“My lord, this is a poor mad soul: and she says up and down the town that her eldest son is like you: she hath been in good case, and the truth is poverty hath distracted her.” I have said that I decline giving an opinion as to the foundation of this report. I will only say, now, that the Lord Chief Justice had no better reply to make to it than a quibble. _He did not contradict it. Moreover, he suddenly became civil to Sir John Falstaff, and recommended a friendly compromise_. Curious, was it not? Sir John Falstaff took Mrs. Quickly aside. The result of their _tête-à-tête_ was an almost momentary reconciliation, proving the shallowness of the artificial soil on which the exotic plant of the hostess’s animosity had been forced by the subtle devices of her legal adviser, _whoever that may have been_. Scarcely fifty seconds had elapsed, and ere the same number of words could have passed between them, the following colloquial fragment was audible:-- Sin John Falstaff.--As I am a gentleman. Mistress Helen Quickly.--Nay, you said so before-- Sir John Falstaff.--As I am a gentleman; come, no more words of it. Mistress Helen Quickly.--By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my dining chambers. The Knight---Glasses, glasses is the only drinking; and for thy walls,--a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work is worth a thousand of those bed-hangings and those fly-bitten tapestries. _Let it be ten pound if thou canst_. Come, an it were not fur thy humours, there is not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw thy action. Come, thou must not be in this humour with me; dost not know me? Come, come, I know thou wast set on to this. The Lady.--Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles; i’ faith I am loath to pawn my plate in good earnest, la! The Brave.--Let it alone; I’ll make other shift; you’ll be a fool still. The Fair.--Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope you’ll come to supper. You’ll pay me altogether? The Invincible.--Will I live? [Illustration: 167] And what was the upshot of this colloquy? Simply that Mrs. Quickly returned placidly to her home, under the friendly convoy of Bardolph and Robin, the former commissioned by his master to look well after the poor lady, and to see that no designing persons should a second time wean her from obeying the dictates of her better nature. It is worthy of remark that Mrs. Quickly did not say so much as “good morning” to the Lord Chief Justice. I suppose there was some motive for this, as for every other impulse of human action. For my part, I will maintain that course of dispassionate reserve I have so scrupulously adhered to throughout this trying inquiry, and offer no opinion whatever on the subject.