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The Well at the World's End: a tale by William Morris
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or selling, or prevailing over the hearts of men in any wise.
But as for its wherabouts, ye shall not find it in these parts.
Men say that it is beyond the Dry Tree; and that is afar, God wot!
But now, lord Ralph, I rede thee go back again this evening with Andrew,
my nephew, for company: forsooth, he will do little less gainful
than riding with thee to Upmeads than if he abide in Wulstead;
for he is idle. But, my lord, take it not amiss that I spake
about the mayor and the tipstaves; for it was but a jest, as thou
mayest well wot."

Ralph's face cleared at that word, and he stood smiling,
weighing the chaplet in his hand; but Dame Katherine said:

"Dear gossip, do it on speedily; for it is a gift from me unto thee:
and from a gossip even king's sons may take a gift."

Quoth Ralph: "But is it lawful to wear it? is there no wizardry within it?"

"Hearken to him!" she said, "and how like unto a man he speaketh;
if there were a brawl in the street, he would strike in and
ask no word thereof, not even which were the better side:
whereas here is my falcon-chick frighted at a little gold box
and a pair of Saracen beads."

"Well," quoth Ralph, "the first holy man I meet shall bless them for me."

"That shall he not," said the dame, "that shall he not.
Who wotteth what shall betide to thee or me if he do so?
Come, do them on, and then to table! For seest thou not that
the goodman is wearying for meat? and even thine eyes will shine
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