Do you not hear them low?
Do you not hear them bleat?
A yoke of fat oxen, and half a score prime wethers.

The Castle is victualled for this bout, let them storm when they will; and Gatherill may have his d--d mains ploughed to the boot." The lady, without farther questioning her elated domestic, rose and went to the window, where she certainly beheld the oxen and sheep which had given rise to Whitaker's exultation.

"Whence come they ?" said she, in some surprise.
"Let them construe that who can," answered Whitaker; "the fellow who drove them was a west-country man, and only said they came from a friend to help to furnish out your ladyship's entertainment; the man would not stay to drink--I am sorry he would not stay to drink--I crave your ladyship's pardon for not keeping him by the ears to drink--it was not my fault." "That I'll be sworn it was not," said the lady.
"Nay, madam, by G--, I assure you it was not," said the zealous steward; "for, rather than the Castle should lose credit, I drank his health myself in double ale, though I had had my morning draught already.

I tell you the naked truth, my lady, by G--!" "It was no great compulsion, I suppose," said the lady; "but, Whitaker, suppose you should show your joy on such occasions, by drinking and swearing a little less, rather than a little more, would it not be as well, think you ?" "I crave your ladyship's pardon," said Whitaker, with much reverence; "I hope I know my place.

I am your ladyship's poor servant; and I know it does not become me to drink and swear like your ladyship--that is, like his honour, Sir Geoffrey, I would say.