Be it
known to you, that when last on shore, I consulted with a woman of
skill and power, called Nicneven, of whom the country has rung for
some brief time past. Fools asked her for charms to make them beloved,
misers for means to increase their store; some demanded to know the
future--an idle wish, since it cannot be altered; others would have an
explanation of the past--idler still, since it cannot be recalled. I
heard their queries with scorn, and demanded the means of avenging
myself of a deadly enemy, for I grow old, and may trust no longer to
Bilboa blade. She gave me a packet--`Mix that,' said she, `with any
liquid, and thy vengeance is complete.'"
"Villain! and you mixed it with the food of this imprisoned Lady, to
the dishonour of thy master's house?"
"To redeem the insulted honour of my master's house, I mixed the
contents of the packet with the jar of succory-water: They seldom fail
to drain it, and the woman loves it over all."
"It was a work of hell," said the Lady Lochleven, "both the asking and
the granting.--Away, wretched man, let us see if aid be yet too late!"
"They will not admit us, madam, save we enter by force--I have been.
twice at the door, but can obtain no entrance."
"We will beat it level with the ground, if needful--And, hold--summon
Randal hither instantly.--Randal, here is a foul and evil chance
befallen--send off a boat instantly to Kinross, the Chamberlain Luke
Lundin is said to have skill--Fetch off, too, that foul witch
Nicneven; she shall first counteract her own spell, and then be burned
to ashes in the island of Saint Serf.
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