The monastery; The abbot.

THE ABBOT. 369
violence, had prevailed with the magistrates to keep a constant guard on
foot for preventing or separating such affrays as had happened in the present case.
The falconer and his young companion were now riding down the Canongate, and had slackened their pace to avoid attracting attention, the rather
that there seemed to be no appearance of pursuit. Roland hung his head
as one who was conscious his conduct had been none of the wisest, whilst
his companion thus addressed him:
"Will you be pleased to tell me one thing, Master Roland Grweme, and
tbhat is, whether there be a devil incarnate in you or no?'
"Truly, Master Adam Woodcock," answered the page, "I would fain
hope there is not."
" Then," said Adam, " I would fain know by what other influence or in.
stigation you are perpetually at one end or the other of some bloody brawl?
What, I pray, had you to do with these Seytons and Leslies, that you never
heard the names of in your life before?"
"You are out there, my friend," said Roland Groeme, "I have my own
reasons for being a friend to the Seytons."
" They must have been very secret reasons then," answered Adam Woodcock, "for I think I could have wagered, you had never known one of the
name; and I am apt to believe still, that it was your unhallowed passion
for that clashing of cold iron, which has as much charm for you as the
clatter of a brass pan hath for a hive of bees, rather than any care either
for Seyton or for Leslie, that persuaded you to thrust your fool's head into
a quarrel that no ways concerned you. But take this for a warning, my
young master, that if you are to draw sword with every man who draws
sword on the Highgate here, it will be scarce worth your while to sheathe
bilbo again for the rest of your life, since, if I guess rightly, it will scarce
endure on such terms for many hours -all which I leave to your serious
consideration."
"By my word, Adam, I honour your advice; and I promise you, that I
will practise by it-as faithfully as if I were sworn apprentice to you, to the
trade and mystery of bearing myself with all wisdom and safety throughl
the new paths of life that I am about to be engaged in."
" And therein you will do well," said the falconer; " and I do not quarrel
with you, Master Roland, for having a grain over much spirit, because I
know one may bring to the hand a wild hawk which one never can a dunghill hen and so betwixt two faults you have the best on't. But besides
your peculiar genius for quarrelling and lugging out your side companion,
my dear Master Roland, you have also the gift of peering under every
woman's muffler and screen, as if you expected to find an old acquaintance.
Though were you to spy one, I should be as much surprised at it, well
wotting how few you have seen of these same wild-fowl, as I was at your
taking so deep an interest even now in the Seyton."
"Tush, man! nonsense and folly," answered Roland Grieme, "I but
sought to see what eyes these gentle hawks have got under their hood."
"Ay, but it's a dangerous subject of inquiry," said the falconer; "you
had better hold out your bare wrist for an eagle to perch upon.-Look you,
Master Roland, these pretty wild-geese cannot be hawked at without riskthey have as many divings, boltings, and volleyings, as the most gamesome
quarry that falcon ever flew at-And besides, every woman of them is
manned with her husband, or her kind friend, or her brother, or her cousin,
or her sworn servant at the least —But you heed me not, Master Roland,
though I know the game so well-your eye is all on that pretty damsel
who trips down the gate before us —by my certes, I will warrant her a
blithe dancer either in reel or revel —a pair of silver morisco Dells would
become these pretty ankles as well as the jesses would suit the fairest
Norway hawk."
VOL. V. 24