"All this I know; and I own, that as Lord
Glenvarloch was the last you played with, you have a right to charge
your ruin on his head. Moreover, I admit, as already said, that
Margaret has made him your rival. Yet surely, now he is in danger to
lose his hand, it is not a time to remember all this?"
"By my faith, but it is, though," said the young citizen. "Lose his
hand, indeed? They may take his head, for what I care. Head and hand
have made me a miserable wretch!"
"Now, were it not better, my prince of flat-caps," said Dame Ursula,
"that matters were squared between you; and that, through means of the
same Scottish lord, who has, as you say, deprived you of your money
and your mistress, you should in a short time recover both?"
"And how can your wisdom come to that conclusion, dame?" said the
apprentice. "My money, indeed, I can conceive--that is, if I comply
with your proposal; but--my pretty Marget!--how serving this lord,
whom she has set her nonsensical head upon, can do me good with her,
is far beyond my conception."
"That is because, in simple phrase," said Dame Ursula, "thou knowest
no more of a woman's heart than doth a Norfolk gosling. Look you, man.
Were I to report to Mistress Margaret that the young lord has
miscarried through thy lack of courtesy in refusing to help him, why,
then, thou wert odious to her for ever. She will loathe thee as she
will loathe the very cook who is to strike off Glenvarloch's hand with
his cleaver--and then she will be yet more fixed in her affections
towards this lord.
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