'Come, then, let it be but a question of casuistry. Yet I fear me it will be difficult to argue without breaking bounds. Would my lord marquis now walk forth of his castle at the king's command as certainly as he will at the voice of the nation, that is, the cannons of the parliament?' 'The cannons of the cursed parliament are not the voice of the nation? Our side is the nation, not yours.' 'How provest thou that?' 'We are the better born, to begin with.' 'Ye have the more titles, I grant ye, but we have the older families. Let it be, however, that I was or am a rebel--then I can only say that in stealing--no, I will not say STEALING, for thou didst it with a different mind--all I will say is this, sir Rowland, that I should have scorned so to carry off thine or any man's horse.' 'Ah, but thou wouldst have no right, being but a rebel!' 'Bethink thee, thou must judge on my grounds when thou judgest me.' 'True; then am I driven to say thou wast made of the better earth--curse thee! I am ashamed of having taken thy mare--only because it was in a half-friendly passage with thee I learned her worth. But, hang thee! it was not through thee I learned to know my cousin, Dorothy Vaughan.' The recoiling blood stung Richard's heart like the blow of a whip, but he manned himself to answer with coolness. 'What then of her?' he said. 'Hast thou been wooing her favour, sir Rowland? Thou owest me nothing there, I admit, even had she not sent me from her. Besides, I am scarce one to be content with a mistress whose favour depended on the not coming between of some certain other, known or unknown. This I say not in pride, but because in such case I were not the right man for her, neither she the woman for me.' 'Then thou bearest me no grudge in that I have sought the prize of my cousin's heart?' 'None,' answered Richard, but could not bring himself to ask how he had sped. 'Then will I own to thee that I have gained as little. I will madden myself telling thee whom I hate, and to thy comfort, that she despises me like any Virginia slave.' 'Nay, that I am sure she doth not. She can despise nothing that is honourable.' 'Dost thou then count me honourable, Heywood?' said Scudamore, in a voice of surprise, putting forth a thin white hand, and placing it on Richard's where it lay huge and brown on the coverlid: 'Then honourable I will be.' 'And, in that resolve, art, sir Rowland.' 'I will be honourable,' repeated Scudamore, angrily, with flushing cheek, and hard yet flashing eye, 'because thou thinkest me such, although my hate would, an' it might, damn thee to lowest hell.' 'Nay, but thou wilt be honourable for honour's sake,' said Richard. 'Bethink thee, when first we met, we were but boys: now are we men, and must put away boyish things.' 'Dost call it a boyish thing to be madly in love with the fairest and noblest and bravest mistress that ever trod the earth--though she be half a puritan, alack?'