Volume Ii Part 4 (2/2)
The friar stepped forward to the window, and gazed for a minute in breathless astonishment; then turning away, he added in a solemn tone, ”Verily, my children, I am afraid to look at the face of the sky, or to behold the hues that are abroad on the firmament this day, though my strength be the munition of rocks.”
The steward now appeared with his rod of office in his hand, and, with all due ceremony, marshalled his guests up the great stair, and finally up a small winding stair, to an apartment at the very top of the upmost tower, above all the turrets and paved battlements. This room was in a blaze of light with flaming torches all around; and (joyful sight to our precious emba.s.sy!) the table was covered with rich viands in great abundance. The friar, having got short of breath in his ascent, lagged considerably behind, while the foremost rus.h.i.+ng in, every one began to help himself with the greatest avidity; so that, when the friar at length came puffing into the apartment, all the rest had begun without grace. The seat at the foot of the table was still unoccupied; and before that there stood a beautiful smoking sirloin of beef, with a gentle brown crust around it, and half swimming in gravy. Never was there a more delicious sight presented to a hungry man.
The worthy friar, seeing all the rest engaged, would not risk a trespa.s.s on good manners by interrupting them, although it was an established custom with him to bless every meal before tasting it. In conformity with this venerable custom among Christians, he lifted up his spread hands, closed his eyes, and leaning forward above the beef so closely that he actually breathed upon it, and felt the flavour of health and joy ascending by his nostrils, in that fervent and respectful att.i.tude he blessed the beef in the name of Jesus. Never had blessing a more dolorous effect. When the friar opened his eyes, the beef was gone.
There was nothing left on the great wooden plate before him but a small insignificant thing resembling the joint of a frog's leg, or that of a rat; and perhaps two or three drops of gravy.
The friar's a.s.sociates were all busily engaged. The steward was moving about behind them, and at that time happened to be pa.s.sing by near where the friar sat; of course, this latter worthy had no doubt whatever but that the malicious old rascal had stolen the roast slyly from under his nose the moment that his eyes were closed, whereas the steward was as much astounded as he. It was a fine picture. The friar had placed himself hastily to begin; but, missing his beef, and seeing nothing of it on the board, he was moved with great anger and indignation. There he sat, biting his lip, and having his deep dark eye fixed on the seneschal; and there stood the tall seneschal, with his mouth wide open, his face half raised toward the cornice of the chamber, and his dull heavy eye fixed on the friar's plate. He was in utter dismay; for he dreaded that, on such a blessing being p.r.o.nounced openly, the whole of his provisions would in like manner vanish away; and he was a blithe man when, instead of blessing, the friar, on opening his mouth, was rather inclined to curse.
”Cursed be thy malice, for it is great,” cried he: ”Thou Nabal! thou Rabshakeh! thou s.h.i.+mei, the son of b.i.+.c.hri! thou Er! thou Onan! thou vile Judas, the son of Simon! Magormissabub be thy name; and may it be blotted out after thee, and become a bye-word, and a proverb, and a hissing among people and children. Restore that which thou hast unjustly taken away, before I thrust my sword into thee, and take away thy life.
Give unto me the precious morsel thou hast taken away, or, lo! thou art in the jaws of destruction, and the pit openeth her mouth wide upon thee.”
The steward answered neither good nor bad; for he was afraid of the vengeance of his master, and the evil spirits that wrought at his bidding, and delighted in nothing so much as in tormenting him, else had he not taken the friar's curses without repaying them sevenfold. He therefore shut his mouth, and closed his eyes, putting on a countenance of the utmost derision. But the friar's heart had been set upon the beef, his soul had rejoiced over it, and he could not with patience give way to the idea of losing it; therefore, instead of joining the rest, who were devouring their various fare with great eagerness, he continued his anathemas on the steward.
”Blethering gouk!” cried Charlie: ”Can nae ye tak part o' what's gaun, and haud your jaw? What signify a' thae strings o' gospel phrases at sic a time as this? Will they fill a hungry stamock, or mak the worthy seneschal either better or waur than he is? Come pledge me in a cup o'
wine to the health of our great landlord, Master Michael Scott.”
They handed the stoup down to the friar, who filled for himself, and took the pledge, though still with a gloomy and a discontented brow. He then left his seat, and went up one side of the board, close to Gibbie Jordan, where he began a-helping himself to a slice, from a mangled shoulder of venison apparently. But it relished not,--for still the lost beef was uppermost in his mind, and his eye glanced hot displeasure at the steward.
”Surely he is of all men the most accursed,” added he: ”He drinketh up malice as the ox drinketh up water; and as his name is so is he.
Whereunto he hath conveyed the morsel that I loved, is a matter too high for me to comprehend. I see it not in any corner of the habitation, nor doth the smell of it reach my nostrils. But I will visit it upon his head; and mine eyes shall see my desire on him.”
The dishes of meat were, however, of good quality, and well mixed with fat and lean; yet none of them knew exactly what they were, neither would the sullen steward deign to give them the least information on that head. There was even one large shapeless piece, of a savour and consistence so peculiar that no one of them could tell whether it was flesh or fish. Still they continued their perseverance, devouring one dish after another, and drinking off one stoup of wine after another, without any abatement of appet.i.te on the one side or any exhiliration of spirits on the other, the steward always bringing in a supply with the most perfect equanimity. At length our yeomen began to look at one another. Their hands had waxed weary with cutting, and their jaws would scarcely any more perform their office.
”What is the meaning of this, my brethren,” said the friar: ”Surely it is better for us to desist, lest our table prove a snare unto us. Lo, my hands are weary, and my cheek-bones are pained even to their utmost extremities. Verily, it is all vanity, for my body is only filled as with the east wind.”
”Na, na; ply away. It's good sport. I dinna see how we can be better employed,” said the deil's Tam.
”I think, my brethren, that we should from eating straight refrain,”
said the poet; ”for eating is but weariness, and drinking is but pain.
There is no strength into our bread, nor spirit in our wine: some warlock wight has ta'en the might out of this food of mine.”
The steward had all this time never spoken word good or bad; but had served them with the utmost obsequiousness; and when they had at length ceased from feeding, he went and gave the Master an account of the repast, which proved a source of great divertis.e.m.e.nt to him.
”I have not,” said he, ”for these many years, had any desire to trifle with the beings to whose species I once belonged; but this group surpa.s.ses all of their kind. I will, therefore, lay aside my profound studies, and be with them as one of themselves. If it were but to torment them, I will indulge in this idle and vain humour. I have almost forgot how human pa.s.sions work.”
”I pray of thee, Master,” said Gourlay, ”that thou wilt suffer me to slay yon grim and snarling dog in the grey frock. I loathe, hate, and abhor him. He is, moreover, a bit of a necromancer himself; and has the insolence to suppose that he can rival you in power.”
”It is there I long to try him,” said the Master. ”In power I brook no rival in this or any other land, as thou thyself, and thy wretched companion in bondage, can witness. There is only one thing in this weak man in shape of a friar that I fear, and that thing shall be nameless.
Perhaps I may commission thee to take him away. In the mean time, remove the remainder of their wretched viands, and bring me in a vessel full of the strong wine of Palestine, mixed up with the essence of many spirits.
It is a beverage fit for G.o.ds. In it will I pledge these deranged mortals; and thou shalt see some sport for once, if aught on earth can divert thee.”
”Certes I shall be diverted, great Master of arts. I hope you will favour them with a touch of _the varieties_, by way of example?”
”By and by, Gourlay,--all in good time. In the mean while, let us deal with them as men and as gentlemen; and, before I metamorphose them into quadrupeds, let us see what kind of beings they will make of themselves.”
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