THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY
for want of sense. But we, though we hear these people so declaring in their pride that our Round Table is nothing more than a Roman shambles or slaughter-house, merely shrug up our shoulders, smile under our beards, and utter some quaint saying as to the foolishness of men talking about a place to which they have never been, or at least do not understand in the smallest degree. But by the Oar and the Stillions! by the Spigot and the Pitch! these stupid persons are not worthy of a seat in the Greyhound nor the Salmons neither; nor should they be allowed so much as to cross the boundaries of the Land of the Moon, lest they make us as dull and dismal as they themselves always are and always have been. But, if you wish to learn a little Silurian wisdom, go any day to Uske, and spend a few hours and a little money at the Salmons, taking the seat between the fire and the window which looks out on a fair open place, where there is always some pleasantry or racy galliardise on foot. Then you shall go to the Boar's Head, and there they will give you all you want, whatever it may be or how much so ever of it you require at their hands. 'Tis the first degree in Cervisage, and so you must go on, till the fame of your deeds and conversation come to the ears of the High Court, who will in due course issue the writ, Bene, Bene, Bene Bibere, and cite you to their Petty Sessions. It may be that I have said too much of the customs of Cervisage, and am growing somewhat wearisome; but, by the Bottomless Vat! I have looked so long into the Tankard that it is still
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