"No true knight but would do the same," replied Sir Osborne. "It was only by my permission that he got away at all: therefore he was bound in honour to pay the full ransom of a person of his condition."
"Well, then," said the Fleming, "here comes the ransom of two esquires, gentlemen they call themselves, five hundred crowns each, making in the whole seven thousand crowns, or two thousand six hundred and twenty-five marks. Then there is against you, freight and carriage of armour and goods, four marks; exchange and commission, three marks; porterage, a croat; warehouse-room, two croats: balance for you, two thousand six hundred and seventeen marks, five shillings, and two croats, which I am ready to pay you, as well as to deliver the two suits of harness and the packages."
"The money, at present, I do not want," replied Sir Osborne; "but I will be glad if you would send the arms, and the rest of the packages, to the manor of the Rose, in St. Lawrence Poultney."
"To the coot Duke of Buckingham's? Ah! that I will, that I will! But I hope you will stay and take your noon-meal with me; though I know you men of war do not like the company of us merchants. But I will say, I have never found you any way proud."
"I would most willingly, Master Hans," answered the knight; "but I go to the court to-morrow for the first time, and I have no small preparation to make with tailors and broiderers."
"Oh! stay with me, stay with me, and I will fit you to your desire," answered the Fleming. "There is a tailor lives hard by who will suit you well. I am not going to give you a man who can make nothing but a burgomaster's gown or a merchant's doublet. I know your coot companions would laugh, and say you had had a merchant's tailor; but this is a man who, if you like it, shall stuff out your breeches till you can't sit down, make all the seams by a plumb-line, tighten your girdle till you have no more waist than a wasp; and, moreover, he is tailor to the Duke of Suffolk."
The knight found this recommendation quite sufficient; and agreeing to dine with the honest Fleming, the tailor was sent for, who, with a great display of sartorial learning, devised several suits, in which Sir Osborne might appear at court, without being either so gaudy as the butterflies of the day, or so plain as to call particular attention. The only difficulty was to know whether the tailor could furnish a complete suit for the knight, and one for each of his four attendants, by the next morning; but after much calculation, and summing up of all the friendly tailors within his knowledge, he undertook to do it; and, what is wonderful for a tailor, kept his word.
CHAPTER XIX.
What strange adventure do ye now pursue?
Perhaps my succour or advisement meet
Mote stead ye much.--Spenser.
A barber surgeon one day, bleeding a farrier, bound up his arm with a piece of red tape, and pinned it. The farrier went the next day to shoe one of the king of the country's horses; as he was driving the nail, the pin pricked him, the nail went too near the quick, the horse's foot grew tender, the king went out to hunt, the horse threw him, the king was taken up dead, and was succeeded by his son, whom he intended to have disinherited the next day for his cruel disposition. The new king cut off his subjects' heads, made continual war upon all the states around, conquered a great many countries, gained a great many battles, robbed, murdered, and burned, and at last was assassinated himself, when human nature could bear him no longer; and at the end of his reign it was computed that a hundred millions of treasure, and twenty millions of human lives, had been wasted, by a barber pinning a piece of red tape, instead of tying it, like his grandfather.