“Reputed rich! Oh, what a bitter thing is a bad reputation. I am Job-poor; both ends will not meet, I tell you. If I had for lending-money a guinea in one pocket, why, I should lend it to the other pocket.”
“Why do you woo me if you be so poor?” Brilliana asked, with a fine show of heat, and Halfman nodded his head as much as to say, “Ay, ay, answer me that, if you can.”
Master Peter strove to answer, lamely enough.
“Poor in pennies, lady, poorer in shillings, poorest in guineas. I may own half the country-side and have no coin to clink against the other.”
Brilliana scoffed at his protest.
“Why, ’tis not so long ago Master Paul Hungerford told me you were a very Crœsus.”
Master Peter clinched and unclinched his horny hands as if he were coming to grips with his traducer.
“Master Hungerford told you that? I would I had my hands knotted about his lying throat. He that is as rich as a Jew, that has a treasure of gold plate in his sideboard that would keep the King in arms and men for a month of Sundays, he so to slander my poverty.”
Brilliana heaved a sympathetic sigh.