OF MY SENDING TO GOA BY MY EMPLOYERS, AND OF THOSE THINGS THAT BEFELL
ME THERE.
Now this is the manner in which these untoward matters befell, of
the which I spake only on my last page. For I was called one day into
the Council, which is the highest in the Indies, and found there his
honour the President, together with Mr Accountant, that is next in
place to him, the Warehouse-keeper, the Purser Marine, the Secretary,
and divers of the senior merchants of the Factory, that have the
honour to be members of the board. And I, much fearing that I was to
be chidden for some failure in my duty, did answer to the summons with
little joy, standing before their honours like some poor rascal of a
poacher awaiting his sentence from the bench of justices, but my
friend Mr Martin, being among the merchants present, did cheer me with
a look, so as I was made happy again. Then saith Mr Accountant--
“Mr Carlyon, you have now been near five years in the Company’s
service at this place, and we learn from Mr Martin, who is set over
you, that you have a fair knowledge of the East Indian tongues, and
have always deserved to be well spoken of, as a zealous and careful
servant of the Committee.”
I bowed in answer to these compliments, and he continued--
“Do you know anything of the Portuguese, Mr Carlyon?”
“No, sir,” says I; “I han’t never had occasion to learn it.”
“It may be that that occasion is even now arriving,” says he. “The
Company, learning that its interests have at divers times suffered
grievous hurt through its servants not understanding the tongue of the
Portugals, hath decided to have instructed therein certain of its
writers, gentlemen well-learned in the Indian tongues. At present you
are the only gentleman at this place of whom this is said, and the
Committee are therefore pleased to direct that you shall proceed at
their charges to the city of Goa, in the Portuguese Indies, there to
study the Portuguese tongue. The time you spend there under the
Committee’s direction will count as a part of your service as writer,
and you will receive a genteel present from the Company when you have
given proof of your diligence.”
“I thank your honours and the Committee, sir,” said I, “for this
goodness, which I will do my best to deserve.”
“You will provide yourself, Mr Carlyon,” says Mr Accountant, “with
clothes befitting a young gentleman of quality, and the Company will
furnish you with letters of commendation to the most considerable
persons in Goa. Mr Martin will be good enough to instruct you with
respect to the carriage and manners it will be becoming to you to
assume. You won’t of course deny your connection with the Factory
here, but it need not be insisted upon in general company. And
if”--here Mr Accountant leaned forward, and looked me very steadfastly
in the face--“if you find that ’tis true, as is alleged, that the
Portugals are contriving plots for the damaging the Company’s trade in
the Eastern Seas, you will make known the same to us, by means as
secret and as speedy as you can devise.”
“Sir,” said I, “I’ll do my best to be watchful for their honours’
interests.” For I perceived that the Council was no little touched by
the rumours that had of late reached us concerning the designs of the
Portugals, and that ’twas my business to discover these, that so they
might best be thwarted. And after this Mr Secretary, that had spoke
not at all hitherto, being grieved that he could not prevail with his
honour the President to send Mr Spender to Goa beside me, gave me my
further instructions, and so I was dismissed. And Mr Martin and I
walking back to our chambers, he saith to me:--
“_This chanceth in an houre that hapneth not in seven yeares_, Ned,
and sure ’tis a happy chance for you. With prudence and tolerable good
luck, your fortune is now assured. I don’t doubt but you’ll soon be
made agent in some small factory when you are returned from your
studying, and so have occasion to use your Portuguese. But with your
leave, lad, I will give you some counsel, lest you fall into trouble
at Goa.”
“Sir,” says I, “I hope that I shall always gratefully receive and
follow any counsels you may be good enough to give me.”
“Listen, then,” says he; “and first you must always be mindful not to
infringe the punctilio[51] of the Portugals, for so fantastical and
strange is’t as passeth belief. You must never look hard at a lady, as
she sits in her balcony, or rides in her coach, if you don’t desire to
be stabbed that night. And regarding the religion of Goa, you must
needs be mighty circumspect. You have seen those poor idolaters, the
Papists here, walking through the city with their processions, and
kneeling down in the mire when the Host is a-passing? Here this
happeneth but from time to time, but at Goa you see little else. And
in all the Portugals’ towns ’tis the law and custom that every one
meeting a procession of the Church shall uncover to’t, and also kneel,
or at the least bow low, until it be passed by. Now some Englishmen,
conceiving that saw to be true, _When at Rome, do as Rome does_, do
make it their custom to uncover and kneel, as ’tis ordained, but to
me, this compliance savours somewhat of cowardice, and won’t, as I
believe, commend itself to you. Wherefore, if you’ll be guided by me,
I would have you go into some shop near at hand, or turn down another
street whensoever you see a procession coming, or hear the little bell
rung that signifies the approach of the Host, if you don’t wish to be
stabbed where you stand. And above all, my dear Ned, let me entreat
you never to enter into any controversy with any person in Goa, be he
Portugal or Indian, upon any question of religion. He will seek to
lead you on until you have uttered something that is to his mind
heretical, and then he’ll denounce you to the Inquisition. And once
there, Ned, ’twere far better had you been stabbed in the street by
some _bravo_ among the common people, for the few that are escaped
thence are come forth crippled and helpless, and the many that han’t
never escaped have died by the torture or the fire. _Happie is he that
can beware by other men’s harmes._”
“I thank you, sir,” says I, “and will try to remember that which you
have ofttimes told me--viz., _A close mouth catches no flys_.”
“Good lad!” says he, “and may I see you return safe in six months or
thereabouts, as full of the Portuguese as a _banyan_ is full of
deceits. But let me counsel you to take with you such weapons as you
may chance to have, and to sleep with ’em under your pillow of nights;
for Goa is the most shameless ill-governed town that ever called
itself Christian.”
Much other good counsel did my esteemed friend give me during the
short space of time that we yet spent together, for it took no long
delay to prepare me for my journey. ’Twas thus that I found myself, in
the early part of the year 1668-69, at the age of twenty-two years,
equipped as a gentleman of good degree for to set out on my travels,
having letters with me to several respectable gentlemen at Goa, a
tolerable supply of money, and suitable weapons for my defence.
Likewise I had with me my servant Loll Duss,[52] a most excellent
good fellow, that had served me from my first arriving in Surat, and
might put to shame many of our English lacqueys. ’Tis the custom in
East India for persons of any consideration to carry about with them a
great following of servants (though the cost of this is not so great
as with us, these men being habited in white calicut, and eating only
rice and a little fish); but I had no list to waste either the
Company’s substance or my own upon such display as this. Nevertheless,
so confident did I feel in my situation, and so sure that my fortune
was now to be made, that I writ to my father and to Dorothy that they
should not wonder though they heard no more touching me for a long
time, for that I might be chief Vizier to the Great Mogul when next
they heard speak of me. To Mr Martin’s care I intrusted the diary I
had kept, and such things as I must leave behind me, he promising also
to keep for my return any letters that might be brought for me by ship
from England. This good friend bare me company down to the
landing-place, and as his wont was, bade me farewell with a proverb--
“Ned, suffer me to advise you once more, _Speake faire, and thinke
what you will_. Even if by chance your argument should convince a
Papist, it won’t profit either of you, since you will find yourself in
the Inquisition, and he must needs show an extraordinary great
soundness and devotion to save his life, and bring the faggots for to
burn you.”
Thus we bade one another farewell, and I departed on my journey in the
Company’s _baloon_, which is a boat of sixteen oars, very pleasant and
commodious for to travel by. On our way we tarried only at the factory
of Bombaim, and arrived in good time at the mouth of the Goa river.
This place is well defended, for there are here four forts and a
block-house, and so arranged as that no ship may pass but under their
guns. And going on up the river we passed the great _Agoada_,[53]
which brings water to the city, and the strong fortress of Marmagoun.
The champaign country on either side of the river is mighty pleasant
of aspect, and situate in it is many fine garden-houses[54] of the
Viceroy and the _hidolgoos_,[55] with stately churches and palaces.
The river here is full of islands, which do much hinder the passage of
vessels, and not far below the city it is crossed by a bridge of
thirty-six arches, joined to a long causey.[56] The city itself is
ten miles from the river-mouth,[57] and stands on seven hills, being
defended by good walls and gates. The prospect in approaching the
place is an extreme fine one to behold, and the buildings of the city
as rich and fair as any I have ever seen. Methought, as I come near to
this accursed place, whereof I can now scarce think without a shudder,
that here was no ill town to tarry in for six months, not knowing that
I should not leave it for three years, and should (I fear) gladly have
seen it destroyed, like Sodom or Gomorrha, long before that time.
I had been recommended by my employers to a decent lodging, where such
Englishmen as visited Goa on their occasions was wont to tarry, and
here I took up my billet, together with my servant Loll Duss. The
keeper of the lodging was a certain woman, widow to one of the
Company’s captains now deceased, speaking English very well, though
country-born, and no bigot, although one of those Papists of whom Mr
Martin had warned me. She gave me a fair chamber, looking into a court
well set with trees, and with a fountain running therein, and good
entertainment also, so that I found myself well provided for. And I
asking her to advise me of a good teacher, from whom I might learn the
Portuguese, she named to me her own son, that had made one or two
voyages in his father’s ship, and could speak English also. And I,
that had feared I must needs have some Jesuit _padree_ to my teacher,
whereby, as Mr Martin foresaw, I had been very like to be led into
controversy, accepted of her offer with great contentment, and had the
boy fetched, that I might see him. He, being a smart fellow enough,
professed himself quite ready to serve me for a decent weekly wage,
and I was thus well attended, having always with me my secretary (as
he called himself), beside my servant Loll Duss.
And now, conceiving that I might well begin with the highest, I did
send by the hand of Loll Duss that letter of commendation I had to Dom
Lewis de Bustamante, a gentleman in very high place, and nephew to his
highness the Viceroy. And this Dom Lewis lost little time before he
came to visit me, and entreated me most courteously, and must needs
carry me with him to make my compliments to his highness his uncle,
for whom I had brought a genteel present--viz., several pots of
extraordinary fine succades or sweetmeats, newly arrived from Europe.
And the Viceroy I found to be a proper man, and most courteous of
manner, and indeed, among all those I have known have I never seen
none so kind and so greatly given to hospitality as were these
Portugals. For his highness was graciously pleased to give me as a
token of his favour a ring, with a very fair diamond set therein,
worth some thousand _pagodoes_,[58] which he took from his own finger
for to put it upon mine. How I lost this ring, you will hear in due
time, but I have often desired to know whether it returned into his
highness’s coffers or no. Dom Lewis, likewise, showed me great
kindness, and had fain had me lie at his house, and was so urgent with
me that I had much ado to refuse him; but pleading the importance of
my occasions, and my occupation with the Portuguese tongue, they left
me where I was.
Now after this time this was the manner of my life at Goa, and if it
seem to you too light and idle, you must remember that I was but
young, and that I conceived I was doing best my employers’ business in
mingling much with the Portugals. For on rising in the morning, I went
with my hostess’s son (that was called Peter) to take the air by the
river, and perhaps to view some church or other great building, and
thereafter I spent some time in the study of the Portuguese. But for
some two or three hours about mid-day was every one wont to repose
themselves indoors, for fear of the heat, and I was fain to do the
like. Then in the afternoon would come Dom Lewis or some one of his
friends for to carry me with him to some assembly or party of
pleasure, and the evening passed agreeably enough, with music and
dancing, and suchlike diversions.
Now you will wonder how in all this time I escaped the Inquisition,
without (as some have falsely said) I conformed myself to their
customs for fear. But the manner of my safety was this. I followed out
the counsel given me by Mr Martin, and avoided all processions and
church shows. I had much desired to have seen an High Mass in the
great church of the Dominicans or Black Friars, the which is all
gilded within, and in the sacristan[59] treasures of untold value,
but I refrained, and forced myself only to visit it one morning with
Peter. Likewise, I was very firm to refrain from argument, and indeed
my companions, that were for the most part young gentlemen of good
blood and breeding, did never attempt to force it upon me. And with
regard to the punctilio of the Portugals, I saw much reason to marvel
thereat, seeing that they will walk abroad in the streets bareheaded
under _umbrelloes_, for to avoid the necessity of uncovering the one
to the other; but I was so happy as never to infringe it. And of
adventures among the ladies had I none, seeing that they are kept very
recluse, and I had neither inclination nor opportunity to make close
acquaintance with ’em. But it is necessary to state this, since it
hath been alleged otherwise concerning me. Thus all went well, until
one day Dom Lewis came earlier than usual to visit upon me, and
carried me with him to his house, that was very fine and splendid, for
to see his cousin newly arrived from the Moxambique.
And this cousin of his (that was also nephew to the Viceroy) I found a
pretty boy enough, Dom Francis de Lessa by name. (Now this name,
Francis, is very common in Goa, after their great saint, Franciscus
Xeverius,[60] that lies buried in the fair church of _Bon Jesu_.) And
this young gentleman, Dom Francis, had been bred up in one of their
colleges by the Jesuits, or Paulistins,[61] as they call them here,
from their monastery of St Paul’s; and with him was his governor,[62]
that the Viceroy, with the advice of the _padrees_, had appointed over
him. This was a Paulistin called Father Sebastian, a person of a most
gentle and courteous aspect, and so well versed in all matters of
polite learning that to talk with him was a pleasure. Yet, to my
misfortune, there awoke in me, while in his company, as it were a
certain fervour and heat of opposition, so that I did find myself
perpetually at an issue with him, to my no small concern, be the
matter of our discourse what it might. Now on this day it seemed good
to us to walk through the city and show to Dom Francis what was worthy
to be seen therein, and so the time passed pleasantly away. But in
returning from Old Goa, a part of the town that is now decayed, but
wherein many respectable persons do dwell agreeably enough, we stopped
on a bridge for to look at the boats on the river, and I chanced to
say that ’twas a pity the Portugals should waste so much time a-racing
one another on the water in _baloons_ to the spoiling of their
business.
Then says Father Sebastian in French--
“You English are a stirring and industrious nation, sir. Sure we can’t
never hope to equal you in this.”
“It seems to me, sir,” says I, “with all respect to you, that in the
present posture of affairs, your governors are much to blame in that
they allow so many of your men to stay idle in monasteries, instead of
arming ’em and setting ’em to drill or to work. Why, ’tis said you
have more Europe men in the convents here than in all your garrisons,
and King Seva Gi and his Morattys at your very gates.”
“But pray, sir,” saith he, very meekly, “could these persons be better
employed than in beseeching God to favour the arms of their country,
and His saints to keep the enemy at a distance?”
“Indeed, sir,” says I, “speaking with all deference to you, I must say
that all these Black, White, or Gray Friars do the country no good,
nor the Church no credit. Were his highness to order ’em all on to the
walls for to be taught how to handle a fusee or a pike, ’twould
provide for the place a handsome garrison, and rid the town of a lazy
set of rascals.” I was about to continue, growing warm in the subject,
the which had much exercised me since my coming to Goa, when Dom Lewis
pressed my arm, and I followed his eyes to a certain island in the
river, where was a great void place with high posts set up therein,
and seats of stone at one side thereof. I had seen this place before,
and Peter also had pointed me to it, but it seemed to me that I had
never yet truly understood what was done there. ’Twas the
burning-place of the Inquisition. I stopped suddenly in my speech, but
Dom Lewis said somewhat touching the time of day, and we passed on.
Now as we come into the town, there was had betwixt us some discussion
as to which way we should return to the Viceroy’s palace, and on the
advice of Father Sebastian we made choice of a certain street that
leads past the cathedral. And we walking and talking merrily, come
presently to the square lying before this, which is as large as any in
England, and of a neat and plain aspect. Now we being entered the
square, I saw coming towards us the procession of some saint, I have
forgot which, but they were carrying the Host under a state,[63] with
_clericos_ walking bareheaded on either hand, and boys scattering
incense and ringing bells. There was also one or two images or
statuas, with banners and suchlike borne aloft, and many nuns and
ladies of the city walking after. And as the procession come near, the
people all made haste to kneel down in the dust, the men uncovering,
until it should be passed. And I, according to my custom, did seek to
turn aside, but we were in the open square, and there was no shop nor
side-street at hand. Then there come to my mind that sight which Dom
Lewis had but now showed to me--viz., the burning-place by the river,
and I won’t conceal from you that for a moment my knees trembled and
the devil tempted me very sorely to take off my hat and bow myself
before those images and that Host which was carried there. But I thank
God that I was kept from this base and cowardly conformity, and was
strengthened to stand still while as the procession came near. Father
Sebastian and Dom Francis went down on their knees mighty devoutly,
and Dom Lewis bowed almost to the ground, saying to me--
“Bow, Dom Edward; ’tis the custom here.”
But I still stood up, and the procession passed by, the priests and
women all looking black upon me that durst insult their idols. And
when the people was rose up again from their knees, they come round
about us, hustling us and crying out that we was atheists and
heretics, and making ready for to stone us. But Dom Lewis crying out
to them very earnestly that I was a stranger that knew not their ways
in that place, and that they were all three good Christians, as might
be seen, they were content to let us pass, though with many ill words.
Thus we walked on to the palace, Father Sebastian going meekly with
his eyes cast down and his hands folded, and Dom Lewis with a dark and
gloomy air, while Dom Francis his cousin looked upon me askance,
avoiding me as a man might one that had the plague. I, indeed, was far
from being at ease with myself, and to add to my distemper, it seemed
that even in the palace I could not be free from peril, for we
reaching the building and standing on the great steps in the forefront
thereof for to take the air, there come up an ancient man, an Indian,
of a lean and shabby aspect, and he carried with him a little cabinet,
so to speak, with curtains before it of some old torn stuff. And
Father Sebastian asking what strange beast he had therein, the fellow
replied by bringing the cabinet up to us upon the steps, and showing
us inside on’t divers little images of the Virgin and the saints. And
his design was that we should kiss these, and withal give him some
small piece of money, as the custom is here. And Father Sebastian
motioning him to approach me first, being the guest of Dom Lewis, I
had in my hand half a ducket,[64] the which I purposed to give him,
seeing the man to be old and poor, but I refused to kiss the images
that he carried, whereat he departed much displeased, though the other
gentlemen were willing to pleasure him.
And now, Dom Lewis seeming to be ill at ease, we went into the palace,
and presently his highness entered to us, and the evening passed as
usual. But shortly before the company departed, while as they was
serving _jacolatt_,[65] Father Sebastian entered again into discourse
with me, and desired to hear many things concerning England. He held
many strange notions touching our country, such as I should conceive a
Frenchman might entertain, but so universally learned are these
Jesuits that I can’t so much as guess of what nation he was. And at
last he advanced this proposition--viz., that the English are a people
altogether destitute of all loyalty and reverence, and entirely given
up to lawlessness and irreligion. And this saying I did combat with
all my skill, bringing forward to the contrary thereof the loyalty
wherewith the Cavaliers fought for his late majesty, and the reverence
they testified toward the poor clergy in their extremity.
“But, sir,” saith Father Sebastian, “sure you’ll pardon me if I say
aught displeasing to you in my ignorance, but I had believed that
’twas accounted in England a merit to show no reverence to such things
as other men venerate. And this belief of mine was confirmed, sir, in
me by your own behaviour to-day.”
“I hope, sir,” says I, “that I am always ready to show due respect
wheresoever my conscience may allow on’t, but I can’t find it in me to
bow down to a piece of bread.”
I saw Dom Francis turn pale and walk away, at a signal from his
governor, and Dom Lewis called my notice to a rare piece of carving in
ivory that had but just been sent to his highness from the king of
Visiapour, and told me that it was worth at the least ten thousand
duckets. And while admiring this, I noted a badge or medal in gold
that he bore on his left arm, and whereof I had often desired to ask
him, and I inquired concerning its device, and his reason for the
wearing it. But it seemed to me that Father Sebastian looked at him
for a moment, and in the stead of answering, he put my question aside,
and spake of some other matter. Then the father turned again to me--
“I ask your pardon, sir, but I don’t follow your meaning as I could
wish. May I beg of you to favour me at more length with the opinions
held by the English (and by yourself as an Englishman), on this
subject--viz., the respect paid to images of the holy saints?”
Now I would not have you think of me more highly than I deserve, and
so I will confess to you that ’twas my fantasy at this time that I had
a mighty pretty turn for argument, and could set out my meaning as
neatly as any man. But on this especial evening I declare most
solemnly that I had no list whatever to argue, but only to set forth
and explain unto this civil and fair-spoken priest that which he
desired to know. But ’twas not to be looked for that I, matched
against such an extraordinary keen antagonist, could confine myself to
a cold setting forth of facts, and I found quickly that I was becoming
engaged in a smart controversy, Dom Lewis and divers gentlemen of his
acquaintance standing by to listen, though uttering no comment on all
that passed. The matter was ended at last by his highness giving the
signal to retire, and Father Sebastian saying that we must surely
resume our debate on the morrow, I bade him good night, and so
departed. But Dom Lewis coming with me into the hall while I buckled
on my sword, and two _peunes_[66] (which is Gentue boys or servants),
sought out and brought to me my hat and cloak, I heard him mutter in
his throat when he bade me farewell certain words. And of these the
sense never reached me until I had returned to my lodging, and was
ready to go to bed, though their sound seemed well known to me, but
then I knew them to be, _Quem Deus vult perdere, prius dementat_.
But, as I said, I did not perceive at first the meaning of these
words, and I went home after my usual fashion, with one of the
Viceroy’s servants bearing a lantern before me, and found Loll Duss
looking for me in no small alarm, since it was already late, and he
had feared lest some ill was befallen me. For, as Mr Martin had warned
me, in the streets of Goa is no safety for any whose occasions oblige
them to be abroad after dark, for what with the _Coffrees_[67] or
negroes, that are given no food by their masters, and the soldiers,
whose pay is always withheld from ’em, so that both must needs brawl
and rob for to keep themselves alive, the place is full of murders and
assaults every night. Nay, so bold do these robbers become, that ’tis
their custom even to break into houses, and strip the inhabitants of
their moneys and other goods, and kill those that resist them,
wherefore every prudent person is wont to sleep with pistols at his
bed’s head and sword by his side. And after this manner had I laid
myself down on this same night, with Loll Duss a-sleeping on the
threshold of my chamber, and was fallen asleep in great contentment,
expecting no harm nor fearing none, that peril from the unruly
brawlers alone excepted.
But on a sudden I was awaked by an extraordinary great knocking at the
gate without, and heard Peter run to ask who might be there. At the
first I thought it to be a band of those thieving soldiers of whom I
spake just now, but by the answer that was then returned to him I knew
what it was that should befall me, for a voice cried--
“The Holy Inquisition. Open quickly!”
“Loll Duss,” says I to my servant, that had rushed into my chamber in
affright, “these men are come for to take me.”
“Shall we resist ’em, master?” quoth he, snatching up my sword from
its sheath, and making as though he would defend the door.
I looked around, the while I could hear Peter fumbling to unfasten the
bolts of the gate. Perchance (says I), if we can drive them away for a
moment we may escape. But at once I perceived that ’twas impossible.
My chamber opened on the one side into the inner court, from which was
no exit but over the roof, and on the other into a passage leading to
the gate. There was no way of escape. But upon this a thought seized
me.
“No, Loll Duss,” says I, “we can’t resist. They are come for to seek
me, and must needs take me. But I dare be bound they han’t no warrant
for to hale you along with me, though they will take you if they find
you. Hide yourself, and save these papers of mine, and carry ’em with
you to Surat, to Mr Martin.”
And thus speaking I snatched up from my writing-book the letter I had
but just wrote to Mr Martin, and with it such notes as I had made
touching the designs of the Portugals in the Eastern Seas, and thrust
them into his hands. My pistols also I gave him, and such money as
come to my hand, and bade him be gone. And he disappeared and was gone
before I might so much as turn round, hiding himself in some hole so
secure as that they never found him.
Now all these things happened in far less time than I must take for to
tell you of ’em, and Loll Duss was safely departed when at length the
gate was opened, and the officers come along the passage to my
chamber. I met them at the door, and would have asked their business,
as one hugely curious concerning their visit, but at the sight of him
that led them my tongue refused his office, for he was my friend, Dom
Lewis de Bustamante. And he summoning and claiming me as the prisoner
of the Holy Inquisition, showed me a warrant, signed and sealed, and
upon this the rest of the officers entered the chamber, and set seals
on all that was therein. Now the seal that was upon the warrant bare
the device of a dove carrying in her mouth a branch of olive, and
these words in Latin, _Justitia et Misericordia_. Then I, looking upon
the medal that Dom Lewis bare upon his sleeve, did see wrought therein
this self-same figure and motto, the which stirred up in me a great
heat and indignation, that a brave man should suffer his friends
carelessly to endanger themselves in his presence, and never tell them
that his honour demanded that he should denounce and seize ’em. As for
the rest of the officers, they was as evil-looking a crew of rascals
as I ever saw, all clad in great gowns of black stuff, with hoods for
to shade their faces, but of their nature I saw little, for they said
nothing, leaving it all to Dom Lewis, that was most assuredly their
master.
And this nobleman asking of me whether I were ready to come with ’em,
I requested leave to finish dressing of myself properly, which was
granted, and likewise to pack and take with me my trunk, or at least
some clothes in a bag, but this he refused, saying that the Holy
Office should look to my goods, and I should have ’em again. Then
having dressed myself, I went with them to the gate, where they had a
coach in waiting, and put me into it, and themselves followed, my
hostess weeping and crying in the door that no such shame had ever
come upon her house before, and so departed.