Said I, "We ha' come to a parting here
And I know not who you be."
But he only laughed as I smote on the door:
"Go, take ye the fighting chance;
Mayhap I once was a troubadour
In the knightly days of France.
Oh, the feast is set for those who dare
And the reddest o' wine outpoured;
And some sleep sound after peril and care
At the Hostelry of the Sword."