THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY
chestnut tree. Sir Payne slept that night a happy sleep, a sleep furnished with fragments of sweet musick, snatches of quaint song, curious scents and pinnacled castles, a sleep rigged out with the most rarest dreams and illuminated with red stars. The which must be set down I suppose to the gentleman's being in love, a complaint that bears the responsibility of a good many transactions and is as needful to a tale as a nose is to a face. Depend upon it a face without a nose is no true face, it is incomplete, and the like may be said of a story that lacks love. But this matter at Uske was indeed a fine love affair, secret, ardent and well-planned from the beginning; daily calling for fresh stratagems and new meeting-places and all those counterfeits that lovers take delight in, though to be sure they are made more for show than use. Yet I suppose this couple might have learnt the alphabet together for a long time without being found out, if Payne had been content to bear his mistress company in her country walks and sunset meditations in the woods by the river. But being a young fellow of adventure, fond of dangerous places and warm corners he must needs propose a midnight interview, notwithstanding that he knew well enough Sir Rowland's sharp ways and his dislike of uninvited guests. Alianor received this plan with a shake of the head at first, but before long became convinced that it would be rather pleasant, and at last agreed to Payne's desire. This was dead against the counsel of her maid who affirmed that such meetings often led to bad blood, cuts, slashes, and strong
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