“And indeed—'t is rare, pretty beast!” exclaimed Benedicta. “But Robin, Robin, O Sir Robert, whence had you this?”
“Lady, upon a time I was an outlaw and lived as outlaws may, taking such things as Fate bestowed, and, lady:
“Fate is a wind
To outlaws kind:
But now since we be free-men all, I and my fellows, fain would we march hence in thy train to thy honour and our joyance. Wilt grant us this boon, lady?”
“Freely, for 'tis rare good thought, Robin! Surely never rode duke and duchess so attended. How the townsfolk shall throng and stare to see our wild following, and my worthy guardians gape and pluck their beards for very amaze! How think you, good Friar John?”
“Why, verily, daughter, I, that am chiefest of thy wardens ten, do think it wise measure; as for thy other guardians let them pluck and gape until they choke.
“In especial Greg'ry Bax,
Who both beard and wisdom lacks.
I say 'tis wise, good measure, for these that were outlaws be sturdy fellows with many friends in town and village, so shall this thy day of union be for them re-union, and they joy with thee.”
Now being mounted the Duchess rode where stood Jocelyn, and looked down on him merry-eyed.
“Sir Fool,” said she, “who thou art I know not, but I have hunted in Brocelaunde ere now, and I have eyes. And as thou 'rt friend to my dear lord, friend art thou of mine, so do we give thee joyous welcome to our duchy. And, being thy friend, I pray thou may'st find that wonder of wonders the which hideth but to be found, and once found, shall make wise Fool wiser.”