Part 17 (1/2)
”Uh! yer honour, Oi would not repate his insults fer the wourld
Indade its ashamed o' moysilf Oi am fer not crackin' his skull with moy fist, fer what he said o' thee The raison Oi did not, was because Oi feared to do it without thoine order Do but say the wourd and he is a corpse, sor”
”No, do the knave no harm, Michael; for it should but cause thy death
Indeed thou art right, he is a disgrace to knighthood; still, he is a friend of eance would fall on thee”
”Sure methinks his lordshi+p should thank me fer riddin' hi of his shoulders which clearly showed his contempt for Catesby
”But did he question thee any further?” I asked
”Did he quistion me anny further, yer honour? Hivins, sor! Oi should think he did that same,” said Michael with a force that left no room for doubt in my mind
”'Uh!' sez he, whin he had stopped his foul talk about thee, sor; 'Oi belave thou hast jist ridden froh he had anny roight to call an honest its other folks its excoited loike,” added Michael with prodigious soleh, despite the anxiety I felt about this matter
”'Northah Oi had nivir heard o' sich a place
”'Didst thou not roide fro?” sez he
”'From whare, sor?' sez Oi
”'From Ludlow, thou stoopid varlet,' sez he; and he raised his hand as though he filt loike hittin' me a blow on the ear
”'Uh! yer honour,' sez Oi, 'it's makin' sport o' poor common souldier thou art doin' Hivin knows, sor, whare that place ye spake o' may be; but fer moy part, yer honour, Oi nivir heard o' it afore'
”'Oi know not what to make o' thee,' sez he, after he had stood a starin' at ht brathe about the quarter o' a score o' toimes
”'Mither-o'-Gawd!' sez Oi, a prayin' loike, 'dount lit hi loike hissilf'”
This was too much for Harleston He lay doubled up in his chair like a wizzled leaf in the fall of the year, and shaking as though the leaf he resembled was an aspen He made no sound, but I could see it was all that he could do to refrain fro forth into one roar
”Go on, Michael,” said I, when I had so with pent up laughter, ”What did he then say?”
”Uh! sure sor, he saw that Oi was but a poor fool, and that he could not git anny news out o' ed his shoulders loike a damned Frinchh he didn't knohither to belave me or not”
”Ah, Michael, thou art indeed a true soldier and a faithful servant
From this time forth I do desire thee to attend me as my squire In field of battle, or in the lists, do thou attend er arht, Bradley,” said Harleston, with a hearty warmth, ”and hadst thou not made this man the offer that thou hast just made I would have asked him to serve me”
Poor Michael stood speechless before us First would he look at me, and then to my friend He could not speak his thanks in words; but he did it with such an eloquence by his looks as had been reatest favour in my power But I believe to this day that I could not have better pleased hih Chancellor
”But, sor,” said Michael, when he had somewhat recovered himself, and knelt and, despite mine efforts to prevent him, kissed my hand, ”Oi 'am not wourthy o' sich an honour Sure, sor, Oi can lay on a hard blow and sich loike, but as fer attindin' on a gintlemin, in a proper way loike, uh! bad luck to race to thee, sor”