in rhyme and in roundelay;
She bade him go bask by his sea-coal fire,
For she was the widow would say him nay.

Wamba.

The next that came forth, swore by blood and by nails,
Merrily sing the roundelay;
Hur's a gentleman, God wot, and hur's lineage was of Wales,
And where was the widow might say him nay?

Sir David ap Morgan ap Griffith ap Hugh
Ap Tudor ap Rhice, quoth his roundelay
She said that one widow for so many was too few,
And she bade the Welshman wend his way.

But then next came a yeoman, a yeoman of Kent,
Jollily singing his roundelay;
He spoke to the widow of living and rent,
And where was the widow could say him nay?

Both.

So the knight and the squire were both left in the mire,
There for to sing their roundelay;
For a yeoman of Kent, with his yearly rent,
There never was a widow could say him nay.

"I would, Wamba," said the knight, "that our host of the Trysting-tree,
or the jolly Friar, his chaplain, heard this thy ditty in praise of our
bluff yeoman."

"So would not I," said Wamba--"but for the horn that hangs at your
baldric."

"Ay," said the Knight,--"this is a pledge of Locksley's goodwill, though
I am not like to need it. Three mots on this bugle will, I am assured,
bring round, at our need, a jolly band of yonder honest yeomen."

"I would say, Heaven forefend," said the Jester, "were it not that that
fair gift is a pledge they would let us pass peaceably."

"Why, what meanest thou?" said the Knight; "thinkest thou that but for
this pledge of fellowship they would assault us?"

"Nay, for me I say nothing," said Wamba; "for green trees have ears as
well as stone walls. But canst thou construe me this, Sir Knight--When
is thy wine-pitcher and thy purse better empty than full?"

"Why, never, I think," replied the Knight.

"Thou never deservest to have a full one in thy hand, for so simple an
answer! Thou hadst best empty thy pitcher ere thou pass it to a Saxon,
and leave thy money at home ere thou walk in the greenwood."

"You hold our friends for robbers, then?" said the Knight of the
Fetterlock.

"You hear me not say so, fair sir," said Wamba; "it may relieve a man's
steed to take of his mail when he hath a long journey to make; and,
certes, it may do good to the rider's soul to ease him of that which is
the root of evil; therefore will I give no hard names to those who do
such servi