Or fell but on his idle ear

Like distant sounds which dreamers hear.
Then would he rouse him, and employ
Each art to aid the clamorous joy,
And call for pledge and lay,

And, for brief space, of all the crowd,
As he was loudest of the loud,
Seem gayest of the gay.

III.

Yet nought amiss the bridal throng
Mark'd in brief mirth, or musing long;
The vacant brow, the unlistening ear,
They gave to thoughts of raptures near,
And his fierce starts of sudden glee
Seem'd bursts of bridegroom's ecstasy.
Nor thus alone misjudged the crowd,
Since lofty Lorn, suspicious, proud,
And jealous of his honour'd line,
And that keen knight, De Argentine,
(From England sent on errand high,
The western league more firm to tie,)'

'Sir Egidius, or Giles de Argentine, was one of the most accomplished knights of the period. He had served in the wars of Henry of Luxemburg with such high reputation, that he was, in popular estimation, the third worthy of the age. Those to whom fame assigned precedence over him were, Henry of Luxemburg himself, and Robert Bruce. Argentine had warred in Palestine, encountered thrice with the Saracens, and had slain two antagonists in each engagement:—an easy matter, he said, for one Christian knight to slay two Pagan dogs. His death corresponded with his high character. With Aymer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, he was appointed to attend immediately upon the person of Edward II. at Bannockburn. When the day was

Both deem'd in Ronald's mood to find
A lover's transport-troubled mind.
But one sad heart, one tearful eye,
Pierced deeper through the mystery,
And watch'd, with agony and fear,
Her wayward bridegroom's varied cheer.

IV.

She watch'd-yet fear'd to meet his glance,
And he shunn'd hers;-till when by chance
They met, the point of foeman's lance
Had given a milder pang!

Beneath the intolerable smart

He writhed;—then sternly mann'd his heart
To play his hard but destined part,
And from the table sprang.

utterly lost they forced the king from the field. De Argentine saw the king safe from immediate danger, and then took his leave of him; "God be with you, sir," he said, "it is not my wont to fly." So saying, he turned his horse, cried his war-cry, plunged into the midst of the combatants, and was slain. Baston, a rhyming monk who had been brought by Edward to celebrate his expected triumph, and who was compelled by the victors to compose a poem on his defeat, mentions with some feeling the death of Sir Giles de Argentine:

Nobilis Argenten, pugil inclyte, dulcis Egidi,

Vix scieram mentem cum te succumbere vidi.

"The first line mentions the three chief requisites of a true knight, noble birth, valour, and courteousness. Few Leonine couplets can be produced that have so much sentiment. I wish that I could have collected more ample memorials concerning a character altogether different from modern manners. Sir Giles d'Argentine was a hero of romance in real life." So observes the excellent Lord Hailes.

"Fill me the mighty cup!" he said,
"Erst own'd by royal Somerled:1
Fill it, till on the studded brim
In burning gold the bubbles swim,
And every gem of varied shine
Glow doubly bright in rosy wine!
To you, brave lord, and brother mine,
Of Lorn, this pledge I drink —
The union of Our House with thine,
By this fair bridal-link!"-

V.

"Let it pass round!" quoth He of Lorn, "And in good time- that winded horn Must of the Abbot tell;

The laggard monk is come at last.”
Lord Ronald heard the bugle-blast,
And on the floor at random cast,
The untasted goblet fell.

But when the warder in his ear
Tells other news, his blither cheer
Returns like sun of May,

When through a thunder-cloud it beams!—
Lord of two hundred isles, he seems

As glad of brief delay

As some poor criminal might feel,
When from the gibbet or the wheel
Respited for a day.

VI.

Brother of Lorn," with hurried voice He said, "And you, fair lords, rejoice! Here, to augment our glee,

'[See Appendix, Note E.]

Come wandering knights from travel far,
Well proved, they say, in strife of war,
And tempest on the sea.-

Ho! give them at your board such place
As best their presences may grace,
And bid them welcome free!"

With solemn step, and silver wand,
The Seneschal the presence scann'd
Of these strange guests; and well he knew
How to assign their rank its due;1

For though the costly furs

That erst had deck'd their caps were torn,
And their gay robes were over-worn,

The Sewer, to whom, rather than the Seneschal, the office of arranging the guests of an island chief appertained, was an officer of importance in the family of a Hebridean chief.

66

Every family had commonly two stewards, which, in their language, were called Marischal Tach: the first of these served always at home, and was obliged to be versed in the pedigree of all the tribes in the isles, and in the highlands of Scotland; for it was his province to assign every man at table his seat according to his quality; and this was done without one word speaking, only by drawing a score with a white rod, which this Marischal had in his hand, before the person who was bid by him to sit down and this was necessary to prevent disorder and contention; and though the Marischal might sometimes be mistaken, the master of the family incurred no censure by such an escape but this custom has been laid aside of late. They had also cup cup round the com

bearers, who always filled and carried the pany, and he himself always drank off the first draught. They had likewise purse-masters, who kept their money. Both these officers had an hereditary right to their office in writing, and each of them had a town and land for his service: some of those rights I have seen fairly written on good parchment."— MARTIN'S Western Isles.

And soil'd their gilded spurs,

Yet such a high commanding grace

Was in their mien and in their face,
As suited best the princely dais,'
And royal canopy;

And there he marshall'd them their place,
First of that company.

VII.

Then lords and ladies spake aside,
And angry looks the error chide,
That gave to guests unnamed, unknown,
A place so near their prince's throne;
But Owen Erraught said,

"For forty years a seneschal,

To marshal guests in bower and hall
Has been my honour'd trade.
Worship and birth to me are known,
By look, by bearing, and by tone,
Not by furr'd robe or broider'd zone;
And 'gainst an oaken bough

I'll gage my silver wand of state,

That these three strangers oft have sate
In higher place than now."-

VIII.

"I, too," the aged Ferrand said, "Am qualified by minstrel trade

Of rank and place to tell;

Mark'd ye the younger stranger's eye,

My mates, how quick, how keen, how high,
How fierce its flashes fell,

1Dais-the great hall-table-elevated a step or two above the rest of the room.