"Oho, thou flaunting jackanapes, didst peril
thy foolish flesh for me that am poor and old and feeble, and cursed by
all for witchcraft! So have I with my potions ministered to thee in thy
sickness, and behold thou'rt alive, hale and strong again. Give me thy
hand! Aha, here's cool, unfevered blood! Show me thy tongue. Oho! Aha! A
little sup o' my black decoction--roots gathered at full o' moon--a little
sup and shall be thyself by to-morrow's dawn. But--as for thee, thou
good-for-naught, thou wicked elf--aha! would'st dare leave thy poor old
grannam weak and 'fenceless? Give me thy rogue-ear!" Obediently, the mighty
Dwarf arose and sighfully suffered the old woman to grasp him by the ear
and to tweak and wring and twist it as she would.
"What dost thou here i' the wild-wood, thou imp, thou poppet o' plagues,
thou naughty wap-de-staldees?"
To which Lobkyn, writhing and watering at the eyes, answered thus:
"Stay, prithee grannam, loose thy hold!
I would but be an outlaw bold,
An outlaw fierce that men shall fear--
Beseech thee, grand-dam, loose mine ear!"
"An outlaw, naughty one!" screeched the Witch, tweaking ear the harder.
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