Let poor Louise some succour have!
She will not long your bounty crave,
Or tire the gay with warning stave;
For Heaven has grace, and earth a grave
For poor Louise.

The song was no sooner finished than, anxious lest the dispute should be
revived betwixt his brother and the Earl of March, King Robert called to
the latter, "What think you of the minstrelsy, my lord? Methinks, as I
heard it even at this distance, it was a wild and pleasing lay."

"My judgment is not deep my lord; but the singer may dispense with
my approbation, since she seems to have received that of his Grace of
Rothsay, the best judge in Scotland."

"How!" said the King in alarm; "is my son below?"

"He is sitting on horseback by the glee maiden," said March, with a
malicious smile on his cheek, "apparently as much interested by her
conversation as her music."

"How is this, father prior?" said the King.

But the prior drew back from the lattice. "I have no will to see, my
lord, things which it would pain me to repeat."

"How is all this?" said the King, who coloured deeply, and seemed about
to rise from his chair; but changed his mind, as if unwilling, perhaps,
to look upon some unbecoming prank of the wild young prince, which he
might not have had heart to punish with necessary severity. The Earl
of March seemed to have a pleasure in informing him of that of which
doubtless he desired to remain ignorant.

"My liege," he cried, "this is better and better. The glee maiden has
not only engaged the ear of the Prince of Scotland, as well as of every
groom and trooper in the courtyard, but she has riveted the attention of
the Black Douglas, whom we have not known as a passionate admirer of
the gay science. But truly, I do not wonder at his astonishment, for the
Prince has honoured the fair professor of song and viol with a kiss of
approbation."

"How!" cried the King, "is David of Rothsay trifling with a glee maiden,
and his wife's father in presence? Go, my good father abbot, call the
Prince here instantly. Go, my dearest brother--" And when they had both
left the room, the King continued, "Go, good cousin of March; there will
be mischief, I am assured of it. I pray you go, cousin, and second my
lord prior's prayers with my commands."

"You forget, my liege," said March, with the voice of a deeply offended
person, "the father of Elizabeth of Dunbar were but an unfit intercessor
between the Douglas and his royal son in l