The whole circle was hung round with one continuous garland
of flowers, depending in irregular festoons from the branches.
In the centre of the green was a May-pole hidden in boughs
and garlands; and a multitude of round-faced bumpkins and
cherry-checked lasses were dancing around it, to the quadruple
melody of Scrapesqueak, Whistlerap, Trumtwang, and Muggledrone:
harmony we must not call it; for, though they had agreed to a partnership
in point of tune, each, like a true painstaking man, seemed determined
to have his time to himself: Muggledrone played allegretto,
Trumtwang allegro, Whistlerap presto, and Scrapesqueak prestissimo.
There was a kind of mathematical proportion in their discrepancy:
while Muggledrone played the tune four times, Trumtwang played
it five, Whistlerap six, and Scrapesqueak eight; for the latter
completely distanced all his competitors, and indeed worked his
elbow so nimbly that its outline was scarcely distinguishable
through the mistiness of its rapid vibration.
While the knight was delighting his eyes and ears with these
pleasant sights and sounds, all eyes were turned in one direction;
and Sir Ralph, looking round, saw a fair lady in green and
gold come riding through the trees, accompanied by a portly
friar in grey, and several fair damsels and gallant grooms.
On their nearer approach, he recognised the lady Matilda and her
ghostly adviser, brother Michael.
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