the only means of liberating the prisoners now in the hands of the cruel Front-de-Bœuf.
"The royal blood of Alfred is endangered," said Cedric.
"The honour of a noble lady is in peril," said the Black Knight.
"And, by the Saint Christopher at my baldric," said the good yeoman, "were there no other cause than the safety of that poor faithful knave, Wamba, I would jeopard a joint ere a hair of his head were hurt."
"And so would I," said the Friar; "what, sirs! I trust well that a fool—I mean, d'ye see me, sirs, a fool that is free of his guild and master of his craft, and can give as much relish and flavour to a cup of wine as ever a flitch of bacon can—I say, brethren, such a fool shall never want a wise clerk to pray for or fight for him at a strait, while I can say a mass or flourish a partizan."
And with that he made his heavy halbert to play around his head as a shepherd boy flourishes his light crook.
"True, Holy Clerk," said the Black Knight;
