And ev'ry boon that heaven can give,
When thy poor bard hath ceased to live!
When the ancient and sightless bard had concluded this, his improviso welcome, he appeared absolutely overpowered, and shed a copious torrent of tears, which flowed from eyes long indeed closed to the light, but not to intensity of feeling! But these were not tears of sorrow, they were effusions of grateful affection, that often speak the joyful feelings of the heart, while the tongue remains wholly silent. His was the unspeakable joy at his noble benefactor's happy return in health and peace, after so long an absence, to his ancient towers. The duke, duchess, Lady Adelaide, &c. &c. &c. in succession approached the aged minstrel to express severally their approbation of his song, and thanks for the feeling manner in which his welcome had been expressed. The duke obligingly and condescendingly said to him:—"My friend Cormac, although thy locks are more blenched and snowy than they were when last we parted, yet I am glad to find that your heart is not chilled by the frost of age, and that the chords of thy harp so sweetly still respond to a master's touch!"
Then addressing one of his pages, his Grace said, "Fill, fill the goblet high to the very brim, and present it to the bard!"
In sooth we need not say that sightless, honest Cormac retired to rest that night the happiest old man in the province of Ulster; his slumbers were sound and serene, and his dreams flattering as ever youthful poet dreamt.
The next morning, when breakfast was concluded, the duke said in a lively way:—"Come, come, Sir David, you have not travelled here for nothing, we must e'en show you the curiosities of the country. There lives, or rather vegetates, not far hence, a wight, the most eccentric being perhaps that ever existed—I pray you go see him. This personage is Squire Cornelius Kiltipper, of Crownagalera Castle, once the mighty Nimrod of these parts. You must, moreover, know, that from Squire Kiltipper's determined addiction to strong liquors, and likewise from the fatal consequence of a far-bruited boozing bout, in which he actually out-drank and out-lived his opponent in a long continued contest; (the defunct had been a gauger who thus succumbed in death, even at the base of the Squire's dinner-table;) in consequence of which Kiltipper was ever afterwards called, in popular parlance, Squire Kil-Toper! For, Sir David, you must know that the lower class of my countrymen are feelingly sensible of the ridiculous, and extremely fond of soubriquets, or nick-names.—Indeed they are curious bodies! So I pray you proceed to see this curiosity, and my kind Sir Patricius Placebo shall, upon this occasion, be your conduttóre."
Acceding to this recommendation of the duke, Sir David Bruce, accompanied by Sir Patricius Placebo, proceeded onward in their walk; and, as a prétexte par hazard, they carried with them their fowling-pieces, and were accompanied with a couple of pointers, and an attendant terrier. They set out, and walked across the field-paths, in due direction for the castle of Crownagela, which was distant about two miles.
Upon their arrival they stoutly knocked at the hall-door, but the servant refused admittance. However, after some parlance, and the rank of the visitors having been announced, they were admitted. Here a loud and general exclamation vociferated from the parlour, struck the ears of the visitors—"A song, a song!" The servant upon this observed, "Gentlemen, yees must have the goodness to wait just a bit till this same song is over, and then I will show yees to my master. If I dare go in now, to transdispose their musicals, the penalty would be, that I should be flung flat out of the window, and that, I am sartin, would not quite plaze yees."
While the visitors waited with what patience they might, before they were admitted to an audience with the original whom they had come to visit, the following bacchanalian song was conjointly sung; and which rumour likewise reported to have been composed by the vocal triumvirate, namely, Mr. Barrabbas Tithestang, the proctor, Mr. Simon Swigg, the gauger, and Mr. Stephen Stavespoil, the parish clerk and sexton: but the latter personage was strongly suspected to have had the principal hand, or pen, in the precious composition.