“O cry thee mercy, my lord,” said Corinius, “I should have remembered, dreams of Sriva’s moist lips keep thee from straying. But enough of this fooling: to the matter.”
Lord Laxus flushed. “By my faith,” said he, “this is very much to the matter. ’Twere well, Corinius, if thy loose thoughts were kept from straying. Spend men on a fortress? Better assay Galing, then: that were a prize worth more to our safety and our lordship here.”
“Ay,” said Heming. “Seek out the enemy. ’Tis therefore we came hither: not to find women for thee.”
Thereupon the Lord Corinius struck him across the table a great buffet in the face. Heming, mad wroth, snatched out a dagger; but Gro and Laxus catching him one by either hand restrained him. Gro said, “My lords, my lords, you must not word it so dangerous ill. We have but one heart and mind here, to magnify our Lord the King and his glory. Thou, Heming, forget not the King hath put authority in the hand of Corinius, so that thy dagger set against him setteth most treasonably against the King’s majesty. And thou, my lord, I pray be temperate in thy power. Sure, for want of open war it is that our hands be so ready for these private brawls.”
When by fair words this stew was cooled again, Corinius bade Gro say forth his mind, what he thought lay next to do. Gro answered, “My lord, I am of Laxus’s opinion. Abiding here by Krothering, we fare as idle cooks toying with sweetmeats while the roast spoils. We should seek out power and destroy it where still it fareth free, lest it swell again to a growth may danger us: wheresoever these lords be fled, think not they’ll be slack to prepare a mischief for us.”
“I see,” said Corinius, “ye be all three of an accord against me. But there is no one beam of these thoughts your discourse hath planted in me, but is able to discern a greater cloud than you do go in.”
“It is very true,” said Laxus, “that we do think somewhat scornfully of this war against women.”
“Ay, there’s the cover off the dish!” said Corinius, “and a pretty mess within. Y’are woman-mad, every jack of you, and this blears your eyes to think me sick o’ the same folly. Thou and thy little dark-eyed baggage, that I dare swear hath months ago forgot thee for another. Heming here and I know not what sweet maid his young heart doteth on. Gro, ha! ha!” and he fell a-laughing. “Wherefore the King saddled me with this Goblin, he only knoweth, and his secretary the Devil: not I. By Satan, thou hast a starved look i’ the eyes giveth me to think the errand I sent thee to Krothering gates did thee no good. My cat’s leering look showeth me that my cat goeth a catterwawing. Dost now find the raven’s wing a seemlier hue in a wench’s hair to set thy cold blood a-leaping than tawny red? Or dost think this one hath a softer breast than thy Queen’s to cushion thy perfumed locks?”
With that word spoken, all three of them leaped from their seats. Gro, with a face ashen gray, said, “At me thou mayst spit what filth thou wilt. I am schooled to bear with it for Witchland’s sake and until thine own venom choke thee. But this shalt thou not do whiles I live, thou or any other: to let thy bawdy tongue meddle with Queen Prezmyra’s name.”
Corinius sat still in his chair in a posture of studied ease, but his sword was ready. His great jowl was set, his insolent blue eyes scornfully looked from one to another of those lords where they stood menacing him. “Pshaw!” said he, at last. “Who brought her name into it but thyself, my Lord Gro? not I.”