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The unfortunate Dick was plunged in gloom. Old Arblaster returned upon
his mind, and he groaned aloud.
"Do ye hold me so guilty?" he said; "you that defended me--you that are
Joanna's friend?"
"What made ye in the battle?" she retorted. "Y' are of no party; y' are
but a lad--but legs and body, without government of wit or counsel!
Wherefore did ye fight? For the love of hurt, pardy!"
"Nay," cried Dick, "I know not. But as the realm of England goes, if
that a poor gentleman fight not upon the one side, perforce he must fight
upon the other. He may not stand alone; 'tis not in nature."
"They that have no judgment should not draw the sword," replied the young
lady. "Ye that fight but for a hazard, what are ye but a butcher? War
is but noble by the cause, and y' have disgraced it."
"
Madam," said the miserable Dick, "I do partly see mine error. I have
made too much haste; I have been busy before my time. Already I stole a
ship--thinking, I do swear it, to do well--and thereby brought about the
death of many innocent, and the grief and ruin of a poor old man whose
face this very day hath stabbed me like a dagger. And for this morning,
I did but design to do myself credit, and get fame to marry with, and,
behold! I have brought about the death of your dear kinsman that was good
to me. And what besides, I know not. For, alas! I may have set York
upon the throne, and that may be the worser cause, and may do hurt to
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