Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume XIV Part 4

"Well, Ramorgny," cried the prince, as he met the knight in the audience-chamber of the palace, "what progress hast thou made in the south? Thy tarrying indicates enjoyment; for when did Ramorgny wait, when there was not something to afford him pleasure and amus.e.m.e.nt?"

"Your grace is right," answered Ramorgny. "The pleasures of March's castle are indeed intoxicating. But thou it was who didst send me in the way of temptation; and if Elizabeth of Dunbar has, by her enchantment, drawn largely on the time of thy commissioner, thou hast thyself to blame. Lord Salisbury, thou knowest, said that her predecessor's love-shafts--meaning the arrows she sent from the old castle walls--went straight to the heart; and, as the lieutenant of this kingdom, and the protector of its subjects, it was thy duty to guard me against a power which seems to be hereditary in the family of March."

"Oh, then, Black Bess is fair, after all!" cried the duke. "Give me thy hand. I am right glad on't; for I thought I had no choice--the one being fair, the other ugly; and to have been forced to marry one woman, to the exclusion of the darling liberty of selection, would, though she had been as fair as Venus, have made her like the famed daughter of Ph.o.r.eus, whose face was as beautiful as that of the sister of Apollo, but whose hair was writhing serpents."

"Thy choice, I fear, is not extended by the beauty of Elizabeth of Dunbar," said Ramorgny; "for what she has, Elizabeth Douglas wants.

March's daughter is a dark beauty, but her colour is not derived from the dingy hues of earth; it owes a higher origin, even the beams of the son of Latona himself. Yet the jet eyes from which she sends her hereditary love-shafts are the softest engines of death I have ever witnessed. The fire she steals from heaven comes from her as it does from her cognate thief, Phoebe, as soft as moonbeams. Her gentleness is that of the lamb, and the tones of her voice are like the soft strains that come from an AEolian harp, making the heart chase them as they steal away into death-like silence."

"Bravo!" cried the prince--"a right good wench. I have ever admired softness in a woman; and I still maintain that there is the same natural fitness in that ordination, as existeth in the connection between heat and fire, light and flame, mirth and life, darkness and death! What sayest thou now to the other Bess?"

"Hast thou ever read of Omphale," replied the knight, "who took from Hercules his club, and gave him a spindle, and when he complained, chastised him with her slipper? It was well for the hero that he did not live in Scotland in these days, when brogues, filled with nails, cover the soft feet of some of our damsels. Elizabeth Douglas would certainly imitate Omphale; but, I fear, her slipper would be a brogue; and she farther differeth from her, in being as ugly as she was fair. She seemeth to me to be a limb of the devil, which, in its hurry to escape from the region of fire and brimstone, carried along with it some of these elements of wrath, of which, I doubt not, she would make good use, if a husband dared to say to her nay, in place of yea. Thou hast said that thou lovest softness in woman; but I have heard thee say, in thy mad freaks--wherein, doubtless, reason had no part--that thou wouldst rejoice in an opportunity of taming a shrew. Truly, thy wish, at least to the extent of making an attempt, may be gratified by marrying Bess Douglas; but I would rede thee to consider, that she might tame _thee_.

Dost thou observe the difference there? Ha! the n.o.ble and high-spirited Rothsay pinned, like a silken nose-cloth, to the skirt of the linsey-woolsey tunic of a modern Xantippe!"

"Never fear, Ramorgny," cried the duke, impatiently; "thy efforts in my behalf will save me this degradation. I am obliged to thee for thy warning, and would repay thee, according to the measure of my grat.i.tude and thy desert, by recommending to thee as a wife Elizabeth Douglas, while I will wed her of Dunbar."

The art by which Ramorgny thus sustained, apparently with good-humour, his conversations with the duke regarding subjects which lay very near his heart, and invested with serious import, was one of his cleverest but most deceitful qualities. The duke himself treated everything lightly; the unrestrainable buoyancy of his mind cast off with resilient power everything which partook of a sombre character; but Ramorgny was naturally dark, gloomy, and thoughtful; and his efforts at frolic, successful as they were, were resorted to only as a means to accomplish an end. In the present instance, he was necessitated, notwithstanding the intensity of his pa.s.sion, his vexation, and disappointment, to keep up his old manner; for, where truth was generally arrayed in the trappings of frivolity, deceit might have been suspected in an appearance of sincerity.

Fortunately, however, the prince was not left altogether to the advice of Ramorgny; but such is the fate of princes--he got counsel otherwise, only in the suspicions he entertained of an enemy, his uncle Albany.

Having heard that he wished him to marry Elizabeth Douglas, and to accompany him to Douglas Castle to see the lady on a certain day, the prince, to escape the importunities of his uncle, and to gall him--a pastime in which he took some pleasure--rode off precipitately to March's castle, to enjoy the society of Elizabeth, in whom he expected to find all the qualities described by his friend, who enjoyed his absolute confidence.

When Rothsay arrived at the castle of March, the earl was on the eve of setting out for Linlithgow, for the purpose of seeing him. The behaviour of Elizabeth in presence of Ramorgny had filled March with solicitude as to the issue of the projected match; and he wished to counteract, as far as possible, the accounts which the favourite would, in all likelihood, give of his self-willed daughter. On seeing the prince, he began to entertain hopes that Ramorgny's account was not so unfavourable as he suspected; but his surprise may be imagined, when, in a short conversation he had with the prince previous to his introduction to the ladies, he ascertained that Ramorgny's eulogistic description of Elizabeth had filled him with an irresistible desire to see so beautiful and gentle a creature. March looked askance at the prince, conceiving that he was making him and his family the subject of an ill-timed frolic; but he saw nothing in the face of the prince but the gravest sincerity that his versatile temperament could exhibit. It is not difficult to make doubtful facts quadrate with wishes; and March soon became satisfied that the prince had received a favourable account, and was deeply impressed with a sense of the beauty and merits of his daughter. He immediately introduced him to Elizabeth, according to the request of the prince; but it was not until he had got a gentle hint, that he showed any inclination to leave them together--a piece of etiquette reckoned due to a lover who had been proposed as the husband of his daughter.

Pleased with the dark beauty, though unable to observe in her eye the Cynthian beam so elaborately described by Ramorgny, the prince approached the damsel, and, with that air of gallantry for which he was so remarkable, fell at her feet, and, seizing her hand, said, in one of his sweetest accents--

"I know not, gentle damsel, whether I have any authority thus to sue for a slight indication of thy favour; but what may be refused by thy goodness to a lover not yet permitted to approach thee with confidence, may perhaps be granted to the lieutenant of the king. The triumphs of beauty are best celebrated by favour; and condescension, which is the prettiest foil of excellence, is exhibited to the kneeling knight, by extending a hand to grace the act of his rising to receive it."

"Thou mayst e'en rise how and when thou wilt," replied Elizabeth, s.n.a.t.c.hing from him her hand; "or thou mayst kneel there till brown Marion of Leghorn or Jean Lindsay of Rossie comes to help thee up. I care no more for a general lover than I do for a general lieutenant. The only difference I see between them is, that the one hath many female slaves, and the other many male ones. By the soul of Black Agnes, I shall love no man who loveth more than one woman!"

This speech soon raised the prince to his feet. He stared at the damsel, doubtful if she was serious, or if he had his senses. Her seriousness was clear enough; for she finished her speech by a stamp of her foot and a clenching of the hand, suitable accompaniments of a female's oath.

"Art thou Elizabeth of Dunbar, the gentle daughter of the Earl of March?" said the prince, hesitatingly.

"They say so," replied Elizabeth: "and it is to that reputation I owe a prince's visit. I was born shortly after the sacking of Roxburgh by my father; and, if I have any reputation for being gentle, as thou termest me, it may be owing to my birth having followed so close upon that famous occasion, on which mothers mourned the murder of their children, and children hung at the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of their dying or dead mothers. There is none of these things in our days: the world gets effeminate; and, in place of women defending castles, and wiping the dust from the battlements with their white handkerchiefs, as my ancestor did at Dunbar, they teach the arts of spinning and knitting to the men, who, with the Prince of Scotland at their head, vie with each other in the softness of their skin and the smoothness of their speeches. How would Black Agnes have answered to the speech thou didst now address to her descendant, thinkest thou?"

"Very likely," replied the prince, "in the way in which she answered the English who attacked her castle, or perhaps in the gentle way in which thou hast done."

"Would that all men-spinsters were answered in the same way!" rejoined Elizabeth. "But I would make a distinction: to men who have the boldness to court women as they would attack a castle, I would speak softly; but to the white-lipped simperers of smooth sayings, who attack the heart with a tempest of sighs, and sap its foundations with floods of tears, I would open the sally-port of my indignation, and kill them with a look."

"Then, I suppose," said the prince, "I owe my life to thy ladys.h.i.+p's mercy, extended by way of tender exception to my individual case?"

"Say rather that thou owest it to my contempt," replied Elizabeth. "Thou hast not yet experienced one of my looks. I have treated thee tenderly because of the love I bear to Queen Arabella, thy mother, to whom I would beg leave to commit thee for a farther supply of that milk-and-breadberry, of which, as thy sallow cheeks indicate, thou hast been cheated in thy infancy. Do not object that thou art too old; for thy present condition is but an extension of childhood--even now I have heard thy rattle."

"Women are privileged," replied the prince, losing temper.

"So are children," rejoined Elizabeth, smartly; "when thou hast arrived at manhood, thou mayest then claim my indignation; meantime I recommend thee to the queen."

And, saying this, she left the astonished prince standing in the chamber like a statue. Recovering himself, he left the castle precipitately, without seeing the earl, biting his lips, and muttering curses against Ramorgny, who had deceived him, and Elizabeth, who had insulted him. As he proceeded on his way homewards, he bethought himself of the different characters Ramorgny gave the two ladies; and wis.h.i.+ng to give him credit for having confounded the attributes applicable to each, he resolved to see Elizabeth Douglas; and, changing his course, proceeded in the direction of Castle Douglas.

His arrival at the residence of the old earl, who had contributed to place his family on the throne, brought into the mind of the prince some recollections which evolved feelings which were deeply planted in his nature, and only prevented from producing useful and amiable effects, by lawless habits borrowed from dissolute companions. With his mind elevated by n.o.ble aspirations, and high hopes of being one day an ornament to his country, which he sincerely loved, he was in an excellent mood for appreciating the virtues and beauty of a woman who could, as a consort, make him a better and a happier man, and, by a necessary consequence, a better governor, and subsequently a good king.

He met Elizabeth Douglas at a distance from the castle, and introducing himself in the easy and elegant manner of which no man of his time was more capable, was delighted with her conversation, and inspired by her personal charms. Proceeding together to the castle, they were met at the gate by the old earl, who complimented Rothsay, as well as his daughter, by saying that all he had sighed for was that they should meet and be able to appreciate each other's qualities; for he was a.s.sured that one hour's conversation between persons so accomplished, actuated by such motives, and inspired with such sentiments, would do more to procure an attachment than a year's diplomacy and court intrigue.

Rothsay willingly remained for some time at the castle, and had frequent opportunities of conversing with Elizabeth alone, and of appreciating her n.o.ble qualities.

"I had got thee misrepresented to me," said the prince; "but I believe unintentionally, and by a transposition of names. What would Elizabeth Douglas think, if she were informed that she was likened to the wife of Socrates, and the slipper-castigator of Hercules?"

"I should conceive that the reporter did not know me," answered Elizabeth, "or wished to deceive. I am not an admirer of either of these ladies, of whom I have before heard; but I plume not myself upon any other quality than a wish to use my wealth and station for the benefit of those who, though better and holier than I am, have, by the force of dire necessity, been obliged to bow their necks under the yoke of poverty and misfortune. Yet I fear all I can take credit for is a wish to do good. My actions and my aspirations have not that accordance I could wish; but, by the blessing of G.o.d, I hope to improve in my self-discipline; and, in the meantime, I trust no one will be able to accuse me of injuring the humblest of G.o.d's creatures."

"How seldom do these sentiments reach the ears of royalty," said Rothsay, whose heart swelled with his genuine sentiments, long concealed, "and especially from the lips of n.o.bility! Yet, pleasant as it is to contemplate goodness in mortals born of sin, it is difficult to estimate the extent of the influence of generous sympathy when it is found in the bosom of beauty. Do not pain me by saying I flatter thee.

At present I am not the gay son of King Robert; but by the wand of enchantment changed for a season--would it were for ever!--into a sober reasoner on the rights and claims of suffering humanity."

"Report hath not belied thee, good prince, though it hath me; for I have ever heard that thy sentiments were generous--though, excuse my boldness, they were not allowed to be called forth into action by the scenes of common life. Believe a simple maiden, when she taketh the liberty humbly to suggest, that royalty itself may be more enn.o.bled by one act of charity than by a glorious victory."

"Sweet maiden," cried the prince, seizing rapturously her hands, "thou shalt be my counsellor. Thy sentiments shall be enforced by thy beauty, and my heart and my exchequer be equally under the power of thy generous feelings."

By such conversations, Rothsay gained an insight into the heart of his mistress. He recurred frequently to the report of Ramorgny, and hinted to the earl that he had found his daughter the very reverse of what she had been represented to him. The earl paid particular attention to the hint, and seemed inclined to insinuate that Ramorgny might have had some cause to misrepresent Elizabeth. The duke, having proceeded so far, felt his curiosity excited to get an explanation of the earl's remark; and, upon further question, ascertained that, according to the earl's opinion, which had been corroborated by his daughter, Ramorgny had been inspired with a strong pa.s.sion for Elizabeth, which showed itself in various forms, and was the cause of his protracted stay at the castle.

This discovery changed, in a great measure, all the prince's feelings towards his old friend. He had thus convicted him of deception, practised with a view to his injury, and for the purpose of gratifying a pa.s.sion cherished for the intended wife of his friend and his prince.

Amidst all their departures from the rules of sober life, the prince had never himself been guilty, or patronised in his friend, any breach of truth and good faith; and this was the first occasion on which this great cementing principle of mankind had been sacrificed to private interest. Seriously, however, as he felt it, he resolved upon stating it to Ramorgny in such a way as might not produce his enmity; for he had seen enough of him, to be satisfied that he was more capable of forming a worse enemy than he was of becoming a true friend.

While the prince had thus been engaged in the south, Ramorgny had been in the north, enjoying his favourite pastime of hunting the red deer among the hills surrounding the water of Islay. The friends arrived in Edinburgh about the same time, ignorant of each other's motions--Ramorgny still labouring under the effect of the pa.s.sion with which Elizabeth Douglas had inspired him, and for a partial relief from whose engrossing influence he had gone to the hills; and the duke smarting under the pain of a breach of confidence and friends.h.i.+p in one on whom he had so long placed his affections, and bestowed many favours.

"The hills of Scotland," said Ramorgny, "are exquisite renovators of a town-worn const.i.tution. The roes of the Highlands supply the strength which has been wasted on the town hinds. Thou hadst better have been with me, exerting the powers of a master over the inhabitants of the forest, than stooping to the counsel of that grave batch of seniors appointed to advise with thee--that is, to dictate to thee--on the affairs of the state. Believe me, prince, thou shouldst cas.h.i.+er these greybeards. Thy own judgment, aided by mine, is quite sufficient to enable thee to govern this small barbarous kingdom."

"Thy advice," replied the prince, smiling, with some indication of satire, "if followed, by rejecting the counsel of my const.i.tuted advisers, would be an advice to reject advice contrary to thy advice; for my council recommend me to marry Elizabeth Douglas, and to reject the March. Dost thou think that any of the greybeards--Albany is too ambitious to marry again--have any private intentions on Bess of Dunbar.

If I thought that, I would reject the Douglas, and betake myself to the March."

"And thou wouldst act sagely in so doing," replied Ramorgny, who did not yet see the prince's satire. "If any one of these counsellors act from such a motive--and I am not sure of Arran--he ought to lose his mistress and his head at the same time."

"Sayest thou so, Ramorgny?" replied the prince. "Is it thy heart that so speaketh, or thy judgment? Thou hast recommended me to the March, whom I have seen and conversed with, and well know, and hast endeavoured to terrify me from the Douglas, whom I have also seen, and can well appreciate. Art thou quite sure thy advice is purer, sounder, truer, and wiser, than that of my council?"

This question produced an evident effect upon Ramorgny. He endeavoured to escape the prince's eye; but he found that no easy matter. Rothsay kept looking at him intensely, and plainly showed that he was master of the secret purpose for which he had endeavoured to precipitate him into a connection that would have made him miserable for life. It was now, however, too late for Ramorgny to retreat; and, boldly facing his danger, he replied--

"Thy question carries with it more than meets the ear. If I depreciated Elizabeth Douglas, and overrated Elizabeth Dunbar, a spirit of liberal construction would give me credit for having been myself deceived."

"Stop!" said the prince, interrupting him. "I did not say that thou didst depreciate the one and overrate the other. Why take guilt to thyself?"

"By St Duthos," cried Ramorgny, who now saw he was caught, and resolved upon another tack, "it is time now to be grave! Will that cursed spirit of devilish frolic which I learned from thee cling to me, even after the dreadful apparition of the first grey hair, which this morning appeared to me in my gla.s.s? But thou art thyself to blame. A master of mirth thyself--the prime minister of Momus, as well as of King Robert, and my professor in the science of fun--wert thou unable to discover, in my outrageous and elaborate description of the two damsels, the traces of the pencil--for Momus could paint--of the laughing G.o.d? If thou wert not, didst thou not deserve the harmless deception? Say, now, good prince, condemn, if thou darest, thy scholar of a proficiency which thou hast taught. Struck by thy own sword of lath, wilt thou amputate the offending hand? Say, and if thou wilt, strike. A philosopher would laugh--what shall the merry-making Rothsay do?"

The bold, das.h.i.+ng, laughing manner in which Ramorgny delivered this speech, joined to a recollection of the high-flown and not serious account he had given of the two damsels, drove out of the duke's mind the suspicions roused by the communications of Earl Douglas, and with it his anger. The boisterous good-humour of his friend carried him along with him; and, answering the knight in his own way, he cried--

"Why, laugh too, perhaps, good Ramorgny. Thou hast certainly defeated me in the first instance, but I have conquered thee in the second. I found in the women what thou hast described them; only I was obliged to subst.i.tute the name of Elizabeth Douglas for Bess of Dunbar. That descendant of old Agnes is most certainly the devil, or at least his viceregent. What dost thou think she recommended to me, to increase the powers of my manhood? Why, milk and panado! The only woman, she thought, I would be safe in the keeping of was my mother Arabella; the age, of which she considered me a fair example, had retrograded from the days of the sacking of Roxburgh by her father, into a state of mature infancy; and as for our talents for war, she would scarcely allow us the mighty power of infanticide. In short, thy description of Elizabeth Douglas applied to her; and, when I say that thy description of her applied to the other, why should I say that I was charmed with the fair Douglas?

Thou hast painted better than I can. She must be my wife; and I am glad that my council, my mother, and myself, thus agree on a point which they believe concerns the nation, but which I opine concerns only myself."

Ramorgny was at the moment well pleased to perceive that he had thus got out of the sc.r.a.pe; but to have his snare twisted round his own limbs--to have his description of his own lover adopted by a rival, in describing her perfections, and thus to have, in a manner, precipitated his own ruin--for he could not survive the marriage of Elizabeth Douglas with another--touched him, as an accomplished intriguer, on the tenderest parts of his nature. A second time deprived of the object of his affections by his own disciple in the art of love, he determined that, at least, there should never be a third opportunity for inflicting upon him such degradation. His revenge deepened, but his smiles and apparent good-humour quadrated with the increased necessity of concealing his designs. These and their fatal issue are unfortunately but too well known.

Untold to Rothsay, certain schemes had, in the meantime, been in agitation between the Earl of March and a party at court, the object of which was to get a match brought about between Rothsay and Elizabeth of Dunbar. These, for a time, wrought so favourably, that March, who never knew what had taken place between Rothsay and his daughter, entertained the strongest hopes of success. He had offered an immense dowry, which the great extent of his estates near the Borders enabled him to pay, as the price of the connection with royalty; and it would seem that he had received from head-quarters strong pledges that his wishes would be gratified. Ramorgny secretly joined the March party; but all their endeavours could not prevent the final triumph of the Douglas, who had also offered a large sum with his daughter, and who was, besides, backed by the queen, and by the secret wishes of Rothsay himself.

The nuptials of the prince with Elizabeth Douglas were celebrated with great rejoicings at Edinburgh. They were graced by the presence of the king and the queen, and all the princ.i.p.al n.o.bility of the land. Among the rest were to be seen two persons destined to supply afterwards the materials of an extraordinary chapter in the history of Scotland; the shadows of which, if presentiment had thrown them before, would have wrapped the gay scene of the marriage in the gloomy mantle of the dismal Atropos. The first of these was Rothsay's uncle Albany, who, ever since he was displaced from his governors.h.i.+p by the faction who awarded to the young prince the lieutenantcy of the kingdom, had prayed fervently for the death of the royal stripling, that had, with precocious audacity, dared to compete with disciplined age in the management of the affairs of the kingdom. The other was Ramorgny, who appeared at the celebration of the nuptials, dressed in the gayest style, and wearing on his lips the fallacious smile of the treacherous courtier, while his heart was filled with rage and jealousy, and his fancy teemed with schemes of deadly revenge. The picture, to one who could have seen into futurity, would have presented the extraordinary foreground of an apparent universal joy, filling all hearts and making all glad; and, close behind, the grinning furies of revenge writhing in their agonies of a wild desire to break in upon the unconscious victims, and spread death and desolation where pleasure was alone to be found.