ence with 'em. I
have heard an account of a saint, one Phil Neri, who in the midst of his
devotions was lifted up several yards from the ground. Now I do suspect,
Nol, thou wilt finish by being a saint of his order; and nobody will
promise or wish thee the luck to come down on thy feet again, as he did.
So! because a rabble of fanatics at Huntingdon have equipped thee as
their representative in Parliament, thou art free of all men's houses,
forsooth! I would have thee to understand, sirrah, that thou art fitter
for the house they have chaired thee unto than for mine. Yet I do not
question but thou wilt be as troublesome and unruly there as here. Did I
not turn thee out of Hinchinbrook when thou wert scarcely half the rogue
thou art latterly grown up to? And yet wert thou immeasurably too big a
one for it to hold.

_Oliver_.--It repenteth me, O mine uncle! that in my boyhood and youth
the Lord had not touched me.

_Sir Oliver_.--Touch thee! thou wast too dirty a dog by half.

_Oliver_.--Yea, sorely doth it vex and harrow me that I was then of ill
conditions, and that my name--even your godson's--stank in your
nostrils.

_Sir Oliver_.--Ha! polecat! it was not thy name, although bad enough,
that stank first; in my house, at least.[13] But perhaps there are worse
maggots in stauncher mummeries.

_Oliver_.--Whereas in the bowels of your charity you then vouchsafed me
forgiveness, so the more confidently may I crave it now in this my
urgency.

_Sir Oliver_.--More confidently! What! hast got more confidence? Where
didst find it? I never thought the wide circle of the world had within
it another jot for thee. Well, Nol, I see no reason why thou shouldst
stand before me with thy hat off, in the courtyard and in the sun,
counting the stones of the pavement. Thou hast some knavery in thy head,
I warrant thee. Come, put on thy beaver.

_Oliver_.--Uncle Sir Oliver! I know my duty too well to stand covered
in the presence of so worshipful a kinsman, who, moreover, hath answered
at baptism for my good behaviour.

_Sir Oliver_.--God forgive me for playing the fool before Him so
presumptuously and unprofitably! Nobody shall ever take me in again to
do such an absurd and wicked thing. But thou hast some left-hand
business in the neighbourhood, no doubt, or thou wouldst never more have
come under my archway.

_Oliver_.--These are hard times for them that seek peace. We are clay in
the hand of the potter.

_Sir Oliver_.--I wi