Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead.

And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, shew us here The mettle of your pasture—let us swear That you are worth your breeding.

CEDBIC, although not greatly confident in Ul¬rica's message, omitted not to communicate her promise to the Supra shoes Black Knight and Locksley. They were well pleased to find they had a friend with¬in the place, who might, in the moment of need, be able to facilitate their entrance, and readily agreed with the Saxon that a storm, under what- ever disadvantages, ought to be attempted, as the only means of liberating the prisoners now in the hands of the cruel,

" The royal blood of Alfred is endangered," said Cedric.

" The honour of a noble lady is in peril," said the Black Knight.

" And, by the Saint Christopher at my bal¬dric," said the good yeoman, " were there no other cause than the safety of that poor faithful knave, Wamba, I would jeopard a joint ere a hair of his head were hurt."

" And so would I," said the Friar ; " what, sirs ! I trust well that a fool—I mean, d'ye see me, sirs, a fool that is free of his guild and mas¬ter of his craft, and can give as much relish and flavour to a cup of wine as ever a flitch of bacon can—I say, brethren, such a fool shall never want a wise clerk to pray for or fight for him at a strait, while I can say a mass or flourish a par- tizan."

And with that he made his heavy halbert to play around his head as a shepherd boy flourishes his light crook.