Not only the relationship subsisting between More and the Rastells, but the peculiar tone and cast of the tales, long since induced me to speculate on the possible concern of the author of _Utopia_ in their production; and every one is aware that More was noted for his pleasant and facetious conversation, although it may not be so generally familiar that he signalised himself as a versifier, and as the writer of the droll tale of the tipstaff who tried to pass himself off as a friar. Yet of course there is not a tittle of direct evidence in this direction; and, again, it is impossible to avoid the persuasion that not indeed the mere fatherlessness of the work or absence of a name on the title, but the complete silence of the biographers and literary critics of and after the time on this point, tell against the idea. On the other hand, the official position of More, in an even greater measure than his religious tenets as a strict upholder of the Romish hierarchy, made the open association of his name with an enterprise so uncomplimentary to the Catholic priesthood eminently impolitic and inexpedient either as actual part of the title or as mere matter of hearsay. But if it was not More himself, it was a person of congenial temperament, of whose identity he must have had some shrewd hint from the printer, and who had no taste for literary notoriety or for the ordinary bookseller’s garnish in the way of seductive forefronts. For a title-page more laconic and uncommercial was probably never bestowed on a book of the kind. [Illustration] CHAPTER XIII. THE “HUNDRED MERRY TALES”--THE AUTHORSHIP DISCUSSED. There is, however, a second hypothesis bearing on the parentage of the _Tales_. In the _Interlude of the Four Elements_, which came from the same press a few years before, there is the following passage:-- _Sensual Appetite._ Canst get my master a dish of quails, Small birds, swallows, or wagtails? They be light of digestion. _Taverner._ Light of digestion? For what reason? _Sen._ For physic putteth this reason thereto, Because those birds fly to and fro, And be continual moving. _Ta._ Then know I a lighter meat than that. _Sen._ I pray thee, tell me what? _Ta._ If ye will needs know in short and brief, It is even a woman’s tongue, For that is ever stirring.