a courtier
will swear to King Henry to bring him in dead or alive."

"They must look to the brambles then," said brother Michael.

"The bramble, the bramble, the bonny forest bramble,
Doth make a jest
Of silken vest,
That will through greenwood scramble:
The bramble, the bramble, the bonny forest bramble."

"Plague on your lungs, son Michael," said the abbot; "this is your old
coil: always roaring in your cups."

"I know what I say," said brother Michael; "there is often more sense in
an old song than in a new homily.

The courtly pad doth amble,
When his gay lord would ramble:
But both may catch
An awkward scratch,
If they ride among the bramble:
The bramble, the bramble, the bonny forest bramble."

"Tall friar," said Sir Ralph, "either you shoot the shafts of your
merriment at random, or you know more of the earl's designs than beseems
your frock."

"Let my frock," said brother Michael, "answer for its own sins. It is
worn past covering mine. It is too weak for a shield, too transparent
for a screen, too thin for a shelter, too light for gravity, and too
threadbare for a jest. The wearer would be naught indeed who should
misbeseem such a wedding garment.

But wherefore does the sheep wear wool?
That he in season sheared may be,
And the shepherd be warm though his flock be cool:
So I'll have a new cloak about me."

CHAPTER II

Vray moyne si oncques en feut depuis que le monde moynant
moyna de moynerie.--RABELAIS.

The Earl of Huntingdon, living in the vicinity of a royal forest, and
passionately attached to the chase from his infancy, had long made as
free with the king's deer as Lord Percy proposed to do with those of
Lord Douglas in the memorable hunting of Cheviot. It is sufficiently
well known how severe were the forest-laws in those days, and with
what jealousy the kings of England maintained this branch of their
prerogative; but menaces and remonstrances were thrown away on the earl,
who declared that he would not thank Saint Peter for admission into
Paradise, if he were obliged to leave his bow and hounds at the gate.
King Henry (the Second) swore by Saint Botolph to make him rue his
sport, and, having caused him to be duly and formally accused, summoned
him to London to answer the charge. The earl, deeming himself safer
among his own vassals than among kin