"Well, this is sweet music if it be not lively," said Eric: "where are Rumelant and Poppé? 'tis pity they cannot sing Danish; their skilful lays are but ill-suited to these tones."
"They are disputing again on spiritual matters," said the Marsk. "They are better fitted for a council of clerks than a hunting party."
"Let us listen," said the king: "I dare wager Master Poppé is in the right; but Master Rumelant nevertheless will be victor in the controversy."
While the music continued, and the attendants converted a low pile of wood into a table for the repast, the king's attention was attracted by the dispute of the two eager minstrels: each stood with the bridle of his horse in his hand, and spoke in a loud tone, while the grave Master Petrus sat calm and attentive on his palfrey, gazing on the lake.
"I will defend my opinion before the whole body of clerks, and all true believers in Christendom," said the vehement little Rumelant, striking his saddle with the handle of his whip as he spoke: "our sinfulness is assuredly better security for our salvation than all our paltry virtue--that is as true as that our blessed Lady's prayers avail in heaven, and she shows us no favour when she obtains grace for us; she shows us love and gratitude, which she is downright owing us for our sin's sake, for it is not the world's virtue, but its sin alone, she hath to thank for all her honour and glory."
"What are you driving at, my good Master Rumelant?" shouted the gigantic Master Poppé. "How is the holy Virgin honoured by our being a set of sinful scoundrels? that is no honour to us, or any one else."
"Not so, my self-sufficient sir!" shouted his opponent; "truly the case is clearer than the sun: it is assuredly not of our perfection we should boast, but, on the contrary, of our weakness. Would our dear blessed Lady ever have become that she became, had not Adam and Eve sinned, and all of us sinned too in them?"
"No, assuredly not, my dear friend: but how the devil----"
"Ergo, she hath man's sin to thank for her honour and glory! and ergo, she would be most ungrateful were she not to protect sinners, and bring us all likewise to honour and glory for our sin's sake."
"You drive me mad. Master Rumelant," shouted Master Poppé, stamping in wrath; "I know not what to answer you, but you are wrong, by my soul! as I will, like an honest German, show you with my good sword if you desire it. What if I should now commit the sin of slaying you on the spot, would the blessed Virgin bring me to honour and glory because of that? or would it be so small a sin that it could not be imputed to me as a great merit?"