CHAPTER IV.

_Our Hero pays his first Visit to his Grandfather. The congratulatory Lay of the Minstrel._

The next morning Robert de Lancaster rose with the sun. From the window of his chamber he cast his eyes over that grand and beautiful expanse of country, which the proud and lofty site of his castle overpeered. It was the first sun, that had risen on his new-born hope, and the splendour, which that glorious luminary diffused over the animating scenery under his survey, was to a mind like his peculiarly auspicious and impressive: his bosom glowed with pious gratitude to the Supreme Dispenser of those blessings--It is too much, all-bounteous Being, he exclaimed, too much for sinful man! I am not worthy of such goodness.

He summoned his servant, and being informed that the night had passed well with Mrs. De Lancaster, he desired the child might be brought to him: his wish was speedily obeyed. He stood for some time intently gazing on the countenance of his grandchild, and at length pronounced it to be a perfect model of infantine beauty, open and ingenuous, every thing in short that his warmest wishes could have pictured.

I perceive, cried he, and can decypher the hand-writing of nature in the expressive lineaments of this lovely babe: if God, who gave him life, shall in his mercy give him length of days, he will be an honour to his name and an ornament to his country.

He is a sweet pretty puppet, said the nurse.

Pooh! cried the prophet, I am not speaking of what he is, I am telling what he will be. I prognosticate that he will be brave, benevolent, and virtuous--

And handsome and tall and well-shaped, re-echoed the loquacious dame; only look what fine straight limbs he has, pretty fellow!

Take yourself away with him! cried De Lancaster in displeasure. You have interrupted me with your chatter, and the continuity of those thoughts, which spontaneously presented themselves, is no more to be resumed.

The nurse departed, dancing the child in her arms, and prattling to it in her way, unconscious of the offence she had committed, whilst De Lancaster, pacing up and down his room, in vain attempted to find that place in the book of fate, from which her untimely gabble had caused him to break off--It is lost, said he to himself; I can only discern bright gleams of virtuous happiness, but not unclouded, not without those darkening shadows, that denounce misfortune.--Heaven forbid my father’s fate should be this infant’s portion with my father’s name!

He ceased; sate down, and, whilst the tear hung on his cheek, silently put up an unpremeditated prayer.

It was his custom every morning after he had dressed himself for the day to be attended by his bard David Williams, and it was now the hour for the old man to present himself with his harp at the door of his patron’s chamber: whilst he was in it, all approach was interdicted; the mind of De Lancaster seemed in a peculiar manner to sympathize with the melody of the harp: he had not only a national predilection for that instrument in common with his countrymen of the principality, but professed an hereditary attachment to it as a true De Lancaster, whose ancestors had worn it on their shields from the days of King Bardus. He had now heard the signal, that announced the morning visit of his minstrel, but a doubt struck him whether he could admit him to perform without hazarding an infringement upon his own order for general silence throughout the castle, as recommended by the sage Llewellyn: whilst pausing upon this dilemma it luckily occurred to his recollection, that there was a piano as well as a forte upon his favourite instrument, and furthermore, that the apartment of his daughter-in-law was at the greatest possible distance from his own; balancing these considerations in his mind, the good man became satisfied upon the point in doubt so far, that David was allowed to enter, and perform his morning serenade under suitable restrictions.

There was a stool, on which Williams always sate during his performances, and an easy chair, in which the patron reposed himself, and indulged his silent meditations. By signals audibly given, on the arms of the aforesaid chair the blind musician was directed to modulate the character and spirit of his movements, so as to correspond and accord with the movements of the hearer’s mind. It was a communication without language, perfectly well understood by the performer, who no sooner heard the signal for soft music than he began a prelude so exquisitely tender, that the strings only whispered under his fingers, till at length being filled with the inspiration of his muse, he broke forth extemporaneously into the following strains--

“Shine forth, bright sun, and gild the day, “That greets our new-born hope with light! “Give me to feel thy cheering ray, “Tho’ these dark orbs are wrapt in night.

“Yet Heav’n in pity hath allow’d “These hands to wake the tuneful string, “The muse her influence hath bestow’d, “And taught her sightless bard to sing.

“Sound then, my harp, thy softest strain, “Melodious solace of the blind! “Airs, that may heal a mother’s pain, “And sooth a father’s anxious mind!

“Hush, hush! for now the infant sleeps-- “Let no rude string disturb its rest; “And lo! instinctively it creeps “To nestle at its parent breast.

“Ah luckless me! these curtain’d eyes “Shall never view its lovely face; “I ne’er must see that star arise, “The day-spring of an ancient race.

“Father of life, in mercy take “This infant to thy nursing care, “And for the virtuous grandsire’s sake “Oh! hear the humble minstrel’s pray’r!

“Grant that this babe, as yet the last “Of Lancaster’s time-honour’d name, “When coming ages shall have past, “May rank amongst the first in fame!”

Thou hast sung well, David Williams, said the patron, as soon as the harp had ceased, and I command thee to accept, and wear upon thy finger, this antique beryl, upon which is engraved a head of the poet Homer, thy prototype in melody not less than in misfortune. Thy muse, old man, hath not been unpropitious: go thy way therefore, and cherish thy spirit with the best flask of metheglin, that my cellars afford. I know it is thy favourite Helicon, which at once gives nerves to thy fingers, and nourishment to thy fancy. Get thee hence, blind bard, and be merry!

Old David devoutly drew the ring on his finger, and with a profound obeisance replied--I thank you and I bless you, my munificent patron. I will drink prosperity to the illustrious house of De Lancaster and the new-born heir thereof. It has stood from the time when the old world was deluged, may it stand till the time when the new one shall be dissolved!

With these words David took his leave and departed, whilst De Lancaster, glowing with that pure sensation of refined delight, which music can convey to its admirers, and blest in having now recruited his pedigree with a new descendant from the loins of Noah, sallied forth for the breakfast room, displaying on his stately person a new suit, after an old fashion, of flaming full-trimmed scarlet, ornamented with enormous gold-worked buttons, plentifully dispersed; a prodigious flowing perriwig of natural hair sable as the raven’s plume, with rolled silk stockings and high-topped square-toed shoes, which, resounding upon every step of the oaken stairs as he descended, gave loud and early notice of his approach to the personages assembled to receive him.

Cecilia, Philip and Colonel Wilson in turn presented themselves, and received his cordial embrace, for in his heart nature had implanted all the warm affections of father and of friend, and in courtesy of manners he was a sample of the chivalric ages; Llewellyn therefore was by no means overlooked; his services were both highly praised, and liberally repaid. Lawyer Davis also attended, being summoned for the purpose of the enrolment. So many were the messages of enquiry from the neighbours round the castle, that almost every servant and retainer belonging to his houshold made an errand to present themselves and pay homage to their good old master. Had pen, ink and paper been called for, there would have been three domestics to have brought them in: in the mean while it may be presumed that the more than usually profound respect, with which they accompanied their devoirs, was in some degree owing to the awe they were impressed with by the splendor, in which they saw him now arrayed; and certain it is, if they needed any pardon for this excess of reverence towards a mortal like themselves, the stately person and commanding countenance of Robert De Lancaster were exactly such, as in their predicament might serve for an apology: his stature was of the tallest, but well-proportioned and erect; his frame athletic, but without a trace of clumsiness or vulgarity; his voice, his action, his address were all of that character, which seemed peculiarly adapted to impose respect. Colonel Wilson, who had got secret intimation of this brilliant sortie, which his friend was about to make, had brushed up his epaulets, and turned out in full uniform for the occasion.

Not so Sir Owen ap Owen, baronet, of Penruth Abbey, who, having been told of the event as he had just turned his hounds into cover, instantly galloped off to Kray Castle; and being now ushered into the room in his hunting jacket and boots, exhibited a figure, which both in dress and address was as perfect a contrast to that we have been describing, as reality could present, or imagination feign.

Cecilia took an early opportunity of saying she was upon duty and withdrew: the rest of the company fell off one and one, and Sir Owen found himself left with Mr. De Lancaster.

What ensued will be related in the following chapter.