nce. "`Brain cold and wet!' when didst thou
handle thy brains, that thou shouldst know whether they be cold or not?"
"I do ensure you, Aunt, thus saith Dr Barclay, one of the first
physicians in London town, which useth this tobago for all these
diseases. He only saith 'tis not to be touched with food, or after it,
but must be took fasting. Moreover, it helps the digestion."
"It'll not help mine. And prithee, Mr Aubrey Louvaine, which of all
this list of disorders hast thou?"
"I, Aunt? Oh, I'm well enough."
"Dear heart! When I am well enough, I warrant you, I take no physic."
"Oh, but, Aunt, 'tis not physic only. 'Tis rare comforting and
soothing."
Aunt Temperance's face was a sight to see. She looked Aubrey over from
the crown of his head to his boots, till his face flushed red, though he
tried to laugh it away.
"Soothing!" said she in a long-drawn indescribable tone. "Lettice,
prithee tell me what year we be now in?"
"In the year of our Lord 1603, Aunt," said Lettice, trying not to laugh.
"Nay," answered she, "that cannot be: for my nephew, Aubrey Louvaine,
was born in the year of our Lord 1583, and he is yet, poor babe, in the
cradle, and needs rocking and hushing a-by-bye. S-o-o-t-h-i-n-g!" and
Aunt Temperance drew out the word in a long cry, for all the world like
a whining baby. "Lad, if you desire not the finest thrashing ever you
had yet, cast down that drivelling folly of a silver toy, and turn up
your sleeves and go to work like a man! When you lie abed ill of the
smallpox you may say you want soothing, and no sooner: and if I hear
such another word out of your mouth, I'll leather you while I can stand
over you."
Aunt Temperance marched to the parlour door, and flung it wide open.
"Madam," said she, "give me leave to introduce to your Ladyship the King
of Fools. I go forth to buy a cradle for him, and Edith, prithee run to
the kitchen and dress him some pap. He lacks soothing, Madam; and
having been brought so low as to seek it, poor fool, at the hands of the
evillest-smelling weed ever was plucked off a dunghill, I am moved to
crave your Ladyship's kindliness for him. Here's his rattle,"--and Aunt
Temperance held forth the silver pipe,--"which lacks but the bells to be
as rare a fool's staff as I have seen of a summer day.--Get thee in,
thou poor dizard dolt! [Note 1] to think that I should have to call
such a patch my cousin!"
Lady Louvaine sat, looking first at Aubr
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