he clashing of swords, the ringing of
bucklers, the clattering of helmets, the twanging of bow-strings, the
whizzing of arrows, the screams of women, the shouts of the warriors,
and the vociferations of the peasantry, who had been assembled to the
intended nuptials, and who, seeing a fair set-to, contrived to pick a
quarrel among themselves on the occasion, and proceeded, with staff and
cudgel, to crack each other's skulls for the good of the king and the
earl. One tall friar alone was untouched by the panic of his brethren,
and stood steadfastly watching the combat with his arms a-kembo, the
colossal emblem of an unarmed neutrality.

At length, through the midst of the internal confusion, the earl, by the
help of his good sword, the staunch valour of his men, and the blessing
of the Virgin, fought his way to the chapel-gate--his bowmen closed him
in--he vaulted into his saddle, clapped spurs to his horse, rallied his
men on the first eminence, and exchanged his sword for a bow and arrow,
with which he did old execution among the pursuers, who at last thought
it most expedient to desist from offensive warfare, and to retreat into
the abbey, where, in the king's name, they broached a pipe of the best
wine, and attached all the venison in the larder, having first carefully
unpacked the tuft of friars, and set the fallen abbot on his legs.

The friars, it may be well supposed, and such of the king's men as
escaped unhurt from the affray, found their spirits a cup too low,
and kept the flask moving from noon till night. The peaceful brethren,
unused to the tumult of war, had undergone, from fear and discomposure,
an exhaustion of animal spirits that required extraordinary refection.
During the repast, they interrogated Sir Ralph Montfaucon, the leader of
the soldiers, respecting the nature of the earl's offence.

"A complication of offences," replied Sir Ralph, "superinduced on the
original basis of forest-treason. He began with hunting the king's deer,
in despite of all remonstrance; followed it up by contempt of the king's
mandates, and by armed resistance to his power, in defiance of all
authority; and combined with it the resolute withholding of payment of
certain moneys to the abbot of Doncaster, in denial of all law; and has
thus made himself the declared enemy of church and state, and all for
being too fond of venison." And the knight helped himself to half a
pasty.

"A heinous offender," said a little round oily