CHAPTER V.
Up! lady fair, and braid thy hair, And rouse thee in the breezy air, Up! quit thy bower, late wears the hour, Long have the rooks caw'd round the tower.
JOANNA BAILLIE.
Startled from her repose by the noise of the affray, the Fair Maid ofPerth had listened in breathless terror to the sounds of violence andoutcry which arose from the street. She had sunk on her knees to prayfor assistance, and when she distinguished the voices of neighbours andfriends collected for her protection, she remained in the same postureto return thanks. She was still kneeling when her father almost thrusther champion, Henry Smith, into her apartment; the bashful lover hangingback at first, as if afraid to give offence, and, on observing herposture, from respect to her devotion.
"Father," said the armourer, "she prays; I dare no more speak to herthan to a bishop when he says mass."
"Now, go thy ways, for a right valiant and courageous blockhead," saidher father--and then speaking to his daughter, he added, "Heaven is bestthanked, my daughter, by gratitude shown to our fellow creatures. Herecomes the instrument by whom God has rescued thee from death, or perhapsfrom dishonour worse than death. Receive him, Catharine, as thy trueValentine, and him whom I desire to see my affectionate son."
"Not thus--father," replied Catharine. "I can see--can speak to no onenow. I am not ungrateful--perhaps I am too thankful to the instrument ofour safety; but let me thank the guardian saint who sent me this timelyrelief, and give me but a moment to don my kirtle."
"Nay, God-a-mercy, wench, it were hard to deny thee time to busk thybody clothes, since the request is the only words like a woman that thouhast uttered for these ten days. Truly, son Harry, I would my daughterwould put off being entirely a saint till the time comes for her beingcanonised for St. Catherine the Second."
"Nay, jest not, father; for I will swear she has at least one sincereadorer already, who hath devoted himself to her pleasure, so far assinful man may. Fare thee well, then, for the moment, fair maiden," heconcluded, raising his voice, "and Heaven send thee dreams as peacefulas thy waking thoughts. I go to watch thy slumbers, and woe with himthat shall intrude on them!"
"Nay, good and brave Henry, whose warm heart is at such variance withthy reckless hand, thrust thyself into no farther quarrels tonight;but take the kindest thanks, and with these, try to assume the peacefulthoughts which you assign to me. Tomorrow we will meet, that I mayassure you of my gratitude. Farewell."
"And farewell, lady and light of my heart!" said the armourer, and,descending the stair which led to Catharine's apartment, was about tosally forth into the street, when the glover caught him by the arm.
"I shall like the ruffle of tonight," said he, "better than I everthought to do the clashing of steel, if it brings my daughter to hersenses, Harry, and teaches her what thou art worth. By St. Macgrider!I even love these roysterers, and am sorry for that poor lover who willnever wear left handed chevron again. Ay! he has lost that which he willmiss all the days of his life, especially when he goes to pull on hisgloves; ay, he will pay but half a fee to my craft in future. Nay, nota step from this house tonight," he continued "Thou dost not leave us, Ipromise thee, my son."
"I do not mean it. But I will, with your permission, watch in thestreet. The attack may be renewed."
"And if it be," said Simon, "thou wilt have better access to drive themback, having the vantage of the house. It is the way of fighting whichsuits us burghers best--that of resisting from behind stone walls. Ourduty of watch and ward teaches us that trick; besides, enough are awakeand astir to ensure us peace and quiet till morning. So come in thisway."
So saying, he drew Henry, nothing loth, into the same apartment wherethey had supped, and where the old woman, who was on foot, disturbed asothers had been by the nocturnal affray, soon roused up the fire.
"And now, my doughty son," said the glover, "what liquor wilt thoupledge thy father in?"
Henry Smith had suffered himself to sink mechanically upon a seat of oldblack oak, and now gazed on the fire, that flashed back a ruddy lightover his manly features. He muttered to himself half audibly: "GoodHenry--brave Henry. Ah! had she but said, dear Henry!"
"What liquors be these?" said the old glover, laughing. "My cellar holdsnone such; but if sack, or Rhenish, or wine of Gascony can serve, why,say the word and the flagon foams, that is all."
"The kindest thanks," said the armourer, still musing, "that's morethan she ever said to me before--the kindest thanks--what may not thatstretch to?"
"It shall stretch like kid's leather, man," said the glover, "ifthou wilt but be ruled, and say what thou wilt take for thy morning'sdraught."
"Whatever thou wilt, father," answered the armourer, carelessly, andrelapsed into the analysis of Catharine's speech to him. "She spokeof my warm heart; but she also spoke of my reckless hand. What earthlything can I do to get rid of this fighting fancy? Certainly I were beststrike my right hand off, and nail it to the door of a church, that itmay never do me discredit more."
"You have chopped off hands enough for one night," said his friend,setting a flagon of wine on the table. "Why dost thou vex thyself, man?She would love thee twice as well did she not see how thou doatest uponher. But it becomes serious now. I am not to have the risk of my boothbeing broken and my house plundered by the hell raking followers of thenobles, because she is called the Fair Maid of Perth, an't please ye.No, she shall know I am her father, and will have that obedience towhich law and gospel give me right. I will have her thy wife, Henry, myheart of gold--thy wife, my man of mettle, and that before many weeksare over. Come--come, here is to thy merry bridal, jolly smith."
The father quaffed a large cup, and filled it to his adopted son,who raised it slowly to his head; then, ere it had reached his lips,replaced it suddenly on the table and shook his head.
"Nay, if thou wilt not pledge me to such a health, I know no one whowill," said Simon. "What canst thou mean, thou foolish lad? Here has achance happened, which in a manner places her in thy power, since fromone end of the city to the other all would cry fie on her if she shouldsay thee nay. Here am I, her father, not only consenting to the cuttingout of the match, but willing to see you two as closely unitedtogether as ever needle stitched buckskin. And with all this on thyside--fortune, father, and all--thou lookest like a distracted loverin a ballad, more like to pitch thyself into the Tay than to woo a lassthat may be had for the asking, if you can but choose the lucky minute."
"Ay, but that lucky minute, father? I question much if Catharine everhas such a moment to glance on earth and its inhabitants as might leadher to listen to a coarse ignorant borrel man like me. I cannot tellhow it is, father; elsewhere I can hold up my head like another man, butwith your saintly daughter I lose heart and courage, and I cannot helpthinking that it would be well nigh robbing a holy shrine if I couldsucceed in surprising her affections. Her thoughts are too much fittedfor Heaven to be wasted on such a one as I am."
"E'en as you like, Henry," answered the glover. "My daughter is notcourting you any more than I am--a fair offer is no cause offend; onlyif you think that I will give in to her foolish notions of a convent,take it with you that I will never listen to them. I love and honourthe church," he said, crossing himself, "I pay her rights duly andcheerfully--tithes and alms, wine and wax, I pay them as justly, I say,as any man in Perth of my means doth--but I cannot afford the church myonly and single ewe lamb that I have in the world. Her mother was dearto me on earth, and is now an angel in Heaven. Catharine is all I haveto remind me of her I have lost; and if she goes to the cloister, itshall be when these old eyes are closed for ever, and not sooner. Butas for you, friend Gow, I pray you will act according to your own bestliking, I want to force no wife on you, I promise you."
"Nay, now you beat the iron twice over," said Henry. "It is thus wealways end, father, by your being testy with me for not doing thatthing in the world which would make me happiest, were I to have it in mypower. Why, father, I would the keenest dir
k I ever forged were stickingin my heart at this moment if there is one single particle in it thatis not more your daughter's property than my own. But what can I do? Icannot think less of her, or more of myself, than we both deserve; andwhat seems to you so easy and certain is to me as difficult as it wouldbe to work a steel hauberk out of bards of flax. But here is to you,father," he added, in a more cheerful tone; "and here is to my fairsaint and Valentine, as I hope your Catharine will be mine for theseason. And let me not keep your old head longer from the pillow, butmake interest with your featherbed till daybreak; and then you must bemy guide to your daughter's chamber door, and my apology for enteringit, to bid her good morrow, for the brightest that the sun will awaken,in the city or for miles round."
"No bad advice, my son," said the honest glover, "But you, what will youdo? Will you lie down beside me, or take a part of Conachar's bed?"
"Neither," answered Harry Gow; "I should but prevent your rest, andfor me this easy chair is worth a down bed, and I will sleep like asentinel, with my graith about me." As he spoke, he laid his hand on hissword.
"Nay, Heaven send us no more need of weapons. Goodnight, or rather goodmorrow, till day peep; and the first who wakes calls up the other."
Thus parted the two burghers. The glover retired to his bed, and, itis to be supposed, to rest. The lover was not so fortunate. His bodilyframe easily bore the fatigue which he had encountered in the course ofthe night, but his mind was of a different and more delicate mould. Inone point of view, he was but the stout burgher of his period, proudalike of his art in making weapons and wielding them when made; hisprofessional jealousy, personal strength, and skill in the use of armsbrought him into many quarrels, which had made him generally feared,and in some instances disliked. But with these qualities were united thesimple good nature of a child, and at the same time an imaginative andenthusiastic temper, which seemed little to correspond with his laboursat the forge or his combats in the field. Perhaps a little of the harebrained and ardent feeling which he had picked out of old ballads, orfrom the metrical romances, which were his sole source of informationor knowledge, may have been the means of pricking him on to some ofhis achievements, which had often a rude strain of chivalry in them; atleast, it was certain that his love to the fair Catharine had in it adelicacy such as might have become the squire of low degree, who washonoured, if song speaks truth, with the smiles of the King of Hungary'sdaughter. His sentiments towards her were certainly as exalted as ifthey had been fixed upon an actual angel, which made old Simon, andothers who watched his conduct, think that his passion was too highand devotional to be successful with maiden of mortal mould. They weremistaken, however. Catharine, coy and reserved as she was, had a heartwhich could feel and understand the nature and depth of the armourer'spassion; and whether she was able to repay it or not, she had as muchsecret pride in the attachment of the redoubted Henry Gow as a ladyof romance may be supposed to have in the company of a tame lion, whofollows to provide for and defend her. It was with sentiments of themost sincere gratitude that she recollected, as she awoke at dawn, theservices of Henry during the course of the eventful night, and the firstthought which she dwelt upon was the means of making him understand herfeelings.
Arising hastily from bed, and half blushing at her own purpose--"I havebeen cold to him, and perhaps unjust; I will not be ungrateful," shesaid to herself, "though I cannot yield to his suit. I will not waittill my father compels me to receive him as my Valentine for the year:I will seek him out, and choose him myself. I have thought other girlsbold when they did something like this; but I shall thus best please myfather, and but discharge the rites due to good St. Valentine by showingmy gratitude to this brave man."
Hastily slipping on her dress, which, nevertheless, was left a good dealmore disordered than usual, she tripped downstairs and opened the doorof the chamber, in which, as she had guessed, her lover had passed thehours after the fray. Catharine paused at the door, and became halfafraid of executing her purpose, which not only permitted but enjoinedthe Valentines of the year to begin their connexion with a kiss ofaffection. It was looked upon as a peculiarly propitious omen if the oneparty could find the other asleep, and awaken him or her by performanceof this interesting ceremony.
Never was a fairer opportunity offered for commencing this mystictie than that which now presented itself to Catharine. After many andvarious thoughts, sleep had at length overcome the stout armourer in thechair in which he had deposited himself. His features, in repose, hada more firm and manly cast than Catharine had thought, who, havinggenerally seen them fluctuating between shamefacedness and apprehensionof her displeasure, had been used to connect with them some idea ofimbecility.
"He looks very stern," she said; "if he should be angry? And then whenhe awakes--we are alone--if I should call Dorothy--if I should wake myfather? But no! it is a thing of custom, and done in all maidenly andsisterly love and honour. I will not suppose that Henry can misconstrueit, and I will not let a childish bashfulness put my gratitude tosleep."
So saying, she tripped along the floor of the apartment with a light,though hesitating, step; and a cheek crimsoned at her own purpose; andgliding to the chair of the sleeper, dropped a kiss upon his lips aslight as if a rose leaf had fallen on them. The slumbers must have beenslight which such a touch could dispel, and the dreams of the sleepermust needs have been connected with the cause of the interruption,since Henry, instantly starting up, caught the maiden in his arms, andattempted to return in ecstasy the salute which had broken his repose.But Catharine struggled in his embrace; and as her efforts impliedalarmed modesty rather than maidenly coyness, her bashful lover sufferedher to escape a grasp from which twenty times her strength could nothave extricated her.
"Nay, be not angry, good Henry," said Catharine, in the kindest tone, toher surprised lover. "I have paid my vows to St. Valentine, to show howI value the mate which he has sent me for the year. Let but my fatherbe present, and I will not dare to refuse thee the revenge you may claimfor a broken sleep."
"Let not that be a hinderance," said the old glover, rushing in ecstasyinto the room; "to her, smith--to her: strike while the iron is hot, andteach her what it is not to let sleeping dogs lie still."
Thus encouraged, Henry, though perhaps with less alarming vivacity,again seized the blushing maiden in his arms, who submitted with atolerable grace to receive repayment of her salute, a dozen timesrepeated, and with an energy very different from that which had provokedsuch severe retaliation. At length she again extricated herself fromher lover's arms, and, as if frightened and repenting what she had done,threw herself into a seat, and covered her face with her hands.
"Cheer up, thou silly girl," said her father, "and be not ashamed thatthou hast made the two happiest men in Perth, since thy old father isone of them. Never was kiss so well bestowed, and meet it is that itshould be suitably returned. Look up, my darling! look up, and let mesee thee give but one smile. By my honest word, the sun that now risesover our fair city shows no sight that can give me greater pleasure.What," he continued, in a jocose tone, "thou thoughtst thou hadst JamieKeddie's ring, and couldst walk invisible? but not so, my fairy of thedawning. Just as I was about to rise, I heard thy chamber door open, andwatched thee downstairs, not to protect thee against this sleepy headedHenry, but to see with my own delighted eyes my beloved girl do thatwhich her father most wished. Come, put down these foolish hands,and though thou blushest a little, it will only the better grace St.Valentine's morn, when blushes best become a maiden's cheek."
As Simon Glover spoke, he pulled away, with gentle violence, the handswhich hid his daughter's face. She blushed deeply indeed, but there wasmore than maiden's shame in her face, and her eyes were fast fillingwith tears.
"What! weeping, love?" continued her father; "nay--nay, this is morethan need. Henry, help me to comfort this little fool."
Catharine made an effort to collect herself and to smile, but the smilewas of a melancholy and serious cast.
"I on
ly meant to say, father," said the Fair Maid of Perth, withcontinued exertion, "that in choosing Henry Gow for my Valentine, andrendering to him the rights and greeting of the morning, according towonted custom, I meant but to show my gratitude to him for his manlyand faithful service, and my obedience to you. But do not lead him tothink--and, oh, dearest father, do not yourself entertain an idea--thatI meant more than what the promise to be his faithful and affectionateValentine through the year requires of me."
"Ay--ay----ay--ay, we understand it all," said Simon, in the soothingtone which nurses apply to children. "We understand what the meaningis; enough for once--enough for once. Thou shalt not be frightened orhurried. Loving, true, and faithful Valentines are ye, and the rest asHeaven and opportunity shall permit. Come, prithee, have done: wringnot thy tiny hands, nor fear farther persecution now. Thou hast donebravely, excellently. And now, away to Dorothy, and call up the oldsluggard; we must have a substantial breakfast, after a night ofconfusion and a morning of joy, and thy hand will be needed to preparefor us some of these delicate cakes which no one can make but thyself;and well hast thou a right to the secret, seeing who taught it thee. Ah!health to the soul of thy dearest mother," he added, with a sigh; "howblythe would she have been to see this happy St. Valentine's morning!"
Catharine took the opportunity of escape which was thus given her, andglided from the room. To Henry it seemed as if the sun had disappearedfrom the heaven at midday, and left the world in sudden obscurity. Eventhe high swelled hopes with which the late incident had filled him beganto quail, as he reflected upon her altered demeanour--the tears in hereyes, the obvious fear which occupied her features, and the painsshe had taken to show, as plainly as delicacy would permit, that theadvances which she had made to him were limited to the character withwhich the rites of the day had invested him. Her father looked on hisfallen countenance with something like surprise and displeasure.
"In the name of good St. John, what has befallen you, that makes youlook as grave as an owl, when a lad of your spirit, having really sucha fancy for this poor girl as you pretend, ought to be as lively as alark?"
"Alas, father!" replied the crestfallen lover, "there is that writtenon her brow which says she loves me well enough to be my Valentine,especially since you wish it, but not well enough to be my wife."
"Now, a plague on thee for a cold, downhearted goosecap," answered thefather. "I can read a woman's brow as well, and better, than thou, andI can see no such matter on hers. What, the foul fiend, man! there thouwast lying like a lord in thy elbow chair, as sound asleep as a judge,when, hadst thou been a lover of any spirit, thou wouldst have beenwatching the east for the first ray of the sun. But there thou layest,snoring I warrant, thinking nought about her, or anything else; and thepoor girl rises at peep of day, lest any one else should pick up hermost precious and vigilant Valentine, and wakes thee with a gracewhich--so help me, St. Macgrider!--would have put life in an anvil; andthou awakest to hone, and pine, and moan, as if she had drawn a hot ironacross thy lips! I would to St. John she had sent old Dorothy on theerrand, and bound thee for thy Valentine service to that bundle of drybones, with never a tooth in her head. She were fittest Valentine inPerth for so craven a wooer."
"As to craven, father," answered the smith, "there are twenty goodcocks, whose combs I have plucked, can tell thee if I am craven orno. And Heaven knows that I would give my good land, held by burgess'tenure, with smithy, bellows, tongs, anvil, and all, providing it wouldmake your view of the matter the true one. But it is not of her coynessor her blushes that I speak; it is of the paleness which so soonfollowed the red, and chased it from her cheeks; and it is of thetears which succeeded. It was like the April showers stealing upon andobscuring the fairest dawning that ever beamed over the Tay."
"Tutti taitti," replied the glover; "neither Rome nor Perth were builtin a day. Thou hast fished salmon a thousand times, and mightst havetaken a lesson. When the fish has taken the fly, to pull a hard strainon the line would snap the tackle to pieces, were it made of wire. Easeyour hand, man, and let him rise; take leisure, and in half an hour thoulayest him on the bank. There is a beginning as fair as you could wish,unless you expect the poor wench to come to thy bedside as she did tothy chair; and that is not the fashion of modest maidens. But observeme; after we have had our breakfast, I will take care thou hast anopportunity to speak thy mind; only beware thou be neither too backwardnor press her too hard. Give her line enough, but do not slack too fast,and my life for yours upon the issue."
"Do what I can, father," answered Henry, "you will always lay the blameon me--either that I give too much head or that I strain the tackle.I would give the best habergeon I ever wrought, that the difficulty intruth rested with me, for there were then the better chance of its beingremoved. I own, however, I am but an ass in the trick of bringing aboutsuch discourse as is to the purpose for the occasion."
"Come into the booth with me, my son, and I will furnish thee with afitting theme. Thou knowest the maiden who ventures to kiss a sleepingman wins of him a pair of gloves. Come to my booth; thou shalt have apair of delicate kid skin that will exactly suit her hand and arm. Iwas thinking of her poor mother when I shaped them," added honest Simon,with a sigh; "and except Catharine, I know not the woman in Scotlandwhom they would fit, though I have measured most of the high beauties ofthe court. Come with me, I say, and thou shalt be provided with a themeto wag thy tongue upon, providing thou hast courage and caution to standby thee in thy wooing."