HE: Thou sayest.
SHE: Art in service?
HE: Truly.
SHE: Whom serve ye?
HE: A greater than I.
SHE: Art thou wed?
HE: The Saints forfend!
SHE: Then art a poor soldier and solitary.
HE: I might be richer.
SHE: What dost thou fishing here?
HE: I fish.
SHE: And why didst fight three men for me--a maid unknown?
HE: For lack of better employ.
SHE: Rude soldier--whence comest thou?
HE: Fair maiden, from beyond.
SHE: Gross Knight, whither goest thou?
HE: Dainty damosel, back again.
SHE: Dost lack aught?
HE: Quiet!
SHE: How, would"st have me hold my peace, ill fellow?
HE: "T would be a marvel.
SHE: Wherefore?
HE: Thou"rt a woman.
SHE: And thou a man, ill-tongued, ill-beseen, ill-mannered, unlovely, and I like thee not!
HE: And what is worse, the fish bite not.
Now here, and very suddenly, she fell a-weeping, to the Knight"s no small discomfiture, though she wept in fashion wondrous apt and pretty; wherefore Sir Pertinax glanced at her once, looked twice and, looking, scratched his ear, rubbed his chin and finally questioned her in turn:
HE: Distressful damosel, wherefore this dole? SHE: For that I am weary, woeful and solitary. And thou--thou"rt harsh of look, rough of tongue, ungentle of--HE: Misfortunate maiden, thy loneliness is soon amended, get thee to thy friends--thy gossips, thy--
SHE: I have none. And thou"rt fierce and ungentle of face.
Here she wept the more piteously and Sir Pertinax, viewing her distress, forgot his hook and worm, wherefore a fish nibbled it slyly, while the Knight questioned her further:
HE: Woeful virgin, whence comest thou?
SHE: From afar. And thou art ofeatures grim and--
HE: And whither would"st journey?
SHE: No where! And thou art--
HE: Nay, here is thing impossible, since being here thou art somewhere and that within three bowshots of the goodly town of Ca.n.a.lise wherein thou shalt doubtless come by comfort and succour.
SHE: Never! Never! Here will I weep and moan and perish. And thou--
HE: And wherefore moan and perish?
SHE: For that I am so minded, being a maid forlorn and desolate, a poor wanderer dest.i.tute of kith, of kin, of hope, of love, and all that maketh life sweet. And thou art sour-faced and--
HE: Grievous maid, is, among thy many wants, a lack of money?
SHE: That also. And thou art cold of eye, fierce of mouth, hooked of nose, flinty of heart, stony of soul, and I a perishing maid.
At this Sir Pertinax blinked and caught his breath; thereafter he laid down his rod, whereupon the fish incontinent filched his worm all unnoticed while the Knight opened the wallet at his girdle and took thence certain monies.
HE: Dolorous damsel, behold six good, gold pieces! Take them and go, get thee to eat--eat much, so shall thy dolour wax less, eat beef--since beef is a rare lightener of sorrow, by beef shall thy woes be comforted.
SHE: Alas! I love not beef.
Now here Sir Pertinax was dumb a s.p.a.ce for wonder at her saying, while she stole a glance at him betwixt slender fingers.
HE (_after some while_): Maid, I tell thee beef, fairly cooked and aptly seasoned, is of itself a virtue whereby the body is strengthened and nourished, whereby cometh content, and with content kindliness, and with kindliness charity, and therewith all other virtues small and eke great; therefore eat beef, maiden, for the good of thy soul.
"How?" said she, viewing him bright-eyed "twixt her fingers again. "Dost think by beef one may attain to paradise?"
HE: Peradventure.
SHE: Then no beef, for I would not live a saint yet awhile.
HE: Nathless, take thou these monies and go buy what thou wilt.
So saying, Sir Pertinax set the coins beside her shapely foot and took up his neglected rod.
SHE: And is this gold truly mine?