But he did not go in at New Gate, for, making a sharp turn
at St. Andrew's, he went south till he came to Fleet street, when,
turning to the left, he entered the city through Lud Gate. Clad in his
scullion's garb, and with his face flushed from drink he presented a
strange appearance as he permitted his horse to carry him whither he
would through the narrow streets.
"Here be people enough," he said to himself, "and yea, verily, here be
noise enough. But I will stop all that when I be Lord Mayor. What!
shall mine ears ring with vile din? If so be I would speak to my horse
could he hear me? Nay, that he could not. When I be Lord Mayor no smith
shall strike on anvil in my presence. And when I pass by, let the
carpenters cease to drive their nails; let all the armorers cease their
hammering; let the coopers forbear to hoop their casks; and then can I
gather my wits together, which is more than I can now do."
He was right as to the din; for here in these narrow lanes the
craftsmen lived and worked. Each one had his tenement of one room above
and one below. In the one below he worked, or in the street, and in the
room above he dwelt with his family.
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