"Enough!" quoth Fidelis, "unworthy art thou to take her name within thy lips—enough!" So saying Sir Fidelis stepped back a pace and drew his sword.
Now Beltane, yet astride the mighty roan that snuffed the fragrant air and stooped to crop the tender herbage, looked upon the youthful paladin 'neath wrinkled brow, and pulled his lip as one in doubt. Anon he sighed and therewith smiled and shook his head.
Quoth he:
"O Fidelis, now do I see that I must needs love thee some day. Fidelis, art a fool, but a right sweet fool, so do I humbly sue thy foolish pardon, and, as to Helen, may she prove worthy thy sweet faith and I thy love and friendship. So, fair knight, put up thy sword—come, mount and let us on. Sir Mars, methinks, doth snuff water afar, and I do yearn me for the cool of it."
So in a while they rode on again, yet presently Sir Fidelis, meek-voiced, preferred a sudden question, thus:
"Lord, fain would I know why thou dost contemn her so—"
"Nay," sighed Beltane, "here is a tale un-meet thy tender years. Speak we of other things—as thus, wherefore didst keep our lives in jeopardy to bring away the wallet that cumbereth thy hip?"
"For that within doth lie, first—our supper—"
"O foolish youth, these woods do teem with food!"
"A neat's tongue, delicately seasoned—"