go to battle?'

'Boy, boy, thou wilt not belie thy Clifford blood,' cried the lady in
consternation, which was increased when he said, 'I have no mind to
go out and kill folks or be killed. I had rather mark the stars and
tend my sheep.'

'Alack! alack! This comes of keeping company with the sheep. That
my son, and my lord's son, should be infected with their sheepish
nature!'

'Never fear, madam,' said Hob. 'When occasion comes, and strength is
grown, his blood will show itself.'

'If I could only give him knightly breeding!' sighed the lady. 'Sir
Lancelot may find the way. I cannot see him grow up a mere shepherd
boy.'

'Content you, madam,' said Hob. 'Never did I see a shepherd boy with
the wisdom and the thought there is in that curly pate!'

'Wisdom! thought!' muttered the lady. 'Those did not save our good
King, only made him a saint. I had rather hear the boy talk of sword
and lance than prate of books and stars! And that wench, whom to our
misfortune thou didst find! What didst tell her?'

'I told her nought, mother, for I had nought to tell.'

'She scented mystery, though,' said Hob. 'She saw he was no herd
boy.'