KENILWORTH BY SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. ABRIDGED AND EDITED BY MARY HARRIOTT NORRIS DEAN OF WOMEN, NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY NEW YORK .: CINCINNATI CHICAGO KENILWORTH CHAPTER I. THE village of Cumnor, within three or four miles of Oxford, boasted, during the eighteenth of Queen Elizabeth, an excellent inn of the old stamp, conducted, or rather ruled, by Giles Gosling, a man of a goodly person, fifty years of age and upwards, moderate in his reckonings, prompt in his payments, having a cellar of sound liquor, a ready wit, and a pretty daughter. It was in the courtyard of the inn which called this honest fellow landlord that a traveler alighted in the close of the evening and gave his horse, which seemed to have made a long journey, to the hostler. The landlord, with much semblance of hearty welcome, ushered his guest into a large low chamber, where several persons were seated together in different parties some drinking, some playing at cards, some conversing, and some, whose business called them to be early risers on the morrow, concluding their evening meal, and conferring with the chamberlain about their night's quarters. The stranger's address was bold, without being frank, and seemed eagerly and hastily to claim for him a degree of attention and deference, which he feared would be refused, if not instantly vindicated as his right. His attire was a ridingcloak, which, when open, displayed a handsome jerkin overlaid with lace and belted with a buff girdle, which sustained a broadsword and a pair of pistols. "You ride well provided, sir," said the host, looking at the weapons as he placed on the table the mulled sack which the [3] traveler had ordered. Are you from the Low Countries, the land of pike and caliver ? " "I have been high and low, my friend, broad and wide, far and near. But here is to thee in a cup of thy sack; fill thyself another to pledge me; and, if it is less than superlative, e'en drink as you have brewed." "Less than superlative!" said Giles Gosling, drinking off the cup, and smacking his lips with an air of ineffable relish -“I know nothing of superlative, nor is there such a wine at the Three Cranes, in the Vintry, to my knowledge; but if you find better sack than that in the Sheres, or in the Canaries either, I would I may never touch either pot or penny more." "It is neat and comfortable, mine host; but to know good liquor you should drink where the vine grows. Trust me, your Spaniard is too wise a man to send soul of the grape. You should travel, mine host, if you would be deep in the mysteries of the butt and pottle-pot." 66 you the very In troth, Signior Guest," said Giles Gosling, "if I were to travel only that I might be discontented with that which I can get at home, methinks I should go but on a fool's errand. Besides, I warrant you, there is many a fool can turn his nose up at good drink without ever having been cut of the smoke of old England; as for me, I am thankful for mine own fireside." "This is but a mean mind of yours, mine host," said the stranger; I warrant me, all your townsfolk do not think so basely. You have gallants among you, I dare undertake, that have made the Virginia voyage, or taken a turn in the Low Countries at least. Come, cudgel your memory. Have you no friends in foreign parts that you would gladly have tidings of ? "' I have one wild slip of a kinsman, who left us in the last year of Queen Mary; but he is better lost than found.' 66 "Do not say so, friend, unless you have heard ill of him lately. Many a wild colt has turned out a noble steed. His name, I pray you? "Michael Lambourne," answered the landlord of the Black Bear, " a son of my sister's." "Michael Lambourne!" said the stranger, "what, no relation to Michael Lambourne, the gallant cavalier who behaved so bravely at the siege of Venlo that Grave Maurice thanked him at the head of the army?" "It could scarcely be my nephew," said Giles Gosling, "for he had not the courage of a hen-partridge for aught but mischief.” "The Michael Lambourne whom I knew," continued the traveler, "was a likely fellow: went always gay and well-attired." "Our Michael," replied the host, "had the look of a dog with a bottle at its tail, and wore a coat every rag of which was bidding good-day to the rest." "Tush, man,” replied the traveler, "never fear but you will have credit by your nephew yet, especially if he be the Michael Lambourne whom I knew and loved very nearly, or altogether, as well as myself. Can you tell me no mark by which I could judge whether they be the same ?" "Faith, none that I can think of," answered Giles Gosling, "unless that our Mike had the gallows branded on his left shoulder for stealing a silver caudle-cup from Dame Snort of Hogsditch." Nay, there you lie like a knave, uncle," said the stranger, slipping aside his ruff, and turning down the sleeve of his doublet from his neck and shoulder; " by this good day, my shoulder is as unscarred as thine own." What, Mike, boy - Mike!" exclaimed the host; and is it thou in good earnest? Nay, I have judged so for this halfhour, for I knew no other person would have ta'en half the interest in thee." "Tush, uncle, truce with your jests. Let us see what hearty welcome thou wilt give a kinsman who has seen the sun set where it rises, and has traveled till the west has become the east. But, uncle, I come not from the husks and the swine-trough, and |