"I desire none of your intimacy," said Tressilian--"keep company with
your mates."

"Now, see how hasty he is!" said Lambourne; "and how these gentles, that
are made questionless out of the porcelain clay of the earth, look down
upon poor Michael Lambourne! You would take Master Tressilian now for
the most maid-like, modest, simpering squire of dames that ever made
love when candles were long i' the stuff--snuff; call you it? Why, you
would play the saint on us, Master Tressilian, and forget that even now
thou hast a commodity in thy very bedchamber, to the shame of my lord's
castle, ha! ha! ha! Have I touched you, Master Tressilian?"

"I know not what you mean," said Tressilian, inferring, however, too
surely, that this licentious ruffian must have been sensible of Amy's
presence in his apartment; "'i but if," he continued, "thou art varlet of
the chambers, and lackest a fee, there is one to leave mine unmolested."

Lambourne looked at the piece of gold, and put it in his pocket saying,
"Now, I know not but you might have done more with me by a kind word
than by this chiming rogue. But after all he pays well that pays with
gold; and Mike Lambourne was never a makebate, or a spoil-sport, or the
like. E'en live, and let others live, that is my motto-only, I would not
let some folks cock their beaver at me neither, as if they were made
of silver ore, and I of Dutch pewter. So if I keep your secret, Master
Tressilian, you may look sweet on me at least; and were I to want a
little backing or countenance, being caught, as you see the best of us
may be, in a sort of peccadillo--why, you owe it me--and so e'en make
your chamber serve you and that same bird in bower beside--it's all one
to Mike Lambourne."