 as Conan46 said to the devil. Now do
you two talk of bards and poetry, if not of purses and claymores, while I return
to do the final honours to the senators of the tribe of Ivor.« So saying, he
left the room.
    The conversation continued between Flora and Waverley; for two well-dressed
young women, whose character seemed to hover between that of companions and
dependants, took no share in it. They were both pretty girls, but served only as
foils to the grace and beauty of their patroness. The discourse followed the
turn which the Chieftain had given it, and Waverley was equally amused and
surprised with the account which the lady gave him of Celtic poetry.
    »The recitation,« she said, »of poems, recording the feats of heroes, the
complaints of lovers, and the wars of contending tribes, forms the chief
amusement of a winter fireside in the Highlands. Some of these are said to be
very ancient, and if they are ever translated into any of the languages of
civilized Europe, cannot fail to produce a deep and general sensation. Others
are more modern, the composition of those family bards whom the chieftains of
more distinguished name and power retain as the poets and historians of their
tribes. These, of course, possess various degrees of merit; but much of it must
evaporate in translation, or be lost on those who do not sympathise with the
feelings of the poet.«
    »And your bard, whose effusions seemed to produce such effect upon the
company to day, - is he reckoned among the favourite poets of the mountain?«
    »That is a trying question. His reputation is high among his countrymen, and
you must not expect me to depreciate it.«47
    »But the song, Miss Mac-Ivor, seemed to awaken all those warriors, both
young and old.«
    »The song is little more than a catalogue of names of the Highland clans
under their distinctive peculiarities, and an exhortation to them to remember
and to emulate the actions of their forefathers.«
    »And am I wrong in conjecturing, however extraordinary the guess appears,
that there was some allusion to me in the verses which he recited?«
    »You have a quick observation, Captain Waverley, which, in this instance has
not deceived you. The Gaelic language, being uncommonly vocalic, is well adapted
for sudden and extemporaneous poetry; and a bard seldom fails to augment the
effects of a premeditated song, by throwing in any stanzas which may be
suggested by the circumstances attending the recitation.«
    »I would give my best
