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Scott, Walter, Sir, 1771-1832

"The Abbot"


"When you approached your lips so near to the sign you had traced on
my forehead."
"Mother of Heaven!" exclaimed she, in a yet fiercer tone, and with a
more masculine manner than she had yet exhibited,-"Catherine Seyton
approach her lips to a man's brow, and thou that man!--vassal, thou
liest!"
The page stood astonished; but, conceiving he had alarmed the damsel's
delicacy by alluding to the enthusiasm of a moment, and the manner in
which she had expressed it, he endeavoured to falter forth an apology.
His excuses, though he was unable to give them any regular shape, were
accepted by his companion, who had indeed suppressed her indignation
after its first explosion--"Speak no more on't," she said. "And now
let us part; our conversation may attract more notice than is
convenient for either of us."
"Nay, but allow me at least to follow you to some sequestered place."
"You dare not," replied the maiden.
"How," said the youth, "dare not? where is it you dare go, where I
dare not follow?"
"You fear a Will o' the Wisp," said the damsel; "how would you face a
fiery dragon, with an enchantress mounted on its back?"
"Like Sir Eger, Sir Grime, or Sir Greysteil," said the page; "but be
there such toys to be seen here?"
"I go to Mother Nicneven's," answered the maid; "and she is witch
enough to rein the horned devil, with a red silk thread for a bridle,
and a rowan-tree switch for a whip."
"I will follow you," said the page.
"Let it be at some distance," said the maiden.


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