The Men of Cadfael Court were mesmerized.   The first hour passed swiftly and  Sir Hillier was captivated by the music, swaying to an fro to the rhythms.     Sir Grindle and Tertius studied one dancer move coins up and down her abdomen with muscular contractions.     Etien de Rochfort inquired how one would show appreciation and the Marquis, ever the font of information, replied “clap to the music, shout bravo or Hola!” he drank some wine, “Throw gold coins onto the floor of the arena when the dancers are done” His voice grew stern. “Do not make catcalls. Do not utter double entendre or vulgar remarks. Absolutely no whistling.  These ladies appreciate gentlemen”

 Within moments each of the worthies had a small sack of coins before them and when each set of dancers finished, it rained gold from the Great Table of Honor.  The  men were enchanted and the women danced with much gold driven enthusiasm.

 Alas, all good things must end. The worthies got up and saluted one another. Patrons marvelled at how much spirits they had consumed and still acted nobly. They left to return to their domiciles.

 Moving along the streets, Duc Guillaume le Courageux. had somehow obtained the finger cymbals and was keeping the rhythm of the music with his hands.     Sir Hillier drummed the beat  with his fingers on his leather belt.   There was much laughter and when they passed the Campground,  Robert de Giselles and Baron Loben bade farewell to the entourage and went unto their tents.  They  entered humming the music of the evening, kept humming through undressing and hummed in their beds until falling asleep.

 Tertius was a cool one. He went to his apartment, effortlessly climbed the stair, bade his comrades goodnight, entered,  closed the door and passed out.  .  He was asleep before his head struck the parquet inlay.

 Sir Gindle was grinning ear to ear. At his doorstep he tried three times to walk through and failed. “Can’t get my grin across the threshold.”   Etien de Rocherfort suggested opening the door first and Sir Gindle disappeared into his room.

 Sir Hillier was downright jolly and the Marquis decided to buy this good friend one of those stringed Arabian lyres for he had a knack of remembering the music.  Sir Hillier appeared sober and alert, saluted his comrades without flourishes or dramatics and then struck a pose most Arabic and shuffled into his apartment.      Now Sir Etien was the very picture of Bretonnnian propriety. He had imbibed enough spirits to lay out a Giant, but appeared sober as a judge. He knocked politely at the door to his apartment and it was opened by his lady. He bade farewell and thanks for a fascinating evening to the Marquis..