But ere many hours, Lisbon itself was tossing and heaving with the throes of dissolution. The sea arose tumultuously against the tottering city; the ground breathed fire, and quaked, and burst asunder; the houses reeled and fell, and thousands of inhabitants perished in the fall. Among them, at one dire swoop, the tenants of that happy cottage home. Together did these mortals put on immortality. And thus was the dream fulfilled. THE HOUSEHOLD OF SIR THO'S MORE.[7] LIBELLUS A MARGARETA MORE, QUINDECIM ANNOS NATA, CHELSEIÆ INCEPTVS. "Nulla dies sine linea." This morn, hinting to Bess that she was lacing herselfe too straightlie, she brisklie replyed, "One w'd think 'twere as great meritt to have a thick waiste as to be one of y'e earlie Christians!" These humourous retorts are ever at her tongue's end; and, albeit, as Jacky one day angrilie remarked, when she had beene teazing him, "Bess, thy witt is stupidnesse;" yet, for one who talks soe much at random, no one can be more keene when she chooseth. Father sayd of her, half fondly, half apologeticallie to Erasmus, "Her wit has a fine subtletie that eludes you almoste before you have time to recognize it for what it really is." To which, Erasmus readilie assented, adding, that it had y'e rare meritt of playing less on persons than things, and never on bodilie defects. Hum!--I wonder if they ever sayd as much in favour of me. I know, indeede, Erasmus calls me a forward girl. Alas! that may be taken in two senses. * * * * * Grievous work, overnighte, with y'e churning. Nought w'd persuade Gillian but that y'e creame was bewitched by Gammer Gurney, who was dissatisfyde last Friday with her dole, and hobbled away mumping and cursing. At alle events, y'e butter w'd not come; but mother was resolute not to have soe much goode creame wasted; soe sent for Bess and me, Daisy and Mercy Giggs, and insisted on our churning in turn till y'e butter came, if we sate up all nighte for't. 'Twas a hard saying; and mighte have hampered her like as Jephtha his rash vow: howbeit, soe soone as she had left us, we turned it into a frolick, and sang Chevy Chase from end to end, to beguile time; ne'erthelesse, the butter w'd not come; soe then we grew sober, and, at y'e instance of sweete Mercy, chaunted y'e 119th Psalme; and, by the time we had attayned to "Lucerna pedibus," I hearde y'e buttermilk separating and splashing in righte earneste. 'Twas neare midnighte, however; and Daisy had fallen asleep on y'e dresser. Gillian will ne'er be convinced but that our Latin brake the spell.