"Truly, that is not for laymen to judge of," answered Morten. "I know neither the white nor the black art; but _this_ I know, henceforth let there be ever such a stir below there, _I_ budge not from my seat. When we keep our noses out of mischief, and strive to mind our duty, we shall be left in peace, and can sit here as quiet as though we lay in Abraham's bosom. Now drink, Niels! And thou, Joergen, what art _thou_ thinking of?" said he to the man with the dice. "I warrant thou wouldst rather kill the time in gaming, than in honest and innocent drink. Now, by our Lady! every man hath his crotchets in this world, but we must ever sing with the birds we live with. First, comrade, sing and drink with us, and we will play afterwards with thee. We have bright silver pieces in plenty." So saying, the merry cook threw a handful of silver money on the table, and began to sing a joyous drinking song. Joergen looked covetingly at the silver, and shook the dice. "Come, good Morten, let's play first," said he, in a coaxing tone, and with a crafty smile, "and we can sing and drink afterwards." "Darest thou throw for a silver piece?" "For twenty, if thou wilt," answered Morten; "but I snap my fingers at dice and silver pieces, as long as I can get aught to moisten my tongue; it is the most important member in the world, seest thou, and well deserves to be cherished. That little instrument can turn whole kingdoms topsy-turvy. I am already half drunk, I perceive, and thou hast not lifted the cup to thy lips as yet. The man who games with me must be as jovial a soul as myself." "Well, then, pour me out half a can of ale, if it be not too strong," said the cautious Joergen. "Mead instantly gets into my head: when one would play a fair game, one should always be able to count to six; besides, we are not sent here to drink ourselves drunk, I trow." "Just as much to drink as to game," answered Morten; "but leave that to me! I know the strength of the ale well, and what four fellows can stand, provided they be not carlines."[6] The turnkeys drank, and Morten replenished their cups.--"Know ye the news, comrades?" he continued, raising his voice, as he seated himself at his ease, with his arms resting on the table; "we may presently expect the king here at the castle; then will there be no lack of drink. Money, and mead, and wine, and Saxon ale, will flow here, as in blessed Paradise." "The king!" said Niels the horseman; "then of a surety will there be fine doings here; he will, by my troth! give the huntsman something to do." "You will see, then, the bishop will get loose," said Joergen the turnkey, rolling the dice as he spoke, "for he is surely not so mad as to put the king in a rage again, as he did the last time." "_He_ cares not for the King's wrath," answered the cook; "that fellow minds neither king nor emperor; and if it be true that the pope in Rome sides with him, the king may go to the wall at last."