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Roby, John

"Traditions of Lancashire, Volume 1 (of 2)"

The lady uttered
a subdued shriek, whether from pain or surprise, it boots not now to
inquire; mayhap, it was the remembrance of the mailed hand she had felt
in her dream, and to which her fingers, yet tingling with the pressure,
bore a sufficient testimony. Sir John bent lowlier than before, with one
hand on his breast, in token of contrition. A thousand strange fancies,
shapeless and undefined, rushed by, as the maiden looked on the warrior.
It was the very crisis of her dream; her heart seemed as though it would
have leapt the walls of its tenement,--and she was fain to hide her face
under the folds of her mantle.
"Now, on my halidome," said the king, "there be two doves whose cooing
would be the better for a little honest speech. Poor hearts! it were a
pity their tongues had bewrayed their desire. Fitz-Walter, summon them
hither."
The blushing Isabella was conducted to the royal presence, where the
king was graciously pleased to impress a salute on her rich and glowing
cheek--no mean honour from so gracious and gallant a monarch, who,
though old, was yet accounted a mighty adept in the discernment of
female beauty, he never being known to suffer contact of the royal lip
with aught but the fairest and most comely of the sex.


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