Captain Fox and Captain Gander, Captain Bat and Captain Chanticleer,
Captain Rat and Captain Badger had thoroughly enjoyed their visit to
Athens. The first day of the tournament had come and gone and left
them very substantially the better in paunch and pocket. On this, the
second day, they hoped, and with reason, for still fairer fortune,
and severally, and as a corporation, made liberal vows of wax candles
to St. Nicholas if their hopes should come true. They moved at ease
through the assemblage outside the lists, clad in the disguises that
time had taught them to be best suited to each man's individuality.
Captain Fox, who had a persuasive tongue, went as a mendicant friar and
vended relics. Captain Gander, because he could sing a catch at random
with some volume of voice, jigged and whistled, minced and ambled as
a wandering minstrel. Captain Bat was a lame beggar, arm in sling,
patch on eye, a maimed hero, victim of wars, voluble of sorrows, and
eloquent in appeal. Captain Chanticleer skipped hither and thither as a
glib-lipped fortune-teller, and fumbled dirty pieces of wood that were
painted with pips and points and dots of mystical meanings. Captain Rat
and Captain Badger, who had each some skill in tumbling, clowned to
the crowd as itinerant mountebanks, and paraded alternately one on the
other's shoulders inviting the world to see wonders.
So dexterous were all these gentry in their assumed occupations that
their legitimate receipts represented a very fair proportion of the
day's earnings. Therefore, as Captain Fox pithily observed, they did
very well both as honest folk and as rogues. But while their hands
were busy in emptying the pouches of others to fill their own, their
eyes were not idle or indifferent to the pleasures which Duke Baldwin
provided for knave as well as for knight. Experience of camps had made
the gang of rascals acquainted with the bearings of many warlike lords,
and they were able to blazon with confidence to a gaping crowd about
them most of the coats displayed upon the shields that hung before the
pavilions in the lists.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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