"Or, rather, thou lackest it."
"Why, troth, I am not over-nice in the disposition of vain words; nor should I be over-nice in the disposal of some light scraps from your reverence's buttery."
"Thou hast not dined?"
"Peradventure not at thy cost."
"Perchance an empty stomach may be the more apt to yield. A full belly makes a stout heart."
"I know not. But hasten, I beseech thee. Thy questions over, we may make merry together. Nothing less than a full flagon and a prime haunch will suffice."
Ralph rubbed his hands at the bare idea of these prospective dainties.
"Wilt thou now disclose the name of thy master?"
"No," said Ralph; "and now for dinner."
"Prythee, in what haste?" returned Paslew, with a grin of cruel and malicious irony. "There be some slight preliminaries to adjust,—something to season thy haunch and whet thine appetite." He stamped with his foot, and the two attendants entered, bearing instruments of uncouth and horrid appearance.