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across my saddlebow contains a full receipt for the discharge of my sovereign. Certain I am that little is left unto him of the prize he made from the caravan of Egypt.
Rich. The gold and silver were distributed among my soldiers, for the only prizes worthy of me were Saladin and Jerusalem. · The Christian princes judged of me from their own worthlessness: Saladin judged of me from himself. Look now toward the Holy Alliance. Philip swore upon the Evangelists to abstain from aggression in my absence. Collecting an army on the borders of Normandy, he protests that his measures are pacific, invokes heaven against usurpers, and invades the province. He would persuade me, no doubt, that a regiment of horse on the low grounds is a preventive of agues, and a body of archers on the hills a specific for a fever. Aye, Abbot, and his bishops lead him forth and light him on : his nobility follows him with alacrity and applause. In the whole extent of France there is neither sword nor crozier unsullied by perjury. Where upon earth was there ever a people so ready to swear and to forswear, to fight and to fly ? Equally enthusiastic in opposite causes, and embracing them without breathing betwixt, their enthusiasm is however always in proportion to their numbers. A Frenchman, like a herring, loses his course, when he loses his company, and his very instinct (in truth he has little else) forsakes him. The bravest kings with him are those who cast down conscience the most readily, and those whose appetites are the most groveling are the best.
Abbot. Alas, my liege, society is froth above and dregs below, and we have hard work to keep the middle of it sweet and sound, to communicate right reason and to preserve right feelings. In voyages you may see too much, and learn too little. The winds and the waves throw about
you their mutability and their turbulence. When we lose sight of home, we lose something else than that which school-boys weep for.
Rich. By the keenness of your eye, compassionate as it is, I discover, my good Abbot, that you have watched and traced me from the beginning of my wanderings. Let me now tell my story. I sailed along the realms of my family; on the right was England, on the left was France; little else could I discover than steril eminences and extensive shoals. They fled behind me : so pass away generations; so shift, and sink, and die away affections. In the wide ocean I was little of a monarch; old men guided me, boys instructed me; these taught me the names of my towns
and harbours, those shewed me the extent of my dominions: one cloud that dissolved in one hour half covered them.
I debark in Sicily. I place my hand upon the throne of Tancred, and fix it. I sail again, and within a day or two I behold, as the sun is setting, the solitary majesty of Crete, mother of a religion, it is said, that lived two thousand years. Onward, and many bright specks bubble up along the blue Egean; islands, every one of which, if the songs and stories of the pilots are true, is the monument of a greater man than I am. I leave them afar off... and for whom? O Abbot, to join creatures of less import than the sea-mews on their cliffs ; men praying to be heard, and fearing to be understood, ambitious of another's power in the midst of penitence, avaricious of another's wealth under vows of poverty, and jealous of another's glory in the service of their God. Is this Christianity ? and is Saladin to be blamed if he despises it? Abbot. We have only to consider now what lies before
Could not my liege have treated with the duke of Austria ?
Rich. Yes, had he been more nearly my equal. I punished his neglect of discipline : it became in his power to indulge his revenge. He spoke wisely who said, There is no confidence in princes; and he will speak not unwisely, who shall say, There is none for them.
MR. OLDBUCK-LOVEL-EDIE OCHILTREE.
Sir Walter Scott.
Oldbuck. Here, Mr. Lovel, is a truly remarkable spot. Lovel. It commands a fine view.
Old. True, but it is not for the prospect I brought you hither ; do you see nothing else remarkable ?-nothing on the surface of the ground ?
Lov. Why, yes ; [ do see something like a ditch indis. tinctly marked.
old. Indistinctly !--pardon me, sir, but the indistinctness must be in your powers of vision--nothing can be plainly traced—a proper agger or vallum, with its corresponding ditch or fossa. Indistinctly! why, bless you, the
lassie, my niece, as lightheaded a goose as womankind affords, saw the traces of the ditch at once. Indistinct ! why, you must suppose that fools, boors, and idiots have ploughed up the land, and, like beasts and ignorant savages, have, thereby, obliterated two sides of the square, and greatly injured the third ; but ye see, yourself, the fourth side is quite entire!
Lov. Pardon my inexperienced eyes, Mr. Oldbuck, I now perceive it more clearly.
old. My dear sir, your eyes are not inexperienced; you know a ditch from level ground, I presume, when you see them ? Indistinct! why, the very common people, the very least boy that can herd a cow, calls it the Kaim of Kinprunes, and, if that does not imply an ancient camp, I am ignorant what does. You must know, our Scottish antiquaries have been greatly divided about the local situation of the final conflict between Agricola and the Caledonians. Now, after all this discussion, what would you
Mr. Lovel; I say, what would you think—if the memorable scene of conflict should happen to be on this very spot called the Kaim of Kinprunes, the property of the obscure and humble individual who now speaks to you? Yes, my good friend, I am indeed greatly deceived, if this place does not correspond with all the marks of that celebrated place of action. It was near to the Grampian mountainslo! yonder they are, mixing and contending with the sky on the skirts of the horizon !-it was in
classisin sight of the Roman fleet; and would any admiral, Roman or British, wish a fairer bay to ride in, than that on your right hand ?
I was unwilling to say a word about it till I had secured the ground; for it belonged to auld Johnnie Howie, a bonnet-laird here hard by, and many a communing we had before he and I could agree. At lengthI am almost ashamed to say it—but I even brought my mind to give acre for acre of my good corn land for this
But then it was a national concern ; and when the scene of so celebrated an event became my own, I was overpaid. Whose patriotism would not grow warmer, as old Johnson says, on the plains of Marathon f I began to trench the ground, to see what might be discovered ; and the third day, sir, we found a stone, which I have transported to Monkbarns, in order to have the sculpture taken off with plaster of Paris ; it bears a sacrificing vessel, and the letters A. D. L. L., which may stand, without much violence, for Agricola Dicavit Libens Lubens.
Lov. Certainly, sir; for the Dutch antiquaries claim Caligula as the founder of a light-house, on the sole authority of the letters C. C. P. F., which they interpret Caius Caligula Pharum Fecit.”
Old. True, and it has ever been recorded as a sound exposition. I see we shall make something of you, even before you wear spectacles, notwithstanding you thought the traces of this beautiful camp indistinct when you first observed them.
Lov. In time, sir, and by good instruction
Old. You will become more apt. I doubt it not. Now, my good friend, I appeal to the people's eyesight-is not here the Decumen gate ? and there, but for the ravage of the horrid plough, as a learned friend calls it, would be the Prætorian gate. On the left hand you may see some slight vestiges of the porta sinistra, and, on the right, one side of the porta dextra well nigh entire—Here, then, let us take our stand, on this tumulus, exhibiting the foundation of ruined buildings—the central point-the Prætorium, doubtless, of the camp.
-See, then, Lovel-see-
Yes, my dear friend, from this stand it is probable—nay,
it is nearly certain, that Julius Agricola beheld what our Beaumont thus so admirably described !-From this very Prætorium
[Enter Edie Ochiltree from behind.] Edie. Prætorian here, Prætorian there, I mind the bigging ot.
Old. What is that you say, Edie? What were you speaking about ?
Edie. About this bit bourock, your honour; I mind the bigging o't.
Old. You do! Why, you old fool, it was here before you were born, and will be after you are hanged, man!
Edie. Hanged or drowned, here or awa, dead or alive, I mind the bigging o't.
Old. You-you-you strolling vagabond, what do you know about it?
Edie. Why, I ken this anent it, Monk barns, and what profit have I for telling ye a lie-i just ken this about it, that about twenty years syne, I, and a whin hallenshakers like myself, and the mason-lads that built the lang dyke that gaes down the loaning, and twa or three herds maybe, just set to wark, and built this bit thing here that ye ca’ the
-the-Prætorian, and a' just for a bield at auld Aiken Drum's bridal. Mair by token, Monkbarns; if ye howk up the bourock, as ye seem to have begun, ye'll find, if ye have not found it already, a stane that ane o' the mason callants cut a ladle on to have a bourd at the bridegroom, and he put four letters on't, that's A. D. L. L.-Aiken Drum's Lang Ladle—for Aiken was ane o' the kalesuppers O' Fife.
Lov. [Aside.] This is a famous counterpart to the story of Keip on this syde.
Old. There is some mistake about this.
Edie. De'il a bit on my side o' the wa'; 1 never deal in mistakes, they aye bring mischances. Now, Monkbarns, that young gentleman, that's wi' your honour, thinks little of a carle like me, and yet, I'll wager, I'll tell him whar he was yestreen at the gloamin, only he maybe wadna like to hae't spoken o' in company,
Old. Never mind the old rogue ; don't suppose I think the worse of you for your profession; they are only prejuDiced fools and coxcombs that do so. You remember what old Tully says in his oration, pro Archia poeta, concerning one of your confraternity-Quis nostrum tam animo ugresti ac duro fuit-ut-ut—I forget the Latin—the meaning is, which of us was so rude and barbarous as to remain unmoved at the death of the great Roscius, whose advanced age was so far from preparing us for his death, that we rather hoped one so graceful, so excellent in his art, ought to be exempted from the common lot of mortality. So the prince of orators spoke of the stage and its professors.
Edie. [to Lovel.] Never mind me, sir-I am no talepyet; but there are mair een in the world than mine. [to Oldbuck.] I am awa' to the manse, your honour. Has your honour ony word there, or to Sir Arthur, for l'll come in by Knockwinnock castle again e’en ?
Old. Go down, go down to Monkbarns—let them give you some dinner-or stay; if you do go to the manse, or to Knockwinnock, ye need say nothing about that foolish story