by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXIII
WAVEELEY CONTINUES AT GLENNAQUOICH
As Flora concluded her song, Fergus stood before them. 'I knew Ishould find you here, even without the assistance of my friendBran. A simple and unsublimed taste now, like my own, would prefera jet d'eau at Versailles to this cascade, with all itsaccompaniments of rock and roar; but this is Flora's Parnassus,Captain Waverley, and that fountain her Helicon. It would begreatly for the benefit of my cellar if she could teach hercoadjutor, Mac-Murrough, the value of its influence: he has justdrunk a pint of usquebaugh to correct, he said, the coldness ofthe claret. Let me try its virtues.' He sipped a little water inthe hollow of his hand, and immediately commenced, with atheatrical air,--
'O Lady of the desert, hail! That lovest the harping of the Gael, Through fair and fertile regions borne, Where never yet grew grass or corn.
But English poetry will never succeed under the influence of aHighland Helicon. Allons, courage!
O vous, qui buvez, a tasse pleine, A cette heureuse fontaine, Ou on ne voit, sur le rivage, Que quelques vilains troupeaux, Suivis de nymphes de village, Qui les escortent sans sabots--'
'A truce, dear Fergus! spare us those most tedious and insipidpersons of all Arcadia. Do not, for Heaven's sake, bring downCoridon and Lindor upon us.'
'Nay, if you cannot relish la houlette et le chalumeau, have withyou in heroic strains.'
'Dear Fergus, you have certainly partaken of the inspiration ofMac-Murrough's cup rather than of mine.'
'I disclaim it, ma belle demoiselle, although I protest it wouldbe the more congenial of the two. Which of your crack-brainedItalian romancers is it that says,
Io d'Elicona niente Mi curo, in fe de Dio; che'l bere d'acque (Bea chi ber ne vuol) sempre mi spiacque!
[Footnote:
Good sooth, I reck nought of your Helicon; Drink water whoso will, in faith I will drink none.]
But if you prefer the Gaelic, Captain Waverley, here is littleCathleen shall sing you Drimmindhu. Come, Cathleen, astore (i.e.my dear), begin; no apologies to the cean-kinne.'
Cathleen sung with much liveliness a little Gaelic song, theburlesque elegy of a countryman on the loss of his cow, the comictones of which, though he did not understand the language, madeWaverley laugh more than once. [Footnote: This ancient Gaelicditty is still well known, both in the Highlands and in Ireland Itwas translated into English, and published, if I mistake not,under the auspices of the facetious Tom D'Urfey, by the title of'Colley, my Cow.']
'Admirable, Cathleen!' cried the Chieftain; 'I must find you ahandsome husband among the clansmen one of these days.'
Cathleen laughed, blushed, and sheltered herself behind hercompanion.
In the progress of their return to the castle, the Chieftainwarmly pressed Waverley to remain for a week or two, in order tosee a grand hunting party, in which he and some other Highlandgentlemen proposed to join. The charms of melody and beauty weretoo strongly impressed in Edward's breast to permit his decliningan invitation so pleasing. It was agreed, therefore, that heshould write a note to the Baron of Bradwardine, expressing hisintention to stay a fortnight at Glennaquoich, and requesting himto forward by the bearer (a gilly of the Chieftain's) any letterswhich might have arrived for him.
This turned the discourse upon the Baron, whom Fergus highlyextolled as a gentleman and soldier. His character was touchedwith yet more discrimination by Flora, who observed he was thevery model of the old Scottish cavalier, with all his excellenciesand peculiarities. 'It is a character, Captain Waverley, which isfast disappearing; for its best point was a self-respect which wasnever lost sight of till now. But in the present time thegentlemen whose principles do not permit them to pay court to theexisting government are neglected and degraded, and many conductthemselves accordingly; and, like some of the persons you haveseen at Tully-Veolan, adopt habits and companions inconsistentwith their birth and breeding. The ruthless proscription of partyseems to degrade the victims whom it brands, however unjustly. Butlet us hope a brighter day is approaching, when a Scottish countrygentleman may be a scholar without the pedantry of our friend theBaron, a sportsman without the low habits of Mr. Falconer, and ajudicious improver of his property without becoming a boorish two-legged steer like Killancureit.'
Thus did Flora prophesy a revolution, which time indeed hasproduced, but in a manner very different from what she had in hermind.
The amiable Rose was next mentioned, with the warmest encomium onher person, manners, and mind. 'That man,' said Flora, 'will findan inestimable treasure in the affections of Rose Bradwardine whoshall be so fortunate as to become their object. Her very soul isin home, and in the discharge of all those quiet virtues of whichhome is the centre. Her husband will be to her what her father nowis, the object of all her care, solicitude, and affection. Shewill see nothing, and connect herself with nothing, but by him andthrough him. If he is a man of sense and virtue, she willsympathise in his sorrows, divert his fatigue, and share hispleasures. If she becomes the property of a churlish or negligenthusband, she will suit his taste also, for she will not longsurvive his unkindness. And, alas! how great is the chance thatsome such unworthy lot may be that of my poor friend! O that Iwere a queen this moment, and could command the most amiable andworthy youth of my kingdom to accept happiness with the hand ofRose Bradwardine!'
'I wish you would command her to accept mine en attendant,' saidFergus, laughing.
I don't know by what caprice it was that this wish, howeverjocularly expressed, rather jarred on Edward's feelings,notwithstanding his growing inclination to Flora and hisindifference to Miss Bradwardine. This is one of theinexplicabilities of human nature, which we leave without comment.
'Yours, brother?' answered Flora, regarding him steadily. 'No; youhave another bride--Honour; and the dangers you must run inpursuit of her rival would break poor Rose's heart.'
With this discourse they reached the castle, and Waverley soonprepared his despatches for Tully-Veolan. As he knew the Baron waspunctilious in such matters, he was about to impress his billetwith a seal on which his armorial bearings were engraved, but hedid not find it at his watch, and thought he must have left it atTully-Veolan. He mentioned his loss, borrowing at the same timethe family seal of the Chieftain.
'Surely,' said Miss Mac-Ivor, 'Donald Bean Lean would not--'
'My life for him in such circumstances,' answered her brother;'besides, he would never have left the watch behind.'
'After all, Fergus,' said Flora, 'and with every allowance, I amsurprised you can countenance that man.'
'I countenance him? This kind sister of mine would persuade you,Captain Waverley, that I take what the people of old used to call"a steakraid," that is, a "collop of the foray," or, in plainerwords, a portion of the robber's booty, paid by him to the Laird,or Chief, through whose grounds he drove his prey. O, it iscertain that, unless I can find some way to charm Flora's tongue,General Blakeney will send a sergeant's party from Stirling (thishe said with haughty and emphatic irony) to seize Vich lan Vohr,as they nickname me, in his own castle.'
'Now, Fergus, must not our guest be sensible that all this isfolly and affectation? You have men enough to serve you withoutenlisting banditti, and your own honour is above taint. Why don'tyou send this Donald Bean Lean, whom I hate for his smoothness andduplicity even more than for his rapine, out of your country atonce? No cause should induce me to tolerate such a character.'
'No cause, Flora?' said the Chieftain significantly.
'No cause, Fergus! not even that which is nearest to my heart.Spare it the omen of such evil supporters!'
'O but, sister,' rejoined the Chief gaily, 'you don't consider myrespect for la belle passion. Evan Dhu Maccombich is in love withDonald's daughter, Alice, and you cannot expect me to disturb himin his amours. Why, the whole clan would cry shame on me. You knowit is one of their wise sayings, that a kinsman is part of a man'sbody, but a foster-brother is a p
iece of his heart.'
'Well, Fergus, there is no disputing with you; but I would allthis may end well.'
'Devoutly prayed, my dear and prophetic sister, and the best wayin the world to close a dubious argument. But hear ye not thepipes, Captain Waverley? Perhaps you will like better to dance tothem in the hall than to be deafened with their harmony withouttaking part in the exercise they invite us to.'
Waverley took Flora's hand. The dance, song, and merry-makingproceeded, and closed the day's entertainment at the castle ofVich Ian Vohr. Edward at length retired, his mind agitated by avariety of new and conflicting feelings, which detained him fromrest for some time, in that not unpleasing state of mind in whichfancy takes the helm, and the soul rather drifts passively alongwith the rapid and confused tide of reflections than exerts itselfto encounter, systematise, or examine them. At a late hour he fellasleep, and dreamed of Flora Mac-Ivor.