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Here now we sing; here now we stay: By these grey walls we tell The love that lived from out the fray, The love that fought and fell. When he was done they all said that he had sung well, and that the song was sweet. Yet did Wild-wearer smile somewhat; and Bow-may said outright: 'Soft is the song, and hath been made by lads and minstrels rather than by warriors.
Perforce he looked long and earnestly at these fair things, for the hall was not dark yet, because the brands on the hearth were flaming their last, and when Wild-wearer beheld him so gazing, he stood up and looked too for a moment, and then smote his right hand on the hilt of his sword, and turned away and strode up and down the hall as one in angry thought.
'Yea, certes, said the woman, 'else why went I forth this afternoon, as wearied as I was with yesterday? 'Well, well, said Wild-wearer, 'get to thy due work or go play; I meddle not with meat! and for thee all jests are as bitter earnest. 'And with thee, chief, she said, 'it is no otherwise; surely I am made on thy model.
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