the brim, and saw how the monk drew from his frock a pair of beads,
as like to Dame Katherine's gift as one pea to another,
save that at the end thereof was a little box shapen crosswise.
Ralph emptied the bowl hastily, got out of bed, and sat on
the bed naked, save that on his neck was Dame Katherine's gift.
He reached out his hand and took the beads from the monk and reddened
therewith, as was his wont when he had to begin a contest in words:
but he said:

"I thank thee, father; yet God wot if these beads will lie
sweetly alongside the collar which I bear on my neck as now,
which is the gift of a dear friend."

The monk made up a solemn countenance and said:
"Thou sayest sooth, my son; it is most like that my chaplet,
which hath been blessed time was by the holy Richard,
is no meet fellow for the gift of some light love of thine:
or even," quoth he, noting Ralph's flush deepen, and his brow knit,
"or even if it were the gift of a well-willer, yet belike it
is a worldly gift; therefore, since thy journey is with peril,
thou wert best do it off and let me keep it for thee till
thou comest again."

Now as he spake he looked anxiously, nay, it may be said greedily,
at the young man. But Ralph said nought; for in his heart he was determined
not to chaffer away his gossip's gift for any shaveling's token.
Yet he knew not how to set his youthful words against the father's wisdom;
so he stood up, and got his shirt into his hand, and as he did it over
his head he fell to singing to himself a song of eventide of the High
House of Upmeads, the words whereof were somewhat like to these: