hyperbolical taste of King Charles's time, from some court masque to the wilds of Perthshire.
"Gaze not upon the stars, fond sage,
In them no influence lies;
To read the fate of youth or age,
Look on my Helen's eyes.
"Yet, rash astrologer, refrain,
Too dearly would be won
The prescience of another's pain,
If purchased by thine own."
"She is right, Allan," said Lord Menteith; "and this end of an old song is worth all we shall gain by our attempt to look into futurity."
"She is wrong, my lord," said Allan, sternly, "though you, who treat with lightness the warnings I have given you, may not live to see the event of the omen. Laugh not so scornfully," he added, interrupting himself," or rather laugh on as loud and as long as you will; your term of laughter will find a pause ere long."
