“Now, that is not ill sung,” said Wamba, who had thrown in a few of his own flourishes to help out the chorus. “But who, in the saint’s name, ever expected to have heard such a jolly chant come from a hermit’s cell at midnight?”
“Marry, that should I,” said Gurth, “for the jolly Clerk of Copmanhurst is a known man and kills half the deer that are stolen in this walk. Men say that the deer-keeper has complained of him and that he will be stripped of his [v]cowl and [v]cope altogether if he keep not better order.”
While they were thus speaking, Locksley’s loud and repeated knocks had at length disturbed the [v]anchorite and his guest, who was a knight of singularly powerful build and open, handsome face, and in black armor.
“By my beads,” said the hermit, “here come other guests. I would not for my cowl that they found us in this goodly exercise. All men have enemies, sir knight; and there be those malignant enough to construe the hospitable refreshment I have been offering to you, a weary traveler, into drinking and gluttony, vices alike alien to my profession and my disposition.”
“Base [v]calumniators!” replied the knight. “I would I had the chastising of them. Nevertheless, holy clerk, it is true that all have their enemies; and there be those in this very land whom I would rather speak to through the bars of my helmet than bare-faced.”
“Get thine iron pot on thy head, then, sir knight,” said the hermit, “while I remove these pewter flagons.”
He struck up a thundering [v]De profundis clamavi, under cover of which he removed the apparatus of their banquet, while the knight, laughing heartily and arming himself all the while, assisted his host with his voice from time to time as his mirth permitted.
“What devil’s [v]matins are you after at this hour?” demanded a voice from outside.
“Heaven forgive you, sir traveler!” said the hermit, whose own noise prevented him from recognizing accents which were tolerably familiar to him. “Wend on your way, in the name of God and Saint Dunstan, and disturb not the devotions of me and my holy brother.”
“Mad priest,” answered the voice from without; “open to Locksley!”