Chapter the Nineteenth.
It is and is not--'tis the thing I sought for, Have kneel'd for, pray'd for, risk'd my fame and life for, And yet it is not--no more than the shadow Upon the hard, cold, flat, and polished mirror, Is the warm, graceful, rounded, living substance Which it presents in form and lineament. OLD PLAY.
The usher, with gravity which ill concealed a jealous scowl, conductedRoland Graeme to a lower apartment, where he found his comrade thefalconer. The man of office then briefly acquainted them that this wouldbe their residence till his Grace's farther orders; that they were to goto the pantry, to the buttery, to the cellar, and to the kitchen, atthe usual hours, to receive the allowances becoming theirstation,--instructions which Adam Woodcock's old familiarity with thecourt made him perfectly understand--"For your beds," he said, "you mustgo to the hostelry of Saint Michael's, in respect the palace is now fullof the domestics of the greater nobles."
No sooner was the usher's back turned than Adam exclaimed with allthe glee of eager curiosity, "And now, Master Roland, the news--thenews--come unbutton thy pouch, and give us thy tidings--What says theRegent? asks he for Adam Woodcock?--and is all soldered up, or must theAbbot of Unreason strap for it?"
"All is well in that quarter," said the page; "and for the rest--But,hey-day, what! have you taken the chain and medal off from my bonnet?"
"And meet time it was, when yon usher, vinegar-faced rogue that he is,began to inquire what Popish trangam you were wearing.--By the mass, themetal would have been confiscated for conscience-sake, like your otherrattle-trap yonder at Avenel, which Mistress Lilias bears about on hershoes in the guise of a pair of shoe-buckles--This comes of carryingPopish nicknackets about you."
"The jade!" exclaimed Roland Graeme, "has she melted down my rosary intobuckles for her clumsy hoofs, which will set off such a garnish nearlyas well as a cow's might?--But, hang her, let her keep them--many adog's trick have I played old Lilias, for want of having somethingbetter to do, and the buckles will serve for a remembrance. Do youremember the verjuice I put into the comfits, when old Wingate and shewere to breakfast together on Easter morning?"
"In troth do I, Master Roland--the major-domo's mouth was as crooked asa hawk's beak for the whole morning afterwards, and any other page inyour room would have tasted the discipline of the porter's lodge for it.But my Lady's favour stood between your skin and many a jerking--Lordsend you may be the better for her protection in such matters!"
"I am least grateful for it, Adam! and I am glad you put me in mind ofit."
"Well, but the news, my young master," said Woodcock, "spell me thetidings--what are we to fly at next?--what did the Regent say to you?"
"Nothing that I am to repeat again," said Roland Graeme, shaking hishead.
"Why, hey-day," said Adam, "how prudent we are become all of a sudden!You have advanced rarely in brief space, Master Roland. You have wellnigh had your head broken, and you have gained your gold chain, and youhave made an enemy, Master Usher to wit, with his two legs like hawks'perches, and you have had audience of the first man in the realm, andbear as much mystery in your brow, as if you had flown in the court-skyever since you were hatched. I believe, in my soul, you would run with apiece of the egg-shell on your head like the curlews, which (I would wewere after them again) we used to call whaups in the Halidome and itsneighbourhood. But sit thee down, boy; Adam Woodcock was never the ladto seek to enter into forbidden secrets--sit thee down, and I will goand fetch the vivers--I know the butler and the pantler of old."
The good-natured falconer set forth upon his errand, busying himselfabout procuring their refreshment; and, during his absence, RolandGraeme abandoned himself to the strange, complicated, and yetheart-stirring reflections, to which the events of the morning had givenrise. Yesterday he was of neither mark nor likelihood; a vagrant boy,the attendant on a relative, of whose sane judgment he himself hadnot the highest opinion; but now he had become, he knew not why, orwherefore, or to what extent, the custodier, as the Scottish phrasewent, of some important state secret, in the safe keeping of which theRegent himself was concerned. It did not diminish from, but rather addedto the interest of a situation so unexpected, that Roland himselfdid not perfectly understand wherein he stood committed by the statesecrets, in which he had unwittingly become participator. On thecontrary, he felt like one who looks on a romantic landscape, of whichhe sees the features for the first time, and then obscured with mist anddriving tempest. The imperfect glimpse which the eye catches of rocks,trees, and other objects around him, adds double dignity to theseshrouded mountains and darkened abysses, of which the height, depth, andextent, are left to imagination.
But mortals, especially at the well-appetized age which precedes twentyyears, are seldom so much engaged either by real or conjectural subjectsof speculation, but that their earthly wants claim their hour ofattention. And with many a smile did our hero, so the reader may termhim if he will, hail the re-appearance of his friend Adam Woodcock,bearing on one platter a tremendous portion of boiled beef, and onanother a plentiful allowance of greens, or rather what the Scotch calllang-kale. A groom followed with bread, salt, and the other means ofsetting forth a meal; and when they had both placed on the oaken tablewhat they bore in their hands, the falconer observed, that since he knewthe court, it had got harder and harder every day to the poor gentlemenand yeoman retainers, but that now it was an absolute flaying of a fleafor the hide and tallow. Such thronging to the wicket, and suchchurlish answers, and such bare beef-bones, such a shouldering atthe buttery-hatch and cellarage, and nought to be gained beyond smallinsufficient single ale, or at best with a single straike of malt tocounterbalance a double allowance of water--"By the mass, though, myyoung friend," said he, while he saw the food disappearing fast underRoland's active exertions, "it is not so to well to lament for formertimes as to take the advantage of the present, else we are like to loseon both sides."
So saying, Adam Woodcock drew his chair towards the table, unsheathedhis knife, (for every one carried that minister of festive distributionfor himself,) and imitated his young companion's example, who for themoment had lost his anxiety for the future in the eager satisfaction ofan appetite sharpened by youth and abstinence.
In truth, they made, though the materials were sufficiently simple, avery respectable meal, at the expense of the royal allowance; and AdamWoodcock, notwithstanding the deliberate censure which he had passed onthe household beer of the palace, had taken the fourth deep draughtof the black jack ere he remembered him that he had spoken in itsdispraise. Flinging himself jollily and luxuriously back in an olddanske elbow-chair, and looking with careless glee towards the page,extending at the same time his right leg, and stretching the othereasily over it, he reminded his companion that he had not yet heardthe ballad which he had made for the Abbot of Unreason's revel. Andaccordingly he struck merrily up with
"The Pope, that pagan full of pride, Has blinded us full lang."------
Roland Graeme, who felt no great delight, as may be supposed, in thefalconer's satire, considering its subject, began to snatch up hismantle, and fling it around his shoulders, an action which instantlyinterrupted the ditty of Adam Woodcock.
"Where the vengeance are you going now," he said, "thou restlessboy?--Thou hast quicksilver in the veins of thee to a certainty, andcanst no more abide any douce and sensible communing, than a hoodlesshawk would keep perched on my wrist!"
"Why, Adam," replied the page, "if you must needs know, I am about totake a walk and look at this fair city. One may as well be still mewedup in the old castle of the lake, if one is to sit the live-long nightbetween four walls, and hearken to old ballads."
"It is a new ballad--the Lord help thee!" replied Adam, "and that one ofthe best that ever was matched with a rousing chorus."
"Be it so," said the page, "I will hear it another day, when the rainis dashing against the windows, and there is neither steed stamping, norspur jingling, nor feather waving in
the neighbourhood to mar my markingit well. But, even now, I want to be in the world, and to look aboutme."
"But the never a stride shall you go without me," said the falconer,"until the Regent shall take you whole and sound off my hand; and so, ifyou will, we may go to the hostelrie of Saint Michael's, and there youwill see company enough, but through the casement, mark you me; for asto rambling through the street to seek Seytons and Leslies, and havinga dozen holes drilled in your new jacket with rapier and poniard, I willyield no way to it."
"To the hostelrie of Saint Michael's, then, with all my heart," said thepage; and they left the palace accordingly, rendered to the sentinelsat the gate, who had now taken their posts for the evening, a strictaccount of their names and business, were dismissed through a smallwicket of the close-barred portal, and soon reached the inn or hostelrieof Saint Michael, which stood in a large court-yard, off the mainstreet, close under the descent of the Calton-hill. The place, wide,waste, and uncomfortable, resembled rather an Eastern caravansary, wheremen found shelter indeed, but were obliged to supply themselves withevery thing else, than one of our modern inns;
Where not one comfort shall to those be lost, Who never ask, or never feel, the cost.
But still, to the inexperienced eye of Roland Graeme, the bustle andconfusion of this place of public resort, furnished excitement andamusement. In the large room, into which they had rather found their ownway than been ushered by mine host, travellers and natives of the cityentered and departed, met and greeted, gamed or drank together, formingthe strongest contrast to the stern and monotonous order and silencewith which matters were conducted in the well-ordered household of theKnight of Avenel. Altercation of every kind, from brawling to jesting,was going on amongst the groups around them, and yet the noise andmingled voices seemed to disturb no one and indeed to be noticed byno others than by those who composed the group to which the speakerbelonged.
The falconer passed through the apartment to a projecting latticedwindow, which formed a sort of recess from the room itself; andhaving here ensconced himself and his companion, he called for somerefreshments; and a tapster, after he had shouted for the twentiethtime, accommodated him with the remains of a cold capon and a neat'stongue, together with a pewter stoup of weak French vin-de-pays. "Fetcha stoup of brandy-wine, thou knave--We will be jolly to-night, MasterRoland," said he, when he saw himself thus accommodated, "and let carecome to-morrow."
But Roland had eaten too lately to enjoy the good cheer; and feeling hiscuriosity much sharper than his appetite, he made it his choice tolook out of the lattice, which overhung a large yard, surrounded by thestables of the hostelrie, and fed his eyes on the busy sight beneath,while Adam Woodcock, after he had compared his companion to the "Lairdof Macfarlane's geese, who liked their play better than their meat,"disposed of his time with the aid of cup and trencher, occasionallyhumming the burden of his birth-strangled ballad, and beating time toit with his fingers on the little round table. In this exercise he wasfrequently interrupted by the exclamations of his companion, as he sawsomething new in the yard beneath, to attract and interest him.
It was a busy scene, for the number of gentlemen and nobles who were nowcrowded into the city, had filled all spare stables and places of publicreception with their horses and military attendants. There were somescore of yeomen, dressing their own or their masters' horses in theyard, whistling, singing, laughing, and upbraiding each other, in astyle of wit which the good order of Avenel Castle rendered strangeto Roland Graeme's ears. Others were busy repairing their own arms, orcleaning those of their masters. One fellow, having just bought a bundleof twenty spears, was sitting in a corner, employed in painting thewhite staves of the weapons with yellow and vermillion. Other lacqueysled large stag-hounds, or wolf-dogs, of noble race, carefully muzzled toprevent accidents to passengers. All came and went, mixed together andseparated, under the delighted eye of the page, whose imagination hadnot even conceived a scene so gaily diversified with the objects hehad most pleasure in beholding; so that he was perpetually breaking thequiet reverie of honest Woodcock, and the mental progress which he wasmaking in his ditty, by exclaiming, "Look here, Adam--look at the bonnybay horse--Saint Anthony, what, a gallant forehand he hath got!--and seethe goodly gray, which yonder fellow in the frieze-jacket is dressingas awkwardly as if he had never touched aught but a cow--I would I werenigh him to teach him his trade!--And lo you, Adam, the gay Milan armourthat the yeoman is scouring, all steel and silver, like our Knight'sprime suit, of which old Wingate makes such account--And see to yonderpretty wench, Adam, who comes tripping through them all with hermilk-pail--I warrant me she has had a long walk from the loaning; shehas a stammel waistcoat, like your favourite Cicely Sunderland, MasterAdam!"
"By my hood, lad," answered the falconer, "it is well for thee thou wertbrought up where grace grew. Even in the Castle of Avenel thou werta wild-blood enough, but hadst thou been nurtured here, within aflight-shot of the Court, thou hadst been the veriest crack-hemp of apage that ever wore feather in thy bonnet or steel by thy side: truly, Iwish it may end well with thee."
"Nay, but leave thy senseless humming and drumming, old Adam, and cometo the window ere thou hast drenched thy senses in the pint-pot there.See here comes a merry minstrel with his crowd, and a wench with him,that dances with bells at her ankles; and see, the yeomen and pagesleave their horses and the armour they were cleaning, and gather round,as is very natural, to hear the music. Come, old Adam, we will thithertoo."
"You shall call me cutt if I do go down," said Adam; "you are near asgood minstrelsy as the stroller can make, if you had but the grace tolisten to it."
"But the wench in the stammel waistcoat is stopping too, Adam--byheaven, they are going to dance! Frieze-jacket wants to dance withstammel waistcoat, but she is coy and recusant."
Then suddenly changing his tone of levity into one of deep interest andsurprise, he exclaimed, "Queen of Heaven! what is it that I see!" andthen remained silent.
The sage Adam Woodcock, who was in a sort of languid degree amused withthe page's exclamations, even while he professed to despise them, becameat length rather desirous to set his tongue once more a-going, that hemight enjoy the superiority afforded by his own intimate familiaritywith all the circumstances which excited in his young companion's mindso much wonderment.
"Well, then," he said at last, "what is it you do see, Master Roland,that you have become mute all of a sudden?"
Roland returned no answer.
"I say, Master Roland Graeme," said the falconer, "it is manners in mycountry for a man to speak when he is spoken to."
Roland Graeme remained silent.
"The murrain is in the boy," said Adam Woodcock, "he has stared out hiseyes, and talked his tongue to pieces, I think."
The falconer hastily drank off his can of wine, and came to Roland,who stood like a statue, with his eyes eagerly bent on the court-yard,though Adam Woodcock was unable to detect amongst the joyous sceneswhich it exhibited aught that could deserve such devoted attention.
"The lad is mazed!" said the falconer to himself.
But Roland Graeme had good reasons for his surprise, though they werenot such as he could communicate to his companion.
The touch of the old minstrel's instrument, for he had already begun toplay, had drawn in several auditors from the street when one entered thegate of the yard, whose appearance exclusively arrested the attention ofRoland Graeme. He was of his own age, or a good deal younger, and fromhis dress and bearing might be of the same rank and calling, having allthe air of coxcombry and pretension, which accorded with a handsome,though slight and low figure, and an elegant dress, in part hid bya large purple cloak. As he entered, he cast a glance up towards thewindows, and, to his extreme astonishment, under the purple velvetbonnet and white feather, Roland recognized the features so deeplyimpressed on his memory, the bright and clustered tresses, the laughingfull blue eyes, the well-formed eyebrows, the nose, with the slightestpossible inclination to be aqu
iline, the ruby lip, of which an arch andhalf-suppressed smile seemed the habitual expression--in short, the formand face of Catherine Seyton; in man's attire, however, and mimicking,as it seemed, not unsuccessfully, the bearing of a youthful but forwardpage.
"Saint George and Saint Andrew!" exclaimed the amazed Roland Graeme tohimself, "was there ever such an audacious quean!--she seems a littleashamed of her mummery too, for she holds the lap of her cloak to herface, and her colour is heightened--but Santa Maria, how she threads thethrong, with as firm and bold a step as if she had never tied petticoatround her waist!--Holy Saints! she holds up her riding-rod as if shewould lay it about some of their ears, that stand most in her way--bythe hand of my father! she bears herself like the very model ofpagehood.--Hey! what! sure she will not strike frieze-jacket inearnest?" But he was not long left in doubt; for the lout whom he hadbefore repeatedly noticed, standing in the way of the bustling page, andmaintaining his place with clownish obstinacy or stupidity, the advancedriding-rod was, without a moment's hesitation, sharply applied to hisshoulders, in a manner which made him spring aside, rubbing the part ofthe body which had received so unceremonious a hint that it was in theway of his betters. The party injured growled forth an oath or two ofindignation, and Roland Graeme began to think of flying down stairs tothe assistance of the translated Catherine; but the laugh of the yardwas against frieze-jacket, which indeed had, in those days, smallchance of fair play in a quarrel with velvet and embroidery; so thatthe fellow, who was menial in the inn, slunk back to finish his task ofdressing the bonny gray, laughed at by all, but most by the wench in thestammel waistcoat, his fellow-servant, who, to crown his disgrace, hadthe cruelty to cast an applauding smile upon the author of the injury,while, with a freedom more like the milk-maid of the town than she ofthe plains, she accosted him with--"Is there any one you want here, mypretty gentleman, that you seem in such haste?"
"I seek a sprig of a lad," said the seeming gallant, "with a sprig ofholly in his cap, black hair, and black eyes, green jacket, and the airof a country coxcomb--I have sought him through every close and alley inthe Canongate, the fiend gore him!"
"Why, God-a-mercy, Nun!" muttered Roland Graeme, much bewildered.
"I will inquire him presently out for your fair young worship," said thewench of the inn.
"Do," said the gallant squire, "and if you bring me to him, you shallhave a groat to-night, and a kiss on Sunday when you have on a cleanerkirtle."
"Why, God-a-mercy, Nun!" again muttered Roland, "this is a note above ELa."
In a moment after, the servant entered the room, and ushered in theobject of his surprise.
While the disguised vestal looked with unabashed brow, and bold andrapid glance of her eye, through the various parties in the large oldroom, Roland Graeme, who felt an internal awkward sense of bashfulconfusion, which he deemed altogether unworthy of the bold and dashingcharacter to which he aspired, determined not to be browbeaten andput down by this singular female, but to meet her with a glance ofrecognition so sly, so penetrating, so expressively humorous, as shouldshow her at once he was in possession of her secret and master of herfate, and should compel her to humble herself towards him, at least intothe look and manner of respectful and deprecating observance.
This was extremely well planned; but just as Roland had called up theknowing glance, the suppressed smile, the shrewd intelligent look, whichwas to ensure his triumph, he encountered the bold, firm, and steadygaze of his brother or sister-page, who, casting on him a falcon glance,and recognizing him at once as the object of his search, walked up withthe most unconcerned look, the most free and undaunted composure, andhailed him with "You, Sir Holly-top, I would speak with you."
The steady coolness and assurance with which these words were uttered,although the voice was the very voice he had heard at the old convent,and although the features more nearly resembled those of Catharine whenseen close than when viewed from a distance, produced, nevertheless,such a confusion in Roland's mind, that he became uncertain whether hewas not still under a mistake from the beginning; the knowing shrewdnesswhich should have animated his visage faded into a sheepish bashfulness,and the half-suppressed but most intelligible smile, became thesenseless giggle of one who laughs to cover his own disorder of ideas.
"Do they understand a Scotch tongue in thy country, Holly-top?" saidthis marvellous specimen of metamorphosis. "I said I would speak withthee."
"What is your business with my comrade, my young chick of the game?"said Adam Woodcock, willing to step in to his companion's assistance,though totally at a loss to account for the sudden disappearance of allRoland's usual smartness and presence of mind.
"Nothing to you, my old cock of the perch," replied the gallant; "gomind your hawk's castings. I guess by your bag and your gauntlet thatyou are squire of the body to a sort of kites."
He laughed as he spoke, and the laugh reminded Roland so irresistiblyof the hearty fit of risibility, in which Catherine had indulged at hisexpense when they first met in the old nunnery, that he could scarcehelp exclaiming, "Catherine Seyton, by Heavens!"--He checked theexclamation, however, and only said, "I think, sir, we two are nottotally strangers to each other."
"We must have met in our dreams then" said the youth; "and my days aretoo busy to remember what I think on at nights."
"Or apparently to remember upon one day those whom you may have seen onthe preceding eve" said Roland Graeme.
The youth in his turn cast on him a look of some surprise, as hereplied, "I know no more of what you mean than does the horse I rideon--if there be offence in your words, you shall find me ready to takeit as any lad in Lothian."
"You know well," said Roland, "though it pleases you to use the languageof a stranger, that with you I have no purpose to quarrel."
"Let me do mine errand, then, and be rid of you," said the page. "Stephither this way, out of that old leathern fist's hearing."
They walked into the recess of the window, which Roland had left uponthe youth's entrance into the apartment. The messenger then turned hisback on the company, after casting a hasty and sharp glance around tosee if they were observed. Roland did the same, and the page in thepurple mantle thus addressed him, taking at the same time from under hiscloak a short but beautifully wrought sword, with the hilt and ornamentsupon the sheath of silver, massively chased and over-gilded--"I bringyou this weapon from a friend, who gives it you under the solemncondition, that you will not unsheath it until you are commanded byyour rightful Sovereign. For your warmth of temper is known, and thepresumption with which you intrude yourself into the quarrels of others;and, therefore, this is laid upon you as a penance by those who wish youwell, and whose hand will influence your destiny for good or for evil.This is what I was charged to tell you. So if you will give a fair wordfor a fair sword, and pledge your promise, with hand and glove, good andwell; and if not, I will carry back Caliburn to those who sent it."
"And may I not ask who these are?" said Roland Graeme, admiring at thesame time the beauty of the weapon thus offered him.
"My commission in no way leads me to answer such a question," said he ofthe purple mantle.
"But if I am offended" said Roland, "may I not draw to defend myself?"
"Not _this_ weapon," answered the sword-bearer; "but you have your ownat command, and, besides, for what do you wear your poniard?"
"For no good," said Adam Woodcock, who had now approached close to them,"and that I can witness as well as any one."
"Stand back, fellow," said the messenger, "thou hast an intrusivecurious face, that will come by a buffet if it is found where it has noconcern."
"A buffet, my young Master Malapert?" said Adam, drawing back, however;"best keep down fist, or, by Our Lady, buffet will beget buffet!"
"Be patient, Adam Woodcock," said Roland Graeme; "and let me prayyou, fair sir, since by such addition you choose for the present tobe addressed, may I not barely unsheathe this fair weapon, in puresimplicity of desire to know whether so fair a hilt
and scabbard arematched with a befitting blade?"
"By no manner of means," said the messenger; "at a word, you musttake it under the promise that you never draw it until you receive thecommands of your lawful Sovereign, or you must leave it alone."
"Under that condition, and coming from your friendly hand, I accept ofthe sword," said Roland, taking it from his hand; "but credit me, if weare to work together in any weighty emprise, as I am induced to believe,some confidence and openness on your part will be necessary to give theright impulse to my zeal--I press for no more at present, it is enoughthat you understand me."
"I understand you!" said the page, exhibiting the appearance ofunfeigned surprise in his turn,--"Renounce me if I do!--here you standjiggeting, and sniggling, and looking cunning, as if there were somemighty matter of intrigue and common understanding betwixt you and me,whom you never set your eyes on before!"
"What!" said Roland Graeme, "will you deny that we have met before?"
"Marry that I will, in any Christian court," said the other page.
"And will you also deny," said Roland, "that it was recommended to usto study each other's features well, that in whatever disguise the timemight impose upon us, each should recognize in the other the secretagent of a mighty work? Do not you remember, that Sister Magdalen andDame Bridget----"
The messenger here interrupted him, shrugging up his shoulders, witha look of compassion, "Bridget and Magdalen! why, this is madnessand dreaming! Hark ye, Master Holly-top, your wits are gone onwool-gathering; comfort yourself with a caudle, and thatch yourbrain-sick noddle with a woollen night-cap, and so God be with you!"
As he concluded this polite parting address, Adam Woodcock, who wasagain seated by the table on which stood the now empty can, said to him,"Will you drink a cup, young man, in the way of courtesy, now you havedone your errand, and listen to a good song?" and without waiting for ananswer, he commenced his ditty,--
"The Pope, that pagan full of pride, Hath blinded us full lang--"
It is probable that the good wine had made some innovation in thefalconer's brain, otherwise he would have recollected the danger ofintroducing any thing like political or polemical pleasantry into apublic assemblage at a time when men's minds were in a state of greatirritability. To do him justice, he perceived his error, and stoppedshort so soon as he saw that the word Pope had at once interrupted theseparate conversations of the various parties which were assembled inthe apartment; and that many began to draw themselves up, bridle, lookbig, and prepare to take part in the impending brawl; while others,more decent and cautious persons, hastily paid down their lawing, andprepared to leave the place ere bad should come to worse.
And to worse it was soon likely to come; for no sooner did Woodcock'sditty reach the ear of the stranger page, than, uplifting hisriding-rod, he exclaimed, "He who speaks irreverently of the Holy Fatherof the church in my presence, is the cub of a heretic wolf-bitch, and Iwill switch him as I would a mongrel-cur."
"And I will break thy young pate," said Adam, "if thou darest to lift afinger to me." And then, in defiance of the young Drawcansir's threats,with a stout heart and dauntless accent, he again uplifted the stave.
"The Pope, that pagan full of pride. Hath blinded--"
But Adam was able to proceed no farther, being himself unfortunatelyblinded by a stroke of the impatient youth's switch across his eyes.Enraged at once by the smart and the indignity, the falconer startedup, and darkling as he was, for his eyes watered too fast to permithis seeing any thing, he would soon have been at close grips with hisinsolent adversary, had not Roland Graeme, contrary to his nature,played for once the prudent man and the peacemaker, and thrown himselfbetwixt them, imploring Woodcock's patience. "You know not," he said,"with whom you have to do.--And thou," addressing the messenger, whostood scornfully laughing at Adam's rage, "get thee gone, whoeverthou art; if thou be'st what I guess thee, thou well knowest there areearnest reasons why thou shouldst."
"Thou hast hit it right for once, Holly-top," said the gallant, "thoughI guess you drew your bow at a venture.--Here, host, let this yeomanhave a bottle of wine to wash the smart out of his eyes--and there isa French crown for him." So saying, he threw the piece of money on thetable, and left the apartment, with a quick yet steady pace, lookingfirmly at right and left, as if to defy interruption: and snapping hisfingers at two or three respectable burghers, who, declaring it was ashame that any one should be suffered to rant and ruffle in defence ofthe Pope, were labouring to find the hilts of their swords, which hadgot for the present unhappily entangled in the folds of their cloaks.But, as the adversary was gone ere any of them had reached his weapon,they did not think it necessary to unsheath cold iron, but merelyobserved to each other, "This is more than masterful violence, to seea poor man stricken in the face just for singing a ballad against thewhore of Babylon! If the Pope's champions are to be bangsters in ourvery change-houses, we shall soon have the old shavelings back again."
"The provost should look to it," said another, "and have some five orsix armed with partisans, to come in upon the first whistle, to teachthese gallants their lesson. For, look you, neighbour Lugleather, itis not for decent householders like ourselves to be brawling with thegodless grooms and pert pages of the nobles, that are bred up to littleelse save bloodshed and blasphemy."
"For all that, neighbour," said Lugleather, "I would have curried thatyoungster as properly as ever I curried a lamb's hide, had not the hiltof my bilbo been for the instant beyond my grasp; and before I couldturn my girdle, gone was my master!"
"Ay," said the others, "the devil go with him, and peace abide withus--I give my rede, neighbours, that we pay the lawing, and be steppinghomeward, like brother and brother; for old Saint Giles's is tollingcurfew, and the street grows dangerous at night."
With that the good burghers adjusted their cloaks, and prepared fortheir departure, while he that seemed the briskest of the three, layinghis hand on his Andrea Ferrara, observed, "that they that spoke in thepraise of the Pope on the High-gate of Edinburgh, had best bring thesword of Saint Peter to defend them."
While the ill-humour excited by the insolence of the young aristocratwas thus evaporating in empty menace, Roland Graeme had to control thefar more serious indignation of Adam Woodcock. "Why, man, it was but aswitch across the mazzard--blow your nose, dry your eyes, and you willsee all the better for it."
"By this light, which I cannot see," said Adam Woodcock, "thou hast beena false friend to me, young man--neither taking up my rightful quarrel,nor letting me fight it out myself."
"Fy for shame, Adam Woodcock," replied the youth, determined to turnthe tables on him, and become in turn the counsellor of good order andpeaceable demeanour--"I say, fy for shame!--Alas, that you will speakthus! Here are you sent with me, to prevent my innocent youth gettinginto snares----"
"I wish your innocent youth were cut short with a halter, with all myheart," said Adam, who began to see which way the admonition tended.--"And instead of setting before me," continued Roland, "an example ofpatience and sobriety becoming the falconer of Sir Halbert Glendinning,you quaff me off I know not how many flagons of ale, besides a gallon ofwine, and a full measure of strong waters."
"It was but one small pottle," said poor Adam, whom consciousness of hisown indiscretion now reduced to a merely defensive warfare.
"It was enough to pottle you handsomely, however," said the page--"Andthen, instead of going to bed to sleep off your liquor, must you sitsinging your roistering songs about popes and pagans, till you have gotyour eyes almost switched out of your head; and but for my interference,whom your drunken ingratitude accuses of deserting you, yon galliardwould have cut your throat, for he was whipping out a whinger as broadas my hand, and as sharp as a razor--And these are lessons for aninexperienced youth!--Oh, Adam! out upon you! out upon you!"
"Marry, amen, and with all my heart," said Adam; "out upon my folly forexpecting any thing but impertinent raillery from a page like thee, thatif he saw his father i
n a scrape, would laugh at him, instead of lendinghim aid.
"Nay, but I will lend you aid," said the page, still laughing, "that is,I will lend thee aid to thy chamber, good Adam, where thou shalt sleepoff wine and ale, ire and indignation, and awake the next morning withas much fair wit as nature has blessed thee withal. Only one thingI will warn thee, good Adam, that henceforth and for ever, when thourailest at me for being somewhat hot at hand, and rather too prompt toout with poniard or so, thy admonition shall serve as a prologue to thememorable adventure of the switching of Saint Michael's."
With such condoling expressions he got the crest-fallen falconer to hisbed, and then retired to his own pallet, where it was some time erehe could fall asleep. If the messenger whom he had seen were reallyCatherine Seyton, what a masculine virago and termagant must she be! andstored with what an inimitable command of insolence and assurance!--Thebrass on her brow would furbish the front of twenty pages; "and I shouldknow," thought Roland, "what that amounts to--And yet, her features, herlook, her light gait, her laughing eye, the art with which she disposedthe mantle to show no more of her limbs than needs must be seen--I amglad she had at least that grace left--the voice, the smile--it musthave been Catherine Seyton, or the devil in her likeness! One thingis good, I have silenced the eternal predications of that ass, AdamWoodcock, who has set up for being a preacher and a governor, over me,so soon as he has left the hawks' mew behind him."
And with this comfortable reflection, joined to the happy indifferencewhich youth hath for the events of the morrow, Roland Graeme fell fastasleep.