"
At this Sir Pertinax rubbed chin and frowned,
Red grew his cheek, his fierce eyes sought the ground,
Then, even as he thus pinched chin and scowled,
"Loose, then, the dismal knaves!" at last he
growled.
But now grim Ranulph tangled beard tore
And wrung his hands and sighed and groaned and
swore
With loud complaints and woeful lamentations,
With muttered oaths and murmured objurgations,
With curses dire and impious imprecations.
"Beshrew me, masters all!" quoth he. "Now here's ill prank to play a poor
hangman, may I ne'er quaff good liquor more, let me languish o' the
quartern ague and die o' the doleful dumps if I ever saw the like o' this!
For look 'ee now, if I set these three rogues free, how may I hang 'em as
hang 'em I must, since I by hanging live to hang again, and if I don't
hang 'em whom shall I hang since hang I must, I being hangman? Bethink ye
o' this, sirs, and show a little pity to a poor hangman."
"Why then, mark ye this, hangman," said Jocelyn, "since on hanging doth thy
hangman's reputation hang, then hang thou must; therefore, an ye lack rogue
to hang, go hang thyself, so, hanging, shall thy hanging be done with and
thou having lived a hangman, hangman die, thus, hangman hanging hangman,
hangman hanging shall be hangman still, and being still, thus hanging,
shall hang no more.
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