“Much have we come through and it will go hard if we do not escape from this place.”
So he departed to the hall and lay among the rushes on the floor, where he slept soundly, many dangers having taught him to sleep when he might, that his strength should be husbanded. When the folk began to stir about the castle he arose, and, breakfasting with the soldiers, waited in the hall while they got ready a great feast, for that day the prince was to wed the strange lady and he and his friends were to make merry. So the hour of the feast drew nigh and the nobles entered and took their places at the board on either side the prince. On the right hand was Torfrida, dressed in a long white gown, about which in cunning wise was drawn a sash of gold. The veil which had half hidden her face yesterday had gone, and her fair hair with its shining depths of red and gold fell down over her shoulders in simple fashion. So lovely she looked, and so young and fresh and ruddy, that a murmur arose from the rough soldiers and serving men as she entered, and even the loose, low sots who sat round the board gazed upon her for a moment open-mouthed. And they ceased to wonder how it was that the strange maiden had been able to make their master put off the wedding, day by day. Feargus, who sat among the servants at the opposite end of the table, had been playing, but as she entered his hand had fallen, and he stopped to gaze with the rest. Seeing this the prince turned and said, “Why stoppest thou, minstrel? When I bid thee thou mayest stop.”
Then there entered a few other women, wives of the nobles, coarse and red-faced like their lords with much eating and drinking. By them Torfrida looked the fairer. The feast began, and thereafter the wine cup went round and Feargus played his merriest music that they might drink the more. Soon there was no man among them that had not taken more than enough and some grew noisy, and shouts and oaths filled the hall, while some lay asleeping with their heads on the board. And so mad was the music that many drank still, till at length the prince arose, his face flushed and hand unsteady, and cried, “A toast with me, my friends; I pledge the bonniest lady in Lothian!”
“Nay, now, sir prince, how shall they know that thy words be true unless thou tellest whose lady she is that thou dost pledge, for there may be some here who hold their own ladies the bonniest.”
“Thou hast over much to say for thyself, sir minstrel. I tell thee I will break the head of him who will refuse to drink this toast with me: the lady I speak of is mine.”
“Nay, then, prince, my head must thou break, for her I hold to be the fairest lady in this company is mine.”
“Ha, ha! what new foolery is this to please the company? Go on, minstrel, it must be something of great wit to warrant thy assurance. Here is an old coxcomb indeed, friends.” And the laugh went round. And Feargus sang this song, thinking to sober the company a little and hoping to escape without bloodshed:—
AH, YES, ’TWERE WELL!
I take my lyre—what should I sing
Of love who makes my soul her harp,