The monastery; The abbot.

THE MONASTERY. 121
stare of a miller's maiden. More might I say of the exchange of the conversation of gallant knights and gay courtiers of mine own order and
capacity, whose conceits are bright and vivid as the lightning, for that of
monks and churchmen - but it were discourteous %o urge that topic."
The Abbot listened to this list of complaints with great round eyes, which
evinced no exact intelligence of the orator's meaning; and when the knight
paused to take breath, he looked with a doubtful -and inquiring eye at the
Sub-Prior, not well knowing in what tone he should reply to an exordium
so extraordinary.. The Sub-Prior accordingly stepped in to the relief of his
principal.
"We deeply sympathize with you, Sir Knight, in the several mortifications and hardships to which fate has subjected you, particularly in that
which has thrown you into the society of those, who, as they were conscious
they deserved not such an honour, so neither did they at all desire it. But
all this goes little way to expound the cause of this train of disasters, or, in
plainer words, the reason which has compelled you into a situation having
so few charms for you."
"Gentle and reverend sir," replied the knight, "forgive an unhappy person, who, in giving a history of his miseries, dilateth upon them extremely,
even as he who, having fallen from a precipice, looketh upward to measure
the height from which he hath been precipitated."
"Yea, but," said Father Eustace, "methinks it were wiser in him to tell
those who come to lift him up, which of his bones have been broken."
" You, reverend sir," said the knight, " have, in the encounter of our wits,
made a fair attaint; whereas I may be in some sort said to have broken my
staff across.* Pardon me, grave sir, that I speak in the language of the
tilt-yard, which is doubtless strange to your reverend years. -Ah! brave
resort of the noble, the fair and the gay! - Ah! throne of love, and citadel
of honour!- Ah! celestial beauties, by whose bright eyes it is graced!
Never more shall Piercie Shafton advance, as the centre of your radiant
glances, couch his lance, and spur his horse at the sound of the spirit-stirring
trumpets, nobly called the voice of war —never more shall he baffle his
adversary's encounter boldly, break his spear dexterously, and ambling
around the lovely circle, receive the rewards with which beauty honours
chivalry!"
liere he paused, wrung his hands, looked upwards, and seemed lost in
contemplation of his own fallen fortunes.
" Mad, very mad," whispered the Abbot to the Sub-Prior; "I would we
were fairly rid of him; for, of a truth, I expect he will proceed from raving
to mischief-Were it not better to call up the rest of the brethren?"
But the Sub-Prior knew better than his Superior how to distinguish the
jargon of affectation from the ravings of insanity, and although the extremity
of the knight's passion seemed altogether fantastic, yet he was not ignorant
to what extravagancies the fashion of the day can conduct its votaries.
Allowing, therefore, two minutes' space to permit the knight's enthusiastic
feelings to exhaust themselves, he again gravely reminded him that the
Lord Abbot had taken a journey, unwonted to his age and habits, solely to
learn in what he could serve Sir Piercie Shafton-that it was altogether
impossible he could do so without his receiving distinct information of the
situation in which he had now sought refuge in Scotland. —" The day wore
on," he observed, looking at the window; " and if the Abbot should be
obliged to return to the Monastery without obtaining the necessary intelligence, the regret might be mutual, but the inconvenience was like to be all
on Sir Piercie's own side."
The hint was not thrown away.
* Attaint was a term of tilting used to express the champion's having attained his mark, or, in other words,
struck his lance straight and fair against the helmet or breast of his adversary. Whereas to break the lance
across, intiinated a total failure in directing the point of the weapon on the object of his aim.
L