"Did Leicester waylay and siege?
'Sblood, had I known this, I'd have broached him and swallowed him even on crutches." "She made him raise the siege, she turned his own guns upon him, and in the end hath driven him hence." By rough questioning Lempriere got from the fool by snatches the story of the meeting in the maze, which had left Leicester standing with the jester's ribboned bells in his hand.
Then the Seigneur got to his feet, and hugged the fool, bubbling with laughter.
"By all the blood of all the saints, I will give thee burial in my own grave when all's done," he spluttered; "for there never was such fooling, never such a wise fool come since Confucius and the Khan.

Good be with you, fool, and thanks be for such a lady.

Thanks be also for the Duke's Daughter.

Ah, how she laid Leicester out! She washed him up the shore like behemoth, and left him gaping." Buonespoir intervened.

"And what shall come of it?
What shall be the end?
The Honeyflower lies at anchor--there be three good men in waiting, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and--" The Seigneur interrupted.