The worthy merchant seeing him of a personable body, and an ingenious
aspect howsoever both were clouded under a rustick habit, began somewhat
to commiserate his estate, and knocking for a servant had him take in
that fellow and give him such victuals as the house for the present
afforded, and at his return he would have further conference with him.
The servant did as he was commanded and took him in.
The merchant went then to the Exchange, which was then in Lumber Street,
about his affairs; in which intrim (_sic_) poor Whittington was hied
into the kitchin to warm himself, for faintness by reason of hunger and
cold (for it was then in the winter time) had quite rob'd him of his
colour. Meat was set before him in plenty, and being bred in the
country, as the proverb goeth, _He fed like a farmer_, and having
satisfied himself sufficiently and warm'd him to the full, a fresh
colour began to come into his cheeks: at which the Merchant's daughter
(hearing of a new come guest) came into the kitchin, and began to
question him of divers things concerning the country, to all which he
gave her such modest and sensible answers that she took a great liking
unto him, and so left him.
Dinner time came, and Master Fitzwarren (for so was the merchant called)
came home with a good stomach, and brought a friend or two with him from
the Exchange; down they sat to meat, and had speech of many things at
the table; meanwhile the servants were set also at dinner, who would
needs have Whittington, though he had so lately broke his fast, to keep
them company, some of them delighting in his country speech, others
deriding his supposed simplicity.
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