No, by my hilt! I should look with a more loving eye upon a jolly
archer who never harmed a fallen foe and never feared a hale
one."
"Doubtless you mean no sin," said Alleyne. "If your words are
wild, it is not for me to judge them. Can you not see that there
are other foes in this world besides Frenchmen, and as much glory
to be gained in conquering them? Would it not be a proud day for
knight or squire if he could overthrow seven adversaries in the
lists? Yet here are we in the lists of life, and there come the
seven black champions against us Sir Pride, Sir Covetousness, Sir
Lust, Sir Anger, Sir Gluttony, Sir Envy, and Sir Sloth. Let a
man lay those seven low, and he shall have the prize of the day,
from the hands of the fairest queen of beauty, even from the
Virgin-Mother herself. It is for this that these men mortify
their flesh, and to set us an example, who would pamper
ourselves overmuch. I say again that they are God's own saints,
and I bow my head to them."
"And so you shall, mon petit," replied the archer. "I have not
heard a man speak better since old Dom Bertrand died, who was at
one time chaplain to the White Company.
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