Notes on Canto 2

When silver edges the imagery,And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die.St. I. p. 36.

——— Lands and livings, many a rood,Had gifted the shrine for their souls repose.—St. II. p. 37.

Prayer know I hardly one;********Save to patter an Ave Mary,When I ride on a Border foray.—St. VI. p. 39.

So had he seen, in fair Castile,The youth in glittering squadrons start;Sudden the flying jennet wheel,And hurl the unexpected dart.—St. VIII. p. 40.

———Thy low and lonely urn,O gallant chief of Otterburne.—St. X. p. 42.

They sat them down on a marble stone,A Scottish monarch slept below.—St. XII. p. 43.

"He said the book which he gave me,Was of Sir Michael Scot's historie;Which historie was never yet read through,Nor never will, for no man dare it do.Young scholars have pick'd out somethingFrom the contents, that dare not read within.He carried me along into the castle then,And shew'd his written book hanging on an iron pin.His writing pen did seem to me to beOf harden'd metal, like steel, or accumie;The volume of it did seem so large to me,As the book of martyrs and Turks historie.Then in the church he let me seeA stone where Mr Michael Scot did lie;I asked at him how that could appear,Mr Michael had been dead above five hundred year?*********He shew'd me none durst bury under that stone,More than he had been dead a few years agone;For Mr Micheel's name does terrifie each one."History of the Right Honourable name of Scot.

Maister Michael Scott's manSought meat, and gat nane.

The words that clove Eildon hills in three,And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone.St. XIII. p. 44.

He thought, as he took it, the dead man frowned.St. XXI. p. 50.

But the Ladye of Branksome gathered a bandOf the best that would ride at her command.St. XXXII. p. 58.