These oaths having been recited, a page of the Bishop’s brought a feretory that had lain on the coffin of St. Cuthbert, and a Percy page a testament; the esquire laid his right hand first on one and then on the other, being still on his knees, and then held up his hand whilst the page recited that that good esquire vowed faithfully all these things. Then the Bishop drew his sword and touched the steel left shoulder of the esquire with the hilt that had the form of the cross, this being the symbol that he would be a good knight and soldier of Christ and Our Lady. Then all the people cheered and cried out and the Bishop said loudly— "Surge et vocabitur in nomine Dei et Regis nostri Sir Paris Lovell Castelli." The Percy laughed and asked what those words were, and when the Prince Bishop had told him, still laughing, he smote the metal in the same place with the flat of his sword and mocked the Bishop with the words— "Stand up in the name of God. And in the King’s name be called henceforth, Sir Paris Lovell of the Castle." To name her son Paris had been a whimsy of the Lady Rohtraut since Paris of Troy was a goodly knight, and also it stood for a symbol that he might retake Paris Town if the English had it not at the time when he was a man, and so that name had pleased the great Talbot which was a good thing at the time of his birth. Then the good knight stood up upon his long feet and the Percy cried out that they should get the business of the betrothal over with speed, and so they did, the knight and the Lady Margaret who came out, kneeling on black cushions before the Prince Bishop. She was wearing a great and long green gown, to the making of which there had gone twenty-six yards of patterned damask from the city of Bruges. It was worked with leaves and birds and pomegranates, so that it was very rich in folds. Her ribbons in her shirt were of scarlet silk and her fur edgings of the red fox. Her hood was of white and red velvet, the gables at the front being of silver set with large pearls, and her hair fell in two black plaits to her heels where she knelt. So when the Bishop had recited their oaths they stood up and the knight pushed up his visor and looked at the lady. Those few that could see his face cried out as if they had seen a ship strike on a rock, so they raised their hands. The others only marked that haughty lady shrink back upon her feet, with a great flowing of her garments as she drew them together towards her. She cried out some words of detestation that no man heard but he, and then with her fist she struck him in the face. Then he turned upon the high table, grinning and unashamed, the dark eyebrows that seemed to have been painted in with tar, the red cheeks and the lascivious lips of Decies of the South. All those at the high table stood up on their feet, lifting their hands above their heads and crying out. The Decies cried towards his father, lifting also his mailed arm to heaven—