I tell thee, shackles and the prison-house shall punish the next offence of this kind." Gurth, knowing his master's irritable temper, attempted no exculpation; but the Jester, who could presume upon Cedric's tolerance, by virtue of his privileges as a fool, replied for them both; "In troth, uncle Cedric, you are neither wise nor reasonable to-night." "'How, sir ?" said his master; "you shall to the porter's lodge, and taste of the discipline there, if you give your foolery such license." "First let your wisdom tell me," said Wamba, "is it just and reasonable to punish one person for the fault of another ?" "Certainly not, fool," answered Cedric.
"Then why should you shackle poor Gurth, uncle, for the fault of his dog Fangs?
for I dare be sworn we lost not a minute by the way, when we had got our herd together, which Fangs did not manage until we heard the vesper-bell." "Then hang up Fangs," said Cedric, turning hastily towards the swineherd, "if the fault is his, and get thee another dog." "Under favour, uncle," said the Jester, "that were still somewhat on the bow-hand of fair justice; for it was no fault of Fangs that he was lame and could not gather the herd, but the fault of those that struck off two of his fore-claws, an operation for which, if the poor fellow had been consulted, he would scarce have given his voice." "And who dared to lame an animal which belonged to my bondsman ?" said the Saxon, kindling in wrath.
"Marry, that did old Hubert," said Wamba, "Sir Philip de Malvoisin's keeper of the chase.

He caught Fangs strolling in the forest, and said he chased the deer contrary to his master's right, as warden of the walk." "The foul fiend take Malvoisin," answered the Saxon, "and his keeper both! I will teach them that the wood was disforested in terms of the great Forest Charter.

But enough of this.

Go to, knave, go to thy place--and thou, Gurth, get thee another dog, and should the keeper dare to touch it, I will mar his archery; the curse of a coward on my head, if I strike not off the forefinger of his right hand!--he shall draw bowstring no more .-- I crave your pardon, my worthy guests.

I am beset here with neighbours that match your infidels, Sir Knight, in Holy Land.
But your homely fare is before you; feed, and let welcome make amends for hard fare." The feast, however, which was spread upon the board, needed no apologies from the lord of the mansion.