Finding himself overpowered, the Jester at length threw himself from his horse, plunged into the thicket, and, favoured by the general confusion, escaped from the scene of action.

Yet the valiant Jester, as soon as he found himself safe, hesitated more than once whether he should not turn back and share the captivity of a master to whom he was sincerely attached.
"I have heard men talk of the blessings of freedom," he said to himself, "but I wish any wise man would teach me what use to make of it now that I have it." As he pronounced these words aloud, a voice very near him called out in a low and cautious tone, "Wamba!" and, at the same time, a dog, which he recognised to be Fangs, jumped up and fawned upon him.

"Gurth!" answered Wamba, with the same caution, and the swineherd immediately stood before him.
"What is the matter ?" said he eagerly; "what mean these cries, and that clashing of swords ?" "Only a trick of the times," said Wamba; "they are all prisoners." "Who are prisoners ?" exclaimed Gurth, impatiently.
"My lord, and my lady, and Athelstane, and Hundibert, and Oswald." "In the name of God!" said Gurth, "how came they prisoners ?--and to whom ?" "Our master was too ready to fight," said the Jester; "and Athelstane was not ready enough, and no other person was ready at all.

And they are prisoners to green cassocks, and black visors.

And they lie all tumbled about on the green, like the crab-apples that you shake down to your swine.