Selwick Hall, November ye vi.
Yesterday, the afternoon was so fair and sunshine, that Edith and I (Mother giving us leave) rowed o’er to Saint Hubert’s Isle, where Edith sat her down of a great stone, and said she would draw the lake’s picture in little. So I, having no list to stand behind and look on, went off to see if I could find aught, such as a squirrel or a pie, to divert me withal. As for Adam, which had rowed us o’er, he gathered up his nose and his heels all of a lump on the grass, and in five minutes he was snoring like an owl. For me, I wandered on a while, and went all over the ruins of the hermitage, and could find nought to look at save one robin, that sat on a bough and stared at me. After a while I sat me down, and I reckon I should have been a-snoring like Adam afore long, but I heard a little bruit (noise) that caused me turn mine head, and all suddenly I was aware of a right goodly gentleman, and well clad, that leaned against a tree, and gazed upon me, yet with mighty respect and courtesy. He was something past his youth, yet right comely to look to; of a fair hair and beard, and soft eyes, grey (blue) as the sky. Truly, I was something fluttered, for he ware a brave velvet jerkin, and a gold chain as thick as Master Mayor’s. And while I meditated if I should speak unto him or no, he spake first. “I pray you, fair my Mistress, or Madam (then restricted to noble ladies and knights’ wives) if so be, of your good pleasure, to do a stranger to wit of the name of this charming isle?”
“Saint Hubert’s Isle, Sir,” quoth I. “Of old time, as ’tis said, Saint Hubert had an hermitage hereon: the ruins whereof you may see down yonder.”
“Truly, the isle is better accommodated at this present,” saith he, and smiled one of the comeliest smiles ever saw I on a man’s face. “And who was Saint Hubert, if it please my fair damosel?”
“In good sooth, Sir, that know I not,” said I; “save that he were one of the old saints, now done away.”
“If the old saints be done away,” saith he, “thank goodness, the new at least be left.”
Good lack! but I wist not what to answer to so courtly compliments, and the better liked I my neighbour every minute. Methought I had never seen a gentleman so grand and amiable, not to say of so good words.
“And, I pray you, sweet Mistress,” saith he, yet a-leaning against the tree, which was an oak, and I could find it again this minute: “is it lawful for the snared bird to request the name of the fowler?”
“Sir, I pray you of pardon,” I made answer, and I could not help to laugh a little, “but I am all unused to so courtly and flattering words. May it please you to put what you would say into something plainer English?”
“Surely,” saith he, “the rose is not unaccustomed to the delightsome inhalation of her fragrance. Well, fairest Mistress, may I know your name? Is that English plain enough to do you a pleasure?”