aps of stone,
Which doating sires in old age did erect.
Well, it were to be wished, that never a scholar in England might have
above forty pound a year.

SIR RADERIC.
Faith, Master Recorder, if it went by wishing, there should never an one
of them all have above twenty a year--a good stipend, a good stipend,
Master Recorder. I in the meantime, howsoever I hate them all deadly,
yet I am fain to give them good words. O, they are pestilent fellows,
they speak nothing but bodkins, and piss vinegar. Well, do what I can
in outward kindness to them, yet they do nothing but bewray my house:
as there was one that made a couple of knavish verses on my country
chimney, now in the time of my sojourning here at London; and it was
thus--
Sir Raderic keeps no chimney cavalier,
That takes tobacco above once a year.
And another made a couple of verses on my daughter, that learns to play
on the _viol-de-gambo_--
Her _viol-de-gambo_ is her best content;
For 'twixt her legs she holds her instrument.
Very knavish, very knavish, if you look into it, Master Recorder. Nay,
they have played many a knavish trick beside with me. Well, 'tis a
shame, indeed, there should be any such privilege for proud beggars as
Cambridge and Oxford are. But let them go; and if ever they light in my
hands, if I do not plague them, let me never return home again to see
my wife's waiting-maid!

RECORDER.
This scorn of knights is too egregious:
But how should these young colts prove amblers,
When the old, heavy, galled jades do trot?
There shall you see a puny boy start up,
And make a theme against common lawyers;
Then the old, unwieldy camels 'gin to dance,
This fiddling boy playing a fit of mirth;
The greybeards scrub, and laugh, and cry, _Good, good!
To them again, boy; scourge the barbarians_.
But we may give the losers leave to talk;
We have the coin, then tell them laugh for me.
Yet knights and lawyers hope to see the day,
When we may share here their possessions,
And make indentures of their chaffer'd skins,
Dice of their bones to throw in merriment.

SIR RADERIC.
O, good faith, Master Recorder, if I could see that day once?

RECORDER.
Well, remember another day what I say: scholars are pryed into of late,
and are found to be busy fellows, disturbers of the peace. I'll say no
more; guess at my meaning. I smell a rat.

SIR RADERIC.
I hope at length England will be wise enough, I hope so, i'faith; then
an old knight may have his wench in a corn