Page:Traditional Tales of the English and Scottish Peasantry - 1887.djvu/65

Rh whose gift at song, rude and untutored as it was, had obtained him some estimation on the Border, where the strong, lively imagery and familiar diction of the old ballads still maintain their ground against the classic elegance and melody of modern verse. I drew back a little, and, shaking the old man by the hand, said: 'Many years have passed, Harpur Harberson, since I listened to thy minstrel skill at Lanercost; and I thought thou hadst gone, and I should never see thee again. Thy song has lost some of its ancient grace and military glee since thou leftest my father's hall.' Deed, my bonnie lady,' said the Borderer with a voice suppressed and melancholy, while something of his ancient smile brightened his face for a moment, 'sangs of sorrow and dule have been rifer with me than ballads of merriment and mirth. It's long now since I rode and fought by my gallant master's side, when the battle waxed fierce and desperate; and my foot is not so firm in the stirrup now, nor my hand sae steeve at the steel, as it was in those blessed and heroic days. It's altered days with Harpur Harberson since he harped afore the nobles of the North in the home of the gallant Selbys, and won the cup of gold. I heard that my bonnie lady and her gallant cousin were on horseback; so I e'en put my old frail body on a frail horse, to follow where I cannot lead. It's pleasant to mount at the sound of the trumpet again; and it's better for an auld man to fall with a sound of battle in his ear, and be buried in the trench with the brave, and the young, and the noble, than beg his bread from door to door, enduring the scoff and scorn of the vulgar and sordid, and be found, some winter morning, streeked stiff and dead on a hassock of straw in some churl's barn. So I shall e'en ride on, and see the last of a noble and a hopeless cause.' He drew his hat over his brow, while I endeavoured to cheer him by describing the numbers, resources, and strength of the party. And I expressed rather my hope than firm belief when I assured him 'there was little doubt that the house of Selby would lift its head again and flourish, and that the grey hairs of its ancient and faithful minstrel would go down in gladness and glory to the grave.' He shook his head, yet seemed almost willing to believe for a moment, against his own presentiment, in the picture of future glory I had drawn. It was but for a moment. Deed no—'deed no, my bonnie, bonnie lady, it canna—canna be. Glad