The Geste of Duke Jocelyn

by Jeffery Farnol

  FYTTE 9

  That tells almost as fully as it should, The joys of living in the good greenwood.

  * * * * *

  Deep-hidden in the trackless wild the outlaws had made them a haven ofrefuge, a camp remote and well sequestered. Here were mossy, fern-cladrocks that soared aloft, and here green lawns where ran a blithesome brook;it was indeed a very pleasant place shut in by mighty trees. Within thisleafy boskage stood huts of wattle, cunningly wrought; beneath the steepwere many caves carpeted with dried fern and fragrant mosses, whileeverywhere, above and around, the trees spread mighty boughs, through whichthe sun darted golden beams be-dappling the sward, and in whose leafymysteries the birds made joyous carolling.

  And here beneath bending willows arched over this merry brook, onesun-bright morning riotous with song of birds, sat Jocelyn with Robina-sprawl beside him.

  "O brother," says Robin, "O brother, 't is a fair place the greenwood, afair, sweet place to live--aye, or to die in methinks, this good greenwood,whereof I have made a song--hark 'ee!"

  "Oho, it is a right good thing When trees do bud and flowers do spring All in the wood, the fair, green wood, To hear the birds so blithely sing, Adown, adown, hey derry down, All in the good, green wood.

  "Who cometh here leaves grief behind, Here broken man hath welcome kind, All in the wood, the fair, green wood. The hopeless here new hope may find, Adown, adown, hey derry down, All in the kind, green wood.

  "Ho, friend, 'tis pleasant life we lead, No laws have we, no laws we need Here i' the good, green wood. For every man's a man indeed, Adown, adown, hey derry down, Here i' the good, green wood.

  "All travellers that come this way Must something in fair tribute pay Unto the wood, the fair, green wood. Or here in bonds is like to stay, Adown, adown, hey derry down, Lost in the good, green wood.

  "Full many a lord, in boastful pride, This tribute, scornful, hath denied Unto the wood, the fair, green wood. And thereupon hath sudden died, Adown, adown, hey derry down, All in the fair, green wood.

  "And when our time shall come to die Methinks we here may softly lie Deep in the fair, green wood. With birds to sing us lullaby, Adown, adown, hey derry down, All in the good, green wood."

  "So there it is, brother--and life and death in a nutshell, as 'twere. Now,wherefore wilt not join us and turn outlaw, good Fool?"

  "For that I am a fool belike, Robin. Howbeit, I'm better Fool than outlaw."

  "Say, rather, greater fool, Fool, for foresters' life is better than lifeo' folly, and payeth better to boot, what with booty--ha! Moreover, I dolove thee, since, Fool, though fool, art wise in counsel and valiant beyondthought--so 'tis I would not lose thee. Stay, therefore, and live mycomrade and brother, equal with me in all things. How say'st thou?"

  "Why, Robin, I say this: True friendship is a goodly thing and a rare inthis world, and, therefore, to be treasured; 'tis thing no man may buy orseek, since itself is seeker and cometh of itself; 'tis a prop--a staffin stony ways, a shield 'gainst foes, a light i' the dark. So do I lovefriendship, Robin, and thou'rt my friend, yet must leave thee, thoughfriendship shall abide."

  Quoth ROBIN: How abide an we be parted?

  "In heart and mind and memory, Robin. Moreover, though I go, yet will Ireturn anon, an life be mine."

  "And wherefore go ye, brother?"

  "First to seek my comrade."

  "Thy comrade--ha! I mind him, a fierce great fellow with hawk's beak and afighting eye. And whither trend ye?"

  "To Canalise."

  "Art crazed, brother? 'Tis there death waiteth thee!"

  "Yet must I go, Robin, since there my heart waiteth me."

  "A maid, brother?"

  "A maid, Robin."

  "Heigho! So wilt thou go, come joy, come pain, come life or death, since amaid is made to make man saint or devil, some days glad and some days sad,but ever and always a fool. And thou art Fool by profession, and, beinglover professed and confessed, art doubly a fool; and since, good Folly,love's but folly and thou, a Fool, art deep in folly, so is thy state mostmelancholy."

  "And dost think love so great folly, Robin?" said a soft voice, and,looking round, they beheld the lovely, dark-tressed Melissa, who viewedthem bright-eyed and pouted red mouth, frowning a little.

  "Aye, verily, lady," laughed Robin, as she sank on the grass beside them."Forsooth, 'tis a madness fond. For see, now, a man being in love is out ofall else."

  "As how, Sir Outlaw?"

  "Marry, on this wise--when man's in love he mopeth apart and is illcompany, so is he out o' friends; he hangeth humble head abashed, so is heout o' countenance; he uttereth frequent, windy, sighful suspirations,so is he out o' breath; he lavisheth lucre on his love, so is he out o'pocket; he forsweareth food, despiseth drink, scorneth sleep, so is heout o' health--in fine, he is out of all things, so is he out of himself;therefore he is mad, and so may go hang himself!"

  MELISSA: And hast thou loved, Robin?

  ROBIN: Ever and always, and none but Robin!

  MELISSA: And none more worthy, Robin?

  ROBIN: And none more, as I am worthy Robin.

  MELISSA: Lovest thou not Love, Robin?

  ROBIN: Love, love not I.

  MELISSA: Then Love canst thou know not.

  ROBIN: Then if I love Love for Love's sake, must Love then love me,therefore?

  MELISSA: If thy love for Love be true love, so shall Love love thee true.

  ROBIN: Then if Love should love me for my sake, then would I love Love forLove's sake; but since Love ne'er hath sought me for my sake, ne'er will Iseek Love for Love's sake for my sake, since Love, though plaguy sweet, isa sweet plague, I judge and, so judging, will by my judgment stand.

  MELISBA: And how think you, Sir Fool?

  JOCELYN: I think if Love find Robin and Robin, so found of Love, shalllearn to love Love for Love's sake, Love shall teach Robin how, hi lovingLove--Love, if a plague, doth but plague him lovingly to his betterjudgment of Love, till, being on this wise, wise--he shall judge of Lovelovingly, loving Love at last for Love's own lovely sake, rather than forhis own selfish self. For as there is the passion of love, the which is alove selfish, so there is the true Spirit of Love, the which forgettethself in Love's self, thus, self-forgotten, Love is crowned by Love's trueself.

  MELISSA: How think ye of this, Robin?

  ROBIN: By Cupid, we are so deep in love that we are like to drown of loveand we be not wary. Here hath my lovely jowlopped-crested brother so besetpoor Robin with Love and self and Robin, that Robin kens not which is Love,Love's self or himself.

  MELISSA: And yet I do think 'tis very plain! Yet an thou canst express thisplainer, prithee do, Sir Fool.

  "Blithely, sweet lady, here will I frame my meaning in a rhyme, thus:

  "Who loveth Love himself above, With Love base self transcending Love, Love shall teach how Love may reach The Love that hath no ending.

  "'Tis thus Love-true, Love shall renew, Love's love thus waning never, So love each morn of Love new-born, Love shall live loving ever."

  ROBIN: Aye, verily, there's Love and yet such a love as no man may findmethinks, brother.

  JOCELYN: Never, Robin, until it find him. For true love, like friendship,cometh unsought, like all other good things.

  ROBIN: 'Las! then needs must I be no good thing since I am sought e'en nowof old Mopsa the Witch yonder!

  And he pointed where the old creature hobbled towards them bent on hercrooked staff. Up rose Robin and, hasting to meet her, louted full low,since she was held in great respect of all men by reason of her potentspells. Chuckling evilly, she drew down Robin's tall head to whisper in hisear, whereupon he laughed, clapped hand to brawny thigh, and taking oldMopsa's feeble arm, hastened away with her. But Melissa, reclining 'neaththe willow-shade, gazed down into the murmurous waters of the brook witheyes of dream whiles Jocelyn struck soft, sweet chords upon his lute. Andpresently she turned to view him thoughtfully--his strange, marred face;his eyes so q
uick and keen 'neath battered cock's-comb; his high, proudbearing despite his frayed and motley habit; and ever her wonder grewuntil, at last, she must needs question him:

  "Fools, Sir Fool, have I seen a-many, both in the motley and out, but thouart rare among all fools, I do think."

  JOCELYN: Gramercy, lady! Truly fool am I of all fools singular.

  MELISSA: Thou'rt he I heard, upon a day, sing strange, sweet songs, withinthe marketplace of Canalise!

  JOCELYN: The same, lady.

  MELISSA: That soused my lord Gui head over ears in a lily-pool?

  JOCELYN: Verily, lady.

  MELISSA: O! Would one might do as much for Sir Agramore of Biename!

  JOCELYN: One doubtless will, lady.

  MELISSA: Thyself?

  JOCELYN: Nay--one that loveth the disputatious bickering of sharp steelbetter than I--one had rather fight than eat, and rather fight three menthan one--

  "Three men?" cried Melissa, starting.

  "Aye, lady--and six men than three!"

  "There was such an one, Fool, in truth a very brave man, did fight three ofmy Lord Agramore's foresters on my behalf. Dost know of such an one, Fool?"

  "Methinks he is my comrade, Lady."

  "Thy comrade--in truth? Then, pray you, speak me what seeming hath he."

  "Ill, lady."

  "How so, Fool?"

  "A great, fierce rogue is he, unlovely of look, bleak of eye, harsh oftongue, hooked of nose, flinty of soul, stony of heart, of aspect grim andmanners rude!"

  "Then, verily, thy comrade have I never seen!" quoth Melissa, flushing andwith head up-flung. "He that saved me is nothing the like of this."

  "And yet," said Jocelyn slyly, "'tis thus he hath been named ere now!"

  "Nay, Fool, indeed he that saved me was tall and seemly man, very fierceand strong in fight, but to me wondrous gentle--in truth, somethingtimorous, and, 'spite rusty mail, spake and looked like a noble knight."

  "Then forsooth, lady, thy champion is no comrade of mine, for he is but apoor rogue, ill-beseen, ill-kempt, ill-spoken, ill-mannered and altogetherill, save only that he is my friend--"

  "And thou speakest ill of thy ill friend, the which is ill in thee--illFool!" and the fair Melissa rose.

  "And pray, lady, didst learn thy preserver's name?"

  "Indeed, for I asked him."

  "And it was--?"

  "Pertinax!" she sighed.

  "Pertinax!" said Jocelyn, both in the same moment; the dark-browed Melissasat down again.

  "So thy comrade and--he are one, Fool?"

  "Indeed, lady. Yet here we have him, on the one hand, a man noble andseemly, and, on the other, a poor rogue, hook-nosed, ill-beseen, ill--"

  "'Tis thou hast miscalled him, Fool!" said she, frowning.

  "Not I, lady."

  "Who, then?"

  "A maid--"

  "Ah!" said Melissa, frowning blacker than ever. "A maid, Fool? What maid?"

  "A wandering gipsy o' the wood, lady--a dark-eyed damsel with long, blackcurling hair and 'voice of sweet allure'--'tis so he named her--"

  "This was belike some wicked witch!" said Melissa, clenching white fist.

  "Aye, belike it was, lady, for she bestowed on him a strange jewel, a heartin heart of crystal, that wrought for us in Canalise marvels great as ourwondrous Witch herself."

  Now here the lovely Melissa's frown vanished, and her red lips curved tosudden smile.

  "Belike this was no witch after all!" said she gently.

  "Howbeit, lady," quoth Jocelyn slyly, "my poor comrade is surely bewitchedby her none the less. She hath wrought on him spell so potent that hegroweth mopish and talketh of her eyes, her hair, her sweet and gentlevoice, her little foot, forsooth."

  "And doth he so, indeed?" said Melissa softly, and, twiddling one ofher own pretty feet, she smiled at it. "Doth he sigh o'er much?" shequestioned.

  "Consumedly! By the minute!"

  "Poor soldier!" she murmured.

  "Aye, poor rogue!" said Jocelyn; whereupon she frowned again, and turnedher back upon him.

  "And he is thy comrade."

  "Even so--poor knave!"

  "And destitute--even as thou?"

  "Aye, a sorry clapper-claw--even as I, lady."

  "Then, pray thee, why doth he wear gold chain about his neck?"

  "Chain, lady--?"

  "Such as only knights do wear!"

  "Belike he stole it, lady--"

  "Aye--belike he did!" said she, rising; then she sighed and laughed, and soturned and left him.

  And in a while Jocelyn rose also, and went on beside the brook; but as hewalked deep in thought, there met him Robin, he full of mirth and laughter.

  "Oho, brother, good brother!" cried he joyfully, clapping hand on Jocelyn'sbroad shoulder, "come away, now, and see what the good wind hath blownhither--come thy ways and see!"

  So came they where rose a great tree of huge girth, whose gnarled branchesspread far and wide, a veryforest of leaves, beneath whose shade were manyof the outlaws grouped about one who crouched miserably on his knees, hisarms fast bound and a halter about his neck; and, as obedient to Robin'swords the fierce company fell back, Jocelyn saw this torn and pallidcaptive was none other than Ranulph the Hangman.

  "Woe's me, my masters!" quoth he 'twixt chattering teeth. "'Tis pity poorRanulph must die before his time, for ne'er shall be found hangman,headsman or torturer the like o' Ranulph--so dainty i' the nice adjustmento' noose! So clean and delicate wi' the axe! So tender and thoughtful wi'pincers, thumbscrew, rack or red-hot iron! A hangman so kindly o' soul, somerry o' heart, alack, so free, so gay, so merry--forsooth a very wanton,waggish, jovial bawcock-lad--"

  "Why, then, good, merry wag," laughed Robin, "now shalt thou cut us anantic aloft in air, shalt caper and dance in noose to our joyance! Up withhim, bully lads, and gently, that he may dance the longer!"

  But as Ranulph was dragged, shivering, to his feet, Jocelyn steppedforward.

  "Stay!" he cried. "Look, now, here's hangman did but hang since hang hemust; must he hang therefore?"

  ROBIN: Aye, marry, since hanging shall his hanging end!

  JOCELYN: But if to hang his duty is, must he for duty hang? Moreover, if yehang this hangman, unhanged hangmen shall hang still, and since ye may notall hangmen hang, wherefore should this hangman hang?

  ROBIN: Brother, an this hangman hang, fewer hangmen shall there be to hang,forsooth.

  JOCELYN: Not so, Robin, for hangman dead begetteth hangman new; thishangman hanged, hangman in his place shall hang men after him. Shall thishangman hang for hanging as in duty bound, whiles other hangmen, unhanged,hang still? Here, methinks, is small wisdom, little reason, and less ofjustice, Robin.

  ROBIN: Beshrew me, brother--but here's so much of hanging hanging onhanging plaguy hangman that hang me if I get the hang on't--

  JOCELYN: Plainly, Robin--wilt hang a man for doing his duty?

  ROBIN: Plainly, brother--no. But--

  JOCELYN: Then canst not hang this hangman, since hanging his duty is--

  ROBIN: Yet 'tis base, vile duty--

  JOCELYN: Yet duty it is--wherefore, an there be any justice in the goodgreenwood, this hangman unhanged must go.

  Now here Robin scowled, and his brawny fellows scowled likewise, and beganto mutter and murmur against Jocelyn, who, leaning back to tree, strummedhis lute and sang:

  "O, Life is sweet, but Life is fleet, O'er quick to go, alack! And once 'tis spilt, try as thou wilt, Thou canst not call it back!

  "So bethink thee, bold Robin, and, as thou 'rt king o' the wild-wood, bethou just king and merciful--"

  "Now out upon thee, brother!" cried Robin, forgetting to scowl. "Out onthee with thy honied phrases, thy quipsome lilting rhymes! Here go I to doa thing I ha' no lust to do--and all by reason o' thee! Off--off wi' thehalter, lads--loose the hangman-claws of him! Hereafter, since he can payno ransom, he shall be our serf; to have a hangman fetch and carry shallbe rare, methinks!"

  Quoth JOCELYN: How much s
hould hangman's flesh be worth i' the greenwood,Robin?

  "Why, brother, 'tis poor, sad and dismal knave; five gold pieces shall buyhim, aye--halter and all, and 'tis fair, good halter, look you!"

  "Why, then," said Jocelyn, opening his wallet, "behold the monies, so do Ibuy him of thee--"

  "Now, by Saint Nick!" cried Robin, amazed. "Nay, brother, an thou'lt buy sosorry a thing, give thy money to the merry lads; I'll none on't. And now,"said he, the money duly paid, "what wilt do wi' thy hangman?"

  "Sir Fool," cried Ranulph, falling on his knees at Jocelyn's feet, "fainwould I serve thee--e'en to the peril o' the life thou hast saved. Bid melabour for thee and in labour shall be my joy, bid me fight for thee and Iwill fight whiles life is in me; bid me follow thee and I will follow evenunto--"

  "Nay, hangman," said Jocelyn, "I bid thee rise and sing for us, and so begone wheresoever thou wilt."

  Then Ranulph arose and glancing round upon the fierce company, from thenoose at his feet to Jocelyn's scarred face, he drew a great breath; quothhe:

  "Sir Fool, since 'tis thy will fain would I give thee song blithe andjoyful since joy is in my heart, but alack, though my songs begin in merryvein they do grow mournful anon; howbeit, for thy joy now will I sing mycheeriest;" whereupon Ranulph brake into song thus:

  "I am forsooth a merry soul, Hey deny down, ho ho! I love a merry song to troll, I love to quaff a cheery bowl, And yet thinks I, alas! Such things too soon do pass, And proudest flesh is grass. Alack-a-day and woe, Alack it should be so!

  "A goodly lover I might be, Merrily, ho ho! But pretty maids in terror flee, When this my hangman's head they see. But woe it is, thinks I, All fair, sweet dames must die, And pale, sad corpses lie. Alack-a-day and woe, Alack it should be so!

  "Fairest beauty is but dust, Shining armour soon will rust, All good things soon perish must, Look around, thinks I, and see All that, one day, dead must be, King and slave and you and me. Alack-a-day and woe, Alack it must be so!"

  "Out!" cried Robin. "Here forsooth is dolorous doleful dirge--out on theefor sad and sorry snuffler!"

  "Aye, verily," sighed Ranulph, "'tis my curse. I begin with laugh and endin groan. I did mean this for merry song, yet it turned of itself sad songdespite poor I, and there's the pity on't--"

  "Enough!" growled Robin, "away with him. Brand, do you hoodwink him in his'kerchief and give him safe conduct to beyond the ford, and so set MasterHangman Grimglum-grief on his road--"

  "Sir Fool," cried Ranulph, "God den t'ye and gramercy. Should it be e'erthy fate to die o' the gallows, may I have thy despatching--I will contriveit so sweetly shalt know nought of it--oho! 'twould be my joy."

  "Off!" cried Robin. "Off, thou pestiferous fungus lest I tread onthee--hence, away!"

  So the outlaws blindfolded Ranulph and led him off at speed.

  "Away," quoth Jocelyn, nodding, "so now in faith must I, Robin--"

  "What, is't indeed farewell, brother?"

  "Aye, Robin."

  "Why, then, what may I give thee in way o' love and friendship?"

  "Thy hand."

  "Behold it, brother! And what beside? Here is purse o' good pieces--ha?"

  "Nay, Robin, prithee keep them for those whose need is greater."

  "Can I nought bestow--dost lack for nothing, brother?"

  "What thou, methinks, may not supply--"

  "And that?"

  "Horse and armour!" Now at this, Robin laughed and clapped hand to thigh;quoth he:

  "Come with Robin, brother!" So he brought Jocelyn into a cave beneath thesteep and, lighting a torch from fire that burned there, led him on throughother caves and winding passages rough-hewn in the rock, and so at last toa vasty cavern.

  And here was great store of merchandise of every sort,--velvets, silks,and rich carpets from the Orient; vases of gold and silver, and coffersstrong-clamped with many iron bands. And here also, hanging against therocky walls, were many and divers suits of armour with helms and shieldsset up in gallant array; beholding all of which Jocelyn paused to eye merryRobin askance; quoth he soberly:

  "Sir Rogue, how came ye by all this goodly furniture?"

  "By purest chance, brolher," laughed Robin, "for hark 'ee--

  "Chance is a wind to outlaws kind, And many fair things blows us, It--merchants, priors, lords, knights and squires, And like good things bestows us--"

  "Aye," said Jocelyn, "but what of all those knights and squires whosearmour hangeth here?"

  "Here or there, brother, they come and they go. Ha, yonder soundethRalfwyn's horn--three blasts which do signify some right fair windfall.Come, let us see what this jolly wind hath blown us this time!" Sosaying, Robin laughed and led the way out into the sunny green. And here,surrounded by a ring of merry forest rogues, they beheld a knight rightgallantly mounted and equipped, his armour blazing in the sun, his gaudybannerole a-flutter from long lance, his shield gaudy and brave with newpaint; beholding which, Robin chuckled gleefully; quoth he:

  "Oho! On a field vert three falcons gules, proper, charged with heartensanguined--aha, here's good booty, methinks!"

  Now, as this splendid knight rode nearer, contemptuous of his brawnycaptors, Robin stared to see that on his helmet he wore a wreath offlowers, while lance and sword, mace and battle-axe were wreathed inblooming roses.

  "Ho, Jenkyn, Cuthbert!" cried Robin, "what Sir Daintiness have ye here?"But ere his grinning captors could make reply, the knight himself spakethus:

  "Behold a very gentle knight, Sir Palamon of Tong, A gentle knight in sorry plight, That loveth love and hateth fight, A knight than fight had rather write, And strophes to fair dames indite, Or sing a sighful song.

  "By divers braggarts I'm abused, 'Tis so as I've heard tell, Because, since I'm to fight unused, I many a fight have bold refused, And, thereby, saved my bones unbruised, Which pleaseth me right well.

  "No joy have I in steed that prances, True gentle man am I To tread to lutes slow, stately dances. 'Stead of your brutish swords and lances, I love love's lureful looks and glances, When hand to hand, unseen, advances, And eye caresseth eye."

  "And how a plague, Sir Gentleness," questioned Robin, "may eye caress eye?"

  "E'en as lips voiceless may wooing speak, Sir Roguery, and tongue unwaggingtell tales o' love, Sir Ferocity."

  ROBIN: Then had I the trick o' voiceless speech, now would I, with sillytongue, tell thee thou art our prisoner to ransom, Sir Silken Softness.

  SIR PALAMON: And I joy therefore, Sir Forest Fiend.

  ROBIN: And wherefore therefore?

  SIR PALAMON: For that therefore I need not to the joust, to thatbone-shattering sport of boastful, brutal braggadocios, but here, lappedsoft in the gentle green, woo the fair Yolande--

  JOCELYN: How, knight, the fair lady Yolande, say'st thou?

  SIR PALAMON: Even she.

  JOCELYN: But here she is not and thou art, how then may one that is, wooone is not?

  SIR PALAMON: Gross mountebank, by thought--I woo in thought, breathe mythought upon the balmy air and air beareth it to her feet.

  ROBIN: And she treadeth on't, so there's an end o' thy love! But pray you,Sir Downy Daintiness, how come ye that are so gentle so ungently dight?Discourse, Sir Dove!

  SIR PALAMON: In two words then, thou lewd lurcher o' the thickets; I ridethus in steely panoply--the which doth irk me sore--by reason of the tongueof my mother (good soul!) the which doth irk me more. For she (worthylady!) full-fed o' fatuous fantasies and fables fond, fuddled i' faitho' faddling fictions as--gestes of jongleurs, tales told by trampingtroubadours, ballades of babbling braggarts, romances of roysterousrhymers, she (good gossip!) as I say, having hearkened to and perused theworks of such-like pelting, paltry prosers and poets wherein sweep of swordand lunge o' lance is accompted of worthier repute than the penning ofdainty distich and pretty poesies pleasingly passionate. She, I say--mymother (God rest her!), e'en she with tongue most harsh, most bitter andmost unwearying, hath enforced me,
her son (whom Venus bless!)--e'en I thatam soul most transcendental--I that am a very wing-ed Mercury--me, I sayshe hath, by torrential tongueful tumult (gentle lady!), constrained to donthe habit of a base, brawling, beefy and most material Mars! Wherefore atmy mother's behest (gracious dame!) I ride nothing joyful to be bruised andbattered by any base, brutal braggart that hath the mind to try a tilt withme. Moreover--

  ROBIN: Hold! Take breath, gentle sir, for thine own sweet sake draw thywind.

  SIR PALAMON: 'Tis done, fellow, 'tis done! And now in three words willI--

  ROBIN: Cry ye mercy, sir, thy two words do yet halloo "Buzz-buzz" in mineears.

  SIR PALAMON: Faith, robber-rogue, since I a tongue possess--

  ROBIN: Therein thou art very son o' thy mother (whom St. Anthony cherish!).

  SIR PALAMON: With this rare difference, outlaw--for whereas her tongue(honoured relict!) is tipped with gall, wormwood, henbane, hemlock,bitter-aloes and verjuice, and stingeth like the adder, the asp, the toad,the newt, the wasp, and snaky-haired head of Medusa, mine--

  ROBIN: Buzzeth, buzz, O buzz!

  SIR PALAMON: Mine, thou paltry knave, I say mine--

  ROBIN: Buzz--ha--buzz!

  JOCELYN: I pray you, Sir Knight, doth the Red Gui tilt at to-morrow'sjoust?

  SIR PALAMON: Base mime, he doth! My Lord Gui of Ells, Lord Seneschal ofRaddemore, is myfriend, a very mirror of knightly prowess, the sure mightof whose lance none may abide. He is, in very truth, the doughtiestchampion in all this fair country, matchless at any and every weapon,a-horse or a-foot, in sooth a very Ajax, Achilles, Hector, Roland andOliver together and at once, one and indivisible, aye--by Cupid a verypaladin!

  "'Tis so I've heard," said Jocelyn thoughtfully.

  SIR PALAMON: Two knights only there are might cope with him, and one SirAgramore and one Jocelyn of the Helm, Duke of Brocelaunde. The fame ofwhich last rumour hath so puffed up that thrice my Lord Gui hath sent hiscartel of defiance, but the said Duke, intent on paltry battles beyond hismarches, hath thrice refused, and wisely--so 'tis said.

  "Aye me, messire," quoth Jocelyn, strumming his lute, "and so bloweth thewind. Yet mayhap these twain shall meet one day."

  ROBIN: And heaven send me there to see! Now as to thee, Sir Softly Sweet,fair Lord of Tong, thy goodly horse and armour are mine henceforth,first because thy need of them is nothing, secondly because thou art myprisoner--

  SIR PALAMON: And thirdly, Sir Riotous Roughness, I do freely on thee bestowthem, hide and hair, bolt and rivet.

  ROBIN: Now as to thy ransom, Sir Mildly-Meek, at what price dost rate thyvalue, spiritual and corporeal?

  SIR PALAMON: Fellow, though youthful, well-favoured and poet esteemed, I amyet marvellous modest! 'Tis true I am knight of lineage lofty, of patrimonyproud, of manors many--

  ROBIN: Even as of thy words, Sir Emptiness.

  SIR PALAMON: 'Tis also true, thou ignorant atomy, I, like Demosthenes, amblessed with a wonder o' words and glory o' sweet phrase, and yet, andhere's the enduring wonder--I am still but man, though man blessed with somuch profundity, fecundity, and redundity of thought and expression, andtherefore a facile scribe or speaker, able to create, relate, formulate orpostulate any truth, axiomatic, sophistry subtle, or, in other words, Ican narrate--

  ROBIN: Verily Sir Windbag thou dost, to narrate, thyself with windinflate, and, being thus thyself inflate of air, thou dost thyself deflateof airy sounds which be words o' wind, and windy words is emptiness--thusby thy inflatings and deflatings cometh nought but wind bred o' wind, andnought is nothing, so nought is thy relation or narration; whereof makenow a cessation, so will I, in due form, formulate, postulate anddeliberate. Thus, with my good rogues' approbation and acclamation, I willof thy just valuation make tabulation, and give demonstration in relationto thy liberation from this thy situation, as namely, viz. and to-wit:First thou art a poet; in this is thy marketable value to us nought, forpoets do go empty of aught but thought of sort when wrought, unbought;thus go they short which doth import they're empty, purse and belly.Second, upon thy testimony thou'rt a man. Go to! Here we be out again, foron the score of manliness thou art not. Yet thou art flesh and blood--good! for here we deal in such. Not that we yearn for thy flesh and blood,but, being thine, they are to thee dear, perchance, and thou would'st fainkeep them alive a little longer; wherefore thou shalt for thy loved fleshand blood pay--purchasing the same of us. And, as flesh varies, so do ourprices vary; we do sell a man his own flesh and blood at certain rateablevalues. Thus unto a hangman we did of late sell a hangman, in fair goodhalter, and he a hangman brawny, for no more than five gold pieces, thewhich was cheap, methinks, considering the goodly halter, and he a lusty,manly rogue to boot. Now as for thee, thou'rt soft and of a manlihoodindifferent, so would I rate thee at one gold piece.

  SIR PALAMON: Ignorant grub! Am I less than base hangman--I, a knight--

  ROBIN: True, Sir Knight, thou'rt a knight for no reason but that thouart knight born and thus, by nought but being born, hath won to thyselfnobility, riches and honours such as no man may win either by courage,skill, or learning, since highborn fool and noble rogue do rank high 'bovesuch. So _thou_ art knight, Sir Knight, and for thy knighthood, thy lineagelofty, thy manors many, mulcted thou shalt be in noble fashion. For thymanhood I assess thee at one gold piece, but, since thou'rt son o' thy dam(whom the Saints pity!) we do fine thee five thousand gold pieces--thy bodyours until the purchase made. Away with him, lads; cherish him kindly,unarm him gently, and set him a-grinding corn till his ransom bepaid--away!

  Now here was mighty roar of laughter and acclaim from all who heard,only Sir Palamon scowled, and, for once mute and tongue-tied, was ledincontinent away to his labours.

  "And now, brother," quoth Robin, turning where Jocelyn stood smiling andmerry-eyed, "what o' this armour dost seek, and wherefore?"

  "Art a lovely robber, Robin," said he; "a very various rogue, yet no rogueborn, methinks!"

  "I was not always outlaw, brother--howbeit, what would a Fool with horseand knightly arms?"

  Now Jocelyn, bending close, whispered somewhatin Robin's ear, whereon heclapped hand to thigh, and laughed and laughed until the air rang again.

  "Oho, a jape--a jape indeed!" he roared. "O lovely brother, to see proudknight unhorsed by prancing motley Fool! Hey, how my heart doth jump forgladness! An thou wilt a-tilting ride, I will squire thee--a Fool of aknight tended by Rogue of a squire. O, rare--aha! oho! Come thy ways, sweetbrother, and let us set about this joyous jape forthwith!"

  And thus it was that, as evening fell, there rode, through bowery brackenand grassy glade, two horsemen full blithe and merry, and the setting sunflashed back in glory from their glittering armour.