By a single spur no poorer shall be any man of your host.
Pitch the pavilions therefore, ye squires, on yonder lea.
Whatsoe’er from your store shall be missing shall be all made good by me.
Cast off the bit and bridle, and let the steeds range wide.”
Never had men such welcome from any host beside!
Glad were the guests when they heard it. So then when his bidding was done,
And the lords rode thence to the castle, the squires all one after one
Stretched them at ease on the greensward. Sweet rest at last had they:
Nought like it before nor after found they in all the way.
To the front of the castle-gateway did the noble Margravine haste