“Oho!” cried the Witch, cracking her finger-bones. “Now go I hot-foot to weave spells and enchantments, aha—oho! Spells that shall prove the false from the true, the gold from the dross. Thou, Sir Fool, art doubting lover, so art thou blind lover! I will resolve thee thy doubts, open thy eyes and show thee great joy or bitter sorrow—oho! Thou, proud lady, hast stooped to love a motley mountebank—nay, flash not thy bright eyes nor toss haughty head at an old woman—but here is solitude with none to mock thy lowly choice or cry thee shame to love a motley Fool, aha! And thou would'st fain prove thy love True-love, says thou? Why, so thou shalt—beyond all doubting now and for ever, aha—oho! Truest of true or falsest of false. Beware. Farewell, and remember:
“Follow Folly and be wise,
In such folly wisdom lies,
Love's blind, they say; but Love hath eyes,
So follow Folly, follow.
Hither-ho, Lob-Lobkyn! Lend thine old granddam thine arm. Come, my pretty bantling, sweet poppet—come and—away!” o spake old Mopsa the Witch, and vanished into the green with Lobkyn, who turned to flourish his club in cheery salutation ere he plunged into the underbrush. Then Jocelyn smiled down on Yolande to find her pale and trembling, so would he have clasped her to his heart, but a hand grasped him and, turning, he beheld the Tanner at his elbow.
“Friend Fool,” quoth he, “needs must I take thee to Robin that Sir Robert is, e'en as he did command, so come now thy ways with trusty tanner tried.”
“Off, Red-head!” saith Jocelyn, frowning a little. “Away now, lest this my dagger bite thee.” Back leapt Will into the stream whence he had come, and there standing, clapped bugle to lip and winded it lustily, whereupon came divers fellows running, bow in hand, who beset Jocelyn on every side.
“Now yield thee to Tanner, friend,” quoth Will, knee-deep in the stream, “for no mind have I to hurt thee. So away with thy dagger like gentle, kindly Fool, and away with thee to Sir Robin.”
Now hereupon, as Jocelyn frowned upon them, Yolande, standing a-tiptoe, kissed his scarred cheek and clasped his dagger-hand in soft fingers.
“Come,” she pleaded, “they be a-many, so yield me thy dagger and let us go with them, beloved!” At the whispered word Jocelyn loosed the dagger and, clasping her instead, kissed her full-lipped. Then turned he to his captors.
“I'm with thee, Will, thou—tanner!” quoth he. “And now bring hither the horse for my lady's going.”
“Nay,” answered Will, scratching red head, “Rob—Sir Robert spake nothing of horse for thee, or lady.”