“What have ye?” demanded Godfrey.
“I have mercery, sweet Sir, and he hath jewelling,” answered the taller of the pedlars, a middle-aged man with a bronzed face, which told of much outdoor exposure.
“Why, well said! Come ye both into hall, and when ye have eaten and drunk, then shall ye open your packs.”
Godfrey led the pedlars into the hall, and shouted for the sewer, whom he bade to set a table, and serve the wearied men with food.
An hour later, Amphillis, who was sewing in her mistress’s chamber, rose at the entrance of Lady Foljambe.
“Here, Dame, be pedlars bearing mercery and jewelling,” said she. “Would your Grace anything that I can pick forth to your content?”
“Ay, I lack a few matters, Avena,” said the Countess, in her usual bitter-sweet style. “A two-three yards of freedom, an’ it like thee; and a boxful of air, so he have it fresh; and if thou see a silver chain of daughter’s duty, or a bit of son’s love set in gold, I could serve me of those if I had them. They’ll not come over sea, methinketh.”
“Would it like your Grace,” asked Lady Foljambe, rather stiffly, “to speak in plain language, and say what you would have?”
“‘Plain language!’” repeated the Countess. “In very deed, but I reckoned I had given thee some of that afore now! I would have my liberty, Avena Foljambe; and I would have my rights; and I would have of mine own childre such honour as ’longeth to a mother by reason and God’s law. Is that plain enough? or wouldst have it rougher hewn?”
“Dame, your Grace wist well that such matter as this cometh not of pedlars’ packs.”