'Aye, so it is.'
Lascelles read from his paper:
'How is it with this realm of England?'
The printer glanced at the paper that was upon his lectern. He made
answer--
'Well! But not over well!'
And at these words Lascelles feigned surprise, lifting his well-shapen
and white hand in the air.
'How is this that ye say?' he uttered. 'Are ye all of this tale?'
A deep 'Aye!' came from all these chests. There was one old man that
could never keep still. He had huge limbs, a great ruffled poll of
grizzling hair, and his legs that were in jerkins of red leather kicked
continuously in little convulsions. He peered every minute at some new
thing, very closely, holding first his tablets so near that he could see
only with one eye, then the whistle that hung round his neck, then a
little piece of paper that he took from his poke. He cried out in a deep
voice--'Aye! aye! Not over well. Witchcraft and foul weather and rocks,
my mates and masters all!' so that he appeared to be a seaman--and
indeed he traded to the port of Antwerp, in the Low Countries, where he
had learned of some of the Faith.
'Why,' Lascelles said, 'be ye not contented with our goodly King?'
'Never was a better since Solomon ruled in Jewry,' the shipman cried
out.
'Is it, then, the Lords of the King's Council that ye are discontented
with?'
'Nay, they are goodly men, for they are of the King's choosing,' one
answered--a little man with a black pill-hat.
'Why, speak through your leader,' the stranger said heavily from the
hearth-place. 'Here is too much skimble-skamble.' The old man beside him
leaned over his chair-back and whispered in his ear. But the stranger
shook his head heavily. He sat and gazed at the brands. His great hands
were upon his knees, pressed down, but now and again they moved as if he
were in some agony.
'It is well that ye do as the Lord commandeth,' Lascelles said; 'for in
Almain, whence he cometh, there is wont to be a great order and
observance.' He held his paper up again to the light. 'Master Printer,
answer now to this question: Find ye aught amiss with the judges and
justices of this realm?'
'Nay; they do judge indifferent well betwixt cause and cause,' the
printer answered from his paper.
'Or with the serjeants, the apparitors, the collectors of taxes, or the
Parliament men?'
'These, too, perform indifferent well their appointed tasks,' the
printer said gloomily.
'Or is it with the Church of this realm that ye find fault?'
'Body of God!' the stranger said heavily.
'Nay!' the printer answered, 'for the supreme head of that Church is the
King, a man learned before all others in the law of God; such a King as
speaketh as though he were that mouthpiece of the Most High that the
Antichrist at Rome claimeth to be.'
'Is it, then, with the worshipful the little Prince of Wales that ye are
discontented?' Lascelles read, and the printer answered that there was
not such another Prince of his years for promise and for performance,
too, in all Christendom.