Had I been pot-valiant, I
had held you play."
"Sir knight," said Marian, "this is the third time you have sought
the life of my lord and of me, for mine is interwoven with his.
And do you think me so spiritless as to believe that I can be yours
by compulsion? Tempt me not again, for the next time shall be the last,
and the fish of the nearest river shall commute the flesh of a
recreant knight into the fast-day dinner of an uncarnivorous friar.
I spare you now, not in pity but in scorn. Yet shall you swear
to a convention never more to pursue or molest my lord or me,
and on this condition you shall live."
The knight had no alternative but to comply, and swore,
on the honour of knighthood, to keep the convention inviolate.
How well he kept his oath we shall have no opportunity of narrating:
Di lui la nostra istoria piu non parla.
CHAPTER XVI
Carry me over the water, thou fine fellowe. Old Ballad.
The pilgrims, without experiencing further molestation, arrived at
the retreat of Sir Guy of Gamwell. They found the old knight
a cup too low; partly from being cut off from the scenes of his
old hospitality and the shouts of his Nottinghamshire vassals,
who were wont to make the rafters of his ancient hall re-echo
to their revelry; but principally from being parted from his son,
who had long been the better half of his flask and pasty.
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