Therewith he was gone and Osberne entered the town after his fellows,
and the Baron of Deepdale was brought to Sir Medard in the great
tower. There they would have served him with all honour, but he was
not yet come out of that trance; so they laid him to rest in Sir
Medard's own bed, and had warders both within the chamber and without;
and Osberne sat talking with Sir Medard in the said chamber till dawn
was, when the Baron awoke really and fairly, and called for drink. And
Sir Medard brought it unto him with his own hand, and the Baron stared
at him and said: "Art thou of the service tonight? I know thee not."
Quoth Sir Medard: "And yet we have been near enough together ere this,
Lord Baron; thou shouldst know me, meseems." The Baron looked hard on
him and then round about the chamber, and cried out: "Holy Mary! 't is
Medard the carle-leader. Where am I, and where is the evil beast of a
minstrel? Hath he beguiled me?" Said Medard: "Lord, at this present
thou art in a chamber of my poor house in Eastcheaping. Doubtless
tomorrow, after we have had some talk together, thou and I and the
Porte, thou mayst go back home to Deepdale, or abide here to see how
we can feast, we carle-warriors, and to be holden in all honour."
Now came forth Stephen the Eater and said: "Lord, lo here the evil
beast of a minstrel who hath verily beguiled thee; but, Baron, it is
to thy gain and not thy loss. For tomorrow shall the war be ended, and
thou shalt be free to go back again to the fair women of Deepdale whom
thou lovest so much, and shalt save they men-at-arms, and thy weapons
and tents and timber, and victuals and drink a great heap; and all
this I deem, and more maybe, wouldst thou have lost hadst thou gone on
sitting perversely before Eastcheaping all for nought. So I will not
say pardon me, but make friends with me rather for being good to me."
And therewith he reached out his great hand to the Baron; but Osberne
drew him back by the girdle, and chid him for mocking a captive, while
the Baron turned his face to the wall and covered up his head with the
bed-clothes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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