Chronicles of the Canongate.

SECOND SERIES.

ST. VALENTINE'S DAY;

OR,

THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH.

(Continued from Page 342.)

Our extracts from this admirable tale are now drawing to a close; but before we wind up the story of Henry Gow and the Fair maid, we must indulge our readers with the following scene between Oliver Proudfute, and Harry Gow, which in its spirit and humour approaches more nearly to the quaintness and racy humour of our immortal Shakspeare than modern writing has ever before approached.

We have let our readers know somewhat already of Mister Oliver Proudfute, the bonnet maker: of his ambition to distinguish himself in "arms," and of his pretensions to being "cunning at fence;" Oliver has been set upon by some uproarious spirits disguised as maskVOL. I. 2 A

ers, who force him to swallow a huge calabash of sack, which he gulps with many a wry face; they then bestow on him the honour of knighthood, but half fracture his shoulder-blade in laying on him the sword of honour The bonnetmaker's vaunted valour forsakes him, and finding himself thus at odds, he thinks it as well to follow after it; and, accelerated by the laugh and halloo behind him, arrives at the Smith's door before he stops, where he knocks loudly for admittance.

"No one answered to his first knock, and perhaps, as these recollections arose, in the momentary pause of recollection which circumstances permitted, the perplexed Bonnet-maker might have flinched from his purpose, and made his retreat to his own premises, without venturing upon the interview which he had purposed. But a distant strain of minstrelsy revived his apprehensions of falling once more into the hands of the gay maskers from whom he had escaped, and he renewed his summons on the door of the Smith's dwelling, with a hurried, though faltering hand. He was then appalled by the 23-SATURDAY, JUNE 14, 1828.

and for the love of Our blessed Lady, admit me, Henry, if you would not have me found a bloody corpse at thy door, slain by the bloody-minded Douglasses!'

"That would be a shame to me,' thought the good-natured Smith; and sooth to say, his peril may be real. There are roving hawks that will strike at a sparrow as soon as a heron.'

"With these reflections, half-muttered half-spoken, Henry undid his well-fastened door, proposing to reconnoitre the reality of the danger before he permitted his unwelcome guest to enter the house. But as he looked abroad to ascertain how matters stood, Oliver bolted in like a scared deer into a thicket, and harboured himself by the Smith's kitchen-fire, before Henry could look up and down the lane, and satisfy himself there were no enemies in pursuit of the apprehensive fugitive. He secured his door, therefore, and returned into the kitchen, displeased that he had suffered his gloomy solitude to be intruded upon by sympathizing with apprehensions, which he thought he might have known were so easily excited as those of his timid townsman."

Nay, if that be all," said Henry, it shall not be lacking. But it must have been much which brought thee to the pass of asking for either.'

So saying, he filled a quart flagon from a barrel that stood nigh, and presented it to his guest. Oliver eagerly accepted it, raised it to his head with a trembling hand, imbibed the contents with lips which quivered with emotion, and, though the potation was as thin as he had requested, so much was he exhausted with the combined fears of alarm and of former revelry, that when he placed the flagon on the oak table, he uttered a deep sigh of satisfaction, and remained silent.

what

66 Well, now you have had your draught, gossip,' said the Smith, is it you want? Where are those that threatened you? I could see no one.'

No-but there were twenty chased me into the wynd,' said Oliver. But when they saw us together, you know they lost the courage that brought all of them upon one of us.'

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Nay, do not trifle, friend Oliver,' replied his host; my mood lies not that way.'

I jest not, by St. John of Perth. I have been stayed and foully outraged, (gliding his hand sensitively over the place affected) by mad Robin of Rothsay roaring Ramorny, and the rest of them. They made me drink a firkin of Malvoisie.'

"Thou speakest folly, man-Ramorny is sick nigh to death, as the pottercarrier every-where reports; they and he cannot surely rise at midnight to do such frolics.'

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Nay, but I have things to speak with thee about of moment,' replied Oliver, who, afraid to stay, seemed yet unwilling to go. There has been a stir in our city council about the affair of St. Valentine's Even. The Provost told me not four hours since, that the Douglas and he had agreed that the feud should be decided by yeoman on either part, and that our acquaintance, the Devil's Dick, was to waive his gentry, and take up the cause for Douglas and the nobles, and that you or I should fight for the Fair City. Now, though I am the elder burgess, yet I am willing, for the love and kindness we have always borne to each other, to give thee the precedence, and content myself with the humbler office of stickler.'

"Henry Smith, though angry, could scarce forbear a smile.

"If it is that which breaks thy quiet, and keeps thee out of thy bed at midnight I will make the matter easy. Thou shalt not lose the advantage offered thee. I have fought a score of duels, far, far too many. Thou hast I think, only encountered with thy wooden Soldan-it were unjust-unfair

unkind-in me to abuse thy friendly offer. So go home, good fellow, and let not the fear of losing honour disturb thy slumbers. Rest assured that thou shalt answer the challenge, as good right thou hast, having had injury from this roughrider.'

"Gramercy, and thank thee kindly,' said Oliver, much embarrassed by his friend's unexpected deference; thou art the good friend I have always thought thee. But I have as much friendship for Henry Smith, as he for Oliver Proudfute. I swear by St. John, I will not fight in this quarrel to thy prejudice. So, having said so, I am beyond the reach of tempta

"Nay, good gossip,' replied the Bonnet-maker, thou knowest I am never afraid. But, in sooth, this is a desperate ruffian; and as I have a wife poor Maudie, thou knowest-and a small family, and thou——’

"And I,' interrupted Henry, hastily, 'have none, and never shall have.'.

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Why, truly,-such being the case -I would rather thou fought'st this combat than I.'

"Now, by our holidame, gossip,' answered the Smith, thou art easily gulled. Know, thou silly fellow, that Sir Patrick Charteris, who is ever a merry man, hath but jested with thee. Dost thou think he would venture the honour of the city on thy head? or that I would yield thee the precedence in which such a matter was to be disputed? Lacka-day, go home, let Maudie tie a warm night-cap on thy head; get thee a warm breakfast, and a cup of distilled waters, and thou wilt be in case to-morrow to fight with thy wooden dromond, or Soldan as thou call'st him, the only thing thou wilt ever lay downright blow upon.'

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Ay, say'st thou so, comrade?' answered Oliver, much relieved, yet deeming it necessary to seem in part of fended. I care not for thy dogged humour; it is well for thee thou canst not wake my patience to the point of falling foul. Enough-we are gossips, and this house is thine. Why should the two best blades in Perth clash with each other? What! I know thy rugged humour, and can forgive it.-But is the feud really soldered up?'

"As completely as ever hammer fixed rivet,' said the Smith. The town hath given the Johnston a purse of gold, for not ridding them of a troublesome fellow called Oliver Proudfute, when he had him at his mercy; and this purse of gold buys for the Provost the Sleepless Isle, which the King grants him, for the King pays all in the long run. And thus Sir Patrick gets the comely Inch, which is opposite to his dwelling, and all honour is saved on both sides, for what is given to the Provost, is given, you understand, to the town. Besides all this, the Douglas has left Perth to march against the Southron, whom men say are called into the Marches by the false Earl of March. So the Fair City is quit of him and his

cumber.

"But, in St. John's name, how came all that about?' said Oliver; and no one spoken to about it?'

The

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"No more of that, if thou be'st wise-There are laws against striking princes,' said the Smith, best not handle the horse-shoe till it cools. All is hushed up now.'

"If this be so,' said Oliver, partly disconcerted, but still more relieved, by the intelligence he received from his better informed friend, I have reason to complain of Sir Patrick Charteris for jesting with the honour of an honest burgess, being as he is, Provost of our town.'

"Do, Oliver; challenge him to the field, and he will bid his yeoman loose his dogs on thee.-But come, night wears apace, will you be shogging?'

Nay, I had one word more to say to thee, good gossip. But first, another cup of your cold ale.'

Thou Pest on the, for a fool! makest me wish thee where cold liquors are a scarce comodity.-There, swill the barrelful an thou wilt.'

"Oliver took the second flagon, but drank, or rather seemed to drink, very slowly in order to gain time for considering how he should introduce his second subject of conversation, which seemed rather delicate for the Smith's present state of irritability. At length, nothing better occurred to him than to plunge into the subject at once, with, I have seen Simon Glover to-day, gossip.'

"Well,' said the Smith, in a low, deep, and stern tone of voice, and if thou hast, what is that to me?'

Nothing-nothing,' answered the appalled Bonnet-maker. Only I thought you might like to know that he questioned me close, if I had seen the on St. Valentine's day, after the uproar at the Dominicans', and in what company thou

wert.

"And I warrant thou told'st him that thou met'st me with a glee-woman, in the mirk loaning yonder?"

"Thou know'st, Henry, I have no gift at lying, but I made it all up with him.'

"As how, I pray you?' said the Sinith.

"Marry, thus,-Father Simon, said I, you are an old man, and know not the quality of us, in whose veins, youth is like quicksilver. You think now, he cares about this girl, said I, and, perhaps, that he has her somewhere here in Perth, in a corner? No such matter; I know, said I, and I will make oath to it, that she left his house early next morning for Dundee. Ha! have I helped thee at need?'

“Truly, I think thou hast, and if anything could add to iny grief and vexa¬ tion at this moment, it is, that when I am so deep in the mire, an ass like thee should place his clumsy hoof on my head, to sink me entirely. Come, away with thee and mayst thou have such merit as thy meddling humour deserves, and then, I think, thou wilt be found with a broken neck in the next gutter-Come, get you out, or I will put you to the door with head and shoulders forward.'

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ped out from the entrance of the wynd, where it communicated with the High Street, he received a blow from behind, against which his head-piece was no defence, and he fell dead upon the spot; an attempt to utter the name of Henry, to whom he always looked for protection, quivering upon his dying tongue.”

*

The accoutrements of war in which his body is found, give rise to a rumour throughout Perth, that it is Henry Smith who has come by "the death." Our readers are already acquainted with the incidents which follow upon this rumour. At a convocation of the citizens, the death of Oliver is discussed, and the honour of the city is to be maintained against the villain who dealt the deadly blow, a ruffian named Bonthron, in the service of Ramorny. The widow of the bonnetmaker enters among the assembly, and after some points of ceremony are gone through, she is commanded to name her champion.

"All eyes were turned to Henry Smith whom the general voice had already pointed out as in every respect the fittest to act as champion on the occasion. But the widow waited not for the general prompting of their looks. As soon as Sir Patrick had spoken, she crossed the floor to the place where, near the bottom of the table, the armourer stood among the men of his degree, and took him by the hand :

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Henry Gow, or Smith,' she said, good burgher and craftsman, my

Take all, or any thing thou wilt, in the fiend's name! only be gone.'

I never see thy cox

"Well, well, Hal, we shall meet when thou art in better humour,' said Oliver, who had put on the dress. "Go-and may combly face again.' "Öliver at last relieved his host by swaggering off, imitating, as well as he could, the sturdy step and outward esture of his redoubted companion, and whistling a pibroch, composed on the rout of the Danes at Loncarty, which he had picked up from its being a favourite of the Smith's, whom he made a point of imitating as far as he could. But as he innocent, though conceited fellow, step

"Husband, she would have said, but the word would not come forth; she was obliged to change the expression.

"He who is gone, loved and prized you over all men; therefore meet it is that thou shouldst follow out the quarrel of his widow and orphans.'

"If there had been a possibility, which in that age there was not, of Henry's rejecting or escaping from a trust for which all men seemed to destine him, every wish and idea of retreat was cut off, when the widow began to address him; and a command from Heaven could hardly have made a stronger impression than did the appeal of the unfortunate Magdalen. Her allusion to his intimacy with the deceased moved him to the soul. During Oliver's life, doubtless, there had been a strain of absurdity in his excessive predilection for Henry, which, considering how very different they were in character, had in it something ludicrous. But all this was now forgotten, and Henry, giving way

* See the illustrated article in our last.