"It is a currish proposal--thus to thrust thyself upon my private

matters," replied Foster; "but thou wert ever an ill-nurtured whelp."

"You shall have no cause to say so, unless you spurn my courtesy," said

Michael Lambourne; "but if so, keep thee well from me, Sir Knight, as

the romance has it. I will either share your counsels or traverse them;

for I have come here to be busy, either with thee or against thee."

"Well," said Anthony Foster, "since thou dost leave me so fair a choice,

I will rather be thy friend than thine enemy. Thou art right; I CAN

prefer thee to the service of a patron who has enough of means to make

us both, and an hundred more. And, to say truth, thou art well qualified

for his service. Boldness and dexterity he demands--the justice-books

bear witness in thy favour; no starting at scruples in his service why,

who ever suspected thee of a conscience? an assurance he must have who

would follow a courtier--and thy brow is as impenetrable as a Milan

visor. There is but one thing I would fain see amended in thee."

"And what is that, my most precious friend Anthony?" replied Lambourne;

"for I swear by the pillow of the Seven Sleepers I will not be slothful

in amending it."

"Why, you gave a sample of it even now," said Foster. "Your speech

twangs too much of the old stamp, and you garnish it ever and anon with

singular oaths, that savour of Papistrie. Besides, your exterior man is

altogether too deboshed and irregular to become one of his lordship's

followers, since he has a reputation to keep up in the eye of the world.

You must somewhat reform your dress, upon a more grave and composed

fashion; wear your cloak on both shoulders, and your falling band

unrumpled and well starched. You must enlarge the brim of your beaver,

and diminish the superfluity of your trunk-hose; go to church, or, which

will be better, to meeting, at least once a month; protest only upon

your faith and conscience; lay aside your swashing look, and never touch

the hilt of your sword but when you would draw the carnal weapon in good

earnest."

"By this light, Anthony, thou art mad," answered Lambourne, "and hast

described rather the gentleman-usher to a puritan's wife, than the

follower of an ambitious courtier! Yes, such a thing as thou wouldst

make of me should wear a book at his girdle instead of a poniard, and

might just be suspected of manhood enough to squire a proud dame-citizen

to the lecture at Saint Antonlin's, and quarrel in her cause with any

flat-capped threadmaker that would take the wall of her. He must ruffle

it in another sort that would walk to court in a nobleman's train."




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