And I would get away from it. Give me your help.
But why are not my pupils here to help me?
Go, call my pupils, for I need their help.
Fedelm.
Come with me now, and I will send for them,
For I have a great room that’s full of beds
I can make ready, and there is a smooth lawn
Where they can play at hurley and sing poems
Under an apple-tree.
Seanchan.