'
'I feel the case. Be you valiant?--I know, of course, the words
being a matter of form--be you valiant, I ask? Yes, of course.
Then don't you waste it in the open field. Hoard it up, I say, sir,
for a higher class of war--the defence of yer adorable lady. Think
what you owe her at this terrible time! Now, Maister Derriman, once
more I ask ye to cast off that first haughty wish to rush to
Budmouth, and to go where your mis'ess is defenceless and alone.'
'I will, Cripplestraw, now you put it like that!'
'Thank ye, thank ye heartily, Maister Derriman. Go now and hide
with her.'
'But can I? Now, hang flattery!--can a man hide without a stain?
Of course I would not hide in any mean sense; no, not I!'
'If you be in love, 'tis plain you may, since it is not your own
life, but another's, that you are concerned for, and you only save
your own because it can't be helped.'
''Tis true, Cripplestraw, in a sense. But will it be understood
that way? Will they see it as a brave hiding?'
'Now, sir, if you had not been in love I own to ye that hiding would
look queer, but being to save the tears, groans, fits, swowndings,
and perhaps death of a comely young woman, yer principle is good;
you honourably retreat because you be too gallant to advance. This
sounds strange, ye may say, sir; but it is plain enough to less
fiery minds.'
Festus did for a moment try to uncover his teeth in a natural smile,
but it died away. 'Cripplestraw, you flatter me; or do you mean it?
Well, there's truth in it.
Pages:
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273