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第169章

said he; 'oh, Bon Bec, Bon Bec, if I had found the world like thee at starting I had put my wit to better use, and I had not lain here.' Then he whimpered out, 'I gave not quite a rix dollar for the jingler;' and threw me back that he had gone to cheat me of;honest for once, and over late; and so, with many sighs, bade me Godspeed.Thus did my master, after often baffling men's justice, fall by their injustice; for his lost ears proved not his guilt only, but of that guilt the bitter punishment: so the account was even; yet they for his chastisement did chastise him.Natheless he was a parlous rogue.Yet he holp to make a man of me.Thanks to his good wit I went forward richer far with my psaltery and brush, than with yon as good as stolen purse; for that must have run dry in time, like a big trough, but these a little fountain."Richart."How pregnant his reflections be; and but a curly pated lad when last I saw him.Asking your pardon, mistress.Prithee read on.""One day I walked alone, and sooth to say, lighthearted, for mine honest Denys sweetened the air on the way; but poor Cul de Jatte poisoned it.The next day passing a grand house, out came on prancing steeds a gentleman in brave attire and two servants; they overtook me.The gentleman bade me halt.I laughed in my sleeve;for a few batzen were all my store.He bade me doff my doublet and jerkin.Then I chuckled no more.'Bethink you, my lord,' said I, ''tis winter.How may a poor fellow go bare and live? So he told me I shot mine arrow wide of his thought, and off with his own gay jerkin, richly furred, and doublet to match, and held them forth to me.Then a servant let me know it was a penance.'His lordship had had the ill luck to slay his cousin in their cups.' Down to my shoes he changed with me; and set me on his horse like a popinjay, and fared by my side in my worn weeds, with my psaltery on his back.And said he, 'Now, good youth, thou art Cousin Detstein; and I, late count, thy Servant.Play the part well, and help me save my bloodstained soul! Be haughty and choleric, as any noble; and Iwill be as humble as I may.' I said I would do my best to play the noble.But what should I call him? He bade me call him nought but Servant.That would mortify him most, he wist.We rode on a long way in silence; for I was meditating this strange chance, that from a beggar's servant had made me master to a count, and also cudgelling my brains how best I might play the master, without being run through the body all at one time like his cousin.For Imistrusted sore my spark's humility; your German nobles being, to my knowledge, proud as Lucifer, and choleric as fire.As for the servants, they did slily grin to one another to see their master so humbled"What is that?"A lump, as of lead, had just bounced against the door, and the latch was fumbled with unsuccessfully.Another bounce, and the door swung inwards with Giles arrayed in cloth of gold sticking to it like a wasp.He landed on the floor, and was embraced; but on learning what was going on, trumpeted that he would much liever hear of Gerard than gossip.

Sybrandt pointed to a diminutive chair.

Giles showed his sense of this civility by tearing the said Sybrandt out of a very big one, and there ensconced himself gorgeous and glowing.Sybrandt had to wedge himself into the one, which was too small for the magnificent dwarf's soul, and Margaret resumed.But as this part of the letter was occupied with notices of places, all which my reader probably knows, and if not, can find handled at large in a dozen well-known books, from Munster to Murray, I skip the topography, and hasten to that part where it occurred to him to throw his letter into a journal.The personal narrative that intervened may be thus condensed.

He spoke but little at first to his new companions, but listened to pick up their characters.Neither his noble Servant nor his servants could read or write; and as he often made entries in his tablets, he impressed them with some awe.One of his entries was, "Le peu que sont les hommes." For he found the surly innkeepers licked the very ground before him now; nor did a soul suspect the hosier's son in the count's feathers, nor the count in the minstrel's weeds.

This seems to have surprised him; for he enlarged on it with the naivete and pomposity of youth.At one place, being humbly requested to present the inn with his armorial bearings, he consented loftily; but painted them himself, to mine host's wonder, who thought he lowered himself by handling brush.The true count stood grinning by, and held the paint-pot, while the sham count painted the shield with three red herrings rampant under a sort of Maltese cross made with two ell-measures.At first his plebeian servants were insolent.But this coming to the notice of his noble one, he forgot what he was doing penance for, and drew his sword to cut off their ears, heads included.But Gerard interposed and saved them, and rebuked the count severely.And finally they all understood one another, and the superior mind obtained its natural influence.He played the barbarous noble of that day vilely.For his heart would not let him be either tyrannical or cold.Here were three human beings.He tried to make them all happier than he was; held them ravished with stories and songs, and set Herr Penitent and Co.dancing with his whistle and psaltery.For his own convenience he made them ride and tie, and thus pushed rapidly through the country, travelling generally fifteen leagues a day.

DIARY.

"This first day of January I observed a young man of the country to meet a strange maiden, and kissed his hand, and then held it out to her.She took it with a smile, and lo! acquaintance made;and babbled like old friends.Greeting so pretty and delicate Ine'er did see.Yet were they both of the baser sort.So the next lass I saw a coming, I said to my servant lord, 'For further penance bow thy pride; go meet yon base-born girl; kiss thy homicidal hand, and give it her, and hold her in discourse as best ye may.' And my noble Servant said humbly, 'I shall obey my lord.'

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