The Monastery

  Chapter the Twenty-Seventh.

  Now, by Our Lady, Sheriff,'tis hard reckoning, That I, with every odds of birth and barony Should be detain'd here for the casual death Of a wild forester, whose utmost having Is but the brazen buckle of the belt In which he sticks his hedge-knife. OLD PLAY.

  While Edward was making preparations for securing and punishing thesupposed murderer of his brother, with an intense thirst for vengeance,which had not hitherto shown itself as part of his character, SirPiercie Shafton made such communications as it pleased him to theSub-Prior, who listened with great attention, though the knight'snarrative was none of the clearest, especially as his self-conceit ledhim to conceal or abridge the details which were necessary to render itintelligible.

  "You are to know," he said, "reverend father, that this rustical juvenalhaving chosen to offer me, in the presence of your venerable Superior,yourself, and other excellent and worthy persons, besides the damsel,Mary Avenel, whom I term my Discretion in all honour and kindness, agross insult, rendered yet more intolerable by the time and place,my just resentment did so gain the mastery over my discretion, that Iresolved to allow him the privileges of an equal, and to indulge himwith the combat."

  "But, Sir Knight," said the Sub-Prior, "you still leave two mattersvery obscure. First, why the token he presented to you gave you so muchoffence, as I with others witnessed; and then again, how the youth, whomyou then met for the first, or, at least, the second time, knew so muchof your history as enabled him so greatly to move you."

  The knight coloured very deeply.

  "For your first query," he said, "most reverend father, we will, if youplease, pretermit it as nothing essential to the matter in hand; andfor the second--I protest to you that I know as little of his means ofknowledge as you do, and that I am well-nigh persuaded he deals withSathanas, of which more anon.--Well, sir--In the evening, I failed notto veil my purpose with a pleasant brow, as is the custom amongst usmartialists, who never display the bloody colours of defiance in ourcountenance until our hand is armed to fight under them. I amused thefair Discretion with some canzonettes, and other toys, which could notbut be ravishing to her inexperienced ears. I arose in the morning, andmet my antagonist, who, to say truth, for an inexperienced villagio,comported himself as stoutly as I could have desired.--So, coming to theencounter, reverend sir, I did try his mettle with some half-a-dozen ofdownright passes, with any one of which I could have been through hisbody, only that I was loth to take so fatal an advantage, but rather,mixing mercy with my just indignation, studied to inflict upon himsome flesh-wound of no very fatal quality. But, sir, in the midst of myclemency, he, being instigated, I think, by the devil, did follow uphis first offence with some insult of the same nature. Whereupon, beingeager to punish him, I made an estramazone, and my foot slipping at thesame time,--not from any fault of fence on my part, or any advantage ofskill on his, but the devil having, as I said, taken up the matterin hand, and the grass being slippery,--ere I recovered my position Iencountered his sword, which he had advanced, with my undefendedperson, so that, as I think, I was in some sort run through the body.My juvenal, being beyond measure appalled at his own unexpected andunmerited success in this strange encounter, takes the flight and leavesme there, and I fall into a dead swoon for the lack of the blood Ihad lost so foolishly--and when I awake, as from a sound sleep, I findmyself lying, an it like you, wrapt up in my cloak at the foot of oneof the birch-trees which stand together in a clump near to this place.I feel my limbs, and experience little pain, but much weakness--I putmy hand to the wound--it was whole and skinned over as you now see it--Irise and come hither; and in these words you have my whole day's story."

  "I can only reply to so strange a tale," answered the monk, "that itis scarce possible that Sir Piercie Shafton can expect me to credit it.Here is a quarrel, the cause of which you conceal--a wound received inthe morning, of which there is no recent appearance at sunset,--a gravefilled up, in which no body is deposited--the vanquished found aliveand well--the victor departed no man knows whither. These things,Sir Knight, hang not so well together, that I should receive them asgospel."

  "Reverend father," answered Sir Piercie Shafton, "I pray you in thefirst place to observe, that if I offer peaceful and civil justificationof that which I have already averred to be true, I do so only in devoutdeference to your dress and to your order, protesting, that to any otheropposite, saving a man of religion, a lady or my liege prince, I wouldnot deign to support that which I had once attested, otherwise than withthe point of my good sword. And so much being premised, I have to add,that I can but gage my honour as a gentleman, and my faith as a CatholicChristian, that the things which I have described to you have happenedto me as I have described them, and not otherwise."

  "It is a deep assertion, Sir Knight," answered the Sub-Prior; "yet,bethink you, it is only an assertion, and that no reason can be allegedwhy things should be believed which are so contrary to reason. Let mepray you to say whether the grave, which has been seen at your place ofcombat, was open or closed when your encounter took place?"

  "Reverend father," said the knight, "I will veil from you nothing, butshow you each secret of my bosom; even as the pure fountain revealeththe smallest pebble which graces the sand at the bottom of its crystalmirror, and as--"

  "Speak in plain terms, for the love of heaven!" said the monk; "theseholiday phrases belong not to solemn affairs--Was the grave open whenthe conflict began?"

  "It was," answered the knight, "I acknowledge it; even as he thatacknowledgeth--"

  "Nay, I pray you, fair son, forbear these similitudes, and observe me.On yesterday at even no grave was found in that place, for old Martinchanced, contrary to his wont, to go thither in quest of a strayedsheep. At break of day, by your own confession, a grave was opened inthat spot, and there a combat was fought--only one of the combatantsappears, and he is covered with blood, and to all appearancewoundless."--Here the knight made a gesture of impatience.--"Nay, fairson, hear me but one moment--the grave is closed and covered by thesod--what can we believe, but that it conceals the bloody corpse of thefallen duellist?"

  "By Heaven, it cannot!" said the knight, "unless the juvenal hath slainhimself and buried himself, in order to place me in the predicament ofhis murderer."

  "The grave shall doubtless be explored, and that by to-morrow's dawn,"said the monk, "I will see it done with mine own eyes."

  "But," said the prisoner, "I protest against all evidence which mayarise from its contents, and do insist beforehand, that whatever may befound in that grave shall not prejudice me in my defence. I have been sohaunted by diabolical deceptions in this matter, that what do I know butthat the devil may assume the form of this rustical juvenal, in orderto procure me farther vexation?--I protest to you, holy father, it ismy very thought that there is witchcraft in all that hath befallen me.Since I entered into this northern land, in which men say that sorceriesdo abound, I, who am held in awe and regard even by the prime gallantsin the court of Feliciana, have been here bearded and taunted by aclod-treading clown. I, whom Vincentio Saviola termed his nimblest andmost agile disciple, was, to speak briefly, foiled by a cow-boy, whoknew no more of fence than is used at every country wake. I am run, asit seemed to me, through the body, with a very sufficient stoccata, andfaint on the spot; and yet, when I recover, I find myself withouteither wem or wound, and, lacking nothing of my apparel, saving mymurrey-coloured doublet, slashed with satin, which I will pray may beinquired after, lest the devil, who transported me, should have droppedit in his passage among some of the trees or bushes--it being a choiceand most fanciful piece of raiment, which I wore for the first time atthe Queen's pageant in Southwark."

  "Sir Knight," said the monk, "you do again go astray from this matter.I inquire of you respecting that which concerns the life of another man,and it may be, touches your own also, and you answer me with the tale ofan old doublet!"

  "Old!" exclaimed the knight; "now, by the g
ods and saints, if there bea gallant at the British Court more fancifully considerate, and moreconsiderately fanciful, but quaintly curious, and more curiously quaint,in frequent changes of all rich articles of vesture, becoming one whomay be accounted point-de-vice a courtier, I will give you leave to termme a slave and a liar."

  The monk thought, but did not say, that he had already acquired rightto doubt the veracity of the Euphuist, considering the marvellous talewhich he had told. Yet his own strange adventure, and that of FatherPhilip, rushed on his mind, and forbade his coming to any conclusion. Hecontented himself, therefore, with observing, that these were certainlystrange incidents, and requested to know if Sir Piercie Shafton had anyother reason for suspecting himself to be in a manner so particularlyselected for the sport of sorcery and witchcraft.

  "Sir Sub-Prior," said the Euphuist, "the most extraordinary circumstanceremains behind, which alone, had I neither been bearded in dispute, norfoiled in combat, nor wounded and cured in the space of a few hours,would nevertheless of itself, and without any other corroborative,have compelled me to believe myself the subject of some malevolentfascination. Reverend sir, it is not to your ears that men should telltales of love and gallantry, nor is Sir Piercie Shafton one who, to anyears whatsoever, is wont to boast of his fair acceptance with the choiceand prime beauties of the court; insomuch that a lady, none of the leastresplendent constellations which revolve in that hemisphere of honour,pleasure, and beauty, but whose name I here pretermit, was wont to callme her Taciturnity. Nevertheless truth must be spoken; and I cannot butallow, as the general report of the court, allowed in camps, and echoedback by city and country, that in the alacrity of the accost, the tenderdelicacy of the regard, the facetiousness of the address, the adoptingand pursuing of the fancy, the solemn close and the graceful fall-off,Piercie Shafton was accounted the only gallant of the time, and sowell accepted among the choicer beauties of the age, that no silk-hosedreveller of the presence-chamber, or plumed jouster of the tilt-yard,approached him by a bow's length in the ladies' regard, being themark at which every well-born and generous juvenal aimeth his shaft.Nevertheless, reverend sir, having found in this rude place somethingwhich by blood and birth might be termed a lady, and being desirous tokeep my gallant humour in exercise, as well as to show my sworn devotionto the sex in general, I did shoot off some arrows of compliment atthis Mary Avenel, terming her my Discretion, with other quaint andwell-imagined courtesies, rather bestowed out of my bounty thanwarranted by her merit, or perchance like unto the boyish fowler, who,rather than not exercise his bird-piece, will shoot at crows or magpiesfor lack of better game----"

  "Mary Avenel is much obliged by your notice," answered the monk; "but towhat does all this detail of past and present gallantry conduct us?"

  "Marry, to this conclusion," answered the knight; "that either this myDiscretion, or I myself, am little less than bewitched; for, instead ofreceiving my accost with a gratifying bow, answering my regard with asuppressed smile, accompanying my falling off or departure with aslight sigh--honours with which I protest to you the noblest dancers andproudest beauties in Feliciana have graced my poor services--she hathpaid me as little and as cold regard as if I had been some hob-nailedclown of these bleak mountains! Nay, this very day, while I was in theact of kneeling at her feet to render her the succours of this pungentquintessence, of purest spirit distilled by the fairest hands of thecourt of Feliciana, she pushed me from her with looks which savoured ofrepugnance, and, as I think, thrust at me with her foot as if to spurnme from her presence. These things, reverend father, are strange,portentous, unnatural, and befall not in the current of mortal affairs,but are symptomatic of sorcery and fascination. So that, having given toyour reverence a perfect, simple, and plain account of all that I knowconcerning this matter, I leave it to your wisdom to solve what may befound soluble in the same, it being my purpose to-morrow, with the peepof dawn, to set forward towards Edinburgh."

  "I grieve to be an interruption to your designs, Sir Knight," said themonk, "but that purpose of thine may hardly be fulfilled."

  "How, reverend father!" said the knight, with an air of the utmostsurprise; "if what you say respects my departure, understand that it_must_ be, for I have so resolved it."

  "Sir Knight," reiterated the Sub-Prior, "I must once more repeat, this_cannot_ be, until the Abbot's pleasure be known in the matter."

  "Reverend sir," said the knight, drawing himself up with great dignity,"I desire my hearty and thankful commendations to the Abbot; but in thismatter I have nothing to do with his reverend pleasure, designing onlyto consult my own."

  "Pardon me," said the Sub-Prior; "the Lord Abbot hath in this matter avoice potential."

  Sir Piercie Shafton's colour began to rise--"I marvel," he said, "tohear your reverence talk thus--What! will you, for the imagined deathof a rude, low-born frampler and wrangler, venture to impinge upon theliberty of the kinsman of the house of Piercie?"

  "Sir Knight," returned the Sub-Prior, civilly, "your high lineage andyour kindling anger will avail you nothing in this matter--You shallnot come here to seek a shelter, and then spill our blood as if it werewater."

  "I tell you," said the knight, "once more, as I have told you already,that there was no blood spilled but mine own!"

  "That remains to be proved," replied the Sub-Prior; "we of the communityof Saint Mary's of Kennaquhair, use not to take fairy tales in exchangefor the lives of our liege vassals."

  "We of the house of Piercie," answered Shafton, "brook neither threatsnor restraint--I say I will travel to-morrow, happen what may!"

  "And I," answered the Sub-Prior, in the same tone of determination, "saythat I will break your journey, come what may!"

  "Who shall gainsay me," said the knight, "if I make my way by force?"

  "You will judge wisely to think ere you make such an attempt," answeredthe monk, with composure; "there are men enough in the Halidome tovindicate its rights over those who dare infringe them."

  "My cousin of Northumberland will know how to revenge this usage to abeloved kinsman so near to his blood," said the Englishman.

  "The Lord Abbot will know how to protect the rights of his territory,both with, the temporal and spiritual sword," said the monk. "Besides,consider, were we to send you to your kinsman at Alnwick or Warkworthto-morrow, he dare do nothing but transmit you in fetters to the Queenof England. Bethink, Sir Knight, that you stand on slippery ground, andwill act most wisely in reconciling yourself to be a prisoner in thisplace until the Abbot shall decide the matter. There are armed men enowto countervail all your efforts at escape. Let patience and resignation,therefore, arm you to a necessary submission."

  So saying, he clapped his hands, and called aloud. Edward entered,accompanied by two young men who had already joined him, and were wellarmed.

  "Edward," said the Sub-Prior, "you will supply the English Knight herein this spence with suitable food and accommodation for the night,treating him with as much kindness as if nothing had happened betweenyou. But you will place a sufficient guard, and look carefully that hemake not his escape. Should he attempt to break forth, resist him tothe death; but in no other case harm a hair of his head, as you shall beanswerable."

  Edward Glendinning replied,--"That I may obey your commands, reverendsir, I will not again offer myself to this person's presence; for shameit were to me to break the peace of the Halidome, but not less shame toleave my brother's death unavenged."

  As he spoke, his lips grew livid, the blood forsook his cheek, and hewas about to leave the apartment, when the Sub-Prior recalled him andsaid in a solemn tone,--"Edward, I have known you from infancy--I havedone what lay within my reach to be of use to you--I say nothing of whatyou owe to me as the representative of your spiritual Superior--I saynothing of the duty from the vassal to the Sub-Prior--But Father Eustaceexpects from the pupil whom he has nurtured--he expects from EdwardGlendinning, that he will not by any deed of sudden violence, howeverjustified in his own mind by the provocation, break thro
ugh the respectdue to public justice, or that which he has an especial right to claimfrom him."

  "Fear nothing, my reverend father, for so in an hundred senses may Iwell term you," said the young man; "fear not, I would say, that I willin any thing diminish the respect I owe to the venerable community bywhom we have so long been protected, far less that I will do aughtwhich can be personally less than respectful to you. But the blood ofmy brother must not cry for vengeance in vain--your reverence knows ourBorder creed."

  "'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, and I will requite it,'" answeredthe monk. "The heathenish custom of deadly feud which prevails in thisland, through which each man seeks vengeance at his own hand when thedeath of a friend or kinsman has chanced, hath already deluged our valeswith the blood of Scottish men, spilled by the hands of countrymen andkindred. It were endless to count up the fatal results. On the EasternBorder, the Homes are at feud with the Swintons and Cockburns; in ourMiddle Marches, the Scotts and Kerrs have spilled as much brave bloodin domestic feud as might have fought a pitched field in England, couldthey have but forgiven and forgotten a casual rencounter that placedtheir names in opposition to each other. On the west frontier, theJohnstones are at war with the Maxwells, the Jardines with the Bells,drawing with them the flower of the country, which should place theirbreasts as a bulwark against England, into private and bloody warfare,of which it is the only end to waste and impair the forces of thecountry, already divided in itself. Do not, my dear son Edward, permitthis bloody prejudice to master your mind. I cannot ask you to thinkof the crime supposed as if the blood spilled had been less dearto you--Alas! I know that is impossible. But I do require you, inproportion to your interest in the supposed sufferer, (for as yet thewhole is matter of supposition,) to bear on your mind the evidence onwhich the guilt of the accused person must be tried. He hath spokenwith me, and I confess his tale is so extraordinary, that I should have,without a moment's hesitation, rejected it as incredible, but that anaffair which chanced to myself in this very glen--More of that anothertime--Suffice it for the present to say, that from what I have myselfexperienced, I deem it possible, that, extraordinary as Sir PiercieShafton's story may seem, I hold it not utterly impossible."

  "Father," said Edward Glendinning, when he saw that his preceptorpaused, unwilling farther to explain upon what grounds he was inclinedto give a certain degree of credit to Sir Piercie Shafton's story,while he admitted it as improbable--"Father to me you have been in everysense. You know that my hand grasped more readily to the book than tothe sword; and that I lacked utterly the ready and bold spirit whichdistinguished----" Here his voice faltered, and he paused for a moment,and then went on with resolution and rapidity--"I would say, that I wasunequal to Halbert in promptitude of heart and of hand; but Halbertis gone, and I stand his representative, and that of my father--hissuccessor in all his rights," (while he said this his eyes shot fire,)"and bound to assert and maintain them as he would have done--thereforeI am a changed man, increased in courage as in my rights andpretensions. And, reverend father, respectfully, but plainly andfirmly do I say, his blood, if it has been shed by this man, shall beatoned--Halbert shall not sleep neglected in his lonely grave, as ifwith him the spirit of my father had ceased forever. His blood flowsin my veins, and while his has been poured forth unrequited, mine willpermit me no rest. My poverty and meanness of rank shall not avail thelordly murderer. My calm nature and peaceful studies shall not be hisprotection. Even the obligations, holy father, which I acknowledge toyou, shall not be his protection. I wait with patience the judgment ofthe Abbot and Chapter, for the slaughter of one of their most ancientlydescended vassals. If they do right to my brother's memory, it is well.But mark me, father, if they shall fail in rendering me that justice, Ibear a heart and a hand which, though I love not such extremities,are capable of remedying such an error. He who takes up my brother'ssuccession must avenge his death."

  The monk perceived with surprise, that Edward, with his extremediffidence, humility, and obedient assiduity, for such were his generalcharacteristics, had still boiling in his veins the wild principles ofthose from whom he was descended, and by whom he was surrounded. Hiseyes sparkled, his frame was agitated, and the extremity of his desirefor vengeance seemed to give a vehemence to his manner resembling therestlessness of joy.

  "May God help us," said Father Eustace, "for, frail wretches as we are,we cannot help ourselves under sudden and strong temptation.--Edward, Iwill rely on your word that you do nothing rashly."

  "That will I not," said Edward,--"that, my better than father, Isurely will not. But the blood of my brother,--the tears of mymother--and--and--and of Mary Avenel, shall not be shed in vain. I willnot deceive you, father--if this Piercie Shafton hath slain my brother,he dies, if the whole blood of the whole house of Piercie were in hisveins."

  There was a deep and solemn determination in the utterance of EdwardGlendinning expressive of a rooted resolution. The Sub-Prior sigheddeeply, and for the moment yielded to circumstances, and urged theacquiescence of his pupil no farther. He commanded lights to be placedin the lower chamber, which for a time he paced in silence.

  A thousand ideas, and even differing principles, debated with each otherin his bosom. He greatly doubted the English knight's account ofthe duel, and of what had followed it. Yet the extraordinary andsupernatural circumstances which had befallen the Sacristan and himselfin that very glen, prevented him from being absolutely incredulous onthe score of the wonderful wound and recovery of Sir Piercie Shafton,and prevented him from at once condemning as impossible that whichwas altogether improbable. Then he was at a loss how to control thefraternal affections of Edward, with respect to whom he felt somethinglike the keeper of a wild animal, a lion's whelp or tiger's cub, whichhe has held under his command from infancy, but which, when grown tomaturity, on some sudden provocation displays his fangs and talons,erects his crest, resumes his savage nature, and bids defiance at onceto his keeper and to all mankind.

  How to restrain and mitigate an ire which the universal example of thetimes rendered deadly and inveterate, was sufficient cause of anxietyto Father Eustace. But he had also to consider the situation ofhis community, dishonoured and degraded by submitting to suffer theslaughter of a vassal to pass unavenged; a circumstance which of itselfmight in those times have afforded pretext for a revolt among theirwavering adherents, or, on the other hand, exposed the community toimminent danger, should they proceed against a subject of England ofhigh degree, connected with the house of Northumberland, and othernorthern families of high rank, who, as they possessed the means, couldnot be supposed to lack inclination, to wreak upon the patrimony ofSaint Mary of Kennaquhair, any violence which might be offered to theirkinsman.

  In either case, the Sub-Prior well knew that the ostensible cause offeud, insurrection, or incursion, being once afforded, the case wouldnot be ruled either by reason or by evidence, and he groaned in spiritwhen, upon counting up the chances which arose in this ambiguousdilemma, he found he had only a choice of difficulties. He was a monk,but he felt also as a man, indignant at the supposed slaughter of youngGlendinning by one skilful in all the practice of arms, in which thevassal of the Monastery was most likely to be deficient; and to aid theresentment which he felt for the loss of a youth whom he had knownfrom infancy, came in full force the sense of dishonour arising to hiscommunity from passing over so gross an insult unavenged. Then the lightin which it might be viewed by those who at present presided in thestormy Court of Scotland, attached as they were to the Reformation, andallied by common faith and common interest with Queen Elizabeth, wasa formidable subject of apprehension. The Sub-Prior well knew how theylusted after the revenues of the Church, (to express it in the ordinaryphrase of the religious of the time,) and how readily they would graspat such a pretext for encroaching on those of Saint Mary's, as wouldbe afforded by the suffering to pass unpunished the death of a nativeScottishman by a Catholic Englishman, a rebel to Queen Elizabeth.

  On the other hand, to deliver up to
England, or, which was nearly thesame thing, the Scottish administration, an English knight leagued withthe Piercie by kindred and political intrigue, a faithful follower ofthe Catholic Church, who had fled to the Halidome for protection, was,in the estimation of the Sub-Prior, an act most unworthy in itself, andmeriting the malediction of Heaven, besides being, moreover, fraughtwith great temporal risk. If the government of Scotland was now almostentirely in the hands of the Protestant party, the Queen was still aCatholic, and there was no knowing when, amid the sudden changes whichagitated that tumultuous country, she might find herself at the head ofher own affairs, and able to protect those of her own faith. Then,if the Court of England and its Queen were zealously Protestant, thenorthern counties, whose friendship or enmity were of most consequencein the first instance to the community of Saint Mary's, contained manyCatholics, the heads of whom were able, and must be supposed willing, toavenge any injury suffered by Sir Piercie Shafton.

  On either side, the Sub-Prior, thinking, according to his sense of duty,most anxiously for the safety and welfare of his Monastery, saw thegreatest risk of damage, blame, inroad, and confiscation. The onlycourse on which he could determine, was to stand by the helm like aresolute pilot, watch every contingence, do his best to weather eachreef and shoal, and commit the rest to heaven and his patroness.

  As he left the apartment, the knight called after him, beseeching hewould order his trunk-mails to be sent into his apartment, understandinghe was to be guarded there for the night, as he wished to make somealteration in his apparel.

  [Footnote: Sir Piercie Shafton's extreme love of dress was an attributeof the coxcombs of this period. The display made by their forefatherswas in the numbers of their retinue; but as the actual influence ofthe nobility began to be restrained both in France and England by theincreasing power of the crown, the indulgence of vanity in personaldisplay became more inordinate. There are many allusions to this changeof custom in Shakspeare and other dramatic writers, where the reader mayfind mention made of

  "Bonds enter'd into For gay apparel against the triumph day."

  Jonson informs us, that for the first entrance of a gallant, "'tweregood you turned four or five hundred acres of your best land into two orthree trunks of apparel."--_Every Man out of his Humour._

  In the Memorie of the Somerville family, a curious instance occurs ofthis fashionable species of extravagance. In the year 1537, when JamesV. brought over his shortlived bride from France, the Lord Somervilleof the day was so profuse in the expense of his apparel, that the moneywhich he borrowed on the occasion was compensated by a perpetual annuityof threescore pounds Scottish, payable out of the barony of Carnwarthtill doomsday, which was assigned by the creditor to Saint Magdalen'sChapel. By this deep expense the Lord Somerville had rendered himself soglorious in apparel, that the King, who saw so brave a gallant enter thegate of Holyrood, followed, by only two pages, called upon several ofthe courtiers to ascertain who it could be who was so richly dressedand so slightly attended, and he was not recognised until he entered thepresence-chamber. "You are very brave, my lord," said the King, as hereceived his homage; "but where are all your men and attendants?" TheLord Somerville readily answered, "If it please your Majesty, here theyare," pointing to the lace that was on his own and his pages' clothes:whereat the King laughed heartily, and having surveyed the finery morenearly, bade him have away with it all, and let him have his stout bandof spears again.

  There is a scene in Jonson's "Every Man out of his Humour," (Act IV.Scene 6.) in which a Euphuist of the time gives an account of theeffects of a duel on the clothes of himself and his opponent, and neverdeparts a syllable from the catalogue of his wardrobe. We shall insertit in evidence that the foppery of our ancestors was not inferior tothat of our own time.

  "_Fastidius_. Good faith, Signior, now you speak of a quarrel, I'llacquaint you with a difference that happened between a gallant andmyself, Sir Puntarvolo. You know him if I should name him--SignorLuculento.

  "_Punt_. Luculento! What inauspicious chance interposed itself to yourtwo lives?

  "_Fast_. Faith, sir, the same that sundered Agamemnon, and great Thetis'son; but let the cause escape, sir. He sent me a challenge, mixt withsome few braves, which I restored; and, in fine, we met. Now indeed,sir, I must tell you, he did offer at first very desperately, butwithout judgment; for look you, sir, I cast myself into this figure;now he came violently on, and withal advancing his rapier to strike, Ithought to have took his arm, for he had left his body to my election,and I was sure he could not recover his guard. Sir, I mist my purpose inhis arm, rashed his doublet sleeves, ran him close by the left cheekand through his hair. He, again, light me here--I had on a gold cablehat-band, then new come up, about a murrey French hat I had; cuts myhat-band, and yet it was massy goldsmith's work, cuts my brim, which,by good fortune, being thick embroidered with gold twist and spangles,disappointed the force of the blow; nevertheless it grazed on myshoulder, takes me away six purls of an Italian cut-work band I wore,cost me three pounds in the Exchange but three days before.

  "_Punt_. This was a strange encounter.

  "_Fast_. Nay, you shall hear, sir. With this, we both fell out andbreathed. Now, upon the second sign of his assault, I betook me to myformer manner of defence; he, on the other side, abandoned his body tothe same danger as before, and follows me still with blows; but I, beingloath to take the deadly advantage that lay before me of his left side,made a kind of stramazoun, ran him up to the hilt through the doublet,through the shirt, and yet missed the skin. He, making a reverse blow,falls upon my embossed girdle,--I had thrown off the hangers a littlebefore,--strikes off a skirt of a thick-laced satin doublet I had, linedwith four taffetas, cuts off two panes embroidered with pearl, rendsthrough the drawings-out of tissue, enters the linings, and spiks theflesh.

  "_Car_. I wonder he speaks not of his wrought shirt.

  "_Fast_. Here, in the opinion of mutual damage, we paused. But, ereI proceed, I must tell you, signior, that in the last encounter, nothaving leisure to put off my silver spurs, one of the rowels catchedhold of the ruffles of my boot, and, being Spanish leather and subjectto tear, overthrows me, rends me two pair of silk stockings that I puton, being somewhat of a raw morning, a peach colour and another, andstrikes me some half-inch deep into the side of the calf: He, seeing theblood come, presently takes horse and away; I having bound up my woundwith a piece of my wrought shirt--

  "_Car_. O, comes it in there.

  "_Fast_. Ride after him, and, lighting at the court gate both together,embraced, and marched hand in hand up into the presence. Was not thisbusiness well carried?

  "_Maci_. Well! yes; and by this we can guess what apparel the gentlemanwore.

  "_Punt_. 'Fore valour! it was a designment begun with much resolution,maintained with as much prowess, and ended with more humanity."]

  "Ay, ay," said the monk, muttering as he went up the winding stair,"carry him his trumpery with all despatch. Alas! that man, with so manynoble objects of pursuit, will amuse himself like a jackanape, with alaced jerkin and a cap and bells!--I must now to the melancholy work ofconsoling that which is well-nigh inconsolable, a mother weeping for herfirst-born."

  Advancing, after a gentle knock, into the apartment of the women, hefound that Mary Avenel had retired to bed, extremely indisposed, andthat Dame Glendinning and Tibb were indulging their sorrows by the sideof a decaying fire, and by the light of a small iron lamp, or cruize,as it was termed. Poor Elspeth's apron was thrown over her head, andbitterly did she sob and weep for "her beautiful, her brave,--the veryimage of her dear Simon Glendinning, the stay of her widowhood and thesupport of her old age."

  The faithful Tibb echoed her complaints, and, more violently clamorous,made deep promises of revenge on Sir Piercie Shafton, "if there were aman left in the south who could draw a whinger, or a woman that couldthraw a rape." The presence of the Sub-Prior imposed silence on theseclamours. He sate down by the unfortunate mother, and essayed, by suchtopics as his religion and rea
son suggested, to interrupt the current ofDame Glendinning's feelings; but the attempt was in vain. She listened,indeed, with some little interest, while he pledged his word andhis influence with the Abbot, that the family which had lost theireldest-born by means of a guest received at his command, shouldexperience particular protection at the hands of the community; andthat the fief which belonged to Simon Glendinning should, with extendedbounds and added privileges, be conferred on Edward.

  But it was only for a very brief space that the mother's sobs wereapparently softer, and her grief more mild. She soon blamed herselffor casting a moment's thought upon world's gear while poor Halbertwas lying stretched in his bloody shirt. The Sub-Prior was not morefortunate, when he promised that Halbert's body "should be removed tohallowed ground, and his soul secured by the prayers of the Church inhis behalf." Grief would have its natural course, and the voice of thecomforter was wasted in vain.