Replied the dwarf:
“Methinks you're all too rash to venture here. 'Tis more indeed than rashness,—downright folly. You wake my pity; therefore take advice, and get you gone before my lord returns, save that you covet an inglorious death, or torments even worse.”
Jaufry with smiles replied:
“Nay, friend, I want the knights; quickly lead on, that I may break their chains.”
“An I mistake not, you will join their ranks ere you deliver them; and I must hold you as a fool distraught, not to have hied you hence; for should my lord chance meet you by the way, deeply you'll grieve that e'er you ventured here.”
“Thy lord will ne'er return; I have deprived him of his nimble feet, and near his end he lies. The knights shall now be free, and thou, my prisoner, their place shalt take, save that thou goest where my bidding sends; then peradventure brief shall be thy thrall.”
“Sir knight,” the dwarf replied, “since, then, my lord is thus so poorly sped, I, by my faith, will follow your commands, and from great pain will draw those suffering knights, whose language is but moans; this featly will I do, who by constraint and fear was here detained. Truly, to God and you we should give thanks, and joyfully obey what you ordain.”
“First, then,” said Jaufry, “lead me to the knights.”
The dwarf most gladly acted as his guide; and pacing on before, conveyed him to a hall where five-and-twenty knights were rudely chained, as each by turns had been the yeoman's prey. Jaufry on entering made them a salute, to which not one replied; nay, they began to weep, and mutter in their teeth:
“Accurs'd the day that yeoman was e'er born, who thus hath overcome so good a knight!”