"O pardon me,
stranger
knight," said he very politely.
Tennyson
" the old fellow said gruffly.
So the prince rode his horse yet a little farther until he saw an
armor-maker's shop. The armor-maker sat inside with his back turned, all
doubled over a helmet which he was riveting together upon his knee.
"Armorer," cried Geraint, "what is going on? Why is there such a din? "
The man did not pause in his riveting even to turn about and face the
stranger, but said quickly as if to finish speaking as rapidly as he
could, "Friend, the people who are working for the sparrow-hawk have no
time for idle questions. "
At this Geraint flashed up angrily.
"A fig for your sparrow-hawk! I wish all the bits of birds of the air
would peck him dead. You imagine that this little cackle in your baby
town is all the noise and murmur of the great world. What do I care
about it? It is nothing to me. Listen to me, now, if you are not gone
hawk-mad like the rest, where can I get a lodging for the night, and
more than that, where can I get some arms, arms, arms, to fight my
enemy? Tell me. "
The hurrying armor-maker looked about in amazement to see this gorgeous
cavalier in purple silks standing before his bit of a shop.
"O pardon me, stranger knight," said he very politely. "We are holding a
great tournament here tomorrow morning and there is hardly any time to
do one-half the work that has to be finished before then. Arms, did you
say? Indeed I cannot tell you where to get any; all that there are in
this town are needed for to-morrow in the lists. And as for lodging, I
don't know unless perhaps at Earl Yniol's in the old castle across the
bridge. " Then he again picked up his helmet and turned his back to the
prince.
So Geraint, still a wee mite vexed, rode over the bridge that spanned
the ravine, to go to the ruined castle. There upon the farther side sat
the hoary-headed Earl Yniol, dressed in some magnificent shabby old
clothes which had been fit for a king's parties when they were new.
"Where are you going, son? " he queried of Geraint, waking from his
reveries and dreaminess.
"O friend, I'm looking for some shelter for the night," Geraint replied.
"Come in then," Yniol said, "and accept of my hospitality. Our house was
rich once and now it is poor, but it always keeps its door open to the
stranger. "
"Oh, anything will do for me," cried Geraint. "If only you won't serve
me sparrow-hawks for my supper I'll eat with all the passion of a whole
day's fast. "
The old earl smiled and sighed as he rejoined, "I have more serious
reason than you to curse this sparrow-hawk.
So the prince rode his horse yet a little farther until he saw an
armor-maker's shop. The armor-maker sat inside with his back turned, all
doubled over a helmet which he was riveting together upon his knee.
"Armorer," cried Geraint, "what is going on? Why is there such a din? "
The man did not pause in his riveting even to turn about and face the
stranger, but said quickly as if to finish speaking as rapidly as he
could, "Friend, the people who are working for the sparrow-hawk have no
time for idle questions. "
At this Geraint flashed up angrily.
"A fig for your sparrow-hawk! I wish all the bits of birds of the air
would peck him dead. You imagine that this little cackle in your baby
town is all the noise and murmur of the great world. What do I care
about it? It is nothing to me. Listen to me, now, if you are not gone
hawk-mad like the rest, where can I get a lodging for the night, and
more than that, where can I get some arms, arms, arms, to fight my
enemy? Tell me. "
The hurrying armor-maker looked about in amazement to see this gorgeous
cavalier in purple silks standing before his bit of a shop.
"O pardon me, stranger knight," said he very politely. "We are holding a
great tournament here tomorrow morning and there is hardly any time to
do one-half the work that has to be finished before then. Arms, did you
say? Indeed I cannot tell you where to get any; all that there are in
this town are needed for to-morrow in the lists. And as for lodging, I
don't know unless perhaps at Earl Yniol's in the old castle across the
bridge. " Then he again picked up his helmet and turned his back to the
prince.
So Geraint, still a wee mite vexed, rode over the bridge that spanned
the ravine, to go to the ruined castle. There upon the farther side sat
the hoary-headed Earl Yniol, dressed in some magnificent shabby old
clothes which had been fit for a king's parties when they were new.
"Where are you going, son? " he queried of Geraint, waking from his
reveries and dreaminess.
"O friend, I'm looking for some shelter for the night," Geraint replied.
"Come in then," Yniol said, "and accept of my hospitality. Our house was
rich once and now it is poor, but it always keeps its door open to the
stranger. "
"Oh, anything will do for me," cried Geraint. "If only you won't serve
me sparrow-hawks for my supper I'll eat with all the passion of a whole
day's fast. "
The old earl smiled and sighed as he rejoined, "I have more serious
reason than you to curse this sparrow-hawk.
