The Monastery Part 25

We only see the pa.s.sing show Of human pa.s.sions' ebb and flow; And view the pageant's idle glance As mortals eye the northern dance, When thousand streamers, flashing bright, Career it o'er the brow of night.

And gazers mark their changeful gleams, But feel no influence from their beams."

"Yet thine own fate," replied Halbert, "unless men greatly err, is linked with that of mortals?"

The phantom answered,

"By ties mysterious link'd, our fated race Holds strange connexion with the sons of men.

The star that rose upon the House of Avenel, When Norman Ulric first a.s.sumed the name, That star, when culminating in its...o...b..t, Shot from its sphere a drop of diamond dew, And this bright font received it--and a Spirit Rose from the fountain, and her date of life Hath co-existence with the House of Avenel, And with the star that rules it."

"Speak yet more plainly," answered young Glendinning; "of this I can understand nothing. Say, what hath forged thy wierded [Footnote: _Wierded_--fated.] link of destiny with the House of Avenel?

Say, especially, what fate now overhangs that house?"

The White Lady replied,--

"Look on my girdle--on this thread of gold-- 'Tis fine as web of lightest gossamer.

And, but there is a spell on't, would not bind, Light as they are, the folds of my thin robe.

But when 'twas donn'd, it was a ma.s.sive chain, Such as might bind the champion of the Jews,

Even when his looks were longest--it hath dwindled, Hath minish'd in its substance and its strength, As sunk the greatness of the House of Avenel.

When this frail thread gives way. I to the elements Resign the principles of life they lent me.

Ask me no more of this!--the stars forbid it."

"Then canst thou read the stars," answered the youth; "and mayest tell me the fate of my pa.s.sion, if thou canst not aid it?"

The White Lady again replied,--

"Dim burns the once bright star of Avenel, Dim as the beacon when the morn is nigh, And the o'er-wearied warder leaves the light-house; There is an influence sorrowful and fearful.

That dogs its downward course. Disastrous pa.s.sion, Fierce hate and rivalry, are in the aspect That lowers upon its fortunes."

"And rivalry?" repeated Glendinning; "it is, then, as I feared!--But shall that English silkworm presume to beard me in my father's house, and in the presence of Mary Avenel?--Give me to meet him, spirit--give me to do away the vain distinction of rank on which he refuses me the combat. Place us on equal terms, and gleam the stars with what aspect they will, the sword of my father shall control their influences."

She answered as promptly as before,--

"Complain not of me, child of clay, If to thy harm I yield the way.

We, who soar thy sphere above, Know not aught of hate or love; As will or wisdom rules thy mood, My gifts to evil turn, or good."

"Give me to redeem my honour," said Halbert Glendinning--"give me to retort on my proud rival the insults he has thrown on me, and let the rest fare as it will. If I cannot revenge my wrong, I shall sleep quiet, and know nought of my disgrace."

The phantom failed not to reply,--

"When Piercie Shafton boasteth high, Let this token meet his eye.

The sun is westering from the dell, Thy wish is granted--fare thee well!"

As the White Lady spoke or chanted these last words, she undid from her locks a silver bodkin around which they were twisted, and gave it to Halbert Glendinning; then shaking her dishevelled hair till it fell like a veil around her, the outlines of her form gradually became as diffuse as her flowing tresses, her countenance grew pale as the moon in her first quarter, her features became indistinguishable, and she melted into the air.

Habit inures us to wonders; but the youth did not find himself alone by the fountain without experiencing, though in a much less degree, the revulsion of spirits which he had felt upon the phantom's former disappearance. A doubt strongly pressed upon his mind, whether it were safe to avail himself of the gifts of a spirit which did not even pretend to belong to the cla.s.s of angels, and might, for aught he knew, have a much worse lineage than that which she was pleased to avow. "I will speak of it," he said, "to Edward, who is clerkly learned, and will tell me what I should do. And yet, no--Edward is scrupulous and wary.--I will prove the effect of her gift on Sir Piercie Shafton, if he again braves me, and by the issue, I will be myself a sufficient judge whether there is danger in resorting to her counsel. Home, then, home--and we shall soon learn whether that home shall longer hold me; for not again will I brook insult, with my father's sword by my side, and Mary for the spectator of my disgrace."

Chapter the Eighteenth.

I give thee eighteenpence a-day, And my bow shall thou bear, And over all the north country, I make thee the chief rydere.

And I thirteenpence a-day, quoth the queen, By G.o.d and by my faye, Come fetch thy payment when thou wilt, No man shall say thee nay.

WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLEY.

The manners of the age did not permit the inhabitants of Glendearg to partake of the collation which was placed in the spence of that ancient tower, before the Lord Abbot and his attendants, and Sir Piercie Shafton. Dame Glendinning was excluded, both by inferiority of rank and by s.e.x, for (though it was a rule often neglected) the Superior of Saint Mary's was debarred from taking his meals in female society. To Mary Avenel the latter, and to Edward Glendinning the former, incapacity attached; but it pleased his lordship to require their presence in the apartment, and to say sundry kind words to them upon the ready and hospitable reception which they had afforded him.

The smoking haunch now stood upon the table; a napkin, white as snow, was, with due reverence, tucked under the chin of the Abbot by the Refectioner; and nought was wanting to commence the repast, save the presence of Sir Piercie Shafton, who at length appeared, glittering like the sun, in a carnation-velvet doublet, slashed and puffed out with cloth of silver, his hat of the newest block, surrounded by a hatband of goldsmith's work, while around his neck he wore a collar of gold, set with rubies and topazes so rich, that it vindicated his anxiety for the safety of his baggage from being founded upon his love of mere finery. This gorgeous collar or chain, resembling those worn by the knights of the highest orders of chivalry, fell down on his breast, and terminated in a medallion.

"We waited for Sir Piercie Shafton," said the Abbot, hastily a.s.suming his place in the great chair which the Kitchener advanced to the table with ready hand.

"I pray your pardon, reverend father, and my good lord," replied that pink of courtesy; "I did but wait to cast my riding slough, and to transmew myself into some civil form meeter for this worshipful company."

"I cannot but praise your gallantry, Sir Knight," said the Abbot, "and your prudence, also, for choosing the fitting time to appear thus adorned. Certes, had that goodly chain been visible in some part of your late progress, there was risk that the lawful owner might have parted company therewith."

"This chain, said your reverence?" answered Sir Piercie; "surely it is but a toy, a trifle, a slight thing which shows but poorly with this doublet--marry, when I wear that of the murrey-coloured double-piled Genoa velvet, puffed out with ciprus, the gems, being relieved and set off by the darker and more grave ground of the stuff, show like stars giving a l.u.s.tre through dark clouds."

"I nothing doubt it," said the Abbot, "but I pray you to sit down at the board."

But Sir Piercie had now got into his element, and was not easily interrupted--"I own," he continued, "that slight as the toy is, it might perchance have had some captivation for Julian--Santa Maria!"

said he, interrupting himself; "what was I about to say, and my fair and beauteous Protection, or shall I rather term her my Discretion, here in presence!--Indiscreet hath it been in your Affability, O most lovely Discretion, to suffer a stray word to have broke out of the penfold of his mouth, that might overleap the fence of civility, and trespa.s.s on the manor of decorum."

"Marry!" said the Abbot, somewhat impatiently, "the greatest discretion that I can see in the matter is, to eat our victuals being hot--Father Eustace, say the Benedicite, and cut up the haunch."

The Sub-Prior readily obeyed the first part of the Abbot's injunction, but paused upon the second--"It is Friday, most reverend," he said in Latin, desirous that the hint should escape, if possible, the ears of the stranger.

"We are travellers," said the Abbot, in reply, "and _viatoribus licitum est_--You know the canon--a traveller must eat what food his hard fate sets before him. I grant you all a dispensation to eat flesh this day, conditionally that you, brethren, say the Confiteor at curfew time, that the knight give alms to his ability, and that all and each of you fast from flesh on such day within the next month that shall seem most convenient;--wherefore fall to and eat your food with cheerful countenances, and you, Father Refectioner, _da mixtus_."

While the Abbot was thus stating the conditions on which his indulgence was granted, he had already half finished a slice of the n.o.ble haunch, and now washed it down with a flagon of Rhenish, modestly tempered with water.

"Well is it said," he observed, as he required from the Refectioner another slice, "that virtue is its own reward; for though this is but humble fare, and hastily prepared, and eaten in a poor chamber, I do not remember me of having had such an appet.i.te since I was a simple brother in the Abbey of Dundrennan, and was wont to labour in the garden from morning until nones, when our Abbot struck the _Cymbalum_. Then would I enter keen with hunger, parched with thirst, (_da mihi vinum quaeso, et merum sit_,) and partake with appet.i.te of whatever was set before us, according to our rule; feast or fast day, _caritas_ or _penitentia_, was the same to me.

I had no stomach complaints then, which now crave both the aid of wine and choice cookery, to render my food acceptable to my palate, and easy of digestion."

"It may be, holy father," said the Sub-Prior, "an occasional ride to the extremity of Saint Mary's patrimony, may have the same happy effect on your health as the air of the garden at Dundrennan."

"Perchance, with our patroness's blessing, such progresses may advantage us," said the Abbot; "having an especial eye that our venison is carefully killed by some woodsman that is master of his craft."

"If the Lord Abbot will permit me," said the Kitchener, "I think the best way to a.s.sure his lordship on that important point, would be to retain as a yeoman-p.r.i.c.ker, or deputy-ranger, the eldest son of this good woman, Dame Glendinning, who is here to wait upon us. I should know by mine office what belongs to killing of game, and I can safely p.r.o.nounce, that never saw I, or any other _coquinarius_, a bolt so justly shot. It has cloven the very heart of the buck."

"What speak you to us of one good shot, father?" said Sir Piercie; "I would advise you that such no more maketh a shooter, than doth one swallow make a summer--I have seen this springald of whom you speak, and if his hand can send forth his shafts as boldly as his tongue doth utter presumptuous speeches, I will own him as good an archer as Robin Hood."

"Marry," said the Abbot, "and it is fitting we know the truth of this matter from the dame herself; for ill advised were we to give way to any rashness in this matter, whereby the bounties which Heaven and our patroness provide might be unskilfully mangled, and rendered unfit for worthy men's use.--Stand forth, therefore, dame Glendinning, and tell to us, as thy liege lord and spiritual Superior, using plainness and truth, without either fear or favour, as being a matter wherein we are deeply interested, Doth this son of thine use his bow as well as the Father Kitchener avers to us?"

"So please your n.o.ble fatherhood," answered Dame Glendinning with a deep curtsy, "I should know somewhat of archery to my cost, seeing my husband--G.o.d a.s.soilzie him!--was slain in the field of Pinkie with an arrow-shot, while he was fighting under the Kirk's banner, as became a liege va.s.sal of the Halidome. He was a valiant man, please your reverence, and an honest; and saving that he loved a bit of venison, and shifted for his living at a time as Border-men will sometimes do, I wot not of sin that he did. And yet, though I have paid for ma.s.s after ma.s.s to the matter of a forty shilling, besides a quarter of wheat and four firlocks of rye, I can have no a.s.surance yet that he has been delivered from purgatory."

"Dame," said the Lord Abbot, "this shall be looked into heedfully; and since thy husband fell, as thou sayest, in the Kirk's quarrel, and under her banner, rely upon it that we will have him out of purgatory forthwith--that is, always provided he be there.--But it is not of thy husband whom we now devise to speak, but of thy son; not of a shot Scotsman, but of a shot deer--Wherefore, I say, answer me to the point, is thy son a practised archer, ay or no?"