Chapter 20 - Page 2

as thou likest best. Thou
thinkest thyself a judge, I have heard, of such gear."

It was usual, in those insecure times, for some faithful domestic
to sleep at night within the tent of every great baron, that, if
danger arose, he might not be unsupported or unprotected. Guarine
accordingly drew his sword, and, taking it in his hand, stretched
himself on the ground in such a manner, that, on the slightest
alarm, he could spring up, sword in hand. His broad black eyes, in
which sleep contended with a desire to listen to the music, were
fixed on Vidal, who saw them glittering in the reflection of the
silver lamp, like those of a dragon or a basilisk.

After a few preliminary touches on the chords of his rote, the
minstrel requested of the Constable to name the subject on which
he desired the exercise of his powers.

"The truth of woman," answered Hugo de Lacy, as he laid his head
upon his pillow.

After a short prelude, the minstrel obeyed, by singing nearly as
follows:--

"Woman's faith, and woman's trust--
Write the characters in dust;
Stamp them on the running stream,
Print them on the moon's pale best,
And each evanescent letter,
Shall be clearer, firmer, better,
And more permanent, I ween,
Than the thing those letters mean.

I have strain'd the spider's thread
'Gainst the promise of a maid;
I have weigh'd a grain of sand
'Gainst her plight of heart and hand;
I told my true love of the token,
How her faith proved light, and her word was broken
Again her word and truth she plight,
And I believed them again ere night."

"How now, sir knave," said the Constable, raising himself on his
elbow, from what drunken rhymer did you learn that half-witted
satire?"

"From an old, ragged, crossgrained friend of mine, called
Experience," answered Vidal. "I pray Heaven, he may never take
your lordship, or any other worthy man, under his tuition."

"Go to, fellow," said the Constable, in reply; "thou art one of
those wiseacres, I warrant me, that would fain be thought witty,
because thou canst make a jest of those things which wiser men
hold worthy of most worship-the honour of men, and the truth of
women. Dost thou call thyself a minstrel, and hast no tale of
female fidelity?"

"I had right many a one, noble sir, but I laid them aside when I
disused my practice of the jesting part of the Joyous Science.
Nevertheless, if it pleases your nobleness to listen, I can sing
you an established lay upon such a subject."

De Lacy made a sign of acquiescence, and laid himself as if to
slumber; while Vidal began one of those interminable