Chapter 17

           Ateve,withinyonstudiousnook,

           Iopemybrass-embossedbook,

           Portray’dwithmanyaholydeed

           Ofmartyrscrown’dwithheavenlymeed;

           Then,asmytaperwaxesdim,

           Chant,ereIsleep,mymeasuredhymn.

           ...

           Whobutwouldcasthispompaway,

           Totakemystaffandamicegrey,

           Andtotheworld’stumultuousstage,

           PreferthepeacefulHermitage?

           Warton

           Notwithstandingtheprescriptionofthegenialhermit,withwhichhisguestwillinglycomplied,hefounditnoeasymattertobringtheharptoharmony.

           "Methinks,holyfather,"saidhe,"theinstrumentwantsonestring,andtheresthavebeensomewhatmisused."

           "Ay,mark’stthouthat?"repliedthehermit;"thatshowstheeamasterofthecraft.Wineandwassail,"headded,gravelycastinguphiseyes"allthefaultofwineandwassail!ItoldAllan-a-Dale,thenorthernminstrel,thathewoulddamagetheharpifhetoucheditaftertheseventhcup,buthewouldnotbecontrolledFriend,Idrinktothysuccessfulperformance."

           Sosaying,hetookoffhiscupwithmuchgravity,atthesametimeshakinghisheadattheintemperanceoftheScottishharper.

           Theknightinthemeantime,hadbroughtthestringsintosomeorder,andafterashortprelude,askedhishostwhetherhewouldchoosea"sirvente"inthelanguageof"oc",ora"lai"inthelanguageof"oui",ora"virelai",oraballadinthevulgarEnglish.

           "Aballad,aballad,"saidthehermit,"againstalltheocsandouisofFrance.

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