nature of this pact is related in the following
verse, to which Field prefixed this note: "While this poem is printed
in all the 'Reliques of Ye Good Knights' Poetrie,' and while the
incident it narrates is thoroughly characteristic of that Knightly
Sage, the versification is so different from that of the other ballads
that there is little doubt that this fragment is spurious. Prof. Max
Beeswanger (Book III., page 18, old English Poetry) says that these
verses were written by Friar Terence, a learned monk of the Good
Knight's time."
_THE GOOD KNIGHT TO SIR SLOSSON
The night was warm as summer
And the wold was wet with dew,
And the moon rose fair,
And the autumn air
From the flowery prairies blew;
You took my arm, ol' Nompy,
And measured the lonely street,
And you said, "Let's walk
In the gloom and talk--
'Tis too pleasant to-night to eat!"
And you quoth: "Old Field supposin'
Hereafter we two agree;
If it's fair when we're through
I'm to walk with you--
If it's foul you're to eat with me!"
Then I clasped your hand, ol' Nompy,
And I said: "Well, be it so."
The night was so fine
I didn't opine
It could ever rain or snow!
But the change came on next morning
When the fickle mercury fell,
And since, that night
That was warm and bright
It's snowed or it's rained like--well.
Have you drawn your wages, Nompy?
Have you reckoned your pounds and pence?
Harsh blows the wind,
And I feel inclined
To banquet at your expense!_
The "Friar Terence" of Field's note was the Edward J. McPhelim to
whom reference has already been made, who often joined us in our
after-theatre symposiums, but could not be induced to walk one block
if there was a street-car going his way.
As bearing on the nature of these "banquets," and the unending source
of enjoyment they were to both of us, the following may throw a
passing light:
_Discussing great and sumptuous cheer
At Boyle's one midnight dark and drear
Two gentle warriors sate;
Out spake old Field: "In sooth I reck
We bide too long this night on deck--
What, ho there, varlet, bring the check!
Egad, it groweth late!"
Then out spake Thompson flaming hot:
"Now, by my faith, I fancy not,
Old Field, this ribald jest;
Though you are wondrous fair and free
With riches that accrue to thee,
The check to-nig
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