"I have slight matters that require my presence at the hall. Does the
knight go much abroad, or keeps he close house?"
"Why, look ye, it is some three months or so since I smelt the fat from
her ladyship's kitchen. Dan Hardseg smutted my face, and rubbed a
platterful of barley-dough into my poll, the last peep I had through the
buttery. I'll bide about my own hearth-flag whilst that limb o' the old
spit is chief servitor. I do bethink me though, it is long sin' Sir
Osmund was seen i' the borough. Belike he may have come at the knowledge
of my misadventure, and careth not to meet the wrath of a patient man."
Here the malicious dame burst into a giddy laugh.
"Thee! why Sir Osmund knoweth not thy crop from thy crupper, nor careth
he if thy whole carcase were crammed into the dumpling-bag. I'feck, it
were a rare pastime to see Sir Osmund, the brave Welsh knight, give the
gutter to Giles of the Merry Maypole."
Giles was speechless with dismay at this aggravating insult; but the
dame continued:--
"I think, good stranger, the knight does keep house of late. Grim told
me that last week he was a-sporting once only by way of the higher park;
and he appears something more soured and moody than usual.
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