"I have heard it said, noble earl, that the stoutest hand can scarcely
lift your battle-axe."

"Fables! romaunt!" answered the earl, smiling; "there it lies,--go
and lift it."

Marmaduke went to the table, and, though with some difficulty, raised
and swung this formidable weapon.

"By my halidame, well swung, cousin mine! Its use depends not on the
strength, but the practice. Why, look you now, there is the boy
Richard of Gloucester, who comes not up to thy shoulder, and by dint
of custom each day can wield mace or axe with as much ease as a jester
doth his lathesword. Ah, trust me, Marmaduke, the York House is a
princely one; and if we must have a king, we barons, by stout Saint
George, let no meaner race ever furnish our lieges. But to thyself,
Marmaduke--what are thy views and thy wishes?"

"To be one of thy following, noble Warwick."

"I thank and accept thee, young Nevile; but thou hast heard that I am
about to leave England, and in the mean time thy youth would run
danger without a guide." The earl paused a moment, and resumed: "My
brother of Montagu showed thee cold countenance; but a word from me
will win thee his grace and favour. What sayest thou, wilt thou be
one of his gentlemen? If so, I will tell thee the qualities a man
must have,--a discreet tongue, a quick eye, the last fashion in hood
and shoe-bobbins, a perfect seat on thy horse, a light touch for the
gittern, a voice for a love-song, and--"