Thick curls of deep auburn (the most common colour for the locks of the Norman) wreathed in careless disorder round Taillefer's massive unwrinkled brow.

His eye, of light hazel, was bold and joyous; mirth, though sarcastic and sly, mantled round his lips.

His whole presence was at once engaging and heroic.
On the other hand, the priest's cheek was dark and sallow; his features singularly delicate and refined; his forehead high, but somewhat narrow, and crossed with lines of thought; his mien composed, modest, but not without calm self-confidence.

Amongst that assembly of soldiers, noiseless, self-collected, and conscious of his surpassing power over swords and mail, moved the SCHOLAR.
William's keen eye rested on the priest with some surprise, not unmixed with pride and ire; but first addressing Taillefer, who now gained the foot of the dais, he said, with a familiarity almost fond: "Now, by're Lady, if thou bringest not ill news, thy gay face, man, is pleasanter to mine eyes that thy rough song to my ears.

Kneel, Taillefer, kneel to King Edward, and with more address, rogue, than our unlucky countryman to King Charles." But Edward, as ill-liking the form of the giant as the subject of his lay, said, pushing back his seat as far as he could: "Nay, nay, we excuse thee, we excuse thee, tall man." Nevertheless, the minstrel still knelt, and so, with a look of profound humility, did the priest.