Now stood Sir Pertinax thoughtful, chin on fist, insomuch that Jocelyn,
thrumming his lute, questioned him:
"Good Pertinax, how now
What pond'rest thou
With furrowed brow?
Thy care, Sir Knight, avow!"
Saith Pertinax: "I meditate the way wondrous of woman, the frowardness of
creatures feminine. For mark me, sir, here is one hath guardians ten, yet
despite them she is fled away and they ten!"
"Why truly, Pertinax, they are ten, so is she fled."
"Aye, but if they be ten that ward her and she one that would flee, how
shall this one flee these ten?"
"For that they be ten."
"Nay, lord, here be twenty eyes to watch one young maid and twenty legs to
pursue the same, yet doth she evade them one and all, and here's the wonder
on't--she's but one maid."
"Nay, there's the reason on't, Pertinax--she is a maid."
"The which is great matter for wonder, lord!"
"Spoke like a very Pertinax, my Pertinax, for here's no wonder at all. For
perceive, the lady is young, her wardens ten grave seniors, worthy wights
--solemn, sober and sedate, Pertinax, wise and wearisome, grave yet
garrulous, and therefore they suffice not.
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