I had a
brother like thee, and, as a brother, I can love and pray for thee.
But ask not more, Marmaduke. I have aims in life which forbid all other
love."

"Art thou too aspiring for one who has his spurs to win?"

"Not so; but listen. My mother's lessons and my own heart have made my
poor father the first end and object of all things on earth to me. I
live to protect him, work for him, honour him; and for the rest, I have
thoughts thou canst not know, an ambition thou canst not feel. Nay," she
added, with that delightful smile which chased away the graver thought
which had before saddened her aspect, "what would thy sober friend
Master Alwyn say to thee, if he heard thou hadst courted the wizard's
daughter?"

"By my faith," exclaimed Marmaduke, "thou art a very April,--smiles
and clouds in a breath! If what thou despisest in me be my want of
bookcraft, and such like, by my halidame I will turn scholar for thy
sake; and--"

Here, as he had again taken Sibyll's hand, with the passionate ardour of
his bold nature, not to be lightly daunted by a maiden's first "No," a
sudden shrill, wild burst of laughter, accompanied with a gusty fit
of unmelodious music from the street below, made both maiden and youth
start, and turn their eyes; there, weaving their immodest dance, tawdry
in their tinsel attire, their naked arms glancing above their heads, as
they waved on high their instruments, went the timbrel-girls.

"Ha, ha!" cried their leader, "see the gallant and the witch-leman! The
glamour has done its work! Foul is fair! foul is fair! and the devil
will have his own!"

But these creatures, whose bold license the ancient chronicler records,
were rarely seen alone. They haunted parties of pomp and pleasure;
they linked together the extremes of life,--the grotesque Chorus that
introduced the terrible truth of foul vice and abandoned wretchedness
in the midst of the world's holiday and pageant. So now, as they wheeled
into the silent, squalid street, they heralded a goodly company of dames
and cavaliers on horseback, who were passing through the neighbouring
plains into the park of Marybone to enjoy the sport of falconry. The
splendid dresses of this procession, and the grave and measured dignity
with which it swept along, contrasted forcibly with the wild movements
and disorderly mirth of the timbrel-players. These last darted round
and round the riders, holding out their instruments for largess, and
retorting, with lau