thro' the wood in the morning air, 
 
 To see Lord Henry, her sweetheart there. 
 
 XXVIII. XXX. 
 
 Henry and Margery are sat. 
 
 Beneath a spreading bough ; 
 A prettier pair sure never njet, 
 So sweet to bill and coo. 
 I will not tell these soft delights ; 
 Nor sing of Cupid's sacred rights ; 
 My days of love, are long since o'er, 
 I'm verging fast towards three score.
 
 $41 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO II. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Under a spreading elder tree, 
 A dwarf lay down to sleep ; 
 An ill-favored wight as ere you could see. 
 
 For a noble lord to keep. 
 Old women said he was a sprite. 
 
 On mischief and on evil bent ; 
 Young ones were sure no eartl^^ly wight. 
 
 So lean and ugly ere was sent ; 
 Twas said when Lord Henry a hunting did go 
 
 Through brakes, woods, and briars alone ; 
 He heard a shrill voice cry, " Oh! Oh! Oh !" 
 
 And it made a most grievous moan ; 
 When all on a sudden this comical thing 
 
 Leaped out from a holly bush ; 
 Lord Henry's horse gave a terrible spring, 
 
 And threw him into a slush ; 
 He was sorely frightened you may guess. 
 
 When he saw this elvish sprite; 
 In a hurry he mounted nor slackened his pace : 
 
 Till the castle was in sight:
 
 CANTO II.] POOR FIDDLER. bi 
 
 But the dwarf outran his bonny brown steed. 
 And soon to the stable his horse did lead. 
 
 XXXII. XXXIII. 
 
 We cease to wonder it is said. 
 
 At what we oft do see ; 
 This comical dwarf with Lord Henry's stayed. 
 
 Nor offered once to flee : 
 His head was large as a wasliing tub, 
 
 His hair was long and sandy ; 
 His cheeks nearly hid his nose so snub, 
 
 And his legs were short and bandy : 
 Oft in a corner he would go 
 And yelping loud, cry, "Oh! Oh ! Oh!'' 
 He was right crafty, arch and wild. 
 He seldom laughed nor often smiled : 
 But Lord Henry liked his service well, 
 Tho' of his feats I may not tell. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And now, in the wood l>e jumps from his bed. 
 And beckons tile loveTs to flee ;
 
 Ji THE LAY OF THE [CANTO II. 
 
 A noise afar off he bears, 'tis said. 
 
 And through the dark mist he can see. 
 Margery ran thro' the hawth6rn glade. 
 
 Her stockings were down to her heels ; 
 Dares not to stop the startled maid, 
 
 Tho' the prickly thorns she feels ; 
 Lord Hal. in a hurry bestrode bis mare. 
 
 The dwarf beside him ran ; 
 He soon lost sight of the green wood so fair. 
 
 And sighed like a love-sick man. 
 
 While Tommy thus bawled out his tale. 
 His fiddle-stick began to fail ; 
 He faltering stopped, and looked around ; 
 A tankard Avith bright liquor crowned 
 
 Stood foaming at his side ; 
 He did not wish good stuff to spoil. 
 He grasped the cup, then paused awhile. 
 
 And oped his mouth full wide ; 
 The foam blown off, the juice he quaffed. 
 
 And smacked his lips right heartily ;
 
 CANTO II.] POOB FIDDLER. Aft 
 
 The Ladye turned around and laughed. 
 
 And her shoulders shook with glee. 
 A fire now lighted Tommy's eye. 
 Which glistened bright with extacy. 
 Th' enlivening draught of good October, 
 Had not conspired to make him sober ; 
 The tortured cat-gut loudly rang. 
 Whilst Tommy thus still louder sang.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO THIRD.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THEI00R FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 I. 
 
 And said I that my throat was dry ; 
 And said I that no cheer was nigh. 
 And that all giving souls were dead. 
 And that the good to heaven were fled. 
 And that I ne'er should* put my nose. 
 
 Again into a tankard's brim ; 
 And that I ne'er again should^ dose. 
 
 Before an ale-house hearth so grimi 
 How could I fancy such mishap. 
 Would e'er fall from Dame Fortune's lap, 
 On me the happiest of mankind. 
 The merriest mortal you may find ! 
 
 H 
 
 a bafi. 
 [ milo "J! A. 
 
 .'f
 
 ^ THE LAY OF THE [CANTO III. 
 
 II. 
 
 In peace, malt liquor's cheap and good ; 
 In war, 'tis poor and badly brew'd ; 
 In kitchens, now they drink small beer; 
 Malt, hops, and water, grow so dear. 
 Good liquor rules both church and state. 
 It brightens many a stupid pate ; 
 And men, and saints, to my own thinking ; 
 Are often prone unto hard drinking. 
 Heaven, we are told, through a glass is seen ; 
 A glass of grog is what they mean. 
 
 III. 
 
 So thought Lord Henry, I dare say. 
 
 As he rode through a dusty way ; 
 
 For talking fast, and looking sly. 
 
 Had made his lordsliip very dry. ^^^ j^^^^ 
 
 But the Dwarf shouted out hollo ! 
 
 And scarce his nobstick he could Tear, ^ 
 When running fast as he could go, ,, ^ , , , 
 
 A knight half-breathless did appear. 
 
 B
 
 CANTO III.] POOR FIDDLER. 60 
 
 His hat he used instead of a fan. 
 
 His face was like to a lobster boiled ; 
 
 Whilst the pearly drop from his long chin ran. 
 And his clothes with dust were nearly spoiled. 
 
 Now can you ken this half-broiled wight ? 
 
 It was Sir Billy that valiant knight. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I'll warrant he Avished he had fester ran. 
 
 When he saw Lord Henry appear ; 
 For his iron attire, he had left by the fire. 
 
 And a cudgel was all he had there. 
 The words were many loud and long 
 
 With oaths by far the greater share ; 
 No waiting man or woman's tongue. 
 
 Could have outdone the rattle there. 
 
 i\ -^'lii} 
 
 V. 
 
 At last Sir Billy dealt a knock 
 
 On Henry's sconce so noble ; 
 The rude and unexpected shock. 
 
 Had nearly bent him double*
 
 fiff THE LAY OF THE [CANTO III. 
 
 But happily for him, his bead 
 
 Received the lusty blow ; * . 
 For bad it lower been 'tis said. 
 
 It would have laid him low ! 
 
 VI. 
 Lord Henry stooped, and wisely thought, 
 
 The head was oft the hardest part ; 
 So with his stick, he slyly sought 
 
 The nearest place to Billy's heart. 
 This proved far softer, soon he lay 
 
 Sprawling and kicking on the ground ; 
 Another word he did not say, 
 
 But soon appeared in sleep profound. 
 
 VII. 
 
 When Henry saw Sir Billy lie. 
 He thought it a shocking thing to die ; 
 He called for Gilpin in a hurry. 
 To come, this good Sir Knight to lurry ;* 
 He bade him staunch the bleeding wound. 
 And bear him thence to the castle grouijid. 
 Lurry, to carry.
 
 CANTO III.] POOR FIDDliER. 61 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Away Lord Henry gallopped fast. 
 
 O'er hill and winding dale ; 
 Nor halted e'en his spittle to cast. 
 
 Till he spied his native vale. 
 The Dwarf behind his master staid, I 
 
 To do his high command ; 
 Hs always did what Lord Henry bade 
 
 For he liked not his heavy hand. 
 He felt in Sir 'Billy's pocket so light, /d 
 
 But little found he there; t .; .^. 
 
 He unbuttoned his coat and saw a sight, 
 
 A sight which made him st^re. 
 A heavy book was under it placed, "l 
 
 And he marvelled much to see 
 A knight's gay doublet thus should be graced, 
 
 A knight of such high degree : 
 He brought it forth from its hiding place. 
 
 And forgot to staunch the wound; .1 
 
 Some secret he thought was in the case. 
 
 Which he would not rest till he found.
 
 di) THE LAY OF THE [CANTO Uf. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Between the leaves his long fingers he- stuck. 
 
 But a terrible squeeze got he ; 
 He howled, and cursed the mighty book. 
 
 Whose secrets he wished to see: 
 He did not stay again to thrust 
 
 His fingers into the trap ; 
 But kicked it amongst the rolling dust, 
 
 When he got a swinging slap ; 
 He put his hand to the smarting place. 
 
 And yelp'd and ran away : 
 iP^esolved no more that book to face. 
 
 Till a more convenient day ; 
 But he chuckled and laughed at a mischievous 
 thought. 
 
 As he looked on the winking knight ; 
 Sir Billy's long fingers he vowed should be caught. 
 
 For putting him in such a fright : 
 To the book Gilpin dragged hira (he was not dead) 
 
 And thrust his fingers ih ; 
 When lo ! the volume wide did spread. 
 
 And his fingers slipped within ;
 
 OANTO III.] POOR FIDDLEB. 68 
 
 The dwarf with eager looks now named. 
 
 The contents of a spell ; . 
 
 It was by potent magic framed, ; 
 
 But the words I may not tell : 
 It Avould make a hut, seem a stately hall ; 
 
 A palace, a barn to appear ; .. . ; i 
 
 A dwarf to seem as a giant tall, * jjj|j( ,jj jgij 
 
 Or a wand to seem a spear ; .^an i^llo mtxtn^. 
 Old folk seem young and young seem old - 
 All was delusion that it told. 
 
 ill li'?- vwitll si J 
 
 ^' !>1 ;nii<ti!' 
 
 He then did turn to another spell,* . :. 
 
 But the writing appeared so small ; 
 llis head he poked nearer to read it well. 
 
 When a sudden mishap did befall ; ,,.y .,,i| ^^^ ,, . 
 The handle to his ugly face, ,.^ jtaol n ' 
 
 Now proved the worst of foes ;,^ jitjsjoiiii aiii> 
 For the book did shut in that very place, '_i{y 
 
 And caught him by theiiQse; , . ,, ,. ,,,,. :m
 
 di THE LAY OF THE [CANTO III. 
 
 In vain he pulled, tb book still hung. 
 
 Dangling from his long snout ; 
 He danced, he capered, and he sung ; 
 
 And loud for help did shout. 
 At last with good Sir Billy's aid. 
 From this disaster he was freed : 
 But he hid the book, resolved in heart. 
 Some other nose should feel the smart. 
 
 XI. 
 
 He threw Sir Billy on his back ; 
 
 Grumbling loud at the heavy load ; 
 He thought to tie him in a sack. 
 
 And toss him into the foaming flood. 
 But he Lord Henry's wrath did fear, 
 So to the castle soon did bear 
 His load, and by that magie spell. 
 Quite through the hall as I've heard teU, 
 Did pass unknown to any there. 
 
 He pinched the legs of each sleeping knight. 
 When each awoke, and loud did swear. 
 
 The fleas most horridly did bite !
 
 [canto m. 'H*O0R FIDDLER. 5 
 
 To the turret high Sir Billy he bore. 
 
 And but the Ladye was in bed," '"^ ^>'^^ "'^1^'^^ 
 
 And the door might not be opened, '^ '''^''- ^'** 
 
 He had laid him on her chamber-floor : * 
 
 He flung him quickly on the ground, ^ ' ' ^ 
 
 And his hollow head did loudly souti^- " ' '^ 
 
 As he came through the inner yard. 
 He saw little Neddy was striving hard ** 
 
 From off" the high embattled wall, '" '"^- 
 
 To reach his wandering tennis-ball; '" ''* '^''''- 
 Friend Gilpin thought to have some fufiu * " ' 
 He threw the child a wooden gun ; 
 And gingerbread, and currant cakes. 
 From out his dirty pocket takes ; '^^ /MrT 70H 
 A pedlar he seems to the urchin's sight. 
 With basket well stored, and apron so white. ^ 
 He soon enticed the child away, '* -^ " '' - '^^'^ 
 And far from home he long did stray '''' 
 
 The watch from off the ramparts high ^ 
 
 ^aw two large gib-cats passing by. 
 I
 
 |i| THE LAY OF THE [CANTO Illi 
 
 XIII. ijisitiit Mb <* 
 
 Gilpin led him a weary round, m^'-|>A 
 Tho' still he seemed near the castle ground ; 
 Till crossing o'er a murmuring brook, 4 iijiu :;. 
 The dwarf his own foul visage took, ui:A gnnft ^ 
 Could he have had his wicked will, Ins! ?.ii! in\t. 
 He would have done the child some ill : 
 But he feared the Dame's 6'erpowering blows. 
 And still he felt his smarting nose: .-[j t^e^s sA A 
 So he made a wry face at the startled child, :;a sM 
 And off he ran thro* the forest wild; llo ot1 
 Like an arrow from out the hunters bow, "'ri oT 
 He flew and shouted, "Oh! Oh! Ohi',' > ii'l 
 
 i&ili wsidt sH 
 XIV.' '^t<hs%al-^hi- 
 
 Poor Teddy was right sore afraid, b giri tuo Wcvi 
 And on the ground he crying laid ; 
 But when at length he sought his home, .*uu i'.i >'/ 
 Still farther from it he did roam. = '>''^' 
 
 Scarce durst he look aside, for fear 
 That wry face should again appear ;
 
 CANTO III.] POOR FIDDLER. 67 
 
 His little heart did heave and throb, ''" *'* * 
 
 With many a heavy sigh and sob : 
 
 At last quite spent, his face he did hide, 
 
 And laid him on the grass and cryed. 
 
 XV. xviir. 
 
 A snarling cur came barking near,' ^-'^'" ^'^^^^ ^"** 
 Behind two soldiers did appear; '"^^ ^*' ^^'^* "^ 
 Poor Ned they seized, and off they bore, ^ " /**' 
 Though he did scratch, and kick, and roar,' '"^--^ 
 He struggled long in vain I wot, 
 
 To gain his liberty t ? 
 
 "Now we a noble youth have got, '*^ figopjit^A 
 Brave comrade thou mayest see." '^* ''>' 
 
 f'>' XIX. 'i b*>i01o'i?05| .tpoX^^r 
 The child then said, 'his mammy Would come, ; A 
 
 If they did not let him go; ^ ? "^ -'//''( ?*t 
 And Betty the nurse would be thtTd^yt^'^k^emfl-' 
 
 And box them to and fro: ' -^U'^i^ "',>!/ 
 
 " And I will shoot you with ray hovr,-i'M*i}i;^}^ip' 
 
 And with my arrows bright; ' lUnj. lijiooK
 
 ^ THE LAY OF THE [CANTO III. 
 
 For they will come from Marnock I know i 
 
 Before this very night !" 
 
 XX. 
 
 *' Great thanks, for all these promises. 
 
 My pretty little boy ; 
 But thou must come with us I guess. 
 
 In spite of this annoy. 
 For if thou dost from Marnock stray, 1 
 
 Thou'lt not return this many a day." p 
 
 - i* 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Although little Neddy was gone away. 
 
 Yet still in the castle he seemed to stay. 
 
 For Gilpin acted well his part; 
 
 The feat performed by magic art; 
 
 And in the form of the absent boy. 
 
 He much the castle did annoy. 
 
 The knights he pinched black, blue, and red^ 
 
 The squires legs he did tie ; 
 Then up their noses thrust 'tis said, 
 
 Scotch snufF whilst asleep they did lie.
 
 CANTO III.] POOR FIDDLER. 69 
 
 To Betty he seemed a tiiree legged stcxJ,,, ._^^ jog 
 
 In haste she squatted dowa; jj^bni b^jloof sH 
 From under popped this mischievous tqol,;^ d-)(fM 
 
 And she almost broke her crown. 'liis-jfl 
 
 As long legged Sam, on his shfluli^rsMbqi^^,, ,, 9H 
 
 A heavy load of straw; ,,,.> .,,,,, ,{i 9,|x 
 This elf from out the castle door, ^,jj ^jg 
 
 The laden bonds-man saw: iil?**!} buA 
 
 Behind, witb a lighted match he stole^^j^ ^^^^^ j^g 
 
 Aud thrust it ia with glee;^,,/ JBjip.Kci liJiw hnA 
 The straw soon blazed, .,':>, 
 
 Sam fled amazed. 
 And the maidens laughed right heartily^ 
 But I can neither sing nor say. 
 
 The mischief that was done; h i^rt* iie^a oii 
 *T would take me till the dawn of day, 'm'iB i\ 
 
 Before I had well begun. ^^^ ^JX 
 
 Many at last in the castle guessed, jj j^nA 
 
 Young Neddy was by some fiend possessei^feif ^-^/ 
 
 XJCII XXIII. c* 
 
 If the Dame had seen him well I guess. 
 She would have stripped him of his dress ;
 
 f$ THE LAY OF THE [CANTO 111. 
 
 But she was busy with Sir Billy, 
 He looked indeed most woeful silly. *?5 ^i^d u t 
 Much she did marvel that he sat, '^ wfc* i<*' 
 Beside her chamber door so squat; '"* ^^^ 
 
 He was alive, for loud he groaned ; 
 The Dame quite sympathetic moaned ; 
 She thought perhaps in the book he had read. 
 And that his scanty wits were fled ;^ BAsM sfiiT 
 But soon the cudgel's blow she found, ' toaia^i 
 And with magical words she staunched the wound 
 She laid him on her own soft bed, '" ' 
 And with her hands he was clothed and fetl ! 
 
 XXIV. 
 So passed that day^the evening came, ^^ ** 
 It always does though not the samfei*^*^ Wuow'i 
 The shepherd had brought home his flock, ' ' 
 And it was nearly twelre o'clock ! -'^ ^uai 
 
 Yet Margery still at her window sat, ' ' 
 
 Alas ! she was uncommon flat ; 
 Sometimes she sighed, then hummed a. tune. 
 And blew her nose, and looked at th' moon ;
 
 OANTO III.] POOR FIDDLER. 71 
 
 Then idly swung in a rockiug-cbair, ^dj btmot HA 
 To sooiUe iier bosoqi's anxious .cafe^{.ih'JBu'ilcH 
 And oft she sought with vacant stare^ ^aiinqiasof*. 
 The Dragon's Tail or Northern Bear, 'i^hao'f/ 
 
 Is yon a star, that shines so bright,' u^^iflT^n^;! /, 
 That seems like a bonfire's wavering light ? ,iiT 
 Is yon red flame the western star] r-, /^liofu sdT 
 No, 'tis the blazing beam of war [y,,^, fiii mB?r oT 
 Scarce could she breathe in her tightened stays. 
 For well she knew the wa^rAie's blaze ! ^ .,/ 
 
 The watchman viewed the distant light. 
 
 He blew his trumpet ia affright. 
 
 The sound awoke each drowsy knight 
 
 The squires did rub their twinkling eyes,;()ft ^jiT 
 
 And wriggling, strove in vain to rise j ; ibnuiqqA 
 
 For you no doubt remember well .i)no\7 '^'wiT 
 
 The goblin Dwarfs mischievous spelhii iiou2 iliVfl
 
 ft THE LAY OF THE [CATS'TO 111. 
 
 All round the bustling yard were seen, 
 Half naked men, with maids I ween ;. 
 Scampering about in wild amaze. 
 Wondering at the distant blaze. 
 
 XXVIL XXXI. 
 
 At length with each others clothes arrayed. 
 
 They striv* to do as they are bade ; 
 
 The motley crew ride, run, and walk, > 
 
 To warn the stupid country folk. 
 
 And bid them come to Marnock hall, ' ' 
 
 And fight, and talk, and drink, and bawl. " ' 
 
 So passed this fearful night away. 
 
 And soon appeared the dawn of day. 
 
 I n e i^i{muni;iM w^W oil 
 i4^hku0e driT 
 The fiddler ceased -the listening throng upa ndT 
 Applauded much Tom's voice and song; ''' '' '"^ 
 They wonder he should be so poor. 
 With such rare talents, and were sufc
 
 CANTO III.] POOR FIDDLER. 73 
 
 For parish clerk, or auctioneer. 
 
 He was well fitted, and would bear 
 
 The stamp of office in his face; 
 
 Nor would it church or state disgrace. 
 
 Had he no friend no wife to share his room, 
 
 " Ay, once he had" Tom's face began to gloom, 
 
 " But she is dead" it brightened up again, 
 
 " And of her absence I am hearty fain." 
 
 Upon the strings his fingers thrummed, 
 
 A country dance unconscious hummed. 
 
 And busy memory did recall. 
 
 The daily strife, and nightly brawl. 
 
 Once he was doomed to listen to; 
 
 But now released from noisy Sue, 
 
 He roamed abroad at liberty. 
 
 Nor wished again those days to see. 
 
 After due pause, when he had baited,* 
 
 He recollected that they waited; 
 
 And thus in solemn tones began. 
 
 So soft and slow the fiddling man. 
 
 * Bait, to get refreshment.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY 
 
 OP 
 
 THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH.
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 I. II. 
 
 Sweet land of cakes ! thy sons no more 
 Bear armour on their lusty backs ; 
 
 They wander now from door to door. 
 Laden instead with travelling packs ! 
 
 Where'er you go by dale or hill, 
 
 You'll find them journeying southwards still. 
 
 III. 
 
 Now the hurly-burly spreads. 
 
 The frightened peasants leave their styes ; 
 To hide and save their precious heads. 
 
 Within the castle's ample size.
 
 78 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO IV, 
 
 Old women groan, the maidens cry. 
 And screaming, with the men they fly ; 
 Whilst some more valiant seize a spade. 
 And swear it shall on their backs be laid 
 The maidens then let fall a tear. 
 And wipe their eyes, and cry Oh, dear ! 
 
 IV, VI, 
 Now to the hall a sturdy wight. 
 With wife and bairns, in strange affright 
 Comes hurrying in, and stammers out. 
 How that a concourse of about 
 Five hundred women, men, and boys. 
 And soldiers too, had by surprize. 
 His pig-stye taken, and would soon. 
 To the castle come they said ere noon ! 
 
 VII. XII. 
 
 Then scouts with cheeks as white as flour. 
 Return and say " Within an hour 
 Eight hundred English will be here 
 Aad take us all we mveh 4o fear;
 
 CANTO IV.] POOR FIDDLER. TO 
 
 Oh that we never a stealing had gone. 
 They'll hang us every mother's son." 
 Meantime full many a vassal came, 
 T' assist and guard the noble Dame. 
 There was clattering of axes and spades. 
 
 There was running and scuttering fast ; 
 There were dung-forks, and scythes, and knife* 
 blades. 
 
 And cudgels right fierce high in air were tost. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The Dame she looked at the terrified band 
 
 Who ran for refuge to the hall ; 
 She thought to make a desperate stand. 
 
 And her captain should be Sir Billy the Tall : 
 She called for Neddy her son to attend. 
 
 That he might learn to fight ; 
 " I'm sure a helping hand he can lend ; 
 
 I saw him fire a gun last night ; 
 T was just ulicn I was going to bed. 
 
 The sliot killed a sparrow on yonder wall ; 
 The deuce is in't if an English head, ^ . . c'^ i 
 
 Is not larger than a bird so small."'
 
 80 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO IV. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Well you may guess, that Gilpin wished 
 T' escape from this great euterprize ; 
 For well he knew that he was dished. 
 
 If the Dame on him then placed her eyes. 
 He bit and scratched, and roared, and cryed. 
 And oped his mouth so mighty wide. 
 They thought his senses sure were fled. 
 And to the Dame with haste they sped. 
 She waxed wroth this news to hear. 
 And said it seemed to her most queer 
 That Neddy once so bold and brave. 
 Should prove so cowardly a slave : 
 *'Go whip him well ! and pack him oflF; 
 
 I'll never more the recreant see. 
 Hence with the monkey to Clan-TufF ; 
 
 And thou shalt take him Jemmy Magee." 
 
 XV. 
 
 A terrible job of it Jemmy had. 
 To take the roaring blubbering lad. 
 Soon as the horse heard Gilpin wail. 
 He snorted loud and wlusked his tail ;
 
 CANTO IV.] POOR FIDDLER ftj 
 
 But when the elf was fairly on, > iihiic 
 
 Dear how he kicked and backwards ruiwufjb hi\t\ 
 It cost poor Jemmy a pint of sweat.. ..if h-f.v f sH 
 
 To get him past the castle gate, ttKit^h: 
 
 And 't was with mickle pain and toil, bswaif i>H 
 
 He got him on perhaps a mile ; 9fll -nkh hnk 
 
 When as o'er a stream they go^i tnidiiimf>:> ailT 
 
 Amid the brook he changed his shape,v ^^'>dT 
 
 And ran and shouted, " Oh ! Oh ! Oh !" 
 
 Which made young Jemmy stare and gape 
 
 Full fast the urchin ran alone. 
 
 But faster still a boother stone * ^-^^ ff >f mui hid 
 
 Flew swift from Jemmy's upraised hand, iR'ja o? 
 
 And laid him yelling on the sand^iAiiit 'jlqo^q 9iT 
 
 Jemmy returned in a desperate fright, ^niiud hn/ 
 
 Right sore amaz'd at the wonderful sights >r^ nO 
 
 .^..h1 ihiV/ 
 
 XVI. XIX. ,..-.'-;! oT 
 
 Soon did he reach the spreading wood, sA 
 
 In which the stately castle stood ;"* >*<t2tn^ adif 
 
 And now he hears th' approaching foe, CI "wn"' 
 
 Marching as fast as they can go. t \9iit i'*'i sJidf 
 
 * A large pebble stone used for mending roads. 
 L
 
 $$ THE LAY OF THE [CANTO fV.t 
 
 Shrill voiees echo from around, aii*f * \ 
 
 And drums and bag-pipes loudly sound ; 
 He heard their very horses prance, 
 
 And captains give the marching word ; 
 He viewed the upraised spear and lance. 
 
 And saw the glittering of each sword r 
 The constables he now saw too, 
 They were most terrible to view ! 
 
 XX. XXI. 
 
 Now anxiously each English face, 
 
 Did turn towards their halting place ; 
 
 So near they were that they might hear - * 
 
 The people shout for ale and beer. 
 
 And bairns and women cry " Oh dear P' *"-' 
 
 On every wall stood men and boys, 
 
 With broken pots and stones and noise. 
 
 To frighten off the Englishmen, 
 
 And send them scampering back again: f"'*' 
 
 The knights and squires had each a sword, 
 
 The Dame stood by to give the word. 
 
 While yet they look, the gate un\oek$ut ^tltijiii 
 
 An aged man with snowy locks.
 
 ANTO IV.] POOR FIDDLER. ^ 
 
 Peeps first, then ope, and marches out. 
 To ask them what they are about ., ^^ 
 
 The English knights now sped away, ' 
 
 To hear what this old me^.sho^Jd^^ay^ , . , 
 
 XXII. ^f|. -Jtl^lvft&f .IC7f tl %i>'i 
 
 " Soldiers, our mighty Dame demands, . 
 
 Why ye do come into her lands, ihtmi n^ii T 
 
 With clamour and intent malicious. 
 
 She wonders you can be so vicious ; 
 
 And wishes you'll go back again, 
 
 Or else she soon will make you fain 
 
 T' escape with half your limbs and lives, tr ttrfi 
 
 And send you limping to your wives." j,^ i^httwl*! 
 
 ovi ;>l i' XXIII. ru ,ir0//-'F 
 
 Now into a passion the English lord brake, - 
 
 But the captain bowed and coolly spake : 
 " If your Dame will ascend on the castle wall, .[' 
 We quickly will tell why we now enthrall _^ 
 This stately mansion, and will shew r 
 
 When backwards we intend to go."
 
 Igi THE LAY OF THE J^CANTO IV. 
 
 The message seut, the Dame appeared/ """'" -' : *' 
 And every one his head npreared . ' 
 
 A soldier now stepped forth on high, ' t 
 
 And in bis hand he led a boy '-^ 
 
 Oh how the Dame did frown and stare; 
 For it was Neddy her son and heir. 
 An awkward bow the soldier made,--* i^iJifciOu '* 
 Then touched his cap, and thus he smd^l f.d'^' 
 
 XXTV. 'Miow 9d'' 
 
 " Lady, we do not wish to fight, ^"'^ ^' 
 
 We only want that which is right ; 
 But yet we mtist nOit se^ your knights 
 Plunder and Steial, aftd those lewd wights, 
 Your squires, our maidens rob and spoil, 
 'T would make a hennit's blood to boil; 
 It looks not well, that you receive ^f^ tHi wo/ 
 Into your keeping, me believe, ujUfs** sil* |b<': 
 Thesie Pojue9,' who well deserve a stripping. 
 And at cart-tail a good sound whipping. > ^ ^^ 
 The greatest rogue from amongst them all. ' 
 
 We now demand. Sir Billy the TaUj*?i3Q h jU .
 
 IVANTO IV.] POOR FIDDLEK. f^ 
 
 That lie may wing most loftily :,>ifi f%i srmii fttig 
 It was but last St. Barnaby, > gisdJota A 
 
 He stole Dame Filch's ducks and poultry ;3?a t>H 
 Drove all her cattle from the pen, '<>^ "^f J? A 
 
 And brought them here 'tis said, and then 
 He almost killed Dick Dobbin's brother. 
 Who caught him rifling his mother :?*'?? iRvnO '* 
 Therefore give up this thief, and we --^od lasie^^ 
 Before an hour, far hence will be>f.k ji ^yfliH irE 
 Or else this boy to London led, ; jw -Ma rlgfjoiilT 
 A chimney-sweeper shaU be bFed;5f-^i w jioyli 08 
 * .rf;T^ -n intti ra,' ^tl^sjl io<>/ 7>l<:jf3 
 
 He ceased and Neddy lo41ycriedi*qoj!wd siH 
 And stretched his little arms full wide ; d$i{ yJS. 
 He shouted hard for Betty to come . l.;ifiolffdW 
 With the birch-rod, and whip them homec 
 Then piteously again he cried, 
 When he did find his boon denied j1wilioJ sdS 
 The Dame now felt a sudden thrill iusi -nwa-A. 
 Of soft emotion check Jier will ; tttii i^iiiiff moS^ 
 She sighed alas, and looked around, il ij*i(| tuK 
 But there no pitying eye was found :
 
 %$ THE LAY OF THE [CANTO IV, 
 
 She strove to hide within her breat, 
 A mother's anguish, and addressed . 
 Her smiling foes, with dauntless air. 
 As if for them she did not care : 
 
 XXVL l^kaimu^mht 4H 
 ** Great warriors who do raise your swords, 
 'Gainst boys and women, I scorn your words ; 
 Sir Billy, it shall ne'er be said 
 Through me was to the gallows led ; 
 So if you wish your heads to save, / 
 
 Employ your heels, or find a grave 
 But if you choose. Sir Billy wiil 
 His honor prove, as well as skill, > '^^ 
 
 By fighting singly Dicky's brother, * ;te Im A 
 
 "Who lonjis I know to make a bother," ' "' 
 
 XXVII. ^'r-rooj^ fi-v; ' 
 ^le looked around, with fear and pride-MiU/frKiri' 
 A noisy hum spread far and wide; ^(i*^' 
 
 Some wished the Dame's advice to take, > !<KlrftM) 
 Nor place their carcases at stakes *><?- '*;-^f''
 
 CANTO IV.] POOR FIDDLER. 89 
 
 While some with valour piping hot, >ii diin liak 
 Would fight it out with musket-shot*! in jorii iiodW 
 At last when words had got to blow8i'Oi>i ortw oli 
 And each bad shewn his bloody nose^ti ntf h'uoilE 
 A man half-breathless came in sight, 4 'il 
 
 Running post haste with sore affright^ slilii cadT 
 
 XXVIII45 't;>ri "icft jaRKifcOiJ iiA 
 ** Ah ! comrades true! what seekye fiere'^'ti iu^, 
 Make haste, or else Fm much in fear -, . jdih adX 
 You'll find a job, for in your rear >(! /od i>dT 
 A ragged roaring crew are near; vMiioau iaoiiJiW 
 Women and men, with sticks and stones, yAi haA 
 Dung-forks, and shovels, and jaw-bones ^ tol toi^ 
 Do swear they'll make you rue the day, 
 That you came tramping on this way," 
 
 ^ XXIX. XXXII.eii/f r uoo bffA 
 This put a stop to all the broil, iircia ifUill nuAV 
 And they were glad to rest a while, ?W>*'I bah 
 And send word to the Dame right somj. 
 They would accept her proffered boon ;
 
 88 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO"^|^ 
 
 And with stout cudgels they should fight, lirt// 
 When morning ushered in the light. , - ^-joW 
 He who received th' first broken head, ?r tI lA 
 Should be pronounced vanquished ; flSi iIwe* feiA 
 If Billy first received the blow, ^^IbA tmnt P' 
 
 Then little Ned away should go ?gd JM>q ^mftnvi^ 
 (Her Ladyship's high presence saving,) 
 An hostage for her good behaving ; 
 But if Sir Billy's cudgel gave 
 The first rude knock, with lifted stave, -i itjUt^ 
 The boy should be again restored, i iwft U'rirt? 
 Without another angry word ; wiif**^! 
 And they would march from Marnock strait, 
 Nor for another parley wait. 
 
 XXXUI. 
 
 These terms did please each valiant knight. 
 And soon 't was settled for the fight. 
 When Billy should his gudgel wave, 4*4<| ili 
 And Neddy either lose or save.^ia; ^^^-s* ^pM *A
 
 CANTO IV.] PQOR FIDDLER. #8^ 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 I know that many poets say. 
 
 And these do mock my humble lay. 
 
 Such fights with pistols should be made ; 
 But I do scorn a murderer's song, ,\'\ 
 
 And hope to see the time ere long. 
 
 When in a gaol they shall be laid. 
 Who dare encourage such proceeding. 
 And call it honor and good breeding ; 
 When murder and such horrid work. 
 Ne'er under honor's mask shall lurk ! 
 
 He paused : and every voice again 
 Approved Tom's laughter moving strain, 
 And sideway leering they did wonder, 
 How he without a stop or blunder, 
 Could sing so well of deeds long past. 
 And hoped his song would longer last
 
 <K> THE LAY, etc. [canto iHlf; 
 
 The fiddler smiled, well pleased no doubt; 
 That they his merits had found out ; , 
 They were the first he soundly swore, 
 No one had ever thought before 
 They were worth listening to, and oft 
 The country lowns at them had laughed : 
 Torn drank, then smiled, liis fid<lle raised. 
 Well pleased to hear his song thus praised. 
 
 :.Jsii*d "Mth 
 
 jjvhin-ilisfeit^^^' 
 
 H!3 
 
 Um^'%tm %Mt''
 
 
 THE ' 
 
 I. A Y 
 
 OF 
 
 THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO FIFTH.
 
 Mj\A(1 
 
 i i n yy i fi,',_!.!im"
 
 THE 
 
 LAY OF THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 I. It. 
 
 Call it not false : -they do not lie. 
 
 Who say, a poet's worth's not founds 
 Till he for ever hence shall fly. 
 
 And lay his body in the ground. 
 Who say, the world will never prize. 
 
 The good that's easily obtained: --it^ - 
 Till far beyond their reach it lies. 
 
 Its value then is ascertained. - - 
 
 Thus man his choicest blessings slight, '^'*^'' * 
 
 And scorns what's ea^ly received; *^'^*n or. 
 But if some blast the blossom blights, ''^^"^ ^^' 
 
 Its worth too late is then perceived., '^* V^'^
 
 94 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO V. 
 
 III. IV. 
 
 Scarce were the terms of truce agreed. 
 When they descried, marching with speed 
 And gesture strange, with horrid noise. 
 A crew of women, men, and boys ; 
 Near they approached, and hallooing loud. 
 They spurned the ground, and raised a cloud 
 Of rolling dust, which as they tossed. 
 Sometimes they were half seen, half lost. 
 Sometimes the screen would roll away. 
 And every motley form display ; 
 Then swift again the whirling cloudsi. 
 Would meet and hide the approaching crowds. 
 
 Now knights and squires were sore displeased 
 
 They had not stayed, or they'd have squeezed .- 
 
 The Englishmen, but 'twas too late, 
 
 Th' approaching morrow they must wait 
 
 So messages. were quickly sent. 
 
 To shew how naiuch for their intent 'flT' 
 
 They were right pleased, yet vexed they said, '^'^ 
 
 They could not take their proffered aid ; ' '
 
 t'ANTO v.] POOR FIDDLER. OS 
 
 But hoped they 'd taste the castle cheer. 
 And swig with them a can of beer. 
 And slay and view the coming fight. 
 And they might sleep i'th' barn all night* 
 
 VI. VIII. 
 
 Each hero, and each heroine, '}" "^ 
 
 Agreed to take the proffered cheer*; '^'lor^h'^ 
 And nought was heard save mirthful din, 
 Loudly re-echoing from withita. 
 
 And each his neighbour scarce could he^p. " 
 For thus was spent that fearful day, ' 
 
 In revelry and joy ; 
 Which threatened once a sad affray^ 
 
 And many a streaming eye I ^^ 
 
 And now the fair ones sunk to' slfeep:'' ^^"^ ^ '^* * 
 
 - ' IT 
 The men soon after them did crecfl; ""* '' "''* ' 
 
 The barn was filled, all were content, '^*' *'^" 
 
 And to the earth each beid was bcntr w 
 
 No sound was liciard/.Bavd tle load snore *^>^^"* 
 
 Winch seemed to shake the very flobt^, "*^ ' ' '
 
 ff^ THE LAY OF THE [C^NTQ V, 
 
 And loud proclaimed that balmy sleep, ^j 
 
 Its influence over them did keep. 
 
 -"ft 
 
 Margery scarce her eyes had closed. 
 
 Before the morning light ; 
 All night she neither slept or dosed. 
 
 For love had put sweet sleep to flight ; 
 And thinking of her love and woes. 
 
 She tumbling and tossing lay ; 
 But soon arose and donned her clothes, 
 
 Before the dawn of day. 
 
 XI. 
 
 She looked into the castle yard, 
 
 Which under her window lay ; 
 Where swearing loud and drinking hard. 
 
 The men sat yesterday ; 
 T was gloomy now, and quite deserted, 
 But hark ! she hears waste spittle squirted, 
 Who can it be that walks so soon 
 Beneath her window iu the gloom ; /
 
 CANTO v.] POOR FIDDLER. '^ 
 
 A man appears his head he raises, 
 
 Margery starts, with fears she gazes ; 
 
 She dares not speak but can it be '>^* pm^K 1 
 
 Her own dear Lord, yes it is he ! 
 
 Oh how she feared lest he should wake ' ' ' 
 
 Her mother's slumbers, or should break ' '^^^ 
 
 His legs, or neck, in getting in ' 
 
 To let him come would be no sin ! 
 
 Soon he sprung through the chamber doori-"| ^"^' 
 
 And kissed her sweet face o'er and o'er. ' '^' ^'''' 
 
 xn. xni. 
 
 You now will marvel much I know. 
 That he could thus so safely go 
 
 Into the castle yard ; ' 
 
 Where watchmen pace the turrets high, '/ 
 
 And knights in armour bright do lie, '" ^ 
 
 And gates and doors are barred. 
 But if you possess a decent head, 
 You'll remember the charm which Gilpin read| 
 
 X
 
 ^ THE LAY OF THE [CANTO V. 
 
 Tliis to Lord Henry he told. 
 And he did seem a milk-maid stout^ ' 
 Pacing the Castle yard about. 
 
 With haughty step and bold. 
 But love saw through this quaint disguise,.. ;. - 
 For love is often mighty wise^ 'r^iri -i'tH 
 
 And Margery knew her lover dear, >\l^ 
 
 Soon as her window he came near. 
 But now rU leave her with her knight. 
 And tell you of the comiug tight, ;/ 
 
 XIV. XV. 
 
 The Dame meanwhile, was anxious to know 
 How Billy felt, from his deadly blow ; il ? 
 
 A charm was applied, but she was not quite surv 
 Whether or no his wound it would cure : 
 And now the time grew very near. 
 She quaked and sighing felt quite queer ; 
 The gaping crowds more numerous grew. 
 And Dick's great brother's cudgel flew; 
 The trumpets sounded for the strife, 
 And all for mischief now were rife -
 
 CANTO v.] POOR FIDDLES. 09 
 
 When lo! Sir Billy stalking came, 
 Quite fresh he seemed and free from pain t>t>w;M 
 In his best suit he was equipped. 
 Though some few stitches were unripped ; '"' '* 
 Proudly he stood, his cudgel waved, ^^^^ ,r 
 
 And Sawney to the combat braved. '-' ' 'i\\ 
 
 :;fiT 
 
 XVI. XIX. A\ ni4 In./.. 
 
 The Dame and Margery are sat, '<X 
 
 Each combatant has doffed his hat, 'tUi^) \ hixL 
 
 And scraped his shoe ; 
 The knights behind the Dame did stand, 
 ach held a crab-stick in his hand. 
 
 Each squire came too. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The signal given the warriors close, '3<i a*J^ 
 
 And ne'er were heard such mighty blows ; "'*}% 
 
 Each one Jid seem as if 'twould send : ^ ''^f 
 
 A body to its latter end ; 'i-f'A). 
 
 JFor long the strife was held I ween, i-A 
 
 Such fighting ne''r but once was seeji'i i fsi' \\\Jt
 
 ^IP THE LAY OF THE [CANTO V. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 It would not please your pretty ears,>ij, lU-j-ii 
 Ye tender ladies, well I know, ' 
 
 It would but raise your anxious fears. 
 
 And bid the briny tears to flow ; 
 Or I could tell how to each head. 
 The lusty cudgels often sped ; 
 And how they back again rebounded. 
 Nor e'en their pericranium's wounded ; ^atdi ^d') 
 And I could tell how every knock mio lina 
 
 Would soon have fell'd an ox to th' block; 
 But I'll not show my moving parts, ! 'JiI-m.J i 1 
 Nor hurt your sweet and tender hearts. 
 
 XXII. XXIII. 
 Tis broke, 'tis broke ! poor Sawney's sconce 
 Has proved the softest now for once ; 
 He staggers, and aside he reels, . > wi i-n 
 
 He falls he groans and kicks his heeU-J^'" U >r 
 Haste, fetch a plaister and some rum. 
 And send for Dr. Slop to come. 
 Ah ! Sawney thou mayest fret and moaa,>(ij>it dai: 
 Thy fame is now for ever gone ;
 
 CANTO v.] POOR FIDDLKR. lOl- 
 
 No more at cudgels wilt thou play. 
 
 For thoul't bethink thee of this day ; -^^J biO 
 
 Each one will hiss thee when they know, -^^^ 'M).-l 
 
 Thy head's not proof against a blow ! "*" "'''^' 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 As if his head was broken too, nsQ 'ml 
 
 The champion seemed, nor claimed his due, 
 
 But silent he did stand ; 
 His oaken stick he did not wave, 
 Nor heard the shouts of brave, O brave ! 
 
 Nor marked each outstretched hand ; > 
 
 When lo ! the females screamed aloud, " ^'-*^" ' 
 Their faces hid, and all the crowd / ';fi< ti*ii'> 
 
 Did cry" the nasty man :" > h'^rfi-yi'ib id J>b;' 
 And each gave way with a startled roar,' ^^'^ ^**^'^ 
 To one who from the castle doorj .''''^*> '''^ *"? '' ^'^'' 
 
 With speed quite naked ran ; ^ 1t\^s%i^ h(ti' 
 He jumped into the spacious ring. 
 And straight the victor down did fling. 
 Then looked around, and loud did bawl, 
 When each one kn<>w Sir Billy the Tall ! >i* 9'^^
 
 102 THE LAY OF THE [CANT<>^f;^ 
 
 The champion now most strange to tell. 
 Did change his shape, and each knew- well 
 Lord Henry ! who the battle fought. 
 And won the prize the Ladye sought. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The Dame her son now fondly kissed. 
 
 And pressed him to her throbbing breast. 
 
 For, though she seemed of courage high. 
 
 Her heart yet heaved with many a sigh. 
 
 But Henry still she did not greet. 
 
 Although he Ijowed to her very fe^ 
 
 I need not teH how all ihe crowd, ^iVff 
 
 Cried shame, that she should be so proud 
 
 Said he deserved a richer fee. 
 
 Than her fair daughter Margery 
 
 She was his due, each matron cried. 
 
 And straight he flew to Margery's side. 
 
 rjimarj, ^** 
 XXVI. 
 *r4ie Dame, she thought of the large Pig-stye, 
 She thought of tJie Dung-bill .too; .cwkjy n^u/'
 
 CANTO V.J POOR FIDDLER. 103 
 
 Then tossed her head, and belched a sigh. 
 
 And said " she is thy due i.1 
 
 No longer still at variance be. 
 Pride's vanquished now, and love is free.'* 
 She then gave Margery's trembling hand 
 To Henry, but he scarce could stand. 
 And bade him use her well, for she 
 His wife should now hereafter be ; 
 She hoped the company too would stay, ir 
 
 And view her daughter's wedding day. 
 
 xxvn. 
 
 They now retired to rest awhile, i f 
 
 And Henry told with many a smile, il^uVfl 
 
 How he discomfited Sir Billy, 
 
 And made him look so wonderous silly; 
 
 And how his page the knight then bore. 
 
 And placed him at her chamber door ; 
 
 And how the Dwarf had found the book. 
 
 And hid it in a secret nook ; 
 
 And how from it a spell he took, 
 
 >Vhich changed his face^ and shap&, and look ;
 
 Jtlt4 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO V. 
 
 And how by help of this strange charm. 
 
 He paced the castle free from harm ;. 
 
 And how Sir Billy's coat and breeches, 
 
 Gilpin had stolen and ripped the stitches. 
 
 While yet he slept, and how that morn;> W*4^ >>i^ 
 
 The stolen doublet he had w<Mrnii<J-*/r hQhrfik'' ' 
 
 The Dame she listened much amazed. 
 
 And oft in silent wonder gazed : 
 
 She then did vow that page to tame. 
 
 Before another morning came. 
 
 The precious treasure she would save. 
 
 And send it back to Simon's grave. 
 
 The honey'd words, the tender things. 
 
 Which passed between them I'll not tell, 
 
 Nor of the joys which true love brings, 
 
 I shrewdly guess you know them well, 
 
 XXVIII. XXX. -^n'^ 
 
 A flea, or something worse had bit " ** 
 
 Sir Billy as he lay; . W*/for^ 
 
 It rous'd him, and his bed he did quit, '^ 
 
 When he heard a terrible fray :
 
 e'ANTO V.]" POOB FIDDLER. ?lt)8 
 
 He sought his clothes both far and wide. 
 
 And in vain he bawled aloud, 
 Till peeping through a hole he spied. 
 
 Below the bustling crowd ; 
 In the midst a warlike figure stood. 
 
 Arrayed in his best clothes ; 
 In a hurry he ran in an angry mood. 
 
 To tweak the villain's nose. ! i' 
 
 Hence to the yard unclothed he ran, . A 
 
 And hence they cried " the nasty man,"^ 
 Who took him then for some lewd wight, 
 And not Sir Billy that modest knight. 
 
 Still Tommy played, tho' hushed his song. 
 
 To shew his skill he did prolong 
 
 A squeaking symphony, and oft 
 
 The tankard's foaming contents quaifed : 
 
 Sometimes the notes rise high, now f&ll, .7 
 
 Now scarcely are they heard at all; .f!
 
 MB .THE LAY, &c. [canto v;^ 
 
 Now all at once a craHli tremendous. 
 
 Makes them all cry *' good saints defend us :" 
 
 Now seems it like a nutmeg grating ; 
 
 And now it seems a parrot prating ; 
 
 Last a smart jig concludes the wljole 
 
 His tortured bearecs to ->nnsnk.^ f>;,tj Af-yi^r^^-^f-, 
 
 After a silence most expressive, , ti' 
 
 The Ladye fair with looks impressivie, Hi uT 
 
 Asked why, he did not seek the place 
 
 Where merit shines with its own graocj ..' i-nt 
 
 And leave his native village where ' .(< 'i : H 'f 
 
 They treat him like a danciKg-bear ; 
 
 By gaping clowns, and idiots led. 
 
 By monkeys teased, aad fools illbred 
 
 Tom did not like this speech to hear, 
 
 For spite of all, the place was der. 
 
 Where first he drew his vital breath. 
 
 And where he wished to rest tifl deatb. '"!>' ^ 
 
 Less liked^lie stfll those -words to hear ''*^ *^ ^^ 
 
 Which ranked him -with a <!ancing bear f "^'^ 
 
 With flashing eytes frc tlius a^ain 
 
 Loudly resumed his fiddling strain^
 
 'W- 
 
 'A 
 
 THE 
 
 X 
 
 LAY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 

 
 i^rr: 
 
 ^^ "rvr^ 
 
 ^mhi^ 1 -t Ki^*k^ tM iiKtii ^*ii 

 
 OlS 
 
 '- - .M 
 
 TUB 
 
 LAY OF THE POOR FIDDLER. 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 1. ; 
 
 Lives there the man so hard, and short of feeling, 
 I would not value him an apple-peeling, 
 
 Whose heart ne'er leaps when home he turns ; 
 And as each well known scene appears. 
 And each accustomed sound he hears, . s^ 
 
 His callous breast ne'er burns. ! nA 
 
 That man's most honored parts I'd kick^ [ r 
 
 And thrash him with my fiddle-sjick.
 
 tlH^ THE LAY OF THE [CANTO VI. 
 
 II. 
 
 My home I'll prize whate'cr my lot, , 
 
 My home ! 't will never be forgot ; 
 
 And if of fiiends or kin bereft, 
 
 TStill numerous pleasures yet are left ; 
 
 Still thro' each field, and lane, I'll stray. 
 
 And thick of many a happy day, * . <^r f "rt * 
 
 Once spent in that beloved retreat, 
 
 Unenvied by the rich and great; 
 
 Where happiness unsought for came. 
 
 Though far from wealth, or power, or fame. 
 
 Unnoticed then, but happier far 
 
 Than they who wear the glittering star^ 
 
 Heaven's choicest blessings I possest. 
 
 Health and contentment you may guess the rest. 
 
 Though now with numerous cares opprest. 
 
 My weary head I there can rest, -...., 
 
 And sooth my griefs, and calm my fear^.'^->it#-\ 
 
 And spend my last declining years r'J^p'sl^'*p>^l^'^ 
 
 And though forgotten and alone, 
 
 There will I breath my dying groan. 
 
 'jf
 
 CANTO VI.] POOR FIDDLEK. HIT 
 
 Not jeered like me ! to Marnock Hall ,'j" 
 
 The fiddlers sped, at ready call ; rf 
 Tramping from far and near they came, i\ hi^fi 
 
 At the high bidding of the Dame ; 'V' 
 
 Alike for drink, or music willing, ;|/ 
 
 The jovial red-nosed laughing crew, ./ 
 
 Played merrily whilst each can was filling, u 
 
 Whilst brisklj round the goblets flew. 
 
 IV. ';}iuA\ 
 
 I will not sing the splendid rites, ^^^ i, ayino ilT * 
 Nor of the number of wax lights j^j yii^aX eoisn 
 Nor what provision disappeared, ;,if,,,;. .. ;i ' 
 Of these gay f&tes you oft have lieard, 
 And telling what i knows before, WH t/^. 
 
 Will often raise a good loud sDOfe; tv^pmt A' 
 So lest to sleep you feel incliaed,. [ yai hil> nIfij:A 
 Another subject soon I'll &nd^,.iq tisiKV-nq scio?? 
 
 at Vfli/I imi^rt*^ 
 
 : * ' v. VII. ; V Mi ojr bfti: ' 
 
 Now mirth and .glee resooindcd lugii, .^ n^Ki* yfl 
 And grief and care far off did fly ; ^^n lAudf^
 
 112 THE LAY OF Til E [CANTOVf} 
 
 When Gilpin thought to have some fun. 
 
 Before the jovial feast was done : ' 
 
 He stole Sir Billy's foaming cup, ^ 
 
 And in a trice the juice did sup; 
 
 Then whispered in his startled ear. 
 
 Jack Filch had stolen his can of beer ; 
 
 When Billy looked and found it gone. 
 
 He called him lousy-pated John ; * 
 
 Which title so provoked the wight, " 
 
 He stripped and challenged him to fight : 
 
 But Henry and the knight arose, 
 
 Th' enraged warriors to compose : ''-* ff?Tf 
 
 Fierce Jacky looked, yet nothing said. 
 
 But griped his fist, and shook his head 
 
 A fortnight from that very day, ' 
 
 As Billy homeward bent his way, = 
 
 A swinging blow at side o'th' head, ' ^ 
 
 Again did lay him down for dead : '' 
 
 Some peasants passing rather late, ^ 
 
 Found Billy in that piteous state 
 
 And to the castle bore him strait : 
 
 He oon recovered, but his sconce, 
 
 Would never after bear a bounce.
 
 CANTO VI.] POOR FIDDLER. 118 
 
 Gilpin now fearing lest his master* Ifi 
 
 Should see the cause of this disaster ; I 
 
 Made off, and sought the buttery, ; > ; i .t/, 
 
 Where many a bondsman revelled free^**^H i^'if^r 
 There Jemmy Magee his goblet raised, ' ^ i-*^ 
 And drank and oft the liquor praised. // 
 
 t uHi>. I^^tff|''^^.^ W' ^t?^?**** H 
 
 Gilpin bethought him of the stone, M 
 
 Which Jemmy at his hump had thrown ; . t / Ij 
 And swore that he should dearly rue .'"t 
 
 That ever he the boother threw : i^ 
 
 He teazed him first with angry strife, #1 
 
 And told how Hob had sraouched his wife; ' A 
 Then off his plate he fikhed the meat, !! ' ' A 
 And all his nice plum-pudding eat ; -stu^txhi? M 
 Then creeping off so sly behind, "I ^-'A.^nii^HiM-Ji 
 His chair from under him quite kind :ti;( ^r^o?. 
 He sudden plucked, down Jemmy fefrj!'*! tentcl! 
 But first he catched to save himset^,-* i^ of irtiA
 
 114 rVcE LAY OF THE [CANTO VI. 
 
 Tbe table-cloth with viands spread. 
 He pulled it followed on his head. 
 Plates, dishes, all came clattering down. 
 Enough t' have cracked a lawyer's crown. 
 With puddings all bespattered o'er. 
 Silent he lay upon the floor ; 
 Some thought him dead, but other saw 
 A custard right upon his maw 
 Which he lay sucking rightly guessed 
 Of a bad job to make the best ! 
 Back to the parlour Gilpin hasting ; 
 Right sore afraid of a good sound basting : 
 In a darkened nook he soon did go, 'i itir ' 
 And grinned, and shouted, " Oh ! Oh! Ob ! " I 
 
 Had biot baA 
 .^ij^iwsrt* X. 
 The Dame now hearing this affray. 
 And fearing it might last all day ; 
 Bid every fiddler sing a song, ., .. . ..; 
 
 To stop each noisy wagging tonguje^Nj nii>bri :.. 
 First roaring rattling Willie came, . ^4 t-jiil : . - 
 And bowing, stepped unto the Dame ;
 
 CANTO VI,] POOR FIDDLER. 115 
 
 His song was pitched, and thus began 
 
 The rattling, tippling, roaring man. ^ 
 
 XI. 
 
 It was a toper one Saturday night, ^}X ^ 
 
 Tlie fire shines bright on yon Ale-house wall> 
 
 And he would spend a shilling so bright, ij ,^1^ 
 For strong liquor will still be lord of all, ? 
 
 Blithely he posted with jolly red face, ' <j 
 
 To where the fire shines on yon Ale-house wall; 
 
 But that night was scarce o'er when in piteous case. 
 He found that strong liquor was lord of all. , /^, 
 
 He pawned his shirt and his breeches both 
 Where the fire shines bright on yon Ale*hoMse- 
 wall; 
 
 He then did swear a terrible oath, 
 For ire tlmt liquor, was ; lord of all.
 
 l^J^ THE LAY OF THE [CANTO VI; 
 
 XIL ; w igwsafefi' 
 
 In a hurry home he naked ran 
 
 From where the fire shines on yon Ale-house 
 wall ; 
 The night was too cold for a naked man, 
 Tho' strong liquor was still the lord of aU. 
 
 His limbs were coW, tho' his fiice was red 'v 
 As thb fire that shines <w yon Ale-bous^ wall ; 
 
 He craved for admission his wife was in bed. 
 For strong liquor was there the lord of all. 
 
 She looked through the window, ad bade him go 
 Where the fire shines bright on yon Ale-house 
 wall; 
 
 Or she on his hot skull wouM throin^'i>n.v. 
 The liquor that is not lord of all ! 
 
 He shivering ran with might and melrij .mil 
 To where the fire shines on yon Ale-house wall; 
 
 But the door was lock'd, he bawled in vain, 
 For strong liquor was there the lord of all.
 
 CANTO VI.] POOK FIDDLER. llfll 
 
 When morning came, . quite dead he lay, 
 Close by the door ip yon -Ale-house wall ; 
 
 The frost his blood had chilled they say. 
 
 And strong liquor is still the lord of aU ' 
 
 Now all ye topers when ye view 
 
 The fire shining bright on an Ale-house wall; 
 Pray for his soul who once did rue, : H 
 
 That strong liquor was e'ex the lord of all. ll 
 
 XIII. XXII. 
 
 As ended Willie's simple strain. 
 
 Up rose an out-at-th'-elbow poet; '-' 
 
 His merit in the dark had lain, j f"**!? ?ro'' tM O 
 
 And few there are who e'er will know it. 
 Much of thie wild and wonderful mv lUVi 
 
 He loved to picture in his song; jriu.tla jut ( 
 Sometimes he roared like a bitten bull. 
 
 Then soft as the breeze he swept along. 
 
 ,. ., ..p/'
 
 Uttr THE LAY OF THE [CANTO !. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 A Lad ye sat by a river's stream 
 
 When the wild winds had sunk to rest ; 
 
 And the blue waves danced in the moon's pale 
 beam. 
 Which shone on her sable vest. 
 
 Her form was graceful as yon deer. 
 That flies o'er the meadows so gay ; 
 
 Her face was lovely as the rose 
 That blooms in the month of May. 
 
 O had you seen that piteous sight, 
 
 A sight it was sad to see ; 
 You never would have forgot the night. 
 
 You strolled on the banks of the Dee. 
 
 Her hands she clasped in wild despair, 
 To the moon then she seemed to pray ; 
 
 No tear did drop from her eye so fair. 
 Yet it sparkled in the bright ray.
 
 CANTO VI.] POOR FIDDLER. X19 
 
 She sighed as if her heart would break. 
 
 And wildly looked around ; s ^..- . 
 
 Then a letter from her bosom did take^ v.^u\>^ - ilT 
 As she gazed on the dew-spangled ground. 
 
 She saw not the moon, she saw not the ground. 
 Nor the river's hoarse voice did she hear ; 
 
 The fierce winds did whistle she heard not the 
 sound. 
 For she fancied her lover was near. 
 
 " Begone from my sight vile monster," she cry'(|, 
 " Nor dare to insult my last hour ; ^\i\\r\Cii\ A 
 
 1 know thou are come my sad fate to deride. 
 But I soon shall be free from thy power. 
 
 " O shield me kind Heaven, forgive my rash criaae* 
 Let a sufferer's prayer reach thy throne;. 7^ 
 
 May thy wrath and thy vengeance at some future^ 
 time, 
 O'ertake my deceiver alone." ,.^j,^hj|j 'i^^^
 
 f9D THE LAY OF THE [CANTO VI. 
 
 She ceased the parting waves received 
 
 For ever her beauteous form ; 
 The moon bid her face, and the wind did howl, 
 
 'Twas the sound of the coming storm. 
 
 The angry tempest gathered around. 
 Black and heavy the clouds did roll ; 
 
 Strange terror did seize Lord Scroop at the sounds 
 As he drank of the festive bowl. 
 
 The wind did shake every turret so tall. 
 And a death-like moan sounded near ; 
 
 A horrible shriek rang thro* the hall. 
 When a spectre pale did appear ! 
 
 Astonishment seized on every heart. 
 Like stocks they were motionless all ; 
 
 They saw Lord Scroop from his goblet start, 
 And aloud he for help did call. 
 
 His face did wear an ashy hue. 
 And his eye-balls did wildly roll ; 
 
 -t"
 
 CANTO VI.] POOR FI^ALfeii. iM 
 
 His lips were likte tott'e Whiiisfone Blue, 
 Strangie terror Had seized bis soul. 
 
 H 
 
 Still paler grew fiis ^agard j;heek. 
 As the spectre clung to his side f 
 
 Its icy hand his blood had chilled. 
 He sunk lie groanied and died. 
 
 Still to this day, no mortal wight. 
 
 Dare enter that castle gate ; ^ 
 
 Strange forms 'tis said, do nightly tread, ' " 
 
 Where its owner once proudly sate. 
 
 - .' ) - . ' .. tC iili ti'jji 
 
 Ye youths who hear this tale beware, 
 
 , ' J liiii/A 
 Break not your vows your plighted love ; 
 
 Or that dread power, which guards the fair. 
 
 Will hurl swift vengeance from above. 
 
 > .. wit ji la won ttifl 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 So sweet was Sawney's piteous lay. 
 
 Scarce marked the guests how dark ft grew^;
 
 122 THE LAY OF THE [CANTO TI. 
 
 Tho' long before the close of day. 
 
 Each one his neighbour scarce could view. 
 
 But now when Sawney ceased his bawl, 
 They shuddered, and each glass did fall 
 
 From every opened mouth so wide. 
 The Dame how she did sweat and blow; 
 She feared a visit from below. 
 
 And scarce her terror could she hide 
 Gilpin for fear did strangely roar 
 And flat he fell 'gainst the pantry door. 
 
 17/ 
 XXV. 
 
 Then all at once, down the chimney came 
 
 Awful to tell soot, smoke, and flame! 
 
 The guests with dust were covered o>r, -' '/ 
 
 And clouds of smoke rolled through the do#r ; 
 
 The ceiling once of snowy white, ':.t 
 
 Was now most hideous to the sight, >."- 
 
 All covered with a suit of black 
 
 But look ! each eye beholds a sack 
 
 Of large dimensions, marching up
 
 CANTO yK. POOR FIDDLER. 128 
 
 The chimney and an awful smell, ^ 
 
 Salutes each oustretched nose right well. i>'" '' 
 
 i>a/\ 
 
 When this strange business was o'er, ^' 
 
 I'he Dwarf was gone and seen no mora ! ! 
 
 XXVI. ^ 
 
 When ended was the dire commotion, ^ ,^ 
 
 Some heard a terrible explosion ; ^, ^ 
 
 Some an unmannered foot did find ^ 
 
 Applied most lustily behind ;. 
 A hollow voice was heard by some. 
 Cry out aloud " come Gilpin come I" 
 And near the spot where Gilpin fell, tr <. utrl 
 They saw a sack,, most strange to tell" ' ..'l^ 1 
 Wide yawning, and a hideous sprite, j 
 
 Seiz. on the mischief-making wight: .^ 
 
 The men right fearfully did quake. 
 And every bended knee did shake ; // 
 
 But Billy loudly roar'd and prayed, ^^ 
 
 And flat upon the floor he laid, 
 Sputt'ring and squeezing hard his nose. 
 And safely guarding it with clothes-^^
 
 HjI^ the lay of thb [canto. >jj. 
 
 At length he rose with much ado. 
 And looked naost laughable to view. 
 So frighted was he at the smell. 
 The reason why, he could not tell. 
 But some strange words he faintly uttered, 
 And 'tween each syllab^ he sputtered : 
 'T was long befofe they understood. 
 What 't was he meant, if ill, or good ; 
 At last by fits apd- st^rt^ he told. 
 His tongue it could no longer hold^ 
 How he had seen, he was quite sure, 
 Come marchpg from the cellar-door 
 A man with a blanket wrapped round. 
 With a leathern girdle it was hound ; 
 And that same stench before he had felt. 
 It matters not where it was smelt ; 
 Suffice it to- say^' (bpw they knew not) 
 This was the conjurer Simon Sqott ! ! 
 
 XXVH. 
 The gaping, crpw^i^^ yi\\^ 'RP^s^? P^'t 
 And hair uplifted. i|ear^ th,e talj^ ;
 
 CAN159 ^*'} ?ooB v\ni>m^, i^ 
 
 No sound was heard, no motion made. 
 
 Till one more frightened than the others j. (if 
 With cheeks white as an egg new-laid^. 
 
 Made off and left his wife and brother^. ,. ... , 
 The rest like frighted sheep sopn fpllpweij^, .et^t^T 
 The women ^hriekecj, th^ ^oldiers haj^loo^flf . j ,.|*, 
 None daring now behind to lop,k, 
 Each for a ghost his neighboifr took. r* 
 
 Scrambling, fightiog, kicking, sjyearing, ,10 hill' 
 Doors quite off the hinges tearing, 
 Men and maids together squeezii^, i^r, a/i 
 
 Heads and feet prx)miscuous seizip^; f i^^iVi' 
 
 Soon the castle wa^ well cleared, irov^l' 
 
 From this rabble as I have h^rd^ ? rtodW'^ 
 
 And eaclj b^g^n ^ ro^r and pra;y, m V wi " 
 
 When fright had ta'en all sense away ; 
 And when safe housed, from danger free, 
 They vowed no more that place to see ; 
 But snug and warm in cot remain,. , . , ,, 
 
 Nor tread an^bit^s p^a^ j ...^ , ^j.
 
 i^ THE LAY OF THE [CANTO VI. 
 
 XXVItL XXXI. 
 
 The marriage rites I need not tell : ^ 
 
 Nor what soon afterwards befell, 
 
 And all that now Tve got to say. 
 
 Is that for husbands I will pray. 
 
 To bounteous heaven that you may get. 
 
 And quickly too, what no maid yet, ' '^^^^^^s*'*^ 
 
 Did ever coyishly refuse. 
 
 But on considering on't she rues ; 
 
 And wishes oft her tongue was slit, 
 
 For missing such a lucky hit : 
 
 Then maidens let me now advise. 
 
 If you would be discreet and wise 
 
 When to your arms a lover flies, " ' ' 
 
 Say nought for once you'll gain the prie ! - ^ 
 
 Hushed is the fiddle Tommy's gone. 
 
 But did he roam, unhoused, unknown, 
 
 as* <*s4> 
 Again thro' wilds and deserts drear? 
 
 No succour nigh, or alehouse near I
 
 CANTO VI.] POOR FIDDLBip. 127 
 
 Oh no: close by this stately hall, ; ^ijl jio baA 
 So snug, with newly white-washed wall, ' ' jA 
 Appears Tom's cot ; with lattice clean, [T 
 
 And window-shutters painted green : ;^ 
 
 A garden, hen-pen, and a stye, j. riosj ba4 
 
 Well stock'd with sundries, stand close by ibI|/oJi 
 And every want is M'ell supplyed, ,jo{ 'id) hn^^ 
 And every blessing is enjoyed. ,MHid zi'i no ^-n^ 
 There oft at eve, when the rude blast ,, 
 
 Howled round his cot of times long past 
 He told the long and mournful tale. 
 And sung and quaffed the nut-brown ale; ,j 
 Whilst circled round the cheerful blaze, .. 
 
 The listening guests with strange amaze, ,^ . 
 Oft heard the tales of former days. . -^ 
 
 When summer with gay mantle spread 
 The smiling earth with bounties fed ; 
 When o'er the fields of waving corn. 
 The fragrant breath of balmy morn, 
 Stole soft by fanning zephyrs borne ; 
 I'hen seated near some spreading oak, 
 To rapturons strains his soul awoke !
 
 ttB ta* tXY, ft%. [cAN-rb >i. 
 
 And oft his fidd) iv6ti\A he rais!, ' ^*^ ' 
 
 And sing the deeds of other dayS. }'' ;iiJ"2 <^'' 
 The listening hind would drop his spatiie^^*<''Jt|*l^ 
 Forgetful of his hardy trade; a'w bat 
 
 And each sweet maid the strain to catch,"^^''^ ^ 
 Would soft and slow the door unl&tch; ^*2 Ha'^^ 
 And the lone brook that crept aloiijgjff f-iyfft heif 
 Bore on its breast thfe fiddler's song.4<f i^iava h/ 
 
 bauot balwoli 
 
 . >iu{ sdl blol tiii 
 
 t> has jnua buA 
 
 itslsib )eliri // 
 
 ;h*j1adfJ:i ' ' '' "fini** ail'i 
 
 ^moa gui/.. . ,. ... -: x^'o Usui 7/ 
 ,fnoni ymi:.d lo Htf^n'f tnuigOTl 'jii'l 
 
 Ao sKu'"
 
 NOTES.
 
 .Rr^Toz
 
 .-.'Jf 
 
 ,ui atio 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 Note I. 
 The supper was over at Mac Marnock Hall. P. 15. 
 
 1 AM sorry that I cannot give ray readers either 
 the pedigree of this illustrious family, or the to- 
 pographical and historical account of the ancient 
 edifice and its environs, as my friend the Fiddler 
 never favoured me with so valuable a piece of in- 
 formation ; but should suppose from the tenor of 
 the poem, it was situated in Scotland, near the 
 English borders ; and thatthe time when this scene 
 commenced, was when thieving and plundering 
 were carried on to a great extent between the two 
 countries, sanctioned by the example of Lords, 
 Knights, and other hen-roost heroes of that age. 
 
 Having hinted thus far, I shall leave the rest to 
 be devoloped by the profound and scientific re- 
 searches of our learned Antiquarians, who like- 
 travellers that have long journied over desarts, 
 wild and uncomfortable, and, at length arriving
 
 182 ^* )TES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 at a country where nature has displayed her boun- 
 teous hand, in adorning it with every thing that 
 can please the eye or gratify the taste, wisely 
 resolve to turn back and retrace their weary 
 footsteps to those inhospitable regions they have 
 just quitted, merely for the pleasure of recalling 
 to mind some of the uncomfortable sensations they 
 experienced during their tedious march ! 
 
 Note II. 
 Or talked of sweethearts in the pantry. P. 16. 
 Tliis is generally the place where the mcuial 
 tribe resort to converse about their loves. Why 
 they should prefer it, has never yet, I believe, 
 been demonstrated, but it is my opinion (with due 
 defc.^iuce to the other learned opinions >\ Iiich may 
 hereafter be given) that the gloom which often 
 pervades a pantry, answers the same end to them 
 as the gloomy covert of the woods and groves tt 
 the more refined classes of society ; and therefore 
 I think this line, truly poetical as well as descrip- 
 tive of the manners of so valuable a part of the 
 community, and that it certainly does great credit 
 to Tommy's genius, but as I cannot now enlarge, 
 perhaps at some future time I may favour the world 
 \\\\\i au essay on the subject, provided no other 
 profound metaphysical or physiological writer
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 133 
 
 sfteiBg ite iinpuilauce, shall in the mean time an- 
 ticipate my intentions. 
 
 Note III. 
 If Daddy murderer I see, 
 I'll ahoot him with mif great pop-gun ! P. 19. 
 
 This seems more characteristic of the puny re- 
 venge of a chilfl than what the minstrel sings in a 
 poem, highly celebrated in the present day, which 
 runs thus, 
 
 " And it I live to be a man, 
 
 My father's death revenged shall be." 
 
 Note IV. 
 By night or day he could foretel. 
 The change of empires and foul weather. P. 20. 
 From this it seems he was fully as clever as our 
 almanack astrologers of the present age, who cer- 
 tainly display talents of the most exalted kind, in 
 being able to turn their minds from the loftie&t, 
 heights of human knowledge, to give us (even in 
 the same page with the infallible predictions con- 
 cerning the rise and fall of Kingdoms, States, and 
 Empires,) such useful and profitable intelligence 
 as the following, vi?.: "rain" or "fair a few 
 days either before or after;" and as Dr. John- 
 son observes, " Every man acquainted with ^Ije
 
 t$4 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 
 
 " common principles of human action, will look 
 " with veneration on the man who is at one time 
 " combating Locke, and at another making a ca- 
 *' techism for children- in their fourth year," so 
 must we for the same reason, revere the talents 
 of those who can turn their eyes from viewing the 
 distant fate of nations, to examine into the pro- 
 bable descent of a shower of rain ! 
 
 Note V. 
 
 Sack I shall come you need not fear. 
 
 Ere the jack-daws see the sun. P. 27. 
 This is far more characteristic than if he had 
 said, " Ere Aurora with her rosy hands, opens the 
 " golden portals of the east, and ushers in the 
 " king of day, then expect me," ^or if he had ex- 
 pressed himself thus, " Ere the dappled clouds 
 " with gold bedecked proclaim the approach of 
 " morn, await my coming." These expressions 
 would have been far too sublime for Sir Billy to 
 have uttered on the occasion, and would have 
 sounded quite ludicrously from the mouth of such 
 a person as he is described to be. Yet nothing is 
 more common in many literary productions of the" 
 present age, than to hear of a ragged fellow who 
 can neither read nor write, pouring forth a torrent 
 ttf enthusiastic rhapsodies with all the energy of a
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIRST. 186 
 
 Shakespeare or the dignity of a Milton, on the 
 most trivial occasions. 
 
 "Tis unnatural 
 
 And lie who once o'ersteps the bounds of nature. 
 Sinks 'midst the 'whelming flood of inspiration 
 And ne'er rises more!" 
 
 " JackdaM's are birds that generally build their 
 nests on the highest part of a building," and hence 
 Sir Billy very justly infers, they will behold the 
 sun before he is visible to any of the other inmates 
 of the castle, which is a very natural as well as 
 poetical idea. 
 
 Note VI. 
 But while our Fiddler rests aivhile, Sfc. P. 29. 
 
 For the introduction of this digression, I have 
 only the same apology to make with which a cele- 
 brated writer has graced a similar parenthesis, 
 viz. : " It was written upon the spot during the 
 " summer of 1811, and, I scarce know why ; the 
 "reader must excuse its appearance here if he 
 can."
 
 iS tig 
 
 '8 
 O
 
 NOTES TO CANTO 11, 
 
 Note I. 
 When the Owl in his great wisdom cries 
 Whoo-oo, then shuts his learned eyes." P. 3^. 
 
 From this it appears, that shutting the eyes af- 
 ter a silly speech, even in the brute creation, as 
 well as amongst our own species, is thought to 
 be indicative of a great depth of understanding. 
 
 Note II. 
 And home returning thou mayest swear 
 Never so stiff stood up thy hair ! ! ! P. 36. 
 The effect produced on visiting the ruins of aa 
 abbey alone, at the solemn hour of midnight, is 
 here finely described, and is far more natural, in 
 my opinion, than what is so much admired in a 
 verse from a celebrated poem on the same subject, 
 the conclusion of which runs thus. 
 
 And, home returning, soothly swear. 
 Was never scene so sad and fail ! 
 9
 
 ISS NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 Note III 
 With strange conceits the roof was driven. 
 And each corbel f was carved with uncouth pridr. 
 In shapes which seemed put there to tvif. 
 If monkish gravity they might defy. P. 40. , . 
 
 These grotesque figures so much admired in the 
 gothic syle of architecture, are very happily imi- 
 tated in this our present day and generation, and, 
 if this taste continues, instead of having the soft 
 and elegant synmietry of a Venus or an Apollo, 
 to decorate our houses and gardens, we may soon 
 expect to view in their place, the rude and de- 
 lightful disjiroporlions, of monsters that for ugli- 
 ness would bear the palm from an Indian idol ! 
 
 Note IV. 
 You would have thought the windows tall 
 To shut out day and night were made. 
 Or else some statute had forbade 
 The use of ivhat ivas given to all. P. 41. 
 It is astonishing to observe the contradictory 
 spirit whfch has prevailed over the generality of 
 mankind in all ages ; whatever is forbidden, or 
 whatever is thought to be the most difficult to ob- 
 tain, is sure to be an object above all others the 
 most sought after : whilst those pleasures which 
 arc easily enjoyed, and to the attainmeut of wliieh
 
 N<itEiS To CANTO SECOND. 139 
 
 no obstacles are presented, are thrown away, as 
 worthless and unhiviting. When the light of 
 Heaven was free unto all men, onr ancestors seem- 
 ed to guard as mnch as possible, against' the 
 danger of admitting too much of it into their habi- 
 tations, but now, when three feet of light is more 
 than what many people can afford to pay for, we 
 every where see acres of glass, and a genteel ha- 
 babitation, presents the appearance of a fairy pa- 
 lace, where a single touch will utterly demolisJi 
 its glittering and splendid appearanpe. ?>i;^,i,.,;,f, ,,) 
 
 Note 5.. ' :'<-. ;.;', \-i^rii-i\ 
 Bui to 'tis gone ! the stinking charm ,.-,,i ^.^ 
 Dispels and frees his nose from harm. P. 47. 
 In tales of enchantment we often read of some 
 hideous sight suddenly disappearing, when those 
 to whom they have been opposed, have had cou- 
 rage enough to face them boldly, as the following 
 extract from a very rare and valuable manuscript 
 wil shew: .ih >Tf.>;v- *,'".:? ' 
 
 "And it carafe to passe that Syr Launcdot 
 '* sawe a grete fyre brennynge and divers fierce 
 "and terribell tbynges, dyd seeme to issue tfaere- 
 " from, so myghty dreadfull to beholde that none 
 *' mote looke thereon for feare. and there was a 
 "Tcry dedlye stenche, so that no mon could byde,
 
 14JI NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 *' but Syr Launcolot lyfteying up his hondea be- : 
 " soughte that this stenche mote deperte from . 
 " him, and rushyuge in boldlye, lyke unto a lyon, 
 " lo ! the fyre that was brennyoge, and the 
 " terribell thynges that dyd seeme to come there- 
 " from, and the noysome stenche dyd all sud- 
 ** denlye flee and he went on his waye unmolest- 
 " ed." 
 
 Note VI. 
 
 A noise afar off he hears 'tis said 
 
 And through the dark mist he can see. P. 52. 
 
 There is a tale I remember to have heard our 
 washerwoman relate to me when a child,, of a 
 mighty magician, who was guilty of the most enor- 
 mous cruelties to those fair ladies, who had the 
 misfortune to fall into his hands. His castle was 
 situated on a plain, that was constantly enveloped 
 with a dense fog, which prevented any from fiud-i 
 ing their way through the numerous snares and 
 pitfalls with which it was infested. Several va- 
 liant knights hearing of his conduct, endeavoured 
 to overcome him, but they had never been heard 
 of since the adventure was undertaken, and many 
 despaired of ever seeing his overthrow accom- 
 plished. At length a strange knight made known 
 his intentioi) of executiog the arduous enterprize,
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND, l4l 
 
 but every one pitied him, and was confident 
 that he was rushing headlong to destruction. 
 
 This knight was constantly attended by a dwarf, 
 who, by many was supposed to be a supernatural 
 being. The account his master gave of him was 
 this : as he was hunting one summer's evening, 
 and had strayed at some distance from his attend- 
 ants, he heard a voice crying most piteously. 
 Oh, Oh, Oh, imagining it was some one in dis- 
 tress, he immediately rode towards the place from 
 whence the sound proceeded, when suddenly this 
 unshapely thing darted from a thicket, and so fright- 
 ened his horse that the spirited animal plunged 
 and threw him, but the dwarf immediately laying 
 hold of the bridle prevented him from running 
 away, and held the stirrup whilst the knight re- 
 gained his' seat ; from that time he had been 
 in his service, nor had he ever found reason 
 to repent of his choice, as Gilpin (which was the 
 name he generally called himself; had several times 
 freed him from the consequences of some disasters 
 which might have terminated fatally but for his 
 interference, and he had not the least doubt 
 but that through his help he should overcome 
 the monster, who had spread such terror through- 
 out the neighbourhood. 
 
 At length the day appointed came that was tw>
 
 l4i NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 determine the fate of this bold adventurer, he 
 was attended to the borders of the niagician's ter- 
 ritories by a numerous train of princes and nobles, 
 who offered tip prayers incessantly for bis safe re- 
 turn. ' '"="> 
 
 In a short time they 6a# h^fforie' them'a thick 
 mist, the cavalcade stopped, and soon the knight 
 and his trusty dwarf were seeh to enter sword ib 
 hand through the dreadful vapour, which immedi- 
 ately tiosed upon thera, and screened their forms 
 from observation. 
 
 M6st anxiously did the crowd await the event, 
 and every mind was wrought up to the highest 
 jiitcb \\^th fear Jtnd expectation. when suddenly 
 the mist disappeared, and with joy they beheld 
 the knight returning with the magician's head ou 
 tbe point of his sM'ord, followed by his d\varf and a 
 numerous train of blooming ladies and valiant 
 knights, whom he had rescued from captivity, and 
 whowere immediately recognised by their respec- 
 tive friends with joyful accfamations. Blessings- 
 resounded from every sidie on the head of their de- 
 liverer, and every one seemed eager to testifv their- 
 gratitude by presenting him \Vith some valilablt' 
 token of remembrance. tji . 
 
 After the first tumult of joy'^l9s"i>Ver,* 'tfie^ 
 eagerly enquired by what means he had been eli-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 143 
 
 ablcd to accomplish this wonderful change ; hav- 
 ing received some refreshment he thus began. 
 * When Gilpin and myself arrived near the 
 
 * verge of the mist, he bid me hold fast by the 
 ' skirts of his doublet, and he would lead me 
 ' through the snares and pitfalls which would be- 
 
 * set our path. I accordingly complied, and with 
 ' my sword in one hand and Gilpin's skirt in the 
 ' other, followed him on entering I felt an un- 
 
 * usual heat which seemed to increase as we 
 ' proceeded, and almost threatened to suspend 
 
 * respiration ; however I resolved to go on at 
 ' the hazard of my life and brave the consequen- 
 ' ces. Gilpin bade me tread very cautiously, as 
 
 * the path by which we were going was very nar- 
 ' row and a false step would plunge me headlong 
 
 * iijto the yawning gulphs, which gaped horribly 
 ' on each side. After walking on in this manner 
 
 * for about half an hour the heat gradually, dcr. 
 ' creased. 'I saAV nothing all this time but a thick' 
 'white vapour, which appeared very bright, but 
 
 * at the same time so dense that I could not eve 
 
 * see my hand Gilpin now told me that he 
 'plainly saw the magician's castle,, jyjd on the 
 ' battlements he could distinguish the magician 
 
 * hiujself who seemed highly diverted at behold- 
 
 * iqtj i^s ,^n ^i^ t^jritories, an(J was> beating a chal-
 
 144 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 *dron of pitch for our entertainment when w* 
 
 * arrived at his castle. I was rather alarmed at 
 'this intelligence, but Gilpin said I had nothing 
 
 * to fear, and that if I would follow his injunc- 
 *tions we should soon have the satisfaction of 
 
 * seeing the downfall of this cruel monster. 
 
 ' He told me the magician expected we should 
 
 * arrive at his castle, for he saw that I was under 
 
 * supernatural guidance, but he was quite mis- 
 
 * taken as to the power he had to cope with, " for" 
 
 * added Gilpin, " he knows the charm which up- 
 " holds him can never be broken uiitil a human 
 " being, endowed with a supernatural intellect, 
 ** shall tread on a certain talisman, which lies con- 
 "cea led within his castle. That bcingam I, though 
 " the magician suspects it not, but supposes I 
 " am some familiar spirit that owing thee a grudge, 
 *' hath taken this etfectual method of leading thee 
 ** on to destruction. 
 
 "When we are through this mist thon wilt see 
 ** his castle, and the magician will come down and 
 " invite us in : thou must boldly enter the gate 
 *' sword in hand and I will follow, first taking 
 ** care to make a cross on the outside with this 
 ** yellow earth I now give thee, as that will secure 
 " our safe return. After we are through the gates 
 " I will again take the lead, but take care, and do not
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 14^ 
 
 * let the dazzling splendour which will every 
 " where meet thine eyes attract thy attention, for 
 ** thou must attentively observe my motions, and. 
 " whatever I do, take care thou doest likewise." 
 
 After these instruction^ we walked on for a 
 ' little while, when suddenly I saw a magnificent 
 * castle with brazen doors, and pinnacles that glit- 
 
 * tered in the sun-beams like polished gold ; the 
 
 * windows were of pure crystal, and every part 
 
 * of this splendid building seemed as if wrought 
 
 * by the hands of fairies; so exquisite was the 
 ' workraansliip, and so wonderful the beauty of 
 
 * its appearance. I did not howev<*r los sight of 
 ' my guide, but closely observed him till we came 
 
 * to the gates, when a venerable old man with 
 '' * snowy locks came and beckoned us to enter. I 
 
 * made a cross on the outside, and sword in baud 
 
 * boldly advanced through the opened portal, 
 ' first looking behind to see that Gilpin followed, 
 ' which he did very closely. When we were 
 ' through tlie gate, he again went first, following 
 
 * the old man, who, after taking us through a 
 /number of "magnificent apartments, perfumed 
 'with the moi?t fragrant odours, and adorned with 
 ' the most splendid ornaments that the imaghia- 
 ' tiou could possibly devise, led us into a roon^ 
 ' where a i^\t was placed, covered -with the Hiost 
 
 -' '-'^ ' ' r : .-, .
 
 14<S NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 
 
 ' delicate viands to temp|; our longing appetites. 
 ' Gilpin sat down, and accordingly I followed his 
 ' example . I saw him look earnestly at me and 
 'take a peach, and immediately the old man of- 
 'fered me a bunch of grapes which I declined, at 
 
 * the same time saying, I would gladly be permit- 
 
 * ted to help myself to a peach ; the latter looked 
 ' sternly at me for a moment, but soon assuming a 
 'placid countenance, he politely begged I would 
 ' take only what was agreeable, he then offered 
 ' Gilpin wine which he took. I observed he did 
 'not swallow it, but held the liquor in his mouth, 
 ' and as our host was helping me to another, he 
 ' conveyed a small quantity of it into the old man's 
 ' glass which was standing near, and the rest he 
 
 ' squirted into a box that he held in his hand. j 
 
 I appeared to drink mine likewise, but after- 1 
 ' wards took an opportunity of conveying it into 
 * my handkerchief without being noticed. The 
 ' old man now took up his glass, and drinking off , 
 ' the contents, said, he hoped we should remain \ 
 t in his castle all night, where, every thing we saw 
 ' would be at our command, and in the morning 
 ' we might resume our journey ; this was a very 
 ' different reception to what I had imagined, and 
 'my surprizfi was slill more augmented at hearing 
 ' jii y dwarf assure him we should stay that night
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. 147 
 
 hiJ 
 
 'at his castle. However, I kept silence, and at- 
 
 * tentively watched their motions. I now observed 
 ' Gilpin close his eyes and sink back in the chair 
 'as if asleep accordingly I did the same, and re-' 
 ' mained in that situation till Gilpin surprised me 
 
 * by calling out, " rouse. Sir Knight, our work is 
 "almost finished," Immediately I started from 
 ' my sleeping posture, and opening my eyes beheld 
 ' in the place of this venerable old man, an ugly 
 'deformed monster asleep, and apparently in 
 ' my power, I seized my sword and was going 
 
 * to attempt his destruction, when Gilpin held 
 *my hands, and begged I would restrain my im- 
 
 * petuosity, for the magician was at present invul- 
 ' nerable, and would probably awake if I offered 
 ' Mm ant violence. He informed me that the ma- 
 
 * giciah had fallen asleep through the effects of the 
 
 * liquor conveyed into his glass, and had immedi- 
 ' ately resumed his proper shape. He then said 
 
 * he would hasten and seek the talisman, whilst I 
 
 * remained in the room, and on a signal being giveii, 
 '1 must speedily, and at one blow if possible, cut 
 
 * off the magician's head, as he would then have 
 
 * l6st all power of defence. All this as you see 
 ' has been fortunately accomplished, - together 
 
 * with the deliverance of a number, of unhappy ' 
 'caprtvies, TPt'bo^iien the spell was dissolved, in^ 
 
 i' ''"" -i . .::-' ^r /i<r, -tiT
 
 14^ 
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECONB. 
 
 ' mediately regained their natural forms and were 
 ' set at liberty. I have now only to recommend 
 * my dwarf's services to your kindness, hoping 
 ' they will not go unrewarded, but that he may 
 ' ^jvply share with me any benefits you may feel 
 ' disposed to confer.' 
 
 The knight and his squire were now conducted 
 in triumph to the city, and there remained for 
 some time, crowned with the highest testimonials 
 of gratitude and respect, till on the death of the 
 kuig this knigbt was unanimously elected in his 
 stead, and arrived to the high honour of reigning 
 over a people by whom he was universally beloved. 
 
 The dwarf shared with him the honours and la- 
 bours of the state for a number of years, and 
 never was a kingdom more happily governed. 
 
 Gilpin had always a strong propensity to mis 
 chief, but this disposition was properly kept under 
 Ijy his master, who had absolute controul over 
 him, and never let him do a material injury to any 
 one. He would often go apart from the rest of the 
 company and shout "Oh ! Oh ! Oh !" most piteous 
 ly, but would soon after return and be as mis 
 chievous as ever. 
 
 It was supposed Ihat he never died, but yean 
 translated into the other world in his natural body. 
 The following I have heard related as an authea- 
 'tic account respecting his disappearance.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SECOND. I4ft 
 
 One day whilst he was teazing the guests who 
 were invited to a feast in honor of the king's birth- 
 day -the room suddenly grew excessively dark, 
 and a flash of lightning darted full upon the dwarf 
 who fell down, shouting " Ah! Ah ! Ah !" and was 
 jiever seen more. 

 
 m^j 
 
 nn' >ifo tiitaoi? U^ odv.-
 
 J 
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 
 
 ,, Note I. 
 
 But happily for him his head 
 Received the lusty blow. P. 60. 
 ^^,l This reminds me of an anecdote I once heard of 
 a hookseller who was one day airing himself at the 
 shop-door, when his sign which was the bust of 
 Socrates, fell close at his feet, without doing him 
 any harm, Some of his friends afterwards 
 congratulating him upon his providential escape, 
 he good huraou redly said, " think not that ray 
 "head, but rather that the busi ^as liad*d[ luckv 
 "escape from a serious injury." 
 
 ' .1-. slit J5'.* iS \.:.<.\ VUVMW AiVn s\,i\\\ 
 
 Tor had it' lower been 'tis sai d 
 It ivould have laid him low. P. 60. 
 An excellent pun, aind wotthv of a place in any 
 of our modern comedies, -for it dpes not ofte|^
 
 152 KOTES TO CANTO THIR. 
 
 happen that authors now-a-days are guilty of hit- 
 ting upon a pun or hon-mot, except now and then 
 a bungling attempt, which instead of shewing an 
 exuberance of fancy, only serves to exhibit the 
 scantiness of its materials. 
 
 Note III. 
 
 Hi Awaj/ Lord tJenry gallopped fastj 
 O'er hill and winding dale. 
 Nor halted e'en his spittle to cast. 
 Till he spied his native vale. ^P. 61. 
 I tvould recommend a careful examination of the 
 latter^part of this verse by the reader, as it i 
 finely descriptive of an effect produced by fear. 
 
 Note IV. 
 
 U lo imdt " ,hifi^ .'ih^.r 
 Did pass unknown to any there \ 
 
 He pinched the legs of each sleeping knight. 
 
 When each awoke and loud did swear. 
 
 The fleas most horridly did bite ! P. 64. 
 
 A far more natural conclusion for persons in 
 
 their situation, than the following. 
 
 And each did after S'.veur and say, 
 There only passed a wain of hay " 
 
 Vide Lay of the Last MiMtrd. P. %U 
 
 q5-
 
 ^OTES TO CANTO THIKP. t^ 
 
 Note V. 
 
 The watch from off the ramparts high, 
 Saw two large gib-cats passing by, P. GS.^t 
 In the renowned history of the giant Glumfun- 
 derloo, there is a similar circumstance, while % 
 captive Princess is changed into a hen by tlie in- 
 terposition of a fairy, and in this disguise with th^ 
 help of her wings, she eludes the vigilance of h^r 
 guard and escapes. 
 
 Note VI. 
 
 So he made a wry face at the startled child. 
 And off he ran through the forest wild. P. 6^. 
 
 Very natural for persons who are prevented 
 from venting their rage in a more effectual m^- 
 ner. 
 
 Note VII. 
 
 She thought perhaps in the book he had read. 
 And that his scanty wits were fled. P. 70. 
 We have often heard of the dreadful effects pro- 
 dnced on the human mind by reading magical 
 books, &c. and I have now by me a very curious 
 and rare pamphlet on this subject, printed ia black 
 tj
 
 lfe4 NOTES TO CANTO TfilRlT. 
 
 letter, (date unknown^, which I intend shortly ! 
 dispose of by auction, it will be put up at the 
 low price of one hundred guineas, and can assure 
 the bibliomaniacs it is far short of its real worth, 
 as the deity whom they worship (I mean Time) 
 has taken it in a special manner under his pro- 
 tection, insomuch as to have rendered it almost 
 illegible, and consequently of inestimable ralue. 
 From this work, with much labour, I have made 
 the following extract illustrative of the above pas- 
 sage. 
 
 * 2lnl) hv TotU if)(vt toji<5 a Ijttel bofee, ant) no 
 t' Igbegngc tj^gnge mote locfec tj^cregnnc, gctte DgO 
 " 3^Vi^ i^lartgn, \)ev)\tit mobcl) t|)creto bgc rfasonn^ 
 " of ti)e coun^fU of tlje tebgU, rggibte focIgs|)flpe 
 " oppen gttf, U)l?en guDljcnlp \jt fell Dotone a$ ggff 
 *? Ccct) anD from tfjatte tgme |)c ncucr gjpaU agcn.'* 
 
 Note VIII. 
 
 Alas ! she was uncommon flat. P. 70. 
 A figurative expression, and agreeing well with 
 fhc solemnity of the subject.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THIRD. 15* 
 
 Note IX. 
 
 Then idly swung in a rocking chair, 
 To sooth her bosom's anxious care. P. 71* . 
 Til is is well known to be of service in lulling 
 the troubled mind to rest, and soothing the sor- 
 rows of the care-worn soul, as we see exemplified 
 iii the method made use jof to ke(^ children quiet. 
 
 ' nnn&i-lri Au,^ ^' 
 ' "W40 
 
 Wti >ttii fctt'M )A<i \ fi.
 
 'T 
 
 i doidw aiesdioq 
 fOB iuo 
 
 . ^ ,;^il 9ini liorfj ai e^nifiJ 
 
 I efi tenia <se i9bxi^ ,aoilBtt2uUi (sahfifn 
 
 -jtjl'jva'* n')'*d oJTrilid md tariw 
 
 trfgio sdJ to ewobitdn
 
 NOTES TO CANTO IV. 
 
 THoU !. 
 
 Whtt^tr you g6 3i/ dale of kill. 
 
 You'll Jind them journeying sontkn^ardi stilt. V. 1i. 
 
 This is a known fact, and well worthy the at- 
 tention of the learned, as philosophers have never 
 yet, I believe, given afny satisfactory explanation 
 as to the cause from whence this emigration arises. 
 
 It will be unnecessary to notice the various hy- 
 pothesis which have been framed in order to 
 (ccoant for this Seeming anomaly, as I shall with- 
 out any more delay, proceed to give what appears 
 to me. a very probable and satisfactory solutron of 
 tins once difficuH problem, which will I hope set 
 things in their true light, and by a simple mathe- 
 matical illustration, render as clear as noon day, 
 what has hitherto been enveloped in the darkest 
 i(hadows of the night
 
 15(1 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 Philosophers now seem to be pretty well agreed, 
 as to the figure of our earth being an. oblate sphe- 
 roid, flattest at the poles, the equatorial parts being 
 higher than the polar regions in the proportion of 
 230 to 229. >Vi* :!>\ muA ,'\*vj'kji 
 
 The following quotation from Df. Rees's Cyclo- 
 paedia, relative to the figure and motion of the 
 earth, will at the same lime explain our present 
 difficult and important question. 
 
 " As the earth revolves about its axis, all it 
 ^' parts will endeavour to recede from the axis of 
 *' motion, and the equatorial parts where the mo- 
 ** tion is greatest, will tend less towards the centre 
 " than the rest, their endeavour to fly oft" from the 
 " axis about which they revolve, taking off part 
 "of the tendency that way, so that those parts 
 *' will become lighter than such as are nearer the 
 " poles, and the polar parts will therefore press 
 ** towards the centre. 
 
 Granting this, it seems no longer wonderful 
 
 that bodies from the north should press forward 
 
 in a southerly direction, or that Scotchmen 
 
 should leave their native homes, to wander like 
 
 J exiles in a foreign land J
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 15d 
 
 rrHrYit?^ Note II 
 
 Soon as the horse heard Gilpin wail. 
 He snorted loud and whisked his tail. 
 But when the elf was fairly on. 
 Dear, how he kicked and backwards run. P. 80. 
 
 It fs genei'ally supposed that horses, dogs, and 
 many other animals, have the faculty of seeing 
 supernatural appearances, that are invisible to 
 human beings. The following tradition relative to 
 this subject, will no doubt be acceptable to most 
 of my readers, it -is quoted at length from 
 valuable work, entitled '''Ji 
 
 * An auncient and remerkable account of the 
 
 * wonderftiUe littel Devyl, that in former daye 
 
 * tormented many good Catholicks in such w^yse, 
 
 * that they were moved to putte themselves to- 
 ' deathe, with many other straunge and incredible 
 
 ^ raarvells recounted therein, 
 
 ' Printed by Gilbei te Buntwisle in the yeare of 
 'our Lorde, 153 >. from an ould paper found 
 buried in Dame Philpot's cellar, supposed to 
 
 * have been written by the good Monke Rogero. 
 
 ' Stitched by Philip Tagwell, and sold by Gil- 
 
 * bert Buntwisle and Timothy Tenterbottora, at 
 
 * theire house in Mutton-lane, opposite the Tripe 
 *^Shop that stands neare unto the Breeches-maker
 
 100 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 * who lives up the narrow entry, next door to the 
 
 * large house with seven windows, that stands at 
 
 * the corner of Fiddle-street, as thou goest to 
 ' Hockley-in-the-HoIe.' 
 
 The story is thus related, 
 
 * A certayne Taylor, myndefulle of his belKe, 
 
 * rather than his rihh, dyd passe one neete nigh 
 
 * unto a certain place, when he hearde a verye 
 
 * dolefuUe lamentation that dyde seeme lyke unto 
 '' a chylde in great troubell, and the voice said 
 " My breeches beholde I have rended into agrete 
 " hole, and ray mammye will be sore vexed, and 
 " >vill chastyse me with a woefulle chastysemente. 
 " Oh that I hadde them agen made whole lyke 
 " unto theire former state." Now the Taylor wa 
 
 * moved with compassion for the chylde, and dyd 
 
 * speedilye take from out his garments his needles, 
 ' and his thred and lykewise all his takle, to go 
 
 * and hclpe the chylde with his breeches, butte 
 ' when he dyd turn towards the place, suddcnlye 
 ' the creepynge thynges which dyd lyve upon his 
 ' bodye, begane to byte as if with one cons<;nte, 
 ' yea most manfuUye, insomuche that he was 
 / forced to stond styll, so great vas the siparte, 
 ' butte when he stayed behold they stayed also, 
 ' aiid he a J led noughte, attbvs he wa ryghte.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTH. 161 
 
 ' sore amazed, and agen he sette forward, but 
 ' these thynges dyd in lyke manner agen tormente 
 ' him very sore, and agen he stoode styll, and 
 ' marvelled much what thys shoulde mean : now 
 
 he considered that if he so continued to go for- 
 ' ward he shoulde be bitten even unto deathe, 
 
 * withoute any gaine or protite that coulde come 
 ' therebye, therefore he would turne backe and 
 ' heede not the chylde, neither his breeches : so 
 
 he turned his face homewardes and wente on 
 
 his way. 
 
 * Nowe when he came nyghe unto his house, he 
 
 * turned in unto a certayn wyse woman, and told 
 ' her all he had hearde and felte, at thys she 
 ' lyfted up her handes and sed, " Thou hast fledde 
 " from a grete danger, for the voyce that dyd 
 " seeme lyke unto the voyce of a cryeing chylde, 
 " was the foulc littel devyle that faine would have 
 " entyced thee into some horribell pitte, or into 
 ** some noysome stewe, and would there have satte 
 " uponne thee till thou hadst been deede. Now 
 " ais a token of remembrance unto thee, and unto 
 " all thy generations after thee, shalle the creep- 
 " ynge thynges contiuuallye be uponne thee and 
 " uponne thy seede, and uponne thy brethren, 
 *' that they raaye remember the grete delyverance 
 " wherewythal thou hast been delyvered." ' And 
 
 * the Taylor deperted and went to his own home/ 
 
 X
 
 102 NOTES TO CANTO FOURTR. 
 
 Note III. 
 
 He who- received th' first broken head. 
 
 Should be pronounced vanquished. P. 88. 
 
 This was, I believe, one of the ancient laws, 
 relating to the famous game of cudgel playing, an 
 exercise now almost forgotten, as it has given 
 place to other more scientific amusements. 
 
 Why it has fallen into disrepute I camiot imagine, 
 unless the skulls worn by the present generation 
 are of so soft a texture as to be unable to bear a 
 blow, without being injured in their ma^erta/ as" 
 well as immaterial parts. 
 
 Perhaps in a short time I may be able to draw 
 up a history of this once famous amusement, 
 from some records now in the possession of a lite- 
 rary gentleman, who wishes me to undertake the 
 arduous task, and proposes to call the work, 
 " Cudgeliana, or the history of Cudgel-playing, 
 from its first institution by Shillalicum King of the 
 Wild Irish, in the beginning of the Christian Era, 
 down to the present time." It will cost me infinite 
 labour before it is completed but the value when 
 finished, will amply compensate for any trouble and 
 difficulty I may experience during its compilation ,
 
 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 Note I. 
 
 For thus was spent thut fearful day. 
 
 In revelry and joy ; 
 Which threatened once a sad affray. 
 
 And many a streaming eye. P. 95. 
 An excellent illustration of th6 uncertainty 
 and mutability of all sublunary things. 
 
 Note 11, 
 
 But if you possess a decent head. 
 You'll remember the charm which Gilpin read.--P.'9% 
 How different is this to the method made use of 
 by many of our modern |K)els, who for fear, I sup- 
 pose, any of their readers should happen to 
 possess a bad memory, take care to repeat " o'er 
 *'and o'er, and o'er and o'er again," what has 
 already been too often reiterated ; whilst our 
 fiddler fearful it seems, even of repeating once
 
 164 NOTES TO CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 again, a thing already known here leaves the bad 
 memories to shift for themselves, and judiciously 
 goes forward with his story. 
 
 Note III. 
 
 But love saw through this quaint disguise. 
 For love is often mighty wise. P. 98. 
 
 " If a mayden loveth her lover trulye," (says aa 
 ancient author) " no devyce or enchauntment 
 " whatever, that shall be putte before her eyes, 
 " shall availe." 
 
 Note IV. 
 
 And each gave way with a startled roar. 
 
 To one who from the castle door, 
 
 With speed quite naked ran. P. 101. " 
 
 Very natural for a crowd to give way under 
 these circumstances, and I remember hearing of a 
 gentleman, who, wishing to get through a large 
 concourse of people, in a case of great importance, 
 bethought him of the above method, and suc- 
 ceeded in making his way through an assembly, 
 where it would have required more than mortal 
 strength to have succeeded in any other manner.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 Note I. 
 
 Enough t' have cracked a lawyer's crown. P. 114. 
 It is, I suppose, from the many rude jolts these 
 gentlemen receive from each other, and from the 
 insensibility which they display, our poet infers 
 that their skulls must be of more than ordinary 
 thickness. 
 
 Note II. 
 
 It was a toper one Saturday night. 
 
 The fire shines bright on yon Ale-house wall. 
 And he would spend a shilling so bright. 
 
 For strong liquor will still be lord of all. P. 115. 
 This is manifestly an imitation of a song intro- 
 duced in a celebrated poem, the first verse of 
 which runs thus nm llu'l " 
 
 " It was an English Ladye bright, ' ' 
 
 The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall. 
 And she would marry a Scottish kniglt. 
 
 For Love will siiU be lord of all."
 
 166 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 I will leave the candid reader to judge which 
 of the two can lay most claim to that necessary 
 (but of late almost forgotten) ingredient, in every 
 dish of literary cookery, I mean Sense. 
 
 Note III. 
 
 He craved for admission, his wife was in bed. 
 For strong liquor was there the lord of all. P. 116. 
 
 " A drunkcnne raon (says a celebrated writer) 
 ** is an enneraie at home but a drunkenne womon 
 " is an ennemie bothe at home and abroade. 
 
 * A drunkenne moii is an ennemie to himself 
 ** but a drunkenne womon is an ennemie unto euerie 
 *' one about her." 
 
 Note IV. 
 
 His merit in the dark had lain, 
 
 And few there are who e'er will know it. P. 117. 
 This passage cannot be more strikingly illus- 
 trated than by quoting the following well kno>^ 
 lines 
 
 * Full manj^ a gem of purest ray serene, 
 
 The dark iinfathomed caves of ocean bear ; 
 Full many a flower is born to blush unseen. 
 And waste its sweetness in the desert air."
 
 NOTES TO CANTO SIXTH. 167 
 
 Note V. 
 
 Then all at once doivn the chimnej/ came. 
 
 Awful to tell soot, smoke, and flame ! P. 117. 
 
 It is a common saying that " miracles must not 
 be wasted," or that wonders are never performed 
 when the ordinary course of events will answer 
 the desired end, so in the present instance Tommy 
 very judiciously keeps in sight the old adage, and 
 instead of a fiery dragon glaring horribly upon 
 the multitude and emitting a sulphureous stench, 
 we here read only of the natural consequences re- 
 sulting from an approaching storm, causing "soot, 
 smoke, and flame" to roll down the chimney. 
 
 It would be well if many other poets instead 
 of resorting on every trivial occasion, to superna- 
 tural agency, would make a little more use of the 
 machinery by which nature is guided in her 
 operations, and not sicken our imaginations by 
 exhibiting, instead of the waking images of sober 
 reason, the puerile phantoms of a weak and dis- 
 ordered brain. 
 
 THE END-
 
 Page 88, second Hue from the bottom, far gudgel, vtad cudg?l. 
 
 T. llogerson, Priuter BlackbuiB.
 
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