"For the nonce," added his companion, understanding well that it was assumed; "but it matters not. Let us ride on, and the gate shall soon be opened to you; for I do think they will be glad to see me back again, though I may not perchance stay long.
'The porter rose anon certaine
As soon as he heard John call.'"
"You seem learned for a countryman," said the traveller, riding on by his side; "but, perchance, I am speaking to a clerk?"
"Good faith, no," replied the first wayfarer; "more soldier than clerk, Hal of Hadnock; as old Robert of Langland says, 'I cannot perfectly my Paternoster, as the priest it singeth, but I can rhyme of Robin Hode and Randof Earl of Chester.' I have cheered my boyhood with many a song and my youth with many a ballad. When lying in the field upon the marches of Wales, I have wiled away many a cold night with the--
'Quens Mountfort, sa dure mort,'
or,
'Richard of Alemaigne, while he was king,'
and then in the cold blasts of March, I ever found comfort in--
'Summer is icumen in,
Lhude sing cuccu,
Groweth sede and bloweth mode,
And springeth the wode nu.'"
"And good reason, too," said Hal of Hadnock; "I do the same, i'faith; and when wintry winds are blowing, I think ever, that a warmer day may come and all be bright again. Were it not for that, indeed, I might well be cold-hearted."