SoRalphsmiledonhimandsaid：“Thouhastnoweapon，then？”
“Whatneedforweapon？”saidhe；“sincewearenotofmightforbattle。
Thisismyweapon。”saidhe，touchinghisfiddle，“andwithalitismyfieldandmineacrethatraisethflesh-meatandbreadforme：
yea，andwhilesalittledrink。”
Sotheyrodeontogetherandthemanwasblitheandmerry：