"I shall then answer the Lion of Poitiers that neither he nor you will be able to decide whether my wife is young and handsome or old and ugly; she is with child and unwell, and will not leave her apartments."
"If your wife is with child," replied the Lion of Poitiers, "who may the father be?"
"Count, do not mind his raillery. I told you, my friend is a joker by nature."
"Chram, I shall not take offence at the jokes of your favorite. Let us proceed to the burg."
"Lead the way, count, we shall follow."
The joint cavalcades started for the burg, and the conversation proceeded.
"Count, admit to our royal master Chram that, in concealing your wife, you keep your treasure under lock and key for fear of its being stolen from you."
"My favorite, Spatachair, who holds that language to you, Neroweg, is also of a humorous disposition."
"Prince, meseems you select very gay, and perhaps too bold a set of friends."
"Neroweg, you hide your wife from us—it is your right. We shall hunt her up in her nest—that is our right. There is no lock or key safe against a good thief. The hunt is up."