"Thanks to you, great King, my bear is saved!"
Chram's words provoked violent murmurs from the count's leudes; not only did they see themselves deprived of a spectacle that was to delight their eyes, but they imagined themselves humiliated anew, now in the person of the master of the house, their count. The murmurs grew louder.
"Chram is not King in this burg, Neroweg," cried Sigefrid, one of the principal starters of the quarrel that was allayed just as Karadeucq entered the hall with his bear. "No, King Chram cannot by a word deprive us of an amusement that it pleases you to afford us. Neroweg is King in his burg."
"No, no," loudly chimed in the other warriors of the count, "we want to see the fight with the bear. The dogs! the dogs! Neroweg alone commands here."
"Yes, and to the devil with the King!" cried Sigefrid.
"The devil take Chram if he opposes our enjoyment! We are masters here."
"Only brutes of rustics send their guest to the devil when he is the son of their King," put in the Lion of Poitiers with a threatening air. "Is that the example in courtesy that you set to your men, Neroweg? It seems so, judging by the conduct of your steward, who is hastening now, when the banquet is hardly over, to carry away your gold and silver vessels out of fear, I suppose, lest we steal them."
"My sons! My dear sons in Christ! Are you about to start quarreling anew? I order peace, my sons—in the name of heaven, keep the peace!"
"Bishop, you are right to preach peace; these brave leudes who fear that I am interfering with their amusement did not understand me. I told the mountebank that I would not hinder him from earning his living."
"Thanks again, thanks again, great King."