And
I charge you, my masters, as your lawfully chosen Abbot, that you
touch no one without my command--You, wolf and bear, will guard this
pragmatic youth, but without hurting him--And you, reverend brother,
will, with your comrades, withdraw to your cells; for our conference
has ended like all conferences, leaving each of his own mind, as
before; and if we fight, both you, and your brethren, and the Kirk,
will have the worst on't--Wherefore, pack up you pipes and begone."
The hubbub was beginning again to awaken, but still Father Ambrose
hesitated, as uncertain to what path his duty called him, whether to
face out the present storm, or to reserve himself for a better moment.
His brother of Unreason observed his difficulty, and said, in a tone
more natural and less affected than that with which he had hitherto
sustained his character, "We came hither, my good sir, more in mirth
than in mischief--our bark is worse than our bite--and, especially, we
mean you no personal harm--wherefore, draw off while the play is good;
for it is ill whistling for a hawk when she is once on the soar, and
worse to snatch the quarry from the ban-dog--Let these fellows once
begin their brawl, and it will be too much for madness itself, let
alone the Abbot of Unreason, to bring them back to the lure."
The brethren crowded around Father Ambrosius, and joined in urging
him to give place to the torrent. The present revel was, they said, an
ancient custom which his predecessors had permitted, and old Father
Nicholas himself had played the dragon in the days of the Abbot
Ingelram.
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