"Yes, he can," rejoyns father, "he can make me Lord Chancellor, and then he will make me more than I am already; ergo he will make Sir Thomas more."
"But what I mean is," persists the fool, "that the king can't make such another as you are, any more than all the king's horses and all the king's men can put Humty-dumty together again, which is an ancient riddle, and full of marrow. And soe he'll find, if ever he lifts thy head off from thy shoulders, which God forbid."
Father delighteth in sparring with Patteson far more than in jesting with ye king, whom he alwaies looks on as a lion that may, any minute, fall on him and rend him. Whereas, with 'tother, he ungirds his mind. Their banter commonly exceeds not plesantrie, but Patteson is ne'er without an answer, and although, maybe, each amuses himselfe now and then with thinking, "I'll put him up with such a question," yet, once begun, the skein runs off the reel without a knot, and shews the excellent nature of both, soe free are they alike from malice and over-license. Sometimes their cuts are neater than common listeners apprehend. I've seen Rupert and Will, in fencing, make their swords flash in the sun at every parry and thrust; agayn, owing to some change in mine owne position, or the decline of ye sun, the scintillations have escaped me, though I've known their rays must have been emitted in some quarter alle the same.
Patteson, with one of Argus's cast feathers in his hand, is at this moment beneath my lattice, astride on a stone balustrade, while Bessy, whom he much affects, is sitting on the steps, feeding her peacocks. Sayth Patteson, "Canst tell me, mistress, why peacocks have soe manie eyes in theire tails, and yet can onlie see with two in theire heads?"
"Because those two make them so vain alreadie, fool," says Bess, "that were they always beholding theire own glory, they would be intolerable."
"And besides that," says Patteson, "the less we see or heare, either, of what passes behind our backs, the better for us, since knaves will make mouths at us then, for as glorious as we may be. Canst tell me, mistress, why the peacock was the last bird that went into the ark?"
"First tell me, fool," returns Bess, "how thou knowest that it was soe?"
"Nay, a fool may ask a question wd puzzle a wiseard to answer," rejoyns Patteson; "I mighte ask you, for example, where they got theire fresh kitchen-stuff in the ark, or whether the birds ate other than grains, or the wild beasts other than flesh. It needs must have been a granary."
"We ne'er shew ourselves such fools," says Bess, "as in seeking to know more than is written. They had enough, if none to spare, and we scarce can tell how little is enough for bare sustenance in a state of perfect inaction. If the creatures were kept low, they were all ye less fierce."
"Well answered, mistress," says Patteson; "but tell me, why do you wear two crosses?"