I set him down at that.
“If that be so,” said I, “you are not the cur I took you for; for I had no business to be nodding. Stay here, and I will fetch you a sword, and you shall die like an Englishman.”
“I ask nothing better,” said he, “even if it be at the hands of an Englishman turned traitor.”
That took the spirit clean out of me. Was it not true? Was not this fellow a truer servant of her Majesty than I, who for months had done naught but break her laws, assault her mayors, fire on her flag, and slay her soldiers? Yet, how could I help it?
The fellow’s gibe made me so miserable that instead of fetching him a sword, I gave him mine, and bade him do to me as I deserved.
He laughed.
“By my soul, no!” said he. “If you be a servant of her Majesty, ’tis not for me to touch you. If you be not, the sword belongs to you, and I call it no shame to die by it. Yet, if you are minded to fetch me a weapon, I warrant you I shall not run away till you come again.”
So I went and fetched him a sword. And we fought there a half-hour by the clock, till our breath failed us, and never a blow could we get home on one another. I had no stomach for the business; and yet, when I found him so stubborn a swordsman, my blood got up, and I think I should have run him through if I could. But he had no mind to let me, and put me to it hard to keep my own skin whole.
So we halted to fetch breath, and before we could go to it again, the maiden came out of her lodging and stood betwixt us.
“Put by your swords,” said she, “I command you both. What is your quarrel? and have you no work for your captain, that you thus bring civil war into his castle?”