The young man bent his knee to his uncle and bowed low to the magister. Being about the court, he had for Udal's learning and office a reverence that neither the printer nor his grandfather could share. He unfastened his grey cloak at the neck and cast it into a corner after his hat. His figure flashed out, lithe, young, a blaze of scarlet with a crowned rose embroidered upon a chest rendered enormous by much wadding. He was serving his apprenticeship as ensign in the gentlemen of the King's guard, and because his dead father had been beloved by the Duke of Norfolk it was said that his full ensigncy was near. He begged his grandfather's leave to come near the fire, and stood with his legs apart. 'The new Queen's come to Rochester,' he said; 'I am here with the guard to take the heralds to Greenwich Palace.' The printer looked at him unfavourably from the corner of his dark and gloomy eyes. 'You come to suck up more money,' he said moodily. 'There is none in this house.' 'As Mary is my protectress!' the boy laughed, 'there is!' He stuck his hands into his breeches pocket and pulled out a big fistful of crowns that he had won over-night at dice, and a long and thin Flemish chain of gold. 'I have enow to last me till the thaw,' he said. 'I came to beg my grandfather's blessing on the first day of the year.' 'Dicing ... Wenching ...' the printer muttered. 'If I ask thee for no blessing,' the young man said, 'it's because, uncle, thou'rt a Lutheran that can convey none. Where's Margot? This chain's for her.' 'The fair Margot's locked in her chamber,' Udal snickered. 'Why-som-ever then? Hath she stolen a tart?' 'Nay, but I would have her in wedlock.' 'Thou--you--your magistership?' the boy laughed incredulously. The printer caught in his tone his courtier's contempt for the artificer's home, and his courtier's reverence for the magister's learning. 'Keep thy sister from beneath this fox's tooth,' he said. 'The likes of him mate not with the like of us.' 'The like of thee, uncle?' the boy retorted, with a good-humoured insolence. 'My father was a gentleman.' 'Who married my sister for her small money, and died leaving thee and thy sister to starve.' 'Nay, I starve not,' the boy said. 'And Margot's a plump faggot.' 'A very Cynthia among willow-trees,' the magister said. 'Why, your magistership shall have her,' the boy said. 'I am her lawful guardian.' His grandfather laughed as men laugh to see a colt kick up its heels in a meadow. But the printer waved his bare arm furiously at the magister. 'Get thee gone out of this decent house.' His eyes rolled, and his clenched fist was as large as a ham. 'Here you come not a-wenching.' 'Moody man,' the magister said, 'your brains are addled with suspicions.' The young man swelled his scarlet breast still more consequentially. 'This is no house of thine, uncle, but my grandfar's.' 'Young ass's colt!' the printer fulminated. 'Would'st have thy sister undone by this Latin mouth-mincer?'