asted I better than out of this
beggar's wallet, now my master. When we had well eaten I was for going
on. 'But,' said he, 'servants should not drive their masters too hard,
especially after feeding, for then the body is for repose, and the mind
turns to contemplation;' and he lay on his back gazing calmly at the
sky, and presently wondered whether there were any beggars up there.
I told him I knew but of one, called Lazarus. 'Could he do the cul de
jatte better than I?' said he, and looked quite jealous like. I told him
nay; Lazarus was honest, though a beggar, and fed daily of the crumbs
fal'n from a rich man's table, and the dogs licked his sores. 'Servant,'
quo' he, 'I spy a foul fault in thee. Thou liest without discretion: now
the end of lying being to gull, this is no better than fumbling with the
divell's tail. I pray Heaven thou mayest prove to paint better than thou
cuttest whids, or I am done out of a dinner. No beggar eats crumbs, but
only the fat of the land; and dogs lick not a beggar's sores, being made
with spearwort, or ratsbane, or biting acids, from all which dogs, and
even pigs, abhor. My sores are made after my proper receipt; but no dog
would lick e'en them twice. I have made a scurvy bargain: art a cozening
knave, I doubt, as well as a nincompoop.' I deigned no reply to this
bundle of lies, which did accuse heavenly truth of falsehood for not
being in a tale with him. He rose and we took the road; and presently
we came to a place where were two little wayside inns, scarce a furlong
apart. 'Halt,' said my master. 'Their armories are sore faded--all the
better. Go thou in; shun the master; board the wife; and flatter her inn
sky high, all but the armories, and offer to colour them dirt cheap.'
So I went in and told the wife I was a painter, and would revive her
armories cheap; but she sent me away with a rebuff. I to my master. He
groaned. 'Ye are all fingers and no tongue,' said he; 'I have made a
scurvy bargain. Come and hear me patter and flatter.' Between the two
inns was a high hedge. He goes behind it a minute and comes out a decent
tradesman. We went on to the other inn, and then I heard him praise it
so fulsome as the very wife did blush. 'But,' says he, 'there is one
little, little fault; your armories are dull and faded. Say but the
word, and for a silver franc my apprentice here, the cunningest e'er
I had, shall make them bright as ever. Whilst she hesitated, the rogue
told her he had done