Take me, I pray you, rightly."
"Why said ye he was rustic, Joan?" the girl inquired. "I warrant
he hath a tongue in his head; ready, soft, and bold is his speech
at pleasure. What would ye more?"
"Nay," sighed Joanna, with a smile, "they have changed me my friend
Dick, 'tis sure enough. When I beheld him, he was rough indeed.
But it matters little; there is no help for my hard case, and I
must still be Lady Shoreby!"
"Nay, then," said Dick, "I will even make the adventure. A friar
is not much regarded; and if I found a good fairy to lead me up, I
may find another belike to carry me down. How call they the name
of this spy?"
"Rutter," said the young lady; "and an excellent good name to call
him by. But how mean ye, lion-driver? What is in your mind to
do?"
"To offer boldly to go forth," returned Dick; "and if any stop me,
to keep an unchanged countenance, and say I go to pray for Rutter.
They will be praying over his poor clay even now."
"The device is somewhat simple," replied the girl, "yet it may
hold.
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