"Gude faith, sir Master, I'll haud my een as close as they were sewed up wi' an elshin and a lingel," said Charlie. So said they all, but they were not trusted; the monks were ordered to go round the table and tie every one's eyes closely up; and when this was done, they were desired to lay all their heads down upon their hands on the board, and to sit without moving, whatever they might hear. He then proceeded to open the massy iron clasps, and as soon as they were unloosed, three spirits burst from the book with loud shrieks, and escaped through the barbican. The yells were so piercing that some of our yeomen started from their seats, but dared not lift their heads. "Ah! They are gone," said the Master: "This weird will cost me dear!" "Fear nothing, but proceed," said father Lawrence. He opened the book, and three peals of thunder ensued that shook the castle to its foundations, every one of them louder than the last; and though our yeomen sat trembling in utter darkness, they heard voices around them as if the hall had been crowded full of people; among others, they deemed that they could distinguish the voices of the warden and his lady. They, however, sat still as if chained to their places, awaiting the issue; and, after much noise and apparent interruptions, the great Master read out as follows: "He for whom this weird is read, Be he son of battle bred, Be he baron born to peril, Be he lord, or be he earl, Let him trust his gallant kin, And the sword below the skin. When the red buck quits the cover, When the midnight watch is over, Then, whatever may betide, Trust the horn, and trust the hide, He that drives shall feel the gin, But he that's driven shall get in. All for whom this weird is read, For the living, for the dead, From the chief with corslet shorn, To the babe that is unborn, Let them to the sceptre lean, Till the place where they have been See their sway expand untroubled, Doubled, doubled, nine times doubled; First to rise and rule the rings, Mixed with blood of mighty kings. This is read for princes, peers, And children of a thousand years; Now begins their puissant story; Strike the blow and gain the glory. Rise not against feudal union, No advance but in communion, Though through battle, broil, and murther.-- Shut the book, and read no further." The book was closed, and loud shouts of applause, as from a great multitude, were heard at a distance; as that died away, a peal of thunder burst forth over their heads, which rolled away with an undulating sound, till lost in the regions of the western heavens.