"Good lack, Roger, and wherefore puff ye so? Why glower ye, man, and snort?"
"Excellent, Roger; so will I talk for thee and me. First will I show three excellent reasons for happiness--_videlicit:_ the birds sing, I talk, and Garthlaxton burns.--"
"I would thou did'st burn with it," growled Roger. "But here is a deed shall live when thou and I are dust, archer!"
"Verily, good Roger, for here and now will I make a song on't for souls unborn to sing--a good song with a lilt to trip it lightly on the tongue, as thus:
"How Beltane burned Garthlaxton low With lusty Giles, whose good yew bow Sped many a caitiff rogue, I trow, _Dixit_!"
"How!" exclaimed Roger, "here be two whole lines to thy knavish self and but one to our master?"
"Aye," grumbled Walkyn, "and what of Roger?--what of me?--we were there also, methinks?"
"Nay, show patience," said Giles, "we will amend that in the next triplet, thus:
"There Roger fought, and Walkyn too, And Giles that bare the bow of yew; O swift and strong his arrows flew, _Dixit_!"
"I think, here is too much Giles," said Roger.
"Forsooth, and say ye so indeed? Let us then to another verse:
"Walkyn a mighty axe did sway, Black Roger's sword some few did slay, Yet Giles slew many more than they, _Dixit_!"
"Here now, we have each one his line apiece, which is fair--and the lines trip it commendingly, how think ye?"
"Aye me!" sighed the archer, "thou'rt fasting, Rogerkin, and an empty belly ever giveth thee an ill tongue. Yet for thy behoof my song shall be ended, thus:
"They gave Garthlaxton to the flame, Be glory to Duke Beltane's name, And unto lusty Giles the same, _Dixit_!"
"_Par Dex!_" he broke off, "here is a right good song for thee, trolled forth upon this balmy-breathing morn sweet as any merle; a song for thee and me to sing to our children one day, mayhap--so come, rejoice, my rueful Rogerkin--smile, for to-day I sing and Garthlaxton is ablaze."
"And my master grieveth for a Fool!" growled sulky Roger, "and twenty and two good men slain."
"Why, see you, Roger, here is good cause for rejoicing also, for, our youthful Ajax grieving for a dead Fool, it standeth to reason he shall better love a live one--and thou wert ever a fool, Roger--so born and so bred. As for our comrades slain, take ye comfort in this, we shall divide their share of plunder, and in this thought is a world of solace. Remembering the which, I gathered unto myself divers pretty toys--you shall hear them sweetly a-jingle in my fardel here. As, item: a silver crucifix, very artificially wrought and set with divers gems-- a pretty piece! Item: a golden girdle from the East--very sweet and rare. Item: four silver candlesticks--heavy, Roger! Item: a gold hilted dagger--a notable trinket. Item--"