But we kings get bad habits of
self-opinion. Come, on with thy lay, dearest Blondel--on after
thine own fashion, better than aught that we can suggest, though
we must needs be talking."
Blondel resumed the lay; but as extemporaneous composition was
familiar to him, he failed not to comply with the King's hints,
and was perhaps not displeased to show with how much ease he
could new-model a poem, even while in the act of recitation.
THE BLOODY VEST.
FYTTE SECOND.
The Baptist's fair morrow beheld gallant feats--
There was winning of honour and losing of seats;
There was hewing with falchions and splintering of staves--
The victors won glory, the vanquish'd won graves.
Oh, many a knight there fought bravely and well,
Yet one was accounted his peers to excel,
And 'twas he whose sole armour on body and breast
Seem'd the weed of a damsel when bouned for her rest.
There were some dealt him wounds that were bloody and sore,
But others respected his plight, and forbore.
"It is some oath of honour," they said, "and I trow,
'Twere unknightly to slay him achieving his vow.
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