O, what a tangled web we weave

I have never been especially fond of Sir Walter Scott though he was one of the first, greatest and most successful of serial bestsellers. Fiction is not a particular field of reading for me and 19th century fiction especially.

That said, I did read a couple of abridged versions when I was a child. In his book, Marmion, I do know well the story of Lochinvar as I read an illustrated version to my children many times.

What I just discovered though, was that he penned the lines with which I have been familiar all my life. From Marmion (an epic poem first published in 1808), Canto VI, st. 17.

O, what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!

I assumed it was just a folk saying.

Here are some other lines from the poem.

Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth,
When thought is speech, and speech is truth.

[snip]

When, musing on companions gone,
We doubly feel ourselves alone.

[snip]

'T is an old tale and often told;
But did my fate and wish agree,
Ne'er had been read, in story old,
Of maiden true betray'd for gold,
That loved, or was avenged, like me.

[snip]

And come he slow, or come he fast,
It is but Death who comes at last.

[snip]

Heap on more wood!-the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We’ll keep our Christmas merry still.

[snip]

England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
‘Twas Christmas broach’d the mightiest ale;
‘Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man’s heart through half the year.

[snip]

And darest thou then
To beard the lion in his den,
The Douglas in his hall?

[snip]

To all, to each, a fair good-night,
And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light!

I might just have to give Marmion a try.

In the meantime, there is one couplet that seems a nostradamian anachronism.

But woe awaits a country when
She sees the tears of bearded men.

Was Sir Walter Scott prophesying to us about our age of sensitive and weeping hipsters and sniveling pajama boys? I hope not.