“Good even to you, Master Robert Laneham,” said Leicester, and seemed desirous to pass forward, without further speech.
“I have a suit to your noble lordship,” said the figure, boldly following him.
“And what is it, good master keeper of the council-chamber door?”
“CLERK of the council-chamber door,” said Master Robert Laneham, with emphasis, by way of reply, and of correction.
“Well, qualify thine office as thou wilt, man,” replied the Earl; “what wouldst thou have with me?”
“Simply,” answered Laneham, “that your lordship would be, as heretofore, my good lord, and procure me license to attend the Summer Progress unto your lordship's most beautiful and all-to-be-unmatched Castle of Kenilworth.”
“To what purpose, good Master Laneham?” replied the Earl; “bethink you, my guests must needs be many.”
“Not so many,” replied the petitioner, “but that your nobleness will willingly spare your old servitor his crib and his mess. Bethink you, my lord, how necessary is this rod of mine to fright away all those listeners, who else would play at bo-peep with the honourable council, and be searching for keyholes and crannies in the door of the chamber, so as to render my staff as needful as a fly-flap in a butcher's shop.”
“Methinks you have found out a fly-blown comparison for the honourable council, Master Laneham,” said the Earl; “but seek not about to justify it. Come to Kenilworth, if you list; there will be store of fools there besides, and so you will be fitted.”
“Nay, an there be fools, my lord,” replied Laneham, with much glee, “I warrant I will make sport among them, for no greyhound loves to cote a hare as I to turn and course a fool. But I have another singular favour to beseech of your honour.”