red and better educated and the inferior
classes. But this difference, so ill according with her dress and
position, only served to heighten more the bold insolence of the musical
Bacchantes, who, indeed, in the eyes of the sober, formed the most
immoral nuisance attendant on the sports of the time, and whose hardy
license and peculiar sisterhood might tempt the antiquary to search
for their origin amongst the relics of ancient Paganism. And now, to
increase the girl's distress, some half-score of dissolute apprentices
and journeymen suddenly broke into the ring of the Maenads, and were
accosting her with yet more alarming insults, when Marmaduke, pushing
them aside, strode to her assistance. "How now, ye lewd varlets! ye make
me blush for my countrymen in the face of day! Are these the sports of
merry England,--these your manly contests,--to strive which can best
affront a poor maid? Out on ye, cullions and bezonians! Cling to me,
gentle donzel, and fear not. Whither shall I lead thee?" The apprentices
were not, however, so easily daunted. Two of them approached to the
rescue, flourishing their bludgeons about their heads with formidable
gestures. "Ho, ho!" cried one, "what right hast thou to step between the
hunters and the doe? The young quean is too much honoured by a kiss from
a bold 'prentice of London."

Marmaduke stepped back, and drew the small dagger which then formed the
only habitual weapon of a gentleman. [Swords were not worn, in peace, at
that period.] This movement, discomposing his mantle, brought the silver
arrow he had won (which was placed in his girdle) in full view of the
assailants. At the same time they caught sight of the badge on his hat.
These intimidated their ardour more than the drawn poniard.

"A Nevile!" said one, retreating. "And the jolly marksman who beat Nick
Alwyn," said the other, lowering his bludgeon, and doffing his cap.
"Gentle sir, forgive us, we knew not your quality. But as for the
girl--your gallantry misleads you."

"The Wizard's daughter! ha, ha! the Imp of Darkness!" screeched the
timbrel-girls, tossing up their instruments, and catching them again on
the points of their fingers. "She has enchanted him with her glamour.
Foul is fair! Foul fair thee, young springal, if thou go to the nets.
Shadow and goblin to goblin and shadow! Flesh and blood to blood and
flesh!"--and dancing round him, with wanton looks and bare arms, and
gossamer robes that brushed him as they circle