'Oh buxom one!' he answered. 'Of a comfortable birth and girth thou
art. Yet with thee around my neck I might not easily climb.'

'Magister,' she said, 'whilst thou climbest in London town thy wife
will bide in Paris.'

'Consider!' he said. 'There is in London town a fair, large maid
called Margot Poins.'

'Is she more fair than I?' she asked. 'I will swear she is.'

He tilted his stool forward.

'No; no, I swear it,' he said eagerly.

'Then I will swear she is more large.'

'No; not one half so bounteous is her form,' he answered, and moved
across to the couch.

'Then if you can bear her weight up you can bear mine,' she said, and
moved away from him.

'Nay,' he answered. 'She would help me on,' and he fumbled in the
shadows for her hand. She drew herself together into a small space.

'You affect her more than me,' she said, with a swift motion
simulating jealousy.

'By the breasts of Venus, no!' he answered.

'Oh, once more use such words,' she murmured, and surrendered to him
her soft hand. He rubbed it between both of his cold ones and uttered:

'By the Paphian Queen: by her teams of doves and sparrows! By the
bower of Phyllis and the girdle of Egypt's self! I love thee!'

She gurgled 'oh's' of pleasure.

'But this Margot Poins is tirewoman to the Lady Katharine Howard.'

'I am tirewoman to mine own self alone,' she said. 'Therefore you love
her better.'

'Nay, oh nay,' he said gently. 'But this Lady Katharine Howard is
mistress to the King's self.'

'And I have been mistress to no married man save my husbands,' she
answered. 'Therefore you love this Margot Poins better.'

He fingered her soft palm and rubbed it across his own neck.

'Nay, nay,' he said. 'But I must wed with Margot Poins.'

'Why with her more than with me or any other of your score and seven?'
she said softly.

'Since the Lady Katharine will be Queen,' he answered, and once again
he was close against her side. She sighed softly.

'Thus if you wed with me you will never be Chancellor,' she said.

'I would not anger the Queen,' he answered. She nestled bountifully
and warmly against him.

'Swear even again that you like me more than the fair, large wench in
London town,' she whispered against his ear.

'Even as Jove prized Danae above the Queen of Heaven, even as
Narcissus prized his shadow above all the nymphs, even as Hercules
placed Omphale above his strength, or even as David the King of the
Jews Bathsheba abo