the master bards were near to tears ; his lute fell to a mumble ; several seconds passed before the lute strings softly hummed ; the gathered bards were patient the music still was playing they waited for the song to finish he turned to them , saying : such went that fateful meeting , in the marketplace , but i returned anew in spring to find there was no trace of the woman aaron breedlove , of that tragic maid ; but of the man named aaron breedlove , much more may be said !