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So the throng moved on,
until at the very gate it was brought to a stand by a wondrously
fat man, who came darting forth from the town with rage in every
feature of his rubicund face.
"How now, Sir Mayor?" he roared, in a voice like a bull. "How
now, Sir Mayor? How of the clams and the scallops?"
"By Our Lady! my sweet Sir Oliver," cried the mayor. "I have had
so much to think of, with these wicked villains so close upon us,
that it had quite gone out of my head."
"Words, words!" shouted the other furiously. "Am I to be put off
with words? I say to you again, how of the clams and scallops?"
"My fair sir, you flatter me," cried the mayor. "I am a peaceful
trader, and I am not wont to be so shouted at upon so small a
matter."
"Small!" shrieked the other. "Small! Clams and scallops! Ask me
to your table to partake of the dainty of the town, and when I
come a barren welcome and a bare board! Where is my spear-bearer?"
"Nay, Sir Oliver, Sir Oliver!" cried Sir Nigel, laughing.
Let your anger be appeased, since instead of this dish you come
upon an old friend and comrade.


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