The monastery; The abbot.

352 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
some caprioles of the hobby-horse, and some wallops of the dragon, to
rouse once more the rebuked spirit of revelry.
"And how now, my masters?" said the Abbot of Unreason; "and
wherefore look on me with such blank Jack-a-Lent visages? Will you lose
your old pastime for an old wife's tale of saints and purgatory? Why, I
thoeught you would have made all split long since- Come, strike up, tabor
and harp, strike up, fiddle and rebeck-dance and be merry to-day, and let
care come to-morrow. Bear and wolf, look to your prisoner-prance,
hobby - hiss, dragon, and halloo, boys - we grow older every moment we
stand idle, and life is too short to be spent in playing mumchance."
This pithy exhortation was attended with the effect desired. They fumigated the Church with burnt wool and feathers instead of incense, put foul
water into the holy-water basins, and celebrated a parody on the Church*service, the mock Abbot officiating at the altar; they sung ludicrous and
indecent parodies, to the tunes of church hymns; they violated whatever
vestments or vessels belonging to the Abbey they could lay their hands
upon; and, playing every freak which the whim of the moment could suggest to their wild caprice, at length they fell to more lasting deeds of demolition, pulled down and destroyed some carved wood-work, dashed out the
painted windows which had escaped former violence, and in their rigorous
search after sculpture dedicated to idolatry, began to destroy what ornaments yet remained entire upon the tombs, 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 the meeting
began to meditate destruction on a more extended scale-" Let us heave it
down altogether, the old crow's nest," became a general cry among them;
"it has served the Pope and his rooks too long;" and up they struck a
ballad which was then popular among the lower classes.*
"The Paip, that pagan fill of pride,'The Bishop rich, he could not preach
Hatlh blinded us ower lang. For sporting with the lasses;
For where the blind the blind doth lead, The silly friar behoved to fleech
No marvel baith gae wrang. For awmrous as he passes
Like prince and king,'The curate his creed
He led the rint He could not read,Of all iliqiity. Shame fi the company!
Sing hai trix, trim-go-trix, Sing hay trix, trimt-go-trix,
Uinder the greenwood tree. Under the greenwood tree."
Thundering out this chorus of a notable hunting song, which had been
pressed into the service of some polemical poet, the followers of the Abbot
of Unreason were turning every moment more tumultuous, and getting beyond the management even of that reverend prelate himself, when a knight
in full armour, followed by two or three men-at-arms, entered the church,
and in a stern voice commanded them to forbear their riotous mummery.
His visor was up, but if it had been lowered, the cognizance of the hollybranch sufficiently distinguished Sir Halbert Glendinning, who, on his
homeward road, was passing through the village of Kennaquhair; and
moved, perhaps, by anxiety for his brother's safety, had come directly to
the church on hearing of the uproar.
"What is the meaning of this," he said, "my masters? are ye Christian
men, and the king's subjects, and yet waste and destroy church and chancel
like so many heathens?"
All stood silent, though doubtless there were several disappointed and
surprised at receiving chiding instead of thanks from so zealous a protestant.
* These rude rhymes are taken, with some trifling alterations, from a ballad called Trim-go-trix. It.eccurs in a singular collection, entitled, " A Compendious Book of Godly and Spirittal Songs, collected out
of sundrie parts of the Scripture,with sundry of other hallatis changed out of prophane sanges. for avoyding
of sin and harlotrie, with Augmrentation of sundrie Gude and Godly Ballates. Edinburgh, printed by Andro
Hart.." This curious collection has been reprinted in Mr. John Grahame Dalyell's Scottish Poems of the 16th
entur y F'din. 1801,2 vols.