"Well, well, lass," said he, "dost thou think that here is Crecy field
toward, that ye bring all this artillery? Turn back, my girl, and set
the pot on the fire; for that shall we need when we come home, I and
this ballad-maker here."
"Nay," she said, nodding kindly at me, "if this is to be no Crecy,
then may I stop to see, as well as the ballad-maker, since he hath
neither sword nor staff?"
"Sweetling," he said, "get thee home in haste. This play is but
little, yet mightest thou be hurt in it; and trust me the time may
come, sweetheart, when even thou and such as thou shalt hold a sword
or a staff. Ere the moon throws a shadow we shall be back."
She turned away lingering, not without tears on her face, laid the
sheaf of arrows at the foot of the tree, and hastened off through the
orchard. I was going to say something, when Will Green held up his
hand as who would bid us hearken. The noise of the horse-hoofs, after
growing nearer and nearer, had ceased suddenly, and a confused murmur
of voices had taken the place of it.
"Get thee down, and take cover, old lad," said Will Green; "the dance
will soon begin, and ye shall hear the music presently.
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