CHAPTER XXXVI.
The Castle of Tarnawa—Distinguished Guests.
The party now climbed the slope, on the summit of which the Castle rose grandly before them; and they were no sooner within its outer defences than they found every corner of it alive. Lacqueys and serving-men of all sorts, in all the variety of rich attire, were seen running about in every direction. Most of the noblemen and knights had already assembled to prepare for the tournament, and some of these, with their ladies and daughters, were inmates of the Castle. From the Earl of Moray’s particular regard and friendship for Sir Patrick Hepborne the elder, an apartment was immediately assigned to his son; yet those who were favoured with lodgings at Tarnawa were but few in number compared with the many who were to be accommodated in the pavilions erected on the margin of the Mead. But as all were expected to assemble at the daily feast at the Castle, tables were laid for more than an hundred guests in Randolph’s Hall, where even a company of twice the number might have found ample room—this grand monument of feudal times covering an area of nearly an hundred feet in length.
A Squire Usher promptly attended to show Sir Patrick to his chamber, where he unarmed, dressed, and perfumed himself; and when he had completed his attirement, the Squire Usher again appeared to conduct him to the great hall.
“Nobles and chevaliers,” cried a pursuivant stationed at the entrance, “nobles and chevaliers, place there for Sir Patrick Hepborne, younger of Hailes, a puissant knight, of good stock and brave lineage, who but the other day overthrew the renowned Sir Rafe Piersie in single combat, which was nothing to his deeds of arms in France, for there——”
“Good pursuivant,” said Hepborne, interrupting him, in an under voice, as he poured a liberal largess into his cap, “thou hast said enow—no more, I beseech thee.” But the pursuivant’s tongue was rather oiled than gagged by the unusual magnitude of his donation.
“Ay,” cried he aloud, “a brave tree is known by its good [[261]]fruits, and gentle blood by its generosity. Well may ye ken a noble hand by the gift that comes from it; and well may ye ken a gallant and well-born knight by his noble port and presence, and by his liberal largess. Place there, I say, for Sir Patrick Hepborne—place there for the hero of Rosebarque!”
“Silence, I entreat thee,” cried Hepborne, advancing with all eyes upon him, to meet the Earl of Moray, who was approaching to receive him.
The magnificent Hall of Randolph presented at that moment one of the most brilliant spectacles that could well be conceived, graced as it then was with some of the flower of Scotland’s chivalry, who, with their ladies and attendants, shone in all the richest and gayest variety of silks, velvets, furs, and gaudy-coloured cloths, blazing with gold and embroidery, sparkling with gems, and heavy with curiously-wrought chains and other ornaments, while flaunting plumes fluttered about, giving a multiplied effect of motion, so that the whole area resembled one great tide of gorgeous grandeur, that was perpetually fluctuating, mixing, and changing.
“Sir Patrick,” said the Earl to Hepborne, “I believe thy sojournance abroad hath hitherto permitted thee to see but little of our Scottish chivauncie. It will be a pleasing task to me to make thee acquainted with such of them as are here; and it will give me yet greater jovisaunce to teach them to know thy merits. Let me then, first of all, introduce thee to my brother-in-law, Robert Stewart, Earl of Fife and Menteith, who, though he be but the King’s second son, is supposed, with some truth, to have the greatest share of the government of Scotland.”