sarsenets

Updated: March 13, 2026

"Slit your throat, and spoil your Sunday's quavering, Sir Clerk," said Lambourne fiercely; "cudgel you, my worshipful dealer in flimsy sarsenets, into one of your own bales." "Come, come," said the host, interposing, "I will have no swaggering here.

Sir Walter Scott - Kenilworth