to
Frideswide's, thence to the East Gate, near Saint Clement's Chapel,
and he was making his way back with difficulty along the High
Street when he heard an awful confusion and uproar about the
"Quatre Voies" (Carfax) Conduit.

"Down with the lubberly North men!"

"Split their skulls, though they be like those of the bullocks
their sires drive!"

"Down with the moss troopers!"

"Boves boreales!"

And answering cries:

"Down with the lisping, smooth-tongued Southerners!"

"Australes asini!"

"Eheu!"

"Slay me every one with a burr in his mouth." (An allusion to the
Northumbrian accent.)

"Down with the mincing fools who have got no r.r.r's"

"Burrrrn them, you should say."

"Frangite capita."

"Percutite porcos boreales."

"Vim inferre australibus asinis."

"Sternite omnes Gallos."

So they shouted imprecations in Latin and English, and eke in
French, for there were many Gauls about.

What chance of getting through the fighting, drunken, riotous mobs?
Quarterstaves were rising and falling upon heads and shoulders. No
deadlier weapons were used, but showers of missiles from time to
time descended, unsavoury or otherwise.

At length the superior force of the Northern men prevailed, and
Martin, whose blood was strangely stirred, saw a slim and delicate
youth fighting so bravely with a huge Northern ox ("bos borealis,"
he called him) that for a time he stayed the rush, until the whole
Southern line gave way and Martin, entangled with the rout, got
driven down Saint Mary's Lane, opposite the church of that name, an
earlier building on the site of the present University church.

At an angle of the street, where another lane entered in, the young
Southerner before mentioned turned to bay, and with three or four
more of his countryfolk kept the narrow way against scores of
pursuers.

Martin could not restrain himself any longer. He saw three or four
men pressed by dozens, and rushed with all the fire of his generous
and impetuous nature to their aid, in time to intercept a blow
aimed at the young leader:

Well could he brandish such weapons, and he stood side by side and
settled many a "bos borealis," or northern bullock, with as much
zest as ever a southern butcher. But at length his leader fell, and
Martin stood diverting the strokes aimed at his fallen companion,
who was stunned for the moment, until a rough hearty voice cried
out:

"Let them alone, they have had enough. 'Tis cowardly to fig