I have half a mind to let Monmouth carve his own road, and to pitch my tent in this quiet English township.' 'Your tent, indeed!' cried Reuben; 'it is a brave tent that is furnished with cellars of such wine as we are drinking.

And as to the quiet, my illustrious, if you take up your residence here I'll warrant that the quiet soon comes to an end.' 'You have seen the woman,' said Saxon, with his brow all in a wrinkle with thought.

'She hath much to commend her.

A man must look to himself.
Two hundred pounds a year are not to be picked off the roadside every June morning.

It is not princely, but it is something for an old soldier of fortune who hath been in the wars for five-and-thirty years, and foresees the time when his limbs will grow stiff in his harness.