THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY
shoot wide of the mark. But about a month after the storm, as Sir Philip and Edith were talking in their accustomed manner, he pressing her to clear up his doubts, and she sadly and silently hanging down her head, her love for him prevailed, and she said at last, "Well then if it must be so, come to the back of our house tomorrow evening, at four o'clock, and wait by the door of the garden wall till I open to you. But if you die, your death will be of your own seeking, and my soul shall soon follow yours, for I am not able to live apart from you, my true knight. But if you will enter this perilous tourney, put on a surcoat of green, a green cap, and be prepared to lie closely and privily." With that she burst into tears and clung to her lover, weeping as if her heart was rent in twain. But Sir Philip was overjoyed at her words, and went to his comrade the lawyer, and told him that the Romance was getting into its last books. "And John," said he, "prepare choice skins, and cut your quills very aptly, for I will have my marriage deeds executed by you and by none else." At this the lawyer puckered up his mouth, and put his hand to his head, for musing, he conceived that rolls pertaining to other matters might have to be made out. But he willingly obtained for Sir Philip a green surcoat and cap of soft cloth; "She will make you hide among leaves," said he. "So I suppose" answered the knight, "and look you, I'll have my sword not very far from me, and if there be a burial, 'twill not be of a Meyrick of Caerwent." So, like a knight of færy, he went all in green,
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