The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 2 (of 3) — John Shaqi
The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 2 (of 3)Hogg, James
History
The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 2 (of 3)
Hogg, James
Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- Robert II, 1371-1390 -- Fiction
"He brings me a-mind o' daft Jock Amos i' the Goosegreen," said
Gibbie,--"wha never durst lie down on a bed because his mother died on
ane. Whenever he saw a bed wi' white sheets on it he fell a-trembling,
and ran to the gate."
CHAP. III.
Goe fetche mee lofe of your wheitan breide
And ane other coppe of wyne;
For drynke I quhile myne doublet ryve,
For drynke I moste repine.
I fele not corauge in myne herte,
Nor mychte into myne honde,
If there is nott wytchcrafte forth abrode,
There neuir was crafte in londe.
_Ballade of "Prince Henrie."_
The morning had by this time dawned on the gray hills of the forest, and
that with an aspect gloomy and foreboding. The white snowy clouds had
crept down into the bosoms of the hills; and above these clouds were
here and there to be seen the top of a mountain crested with its dark
cairn, so that the heavens and the earth seemed to be mingled together.
"Gude sauf us!" cried Charlie, as he peeped out at his small crannied
window, "but this is a grim, gousty-looking morning! I wish the prince
o' the air be nae fa'en a brewing some o' his hellish storms and
hairikens on us. If there be spirits moving about on thae hills to-day,
they can be nae good anes, ye may see by their look out. Sant Mary be
with us! see their drumly heads appear to be raised to double their
ordinary height."
"Be not thou afraid, my son, of the prince of the power of the air, for
there is one that is greater than he," said the friar; "and though the
fiends may for a while muster their fogs, and foment the air with
storms, yet will he send forth his angels and scatter them; yea, he will
send them forth riding on the whirlwind, and the clouds of heaven shall
be their chariots, and the powers of darkness shall fly in dismay before
them."
The friar stepped forward to the window, and gazed for a minute in
breathless astonishment; then turning away, he added in a solemn tone,
"Verily, my children, I am afraid to look at the face of the sky, or to
behold the hues that are abroad on the firmament this day, though my
strength be the munition of rocks."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account