"There thou liest," replied the gallant.

"How, lie!" exclaimed Blount, starting up, "lie! and to me?"

"Why, so thou didst, thou peevish fool," answered the youth; "thou didst
lie on that bench even now, didst thou not? But art thou not a hasty
coxcomb to pick up a wry word so wrathfully? Nevertheless, loving and,
honouring my lord as truly as thou, or any one, I do say that, should
Heaven take him from us, all England's manhood dies not with him."

"Ay," replied Blount, "a good portion will survive with thee,
doubtless."

"And a good portion with thyself, Blount, and with stout Markham here,
and Tracy, and all of us. But I am he will best employ the talent Heaven
has given to us all."

"As how, I prithee?" said Blount; "tell us your mystery of multiplying."

"Why, sirs," answered the youth, "ye are like goodly land, which bears
no crop because it is not quickened by manure; but I have that rising
spirit in me which will make my poor faculties labour to keep pace with
it. My ambition will keep my brain at work, I warrant thee."

"I pray to God it does not drive thee mad," said Blount; "for my part,
if we lose our noble lord, I bid adieu to the court and to the camp
both. I have five hundred foul acres in Norfolk, and thither will I, and
change the court pantoufle for the country hobnail."