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TWO BALLADS FROM THE GERMAN OF BÜRGER

The first publication by Scott was a translation or imitation of two German ballads, and bore the following title-page: "THE CHASE and WILLIAM AND HELEN. Two Ballads from the German of Gottfried Augustus Bürger, Edinburgh: Printed by Mundell and Son, Royal Bank Close, for Manners and Miller, Parliament Square; and sold by T. Cadell, junr, and W. Davies, in the Strand, London, 1796.' It was a thin quarto, and, as seen, did not bear the name of the translator. Scott owed his copy of Bürger's works to the daughter of the Saxon Ambassador at the court of St. James, who had married his kinsman, Mr. Scott of Harden. She interested herself in his German studies and lent him aid in correcting his versions. But the immediate occasion of his translating Bürger was the interest excited in the autumn of 1795 by the reading of William Taylor's unpublished version of Bürger's Lenoré, at a party at Dugald Stewart's, by Mrs. Barbauld, then on a visit to Edinburgh. Scott was not present at the reading, but one of his friends who heard it, told him the story, and repeated the chorus,

'Tramp! tramp! across the land they speede,
Splash splash! across the sea;
Hurrah! the dead can ride apace!
Dost fear to ride with me?'

Scott eagerly laid hold of the original and beginning the task after supper did not go to bed till he had finished it, a good illustration of the impetuosity of his literary labor his life long.

The ballad of The Wild Huntsman (Wilde Jäger) Scott appears to have written to accom

WILLIAM AND HELEN

FROM heavy dreams fair Helen rose,
And eyed the dawning red:
'Alas, my love, thou tarriest long!
O art thou false or dead?'

With gallant Frederick's princely power He sought the bold Crusade,

pany the other ballad for the little volume The book attracted some attention in Edinburgh, where the author was known, but his friends were disappointed that it received slight notice in London, but translations of Lenoré, which had caught the public ear, were abundant enough to keep in tolerable obscurity any single one of them. My adventure,' Scott wrote thirty-six years later, when he was famous, where so many pushed off to sea, proved a dead loss, and a great part of the edition was condemned to the service of the trunkmaker. This failure did not operate in any unpleasant degree either on my feelings or spirits. I was coldly received by strangers, but my reputation began rather to increase among my own friends, and on the whole I was more bent to show the world that it had neglected something worth notice, than to be affronted by its indifference; or rather, to speak candidly, I found pleasure in the literary labors in which I had almost by accident become engaged, and labored less in the hope of pleasing others, though certainly without despair of doing so, than in a pursuit of a new and agreeable amusement to myself.' And this may be taken as the most significant element in Scott's first literary venture, made when he was twenty-five years of age, and fairly started in the practice of law. One other interesting fact connected with the little volume is that James Ballantyne, with whom Scott was to have such momentous relations, reprinted it, at Scott's suggestion, a little enlarged, three years later, in order to show Edinburgh society how well he could print.

But not a word from Judah's wars Told Helen how he sped.

With Paynim and with Saracen

At length a truce was made, And every knight returned to dry The tears his love had shed.

Our gallant host was homeward bound With many a song of joy ;

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'Come with thy choir, thou coffined guest, To swell our nuptial song!

Come, priest, to bless our marriage feast! Come all, come all along!'

Ceased clang and song; down sunk the bier;

The shrouded corpse arose :
And hurry! hurry! all the train
The thundering steed pursues.

And forward! forward! on they go;
High snorts the straining steed;
Thick pants the rider's laboring breath,
As headlong on they speed.

'O William, why this savage haste?
And where thy bridal bed?'
'Tis distant far, low, damp, and chill,
And narrow, trustless maid.'

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170

180

Enough for

Speed, speed, my barb, thy course!'

O'er thundering bridge, through boiling Barb! Barb! I smell the morning air;

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