So 'stead of pen give me a sword,
And set me where the battle's toward,
Where blood--"
But the ancient dame who had risen and approached silently, now very
suddenly took Lobkyn by the ear again.
"Talk not of blood and battles, naughty one!" she cried. "Think not to
leave thy old grannam lone and lorn and helpless--nor this our fair maid.
Shame on thee, Lob, O shame!" saying the which she cuffed him again and
soundly.
"Master," he sighed, "thou seest I may not go,
Since that my grand-dam will not have it so."
"Good mother, wise mother," said the maid, viewing Sir Pertinax smilingly
askance, "why doth poor soldier go bedight in fine linen 'neath rusty
hauberk? Why doth poor soldier wear knightly chain about his neck and swear
by knightly oath? Good mother, wise mother, rede me this."
The old woman viewed Pertinax with her bright, quick eyes, but, ere she
could answer, he sheathed sword, drew ragged mantle about him, and made to
go, but, turning to the maid, bent steel-clad head.
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