the world, to be man's hope and
woman's comfort."

"Faugh!" said Dick. "Y' are a milk-sopping baby, so to harp on women. An
ye think I be no true man, get down upon the path, and whether at fists,
backsword, or bow and arrow, I will prove my manhood on your body."

"Nay, I am no fighter," replied Matcham eagerly. "I mean no tittle of
offence. I meant but pleasantry. And if I talk of women, it is because I
heard ye were to marry."

"I to marry!" Dick exclaimed. "Well, it is the first I hear of it. And
with whom was I to marry?"

"One Joan Sedley," replied Matcham, colouring. "It was Sir Daniel's
doing; he hath money to gain upon both sides; and, indeed, I have heard
the poor wench bemoaning herself pitifully of the match. It seems she is
of your mind, or else distasted to the bridegroom."

"Well! marriage is like death, it comes to all," said Dick, with
resignation. "And she bemoaned herself? I pray ye now, see there how
shuttle-witted are these girls: to bemoan herself before that she had
seen me! Do I bemoan myself? Not I. An I be to marry, I will marry
dry-eyed! But if ye know her, prithee, of what favour is she? fair or
foul? And is she shrewish or pleasant?"

"Nay, what matters it?" said Matcham. "An y' are to marry, ye can but
marry. What matters foul or fair? These be but toys. Y' are no milksop,
Master Richard; ye will wed with dry eyes anyhow."

"It is well said," replied Shelton. "Little I reck."

"Your lady wife is like to have a pleasant lord," said Matcham.

"She shall have the lord Heaven made for her," returned Dick. "I trow
there be worse as well as better."

"Ah, the poor wench!" cried the other.

"And why so poor?" asked Dick.

"To wed a man of wood," replied his companion. "O me, for a wooden
husband!"

"I think I be a man of wood, indeed," said Dick, "to trudge afoot the
while you ride my horse; but it is good wood, I trow."

"Good Dick, forgive me," cried the other. "Nay, y' are the best heart in
England; I but laughed. Forgive me now, sweet Dick."

"Nay, no fool words," returned Dick, a little embarrassed by his
companion's warmth. "No harm is done. I am not touchy, praise the
saints."

And at that moment the wind, which was blowing straight behind them as
they went, brought them the rough flourish of Sir Daniel's trumpeter.

"Hark!" said Dick, "the tucket soundeth."

"Ay," said Matcham, "they have found my flight, and now I am unhorsed!"
and he became pale as death.

"Nay,