gone, I take to heart that I profited not more by his
teaching. Saying to Mercy, overnight, that methought she missed not our
good master, she made answer, "Oh yes, I doe; how can I choose but miss
him, who taught me to be, to doe, and to suffer?" And this with a light
laugh, yet she lookt not merrie.

... Writing y^e above, I was interrupted by shrill cries either of woman
or boy, as of one in acute payn, and ran forthe of my chamber to learne
y^e cause. I met Bess coming hastilie out of y^e garden, looking
somewhat pale, and cried, "What is it?" She made answer, "Father is
having Dick Halliwell beaten for some evill communication with Jack.
'Tis seldom or never he proceedeth to such extremities, soe the offence
must needs have beene something pernicious; and, e'en as 'tis, father is
standing by to see he is not smitten over-much; ne'erthelesse, Giles
lays the stripes on with a will."

It turned me sick. I have somewhat of my mother in me, who was a tender
and delicate woman, that woulde weepe to see a bird killed by a cat. I
hate corporall punishments, and yet they've Scripture warrant. Father
seldom hath recourse to 'em; and yet we feare as well as love him more
than we doe mother, who, when she firste came among us, afore father had
softened her down a little, used to hit righte and left. I mind me of
her saying one day to her own daughter Daisy, "Your tucker is too low,"
and giving her a slap, mighte have beene hearde in Chelsea Reach. And
there was the stamp of a greate red hand on Daisy's white shoulder all
y^e forenoon, but the worst of it was, that Daisy tooke it with perfect
immoveabilitie, nor lookt in the leaste ashamed, which Scripture sayth
a daughter shoulde doe, if her parent but spit in her face, i.e. sett on
her some publick mark of contumely. Soe far from this, I even noted a
silent look of scorn, which payned me, for of all the denunciations in
Holy Writ, there is none more awfull to my mind than that which sayth,
"The eye that mocketh at father or mother," not alone the tongue, but
e'en the eye,--"the young ravens of the valley shall pick it out."

* * * * *

Sayth Lord Rutland to my father, in his acute sneering way, "Ah, ah, Sir
Thomas, _Honores mutant mores_."

"Not so, in faith, my lord," returns father, "but have a care lest we
translate the proverb, and say, Honours change Manners."

It served him right, and the jest is worth preserving, because 'twas not
p