“Nay, nay, Sir Knave,” cried Sang, “horrow tallowcatch that thou art—no generals—swear me in particulars—item by item, dost thou hear, as thou framest thy reckonings? If thou dost not down goeth the trap-door again, and I leave thee here to meditate and ypend my proposal, until my return from the Holy Wars, whether I am boune. By that time thou wilt be more humble, and more coming to my terms. Swear.”
“I swear, by the holy St. Cuthbert,” replied the host, “that all Scots shall henceforth be entertained with the best meats and drinks the nale of the Norham Tower can afford, yea, alswa the best herborow it can yield them.”
“’Tis well,” said Sang; “swear me next, then, and let the oath be strong, that thou wilt never again score double.”
“Nay, Master Squire, that is a hard oath for a tapster to take; ’tis warring against the very nicest mystery of my vocation,” said Kyle.
“No matter, Sir Knave,” said Sang, “I shall not have my terms agrutched by thee. An thou swearest not this, down thou goest, and I leave thee to settle scores with a friend of thine below, with whom thou wilt find the single reckoning of thy sins a hard enough matter for thee to pay.”
“Oh, for mercy’s sake, touch not the trap-door, Sir Squire, and I will swear anything,” cried Kyle, much alarmed at seeing Sang’s brawny arm preparing to turn it over upon his head.
“Well, thou horrow lossel,” cried Sang, “dost thou swear thou wilt never more cheat, or score double?”
“I do, I do,” said the host; “by the holy Rood, I swear that I will never cheat or score double again. God help me,” cried he, after a pause, “how shall I eschew it, and what shall I do without it?”
“Now, thou prince of knaves,” cried Sang, “thou hast yet one more serment to swallow. Swear by the blessed Virgin, that thou wilt receive thy wife back into thy bosom, and abandoning thy former harshness towards her, that thou wilt kindly cherish her, and do thy possible to comfort and pleasure her, forgetting all that may have hitherto happened amiss between ye. I restore her to thee pure. She was not to blame for my [[83]]being in the vault with her. The coulpe was all thine own. Thou madest me ravenous with hunger by thy villainous chinchery. My nose, through very want, became as sharp in scent as that of a sleuth-hound. I winded the steam that came from the trap-door, yea, from the very common room where I sat. I ran it up hot foot, and descending the stair, I had but just begun to feast mine eyes with that thou hadst denied to my stomach, when thy pestiferous voice was heard. Thy wife is as virtuous and innocent as the child unborn. So swear, I say.”
Master Sylvester Kyle shook his head wofully, and looked very far from satisfied; but he had no alternative; he swore as the squire wished him to do, and then was permitted to issue from his subterranean prison.