[65] Saucy child.
[66] The unbounded good fortune of Polycrates, King of Samos, awakened the fear of his friend, Amasis, King of Egypt, who wrote to warn him of the jealousy of the gods:—
“This counsel of thy friend disdain not—
Invoke Adversity!
And what of all thy worldly gear,
Thy deepest heart esteems most dear,
Cast into yonder sea!”
[67] Calcutta Review, LI. iii.
[68] Calcutta Review, LI., 118. In the Gaelic we find a similar story, called “Moorochug and Meenachug.”
[69] We have Anglicised Mr. Dalyell’s version. See his “Darker Superstitions of Scotland,” p. 22. (Edit. 1835.)
[70] This is the subject of D. G. Rossetti’s fine poem, “The King’s Tragedy.”
[71] At the beginning of the action he had taken his place in front of his little band of cavalry. He bade them follow him, and rode forward. But it seemed to be decreed that, on that day, the lowland Scotch should in both armies appear to disadvantage. The horse hesitated. Dundee turned round, stood up in his stirrups, and, waving his hat, invited them to come on. As he lifted his arm, his cuirass rose, and exposed the lower part of his left side. A musket ball struck him: his horse sprang forward, and plunged into a cloud of smoke and dust, which hid from both armies the fall of the victorious general. A person named Johnstone was near him, and caught him as he sank down from the saddle. “How goes the day?” said Dundee. “Well for King James,” answered Johnstone; “but I am sorry for your lordship.” “If it is well for him,” answered the dying man, “it matters the less for me.” He never spoke again: but when, half an hour later, Lord Dunfermline and some other friends came to the spot, they thought that they could still discover some faint remains of life. The body, wrapped up in two plaids, was carried to the Castle of Blair.—Macaulay, chap. xiii.
[72] Æneid. lib. vii. l. 87.
[73] Milton.