Slow and light of foot Beltane climbed the narrow stair that led up to one of the two square towers that flanked the main gate, but, being come thither, he paused to behold Giles, who chancing to be captain of the watch, sat upon a pile of great stones beside a powerful mangonel or catapult and stared him dolefully upon the lightening east: full oft sighed he, and therewith shook despondent head and even thus fell he to soft and doleful singing, groaning to himself 'twixt each verse, on this wise: "She will not heed her lover's moan, His mopèd tear, his deep-fetched groan, So doth he sit, and here alone Sing willow!
("With three curses on this foul mist!) "The little fishes fishes woo, Birds blithe on bough do bill and coo, But lonely I, with sad ado Sing willow!"
("And may Saint Anthony's fire consume Bernard, the merchant's round, plump son!) "'Tis sure a maid was made for man, 'Twas e'en so since the world began, Yet doleful here, I only can Sing willow!"
("And may the blessed saints have an eye upon her tender slumbers!") Here Giles paused to sigh amain, to fold his arms, to cross his legs, to frown and shake gloomy head; having done the which, he took breath and sang again as followeth:-"Alack-a-day, alas and woe! Would that Genevra fair might know 'Tis for her love Giles of the Bow Sings willow!"
But now, chancing to turn and espy Beltane, Giles fell suddenly abashed, his comely face grew ruddy 'neath its tan and he sprang very nimbly to his feet: "Ha, tall brother--good brother," he stammered, "noble lord, God den to ye--hail and good morrow! Verily and in faith, by Saint Giles (my patron saint, brother) I do rejoice to see thee abroad again, as will our surly Rogerkin that doth gloom and glower for thee and hath hung about thy chamber door morn and noon and night, and our noble Sir Benedict and Walkyn--but none more unfeignedly than Giles that doth grow glad because of thee--"
"That is well," quoth Beltane, seating himself upon the battlement, "for verily thy song was vastly doleful, Giles!"
"My song, lord, my song? Ha--hum! O verily, my song is a foolish song or the song of a fool, for fool am I, forsooth--a love-lorn fool; a doleful fool, a very fool of fools, that in my foolish folly hath set his foolish heart on thing beyond reach of such base fool as I. In a word, tall brother, I'm a fool, videlicet--a lover!"
"Truly, hast the speech and outward seeming of your approved lover, Giles," nodded Beltane.