"Why should we have all these bitter texts of scripture thrown at our heads?
Why should we be likened to the drunkards of Ephraim because we drink our Whitsun-ales?
I have tasted nothing more than my morning cup as yet." "Why should our May-pole be termed an idol?
Answer me that, good grandsire ?" Gillian demanded.
"Nay, let him who called it so answer thee, child, for I cannot," the old farmer rejoined.

"I can see naught idolatrous in it." "Why should our pretty May Queen be despoiled of her ornaments because they please not his fanatical taste ?" Dick Taverner demanded.

"For my part I can discern no difference between a Puritan and a knave, and I would hang both." This sally met with a favourable reception from the crowd, and a voice exclaimed--"Ay, hang all knavish Puritans." Again Hugh Calveley lifted up his voice.

"Think not to make me afraid," he cried; "I have confronted armed hosts with boldness when engaged in a worse cause than this, and I am not likely to give way before a base rabble, now that I have become a soldier of Christ and fight his battles.

I repeat my warnings to you, and will not hold my peace till you give heed to them.