Слике страница
PDF
ePub

The surgeon having been roused from his snoose by the orderly, instantly gallopped off to the assistance of the trooper, who had, however, previous to his reaching the ground, got fairly on his legs, and was taking considerable credit for throwing himself off so neatly. The doctor, having applied a finger to the tailor's pulse, and having passed his hand over his limbs, declared him free from blemish, and that there was no necessity for prescribing any other medicine than a walk to the city. The doctor and the deacon having taken their position in the rear of the regiment, it proceeded onward, and soon found itself within the precincts of Glasgow.

On entering the city the band immediately struck up "Caller Herring," the sounds of which made every window fly open, and suggested to every cook the necessity of making instant preparation for the approach of her hungry master. Fearing, however, that the instructive melody might not altogether tell on the deaf ears of Girzy, my fat friend, who had agreed to take a steak with me, no sooner saw my old housekeeper at the window than he bawled out at the top of his voice, "Girzy, my lass, you may put on the taties noo!" Scarcely had the pleasing sound reached the ear of old Girzy, than I was accosted by the well-known "Guadeo valere" of Ritchie Falconer, who, after sarcastically exclaiming, "Fortuna favet fortibus," breathlessly inquired what had befallen his customer the deacon, and told us of the consternation of his wife. The story of the tailor's mishap satisfied the barber, while the appearance of Lawboard himself quieted the fearful prognostications of his anxious helpmate.

The corps, on reaching its usual place of rendezvous, was immediately dispersed, while the soldiers hurried home to calm the fears of their wives, mothers, and sisters. In the evening the clubrooms of the city rang with unusual mirth and jollity. Each roof echoed back the scenes of the day and of the foray, but among them there was none that occasioned more fun and laughter than the tale of the churn and the promotion of the tailor.

Thus began and thus ended the ever memorable day of the Battle of Garscube-a day unstained with blood, unsurpassed by heat, alike famous for its foray and for the capture of one prisoner-a day in short which proved the brightest gem in the garland of Glasgow Volunteer glory, and has afforded as noble a theme of conversation to the few remaining pig-tailed soldiers of the Scottish western metropolis as that of St Hilier's did to their gallant commander.

The Glasgow corps of Volunteers which so eminently distinguished itself on that eventful occasion, scarcely survived the close of the century that gave it birth, while the generality of the happy faces that grinned with delight at the ludicrous plight of Deacon

Lawboard, have now, as Hamlet says, few left to mock their grinning; and had I not perhaps been reminded the other day of the immortal action of this gallant corps, by perusing the equally deathless deed of its bounty, on the wall of the Royal Infirmary Hall, I might possibly have never dreamt of becoming the humble annalist of its military glory.

Courteous and indulgent reader, having now doubtless exhausted thy time and thy patience, permit me, ere I close, to plead the telltale privilege of an old soldier; a plea which may, perhaps, induce thee to pardon the gossip and the garrulity of a

GLASGOW SEPTUAGENARIAN.

THE POET'S PEN.*

(FROM THE GREEK OF MENECRATES.)

I WAS an useless reed: no cluster hung
My brow with purple grapes, no blossom flung
The coronet of crimson on my stem;

No apple blushed upon me, nor (the gem

Of flowers) the violet strewed the yellow heath
Around my feet, nor jessamine's sweet wreath
Robed me in silver. Day and night I pined
On the lone moor, and shiver'd in the wind.
At length a poet found me. From my side

He smoothed the pale and withered leaves, and dyed

My lips in Helicon. From that high hour

I spoke! My words were flame and living power;

All the wide wonders of the world were mine,
Far as the surges roll, or sunbeams shine;
Deep as earth's bosom hides the emerald;
High as the hills with thunder clouds are pall'd.
And there was sweetness round me, that the dew
Had never wet so sweet on violets blue.

To me the mighty sceptre was a wand-+

The roar of nations peal'd at my command;

To me the dungeon, sword, and scourge were vain,

I smote the smiter and I broke the chain;
Or, towering o'er them all, without a plume,
I pierced the purple air, the tempest's gloom,
Till blazed the Olympian glories on my eye-
Stars, temples, thrones, and gods-infinity.

"A feeble reed has power to conquer, to comfort, to instruct, and to amuse nien," said an Athenian, one day, in conversation. His companion did not comprehend his meaning, and asked for an explanation. The Athenian answered, "Of this frail material are made arrows to kill with, beds to rest upon, pens for writing, and flutes whose music soothes the mind." From the French of Barthelemy.

To me the mighty sceptre was a wand." Little thought they, the Popes, in the amplitud and security of their power, that the mighty throne upon which they sat, fastened in the prejudices, the affections, and the ignorance of mankind, was to be shaken to its foundation by that little engine, the pen."- Mr Godwin's Life of Geoffrey Chaucer.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.*

In the city of Vienna there once reigned a duke of such a mild and gentle temper, that he suffered his subjects to neglect the laws with impunity; and there was in particular one law, the existence of which was almost forgotten, the duke never having put it in force during his whole reign. This was a law dooming any man to the punishment of death, who should live with a woman that was not his wife; and this law, through the lenity of the duke, being utterly disregarded, the holy institution of marriage became neglected, and complaints were every day made to the duke by the parents of the young ladies in Vienna, that their daughters had been seduced from their protection, and were living as the companions of single men.

The good duke perceived with sorrow this growing evil among his subjects; but he thought that a sudden change in himself from the indulgence he had hitherto shown, to the strict severity requisite to check this abuse, would make his people (who had hitherto loved him) consider him as a tyrant: therefore he determined to absent himself a while from his dukedom, and depute another to the full exercise of his power, that the law against these dishonourable lovers might be put in effect, without giving offence by an unusual severity in his own person.

Angelo, a man who bore the reputation of a saint in Vienna for his strict and rigid life, was chosen by the duke as a fit person to undertake this important charge; and when the duke imparted his design to lord Escalus, his chief counsellor, Escalus said, "If any man in Vienna be of worth to undergo such ample grace and honour, it is lord Angelo." And now the duke departed from Vienna under pretence of making a journey into Poland, leaving Angelo to act as the lord deputy in his absence; but the duke's absence was only a feigned one, for he privately returned to Vienna, habited like a friar, with the intent to watch unseen the conduct of the saintly-seeming Angelo.

It happened just about the time that Angelo was invested with his new dignity, that a gentleman, whose name was Claudio, had seduced a young lady from her parents; and for this offence, by command of the new lord deputy, Claudio was taken up and committed to prison, and by virtue of the old law which had been so long neglected, Angelo sentenced Claudio to be beheaded. Great interest was made for the pardon of young Claudio, and the good

* From Tales from Shakspeare.' By Charles Lamb.

old lord Escalus himself interceded for him.

"Alas," said he, "this gentleman whom I would save had an honourable father, for whose sake I pray you pardon the young man's transgression." But Angelo replied, "We must not make a scarecrow of the law, setting it up to frighten birds of prey, till custom, finding it harmless, makes it their perch, and not their terror. Sir, he must die." Lucio, the friend of Claudio, visited him in the prison, and Claudio said to him, "I pray you, Lucio, do me this kind service. Go to my sister Isabel, who this day proposes to enter the convent of Saint Clare; acquaint her with the danger of my state; implore her that she make friends with the strict deputy; bid her go herself to Angelo. I have great hopes in that; for she can discourse with prosperous art, and well she can persuade; besides, there is a speechless dialect in youthful sorrow, such as moves men."

Isabel, the sister of Claudio, had, as he said, that day entered upon her noviciate in the convent, and it was her intent, after passing through her probation as a novice, to take the veil, and she was inquiring of a nun concerning the rules of the convent, when they heard the voice of Lucio, who, as he entered that religious house, said, "Peace be in this place!" "Who is it that speaks?" said Isabel. "It is a man's voice," replied the nun: "Gentle Isabel, go to him, and learn his business; you may, I may not. When you have taken the veil, you must not speak with men but in the presence of the prioress; then if you speak, you must not show your face, or if you show your face, you must not speak." "And have you nuns no farther privileges?" said Isabel. "Are not these large enough?" replied the nun. "Yes, truly," said Isabel: "I speak not as desiring more, but rather wishing a more strict restraint upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare." Again they heard the voice of Lucio, and the nun said, "He calls again. I pray you answer him." Isabel then went out to Lucio, and in answer to his salutation, said, "Peace and prosperity! Who is it that calls?" Then Lucio, approaching her with reverence, said, "Hail, virgin, if such you be, as the roses in your cheeks proclaim you are no less! can you bring me to the sight of Isabel, a novice of this place, and the fair sister to her unhappy brother Claudio?" "Why her unhappy brother?" said Isabel, let me ask: for I am that Isabel, and his sister." "Fair and gentle lady," he replied, "your brother kindly greets you by me; he is in prison." "Woe is me! for what?" said Isabel. Lucio then told her, Claudio was imprisoned for seducing a young maiden. "Ah," said she, "I fear it is my cousin Juliet." Juliet and Isabel were not related, but they called each other cousin in remembrance of their school-days' friendship; and as Isabel

knew that Juliet loved Claudio, she feared she had been led by her affection for him into this transgression. "She it is," replied

Lucio. 66 Why then let my brother marry Juliet," said Isabel. Lucio replied, that Claudio would gladly marry Juliet, but that the lord deputy had sentenced him to die for his offence; "Unless,' said he, 66 you have the grace by your fair prayer to soften Angelo, and that is my business between you and your poor brother." "Alas,” said Isabel, "what poor ability is there in me to do him good? I doubt I have no power to move Angelo." "Our doubts are traitors," said Lucio, "and make us lose the good we might often win, by fearing to attempt it. Go to lord Angelo! When maidens sue, and kneel, and weep, men give like gods." " I will see what I can do," said Isabel: I will but stay to give the prioress notice of the affair, and then I will go to Angelo. Commend me to my brother: soon at night I will send him word of my success."

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

Isabel hastened to the palace, and threw herself on her knees before Angelo, saying, "I am a woful suitor to your honour, if it will please your honour to hear me." Well, what is your suit?" said Angelo. She then made her petition in the most moving terms for her brother's life. But Angelo said, "Maiden, there is no remedy: your brother is sentenced, and he must die." "O just, but severe law!" said Isabel: "I had a brother then-Heaven keep your honour!" and she was about to depart. But Lucio, who had accompanied her, said, "Give it not over so; return to him again, entreat him, kneel down before him, hang upon his gown. You are too cold; if you should need a pin, you could not with a more tame tongue desire it." Then again Isabel on her knees implored for mercy. "He is sentenced," said Angelo: "it is too late." "Too late!" said Isabel: "Why, no; I that do speak a word, may call it back again. Believe this, my lord, no ceremony that to great ones belongs, not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, the marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, becomes them with one half so good a grace as mercy does." Pray you begone," said Angelo. But still Isabel entreated; and she said, "If my brother had been as you, and you as he, you might have slipped like him, but he like you would not have been so stern. I would to Heaven I had your power, and you were Isabel. Should it then be thus? No, I would tell you what it were to be a judge, and what a prisoner." "Be content, fair maid!" said Angelo: "it is the law, not I, condemns your brother. Were he my kinsman, my brother, or my son, it should be thus with him. He must die to-morrow." "To-morrow!" said Isabel : "Oh that is sudden: spare him, spare him; he is not

66

« ПретходнаНастави »