At the impious jest the holy man made a grimace of rage, remembering only recently he had actually officiated as cook, but not in paradise--it was in Vagrery. He filled his cup and drained it at one draught, looking askance at the royal favorite. "Come, Count Neroweg," said Spatachair, "there is mercy for every sin; some other day you will treat us to a choicer feast--and you will promise your wife to preside at the banquet." "And by the faith of the Lion of Poitiers, I promise not to chuckle her under the chin too freely." "When you give that banquet, Neroweg," added Imnachair, despite the glances of Chram to check the insolence of his favorites, "when you give us that banquet, you will not make us eat and drink, as you do to-day, out of copper and tin vessels, while you spread out before our dazzled eyes your gold and silver utensils in the center of the table--far from our reach. It almost looks, you vainglorious rustic, as if you took us for thieves." "Neroweg offers his hospitality in the way that suits him," put in Sigefrid, the count's leude, in a tone of muffled anger; "those who eat the meat and drink the wine of this house have no right to complain of the dishes--if these don't suit them, let them go and fill up elsewhere." "Are we, the King's men, to be chaffed for what we eat and drink at this burg?" "That would be the height of impudence! As to me, I was surfeited before I touched a mouthful of these mountains of cold provisions." "Moreover, it is an insult," cried another of the guests. "We members of the royal bodyguard will brook no insult." "Do you think yourselves above us, because we are leudes of a count? If you do, we may measure the distance between us, by measuring the length of our swords." "It is not swords, but hearts that we should measure." "Do you pretend to say that we, the faithful men of Neroweg, have smaller hearts than you?" "A challenge let it be, thick-headed rustics!" "The thick-headed rustic is more than a match for the effeminate court soldier. And you will find it out on the spot if you dare put your hands to your swords." "Six against six, or more, if you prefer." "Nothing will suit us better than to cross swords with you." The altercation between the half tipsy Franks had started at one end of the table; at first it was conducted in a low voice, but it soon reached such a pitch of loudness and exasperation that Chram, the bishop and the count hastened to interpose and restore peace among the table companions. It was with an ill grace and exchanging wild looks of hatred that the intoxicated leudes subsided. Karadeucq and his bear, both preceded by the steward, had reached the threshold of the banquet hall when the disturbance between the leudes was silenced. The steward approached his master and said: "Seigneur, the mountebank with his bear and monkey are ready." "What, count, have you bears in this place?"