“Fight, grandam,
Smite, grandam,
Sweet, blood-begetting blows.
Where Fool goeth
Well Fool knoweth
Lobkyn likewise goes.”
“Why, then, my bantling—loved babe, fight thy fiercest, for these be wicked men and 't will be an evil fray. And she is sweet and good, so, Lobkyn, be thy strongest—”
Saith Lobkyn:
“Aye that will I,
Or may I die.
By this good kiss
I vow thee this.
“And here is signal, Fool, shall shew
Each where the other chance to go.
“Croak like a frog,
Bark like a dog,
Grunt like a hog,
I'll know thee.
“Hoot like an owl,
Like grey wolf howl,
Or like bear growl,
'T will shew thee—”
“Then come, trusty Lob, and my thanks to thee!” cried Jocelyn, catching up his quarter-staff. “But haste ye, for I would be hence ere the moon get high. Come!”
So Duke Jocelyn strode away with Lobkyn Lollo at his heels; now as they went, the moon began to rise.