[#] Frightened, nervous.
"She's only a woman!" said Roger, trying to hit the inkstand with a paper pellet. "Why did the King not send for me himself?"
"Good lack, sweet Lord, but you must never be thus masterful! The King, quotha!"
"The King doth what he will," said Sir Gerard, reprovingly.
"I would, if I were king," responded Roger, aiming another pellet at the inkstand.
"Love us, all the saints!" ejaculated Mistress Grenestede.
"The cockerel crows well, trow?" said Sir Gerard with a laugh. "Look you, good Mistress, he hath the Blood in him. 'Tis no wonder. But have a care, my good Lord, that you use not over much homeliness[#] toward my Lady Princess."
[#] Do not be too familiar.
"What would she with me?"
"Nay, who wist? Carry yourself well and seemly, and you shall see."