"Why lament that the arrow returns not to the quiver, providing it hit the mark?
Cheer up yet.

Here are Tormot and I but little hurt, while the wildcats drag themselves through the plain as if they were half throttled by the terriers.

Yet one brave stand, and the day shall be your own, though it may well be that you alone remain alive.

Minstrels, sound the gathering." The pipers on both sides blew their charge, and the combatants again mingled in battle, not indeed with the same strength, but with unabated inveteracy.

They were joined by those whose duty it was to have remained neuter, but who now found themselves unable to do so.