GARCERAN. If I am here? Why, he commanded--friend! You were to see were I, perhaps, upstairs? Just tell him that the girl is in the house, And I outside. That answer will suffice. PAGE. The King himself! GARCERAN. Your majesty! [_The_ KING _comes wrapped in a cloak. Exit PAGE._] KING. Well, friend! Still here? GARCERAN. Why, did you not yourself command That only with the evening's first approach-- KING. Yes, yes, but now on second thought it seems Far better that you travel while 'tis day-- They say thou'rt brave. GARCERAN. So you believe, O Sire-- KING. Methinks thou honorest the royal word Which would unharmèd know what it protects. But custom is the master of mankind; Our wills will often only what they must. And so, depart. But tell me, what doth she? GARCERAN. At first, there was a weeping without end, But time brings comfort, as the saying is; And so 'twas here. Soon cheerfulness, yea jest, Had banished all her former abject fear; Then there was pleasure in the shining toys, And wonder at the satin tapestries. We measured every curtained stuff by yards, Till now we've settled down and feel at home. KING. And does she seem desirous to return? GARCERAN. It sometimes seems she does, and then does not. A shallow mind ne'er worries for the morrow. KING. Of course thou didst not hesitate to throw To her the bait of words, as is thy wont? How did she take it, pray? GARCERAN. Not badly, Sire. KING. Thou liest! But in truth thou'rt lucky, boy! And hover'st like a bird in cheerful skies, And swoopest down wherever berries lure, And canst adjust thyself at the first glance. I am a King; my very word brings fear. Yet I, were I the first time in my life To stand in woman's presence, fear should know! How dost begin? Pray, teach me what to do; I am a novice in such arts as these, And nothing better than a grown-up child. Dost sigh? GARCERAN. Oh, Sire, how sadly out of date!