LightNovesOnl.com

Legends of the North; The Guidman O' Inglismill and The Fairy Bride Part 3

Legends of the North; The Guidman O' Inglismill and The Fairy Bride - LightNovelsOnl.com

You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.

The chaumer had a cozy look, an' clean;[4]

For weel she likit it sud aye be seen.

While weary time beat on wi' measured speed, Fu' mony a glance toward the knock she gied: "I wunner oor Guidman's nae frae the fair; He's past his ord'nar time four hoors an' mair.

See, Betty, la.s.s! the nicht is growin' cauld, Fesh twa-r-three peats to mak' the fire mair bauld; An' bring me tidin's o' the kin' o' nicht-- Whether it's wet or dry, or mirk or licht."

"A bonnie nicht it is on hill an' howe, The moon's just glintin' o'er the Castle knowe."

"Weel, la.s.s, I'm glad o' that," her mistress cried; An' to her task her eident hand applied.

"An' now gae to your bed, there's nocht to hinner-- Ye're sleepy like--aweel, I dinna wunner; But see ye're up wi' morn's first glint o' grey, For weel ye ken it is oor kirnin' day."

Inglis, wi' put an' row, still hauds the gait, Fairies an' witches jumblin' in his pate, Gain heels o'er head, like b.u.mbees in a byke, Sae doun he leans, sair dung, upon a d.y.k.e; Wearied wi' travel, sair he tries to think,-- But that's clean o'er him, he's sae dazed wi' drink.

"I wish I war' but at oor plantin' beltie, Or had atween my legs oor wee bit sheltie!"

Scarce had the words wun o'er his grievin' lips, Whan, raxin' oot his han's, a shelt he grips.

"Na! sic a chance!" he cries; syne, in a crack, He warstles up, an' on the creatur's back, Grips fast the mane, whan, wi' an eldritch squeel, Forrit it flees as fast as'ts legs could speel.

But nae alane; for, like birds i' the flichtir, Rade roun' an' roun', wi' muckle mirth an' lauchter, A fairy band; an', as they rade, they sang, While siller bells upo' their bridles rang.

On ilka side o' Inglis rade a knicht In Lincoln-green, wi' armour burnished bricht; Like stars intil a frosty nicht, the sheen Blinkit like siller in his dazzlet een.

Onward they rade--the knichts cried, "Forward!" still-- Till bye Ha'moss, syne up the Castlehill At fire-flaucht speed, till on the very tap They drew their reins an' aff their horses lap.

But sic a sicht as met puir Inglis een Was ne'er by mortal in this wide warld seen; The hillside, openin' oot, exposed to view Yetts made o' silver, hung on sapphires blue.

Harpers stood roun'; an', as they harped, they sung Lieds sweetly wild, but in some unco tongue; An' wee, wee ladies fair beyond compare, An' wee, wee lords in gorgeous garbs war' there.

One courteous knight, advancing from them all, Said, "Welcome, Inglis, to our Fairy Hall!

Come let us join the rest and see the sport, And pay our duty to the Queen at court Keep close by me until we pa.s.s yon den,-- There monsters entrance bar to mortal men,-- And take this ring, 'twill keep thee safe from all Can hurt or harm within our Fairy Hall.

I but repay a debt I owe to thee For leaving still unploughed upon the lea That elfin ring, where oft, in days of yore, My forebears danced, before they left this sh.o.r.e; And other kindly things that I and mine Have got from you and yours in 'auld langsyne.'

While here, ne'er eat nor drink; not for your life!

For, if ye do, ye'll ne'er see your Goodwife."

Forward they pa.s.sed, and through the entrance hall, Its roof upborne by pillars magical; A line of silver columns flas.h.i.+ng bright, And flinging back the toying gleams of light; No sun, no moon shone in the azure sky, Yet there was light o'er all, afar and nigh, Flowing from sources hid far, far beyond, Like springs outgus.h.i.+ng streams of diamond.

And there were gentle hills; and there above, Crowning their tops, was many a lovely grove Waving its leaves and branches to and fro, O'er emerald moss that cl.u.s.tering lay below.

And there were valleys carpeted with flowers; There sweet retreats and honeysuckled bowers; And lakes with wavelets playing too and fro, Waking soft music in their rippling flow.

And on their surface many a tiny sail-- Gently impelled by Zephyr's mildest gale-- Parting the elfin billows with a sheen Like opals set upon an emerald-green.

And crimson corals lined the peaceful sh.o.r.e, Disturbed by no wild surge's angry roar; Close to the brink was many an elfin home-- Bow'rs built of amber--bathed in silver foam.

And there a cataract, in elfin glee, Danced music, splas.h.i.+ng to the elfin sea; Now gently stealing, now in bursts, along The tones came warbling low or loud in song.

'Twas sweet to see the waters leaping so, Like bairns at play, that ne'er knew sin or woe.

Upon a gentle sward that lay beyond, High on a solid rock of diamond, Was placed a throne of yellow burnished gold Of rarest work the elfin art could mould; Its steps were gemmed with chrysolite and pearl, Its canopy with topazes and beryl; And on it sat the Queen, as spotless fair As new fallen snow, pure as a child of air.

Upon her brow the richly jewelled wreath Could add no beauty to the hair beneath; Those queenly tresses were of raven hue, And sparkled bright with crystal-dropping dew; While music, like a flood, broke round the throne Whereon she sat like morning star alone, Welcoming right royally each coming guest From far or near, from south, north, east, or west.

To cheer the guests with music and with song, With harp and pipe, the elfin minstrels throng.

The harpers sat--waiting the royal glance.

_That_, smiling given, the bardic chiefs advance Sweeping the chords--the wires responsive rung-- And in harmonious concert thus they sung:--

"Come where the bright star of even is beaming; Come where the moonlight o'er valley and hill, O'er castle and cot in golden flakes streaming, s.h.i.+mmers on lake and leaf--glints on the rill.

Ever light, ever free, Gay let our spirits be, Roaming by burn and lea--roaming at will.

"Come where the mavis sings sweetest at gloamin'; Come where the woods wi' the wee birdies ring; Come to the hill where the wild bee is roamin'; Come where the bonnie flow'rs bonniest spring; Come to the trystin' tree, Ever gay, ever free, Sing our old songs with glee--cheerily sing.

"Come where the burn splashes down frae the mountain; Come where the hazel nuts hang on the tree; Come to the dell wi' its clear s.h.i.+ning fountain, Where lilies are listenin' the pipe o' the bee There, by the whisp'ring stream, Where the trouts golden gleam, Tell that old tale--that brings joy to the ee.

"Come where Spring's bridal chimes blue bells are ringing; Come where the yellow broom blooms on the brae; Come where the lintie his love-sang is singing, And wee birdies courtin' on ilka green spray.

Joyously let us sing, Love awakes wi' the Spring, Merrily let us roam--come, come away."

The trumpets sound; an' at the Queen's comman'

Rade forth o' knights an' lords a gallant ban'; Squadron on squadron pressed in close review, Their presence markin' their allegiance true; Ilk gallant tried, as gently ridin' bye, To catch one meltin' glance frae one loved eye.

An' then cam' racin', playin' at the ba', An' arrow-shootin' at the waponschaw; Some danced in glee--but nae quadrilles frae France, But just the guid auld reel an' country dance-- An' mony anither pastime, whilk to tell Wad weary even Davie Lindsay's sell'.

An' noo the Queen an' ilk attendin' lord Tak' up their places at the festive board.

Amang the crowd, oor Inglis an' the knicht Set themsel's doun, yet geylies oot o' sicht; But a' the marvels that afore he'd seen War' nocht to what noo met his dazzled een: Dishes of gold, the drinking cups of gems, And flowers of brilliant hues on slender stems, Shedding delicious fragrance over all, Blending their odours through the banquet hall; While softest music, as if borne on wings, Stole round and round in low, sweet whisperings.

Again the trumpets sound; the heralds call, "The Queen a kindly welcome drinks to all!"

In meet response, the wine-cups soon are seen Raised to the toast, "Her Majesty the Queen."

Cheer follows cheer through all the elfin ranks; Right graciously she bows and smiles her thanks.

'Mid sic excitin' scenes, Inglis amaist Forgat the frien'ly warnin' nae to taste; An' raxin' oot his han', the wine-cup took, But just in time was warnised by a look-- An' sic a look! it gealed his very heart, An' pierced him thro' an' thro' as wi' a dart-- Upon a pedestal was placed upright A weird-like form,--as if to hide from sight, O'erstrewn with leaves,--and, draped in gory red, It seemed the statue of some monster dread; Around its head were tendrils of the vine; To bind this chaplet two pale snakes entwine.

Silent and stern, in death-like rest it sate, Waiting its certain prey from time or fate; Nor life, nor motion did it show,--until The call went forth the goblets all to fill, Then, lifting up its head, it glared around, As if rejoicing in the welcome sound.

All suddenly it seemed to spring to life, As if to handle drink betokened strife; Its eyes flashed vividly, it grimly smiled To see poor Inglis thus almost beguiled.-- As thus its figure burst upon his view, Inglis knew well _who_ waited for his due-- Sae saftly settin' doun the cup in fear He stole a cautious glance to those war' near.

"Why don't you drink the toast?" his neebours cry.

Quo Inglis, "Sirs, I'm nae just byous dry."

"Treason! vile treason!" roars an elfin carl; "Here's a base mortal from the outer warl'!"

Syne sic a rippet raise! sic yells an' cries!

While rage flashed furious in the elfin eyes, Some rinnin' here, some there, whiles some pell-mell, Roared oot wi' glee, "He'll pay our Kain to h.e.l.l."

"Wae's me!" thocht Inglis, "I'll be en'it noo; This comes o' gain frae hame an' getting fou."

Wi' that his frien', the knicht, spak' up an cried, "Silence! the Queen shall this affair decide."

Strauchtway they harle him 'fore the royal chair An' place him, like a culprit, tremblin' there.

Her Majesty exclaims, "How came _you_ here?"

Quo Inglis, "Gracious Queen, I'm vera seer It wasna wi' my wull; an', gin ye'll tak'

My honest word for't, I sall ne'er come back;"

An' syne he tauld her a', baith c.r.a.p an' root, That drink was just the cause o't, oot an' oot.

"Well! all that may be true," the Queen replies; "I fear you hear your doom in these wild cries."

"Nae doubt," quo Inglis, "sair eneuch's my case, Unless I pity get at your sweet face.

It's nae just for mysel' I beg my life, But for _her_ sake at hame--my dear Guidwife."

And syne the knicht spak' oot, "My Gracious Queen, This culprit and his forebears all have been Neighbours to us and ours for many a day, And aye were kindly, and ne'er wrought us wae; His pardon thus I crave upon my knee."

"Rise, sir; 'tis granted; but thus shall it be: If e'er again he cheat his leal Goodwife, And with such cantrips plague her very life; Or with such spates of drink he daze himsel', Some day he's sure to pay our Kain to h.e.l.l."

All instant changed; but how, he never kenn'd.

Whaur was he? Paumerin' at his ain hoose-end.-- Frae that day forth a wiser man, atweel!

An' did his very best to cheat the Deil.

THE FAIRY BRIDE.

THE ROMANCE OF THE FAIRY BRIDE.

The Peris of Eastern romance are most likely the source from which sprang the tales of romantic fancy with which our legendary lore abounds.

In the enunciation of the Arabic language the word "Peri" would sound "Fairy," the letter P not occurring in its alphabet, and would be so p.r.o.nounced by the Crusaders in their early intercourse with the Arabs.

In the wreck of Gothic mythology consequent on the introduction of Christianity, the amiable characteristics of the Peris or Fairies became degraded amid the mischievous attributes ascribed to subordinate spirits, more unamiable in their persons and practices, yet more congenial to the habits of thought of the northern peoples.

In Eastern tales, however vaguely they are described, the females are uniformly represented as beings of great beauty, amiability, and beneficence--the fairest creatures of romantic fancy.

Click Like and comment to support us!

RECENTLY UPDATED NOVELS

About Legends of the North; The Guidman O' Inglismill and The Fairy Bride Part 3 novel

You're reading Legends of the North; The Guidman O' Inglismill and The Fairy Bride by Author(s): Patrick Buchan. This novel has been translated and updated at LightNovelsOnl.com and has already 670 views. And it would be great if you choose to read and follow your favorite novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest novels, a novel list updates everyday and free. LightNovelsOnl.com is a very smart website for reading novels online, friendly on mobile. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at [email protected] or just simply leave your comment so we'll know how to make you happy.