And so he flew into a woundy passion, and threatened to horsewhip me.

thou art indeed thyself againthat same sweet and gentle youth that smote me on my knavish mazzard with thy stout quarter-staff in Shevening Thicket in the matter of Beda, Red Pertolepe's foola dour ding, yon, masterforsooth, a woundy rap!" Now fell they to thoughtful silence again, but oft Black Roger's stride waxed uneven, and oft he stumbled in his going, wherefore Beltane slackened his pace.