AS Scotland’s monarch forth did go
To hunt in Falkland’s wood;
Then Ruthven Gowry, bowing low,
Before the king there stood.
This youth was of a noble race,
Courteous, yet brave, was he;
And for a more engaging face,
No one could hope to see.
The king he gaz’d in much surprize;
In Ruthven plain was seen,
The varying colour, downcast eyes,
And agitated mien.
His finger on his lips he laid,
And with mysterious air;
Soft whisp’ring to king James he said,
I’ve something to declare.
Withdraw my sire, a little while,
And listen to my news;
The king reply’d, with gracious smile,
Loath am I to refuse,
But stop a little while, I pray,
And then thy tale I’ll hear;
For well you know, I hunt to-day
Amongst my fallow deer;
And I would not forego the chace,
For tidings bad or good;
So you must wait a little space,
The hunting of the wood.
But when the sport shall ended be,
And when the pastime’s o’er,
Then will I listen unto thee,
But trust me–not before.
Then over hill, and over dale,
The king did joyous ride:
And never did young Ruthven fail
To keep by James’s side.
And as the bounding deer did fly,
And as the king pursu’d;
Still close kept Ruthven, whilst his eye
The royal hunter view’d.
But now the buck o’ercome by foes,
And press’d by cruel hounds,
Falls; whilst the trickling life blood flows
From all his fatal wounds.
Then whilst the eager huntsmen crowd,
Around the hapless deer,
Whose shouts of triumph long and loud,
The distant peasants hear.
Ruthven again address’d the king,
My liege, make no delay;
Of strange import you’ll own the thing,
Which I have got to say.
Say on, reply’d the king, my lad,
And this strange business tell;
But be the news–or good, or bad,
In sooth thou ridest well.
For tho’ I strove with all my might,
The foremost still to be;
Yet ever were you in my sight,
Still closely following me.
Then courteous Ruthven thus began:
This day, my royal sire,
In Perth’s fair town I met a man,
In foreigner’s attire.
With downcast look, and silent tread,
He bent his lonely way;
And time had ting’d the stranger’s head,
With locks of silver grey.
I mark’d his mien and strange attire,
With a suspicious eye;
Then of his business I enquire,
But he made no reply.
A deep surmise now cross’d my mind,
And on him I took hold;
When underneath his cloak, I find,
A pot of foreign gold.
Oh! oh! quick answer’d royal James,
A traitor vile is he;
And with his base abettors’ names,
Acquainted will I be.
Strait to magistrate convey
This wretch who gives alarm;
When justice comes without delay,
It saves from future harm.
Ruthven reply’d–my noble lord,
A different way I’ve try’d;
In Gowry’s Castle’s strongest ward,
Full safe doth he abide.
Come then dread sir, yourself to see,
And prove by question true;
Whither the pris’ner traitor be,
Or only bart’ring Jew.
The courtiers mark the earnest speech
Of Ruthven to the king,
Apparently he doth beseech
For some important thing.
The Gowrys were two brothers bold,
Of rarest worth and fame:
And Scotland did no nobles hold,
Who bore a greater name.
Yet their own fathers did engage,
In many a fatal feud
Till fierce he felt the royal rage,
Whose vengeance him pursu’d.
A traitor’s fate earl Gowry found,
His head the forfeit paid;
But deep within the hollow’d ground,
His sons the body laid.
In silence fell the filial tear,
On their dear father’s grave;
For none to mourn him dar’d appear,
Except those youths so brave.
Now wonder much the waiting lords,
What doth the king amuse;
And what are Ruthven’s tempting words,
Or subject he did chuse.
For tho’ the king was toil’d and tired,
And weary faint his horse;
He still road on, whilst they admir’d
To see him bend his course.
To Gowry’s castle, large and strong,
Where gates now met their view;
And where the draw-bridge, dark and long,
Gave entrance but to two.
Two at a time could only go
Across the moat so deep;
And ‘fore its walls, still marching slow,
Did watchful centries keep.
This Gothic structure rear’d its head,
Adorn’d with moat and tower;
From which had many a chieftain led,
His bands with’ feudal power.
The massy portcullis was raised,
As James approached near;
The courtiers now were more amaz’d
And followed quick from fear.
But none were suffer’d to pass o’er,
But twenty of his train;
The rest without the castle door,
Were order’d to remain.
The heavy gates are now unbarr’d,
And James admitted thro’;
Yet those who follow as his guard,
In number were but few.
Earl Gowry next, came forth to meet
The king and lords so gay;
But faintly he his sire did greet,
And little did he say.
A mean and frugal meal was spread,
Before the royal guest;
No sooner done than blushing red,
Ruthven the king address’d.
The hour is come, let’s haste away,
The prisoner you must see;
At table, sire, no longer stay,
But come along with me.
Thro’ lonely passage, long and damp,
He paces with the king;
Which dimly lighted by a lamp,
Doth dismal shadows fling.
Now they ascend the Spiral stairs,
Which to the dungeon leads;
Whilst every thing around declares,
A scene for horrid deeds.
And is he here confin’d? said James,
Approaching towards a door;
Thy care; whoe’er it be that blames
Ill judges, I am sure.
The door unbarr’d–wide open flew,
When to his wond’ring eyes,
A man in armour, to his view
Appear’d, of monstrous size.
Altho’ in armour clad was he,
A burnish’d suit of mail,
In trembling shook his palsy’d knee,
His hollow cheeks were pale.
What traitor’s this–I pray you say
Ruthven, I fain would know;
If this be him you seiz’d to-day,
And brought me here to show.
But Ruthven quickly clos’d the door,
The arm’d man’s sword he drew;
Your life is gone, he loudly swore,
If word escapes from you.
‘Twas you who caus’d my father’s death,
Who did on scaffold bleed;
And now I claim your vital breath,
In vengeance for that deed.
Still silent did the arm’d man stand,
Amaz’d, and full of fear;
To Ruthven’s aid he lent no hand,
No word, his king to cheer.
But royal James, tho’ unprepar’d,
Resists the traitor strong;
Who thus to use his king had dar’d,
And offer him such wrong.
With frequent calling loud, and clear,
His courtiers hear his cries;
And every one is fill’d with fear,
And each to aid him tries.
Sudden they force the castle door,
Their monarch to defend:
Sudden as torrents, in they pour,
To save their king, their friend.
Lenox, and Marr, two noble men,
Rush’d forward thro’ the hall;
Young Ruthven his reward met then,
He was the first to fall.
Earl Gowry enter’d next the place,
Where rag’d contention dire:
Tho’ nobly arm’d, in little space
Did this young earl expire.
Amazement fill’d each present there,
For what could urge this deed;
None ever knew, none could declare
From what it could proceed.
But thus died both these brothers brave,
In strange unequal strife;
Both buried in one wretched grave,
That hour they lost their life.
Yet many griev’d, when it was said,
How both the Ruthvens fell;
And two such noble youths were dead,
Whom all had lov’d so well.
Thus James he triumph’d o’er his foes,
And join’d his faithful friends;
Whilst Ruthven’s, as the story shows,
Came to untimely ends.
(Caroline Maxwell)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Life Poems, Mind Poems, Time Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Faces Poems, Youth Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Friendship Poems, Place Poems, Name PoemsBased on Keywords: resists, huntsmen, caus, perth, blames, agitated, unbarr, ridest, unprepar, portcullis, lenox