‘But I would tell thee,’ said the little brother, ‘of a strange thing, and one to set thee full of laughter.’
‘Nay,’ quoth the Black Earl, ‘of that I have no desire, lest thou place upon my head a cap and bells, and call me fool Roderick.’
‘And wherefore,’ said the little brother, ‘shouldst thou laugh at fool Roderick?’
‘Because,’ quoth the Black Earl, ‘he hath found a strange jewel when he hath lost it.’
‘Thy words I do not understand,’ saith the little brother. ‘What was the strange jewel that he hath and yet hath not?’
‘Love,’ quoth the Black Earl.
‘That neither do I understand,’ saith the little brother, ‘but now thou must listen to my story.’
And of what he saith shall I sing, for his voice was sweeter than prose:
‘Oh, brother, brother, come up to the lake waters gray,
Come up to the shore where I play;
