moral being of the earl was changed in the baron's estimation.
The baron immediately proceeded to require in his daughter's mind
the same summary revolution that had taken place in his own,
and considered himself exceedingly ill-used by her non-compliance.
The lady had retired to her chamber, and the baron had passed
a supperless and sleepless night, stalking about his apartments
till an advanced hour of the morning, when hunger compelled
him to summon into his presence the spoils of the buttery,
which, being the intended array of an uneaten wedding feast,
were more than usually abundant, and on which, when the knight
and the friar entered, he was falling with desperate valour.
He looked up at them fiercely, with his mouth full of beef
and his eyes full of flame, and rising, as ceremony required,
made an awful bow to the knight, inclining himself forward
over the table and presenting his carving-knife en militaire,
in a manner that seemed to leave it doubtful whether he meant
to show respect to his visitor, or to defend his provision:
but the doubt was soon cleared up by his politely motioning
the knight to be seated; on which the friar advanced to the table,
saying, "For what we are going to receive," and commenced operations
without further prelude by filling and drinking a goblet of wine.
The baron at the same time offered one to Sir Ralph,
with the look of a man in whom habitual hospitality and courtesy
were struggling with the ebullitions of natural anger.
They pledged each other in silence, and the baron, having completed
a copious draught, continued working his lips and his throat,
as if trying to swallow his wrath as he had done his wine.
Sir Ralph, not knowing well what to make of these ambiguous signs,
looked for instructions to the friar, who by significant
looks and gestures seemed to advise him to follow his example