"
But Sir Pertinax, perceiving how the old dame
did thus tweak and wring at the Dwarf's great,
hairy ear even until his eyes watered, interceded,
saying:
"Good, ancient soul, humble not the sturdy, unlovely,
mis-shapen, rascally imp for such small
matter."
"Nay, but," croaked the old woman, tightening
claw-like fingers, "kind master, he would doubtless
have slain thee." At this, Sir Pertinax scowled,
and would have sworn great oath but, meeting the
maid's bright eyes, checked himself, though with
much ado:
"Art so sure," he questioned, "so sure man of
my inches may be slain by thing so small?"
At this the maid laughed, and the old woman,
sighing, loosed the ear she clutched:
"Shew thy strength, Lob," she commanded and,
drawing the maiden out of ear-shot, sat down beside
her on the sward and fell to eager, whispered talk.
Meantime the Dwarf, having cherished his ear,
sulkily though tenderly, seized hold upon his great
club with both hairy hands:
And whirling it aloft, with sudden might
A fair, young tree in sunder he did smite,
That 'neath the blow it swayed and crashing fell.
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