Beholding them in humble, mean array, With gestures fierce did order them away. "Nay," quoth Sir Pertinax, "here will we bide, Here will we eat and drink and sleep beside. Go, bring us beef, dost hear? And therewith mead, And, when we've ate, good beds and clean we 'll need." "Ho!" cried the host. "Naught unto ye I'll bring Until yon Fool shall caper first and sing!" Said Jocelyn: "I'll sing when I have fed!" "And then," quoth Pertinax, "we will to bed!" "And wilt thou so?" the surly host replied; "No beds for likes o' ye do I provide. An' ye will sleep, knave, to the stable go, The straw is good enough for ye, I trow."
"Ha!" roared Sir Pertinax. "A stable? Straw? This to me, thou filthy clapper-claw, Thou fly-blown cod's-head, thou pestiferous thing!" And, roaring, on the brawny host did spring;
By his large ears Sir Pertinax did take him, And to and fro, and up and down, did shake him; He shook him quick and slow, from side to side, While loud for aid the shaken landlord cried. Whereat the vicious crowd, in sudden wrath, Shouted and cursed and plucked their daggers forth. But, ere to harm our bold Knight they were able, Duke Joc'lyn lightly sprang on massy table; Cock's-comb a-flaunt and silver bells a-ring, He laughing stood and gaily plucked lute-string, And cut an antic with such merry grace That angry shouts to laughter loud gave place.
"Bold bawcocks, brave, bibulous, babbling boys, Tall tosspots, come, temper this tumult and noise; So shall I sing sweetly such songs as shall sure Constrain carking care and contumacy cure. Thus, therefore--"
But here the surly landlord raised much clamour and outcry, whiles he touched and caressed his great ears with rare gentleness.
"Oho, my yeres!" roared he. "My yeres do be in woeful estate. Oho, what o' yon fierce-fingered rogue, good fellows, what o' yon knave--'a did twist my yeres plaguily and wring 'em roguishly, 'a did! Shall 'a not be beaten and drubbed out into the kennel, ha? What o' poor Nykins' yeres, says I--my yeres, oho!"
"Thine ears, unsavoury scullion," laughed Jocelyn; "thine ears, forsooth? Hark ye, of thy so great, so fair, so fine ears I'll incontinent make a song. List ye, one and all, so shall all here now hear my song of ears!" Forthwith Duke Jocelyn struck his lute and sang: