He takis the knichtis in to field Enarmit under helm and scheild; Victor he is at all mellie:— _Timor Mortis conturbat me_. That strong unmerciful tyrand Takis, on the motheris breast sowkand, The babe full of benignitie:— _Timor Mortis conturbat me_. He takis the campion in the stour, The captain closit in the tour, The lady in bour full of bewtie:— _Timor Mortis conturbat me_. He spairis no lord for his piscence, Na clerk for his intelligence; His awful straik may no man flee:— _Timor Mortis conturbat me_. Art-magicianis and astrologis, Rethoris, logicianis, theologis, Them helpis no conclusionis slee:— _Timor Mortis conturbat me_. In medecine the most practicianis, Leechis, surrigianis, and physicianis, Themself from Death may nocht supplee:— _Timor Mortis conturbat me_. When the Red Foliot had spoken thus far his dirge, he was interrupted by an unseemly brawling betwixt Corinius and one of the sons of Corund. For Corinius, who gave not a fig for music or dirges, but liked well of carding and dicing, had brought forth his dice box to play with the son of Corund. They played awhile to Corinius’s great content, for at every throw he won and the other’s purse waxed light. But at this eleventh stanza the son of Corund cried out that the dice of Corinius were loaded. And he smote Corinius on his shaven jowl with the dice box, calling him cheat and mangy rascal, whereupon Corinius drew forth a bodkin to smite him in the neck withal; but some went betwixt them, and with much ado and much struggling and cursing they were parted, and it being shown that the dice were not loaded, the son of Corund was fain to make amends to Corinius, and so were they set at one again. Now was the wine poured forth yet again to the lords of Witchland, and the Red Foliot drank deep unto the glory of that land and the rulers thereof. And he issued command saying, “Let my Kagu come and dance before us, and thereafter my other dancers. For there is no pleasure whereon the Foliots do more dearly dote than this pleasure of the dance, and sweet to us it is to behold delightful dancing, be it the stately splendour of the Pavane which progresseth as large clouds at sun-down that pass by in splendour; or the graceful Allemande; or the Fandango, which goeth by degrees from languorous beauty to the swiftness and passion of Bacchanals dancing on the high lawns under a summer moon that hangeth in the pine trees; or the joyous maze of the Galliard; or the Gigue, dear to the Foliots. Therefore delay not, but let my Kagu come, that she may dance before us.”