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Farnol, Jeffery, 1878-1952

"The Geste of Duke Jocelyn"

"Fetters, see'st thou, a dungeon, and these foul
knaves for company--the which cometh of thy fool's folly, messire! So
prithee ha' done with it!"
"Stay, gentle gossip, thou'rt foolish, methinks; thou frettest 'gainst
fate, thou kickest unwisely 'gainst the pricks, thou ragest pitifully
'gainst circumstance--in fine, thou'rt a very Pertinax, my Pertinax!"
"Aye troth, that am I and no dog to lie thus chained in noisome pit, par
Dex! So let us out, messire, and that incontinent!"
"Why here is a bright thought, sweet lad, let us out forthwith--but how?"
"Summon the town-reeve, messire, the burgesses, the council, declare thy
rank, so shall we go free--none shall dare hold thus a prince of thy
exalted state and potent might! Declare thyself, lord."
"This were simple matter, Pertinax, but shall they believe us other than we
seem, think ye?"
Quoth Pertinax: "We can try!"
"Verily," said Jocelyn, "this very moment!" So saying, he turned to the
three who sat in a corner muttering together.
"Good brothers, gentle rogues," said he, "behold and regard well this
sturdy cut-throat fellow that sitteth beside me, big of body, unseemly of
habit, fierce and unlovely of look--one to yield the wall unto, see ye! And
yet--now heed me well, this fellow, ragged and unkempt, this ill-looking
haunter of bye-ways, this furtive snatcher of purses (hold thy peace,
Pertinax!).


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