“I am but turned of fifty,” interrupted Fusbius.
“And have not yet learnt silence?” asked Deodonato severely. “Damsel, proceed!”
“Caught me by my gown as I ran and—”
“I proposed marriage to her,” said Fusbius.
“Nay, if you proposed marriage, she shall marry you,” said Deodonato. “By the crown of my fathers, she shall marry you. But what said he, damsel?”
“May it please your Highness, he said that I had the prettiest face in all the Duchy, and that he would have no wife but me; and thereupon he kissed me; and I would have none of him, and I struck him and escaped.”
“Send for the Judges,” said Duke Deodonato. “And meanwhile keep this damsel and let no man propose marriage to her until Our pleasure be known.”
Now when the Judges were come, and the maiden was brought in and set over against them on the right hand, and the learned Doctor took his stand on the left, Deodonato prayed the Judges that they would perpend carefully and anxiously of the question—using all lore, research, wisdom, discretion, and justice—whether Dr. Fusbius had proposed marriage unto the maiden or no.
“Thus shalt Our mind be informed, and We shall deal profitably with this matter,” concluded Duke Deodonato.
Upon which arose great debate. For there was one part of the learned men which leant upon the letter and found no invitation to marriage in the words of Dr. Fusbius; while another part would have it that in all things the spirit and mind of the utterer must be regarded, and that it sorted not with the years, virtues, learning, and position of the said most learned Doctor to suppose that he had spoken such words and sealed the same with a kiss, save under the firm impression, thought, and conviction that he was offering his hand in marriage; which said impression, thought, and conviction were fully and reasonably declared and evident in his actions, manner, bearing, air, and conduct.