“Neither to any other is she, so please your worship. She hath a wicked heart, and worketh evil all her days.”
“Doth she mistreat thee?”
“There be times that she stayeth her hand, being asleep or overcome with drink; but when she hath her judgment clear again, she maketh it up to me with goodly beatings.”
A fierce look came into the little prince’s eyes, and he cried out—
“What! Beatings?”
“Oh, indeed, yes, please you, sir.”
“Beatings!—and thou so frail and little. Hark ye: before the night come, she shall hie her to the Tower. The King my father”—
“In sooth, you forget, sir, her low degree. The Tower is for the great alone.”
“True, indeed. I had not thought of that. I will consider of her punishment. Is thy father kind to thee?”
“Not more than Gammer Canty, sir.”