And yet I do not like this strange concealment.
(Employs himself in arranging different things, whilst he sings part of an old ballad.
SONG.
The watch-dog bays from the southern wall,
And hounds and spaniels repeat his call;
The warders in the court are speaking,
The merlins on their perch are shrieking.
The dame she started from her seat,
And her lover's heart did quickly beat.
"The wall is gain'd, the drawbridge crost,
Your lord is return'd, and we are lost."
"Nay, fy upon thy witless fear!
See, quickly don this woman's gear;
And boldly cross the crowded hall,
Mid serfs and grooms and spearmen all.
"They with glad greetings are, I trow,
Too busy by far to heed thee now;
Yet word or answer give to none,
But straight to the portal and swiftly be gone."
The dame put on her joyous face,
And she welcomed her lord with a hearty embrace.
Quoth she to herself, "Some warlike fray
Will call him forth another day."
A fray full soon hath call'd him forth,
And he is gone to the restless north;
But he—beshrew the wayward wight!
Returns again at the dead of night.
