And seeing thus, they nothing see
Of worthiness in you or me.
And so, since love doth pass us by,
The plague o' plagues on love, say I!"
"Nath'less," cried the Duke, leaping to his feet. "I will put Love to the
test--aye, this very hour!"
Lobkyn: Wilt go, good Motley? Pray thee where?
Jocelyn: To one beyond all ladies fair.
Lobkyn: Then dost thou need a friend about thee
To cheer and comfort when she flout thee.
So, an thou wilt a-wooing wend,
I'll follow thee like trusty friend.
In love or fight thou shalt not lack
A sturdy arm to 'fend thy back.
I'll follow thee in light or dark,
Through good or ill--Saints shield us!
Hark!
And Lobkyn started about, club poised for swift action, for, out-stealing
from the shadows crept strange and dismal sound, a thin wail that sank to
awful groaning rumble, and so died away.
"O!" whispered Lobkyn:
"Pray, Fool, pray with all thy might,
Here's goblin foul or woodland sprite
Come for to steal our souls away,
So on thy knees quick, Fool, and pray!"
But, as these dismal sounds brake forth again, Jocelyn stole forward,
quarter-staff gripped in ready hand; thus, coming nigh the great oak, he
espied a dim, huddled form thereby and, creeping nearer, stared in wonder
to behold Mopsa, the old witch, striving might and main to wind the great
hunting-horn.
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