many a smile did our hero, so the reader may term him if he will, hail the re-appearance of his friend Adam Woodcock, bearing on one wooden platter a tremendous portion of boiled beef, and on another a plentiful allowance of greens, or rather what the Scotch call lang-kail. A groom followed with bread, salt, and the other means of setting forth a meal; and when they had both placed on the oaken table what they bore in their hands, the falconer observed, that since he knew the court, it got harder and harder every day to the poor gentlemen and yeomen retainers, but that now it was an absolute flaying of a flea for the hide and tallow. Such thronging to the wicket, and such churlish answers, and such bare beef bones, such a shouldering at the buttery-hatch and cellarage, and nought to be gained beyond small insufficient single ale, or at best with a single straike of malt to counterbalance a double allowance of water -(( By the mass, though, my young friend,» said he, while he saw the food disappearing fast under Roland's active exertions, «< it is not so well to lament for former times as to take the advantage of the present, else we are like to lose on both sides. >>

So saying, Adam Woodcock drew his chair towards the table, unsheathed his knife, for every one carried that minister of festive distribution for himself, and imitated his young companion's example, who for the moment had lost his

anxiety for the future in the eager satisfaction of an appetite sharpened by youth and abstinence.

In truth, they made, though the materials were sufficiently simple, a very respectable meal, at the expence of the royal allowance; and Adam Woodcock, notwithstanding the deliberate censure which he had passed on the household beer of the palace, had taken the fourth deep draught of the black jack ere he remembered him that he had spoken in its dispraise. Flinging himself jollily and luxuriously back in an old danske elbow-chair, and looking with a careless glee towards the page, extending at the same time his right leg, and stretching the other easily over it, he reminded his companion that he had not yet heard the ballad which he had made for the Abbot of Unreason's revel. And accordingly he struck merrily up with

The Pope, that pagan full of pride,

Has blinded us full long »

Roland Græme, who felt no great delight, as may be supposed, in the falconer's satire, considering its subject, began to snatch up his mantle, and fling it around his shoulders, an action which instantly interrupted the ditty of Adam Woodcock.

« Where the vengeance are you going now?" he said, «<thou restless boy?--Thou hast quicksilver in the veins of thee to a certainty, and canst no more abide any douce and sensible

VOL. II.

4

communing, than a hoodless hawk would keep perched on my wrist!»

"

Why, Adam," replied the page, «if you must needs know, I am about to take a walk and look at this fair city.

One may as well be still mewed up in the old castle of the lake, if one is to sit the livelong night between four stone walls, and hearken to old ballads.»

« It is a new ballad-the Lord help thee!» replied Adam, «and that one of the best that ever was matched with a rousing chorus. >>

« Be it so,» said the page, « I will hear it another day, when the rain is dashing against the windows, and there is neither steed stamping, nor spur jingling, nor feather waving in the. neighbourhood, to mar my marking it well. But, even now, I want to be in the world, and to look about me."

« But the never a stride shall you go without me," said the falconer, « until the Regent shall take you whole and sound off my hand; and so, if you will, we may go to the hostelry of Saint Michael's, and there you will see company enough, but through the casement, mark you me; for as to rambling through the street to seek Seytons and Leslies, and having a dozen holes drilled in your new jacket with rapier and poniard, I will yield no way to it.»

<< To the hostelry of Saint Michael's then, with all my heart," said the page; and they left the palace accordingly, rendered to the sentinels at the gate, who had now taken their posts for the

evening, a strict account of their names and 'business, were dismissed through a small wicket of the close-barred portal, and soon reached the inn or hostelry of Saint Michael, which stood in a large court-yard, off the main street, close under the descent of the Calton-hill. The place, wide, waste, and uncomfortable, resembled rather an Eastern caravansery, where men found › shelter indeed, but were obliged to supply themselves with every thing else, than one of our modern inns';

Where not one comfort shall to those be lost,
Who never ask, or never feel, the cost.

1

But still, to the inexperienced eye of Roland Græme, the bustle and confusion of this place of public resort, furnished excitement and amusement. In the large room, into which they had rather found their own way than been' ushered by mine host, travellers and natives of the city entered and departed, met and greeted, gamed or drank together, regardless of each other's presence, forming the strongest contrast to the. stern' and monotonous order and silence with which matters were conducted in the well-ordered household of the Knight of Avenel. Altercation of every kind, from brawling to jesting, was going on amongst the groups around them, and yet the noise and mingled voices seemed to disturb no one, and indeed to be noticed by no others than by those who composed the group to which the speaker belonged.

The falconer passed through the apartment to a projecting latticed window, which formed a sort of recess from the room itself; and having here ensconced himself and his companion, he called for some refreshments; and a tapster, after he had shouted for the twentieth time, accommodated him with the remains of a cold capon and a neat's tongue, together with a pewter stoup of weak French vin-de-pais. Fetch a stoup of brandy-wine, thou knave-We will be jolly to-night, Master Roland,» said he, when he saw himself thus accommodated, « and let care

come to-morrow.”

But Roland had eaten too lately to enjoy the good cheer; and feeling his curiosity much sharper than his appetite, he made it his choice to look out of the lattice, which overhung a large yard, surrounded by the stables of the hostelry, and fed his eyes on the busy sight beneath, while Adam Woodcock, after he had compared his companion to the « Laird of Macfarlane's geese, who liked their play better than their meat, disposed of his time with the aid of cup and trencher, occasionally humming the burthen of his birth-strangled ballad, and beating time to it with his fingers on the little round table. In this exercise he was frequently interrupted by the exclamations of his companion, as he saw something new in the yard beneath, to attract and interest him.

It was a busy scene, for the number of gentlemen and nobles who were now crowded into