"Ha, lord!" quoth Sir Pertinax, as they came within a quiet thoroughfare,
"this lady is grown more fair since last we saw her Queen of Beauty at
Melloc joust, concerning whom Fame, in troth, doth breed a just report for
once. But, messire, didst mark him beside her--with touch o' hand, lord,
whispers i' the ear--didst mark this wolf, this Seneschal, this thrice
accurst Sir Gui?"
"Aye, forsooth," answered the Duke, "but thou'rt an hungered, methinks?"
"To touch her hand, lord--aha! To whisper in her ear, lord--oho! A right
puissant lord, Seneschal of Raddemore, Lord of Thorn and Knight of Ells! A
lord of puissance and power potential."
"And thou, my Pertinax, art but a hungry Knight, that trampeth with a
hungry Fool, wherefore let us forthwith--"
"Aye, but mark me, lord, if this puissant lord with pomp and high estate
doth woo the lady--"
"So then, my Pertinax, will I woo this lady also."
"How, in this thy foolish guise?"
"Aye, forsooth."
"Why, then, thou art like to be whipped for froward Fool and I for ragged
rogue, and this our adventure brought to ill and woeful end--so here now is
folly, lord, indeed!"
"Aye, forsooth!" smiled the Duke,
"Whereto these bells give heed.
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