Bear witness, Mother Matilda, and you, Emlyn Stower, that I have signed and will sign nothing.

Clement Maldon, Abbot of Blossholme, I am a free woman of full age, even though, as you say, I am a wanton.

Where is your right to chain up a wanton who is no religious?
Unlock these gates and let me go." Now he felt the wolf's fangs, and they were sharp.
"Whither would you go ?" he asked.
"Whither but to the King, to lay my cause before him, as my father would have done last Christmas-time." It was a bold speech, but foolish.

The she-wolf had loosed her hold to growl--to growl at a hunter with a bloody sword.
"I think your father never reached his Grace with his sack of falsehoods; nor might you, Cicely Foterell.

The times are rough, rebellion is in the air, and many wild men hunt the woods and roads.