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Updated: June 11, 2025
"Ay, but he held his sword in his left hand, and so pointed across his body with it," said the Templar. Each maintained his opinion with sufficient obstinacy, as is usual in all such cases; the attendants were appealed to, but they had not been near enough to hear Wamba's directions.
"Peace, and move on," said Cedric, his anger at this untimely jest being checked by the recollection of Wamba's recent services. Rowena waved a graceful adieu to him of the Fetterlock the Saxon bade God speed him, and on they moved through a wide glade of the forest.
"I am above jealousy, and scorn it," Rowena answered, drawing herself up very majestically. "Well, well, Wamba's was a good song," Athelstane said. "Nay, a wicked song," said Rowena, turning up her eyes as usual. "What! rail at woman's love? Prefer a filthy wine cup to a true wife? Woman's love is eternal, my Athelstane. He who questions it would be a blasphemer were he not a fool.
Whether it was that this discipline cleared poor Wamba's wits or cooled his humor, it is certain that he became the most melancholy fool in England, and if ever he ventured upon a pun to the shuddering poor servitors, who were mumbling their dry crusts below the salt, it was such a faint and stale joke that noboby dared to laugh at the innuendoes of the unfortunate wag, and a sickly smile was the best applause he could muster.
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