"
"Well," proceeded Adam, "Seyton or Satan, I loved that nag over every
other horse in the stable---There was no sleeping on his back--he was
for ever fidgeting, bolting, rearing, biting, kicking, and giving you
work to do, and maybe the measure of your back on the heather to the
boot of it all. And I think I love you better than any lad in the
castle, for the self-same qualities."
"Thanks, thanks, kind Adam. I regard myself bound to you for the
good estimation in which you hold me."
"Nay, interrupt me not," said the falconer--"Satan was a good nag--
But I say I think I shall call the two eyases after you, the one
Roland, and the other Graeme; and while Adam Woodcock lives, be sure
you have a friend--Here is to thee, my dear son."
Roland most heartily returned the grasp of the hand, and Woodcock,
having taken a deep draught, continued his farewell speech.
"There are three things I warn you against, Roland, now that you art
to tread this weary world without my experience to assist you. In the
first place, never draw dagger on slight occasion--every man's doublet
is not so well stuffed as a certain abbot's that you wot of. Secondly,
fly not at every pretty girl, like a merlin at a thrush--you will not
always win a gold chain for your labour--and, by the way, here I
return to you your fanfarona--keep it close, it is weighty, and may
benefit you at a pinch more ways than one. Thirdly, and to conclude,
as our worthy preacher says, beware of the pottle-pot--it has drenched
the judgment of wiser men than you.
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