least, faithful to his master, and spurned all the offers made him from Seva Gi, that he should take his part. Wherefore Seva Gi made a road[31] into the place, and took and plundered the town, holding it for six days, and taking from it a prodigious booty. But the English, being retired into their Factory, and using that for a citadel, did show so fierce a front, and upon occasion defend themselves so bravely, as Seva Gi was forced to leave ’em in peace. But their fair garden, lying, as I have said, outside of the city, was overrun and ruined, and was not yet recovered when I first saw it, all this happening but shortly before my coming. “But pray, sir,” says I to Mr Martin, “how can you have any comfort of life, knowing that you are all the time placed between an unjust governor and a murderous robber?” “_Beggers should be no chusers_, sir,” quoth Mr Martin. “Sure we are in better case here than under the eye of the Inquisition at Goa, or even than quarrelling with my Lord Malbery[32] and the king’s officers at Bombaim.”[33] “At the least you are your own masters here, sir,” says I. “Not so fast, if you please, sir,” says he. “Not many months ago were we held under grievous oppression by the Dutch, that would have us acknowledge ’em to be lords of the Eastern Seas. Not being contented with the most injurious conduct towards ourselves, they must needs hoist their ancient[34] above our St George’s cross, as though we were surrendered to ’em. And not a warship had we for to defend us against their injuries. Had they but had Old Noll to deal withal, he should have punished ’em first and made ’em ask pardon after.” “I trust, sir, that you an’t regretting the most fortunate death of that rebel?” said I. Mr Martin looked upon me jestingly. “_He that hath an ill name is half-hanged_, an’t he?” said he. “Old Noll was a rebel, sir, but the Dutch feared him as the very devil.” While thus discoursing, we walked to and fro in the garden, wherein had stood divers _choultries_, or summer-houses, very pleasant to take the air within, but now heaps of ruins, together with grottoes of many fantastical forms, and fountains, whereof the sound and the coolness was mighty agreeable. But the wildness of the place surprised me (though now I know that the Indian gardeners do not affect neatness and symmetry of arrangement, as do ours), nor had the ruins been cleared away, but the flowers were springing and growing up around them. And of the flowers themselves was nothing extraordinary, but only mallows and stocks and jessamines and suchlike common things, for so cursed with idleness are the lower sort here, that they won’t take the trouble even to grow roses. Nevertheless, this garden is a mighty pretty and pleasant place, and were it only better dressed and kept, might be a very paradise.