With sleepy eyes Duke Jocelyn watched afar,
In deep, blue void a solitary star,
That, like some bright and wakeful eye, did seem
To watch him where he lay 'twixt sleep and dream.
And, as he viewed it winking high above,
He needs must think of Yolande and his love,
And how, while he this twinkling star did view,
She, wakeful lying, might behold it too,
Whereas she lay a spotless maid and fair,
Clothed in the red-gold glory of her hair;
And, thinking thus, needs must he fondly sigh,
Then frowned to hear a lusty snore hard by—
—and looking whence came this sound, the Duke sat up and his wonder grew; for by light of a fire that glowed in a blackened fissure of rock he beheld himself couched on a bed of bracken within a roomy cave. Beside the fire leaned a mighty, iron-shod club, and beyond this, curled up like a dog, snored Lobkyn Lollo, the Dwarf. Hereupon Jocelyn reached out and shook Lob to wakefulness, who grunted sleepily, rubbed his eyes drowsily and yawned mightily:
Quoth JOCELYN: Good Dwarf, where am I?
Answered LOBKYN:
Safe, Fool, safe art thou, I trow,
Where none but Lob and friends do know.
JOCELYN: But how am I hither?
LOBKYN: Why, truly thou art hither, Fool,
Because thou art not thither, Fool!
In these two arms, thy life to save,
I bore thee to this goodly cave.
JOCELYN: How may one of thy inches bear man of mine so far?
LOBKYN: Why, Fool, though I of inches lack,
I'm mighty strong, both arm and back,
Thou that art longer man than me,
Yet I am stronger man than thee,
Though, lusty Fool, big fool you be,
I'd bear thee, Fool, if thou wert three.
And mark, Fool, if my grammar seemeth weak,
Pray license it since I in verse must speak.
JOCELYN: And pray why must thou speak in verse?
LOBKYN: Nature hath on me laid this curse,
And, though to speak plain prose I yearn,
My prose to verse doth ever turn.
Therefore I grieve, as well I might,
Because of my poetic plight—
Though bards and rhymers all I scorn,
Alack! I was a rhymer born.
JOCELYN: Alack! poor Dwarf, as thou must versify,
By way of courtesy, then, so will I.
LOBKYN: How, Fool, then canst thou rhyme?
JOCELYN: Aye, Dwarf, at any time!
In dark, in light,
By day, by night,
Standing, sitting,
As be fitting,
Verses witty,
Quaint or pretty,
Incontinent I'll find.
Verses glad, Dwarf,
Verses sad, Dwarf,
Every sort, Lob,
Long or short, Lob
Or verses ill,
Yet verses still
Which might be worse,
I can rehearse
When I'm for verse inclined.
So, Lob, first speak me what became
Of our old Witch, that potent dame.
LOBKYN: Why, Fool, in faith she wrought so well
With direful curse and blasting spell
That every howling soldier-knave,
Every rogue and base-born slave
That by chance I did not slay,
From my grand-dam ran away.
JOCELYN: A noble Witch! Now, Lobkyn, tell
What hap'd when in the fight I fell,
And how alive I chance to be.
LOBKYN: Fool, I was there to succour thee.
I smote those pike-men hip and thigh,
That they did mangled pike-men lie;
Their arms, their legs, their skulls I broke,
Two, three, and four at every stroke.
I drave them here, I smote them there,
I smote, I slew, I none did spare,
I laughed, I sang, I—
“Ha, Lob!” growled a sleepy voice. “Now, as I'm a tanner, here's a-many I's! By Saint Crispin, meseemeth thou'rt all I's—for as thou fought I fought, or thought I fought, forsooth!”
LOBKYN: True, Will, did'st fight in goodly manner,
Though fightedst, Will, like any tanner;
But I did fight, or I'm forsworn,
Like one unto the manner born.
I fought, forsooth, with such good will,
'Tis marvel I'm not fighting still.
And so I should be, by my fay,
An I had any left to slay;
But since I slew them all—
“Hold there!” cried the Tanner. “I slew one or two, Lob, and Robin likewise. Thou'rt a lusty fighter, but what o' me and Robin—ha, what o' we?”
LOBKYN: In faith, ye're proper men and tall,
And I'm squat man, my stature small,
Nath'less, though small and squat I be,
I am the best man of the three.
“Why, as to that,” quoth the Tanner, “'tis but you says so! As to me I think what I will, and I do think—”
But here Lobkyn started up and seized the great club; quoth he: