Which are all hanging in the hall:'—
'They're old,' he said, 'so take them all.'
—I bow'd and took them to my keeping;
Snub in my wardrobe they are sleeping.
It is the same, I know it well,
You of your Lady have to tell:
I doubt not but your hoard encreases
Of Spencers, mantles and pelisses:
But let it be out mutual boast
That sage precaution rules the roast;