13057 "I might guess so much," said Saladin; "but his passion had existed ere my wishes had been formed-and, I must now add, is likely to survive them. I cannot, in honor, revenge me for my disappointment on him who had no hand in it. Or if this high-born dame loved him better than myself, who can say that she did not justice to a knight of her own religion, who is full of nobleness?" "Yet of too mean lineage to mix with the blood of Plantagenet," said Richard haughtily. "Such may be your maxims in Frangistan," replied the Soldan. "Our poets of the Eastern countries say that a valiant camel-driver is worthy to kiss the lip of a fair Queen, when a cowardly prince is not worthy to salute the hem of her garment. But with your permission, noble brother, I must take leave of thee for the present, to receive the Duke of Austria and yonder Nazarene knight,- much less worthy of hospitality, but who must yet be suitably entreated, not for their sakes, but for mine own honor; -for what saith the sage Lokman? 'Say not that the food is lost unto thee which is given to the stranger; for if his body be strengthened and fattened therewithal, not less is thine own worship and good name cherished and augmented." The Saracen monarch departed from King Richard's tent; and having indicated to him, rather with signs than with speech, where the pavilion of the Queen and her attendants was pitched, he went to receive the Marquis of Montserrat and his attendants, for whom, with less good-will but with equal splendor, the magnificent Soldan had provided accommodations. The most ample refreshments, both in the Oriental and after the European fashion, were spread before the royal and princely guests of Saladin, each in their own separate pavilion; and so attentive was the Soldan to the habits and taste of his visitors, that Grecian slaves were stationed to present them with the goblet, which is the abomination of the sect of Mohammed. Ere Richard had finished his meal, the ancient Omrah, who had brought the Soldan's letter to the Christian camp, entered with a plan of the ceremonial to be observed on the succeeding day of the combat. Richard, who knew the taste of his old acquaintance, invited him to pledge him in a flagon of wine of Schiraz: but Abdallah gave him to understand, with a rueful aspect, that selfdenial, in the present circumstances, was a matter in which his life was concerned; for that Saladin, tolerant in many respects, XXII-817 both observed, and enforced by high penalties, the laws of the Prophet. "Nay, then," said Richard, "if he loves not wine, that lightener of the human heart, his conversion is not to be hoped for, and the prediction of the mad priest of Engaddi goes like chaff down the wind." THE LAST MINSTREL Prelude to the 'Lay of the Last Minstrel' HE way was long, the wind was cold, THE The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have known a better day; No longer, courted and caressed, High placed in hall, a welcome guest, He poured, to lord and lady gay, The unpremeditated lay: Old times were changed, old manners gone; A stranger filled the Stuarts' throne; The bigots of the iron time Had called his harmless art a crime. A wandering Harper, scorned and poor, He passed where Newark's stately tower The embattled portal arch he passed, And how full many a tale he knew To listen to an old man's strain, Though stiff his hands, his voice though weak, He could make music to her ear. The humble boon was soon obtained: And then he said, he would full fain It was not framed for village churls, But for high dames and mighty earls; He had played it to King Charles the Good, When he kept court in Holyrood; And much he wished, yet feared, to try The long-forgotten melody. Amid the strings his fingers strayed, And an uncertain warbling made, And oft he shook his hoary head: But when he caught the measure wild, The old man raised his face, and smiled; With all a poet's ecstasy! In varying cadence, soft or strong, He swept the sounding chords along; The present scene, the future lot, LOCHINVAR From Marmion YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the west: "Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar! He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone; The bride had consented, the gallant came late; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all: So stately his form, and so lovely her face, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur: So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? |