of larks, broche, and all. He drew off two, which he placed on his
friend's platter, despite all dissuasive gesticulations, and deposited
the rest upon his own. The young banqueters gazed upon the spectacle
in wrath too full for words.

At last spoke Mallet de Graville, with an envious eye upon the larks--
for though a Norman was not gluttonous, he was epicurean--"Certes, and
foi de chevalier! a man must go into strange parts if he wish to see
monsters; but we are fortunate people," (and he turned to his Norman
friend, Aymer, Quen [56] or Count, D'Evreux,) "that we have discovered
Polyphemus without going so far as Ulysses;" and pointing to the
hooded giant, he quoted, appropriately enough,

"Monstrum, horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum."

The giant continued to devour his larks, as complacently as the ogre
to whom he was likened might have devoured the Greeks in his cave.
But his fellow intruder seemed agitated by the sound of the Latin; he
lifted up his head suddenly, and showed lips glistening with white
even teeth, and curved into an approving smile, while he said: "Bene,
me fili! bene, lepidissime, poetae verba, in militis ore, non indecora
sonant." [57]

The young Norman stared at the speaker, and replied, in the same tone
of grave affectation: "Courteous sir! the approbation of an
ecclesiastic so eminent as I take you to be, from the modesty with
which you conceal your greatness, cannot fail to draw upon me the envy
of my English friends; who are accustomed to swear in verba magistri,
only for verba they learnedly substitute vina."