I don't want to be a great
commander or a state-councillor, and if I did want it ever so much I know I
should never be one or the other. I am content to be a thane, as my father
was before me, and seek no greater change than that of a stay for a month
at court. That brightens one up more than anything; and one cannot be all
one's life hunting in the woods and seeing after the tenants. By the way,
I had a quarrel the other day with your old Norman enemy, Fitz-Urse. Your
name was mentioned, and he chose to sneer offensively. I told him that you
had done more already than he would ever do if he lived to be an old man.
We came to high words, and next day met in the forest and there settled it.
He ran me through the arm, and I slashed his cheek. As quarrelling is
strictly forbidden he made some excuse and went over to France, while I
went down home till my arm was well again. I fancy we hurt each other about
equally, but the scar on my arm won't show, while I fancy, from what the
leech who dressed his wound told me, the sear is likely to spoil his beauty
for life."
"I am sorry you quarrelled with him about me, Beorn. It would have been
better to have said nothing, though I thank you for your championship."
"Nonsense, Wulf. I know very well you would not hear anyone speak ill of me
without taking up the cudgels for me."
Wulf could not deny this. "Certainly not, Beorn; still it is a pity to make
an enemy, and Fitz-Urse has shown in my case that he is not one who
forgives.
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