The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

64 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
"And what saw'st thou there?" once more demanded Everard.
"Nay, no great matter, as I said before," replied the cavalier; "for in
these times it is no new thing to see churls carousing in royal or noble
chambers. I saw two rascallions engaged in emptying a solemn stoup of
strong waters, and dispatching a huge venison pasty, which greasy mess,
for their convenience, they had placed on a lady's work-table -One of
them was trying an air on a lute."
" The profane villains!" exclaimed Everard, " it was Alice's."
" Well said, comrade-I am glad your phlegm can be moved. I did but
throw in these incidents of the lute and the table, to try if it was possible
to get a spark of human spirit out of you, besanctified as you are."
"What like were the men?" said young Everard.
" The one a slouch-hatted, long-cloaked, sour-faced fanatic, like the rest
of you, whom I took to be the steward or commissary I heard spoken of in
the town; the other was a short sturdy fellow, with a wood-knife at his
girdle, and a long quarterstaff lying beside him-a black-haired knave,
with white teeth and a merry countenance-one of the under-rangers or
bow-bearers of these walks, I fancy."
" They must have been Desborough's favourite, trusty Tomkins," said
Everard, "and Joceline Joliffe, the keeper. Tomkins is Desborough's right
hand -an Independent, and hath pourings forth, as he calls them. Some
think that his gifts have the better of his grace. I have heard of his
abusing opportunities."
" They were improving them when I saw them," replied Wildrake, " and
made the bottle smoke for it -when, as the devil would have it, a stone,
which had been dislodged from the crumbling buttress, gave way under my
weight. A clumsy fellow like thee would have been so long thinking what
was to be done, that he must needs have followed it before he could make
up his mind; but I, Mark, I hopped like a squirrel to an ivy twig, and stood
fast-was wellnigh shot, though, for the noise alarmed them both. They
looked to the oriel, and saw me on the outside; the fanatic fellow took out
a pistol- as they have always such texts in readiness hanging beside the
little clasped Bible, thou know'st - the keeper seized his hunting-pole - I
treated them both to a roar and a grin - thou must know I can grimace
like a baboon -I learned the trick from a French player, who could twist
his jaws into a pair of nut-crackers —and therewithal I dropped myself
sweetly on the grass, and ran off so trippingly, keeping the dark side of
the wall as long as I could, that I am wellnigh persuaded they thought I
was their kinsman, the devil, come among them uncalled. They were
abominably startled."
" Thou art most fearfully rash, Wildrake," said his companion; " we are
now bound for the house -what if they should remember thee?"
"Why, it is no treason, is it? No one has paid for peeping since Tom
of Coventry's days; and if he came in for a reckoning, belike it was for a
better treat than mine. But trust me, they will no more know me, than a
man who had only seen your friend Noll at a conventicle of saints, would
know the same Oliver on horseback, and charging with his lobster-tailed
squadron; or the same Noll cracking a jest and a bottle with wicked Waller
the poet."
" Hush! not a word of Oliver, as thou dost value thyself and me. It is
ill jesting with the rock you may split on. - But here is the gate - we will
disturb these honest gentlemen's recreations."
As he spoke, he applied the large and ponderous knocker to the hall-door.
"Rat-tat-tat-too 1" said Wildrake; "there is a fine alarm to you cuckolds and round-heads." He then half-mimicked, half-sung the march so
called: -
"Cuckolds, come dig, cuckolds, come dig;
Round about cockolds, come dance to my jig!"