ordinary idea of an Indian prince. He wore sandals, fastened on with
ribands of scarlet silk, and held in his hand a sort of fan, such as
ladies then used, composed of the same feathers, assembled into a plume
or tuft.

"What mister wight have we here," said the Indian chief, "who dares to
tie the bells of a morrice on the ankles of a dull ass? Hark ye, friend,
your dress should make you a subject of ours, since our empire extends
over all Merryland, including mimes and minstrels of every description.
What, tongue tied? He lacks wine; minister to him our nutshell full of
sack."

A huge calabash full of sack was offered to the lips of the supplicant,
while this prince of revellers exhorted him:

"Crack me this nut, and do it handsomely, and without wry faces."

But, however Oliver might have relished a moderate sip of the same good
wine, he was terrified at the quantity he was required to deal with. He
drank a draught, and then entreated for mercy.

"So please your princedom, I have yet far to go, and if I were to
swallow your Grace's bounty, for which accept my dutiful thanks, I
should not be able to stride over the next kennel."

"Art thou in case to bear thyself like a galliard? Now, cut me a
caper--ha! one--two--three--admirable. Again--give him the spur (here a
satellite of the Indian gave Oliver a slight touch with his sword). Nay,
that is best of all: he sprang like a cat in a gutter. Tender him the
nut once more; nay, no compulsion, he has paid forfeit, and deserves not
only free dismissal but reward. Kneel down--kneel, and arise Sir Knight
of the Calabash! What is thy name? And one of you lend me a rapier."

"Oliver, may it please your honour--I mean your principality."

"Oliver, man. Nay, then thou art one of the 'douze peers' already, and
fate has forestalled our intended promotion. Yet rise up, sweet Sir
Oliver Thatchpate, Knight of the honourable order of the Pumpkin--rise
up, in the name of nonsense, and begone about thine own concerns, and
the devil go with thee!"

So saying, the prince of the revels bestowed a smart blow with the flat
of the weapon across the bonnet maker's shoulders, who sprung to his
feet with more alacrity of motion than he had hitherto displayed, and,
accelerated by the laugh and halloo which arose behind him, arrived at
the smith's house before he stopped, with the same speed with which a
hunted fox makes for his den.

It was not till the affrighted bonnet maker had stru