by Walter Scott
Chapter the Twentieth.
I hope you'll give me cause to think you noble. And do me right with your sword, sir, as becomes One gentleman of honour to another;
All this is fair, sir--let us make no days on't, I'll lead your way.
LOVE'S PILGRIMAGE.
The look and sign of warning which the Sub-Prior gave to HalbertGlendinning as they parted, went to his heart; for although he hadprofited much less than Edward by the good man's instructions, he hada sincere reverence for his person; and even the short time he had fordeliberation tended to show him he was embarked in a perilous adventure.The nature of the provocation which he had given to Sir Piercie Shaftonhe could not even conjecture; but he saw that it was of a mortalquality, and he was now to abide the consequences.
That he might not force these consequences forward by any prematurerenewal of their quarrel, he resolved to walk apart for an hour, andconsider on what terms he was to meet this haughty foreigner. The timeseemed propitious for his doing so without having the appearanceof wilfully shunning the stranger, as all the members of the littlehousehold were dispersing either to perform such tasks as had beeninterrupted by the arrival of the dignitaries, or to put in order whathad been deranged by their visit.
Leaving the tower, therefore, and descending, unobserved as he thought,the knoll on which it stood, Halbert gained the little piece of levelground which extended betwixt the descent of the hill, and the firstsweep made by the brook after washing the foot of the eminence on whichthe tower was situated, where a few straggling birch and oak-treesserved to secure him from observation. But scarcely had he reached thespot, when he was surprised to feel a smart tap upon the shoulder, and,turning around, he perceived he had been closely followed by SirPiercie Shafton. When, whether from our state of animal spirits, wantof confidence in the justice of our cause, or any other motive, our owncourage happens to be in a wavering condition, nothing tends so muchaltogether to disconcert us, as a great appearance of promptitude onthe part of our antagonist. Halbert Glendinning, both morally andconstitutionally intrepid, was nevertheless somewhat troubled at seeingthe stranger, whose resentment he had provoked, appear at once beforehim, and with an aspect which boded hostility. But though his heartmight beat somewhat thicker, he was too high-spirited to exhibit anyexternal signs of emotion.--"What is your pleasure, Sir Piercie?" hesaid to the English knight, enduring without apparent discomposure allthe terrors which his antagonist had summoned into his aspect.
"What is my pleasure!" answered Sir Piercie; "a goodly questionafter the part you have acted towards me!--Young man, I know notwhat infatuation has led thee to place thyself in direct and insolentopposition to one who is a guest of thy liege-lord the Abbot, and who,even from the courtesy due to thy mother's roof, had a right to remainthere without meeting insult. Neither do I ask, or care, by what meansthou hast become possessed of the fatal secret by which thou hast daredto offer me open shame. But I must now tell thee, that the possession ofit has cost thee thy life."
"Not, I trust, if my hand and sword can defend it," replied Halbert,boldly.
"True," said the Englishman, "I mean not to deprive thee of thy fairchance of self-defence. I am only sorry to think, that, young andcountry-bred as thou art, it can but little avail thee. But thou must bewell aware, that in this quarrel I shall use no terms of quarter."
"Rely on it, proud man," answered the youth, "that I shall ask none; andalthough thou speakest as if I lay already at thy feet, trust me,that as I am determined never to ask thy mercy, so I am not fearful ofneeding it."
"Thou wilt, then," said the knight, "do nothing to avert the certainfate which thou hast provoked with such wantonness?"
"And how were that to be purchased?" replied Halbert Glendinning, morewith the wish of obtaining some farther insight into the terms on whichhe stood with this stranger, than to make him the submission which hemight require.
"Explain to me instantly," said Sir Piercie, "without equivocation ordelay, by what means thou wert enabled to wound my honour so deeply--andshouldst thou point out to me by so doing an enemy more worthy of myresentment, I will permit thine own obscure insignificance to draw aveil over thine insolence."
"This is too high a flight," said Glendinning, fiercely, "for thine ownpresumption to soar without being checked. Thou hast come to my father'shouse, as well as I can guess, a fugitive and an exile, and thy firstgreeting to its inhabitants has been that of contempt and injury. Bywhat means I have been able to retort that contempt, let thine ownconscience tell thee. Enough for me that I stand on the privilege ofa free Scotchman, and will brook no insult unreturned, and no injuryunrequited."
"It is well, then," said Sir Piercie Shafton; "we will dispute thismatter to-morrow morning with our swords. Let the time be daybreak, anddo thou assign the place. We will go forth as if to strike a deer."
"Content," replied Halbert Glendinning: "I will guide thee to aspot where an hundred men might fight and fall without any chance ofinterruption."
"It is well," answered Sir Piercie Shafton. "Here then we part.--Manywill say, that in thus indulging the right of a gentleman to the son ofa clod-breaking peasant, I derogate from my sphere, even as the blessedsun would derogate should he condescend to compare and match his goldenbeams with the twinkle of a pale, blinking, expiring, gross-fed taper.But no consideration of rank shall prevent my avenging the insult thouhast offered me. We bear a smooth face, observe me, Sir Villagio, beforethe worshipful inmates of yonder cabin, and to-morrow we try conclusionswith our swords." So saying, he turned away towards the tower.
It may not be unworthy of notice, that in the last speech only, had SirPiercie used some of those flowers of rhetoric which characterized theusual style of his conversation. Apparently, a sense of wounded honour,and the deep desire of vindicating his injured feelings, had proved toostrong for the fantastic affectation of his acquired habits. Indeed,such is usually the influence of energy of mind, when called forth andexerted, that Sir Piercie Shafton had never appeared in the eyes of hisyouthful antagonist half so much deserving of esteem and respect asin this brief dialogue, by which they exchanged mutual defiance. As hefollowed him slowly to the tower, he could not help thinking to himself,that, had the English knight always displayed this superior tone ofbearing and feeling, he would not probably have felt so earnestlydisposed to take offence at his hand. Mortal offence, however, had beenexchanged, and the matter was to be put to mortal arbitrement.
The family met at the evening meal, when Sir Piercie Shafton extendedthe benignity of his countenance and the graces of his conversation farmore generally over the party than he had hitherto condescended to do.The greater part of his attention was, of course, still engrossed byhis divine inimitable Discretion, as he chose to term Mary Avenel; but,nevertheless there were interjectional flourishes to the Maid of theMill, under the title of Comely Damsel, and to the Dame, under that ofWorthy Matron. Nay, lest he should fail to excite their admiration bythe graces of his rhetoric, he generously, and without solicitation,added those of his voice; and after regretting bitterly the absence ofhis viol-de-gamba, he regaled them with a song, "which," said he, "theinimitable Astrophel, whom mortals call Philip Sidney, composed in thenonage of his muse, to show the world what they are to expect fromhis riper years, and which will one day see the light in thatnot-to-be-paralleled perfection of human wit, which he has addressedto his sister, the matchless Parthenope, whom men call Countess ofPembroke; a work," he continued, "whereof his friendship hath permittedme, though unworthy, to be an occasional partaker, and whereof I maywell say, that the deep afflictive tale which awakeneth our sorrows, isso relieved with brilliant similitudes, dulcet descriptions, pleasantpoems, and engaging interludes, that they seem as the stars of thefirmament, beautifying the dusky robe of night. And though I wot wellhow much the lovely and quaint language will suffer by my widowed voice,widowed in that it is no longer matched by my beloved viol-de-gamba, Iwill essay to give you a taste of the ravishing sweetness of the poesyof the u
n-to-be-imitated Astrophel."
So saying, he sung without mercy or remorse about five hundred verses,of which the two first and the four last may suffice for a specimen--
"What tongue can her perfections tell, On whose each part all pens may dwell.
Of whose high praise arid praiseful bliss, Goodness the pen. Heaven paper is; The ink immortal fame doth send, As I began so I must end."
As Sir Piercie Shafton always sung with his eyes half shut, it was notuntil, agreeably to the promise of poetry, he had fairly made an end,that looking round, he discovered that the greater part of his audiencehad, in the meanwhile, yielded to the charms of repose. Mary Avenel,indeed, from a natural sense of politeness, had contrived to keep awakethrough all the perplexities of the divine Astrophel; but Mysie wastransported in dreams back to the dusty atmosphere of her father's mill.Edward himself, who had given his attention for some time, had at lengthfallen fast asleep; and the good dame's nose, could its tones havebeen put in regulation, might have supplied the bass of the lamentedviol-de-gamba. Halbert, however, who had no temptation to give wayto the charms of slumber, remained awake with his eyes fixed on thesongster; not that he was better entertained with the words, or moreravished with the execution, than the rest of the company, but ratherbecause he admired, or perhaps envied, the composure, which could thusspend the evening in interminable madrigals, when the next morning wasto be devoted to deadly combat. Yet it struck his natural acutenessof observation, that the eye of the gallant cavalier did now andthen, furtively as it were, seek a glance of his countenance, as if todiscover how he was taking the exhibition of his antagonist's composureand serenity of mind.
He shall read nothing in my countenance, thought Halbert, proudly, thatcan make him think my indifference less than his own.
And taking from the shelf a bag full of miscellaneous matters collectedfor the purpose, he began with great industry to dress hooks, and hadfinished half-a-dozen of flies (we are enabled, for the benefit of thosewho admire the antiquities of the gentle art of angling, to state thatthey were brown hackles) by the time that Sir Piercie had arrived at theconclusion of his long-winded strophes of the divine Astrophel. So thathe also testified a magnanimous contempt of that which to-morrow shouldbring forth.
As it now waxed late, the family of Glendearg separated for the evening;Sir Piercie first saying to the dame, that "her son Albert--"
"Halbert," said Elspeth, with emphasis, "Halbert, after his goodsire,Halbert Brydone."
"Well, then, I have prayed your son, Halbert, that we may strivetomorrow, with the sun's earliness, to wake a stag from his lair, that Imay see whether he be as prompt at that sport as fame bespeaks him."
"Alas! sir," answered Dame Elspeth, "he is but too prompt, an youtalk of promptitude, at any thing that has steel at one end of it, andmischief at the other. But he is at your honourable disposal, and Itrust you will teach him how obedience is due to our venerable fatherand lord, the Abbot, and prevail with him to take the bow-bearer's placein fee; for, as the two worthy monks said, it will be a great help to awidow-woman."
"Trust me, good dame," replied Sir Piercie, "it is my purpose so toindoctrinate him touching his conduct and bearing towards his betters,that he shall not lightly depart from the reverence due to them.--Wemeet, then, beneath the birch-trees in the plain," he said, lookingto Halbert, "so soon as the eye of day hath opened its lids."--Halbertanswered with a sign of acquiescence, and the knight proceeded, "Andnow, having wished to my fairest Discretion those pleasant dreams whichwave their pinions around the couch of sleeping beauty, and to thiscomely damsel the bounties of Morpheus, and to all others the commongood-night, I will crave you leave to depart to my place of rest, thoughI may say with the poet,
'Ah rest!--no rest but change of place and posture: Ah sleep!--no sleep but worn-out Nature's swooning; Ah bed!--no bed but cushion fill'd with stones: Rest, sleep, nor bed, await not on an exile.'"
With a delicate obeisance he left the room, evading Dame Glendinning,who hastened to assure him he would find his accommodations for reposemuch more agreeable than they had been the night before, there havingbeen store of warm coverlets, and a soft feather-bed, sent up from theAbbey. But the good knight probably thought that the grace and effectof his exit would be diminished, if he were recalled from his heroics todiscuss such sublunary and domestic topics, and therefore hastened awaywithout waiting to hear her out.
"A pleasant gentleman," said Dame Glendinning; "but I will warranthim an humorous [Footnote: _Humorous_--full of whims--thus Shakspeare,"Humorous as winter."--The vulgar word humorsome comes nearest tothe meaning.]--And sings a sweet song, though it is somewhat of thelongest.--Well, I make mine avow he is goodly company--I wonder when hewill go away."
Having thus expressed her respect for her guest, not without intimationthat she was heartily tired of his company, the good dame gave thesignal for the family to disperse, and laid her injunctions on Halbertto attend Sir Piercie Shafton at daybreak, as he required.
When stretched on his pallet by his brother's side, Halbert had no smallcause to envy the sound sleep which instantly settled on the eyes ofEdward, but refused him any share of its influence. He saw now too wellwhat the spirit had darkly indicated, that, in granting the boon whichhe had asked so unadvisedly, she had contributed more to his harm thanhis good. He was now sensible, too late, of the various dangers andinconveniences with which his dearest friends were threatened, alike byhis discomfiture or his success in the approaching duel. If he fell, hemight say personally, "good-night all." But it was not the less certainthat he should leave a dreadful legacy of distress and embarrassmentto his mother and family,--an anticipation which by no means tended torender the front of death, in itself a grisly object, more agreeable tohis imagination. The vengeance of the Abbot, his conscience told him,was sure to descend on his mother and brother, or could only be avertedby the generosity of the victor--And Mary Avenel--he should have shownhimself, if he succumbed in the present combat, as inefficient inprotecting her, as he had been unnecessarily active in bringing disasteron her, and on the house in which she had been protected from infancy.And to this view of the case were to be added all those imbittered andanxious feelings with which the bravest men, even in a better or lessdoubtful quarrel, regard the issue of a dubious conflict, the first timewhen it has been their fate to engage in an affair of that nature.
But however disconsolate the prospect seemed in the event of his beingconquered, Halbert could expect from victory little more than the safetyof his own life, and the gratification of his wounded pride. To hisfriends--to his mother and brother--especially to Mary Avenel--theconsequences of his triumph would be more certain destruction than thecontingency of his defeat and death. If the English knight survived, hemight in courtesy extend his protection to them; but if he fell, nothingwas likely to screen them from the vindictive measures which the Abbotand convent would surely adopt against the violation of the peace ofthe Halidome, and the slaughter of a protected guest by one of theirown vassals, within whose house they had lodged him for shelter. Thesethoughts, in which neither view of the case augured aught short of ruinto his family, and that ruin entirely brought on by his own rashness,were thorns in Halbert Glendinning's pillow, and deprived his soul ofpeace and his eyes of slumber.
There appeared no middle course, saving one which was marked bydegradation, and which, even if he stooped to it, was by no means freeof danger. He might indeed confess to the English knight the strangecircumstances which led to his presenting him with that token which theWhite Lady (in her displeasure as it now seemed) had given him, thathe might offer it to Sir Piercie Shafton. But to this avowal his pridecould not stoop, and reason, who is wonderfully ready to be of counselwith pride on such occasions, offered many arguments to show it would beuseless as well as mean so far to degrade himself. "If I tell a tale sowonderful," thought he, "shall I not either be stigmatized as a liar,or punished as a wizard?--Were Sir Piercie Shafton generous, noble, andbenevolent, as th
e champions of whom we hear in romance, I might indeedgain his ear, and, without demeaning myself, escape from thesituation in which I am placed. But as he is, or at least seems to be,self-conceited, arrogant, vain, and presumptuous--I should but humblemyself in vain--and I will not humble myself!" he said, starting outof bed, grasping his broadsword, and brandishing it in the light ofthe moon, which streamed through the deep niche that served them as awindow; when, to his extreme surprise and terror, an airy form stood inthe moonlight, but intercepted not the reflection on the floor. Dimly asit was expressed, the sound of the voice soon made him sensible he sawthe White Lady.
At no time had her presence seemed so terrific to him; for when he hadinvoked her, it was with the expectation of the apparition, and thedetermination to abide the issue. But now she had come uncalled, and herpresence impressed him with a sense of approaching misfortune, and withthe hideous apprehension that he had associated himself with a demon,over whose motions he had no control, and of whose powers and quality hehad no certain knowledge. He remained, therefore, in mere terror, gazingon the apparition, which chanted or recited in cadence the followinglines--
"He whose heart for vengeance sued, Must not shrink from shedding blood The knot that thou hast tied with word, Thou must loose by edge of sword."
"Avaunt thee, false Spirit!" said Halbert Glendinning; "I have boughtthy advice too dearly already--Begone in the name of God!"
The Spirit laughed; and the cold unnatural sound of her laughter hadsomething in it more fearful than the usually melancholy tones of hervoice. She then replied,--
"You have summon'd me once--you have summoned me twice, And without e'er a summons I come to you thrice; Unask'd for, unsued for, you came to my glen; Unsued and unask'd I am with you again."
Halbert Glendinning gave way for a moment to terror, and called on hisbrother, "Edward! waken, waken, for Our Lady's sake!"
Edward awaked accordingly, and asked what he wanted.
"Look out," said Halbert, "look up! seest thou no one in the room?"
"No, upon my good word," said Edward, looking out.
"What! seest thou nothing in the moonshine upon the floor there?"
"No, nothing," answered Edward, "save thyself resting on thy nakedsword. I tell thee, Halbert, thou shouldst trust more to thy spiritualarms, and less to those of steel and iron. For this many a night hastthou started and moaned, and cried out of fighting, and of spectres, andof goblins--thy sleep hath not refreshed thee--thy waking hath been adream.--Credit me, dear Halbert, say the _Pater_ and _Credo_, resignthyself to the protection of God, and thou wilt sleep sound and wake incomfort."
"It may be," said Halbert slowly, and having his eye still bent on thefemale form which to him seemed distinctly visible,--"it may be. Buttell me, dear Edward, seest thou no one on the chamber floor but me?"
"No one," answered Edward, raising himself on his elbow; "dear brother,lay aside thy weapon, say thy prayers, and lay thee down to rest."
While he thus spoke, the Spirit smiled at Halbert as if in scorn; herwan cheek faded in the wan moonlight even before the smile had passedaway, and Halbert himself no longer beheld the vision to which he had soanxiously solicited his brother's attention. "May God preserve my wits!"he said, as, laying aside his weapon, he again threw himself on his bed.
"Amen! my dearest brother," answered Edward; "but we must not provokethat Heaven in our wantonness which we invoke in our misery.--Be notangry with me, my dear brother--I know not why you have totally of lateestranged yourself from me--It is true, I am neither so athletic inbody, nor so alert in courage, as you have been from your infancy; yet,till lately, you have not absolutely cast off my society--Believe me, Ihave wept in secret, though I forbore to intrude myself on your privacy.The time has been--when you held me not so cheap; and--when, if I couldnot follow the game so closely, or mark it so truly as you, I couldfill up our intervals of pastime with pleasant tales of the olden times,which I had read or heard, and which excited even your attention aswe sate and ate our provision by some pleasant spring--but now I have,though I know not why, lost thy regard and affection.--Nay, toss notthy arms about thee thus wildly," said the younger brother; "from thystrange dreams, I fear some touch of fever hath affected thy blood--letme draw closer around thee thy mantle."
"Forbear," said Halbert--"your care is needless--your complaints arewithout reason--your fears on my account are in vain."
"Nay, but hear me, brother," said Edward. "Your speech in sleep, and noweven your waking dreams, are of beings which belong not to this world,or to our race--Our good Father Eustace says, that howbeit we may notdo well to receive all idle tales of goblins and spectres, yet there iswarrant from holy Scripture to believe, that the fiends haunt waste andsolitary places; and that those who frequent such wildernesses alone,are the prey, or the sport, of these wandering demons. And therefore,I pray thee, brother, let me go with you when you go next up the glen,where, as you well know, there be places of evil reputation--Thoucarest not for my escort; but, Halbert, such dangers are more safelyencountered by the wise in judgment, than by the bold in bosom; andthough I have small cause to boast of my own wisdom, yet I have thatwhich ariseth from the written knowledge of elder times."
There was a moment during this discourse, when Halbert had well-nighcome to the resolution of disburdening his own breast, by intrustingEdward with all that weighed upon it. But when his brother reminded himthat this was the morning of a high holiday, and that, setting aside allother business or pleasure, he ought to go to the Monastery andshrive himself before Father Eustace, who would that day occupy theconfessional, pride stepped in and confirmed his wavering resolution."I will not avow," he thought, "a tale so extraordinary, that I may beconsidered as an impostor or something worse--I will not fly from thisEnglishman, whose arm and sword may be no better than my own. My fathershave faced his betters, were he as much distinguished in battle as he isby his quaint discourse."
Pride, which has been said to save man, and woman too, from falling,has yet a stronger influence on the mind when it embraces the cause ofpassion, and seldom fails to render it victorious over conscience andreason. Halbert, once determined, though not to the better course, atlength slept soundly, and was only awakened by the dawn of day.
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