"Time?" asked he, "time for what? There is time for all in the forest.
Moreover, you have had time."
"Would you have me wed you, Falve?" she faltered.
"Why, I set no store by your church-music, myself," rejoined Falve.
"But I set great store by Holy Church. You would never dishonour me,
Falve?"
"My dear," said Falve, "you will have guessed by now that I am a lady's man. I am wax in their pretty hands—red wax or white wax. According as you squeeze me, my dear, you make me a Golias or a bishop, as you wish. You would have me a bishop, eh?"
"I do not understand, Falve."
"The husband of one wife, my lass, as the Scripture saith. Is that your fancy?"
"I would like to be a wife."
"Then a wife you shall be, my honey, though a friend or a bondmaid is equally good Scripture, to say nothing of simplicity. Now that being settled, and a bargain a bargain, let us seal."
She escaped with his tarnish on her hand; but he respected her promise, and troubled her no more by contact. Nevertheless she had to pay. His dwarfish propensity to wit led him the wildest lengths. The rogue began to sigh and gesture and slap his ribs. He affected the lover preposterously; he was over weary of his rough life, he would say; he must marry and settle down in the hut by the brook.