Rory

“ Generations have come and gone upon the isle, and still no man has heard the returning air which Rory was to play. He may have found the little child, but he never found his backward path, and in the gloom of that honeycombed hill he and the child and the music of the pipes lapsed into the same stillness. Remembering this legend, familiar to him since his boyhood, Alan did not dare to venture further. ”

“ Sure I drame ev'ry night that I'm hating you so!"
"Oh," says Rory, "that same I'm delighted to hear,
For drames always go by conthraries, my dear;
Oh! jewel, keep draming that same till you die,
And bright morning will give dirty night the black lie!
And 'tis plaz'd that I am, and why not, to be sure?
Since 'tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More.
"Arrah, Kathleen, my darlint, you've teas'd me enough,
Sure I've thrash'd for your sake Dinny Grimes and Jim Duff ”

“ Father Mathew [14] himself was passing that way,
And unto bold Rory these words he did say,{44}
For the sake of Hibernia be tipsy no more,
I’ll try my best, father, cried Rory O More.
Of the hurlings and fightings, no more’s to be seen,
But the daughters of Erin trip light o’er the green;
The gaols are all empty, the judges look blue,
The lawyers are starving with nothing to do,
And Rory O More, and his beautiful Kate,
Wear temperance medals, so dasent and nate.
As he looks on his Kathleen, he says with a smile,
That she shall be Queen of the Emerald Isle. ”

“ All the prescribed ceremonies calculated to rescue him from the fairy dominion were resorted to by his mourning relatives without effect, and Rory was supposed lost for ever, when a “wise man” of the day having learned the circumstance, discovered to his friends a plan by which they might deliver him at the end of twelve months from his entry.
“Return,” says the Duin Glichd to Donald, “to the place where you lost your brother a year and a day from the time. You will insert in your garment a Rowan Cross, which will protect you from the fairies’ interposition. ”

“ The awkward silence following Rory's hot speech was relieved by Charley Boyle's ready wit.
“We'll divide the work, boys,” he said. “Some men do the liftin' and others the yellin'. Tom and me'll do the yellin'.” ”

“ Roger, or Rory, O’More, is one of the most honored and stainless names in Irish annals. Writers who concur in nothing else agree in representing him as a man of the loftiest motives and the most passionate patriotism. In 1640, when Ireland was weakened by defeat 207and confiscation, and guarded with a jealous care, constantly increasing in strictness and severity, O’More, then a private gentleman with no resources beyond his intellect and courage, conceived the vast design of rescuing her from England, and accomplished it. ”

“ Rory was alarmed, and what was worse, he was helpless. His own sons had turned against him; so in his misery he implored the Archbishop to be his mediator with [Pg 444] the king. He had no one else to rely on, and the Archbishop did not disappoint him. Again he left the shores of Ireland on a mission of charity; and doubtless his eyes were not dry as he gazed on the lessening summits of the far-off Wicklow mountains, and thought of the many happy days he had spent in the wild solitude of his beloved Glendalough. When he arrived in England Henry could not, or would not, see him ”

“ Is’t not hard to be sae near the Yearl and yet to see as little o’ him or his men as gif they war in ane ither warld? is’t not cruel for a man like me to be keepit back frae the wark that best beseemeth him whan his very heart is in’t?”
“And why shouldst thou be kept back from it, Rory, now that thy duty to the lady is performed?” demanded the harper.
“Dost thou no see Kate yonder?” replied Rory sullenly. “What is to be done with the wench, think ye? ”

“ Poor Rory’s vinrable oult mither was carried aff and murthered in the side o’ the hid, wid a stone mint for the sherry, o’ which she recovered diricly. They tried to kaap her quiet in her shanty, but she took on so gravous, that they let her attind the pittin up—poor ould sowl—she sed she had attinded the last moments o’ her good man, and both her childer, Patrick and Pether, whin they wur pit up the same way, and it was not the like o’ her to hart poor daar Rory’s faalings onyhow. ”

“ Introduction and notes by D. J. O’Donoghue, who considers this to be Lover’s best long story. A tale of adventure in 1798, with a slight historical background. National in sentiment, without being unfairly biased. Contains some of Lover’s best humour, especially the endless drollery and whimsicalities of the hero, Rory. Some of the types are very true to life. There are passages of genuine pathos. Tries to prove that the more heinous atrocities in ’98 were due to a few desperadoes. ”

“ Fly—save him—save him, and all the gold I possess shall be thine.”
“Nay, lady,” replied Rory, “albeit the very attempt wad be risk enew, yet wud I flee to obey thy wull withouten the bribe o’ thy gowd; and the mair, that it wud be a merciful, a Christian, and a right joyful wark to save a fellow-cretur frae sike ane awsome end. But man’s help in this case is a’thegither vain. Dost thou no perceive that the clatter o’ his horse’s heels is no longer to be heard? nay, even his cries do already return but faintly from far up the pass? And noo, listen—hush—hear hoo fast they do die away ”

“ Silence! Duke of Montrose, and lead me where you will; but be silent, I say. Honour is like fine steel—breathe upon it and the surface becomes stained. Sorely have you striven to stain the honour of Rob Roy; but you have striven in vain; for Rob will be remembered among these green mountains and in the hearts of the Gael—look down, O Heaven, and bless them!—when you, duke so venal and corrupt, will be remembered only as the enemy and oppressor of him you would destroy."
"Egad, I like your spirit, MacGregor!" said Colonel Grahame, as he sheathed his sword with an emphatic jerk. ”

“ Florent is bordered by acacia trees most of the way, while the Loire winds through the meadows on either hand, is pleasant and pretty. Up a narrow lane, from whose walls of unhewn stones hung common English ferns, I passed more huge boulders wedged in the ground. Some peasant women were sitting on them, resting and enjoying the lovely view of the valley of the Loire, with Saumur and its four-towered castle crowning the rocks. For the French peasant has a keen sense of natural beauty. ”

“ Good Roger, where are your wits? I am sped. So are we all. Never a king was done to death but a thousand die for his killing. The wolf hath the sheep and the hounds are upon the wolf."
"Angevin!" Roger cried, for at last he saw his men's faces. "Your craft serves you not now. Out, fellows, out. Leave me alone with them."
"The brave Roger!" the king laughed. "Alone with a bound man and a woman bound. O gallant knight."
"Aye, fool it to the last, Henry. There is nothing left you but your tongue. Now hear you me. Not at my will only you lie bound, but for the lady your queen. ”

“ Rob Roy laughed scornfully.
"You would have asked me to surrender, my lord duke; but for a MacGregor to surrender is to die with ignominy; to resist to the end is to die with honour to ourselves and our forefathers. A hundred and twenty years of oppression have made us what we are now; but a time may come when even the cunning Lowlander shall weep for the snare of to-day, and shall tremble at the vengeance of Clan Alpine!"
"Zounds! but you are a bold fellow to be a gentleman-drover—a seller of black cattle," said the duke, mockingly. ”

“ Roy, away in that dreadful Heaven, can have no thought of me, cannot remember how I loved him, how he left me all alone. The singing and the worshipping must take up all his time. God wants it all. He is a “Jealous God.” I am nothing any more to Roy. ”

“ The King laughed. "She tarries, good Roger, she tarries. Women are wayward. What if she comes not? Look and see. What if she hath mocked our Roger?"
"God's blood, you shall not mock me," Roger cried and drew his sword and rushed at him. The King flung up his bound arms to meet the blow. He turned it, not without blood, but as it fell it seared through the cords and the straining arms sprang apart. ”

“ When, then, they had wiped away their tears of joy, and were more composed, the good woman, having bid Roger be seated, said, "A merciful providence, dear Roger, must have hovered over all your undertakings, or you could not have gained them kingdoms you described in your letter-"
"Umph!" returned Roger, hanging down and shaking his head, "the kingdoms would be well enough if they did not slip so easily through one's fingers. And what is more, dear Polly, I have come to know that there is only one kingdom an honest man need have a longing for, which is the Kingdom of Heaven. ”

“ Said Roger: "I shall lead thee to a good harbour, and a noble house of a master of mine, wherein thou mayst dwell certain days, if thou hast a mind thereto, not without solace maybe."
"And this master," said Ralph, "is he of the Dry Tree?" Said Roger: "I scarce know how to answer thee without lying: but this I say, that whether he be or not, this is true; amongst those men I have friends and amongst them foes; but fate bindeth me to them for a while." Said Ralph reddening: "Be there any women amongst them?" ”

“ While Roger spoke, he was hastily throwing aside his English dress, and arraying himself in the Irish national costume—the tunic and braccæ which dated from Roman days, the loose hood, the plaid, the bare foot in the stirrup, and the spear in the hand. Thus accoutred, and commanding his men to stand still until after the parley, he dashed up the slope to meet the Irish leaders.
For an instant Roger's handsome face and lithe figure were seen at the summit of the knoll, as he cried in Irish to the advancing host.
"God speed you, my brethren! What are your demands?" ”

“ The old chevalier went down to his tomb heart-broken and heirless.
Le Roi, Lord of Chavigny, and who must not be mistaken for an ancestor of that Le Roi who died at the Alma under the title of Marshal St. Arnaud, is a good illustration of the blunt, honest knight. Charles IX. once remarked to him that his mother, Catherine de Medicis, boasted that there was not a man in France, with ten thousand livres a year, at whose hearth she had not a spy in her pay. “I do not know,” said Le Roi, “whether tyrants make spies, or spies tyrants. For my own part, I see no use in them, except in war.” ”

“ And glory to our sovereign liege, King Henry of Navarre!
Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance,
Through thy cornfields green, and sunny vines, oh pleasant land of France!
And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters,
Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters.
As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy,
For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy.
Hurrah! hurrah! a single field hath turned the chance of war,
Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry, and Henry of Navarre. ”

“ As far as the eye can reach, one swelling line of hill-top rises and falls behind another; and if you climb an eminence, it is only to see new and farther ranges behind these. Many little rivers run from all sides in cliffy valleys; and one of them, a few miles from Monastier, bears the great name of Loire. The mean level of the country is a little more than three thousand feet above the sea, which makes the atmosphere proportionally brisk and wholesome. There is little timber except pines, and the greater part of the country lies in moorland pasture. ”

“ The first1 of our society is a gentleman of Worcestershire, of an ancient descent, a baronet, his name Sir Roger de Coverley. His great-grandfather was inventor of that famous country-dance which is called after him. All who know that shire are very well acquainted with the parts and merits of Sir Roger. He is a gentleman that is very singular in his behavior, but his singularities proceed from his good sense, and are contradictions to the manners of the world, only as he thinks the world is in the wrong. ”

“ From a railroad time table Roy ascertained where he must go, and by the first train he could get in the morning he set out.
“Be very gentle with him, Roy,” his mother said at parting. “By his sending to you he evidently thinks I am greatly displeased with him.”
“Trust me, mother,” Roy assured her with a smile.
He felt very happy this morning, happier than he had, it seemed to him, since they had come into their fortune. Of such worth is sorrow sometimes, to make a contrast by which to intensify joy. ”

“ After a time it occurred to him that Faith would be very likely to be in such a lovely place. The swing-doors were always opening and shutting. Roy, watching his opportunity, pushed his way in by the side of a ragged woman and two coarse men. They advanced up to the counter to ask for gin, but the baby child remained on the threshold. He looked around him with the wide open eyes of admiration, innocence, and trust. Anything so lovely gazing at anything so evil had been seldom seen ”

“ Jehangir, in reply to the remonstrance, told Roe that he "should not be sad or grieved that he had his choice, for that he had no patience to forbear seeing the presents." He did Roe no wrong and as for the King of England he would make him satisfaction. The prince (Khumim) , Noor Mahal, and he, he added, were all one, and as for bringing him anything to procure his favour, it was a. ceremony and unnecessary, for he would at all times hear Roe: he would be welcome empty-handed, for his poverty would not be his fault. He concluded by saying that Roe should not be angry as he meant well. ”

“ If ever a man had cause for ambition I have. With God’s help, that boy shall take his place with any gentleman in the land before I die.”
He sat down again by his table, but instead of continuing his work he remained for a time, one hand partly shading his eyes, while he indulged in a meditation. Yes; he must save as much money as possible; for Roy’s education must begin early. Roy must have this, Roy must have that. He did not think of Faith at all. Faith was but a girl. ”