Читать книгу Tales and Legends of the English Lakes - Wilson Armistead - Страница 15

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"God prosper long, from being broke,

The 'Luck of Eden Hall!'

A doleful drinking bout I sing,

There lately did befal.

To chase the spleen with cup and cann,

Duke Philip took his way;

Babes yet unborn shall never see

The like of such a day.

The stout and ever-thirsty duke

A vow to God did make;

His pleasure within Cumberland

Those live-long nights to take.

Sir Musgrave, too, of Martindale,

A true and worthy knight;

Estoon with him a bargain made

In drinking to delight.

The bumpers swiftly pass about,

Six in an hand went round;

And, with their calling for more wine,

They made the hall resound.

Now, when these merry tidings reach'd

The Earl of Harold's ears,

And am I, quoth he, with an oath,

Thus slighted by my peers?

Saddle my steed, bring forth my boots,

I'll be with them right quick,

And, master sheriff, come you too,

We'll know this scurvy trick.

Lo, yonder doth Earl Harold come,

Did one at table say:

'Tis well, reply'd the mettl'd Duke,

How will he get away?

When thus the Earl began:—Great Duke,

I'll know how this did chance,

Without inviting me:—sure this

You did not learn in France.

One of us two, for this offence,

Under the board shall lie:

I know thee well; a Duke thou art,

So some years hence shall I.

But trust me, Wharton, pity 'twere

So much good wine to spill,

As those companions here may drink,

Ere they have had their fill.

Let thou and I, in bumpers full,

This grand affair decide,

Accurs'd be he, Duke Wharton said,

By whom it is deny'd.

To Andrews, and to Hotham fair,

Then many a pint went round:

And many a gallant gentleman

Lay sick upon the ground.

When, at the last, the Duke found out

He had the Earl secure,

He ply'd him with a full pint-glass,

Which laid him on the floor.

Who never spake more words than these,

After he downwards sunk;

My worthy friends, revenge my fall,

Duke Wharton sees me drunk.

Then, with a groan, Duke Philip held

The sick man by the joint;

And said, Earl Harold, stead of thee,

Would I had drank this pint.

Alack, my very heart doth bleed,

And doth within me sink!

For surely a more sober Earl

Did never swallow drink.

With that the sheriff, in a rage,

To see the Earl so smit,

Vow'd to revenge the dead-drunk peer

Upon renowned St. Kitt.

Then stepp'd a gallant squire forth,

Of visage thin and pale;

Lloyd was his name, and of Gany Hall,

Fast by the river Swale;

Who said, he would not have it told

Where Eden river ran,

That, unconcerned, he should sit by,

So, sheriff, I'm your man.

Now, when these tidings reach'd the room,

Where the Duke lay in bed,

How that the squire thus suddenly

Upon the floor was laid:

O heavy tidings! quoth the Duke,

Cumberland thou witness be,

I have not any captain, more

Of such account as he.

Like tidings to Earl Thanet came,

Within as short a space,

How that the under sheriff, too,

Was fallen from his place.

Now God be with him, said the Earl,

Sith 'twill no better be;

I trust I have within my town

As drunken knights as he.

Of all the number that were there,

Sir Rains he scorned to yield;

But, with a bumper in his hand,

He stagger'd o'er the field.

Thus did this dare contention end,

And each man of the slain

Were quickly carried off to sleep,

Their senses to regain.

God bless the King, the Duchess fat,

And keep the land in peace;

And grant that drunkenness henceforth

'Mong noblemen may cease!" &c.

J. H. Wiffen wrote a short poem upon the "Luck of Eden Hall," and the German poet, Upland, has a ballad upon the same subject.

The Musgraves are a family of great antiquity and reputation. They came to England with the Conqueror, and settled first in Musgrave, in Westmoreland; then at Hartley Castle, in the same county; and, finally, at their present residence at Eden Hall. Sir Philip Musgrave, who was commander-in-chief of the king's troops for Cumberland and Westmoreland, in the Parliamentary war, just walks across the stage in Scott's legend of Montrose; but, by mistake the novelist calls him Sir Miles.