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Ma
foi! there were those who wished that he would have less care
for their souls and a little more for their bodies!"
"It is well to have a learned clerk in every troop," said Sir
Nigel. "By St. Paul, there are men so caitiff that they think
more of a scrivener's pen than of their lady's smile, and do
their devoir in hopes that they may fill a line in a chronicle or
make a tag to a jongleur's romance. I remember well that, at the
siege of Retters, there was a little, sleek, fat clerk of the
name of Chaucer, who was so apt at rondel, sirvente, or tonson,
that no man dare give back a foot from the walls, lest he find it
all set down in his rhymes and sung by every underling and varlet
in the camp. But, my soul's bird, you hear me prate as though
all were decided, when I have not yet taken counsel either with
you or with my lady mother. Let us to the chamber, while these
strangers find such fare as pantry and cellar may furnish."
"The night air strikes chill," said the lady, and turned down the
road with her hand upon her lord's arm.


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