This evil place they straightway entered in,
Where riot reigned, the wild, unlovely din
Of archers, men-at-arms, and rogues yet worse,
Who drank and sang, whiles some did fight and curse.
An evil place indeed, a lawless crew,
And landlord, like his inn, looked evil too:
Small was his nose, small were his pig-like eyes,
But ears had he of most prodigious size,
A brawny rogue, thick-jowled and beetle-browed,
Who, spying out our strangers 'mid the crowd,
Beholding them in humble, mean array,
With gestures fierce did order them away.
"Nay," quoth Sir Pertinax, "here will we bide,
Here will we eat and drink and sleep beside.
Go, bring us beef, dost hear? And therewith mead,
And, when we've ate, good beds and clean we 'll need."
"Ho!" cried the host. "Naught unto ye I'll bring
Until yon Fool shall caper first and sing!"
Said Jocelyn: "I'll sing when I have fed!"
"And then," quoth Pertinax, "we will to bed!"
"And wilt thou so?" the surly host replied;
"No beds for likes o' ye do I provide.
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