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"Know you Sir Percevall's friend, Lady Rebecca?" asked Elizabeth. "Why, yes, your Majesty. He and I came over together from Peltonville. I believe he's after a patent." "A patent? What mean you? Doth he ask for a patent of nobility a title? Can this be the suit of the fat knight?" "I don't know," said Rebecca. "'Tain't nothin' 'bout nobility, I'm sure, though.
"Rise, Sir Knight, and, when that we have supped, seek audience again. An the petition be in reason, 'twill not suffer for the fall you have had." With this speech, Sir Percevall's first audience ended, and it was with a happy face that he suffered himself to be helped to his feet by the four gentlemen who had first been sent to his aid.
"Your spirits sought two ways at once, Master Droop, and like any other half-minded equivocal transaction, contention was the outcome. But for the whiskey, mind you why, it hath won old Sir Percevall's heart. Zounds, man! Scarce two fingers of it, and yet I feel the wanton laugh in me a'ready. Good fellows need good company, my master! So pour me his fellow! So so!"
He turned and pointed to the mouth-piece of the instrument, which was still in Sir Percevall's hands. "Hevin' done this, you wot, this little pin-like pricketh or scratcheth the wax, an' the next time you go over the thing, there you are!" Conscious of the lameness of this explanation, Droop hurried on, hoping to forestall further questions.
For its good he held its Parliamentary representation in the hollow of his hand; and, as Overseer of the Poor, had dared public displeasure by revising the Voters' List and defying a mandamus of the Court of King's Bench rather than allow Axcester to fail in its duty of returning two members to support Mr. Percevall's Ministry.
Four gentlemen, dropping their gilt axes, hastened to Sir Percevall's aid, raising him by the arms and shoulders. "Enough enough, lads!" cried the knight, when they had got him to his knees. "Let it not be said that Sir Percevall Hart dared to tempt erect the dreadful glance of majesty. Here let him lowly bend beneath the eyes that erstwhile laid him low."
"An my Greek be not at fault," said the Queen, "this name should purport a writer of sound." Sir Percevall's face fell. He was no Greek scholar, and this query pushed him hard. Fortunately for him, Elizabeth turned to Droop as she concluded her sentence. "Hath your invention this intent, Master Droop?" she said.
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