THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY
Lattice to an end; and we clapped our hands, for we had relished it mightily all through, and thought it might compare with the story of Abergavenny told by Master Ambrose. The musicians praised it also to excess, for they had not heard anything quite like this before; though I should suspect that some fine strokes were lost upon them. And while we were discussing and pointing out to these good fellows the beauties and Silurian wisdom of the relation, we began to wonder at the marvellous art and grammar of the old wizard, who was able to perform such a magistery. All of us agreed that there is no such work done in our days, and Mosca said, "If you, sir, had not so clearly and evidently shown the matter to us, I should have thought this a thing impossible to men." "Why, signor," answered Nick, "you must know that it is not altogether of faith to believe the story, though I myself credit it entirely; as I do everything set forth and approved by the good judge Guillaume; and he it is plain believed every word of Sir Philip's deposition, or else had not granted him pardon. But I must in honesty tell you there is another account of the affair done at the House with the Lattice; the source of which is the mouths of evil-speakers, who are always ready to spit upon dead men's graves and to defile honourable families. These fellows tell us that Sir Philip was a profligate and idle rascal, my sweet Edith a harebrained foolish wench, and Maurice Torlesse an honest grave gentleman, who with much ado tried to keep his daughter a virtuous woman. And they declare that Sir
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