For with the townsfolk first of all come I--"
REEVE: Since thy fat finger is in every pie--
"Saving your reverend grace," Duke Joc'lyn said,
"What of this maid that turneth green and red?"
REEVE: Fool, then learn this, ere that our lord duke died,
Ten guardians for his child he did provide,
The Friar and I, with men of lesser fame,
Co-guardians are of this right puissant dame.
JOCELYN: Beseech ye, sir, now tell us an' ye may,
Why hath thy youthful Duchess run away?
"Fair Fool," quoth the Friar, fanning himself with a frond of bracken,
"'tis a hot day, a day reminiscent of the ultimate fate of graceless
sinners, and I am like the day and languish for breath, yet, to thy so
pertinent question I will, straightly and in few words, pronounce and
answer thee, as followeth: Our Lady Benedicta hath run away firstly,
brethren, for that being formed woman after Nature's goodly plan she hath
the wherewithal to walk, to leap, to skip or eke to run, as viz.: item and
to wit--legs. Secondly, inquisitorial brethren, she ran for an excellent
good reason--as observe--there was none to let or stay her.
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