"But for myself--I fear--behold this
motley! This scarred face!"
"Why as to thy motley it becometh thee well--"
"Aye, but my face? O, 't is a hideous face!"
"O Fool!" sighed Benedicta, "know'st thou not that True-love's eyes possess
a magic whereby all loved things become fair and beauteous. So take
courage, noble Motley, and may thy desires be crowned--even as our own."
"Gramercy, thou sweet and gentle lady. Happiness companion thee alway and
Love sing ever within thee. Now for ye twain is love's springtime, a season
of sweet promise, may each promise find fulfilment and so farewell."
"Why then, Sir Fool, an thou wilt tarry here in the good greenwood a
while, may Love guide thee. Now here is my counsel: Follow where thy heart
commandeth and--fear not! And now, Sir Robert a' Forest, form thy company,
and since this is a day of gladness let them sing as they march."
"In sooth, dear my lady, that will we!" cried Robin. "There is song o'
spring and gladness I made that hath oft been our solace, and moreover it
beginneth and endeth with jolly chorus well beknown to all.
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