Traditions of Lancashire Volume II Part 5

"Thy lord would rather his house were brent, His goods and his cattle harried, Than the cup should be broken,--that cup of grace, Or from Muncaster's house be carried."

The kinsman smiled on that fond lady, And his traitor suit he plied: "Give me the cup," the false knight said, "From these foemen fierce to hide."

The lady of Muncaster oped the box Where lay this wondrous thing; Sir William saw its beauteous form, All bright and glistering.

The kinsman smiled on that fond lady, And he viewed it o'er and o'er.

"'Tis a jewel of price," said that traitor then, "And worthy a prince's dower.

"We'll bury the treasure where ne'er from the sun One ray of gladness shone, Where darkness and light, and day and night, And summer and spring are one:

"Beneath the moat we'll bury it straight, In its box of the good oak-tree; And the cankered carle, John Highlandman, Shall never that jewel see."

The kinsman took the casket up, And the lady looked over the wall: "If thou break that cup of grace, beware, The pride of our house shall fall!"

The kinsman smiled as he looked above, And to the lady cried, "I'll show thee where thy luck shall be, And the lord of Muncaster's pride."

The lady watched this kinsman false, And he lifted the casket high: "Oh! look not so, Sir William,"

And bitterly she did cry.

But the traitor knight dashed the casket down To the ground, that blessed token; "Lie there," then said that false one now, "Proud Muncaster's charm is broken!"

The lady shrieked, the lady wailed, While the false knight fled amain: But never durst Muncaster's lord, I trow, Ope that blessed shrine again!

PART THIRD.

The knight of Muncaster went to woo, And he rode with the whirlwind's speed, For the lady was coy, and the lover was proud, And he hotly spurred his steed.

He stayed not for bog, he stayed not for briar, Nor stayed he for flood or fell; Nor ever he slackened his courser's rein, Till he stood by the Lowthers' well.

Beside that well was a castle fair, In that castle a fair lady; In that lady's breast was a heart of stone, Nor might it softened be.

"Now smooth that brow of scorn, fair maid, And to my suit give ear; There's never a dame in c.u.mberland, Such a look of scorn doth wear."

"Haste, haste thee back," the lady cried, "For a doomed man art thou; I wed not the heir of Muncaster, Thy '_Luck_' is broken now!"

"Oh say not so, for on my sire Th' unerring doom was spent; I heir not his ill-luck, I trow, Nor with his dool am shent."

"The doom is thine, as thou art his, And to his curse, the heir; But never a luckless babe of mine That fearful curse shall bear!"

A moody man was the lover then; But homeward as he hied, Beside the well at Lord Lowther's gate, An ugly dwarf he spied.

"Out of my sight, thou fearsome thing; Out of my sight, I say: Or I will fling thine ugly bones To the crows this blessed day."

But the elfin dwarf he skipped and ran Beside the lover's steed, And ever as Muncaster's lord spurred on, The dwarf held equal speed.

The lover he slackened his pace again, And to the goblin cried: "What ho, Sir Page, what luckless chance Hath buckled thee to my side?"

Up spake then first that shrivelled thing, And he shook his locks of grey: "Why lowers the cloud on Muncaster's brow, And the foam tracks his troubled way?"

"There's a lady, the fairest in all this land,"

The haughty chief replied; "But that lady's love in vain I've sought, And I'll woo none other bride."

"And is there not beauty in other lands, And locks of raven hue, That thou must pine for a maiden cold, Whose bosom love ne'er knew?"

"Oh, there is beauty in every land,"

The sorrowing knight replied; "But I'd rather Margaret of Lonsdale wed, Than the fairest dame beside."

"And thou shalt the Lady Margaret wed,"

Said that loathly dwarf again; "There's a key in Muncaster Castle can break That maiden's heart in twain!"

"Oh never, oh never, thou lying elf, That maiden's word is spoken: The cup of grace left a traitor's hand, Proud Muncaster's '_Luck_' is broken."

Then scornfully grinned that elfin dwarf, And aloud he laughed again: "There's a key in thy castle, Sir Knight, can break That maiden's heart in twain!"

The knight he turned him on his steed, And he looked over hill and stream; But he saw not that elfin dwarf again, He had vanished as a dream!

The knight came back to his castle hall, And stabled his good grey steed; And he is to his chamber gone, With wild and angry speed.

And he saw the oaken casket, where Lay hid that cup of grace, Since that fearful day, when the traitor foe Wrought ruin on his race.

"Thou cursed thing," he cried in scorn, "That ever such 'Luck' should be; From Muncaster's house, ill-boding fiend, Thou shalt vanish eternally."

He kicked the casket o'er and o'er With rage and contumely; When, lo! a tinkling sound was heard-- Down dropped a glittering key!

He remembered well the wondrous speech Of the spectre dwarf again, "There's a key in Muncaster Castle can break A maiden's heart in twain!"

He took the key, and he turned the lock, And he opened the casket wide; When the cause of all his agony The lover now espied.

The holy cup lay glistering there, And he kissed that blessed token, For its matchless form unharmed lay, The "Luck" had ne'er been broken!

The loud halls rung, and the minstrels sung, And glad rolled the Esk's bonny tide, When Lonsdale's Lady Margaret Was Muncaster's winsome bride!

Now prosper long that baron bold, And that bright and blessed token: For Muncaster's Luck is constant yet, And the crystal charm unbroken!

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE PILE OF FOULDREY[i]

_Drawn by G. Pickering._ _Engraved by Edw^d. Finden._]

THE PEEL OF FOULDREY.

"True, treason never prospers; what's the reason?

When treason prospers, 'tis no longer treason!"

The ancient castle of Peel of Fouldrey, the island of fowls, stands a little beyond the southern extremity of the isle of Walney. The castle and its site belong to the ladies of the liberty of Furness.