king, at three score years, and my
Lord Chandos at three-score and ten, are blithe and ready to lay lance
in rest for England's cause, it would ill be-seem me to prate of service
done. It is sooth that I have received seven and twenty wounds. There is
the more reason that I should be thankful that I am still long of breath
and sound in limb. I have also seen some bickering and scuffling. Six
great land battles I count, with four upon sea, and seven and fifty
onfalls, skirmishes and bushments. I have held two and twenty towns,
and I have been at the intaking of thirty-one. Surely then it would
be bitter shame to me, and also to you, since my fame is yours, that I
should now hold back if a man's work is to be done. Besides, bethink
you how low is our purse, with bailiff and reeve ever croaking of empty
farms and wasting lands. Were it not for this constableship which the
Earl of Salisbury hath bestowed upon us we could scarce uphold the state
which is fitting to our degree. Therefore, my sweeting, there is the
more need that I should turn to where there is good pay to be earned and
brave ransoms to be won."

"Ah, my dear lord," quoth she, with sad, weary eyes. "I thought that at
last I had you to mine own self, even though your youth had been spent
afar from my side. Yet my voice, as I know well, should speed you on to
glory and renown, not hold you back when fame is to be won. Yet what can
I say, for all men know that your valor needs the curb and not the
spur. It goes to my heart that you should ride forth now a mere knight
bachelor, when there is no noble in the land who hath so good a claim to
the square pennon, save only that you have not the money to uphold it."

"And whose fault that, my sweet bird?" said he.

"No fault, my fair lord, but a virtue: for how many rich ransoms have
you won, and yet have scattered the crowns among page and archer and
varlet, until in a week you had not as much as would buy food and
forage. It is a most knightly largesse, and yet withouten money how can
man rise?"

"Dirt and dross!" cried he.

"What matter rise or fall, so that duty be done and honor gained.
Banneret or bachelor, square pennon or forked, I would not give a denier
for the difference, and the less since Sir John Chandos, chosen flower
of English chivalry, is himself but a humble knight. But meanwhile fret
not thyself, my heart's dove, for it is like that there may be no war
waged, and we must await the news. But her