‘About the beauties of a quiet life, to be sure,’ answered the musician. ‘Do you not thank your stars for them? I met our general this morning. “Sir,” says I, “we should be your grateful servants.” “For what?” says he. “For taking us from the fighting turmoil of our civil lives,” says I, “and showing us the blessings of a bloodless tranquillity.”’
‘And what did he answer?’
‘Why, I blush for him. He said that if I was looking for trouble he could accommodate me then and there. Poor little Tony!
“His last talk of trifles, who told with his tongue
That few were fast i’ the faith. I freyned that freak,
Whether he wanted wit, or some had done him wrong.
He said, he was little John Nobody, that durst not speak.”’
‘Well, are you not hard to please?’
‘Don’t ask me. I am little John Nobody that durst not speak.’
‘What is it you want?’