The Abbot
Chapter the Fifteenth.
As when in tumults rise the ignoble crowd, Mad are their motions, and their tongues are loud, And stones and brands in rattling furies fly, And all the rustic arms which fury can supply-- Then if some grave and pious man appear, They hush their noise, and lend a listening ear. DRYDEN'S VIRGIL
A dreadful shout of vengeance was raised by the revellers, whose sportwas thus so fearfully interrupted; but for an instant, the want ofweapons amongst the multitude, as well as the inflamed features andbrandished poniard of Roland Graeme, kept them at bay, while the Abbot,horror-struck at the violence, implored, with uplifted hands, pardonfor blood-shed committed within the sanctuary. Magdalen Graeme aloneexpressed triumph in the blow her descendant had dealt to the scoffer,mixed, however, with a wild and anxious expression of terror for hergrandson's safety. "Let him perish," she said, "in his blasphemy--lethim die on the holy pavement which he has insulted!"
But the rage of the multitude, the grief of the Abbot, the exultation ofthe enthusiastic Magdalen, were all mistimed and unnecessary. Howleglas,mortally wounded as he was supposed to be, sprung alertly up from thefloor, calling aloud, "A miracle, a miracle, my masters! as brave amiracle as ever was wrought in the kirk of Kennaquhair. And I chargeyou, my masters, as your lawfully chosen Abbot, that you touch no onewithout my command--You, wolf and bear, will guard this pragmatic youth,but without hurting him--And you, reverend brother, will, with yourcomrades, withdraw to your cells; for our conference has ended like allconferences, leaving each of his own mind, as before; and if wefight, both you, and your brethren, and the Kirk, will have the worston't--Wherefore, pack up you pipes and begone."
The hubbub was beginning again to awaken, but still Father Ambrosehesitated, as uncertain to what path his duty called him, whether toface out the present storm, or to reserve himself for a better moment.His brother of Unreason observed his difficulty, and said, in a tonemore natural and less affected than that with which he had hithertosustained his character, "We came hither, my good sir, more in mirththan in mischief--our bark is worse than our bite--and, especially, wemean you no personal harm--wherefore, draw off while the play is good;for it is ill whistling for a hawk when she is once on the soar, andworse to snatch the quarry from the ban-dog--Let these fellows oncebegin their brawl, and it will be too much for madness itself, let alonethe Abbot of Unreason, to bring them back to the lure."
The brethren crowded around Father Ambrosius, and joined in urginghim to give place to the torrent. The present revel was, they said,an ancient custom which his predecessors had permitted, and oldFather Nicholas himself had played the dragon in the days of the AbbotIngelram.
"And we now reap the fruit of the seed which they have so unadvisedlysown," said Ambrosius; "they taught men to make a mock of what isholy, what wonder that the descendants of scoffers become robbersand plunderers? But be it as you list, my brethren--move towards thedortour--And you, dame, I command you, by the authority which I haveover you, and by your respect for that youth's safety, that you go withus without farther speech--Yet, stay--what are your intentions towardsthat youth whom you detain prisoner?--Wot ye," he continued, addressingHowleglas in a stern tone of voice, "that he bears the livery of theHouse of Avenel? They who fear not the anger of Heaven, may at leastdread the wrath of man."
"Cumber not yourself concerning him," answered Howleglas, "we know rightwell who and what he is."
"Let me pray," said the Abbot, in a tone of entreaty, "that you do himno wrong for the rash deed--which he attempted in his imprudent zeal."
"I say, cumber not yourself about it, father," answered Howleglas, "butmove off with your train, male and female, or I will not undertake tosave yonder she-saint from the ducking-stool--And as for bearing ofmalice, my stomach has no room for it; it is," he added, clappinghis hand on his portly belly, "too well bumbasted out with straw andbuckram--gramercy to them both--they kept out that madcap's dagger aswell as a Milan corslet could have done."
In fact, the home-driven poniard of Roland Graeme had lighted upon thestuffing of the fictitious paunch, which the Abbot of Unreason wore as apart of his characteristic dress, and it was only the force of the blowwhich had prostrated that reverend person on the ground for a moment.
Satisfied in some degree by this man's assurances, and compelled--togive way to superior force, the Abbot Ambrosius retired from the Churchat the head of the monks, and left the court free for the revellersto work their will. But, wild and wilful as these rioters were, theyaccompanied the retreat of the religionists with none of those shoutsof contempt and derision with which they had at first hailed them. TheAbbot's discourse had affected some of them with remorse, others withshame, and all with a transient degree of respect. They remainedsilent until the last monk had disappeared through the side-door whichcommunicated with their dwelling-place, and even then it costsome exhortations on the part of Howleglas, some caprioles of thehobby-horse, and some wallops of the dragon, to rouse once more therebuked spirit of revelry.
"And how now, my masters?" said the Abbot of Unreason; "and whereforelook on me with such blank Jack-a-Lent visages? Will you lose your oldpastime for an old wife's tale of saints and purgatory? Why, I thoughtyou would have made all split long since--Come, strike up, tabor andharp, strike up, fiddle and rebeck--dance and be merry to-day, andlet care come to-morrow. Bear and wolf, look to your prisoner--prance,hobby--hiss, dragon, and halloo, boys--we grow older every moment westand idle, and life is too short to be spent in playing mumchance."
This pithy exhortation was attended with the effect desired. Theyfumigated the Church with burnt wool and feathers instead of incense,put foul water into the holy-water basins, and celebrated a parody onthe Church-service, the mock Abbot officiating at the altar; they sungludicrous and indecent parodies, to the tunes of church hymns; theyviolated whatever vestments or vessels belonging to the Abbey they couldlay their hands upon; and, playing every freak which the whim of themoment could suggest to their wild caprice, at length they fell tomore lasting deeds of demolition, pulled down and destroyed some carvedwood-work, dashed out the painted windows which had escaped formerviolence, and in their rigorous search after sculpture dedicated toidolatry, began to destroy what ornaments yet remained entire upon thetombs, and around the cornices of the pillars.
The spirit of demolition, like other tastes, increases by indulgence;from these lighter attempts at mischief, the more tumultuous part of themeeting began to meditate destruction on a more extended scale--"Letus heave it down altogether, the old crow's nest," became a general cryamong them; "it has served the Pope and his rooks too long;" and upthey struck a ballad which was then popular among the lower classes.[Footnote: These rude rhymes are taken, with some trifling alterations,from a ballad called Trim-go-trix. It occurs in a singular collection,entitled; "A Compendious Book of Godly and Spiritual Songs, collectedout of sundrie parts of the Scripture, with sundry of other ballatischanged out of prophane sanges for avoyding of sin and harlotrie, withAugmentation of sundrie Gude and Godly Ballates. Edinburgh, printed byAndro Hart." This curious collection has been reprinted in Mr. John.Grahame Dalyell's Scottish Poems of the 16th century Edin. 1801, 2vols.]
"The Paip, that pagan full of pride, Hath blinded us ower lang. For where the blind the blind doth lead, No marvel baith gae wrang. Like prince and king, He led the ring Of all iniquity. Sing hay trix, trim-go-trix, Under the greenwood tree.
"The Bishop rich, he could not preach For sporting with the lasses; The silly friar behoved to fleech For awmous as he passes: The curate his creed He could not read,-- Shame fa' company! Sing hay trix, trim-go-trix, Under the greenwood tree."
Thundering out this chorus of a notable hunting song, which had beenpressed into the service of some polemical poet, the followers of theAbbot of Unreason were turning every moment more tumultuous, and gettingbeyond the management even of that reverend prelate himself, when aknight in full armour, followed by two or three
men-at-arms, enteredthe church, and in a stern voice commanded them to forbear their riotousmummery.
His visor was up, but if it had been lowered, the cognizance of theholly-branch sufficiently distinguished Sir Halbert Glendinning, who, onhis homeward road, was passing through the village of Kennaquhair; andmoved, perhaps, by anxiety for his brother's safety, had come directlyto the church on hearing of the uproar.
"What is the meaning of this," he said, "my masters? are ye Christianmen, and the king's subjects, and yet waste and destroy church andchancel like so many heathens?"
All stood silent, though doubtless there were several disappointedand surprised at receiving chiding instead of thanks from so zealous aprotestant.
The dragon, indeed, did at length take upon him to be spokesman, andgrowled from the depth of his painted maw, that they did but sweepPopery out of the church with the besom of destruction.
"What! my friends," replied Sir Halbert Glendinning, "think you thismumming and masking has not more of Popery in it than have these stonewalls? Take the leprosy out of your flesh, before you speak of purifyingstone walls--abate your insolent license, which leads but to idle vanityand sinful excess; and know, that what you now practise, is one ofthe profane and unseemly sports introduced by the priests of Romethemselves, to mislead and to brutify the souls which fell into theirnet."
"Marry come up--are you there with your bears?" muttered the dragon,with a draconic sullenness, which was in good keeping with hischaracter, "we had as good have been Romans still, if we are to have nofreedom in our pastimes!"
"Dost thou reply to me so?" said Halbert Glendinning; "or is thereany pastime in grovelling on the ground there like a gigantickail-worm?--Get out of thy painted case, or, by my knighthood, I willtreat you like the beast and reptile you have made yourself."
"Beast and reptile?" retorted the offended dragon, "setting aside yourknighthood, I hold myself as well a born man as thyself."
The Knight made no answer in words, but bestowed two such blows with thebutt of his lance on the petulant dragon, that had not the hoops whichconstituted the ribs of the machine been pretty strong, they wouldhardly have saved those of the actor from being broken. In all haste themasker crept out of his disguise, unwilling to abide a third buffet fromthe lance of the enraged Knight. And when the ex-dragon stood on thefloor of the church, he presented to Halbert Glendinning the well-knowncountenance of Dan of the Howlet-hirst, an ancient comrade of his own,ere fate had raised him so high above the rank to which he was born.The clown looked sulkily upon the Knight, as if to upbraid him for hisviolence towards an old acquaintance, and Glendinning's own good-naturereproached him for the violence he had acted upon him.
"I did wrong to strike thee," he said, "Dan; but in truth, I knew theenot--thou wert ever a mad fellow--come to Avenel Castle, and we shallsee how my hawks fly."
"And if we show him not falcons that will mount as merrily as rockets,"said the Abbot of Unreason, "I would your honour laid as hard on mybones as you did on his even now."
"How now, Sir Knave," said the Knight, "and what has brought youhither?"
The Abbot, hastily ridding himself of the false nose which mystifiedhis physiognomy, and the supplementary belly which made up his disguise,stood before his master in his real character, of Adam Woodcock, thefalconer of Avenel.
"How, varlet!" said the Knight; "hast thou dared to come here anddisturb the very house my brother was dwelling in?"
"And it was even for that reason, craving your honour's pardon, that Icame hither--for I heard the country was to be up to choose an Abbot ofUnreason, and sure, thought I, I that can sing, dance, leap backwardsover a broadsword, and am as good a fool as ever sought promotion, haveall chance of carrying the office; and if I gain my election, I maystand his honour's brother in some stead, supposing things fall roughlyout at the Kirk of Saint Mary's."
"Thou art but a cogging knave," said Sir Halbert, "and well I wot, thatlove of ale and brandy, besides the humour of riot and frolic, woulddraw thee a mile, when love of my house would not bring thee a yard.But, go to--carry thy roisterers elsewhere--to the alehouse if theylist, and there are crowns to pay your charges--make out the day'smadness without doing more mischief, and be wise men to-morrow--andhereafter learn to serve a good cause better than by acting likebuffoons or ruffians."
Obedient to his master's mandate, the falconer was collectinghis discouraged followers, and whispering into their ears--"Away,away--_tace_ is Latin for a candle--never mind the good Knight'spuritanism--we will play the frolic out over a stand of double ale inDame Martin the Brewster's barn-yard--draw off, harp and tabor--bagpipeand drum--mum till you are out of the church-yard, then let the welkinring again--move on, wolf and bear--keep the hind legs till you crossthe kirk-stile, and then show yourselves beasts of mettle--what devilsent him here to spoil our holiday!--but anger him not, my hearts; hislance is no goose-feather, as Dan's ribs can tell."
"By my soul," said Dan, "had it been another than my ancient comrade, Iwould have made my father's old fox [Footnote: _Fox_, An old-fashionedbroadsword was often so called.] fly about his ears!"
"Hush! hush! man," replied Adam Woodcock, "not a word that way, as youvalue the safety of your bones--what man? we must take a clink as itpasses, so it is not bestowed in downright ill-will."
"But I will take no such thing," said Dan of the Howlet-hirst, suddenlyresisting the efforts of Woodcock, who was dragging him out of thechurch; when the quick military eye of Sir Halbert Glendinning detectingRoland Graeme betwixt his two guards, the Knight exclaimed, "So ho!falconer,--Woodcock,--knave, hast thou brought my Lady's page in mineown livery, to assist at this hopeful revel of thine, with your wolvesand bears? Since you were at such mummings, you might, if you would,have at least saved the credit of my household, by dressing him up as ajackanapes--bring him hither, fellows!"
Adam Woodcock was too honest and downright, to permit blame to lightupon the youth, when it was undeserved. "I swear," he said, "by SaintMartin of Bullions--" [Footnote: The Saint Swithin, or weeping Saint ofScotland. If his festival (fourth July) prove wet, forty days of rainare expected.]
"And what hast thou to do with Saint Martin?"
"Nay, little enough, sir, unless when he sends such rainy days that wecannot fly a hawk--but I say to your worshipful knighthood, that as Iam, a true man----"
"As you are a false varlet, had been the better obtestation."
"Nay, if your knighthood allows me not to speak," said Adam, "I can holdmy tongue--but the boy came not hither by my bidding, for all that."
"But to gratify his own malapert pleasure, I warrant me," said SirHalbert Glendinning--"Come hither, young springald, and tell me whetheryou have your mistress's license to be so far absent from the castle, orto dishonour my livery by mingling in such a May-game?"
"Sir Halbert Glendinning," answered Roland Graeme with steadiness, "Ihave obtained the permission, or rather the commands, of your lady, todispose of my time hereafter according to my own pleasure. I have been amost unwilling spectator of this May-game, since it is your pleasure soto call it; and I only wear your livery until I can obtain clothes whichbear no such badge of servitude."
"How am I to understand this, young man?" said Sir Halbert Glendinning;"speak plainly, for I am no reader of riddles.--That my lady favouredthee, I know. What hast thou done to disoblige her, and occasion thydismissal?"
"Nothing to speak of," said Adam Woodcock, answering for the boy--"afoolish quarrel with me, which was more foolishly told over again tomy honoured lady, cost the poor boy his place. For my part, I will sayfreely, that I was wrong from beginning to end, except about the washingof the eyas's meat. There I stand to it that I was right."
With that, the good-natured falconer repeated to his master the wholehistory of the squabble which had brought Roland Graeme into disgracewith his mistress, but in a manner so favourable for the page, that SirHalbert could not but suspect his generous motive.
"Thou art a good-natured fellow," he said, "Adam
Woodcock."
"As ever had falcon upon fist," said Adam; "and, for that matter, so isMaster Roland; but, being half a gentleman by his office, his blood issoon up, and so is mine."
"Well," said Sir Halbert, "be it as it will, my lady has acted hastily,for this was no great matter of offence to discard the lad whom shehad trained up for years; but he, I doubt not, made it worse by hisprating--it jumps well with a purpose, however, which I had in my mind.Draw off these people, Woodcock,--and you, Roland Graeme, attend me."
The page followed him in silence into the Abbot's house, where, steppinginto the first apartment which he found open, he commanded one of hisattendants to let his brother, Master Edward Glendinning, know that hedesired to speak with him. The men-at-arms went gladly off to join theircomrade, Adam Woodcock, and the jolly crew whom he had assembled at DameMartin's, the hostler's wife, and the Page and Knight were left alone inthe apartment. Sir Halbert Glendinning paced the floor for a moment insilence and then thus addressed his attendant--
"Thou mayest have remarked, stripling, that I have but seldomdistinguished thee by much notice;--I see thy colour rises, but do notspeak till thou nearest me out. I say I have never much distinguishedthee, not because I did not see that in thee which I might well havepraised, but because I saw something blameable, which such praises mighthave made worse. Thy mistress, dealing according to her pleasure in herown household, as no one had better reason or title, had picked theefrom the rest, and treated thee more like a relation than a domestic;and if thou didst show some vanity and petulance under such distinction,it were injustice not to say that thou hast profited both in thyexercises and in thy breeding, and hast shown many sparkles of a gentleand manly spirit. Moreover, it were ungenerous, having bred thee upfreakish and fiery, to dismiss thee to want or wandering, for showingthat very peevishness and impatience of discipline which arose from thytoo delicate nurture. Therefore, and for the credit of my own household,I am determined to retain thee in my train, until I can honourablydispose of thee elsewhere, with a fair prospect of thy going through theworld with credit to the house that brought thee up."
If there was something in Sir Halbert Glendinning's speech whichflattered Roland's pride, there was also much that, according to hismode of thinking, was an alloy to the compliment. And yet his conscienceinstantly told him that he ought to accept, with grateful deference, theoffer which was made him by the husband of his kind protectress; and hisprudence, however slender, could not but admit he should enter the worldunder very different auspices as a retainer of Sir Halbert Glendinning,so famed for wisdom, courage, and influence, from those under whichhe might partake the wanderings, and become an agent in the visionaryschemes, for such they appeared to him, of Magdalen, his relative.Still, a strong reluctance to re-enter a service from which he had beendismissed with contempt, almost counterbalanced these considerations.
Sir Halbert looked on the youth with surprise, and resumed--"You seem tohesitate, young man. Are your own prospects so inviting, that you shouldpause ere you accept those which I should offer to you? or, must Iremind you that, although you have offended your benefactress, even tothe point of her dismissing you, yet I am convinced, the knowledge thatyou have gone unguided on your own wild way, into a world so disturbedas ours of Scotland, cannot, in the upshot, but give her sorrow andpain; from which it is, in gratitude, your duty to preserve her, no lessthan it is in common wisdom your duty to accept my offered protection,for your own sake, where body and soul are alike endangered, should yourefuse it."
Roland Graeme replied in a respectful tone, but at the same time withsome spirit, "I am not ungrateful for such countenance as has beenafforded me by the Lord of Avenel, and I am glad to learn, for thefirst time, that I have not had the misfortune to be utterly beneath hisobservation, as I had thought--And it is only needful to show me howI can testify my duty and my gratitude towards my early and constantbenefactress with my life's hazard, and I will gladly peril it." Hestopped.
"These are but words, young man," answered Glendinning, "largeprotestations are often used to supply the place of effectual service.I know nothing in which the peril of your life can serve the Lady ofAvenel; I can only say, she will be pleased to learn you have adoptedsome course which may ensure the safety of your person, and the wealof your soul--What ails you, that you accept not that safety when it isoffered you?"
"My only relative who is alive," answered Roland, "at least the onlyrelative whom I have ever seen, has rejoined me since I was dismissedfrom the Castle of Avenel, and I must consult with her whether I canadopt the line to which you now call me, or whether her increasinginfirmities, or the authority which she is entitled to exercise over me,may not require me to abide with her."
"Where is this relation?" said Sir Halbert Glendinning.
"In this house," answered the page.
"Go then, and seek her out," said the Knight of Avenel; "more than meetit is that thou shouldst have her approbation, yet worse than foolishwould she show herself in denying it."
Roland left the apartment to seek for his grandmother; and, as heretreated, the Abbot entered.
The two brothers met as brothers who loved each other fondly, yetmeet rarely together. Such indeed was the case. Their mutual affectionattached them to each other; but in every pursuit, habit or sentiment,connected with the discords of the times, the friend and counsellor ofMurray stood opposed to the Roman Catholic priest; nor, indeed, couldthey have held very much society together, without giving cause ofoffence and suspicion to their confederates on each side. After a closeembrace on the part of both, and a welcome on that of the Abbot, SirHalbert Glendinning expressed his satisfaction that he had come in timeto appease the riot raised by Howleglas and his tumultuous followers.
"And yet," he said, "when I look on your garments, brother Edward, Icannot help thinking there still remains an Abbot of Unreason within thebounds of the Monastery."
"And wherefore carp at my garments, brother Halbert?" said the Abbot;"it is the spiritual armour of my calling, and, as such, beseems me aswell as breastplate and baldric becomes your own bosom."
"Ay, but there were small wisdom, methinks, in putting on armour wherewe have no power to fight; it is but a dangerous temerity to defy thefoe whom we cannot resist."
"For that, my brother, no one can answer," said the Abbot, "until thebattle be fought; and, were it even as you say, methinks a brave man,though desperate of victory, would rather desire to fight and fall, thanto resign sword and shield on some mean and dishonourable compositionwith his insulting antagonist. But, let not you and I make discord ofa theme on which we cannot agree, but rather stay and partake, though aheretic, of my admission feast. You need not fear, my brother, that yourzeal for restoring the primitive discipline of the church will, on thisoccasion, be offended with the rich profusion of a conventual banquet.The days of our old friend Abbot Boniface are over; and the Superior ofSaint Mary's has neither forests nor fishings, woods nor pastures, norcorn-fields;--neither flocks nor herds, bucks nor wild-fowl--granariesof wheat, nor storehouses of oil and wine, of ale and of mead. Therefectioner's office is ended; and such a meal as a hermit in romancecan offer to a wandering knight, is all we have to set before you. But,if you will share it with us, we shall eat it with a cheerful heart,and thank you, my brother, for your timely protection against these rudescoffers."
"My dearest brother," said the Knight, "it grieves me deeply I cannotabide with you; but it would sound ill for us both were one of thereformed congregation to sit down at your admission feast; and, if Ican ever have the satisfaction of affording you effectual protection,it will be much owing to my remaining unsuspected of countenancing orapproving your religious rites and ceremonies. It will demand whateverconsideration I can acquire among my own friends, to shelter the boldman, who, contrary to law and the edicts of parliament, has dared totake up the office of Abbot of Saint Mary's."
"Trouble not yourself with the task, my brother," replied FatherAmbrosius. "I would lay down my dearest blood
to know that you defendedthe church for the church's sake; but, while you remain unhappily herenemy, I would not that you endangered your own safety, or diminishedyour own comforts, for the sake of my individual protection.--But whocomes hither to disturb the few minutes of fraternal communication whichour evil fate allows us?"
The door of the apartment opened as the Abbot spoke, and Dame Magdalenentered.
"Who is this woman?" said Sir Halbert Glendinning, somewhat sternly,"and what does she want?"
"That you know me not," said the matron, "signifies little; I comeby your own order, to give my free consent that the stripling, RolandGraeme, return to your service; and, having said so, I cumber you nolonger with my presence. Peace be with you!" She turned to go away, butwas stopped by inquiries of Sir Halbert Glendinning.
"Who are you?--what are you?--and why do you not await to make meanswer?"
"I was," she replied, "while yet I belonged to the world, a matron of novulgar name; now I am Magdalen, a poor pilgrimer, for the sake of HolyKirk."
"Yea," said Sir Halbert, "art thou a Catholic? I thought my dame saidthat Roland Graeme came of reformed kin.'
"His father," said the matron, "was a heretic, or rather one whoregarded neither orthodoxy or heresy--neither the temple of the churchor of antichrist. I, too, for the sins of the times make sinners, haveseemed to conform to your unhallowed rites--but I had my dispensationand my absolution."
"You see, brother," said Sir Halbert, with a smile of meaning towardshis brother, "that we accuse you not altogether without grounds ofmental equivocation."
"My brother, you do us injustice," replied the Abbot; "this woman,as her bearing may of itself warrant you, is not in her perfect mind.Thanks, I must needs say, to the persecution of your marauding barons,and of your latitudinarian clergy."
"I will not dispute the point," said Sir Halbert; "the evils of the timeare unhappily so numerous, that both churches may divide them, and haveenow to spare." So saying, he leaned from the window of the apartment,and winded his bugle.
"Why do you sound your horn, my brother?" said the Abbot; "we have spentbut few minutes together."
"Alas!" said the elder brother, "and even these few have been sulliedby disagreement. I sound to horse, my brother--the rather that, to avertthe consequences of this day's rashness on your part, requires hastyefforts on mine.--Dame, you will oblige me by letting your youngrelative know that we mount instantly. I intend not that he shall returnto Avenel with me--it would lead to new quarrels betwixt him and myhousehold; at least to taunts which his proud heart could ill brook,and my wish is to do him kindness. He shall, therefore, go forward toEdinburgh with one of my retinue, whom I shall send back to say whathas chanced here.--You seem rejoiced at this?" he added, fixing his eyeskeenly on Magdalen Graeme, who returned his gaze with calm indifference.
"I would rather," she said, "that Roland, a poor and friendless orphan,were the jest of the world at large, than of the menials at Avenel."
"Fear not, dame--he shall be scorned by neither," answered the Knight.
"It may be," she replied--"it may well be--but I will trust more to hisown bearing than to your countenance." She left the room as she spoke.
The Knight looked after her as she departed, but turned instantly to hisbrother, and expressing, in the most affectionate terms, his wishes forhis welfare and happiness, craved his leave to depart. "My knaves," hesaid, "are too busy at the ale-stand, to leave their revelry for theempty breath of a bugle-horn."
"You have freed them from higher restraint, Halbert," answered theAbbot, "and therein taught them to rebel against your own."
"Fear not that, Edward," exclaimed Halbert, who never gave his brotherhis monastic name of Ambrosius; "none obey the command of real duty sowell as those who are free from the observance of slavish bondage."
He was turning to depart, when the Abbot said,--"Let us not yet part, mybrother--here comes some light refreshment. Leave not the house which Imust now call mine, till force expel me from it, until you have at leastbroken bread with me."
The poor lay brother, the same who acted as porter, now entered theapartment, bearing some simple refreshment, and a flask of wine. "He hadfound it," he said with officious humility, "by rummaging through everynook of the cellar."
The Knight filled a small silver cup, and, quaffing it off, asked hisbrother to pledge him, observing, the wine was Bacharac, of the firstvintage, and great age.
"Ay," said the poor lay brother, "it came out of the nook which oldbrother Nicholas, (may his soul be happy!) was wont to call AbbotIngelram's corner; and Abbot Ingelram was bred at the Convent ofWurtzburg, which I understand to be near where that choice wine grows."
"True, my reverend sir," said Sir Halbert; "and therefore I entreat mybrother and you to pledge me in a cup of this orthodox vintage."
The thin old porter looked with a wishful glance towards the Abbot. "_Doveniam_," said his Superior; and the old man seized, with a tremblinghand, a beverage to which he had been long unaccustomed; drained the cupwith protracted delight, as if dwelling on the flavour and perfume, andset it down with a melancholy smile and shake of the head, as if biddingadieu in future to such delicious potations. The brothers smiled. Butwhen Sir Halbert motioned to the Abbot to take up his cup and do himreason, the Abbot, in turn, shook his head, and replied--"This is noday for the Abbot of Saint Mary's to eat the fat and drink the sweat.In water from our Lady's well," he added, filling a cup with the limpidelement, "I wish you, brother, all happiness, and above all, a truesight of your spiritual errors."
"And to you, my beloved Edward," replied Glendinning, "I wish the freeexercise of your own free reason, and the discharge of more importantduties than are connected with the idle name which you have so rashlyassumed."
The brothers parted with deep regret; and yet, each confident in hisopinion, felt somewhat relieved by the absence of one whom he respectedso much, and with whom he could agree so little.
Soon afterwards the sound of the Knight of Avenel's trumpets was heard,and the Abbot went to the top of the tower, from whose dismantledbattlements he could soon see the horsemen ascending the rising groundin the direction of the drawbridge. As he gazed, Magdalen Graeme came tohis side.
"Thou art come," he said, "to catch the last glimpse of thy grandson,my sister. Yonder he wends, under the charge of the best knight inScotland, his faith ever excepted."
"Thou canst bear witness, my father, that it was no wish either ofmine or of Roland's," replied the matron, "which induced the Knightof Avenel, as he is called, again to entertain my grandson in hishousehold--Heaven, which confounds the wise with their own wisdom,and the wicked with their own policy, hath placed him where, for theservices of the Church, I would most wish him to be."
"I know not what you mean, my sister," said the Abbot.
"Reverend father," replied Magdalen, "hast thou never heard that thereare spirits powerful to rend the walls of a castle asunder when onceadmitted, which yet cannot enter the house unless they are invited, nay,dragged over the threshold?
[Footnote: There is a popular belief respecting evil spirits, that theycannot enter an inhabited house unless invited, nay, dragged over thethreshold. There is an instance of the same superstition in the Tales ofthe Genii, where an enchanter is supposed to have intruded himself intothe Divan of the Sultan.
"'Thus,' said the illustrious Misnar, 'let the enemies of Mahomet bedismayed! but inform me, O ye sages! under the semblance of which ofyour brethren did that foul enchanter gain admittance here?'--'May thelord of my heart,' answered Balihu, the hermit of the faithful fromQueda, 'triumph over all his foes! As I travelled on the mountains fromQueda, and saw neither the footsteps of beasts, nor the flight of birds,behold, I chanced to pass through a cavern, in whose hollow sides Ifound this accursed sage, to whom I unfolded the invitation of theSultan of India, and we, joining, journeyed towards the Divan; but erewe entered, he said unto me. 'Put thy hand forth, and pull me towardsthee into the Divan, calling on the name of Mah
omet, for the evilspirits are on me and vex me.'"
I have understood that many parts of these fine tales, and in particularthat of the Sultan Misnar, were taken from genuine Oriental sources bythe editor, Mr. James Ridley.
But the most picturesque use of this popular belief occurs inColeridge's beautiful and tantalizing fragment of Christabel. Has notour own imaginative poet cause to fear that future ages will desire tosummon him from his place of rest, as Milton longed
"To call him up, who left half told The story of Cambuscan bold?"
The verses I refer to are when Christabel conducts into her father'scastle a mysterious and malevolent being, under the guise of adistressed female stranger.
'They cross'd the moat, and Christabel Took the key that fitted well; A little door she open'd straight, All in the middle of the gate; The gate that was iron'd within and without, Where an army in battle array had march'd out.
"The lady sank, belike through pain, And Christabel with might and main Lifted her up, a weary weight, Over the threshold of the gate: Then the lady rose again, And moved as she were not in pain.
"So free from danger, free from fear, They cross'd the court;--right glad they were, And Christabel devoutly cried To the lady by her side: 'Praise we the Virgin, all divine, Who hath rescued thee from this distress.' 'Alas, alas!' said Geraldine, 'I cannot speak from weariness.' So free from danger, free from fear, They cross'd the court: right glad they were]
Twice hath Roland Graeme been thus drawn into the household of Avenel bythose who now hold the title. Let them look to the issue."
So saying she left the turret; and the Abbot, after pausing a moment onher words, which he imputed to the unsettled state of her mind, followeddown the winding stair to celebrate his admission to his high office byfast and prayer instead of revelling and thanksgiving.