For mine was good!" "How! your's, my friend?
Let me your story comprehend:
Your bull, you say, my ox has gored?"
"Forgive me the mistake, my lord,
In my confusion I have made;
Mine was the ox that must be paid;
But 'tis all one—what's just for me
The same must for your worship be:
I'll tell the steward what you say."
"Not yet—we'll think of it to-day.