“Humph! The maids have come, then?”

He nodded. “There’s a goodly ship down there, with a goodly lading.”

“Videlicet, some fourscore waiting damsels and milkmaids, warranted honest by my Lord Warwick,” I muttered.

“This business hath been of Edwyn Sandys’ management, as you very well know,” he rejoined, with some heat. “His word is good: therefore I hold them chaste. That they are fair I can testify, having seen them leave the ship.”

“Fair and chaste,” I said, “but meanly born.”

“I grant you that,” he answered. “But after all, what of it? Beggars must not be choosers.