_Sir Oliver_.--How many saints and Sions dost carry under thy cloak,
lad? Ay, what dost groan at? What art about to be delivered of? Troth,
it must be a vast and oddly-shapen piece of roguery which findeth no
issue at such capacious quarters. I never thought to see thy face again.
Prythee what, in God's name, hath brought thee to Ramsey, fair Master
Oliver?
_Oliver_.--In His name verily I come, and upon His errand; and the love
and duty I bear unto my godfather and uncle have added wings, in a sort,
unto my zeal.
_Sir Oliver_.--Take 'em off thy zeal and dust thy conscience with 'em. I
have heard an account of a saint, one Phil Neri, who in the midst of his
devotions was lifted up several yards from the ground. Now I do suspect,
Nol, thou wilt finish by being a saint of his order; and nobody will
promise or wish thee the luck to come down on thy feet again, as he did.
So! because a rabble of fanatics at Huntingdon have equipped thee as
their representative in Parliament, thou art free of all men's houses,
forsooth! I would have thee to understand, sirrah, that thou art fitter
for the house they have chaired thee unto than for mine. Yet I do not
question but thou wilt be as troublesome and unruly there as here. Did I
not turn thee out of Hinchinbrook when thou wert scarcely half the rogue
thou art latterly grown up to? And yet wert thou immeasurably too big a
one for it to hold.
_Oliver_.--It repenteth me, O mine uncle! that in my boyhood and youth
the Lord had not touched me.
_Sir Oliver_.--Touch thee! thou wast too dirty a dog by half.
_Oliver_.--Yea, sorely doth it vex and harrow me that I was then of ill
conditions, and that my name--even your godson's--stank in your
nostrils.
_Sir Oliver_.--Ha! polecat! it was not thy name, although bad enough,
that stank first; in my house, at least.[13] But perhaps there are worse
maggots in stauncher mummeries.
_Oliver_.--Whereas in the bowels of your charity you then vouchsafed me
forgiveness, so the more confidently may I crave it now in this my
urgency.
_Sir Oliver_.--More confidently! What! hast got more confidence? Where
didst find it? I never thought the wide circle of the world had within
it another jot for thee. Well, Nol, I see no reason why thou shouldst
stand before me with thy hat off, in the courtyard and in the sun,
counting the stones of the pavement. Thou hast some knavery in thy head,
I warrant thee. Come, put on thy beaver.
_Oliver_.--Uncle Sir Oliver! I know my duty too well to stand covered
in the presence of so worshipful a kinsman, who, moreover, hath answered
at baptism for my good behaviour.
_Sir Oliver_.--God forgive me for playing the fool before Him so
presumptuously and unprofitably! Nobody shall ever take me in again to
do such an absurd and wicked thing. But thou hast some left-hand
business in the neighbourhood, no doubt, or thou wouldst never more have
come under my archway.
_Oliver_.--These are hard times for them that seek peace. We are clay in
the hand of the potter.
_Sir Oliver_.--I wish your potters sought nothing costlier, and dug in
their own grounds for it. Most of us, as thou sayest, have been upon the
wheel of these artificers; and little was left but rags when we got off.
Sanctified folks are the cleverest skinners in all Christendom, and
their Jordan tans and constringes us to the averdupoise of mummies.
_Oliver_.--The Lord hath chosen his own vessels.
_Sir Oliver_.--I wish heartily He would pack them off, and send them
anywhere on ass-back or cart, (cart preferably,) to rid our country of
'em. But now again to the point: for if we fall among the potsherds we
shall hobble on but lamely. Since thou art raised unto a high command in
the army, and hast a dragoon to hold yonder thy solid and stately piece
of horse-flesh, I cannot but take it into my fancy that thou hast some
commission of array or disarray to execute hereabout.
_Oliver_.--With a sad sinking of spirit, to the pitch well-nigh of
swounding, and with a sight of bitter tears, which will not be put back
nor staid in anywise, as you bear testimony unto me, uncle Oliver.
_Sir Oliver_.--No tears, Master Nol, I beseech thee! Thou never art more
pery than when it rains with thee. Wet days, among those of thy kidney,
portend the letting of blood. What dost whimper at?
_Oliver_.--That I, that I, of all men living, should be put upon this
work!
_Sir Oliver_.--What work, prythee?
_Oliver_.--I am sent hither by them who (the Lord in his loving-kindness
having pity and mercy upon these poor realms) do, under his right hand,
administer unto our necessities and righteously command us, _by the
aforesaid as aforesaid_ (thus runs the commission) hither am I deputed
(woe is me!) to levy certain fines in this county, or shire, on such as
the Parliament in its wisdom doth style malignants.
_Sir Oliver_.--If there is anything left about the house, never be over
nice: dismiss thy modesty and lay hands upon it. In this county or
shire, we let go the civet-bag to save the weazon.
_Oliver_.--O mine uncle and godfather! be witness for me.
_Sir Oliver_.--Witness for thee! not I indeed. But I would rather be
witness than surety, lad, where thou art docketed.
_Oliver_.--From the most despised doth the Lord ever choose his
servants.
_Sir Oliver_.--Then, faith! thou art his first butler.
_Oliver_.--Serving Him with humility, I may peradventure be found worthy
of advancement.
_Sir Oliver_.--Ha! now if any devil speaks from within thee, it is thy
own: he does not sniffle: to my ears he speaks plain English. Worthy or
unworthy of advancement, thou wilt attain it. Come in; at least for an
hour's rest. Formerly thou knewest the means of setting the heaviest
heart afloat, let it be sticking in what mud-bank it might: and my
wet-dock at Ramsey is pretty near as commodious as that over-yonder at
Hinchinbrook was erewhile. Times are changed, and places too! yet the
cellar holds good.
_Oliver_.--Many and great thanks! But there are certain men on the other
side of the gate, who might take it ill if I turn away and neglect them.
_Sir Oliver_.--Let them enter also, or eat their victuals where they
are.
_Oliver_.--They have proud stomachs: they are recusants.
_Sir Oliver_.--Recusants of what? of beef and ale? We have claret, I
trust, for the squeamish, if they are above the condition of
tradespeople. But of course you leave no person of higher quality in the
outer court.
_Oliver_.--Vain are they and worldly, although such wickedness is the
most abominable in their cases. Idle folks are fond of sitting in the
sun: I would not forbid them this indulgence.
_Sir Oliver_.--But who are they?
_Oliver_.--The Lord knows. May-be priests, deacons, and such like.
_Sir Oliver_.--Then, sir, they are gentlemen. And the commission you
bear from the parliamentary thieves, to sack and pillage my
mansion-house, is far less vexatious and insulting to me, than your
behaviour in keeping them so long at my stable-door. With your
permission, or without it, I shall take the liberty to invite them to
partake of my poor hospitality.
_Oliver_.--But, uncle Sir Oliver! there are rules and ordinances whereby
it must be manifested that they lie under displeasure--not mine--not
mine--but my milk must not flow for them.
_Sir Oliver_.--You may enter the house or remain where you are at your
option; I make my visit to these gentlemen immediately, for I am tired
of standing. If thou ever reachest my age,[14] Oliver! (but God will not
surely let this be,) thou wilt know that the legs become at last of
doubtful fidelity in the service of the body.
_Oliver_.--Uncle Sir Oliver! now that, as it seemeth, you have been
taking a survey of the courtyard and its contents, am I indiscreet in
asking your worship whether I acted not prudently in keeping the
_men-at-belly_ under the custody of the _men-at-arms_? This pestilence,
like unto one I remember to have read about in some poetry of Master
Chapman's,[15] began with the dogs and the mules, and afterwards crope
up into the breasts of men.
_Sir Oliver_.--I call such treatment barbarous; their troopers will not
let the gentlemen come with me into the house, but insist on sitting
down to dinner with them. And yet, having brought them out of their
colleges, these brutal half-soldiers must know that they are fellows.
_Oliver_.--Yea, of a truth are they, and fellows well met. Out of their
superfluities they give nothing to the Lord or his Saints; no, not even
stirrup or girth, wherewith we may mount our horses and go forth against
those who thirst for our blood. Their eyes are fat, and they raise not
up their voices to cry for our deliverance.
_Sir Oliver_.--Art mad? What stirrups and girths are hung up in college
halls and libraries? For what are these gentlemen brought hither?
_Oliver_.--They have elected me, with somewhat short of unanimity, not
indeed to be one of themselves, for of that distinction I acknowledge
and deplore my unworthiness, nor indeed to be a poor scholar, to which,
unless it be a very poor one, I have almost as small pretension, but
simply to undertake awhile the heavier office of burser for them, to
cast up their accounts; to overlook the scouring of their plate; and to
lay a list thereof, with a few specimens, before those who fight the
fight of the Lord, that his Saints, seeing the abasement of the proud
and the chastisement of worldlymindedness, may rejoice.
_Sir Oliver_.--I am grown accustomed to such saints and such rejoicings.
But, little could I have thought, threescore years ago, that the hearty
and jovial people of England would ever join in so filching and stabbing
a jocularity. Even the petticoated torch-bearers from rotten Rome, who
lighted the faggots in Smithfield some years before, if more blustering
and cocksy, were less bitter and vulturine. They were all intolerant,
but they were not all hypocritical; they had not always "_the Lord_" in
their mouths.
_Oliver_.--According to their own notions, they might have had at an
outlay of a farthing.
_Sir Oliver_.--Art facetious, Nol? for it is as hard to find that out as
any thing else in thee, only it makes thee look, at times, a little the
grimmer and sourer.
But, regarding these gentlemen from Cambridge. Not being such as, by
their habits and professions, could have opposed you in the field, I
hold it unmilitary and unmanly to put them under any restraint, and so
lead them away from their peaceful and useful occupations.
_Oliver_.--I alway bow submissively before the judgment of mine elders;
and the more reverentially when I know them to be endowed with greater
wisdom, and guided by surer experience than myself. Alas! those
collegians not only are strong men, as you may readily see if you
measure them round the waistband, but boisterous and pertinacious
challengers. When we, who live in the fear of God, exhorted them
earnestly unto peace and brotherly love, they held us in derision. Thus
far indeed it might be an advantage to us, teaching us forbearance and
self-seeking, but we cannot countenance the evil spirit moving them
thereunto. Their occupations, as you remark most wisely, might have been
useful and peaceful, and had formerly been so. Why then did they gird
the sword of strife about their loins against the children of Israel? By
their own declaration, not only are they our enemies, but enemies the
most spiteful and untractable. When I came quietly, lawfully, and in the
name of the Lord, for their plate, what did they? Instead of
surrendering it like honest and conscientious men, they attacked me and
my people on horseback, with syllogisms and centhymemes, and the Lord
knows with what other such gimcracks, such venemous and rankling old
weapons as those who have the fear of God before their eyes are fain to
lay aside. Learning should not make folks mockers--should not make folks
malignants--should not harden their hearts. We came with bowels for
them.
_Sir Oliver_.--That ye did! and bowels which would have stowed within
them all the plate on board of a galloon. Tankards and wassil-bowls had
stuck between your teeth, you would not have felt them.
_Oliver_.--We did feel them; some at least: perhaps we missed too many.
_Sir Oliver_.--How can these learned societies raise the money you exact
from them, beside plate? dost think they can create and coin it?
_Oliver_.--In Cambridge, uncle Sir Oliver, and more especially in that
college named in honour (as they profanely call it) of the blessed
Trinity, there are great conjurors or chemists. Now the said conjurors
or chemists not only do possess the faculty of making the precious
metals out of old books and parchments, but out of the skulls of young
lordlings and gentlefolks, which verily promise less. And this they
bring about by certain gold wires fastened at the top of certain caps.
Of said metals, thus devilishly converted, do they make a vain and
sumptuous use; so that, finally, they are afraid of cutting their lips
with glass. But indeed it is high time to call them.
_Sir Oliver_.--Well--at last thou hast some mercy.
_Oliver_ (_aloud_.)--Cuffsatan Ramsbottom! Sadsoul Kiteclan! advance!
Let every gown, together with the belly that is therein, mount up behind
you and your comrades in good fellowship. And forasmuch as you at the
country-places look to bit and bridle, it seemeth fair and equitable
that ye should leave unto them, in full propriety, the mancipular office
of discharging the account. If there be any spare beds at the inns,
allow the doctors and dons to occupy the same--they being used to lie
softly; and be not urgent that more than three lie in each--they being
mostly corpulent. Let pass quietly and unreproved any light bubble of
pride or impetuosity, seeing that they have not alway been accustomed to
the service of guards and ushers. The Lord be with ye!--Slow trot! And
now, uncle Sir Oliver, I can resist no longer your loving-kindness. I
kiss you, my godfather, in heart's and soul's duty; and most humbly and
gratefully do I accept of your invitation to dine and lodge with you,
albeit the least worthy of your family and kinsfolk. After the
refreshment of needful food, more needful prayer, and that sleep which
descendeth on the innocent like the dew of Hermon, to-morrow at daybreak
I proceed on my journey Londonward.
_Sir Oliver_ (_aloud_.)--Ho, there! (_To a servant_.)--Let dinner be
prepared in the great diningroom; let every servant be in waiting, each
in full livery; let every delicacy the house affords be placed upon the
table in due courses; arrange all the plate upon the side-board: a
gentleman by descent--a stranger, has claimed my hospitality. (_Servant
goes_.)
Sir! you are now master. Grant me dispensation, I entreat you, from a
further attendance on you.
[13] See Forster's Life of Cromwell.
[14] Sir Oliver, who died in 1655, aged ninety-three, might, by
possibility, have seen all the men of great genius, excepting
Chaucer and Roger Bacon, whom England has produced from its
first discovery down to our own times. Francis Bacon,
Shakspeare, Milton, Newton, and the prodigious shoal that
attended these leviathans through the intellectual deep. Newton
was but in his thirteenth year at Sir Oliver's death. Raleigh,
Spenser, Hooker, Elliot, Selden, Taylor, Hobbes, Sidney,
Shaftesbury, and Locke, were existing in his lifetime; and
several more, who may be compared with the smaller of these.
[15] Chapman's _Homer_, first book.
* * * * *