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Long may the old people survive to keep their guardian Angel from the mingled sorrows and joys of matrimony! “Tenete l’uocchie de miricula nere; Che ffa la vostra matre che n’n de’ marite? La vostra matre n’a de’ marito’ apposte Pe’ ne’ lleva’ son fior, a la fenestre.” How is it that your mother does not wed you?
In the curious figure of the Tournament, we have a characteristic play of mediaeval fancy. As Langland puts it, a little differently: "Then was Faith in a fenestre, and cryed: Ah! Fili David! As doth an heraude of armes when adventrous cometh to jousts. Olde Jewes of Jerusalem for joy they sungen, Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.
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