'We have robbed you of your room.

Will you not honour us so far as to sit down with us and share our repast ?' 'Nay, kind sir,' said the portly dame, much flattered by the proposal; 'it is not for me to sit with gentles like yourselves.' 'Beauty has a claim which persons of quality, and above all cavalieros of the sword, are the first to acknowledge,' cried Saxon, with his little twinkling eyes fixed in admiration upon her buxom countenance.
'Nay, by my troth, you shall not leave us.

I shall lock the door first.
If you will not eat, you shall at least drink a cup of Alicant with me.' 'Nay, sir, it is too much honour,' cried Dame Hobson, with a simper.

'I shall go down into the cellars and bring a flask of the best.' 'Nay, by my manhood, you shall not,' said Saxon, springing up from his seat.

'What are all these infernal lazy drawers here for if you are to descend to menial offices ?' Handing the widow to a chair he clanked away into the tap-room, where we heard him swearing at the men-servants, and cursing them for a droning set of rascals who had taken advantage of the angelic goodness of their mistress and her incomparable sweetness of temper.
'Here is the wine, fair mistress,' said he, returning presently with a bottle in either hand.