"
"It shall be as your Grace pleases," replied Blondel, and began
again to prelude.
"Nay, first cherish thy fancy with a cup of fiery Chios wine,"
said the King. "And hark thee, I would have thee fling away that
new-fangled restriction of thine, of terminating in accurate and
similar rhymes. They are a constraint on thy flow of fancy, and
make thee resemble a man dancing in fetters."
"The fetters are easily flung off, at least," said Blondel, again
sweeping his fingers over the strings, as one who would rather
have played than listened to criticism.
"But why put them on, man?" continued the King. "Wherefore thrust
thy genius into iron bracelets? I marvel how you got forward at
all. I am sure I should not have been able to compose a stanza
in yonder hampered measure."
Blondel looked down, and busied himself with the strings of his
harp, to hide an involuntary smile which crept over his features;
but it escaped not Richard's observation.
"By my faith, thou laughest at me, Blondel," he said; "and, in
good truth, every man deserves it who presumes to play the master
when he should be the pupil.
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