"The proverb says, 'House goes mad when women gad;'
and let his lordship's own man wait upon his master in his chamber--it
is more seemly. God give ye good-morrow."
"Good-morrow to your worship," said the dame, somewhat coldly; and,
so soon as the adviser was out of hearing, was ungracious enough to
mutter, in contempt of his council, "Marry quep of your advice, for
an old Scotch tinsmith, as you are! My husband is as wise, and very
near as old, as yourself; and if I please him, it is well enough; and
though he is not just so rich just now as some folks, yet I hope to see
him ride upon his moyle, with a foot-cloth, and have his two blue-coats
after him, as well as they do."
CHAPTER V
Wherefore come ye not to court?
Certain 'tis the rarest sport;
There are silks and jewels glistening,
Prattling fools and wise men listening,
Bullies among brave men justling,
Beggars amongst nobles bustling;
Low-breath'd talkers, minion lispers,
Cutting honest throats by whispers;
Wherefore come ye not to court?
Skelton swears 'tis glorious sport.
_Skelton Skeltonizeth._
It was not entirely out of parade that the benevolent citizen was
mounted and attended in that manner, which, as the reader has been
informed, excited a gentle degree of spleen on the part of Dame
Christie, which, to do her justice, vanished in the little soliloquy
which we have recorded.
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