"I have none of these save the horsemanship, gracious my lord; and if
thou wilt not receive me thyself, I will not burden my Lord of Montagu
and Northumberland."

"Hot and quick! No! John of Montagu would not suit thee, nor thou
him. But how to provide for thee till my return I know not."

"Dare I not hope, then, to make one of your embassage, noble earl?"

Warwick bent his brows, and looked at him in surprise. "Of our
embassage! Why, thou art haughty, indeed! Nay, and so a soldier's
son and a Nevile should be! I blame thee not; but I could not make
thee one of my train, without creating a hundred enemies--to me (but
that's nothing) and to thee, which were much. Knowest thou not that
there is scarce a gentleman of my train below the state of a peer's
son, and that I have made, by refusals, malcontents eno', as it is?--
Yet, bold! there is my learned brother, the Archbishop of York.
Knowest thou Latin and the schools?"

"'Fore Heaven, my lord," said the Nevile, bluntly, "I see already I
had best go back to green Westmoreland, for I am as unfit for his
grace the archbishop as I am for my Lord Montagu."

"Well, then," said the earl, dryly, "since thou hast not yet station
enough for my train, nor glosing for Northumberland, nor wit and lere
for the archbishop, I suppose, my poor youth, I must e'en make you
only a gentleman about the king! It is not a post so sure of quick
rising and full gipsires as one about myself or my brethren, but it
will be less envied, and is good for thy first essay. How goes the
clock? Oh, here is Nick Alwyn's new horologe. He tells me that the