He was buried in our north cloister." "And there's an end of him," said Athelstane.

"But come, this is dismal talk.

Where's Wamba the Jester?
Let us have a song.

Stir up, Wamba, and don't lie like a dog in the fire! Sing us a song, thou crack-brained jester, and leave off whimpering for bygones.

Tush, man! There be many good fellows left in this world." "There be buzzards in eagles' nests," Wamba said, who was lying stretched before the fire, sharing the hearth with the Thane's dogs.
"There be dead men alive, and live men dead.