KENILWORTH.
179
CHAPTER X.
There entering in, they found the goodman selfe
Full busylie unto his work ybent,
Who was to weet a wretched wearish elf,
With hollow eyes and rawbone cheeks forspent,
As if he had been long in prison pent.
The Faery Queene.
Full busylie unto his work ybent,
Who was to weet a wretched wearish elf,
With hollow eyes and rawbone cheeks forspent,
As if he had been long in prison pent.
The Faery Queene.
“Are we far from the dwelling of this smith, my pretty lad?” said Tressilian to his young guide.
“How is it you call me?” said the boy, looking askew at him with his sharp grey eyes.
“I call you my pretty lad—is there any offence in that, my boy?”
“No—but were you with my grandam and Dominie Holiday, you might sing chorus to the old song of;
‘We three
Tom-fools be,’
Tom-fools be,’
“And why so, my little man?” said Tressilian.
“Because,” answered the ugly urchin, “you are the only three ever called me pretty lad—Now my grandam does it because she is parcel blind by age, and whole blind by kindred—and my master, the poor Dominie, does it to curry favour, and have the fullest platter of furmity, and the warmest seat by
