W. Ainsworth - Rookwood
The scene was a joyous one. It was a brilliant sunshiny morning. Freshened and purified by the storm of the preceding night, the air breathed a balm upon the nerves and senses of the robber. The wooded hills were glittering in light; the brook was flowing swiftly past the edge of the verdant slope, glancing like a wreathed snake in the sunshine—its "quiet song" lost in the rude harmony of the mummers, as were the thousand
twitterings of the rejoicing birds; the rocks bared their bosoms to the sun, or were buried in deep-cast gloom; the shadows of the pillars and arches of the old walls of the priory were projected afar, while the rose-like ramifications of the magnificent marigold window were traced, as if by a pencil, upon the verdant tablet of the sod.
The overture was finished. With the appearance of the principal figures in this strange picture, the reader is already familiar. It remains only to give him some idea of the patrico. Imagine, then, an old superannuated goat, reared upon its hind-legs, and clad in a white sheet, disposed in folds like those of a simar about its limbs, and you will have some idea of Balthazar, the patrico. This resemblance to the animal before mentioned, was rendered the more striking by his huge hanging goat-like under-lip, his lengthy white beard, and a sort of cap, covering his head, which was ornamented with a pair of horns, such as are to be seen in Michael Angelo's tremendous statue of Moses. Balthazar, besides being the patrico of the tribe, was its principal professor of divination, and had been the long-tried and faithful minister of Barbara Lovel, from whose secret instructions he was supposed to have derived much of his magical skill.
Placing a pair of spectacles upon his "prognosticating nose," and unrolling a vellum skin, upon which strange characters were written, Balthazar, turning to Turpin, thus commenced, in a solemn voice:
"Thou who wouldst our brother be,
Say how we shall enter thee?
Name the name that thou wilt bear
Ere our livery thou wear."
"I see no reason why I should alter my designation," replied the noviciate; "but as popes change their titles on their creation, there can be no objection to a scampsman following so excellent an example. Let me be known as the Night Hawk."
"The Night Hawk—good," returned the hierophant, proceeding to register the name upon the parchment. "Kneel down," continued he.
After some hesitation, Turpin complied.
"You must repeat the 'salamon,' or oath of our creed, after my dictation," said the patrico; and Turpin, signifying his assent by a nod, Balthazar propounded the following abjuration:
OATH OF THE CANTING CREW
I, Crank-Cuffin, swear to be
True to this fraternity;
That I will in all obey
Rule and order of the lay.
Never blow the gab, or squeak;
Never snitch to bum or beak;
But religiously maintain
Authority of those who reign
Over Stop-Hole Abbey Green,
Be they tawny king, or queen.
In their cause alone will fight;
Think what they think, wrong or right;
Serve them truly, and no other,
And be faithful to my brother;
Suffer none, from far or near,
With their rights to interfere;
No strange Abram, ruffler crack,
Hooker of another pack,
Rogue or rascal, frater, maunderer,
Irish toyle, or other wanderer;
No dimber damber, angler, dancer,
Prig or cackler, prig of prancer;
No swigman, swaddler, clapperdudgeon
Cadge-gloak, curtal, or curmudgeon;
No whip-jack, palliard, patrico;
No jarkman, be he high or low;
No dummerar, or romany;
No member of "the Family";
No ballad-basket, bouncing buffer,
Nor any other, will I suffer;
But stall-off now and for ever,
All outliers whatsoever:
And as I keep to the fore-gone,
So may help me Salamon!12
"So help me Salamon!" repeated Turpin, with emphasis.
"Zoroaster," said the patrico to the upright man, "do thy part of this ceremonial."
Zoroaster obeyed; and, taking Excalibur from the knight of Malta, bestowed a hearty thwack with the blade upon the shoulders of the kneeling highwayman, assisting him afterwards to arise.
The inauguration was complete.
"Well," exclaimed Dick, "I'm glad it's all over. My leg feels a little stiffish. I'm not much given to kneeling. I must dance it off"; saying which, he began to shuffle upon the boards. "I tell you what," continued he, "most reverend patrico, that same 'salmon' of yours has a cursed long tail. I could scarce swallow it all, and it's strange if it don't give me an indigestion. As to you, sage Zory, from the dexterity with which you flourish your sword, I should say you had practised at Court. His Majesty could scarce do the thing better, when, slapping some fat alderman upon the shoulders, he bids him arise Sir Richard. And now, pals," added he, glancing round, "as I am one of you, let's have a boose together ere I depart, for I don't think my stay will be long in the land of Egypt."
This suggestion of Turpin was so entirely consonant to the wishes of the assemblage, that it met with universal approbation; and upon a sign from Zoroaster, some of his followers departed in search of supplies for the carousal. Zoroaster leaped from the table, and his example was followed by Turpin, and more leisurely by the patrico.
It was rather early in the day for a drinking bout. But the canting crew were not remarkably particular. The chairs were removed, and the jingling of glasses announced the arrival of the preliminaries of the matutine symposion. Poles, canvas, and cords, were next brought; and in almost as short space of time as one scene is substituted for another in a theatrical representation, a tent was erected. Benches, stools, and chairs, appeared with equal celerity, and the interior soon presented
an appearance like that of a booth at a fair. A keg of brandy was broached, and the health of the new brother quaffed in brimmers.
Our highwayman returned thanks. Zoroaster was in the chair, the knight of Malta acting as croupier. A second toast was proposed—the tawny queen. This was drunk with a like enthusiasm, and with a like allowance of the potent spirit; but as bumpers of brandy are not to be repeated with impunity, it became evident to the president of the board that he must not repeat his toasts quite so expeditiously. To create a temporary diversion, therefore, he called for a song.
The dulcet notes of the fiddle now broke through the clamour; and, in answer to the call, Jerry Juniper volunteered the following:
JERRY JUNIPER'S CHANT
In a box13 of the stone jug14 I was born,
Of a hempen widow15 the kid forlorn,
Fake away.
And my father, as I've heard say,
Fake away,
Was a merchant of capers16 gay,
Who cut his last fling with great applause,
17 Nix my doll pals, fake away.
Who cut his last fling with great applause,18
To the tune of a "hearty choke with caper sauce."
Fake away.
The knucks in quod19 did my schoolmen play,
Fake away,
And put me up to the time of day;
Until at last there was none so knowing,
Nix my doll pals, fake away.
Until at last there was none so knowing,
No such sneaksman20 or buzgloak21 going.
Fake away.
Fogles22 and fawnies23 soon went their way,
Fake away,
To the spout24 with the sneezers25 in grand array.
No dummy hunter26 had forks27 so fly;
Nix my doll pals, fake away.
No dummy hunter had forks so fly,
No knuckler28 so deftly could fake a cly,29
Fake away.
No slour'd hoxter30 my snipes31 could stay,
Fake away.
None knap a reader32 like me in the lay.
Soon then I mounted in swell-street high.
Nix my doll pals, fake away.
Soon then I mounted in swell-street high,
And sported my flashiest toggery,33
Fake away.
Firmly resolved I would make my hay,
Fake away,
While Mercury's star shed a single ray;
And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig,34
Nix my doll pals, fake away.
And ne'er was there seen such a dashing prig,
With my strummel faked in the newest twig.35
Fake away.
With my fawnies famms,36 and my onions gay,37
Fake away;
My thimble of ridge,38 and my driz kemesa;39
All my togs were so niblike40 and splash,
Nix my doll pals, fake away.
All my togs were so niblike and splash,
Readily the queer screens I then could smash;41
Fake away.
But my nuttiest blowen,42 one fine day,
Fake away,
To the beaks43 did her fancy man betray,
And thus was I bowled out at last.44
Nix my doll pals, fake away.
And thus was I bowled out at last,
And into the jug for a lag was cast;45
Fake away.
But I slipped my darbies46 one morn in May,
Fake away,
And gave to the dubsman47 a holiday.
And here I am, pals, merry and free,
A regular rollocking romany.48
Nix my doll pals, fake away.
Much laughter and applause rewarded Jerry's attempt to please; and though the meaning of his chant, even with the aid of the numerous notes appended to it, may not be quite obvious to our readers, we can assure them that it was perfectly intelligible to the canting crew. Jerry was now entitled to a call; and happening, at the moment, to meet the fine dark eyes of a sentimental gipsy, one of that better class of mendicants who wandered about the country with a guitar at his back, his election fell upon him. The youth, without prelude, struck up a
GIPSY SERENADE49
Merry maid, merry maid, wilt thou wander with me?
We will roam through the forest, the meadow, and lea;
We will haunt the sunny bowers, and when day begins to flee,
Our couch shall be the ferny brake, our canopy the tree.
Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me!
No life like the gipsy's, so joyous and free!
Merry maid, merry maid, though a roving life be ours,
We will laugh away the laughing and quickly fleeting hours;
Our hearts are free, as is the free and open sky above,
And we know what tamer souls know not, how lovers ought to love.
Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me!
No life like the gipsy's, so joyous and free!
Zoroaster now removed the pipe from his upright lips to intimate his intention of proposing a toast.
An universal knocking of knuckles by the knucklers50 was followed by profound silence. The sage spoke:
"The city of Canterbury, pals," said he; "and may it never want a knight of Malta."
The toast was pledged with much laughter, and in many bumpers.
The knight, upon whom all eyes were turned, rose, "with stately bearing and majestic motion," to return thanks.
"I return you an infinitude of thanks, brother pals," said he, glancing round the assemblage; and bowing to the president, "and to you, most upright Zory, for the honour you have done me in associating my name with that city. Believe me, I sincerely appreciate the compliment, and echo the sentiment from the bottom of my soul, I trust it never will want a knight of Malta. In return for your consideration, but a poor one you will say, you shall have a ditty, which I composed upon the occasion of my pilgrimage to that city, and which I have thought proper to name after myself."
THE KNIGHT OF MALTA
A Canterbury Tale
Come list to me, and you shall have, without a hem or haw, sirs,
A Canterbury pilgrimage, much better than old Chaucer's.
'Tis of a hoax I once played off, upon that city clever,
The memory of which, I hope, will stick to it for ever.
With my coal-black beard, and purple cloak,
jack-boots, and broad-brimmed castor,
Hey-ho! for the knight of Malta!
To execute my purpose, in the first place, you must know, sirs,
My locks I let hang down my neck—my beard and whiskers grow, sirs;
A purple cloak I next clapped on, a sword tagged to my side, sirs,
And mounted on a charger black, I to the town did ride, sirs,
With my coal-black beard, etc.
Two pages were there by my side, upon two little ponies,
