Loud applause followed this doggerel outburst, which had, at least, the merit of being impromptu, which is more than could be said for the skald's untimely production. The skald, however, was very angry, and shouted to the young man to sit down, for he had not finished; but the latter was now also fired with poetical ardour; he had no idea of his latent talent until he found how well his doggerel was received, and attributing this to the success of his wit, and not to the amusement caused by the discomfiture of his rival, he felt he had as much right to be heard as the skald, and having once got on his feet he felt all the delight of a young orator who has made a successful début, and, unfortunately for himself, does not know when to sit down. He refused, therefore, to give way, and proceeded to string some epithets together more forcible than elegant, the poetry of which chiefly consisted in vigorous metaphor, but whose charms were completely lost on the skald, who thundered back rhymes of a more classical kind, but breathing none the less bitter scorn for this miserable upstart who dared to pollute the pure regions of poesy, and contaminate the rich drink of Woden with his ditch-water doggerel. The wordy war waxed fast and furious, and the other competitor for poetical honours, the donkey, added to it from time to time by giving vent to a self-asserting bray, which for the moment silenced the other two completely.
"Look here," shouted Athelhune, "I am getting tired of this; if ye can't settle it to your satisfaction this way I'll show ye another and a better method; ye have bothered us long enough. It is only fair ye should afford us some fun now; catch that donkey one of ye, he's the author of all this. Now drive a stake into the centre of that clear place there, and do ye, old skald and young skald, come out here."
All were now eager to know what Athelhune was going to do, and the two men were inclined to refuse to come out; but the jeers of the others, who accused them of cowardice, at last overcame their disinclinations, and they both came up to Athelhune.
"Give me a couple of bandages," he cried; and when these were soon brought from a neighbouring cottage, he proceeded to tie the bandages tightly round their eyes, thus blindfolding them; he was not able to do this, however, without assuring them that no harm would happen to them. When they were completely blindfolded they were led up to the stake, and each was fastened to it by one ankle with a strong cord about ten yards long. The donkey was also made fast in the same way, and its two hind legs were hobbled. When all these arrangements were completed, two stout sticks were given to the rival poets, and they were told to punish the donkey for its utterly uncalled for interruption. The one who kept on beating longest was to have the right of finishing his improvisation.[4]
[4] This blindfolded encounter was suggested by the account of a contest that took place in Paris, in 1425, between four blindfolded men. Indeed, all through the middle ages such contests were very frequent, horse-play being greatly admired at all times.
A large crowd had by this time assembled, and Cædwalla's followers had all risen from their feast and stood round, and with the sporting instincts of their race were backing the three competitors: for the donkey was to have his share in the contest, and he had been muzzled to prevent his taking an unfair advantage of his vocal powers.
"Is all ready?" called Athelhune. "Then in the name of Woden begin." At this order the two poets cautiously approached the spot where they supposed the donkey was.
The younger man, whose name was Oswald, was not so anxious to hit the donkey as to get a blow at the skald, for this he knew would amuse the bystanders; so after he had gone a few paces he stopped and listened, in order to judge where the others were. The skald, who was a prudent fellow, fearing he might come upon the donkey, and so fall over it, or get tripped over its rope, put his stick in the manner of a feeler in front of him, and came gently groping his way towards the animal. This latter, after a series of violent plunges and kicks, when he found himself first made fast, had since stood perfectly still, gazing upon the crowd in a stupid way, and was suddenly roused from his reverie by feeling the skald's stick poke him in the ribs. Giving a squeal of surprise he jumped to one side, and in so doing came violently against Oswald, who, not expecting this, was instantly thrown down. The skald, thinking the donkey was where he had poked it, rained a storm of blows upon the empty air, and as there was no object for his blows to fall upon, he overbalanced himself, and fell forward on his face.
How ye Skald, ye Yokel, and Ye Jackass strove for a prize of poesie