"Aye, verily!" sighed Giles, "aye, verily--behold my beard, I have had no heart to trim it this sennight! Alack, I--I that was so point-de-vice am like to become a second Diogenes (a filthy fellow that never washed and lived in a foul tub!). As for food, I eat no more than the chameleon that doth fill its belly with air and nought else, foolish beast! I, that was wont to be a fair figure of a man do fall away to skin and bone, daily, hourly, minute by minute--behold this leg, tall brother!" And Giles thrust out a lusty, mailed limb. "Here was a leg once--a proper shapely leg to catch a woman's eye--see how it hath shrunk, nay, faith, 'tis hidden in mine armour! But verily, my shanks will soon be no thicker than my bowstave! Lastly I--I that loved company and good cheer do find therein abomination these days, so do I creep, like moulting fowl, brother, to corners dark and dismal and there make much ado--and such is love, O me!"
"Doth the maid know of thy love?"
"Nay lord, good lack, how should she?--who am I to speak of it? She is a fair lady and noble, a peerless virgin, while I--I am only Giles-- poor Giles o' the Bow, after all!"
"Truly, love is teaching thee wisdom, Giles," said Beltane, smiling.
"Indeed, my lord, my wisdom teacheth me this--that were I the proudest and noblest in the land yet should I be unworthy!" and Giles shook miserable head and sighed again full deep.
"Who is she, Giles?"
"She is Genevra, daughter to the Reeve! And the Reeve is a great man in Belsaye and gently born, alas! And with coffers full of good broad pieces. O would she were a beggar-maid, the poorest, the meanest, then might I woo her for mine own. As it is, I can but look and sigh--for speak me her I dare not--ha, and there is a plump fellow!" Here Giles clenched bronzed fist. "A round and buxom fellow he, a rich merchant's son doth woo her boldly, may speak with her, may touch her hand! So do I ofttimes keep him shooting at the butts by the hour together and therein do make me some small amend. Yet daily do I mope and pine, and pine and mope--O tall brother, a most accursed thing is this love--and dearer than my life, heigho!"
"Nay, pluck up thy heart, thou'rt a man, Giles."
"Aye, verily, but she is a maid, brother, therein lieth vasty difference, and therefore do I fear her for her very sweetness and purity--fear her? Faith, my knees do knock at sound of her voice, her very step doth set me direly a-tremble. For she is so fair--so pure and nigh the angels, that I--alack! I have ever been a something light fellow in matters of love--forget not I was bred a monk, noble brother! Thus, brother, a moping owl, I--a very curst fellow, gloomy and silent as the grave, saving my breath for sighs and groans and curses fell, wherefore I have builded me a 'mockery' above the wall and there-from do curse our foes, as only a churchman may, brother."