XIII
“Nay, in faith,” said the fell man, “no fight do I challenge; The boys on this bench are but beardless children. Were I haspèd in arms on a hígh stèed. No man here could match me, their might is too feeble. Wherefore I crave in this court but a Christmas game, For ’tis Yule and New Year, and youth ye have here: If any in this house so hardy him hold, Be so bold in his blood, and of brain so wild, As stiffly to strike one stroke for another, I give him for gift this gísarm noble, This axe so heavy, to handle as he likes, And I bide the first blow, as bare as I sit. If any be so true as to test what I tell ye, Let him leap to me lightly, I lend him this weapon (He may keep it his own, I quit-claim it for ever) To stand him a stroke full stoutly on floor; And I bargain for naught but a blow in return, barlay: Yet give I him respite, A twelvemonth and a day; Now haste! Will any wight Herein dare ought to say?”