He sprang out of bed, and bathed and dressed to the hissing accompaniment of ostlers in the yard below and to the clank of horse-hoofs on the cobble-stones.
He breakfasted, as men did in those days, as if he were victualling for a siege, and had great thoughts of kissing the chambermaid when he fee’d her—but refrained.
By half-past nine he was on the road, with a heart full of gaiety, and a recurring wonder for his destination, and clattered under the old west gateway of the town with a song on his lips—
She was throated like the stare—
Well-a-day!
She was white as buds of May—
Well-a-day!
And all with their sweet scent
Her bodie was besprent,
That to kiss her was a joy beyond compare,