JOHNNIE SEES MANY SIGHTS.
The Queen left the audience chamber in company with her
maids-of-honour, and Raleigh held the curtains over the doorway aside
for them to pass through. He came back to where Morgan was standing,
and looked him quizzingly up and down.
"Upon my faith as a knight! thou, John Morgan, art the biggest packet
of surprises I have yet brought within the gray walls of Whitehall
Palace. They do say that the air of this place is peculiarly suitable
for the breathing of west-country men. We thrive in it amazingly, to
the chagrin of better men born elsewhere. But thou hast developed from
close bud to full-blown flower in a single afternoon. Who cut the
strings of thy tongue, and took the bands from thy wits? Thou didst
speak like a ten years courtier at the least. I will confess that I
hearkened to thee dumb with sheer amazement."
Johnnie rubbed his chin ruefully.
"I am sore afraid that my tongue hath undone me; yet, for the life of
me, I could put no bridle upon it when once her Majesty had me by the
eyes. She willed the words out of me. Bones o' me! I pray I may
never have to face her with a secret locked in my bosom, and she
suspicious that I kept something hidden. 'Twould out, like murder.
But her spirit compelled mine as that of a strong man compelling a
weaker."
"There hast thou solved the royal riddle of England's governance. We
are swayed by the brain of a man behind the mask of woman's face. To
the woman that we behold we pay that chivalrous deference and loving
devotion that her sex and her station claim from true men; but when we
would treat her like a woman, with womanly weaknesses, then peeps the
man from behind the mask, and we kneel to one stronger than ourselves.
The 'woman' that appeals to us, and cries for our love, is at times
capricious as an April day. But the 'man' is ever firm and dominating,
and with 'him' no one of us dares to trifle. Thy fortunate star shone
o'er thee to-day. Few men have made so excellent a first impression on
England's maiden Queen. But be not froward because of a first success,
nor hope too much from a royal smile. The east wind can blow bitingly,
even on a sunny day. Come with me now to the royal buffet; 'tis
treason to quit this roof after a first visit without drinking a bumper
to the sovereign's health. Her Majesty is a very country housewife in
the matter of cakes and ale and clean sheets in the guest chamber."
Morgan quitted the audience chamber on Raleigh's arm, threaded numerous
corridors, sumptuously curtained and carpeted, and came at last to a
spacious room where, on a huge sideboard of carven oak, constant
provision was maintained for bodily refreshment. Servants in royal
livery stood about, and several gentlemen of the household, who had
just been relieved from duty, or come in from running some royal
errand, stood sipping a cup of wine. All saluted Raleigh courteously,
and bowed ceremoniously to his companion. Johnnie returned the bow,
feeling considerably less at ease than he had done in his sovereign's
presence. The critical stare of so many resplendent gallants unnerved
him, and he was heartily glad to quit the chamber and get out into the
air of the courtyard. Raleigh escorted him to the palace gate, where
Jeffreys awaited him. Captain Dawe had gone to look in at the bowling
green, where some of the royal officers were playing bowls. Him they
found; then, not caring for the walk back down Strand and Fleet Street,
they went to Whitehall Stairs within the palace precincts, hailed a
wherry, and went down on the tide to the stairs at Blackfriars. The
sun was setting when they landed, and columns of smoke rising from a
score of points showed that the city watchmen were lighting the evening
purifying fires at street corners and in the open spaces. The air on
the river had been cool and pleasant enough, but it was stifling in the
narrow lanes leading up from the stream to the hill of St. Paul's. The
pungent smoke from the newly-kindled wood piles came quite refreshingly
to the nostrils.
"We have had a most fortunate year in London," said Master Jeffreys.
"No case of plague, and very few of fever. The aldermen of the wards
were for stopping these fires a week ago, but the bishop resolved to
keep them going within his boundaries until October set in. 'Tis
wonderful how the smoke and flames do take the noisome vapour from the
air. If we could but get some good rains now to wash out the gutters
and conduits, the city would be cleansed and sweetened for the winter."
"For my part," answered the forester, "I should always breathe but
chokingly in these streets."
"Oh, the air is wholesome enough," said Jeffreys "and stout fellows
thrive on it. Just give an eye to yonder band of 'prentice lads. I
would not wish to see better limbs, and I'll warrant that no
forest-bred lad can give harder thwacks with oaken cudgel than can
these retailers of ribbons and fal-lals."
"The rogues are hearty enough," assented Johnnie, "and their lungs are
like bellows of leather. London is a fine place, and the air,
doubtless, sweet enough to those who have not the lingering fragrance
of the bracken in their nostrils. The scent of the woods or the salt
of the sea for me."
"And the salt of the sea is the sweeter. Ah!" Master Jeffreys sniffed
longingly.
Chepe was pretty full of leisurely pedestrians; the doorways of the
taverns were crowded; jugglers balanced themselves in the dusty gutter,
and merry maidens tripped it neatly in the inn courtyards to the sound
of pipe and tabor. The merchants' parlours over their shops were often
the scene of a friendly or family gathering, and more than one
sweetly-sung madrigal floated harmoniously out on the evening air.
Elizabethan London was a musical city, and part-singing was cultivated
beneath the rooftree of every well-to-do burgher. The fresh voices of
the young girls and the mellower notes of journeyman or apprentice
mingled tunefully together. The great city was resting from the
labours of the day, and soothing its spirit to enjoy the deeper rest
and tranquillity of the night. There was a little horseplay amongst
the lads gathered round the tumblers and tavern doors, but it hardly
disturbed the calm peacefulness of the scene. The side streets were
practically deserted, Chepe and St. Paul's Churchyard being the
fashionable promenades. Not a solitary figure blotted the narrow vista
of Wood Street when the three friends turned their wearied legs into
it. They found "Ye Swanne" in charge of the tapster and the
serving-wench, and with Paignton Rob for its solitary guest. He hailed
his hosts of the previous day with delight, and hastened to inform them
that Dame Fortune was "smiling upon him with both eyes." Whilst
lounging in the aisles of St. Paul's he had been recognized by a
Dartmouth skipper under whom he had once crossed the Atlantic on a
piratical expedition against Spain. The venture had failed, and the
golden visions dangled before Rob's eyes had vanished. But the
Dartmouth captain had tried again, and had been eminently successful,
bringing home a shipload of rich booty. Hearing Rob's story of
Oxenham's expedition, and seeing for himself the marks of Spanish
cruelty on the seaman's body, the generous skipper had made Rob a
present of ten crowns, and had also given the Johnsons--whom he had
never seen before--a couple of crowns apiece, and offered all three a
berth aboard his ship, which was leaving for Dartmouth on the next
morning's tide. The Johnsons had accepted, but Rob had declined, being
resolved to see Raleigh and some other gentlemen adventurers concerning
his plans for a recovery of Oxenham's buried treasure.
"And now," added the sailor, "I owe ye a debt of hospitality, and am
come hither to pay it. The tapster hath my orders, and ye will not
refuse to take bite and sup with me this night."
Not one of the company said "Nay," for Rob was evidently bent upon
playing the host. But Captain Dawe asked where his daughter and
Mistress Stowe had hidden themselves, and got for answer the tidings
that they had gone out into the Moorfields to take the air and see an
archery contest, the heat in the city having been well-nigh intolerable
that afternoon.
The twilight was growing faint, the narrow street was in semi-darkness.
Johnnie inquired which way the ladies would return, and getting the
direction started out to meet them and give them escort. He had not
gone far before he saw two ladies hurrying along, huddled rather
closely together, and a couple of city gallants bowing and smirking
beside them in the roadway. The young fellow's face flushed; for, even
in the growing darkness, he recognized one slight, graceful figure as
that of Dorothy. He hastened forward, and soon got near enough to
distinguish the faces of the four, and to perceive that the ladies were
being annoyed by the unwelcome attentions of the two fops, who,
attracted doubtless by Dolly's beauty and apparent rusticity, were
endeavouring to force acquaintance upon the buxom hostess of the
"Swanne." Johnnie seized both the situation and the offenders in a
moment. Grasping the youths by the nape of the neck, he cracked their
curled heads together until they yelled with pain. Then he forced
their noses down to their knees.
"Bow low, ye rascals," he cried. "Lower still; ye are not doing
sufficient homage to beauty and innocence yet."
The two collapsed, toppled forward, and lay prone on their stomachs in
the thick, foul dust.
"Kiss the ground they walk on," pursued the relentless Johnnie; "'tis
what ye mouthing apes profess to do. Kiss it--let me hear ye," and he
held them in his grip until two resounding smacks rewarded his efforts.
"Now," he said, "maybe ye will not annoy womenfolk again for an evening
or two. I'll lout the heads of both of you together if I see your
smirking faces in this street any more."
The forester straightened himself, offered an arm to each of the
ladies, and led them home.
Lights shone from the parlour window of "Ye Swanne" that night long
after they were douted in the other houses of Wood Street. Johnnie had
to recount all the incidents of his visit to the court; and Dorothy and
the hostess asked him a hundred questions about the Queen, many of them
concerning her dress and her jewels, and quite beyond his powers of
answering. He said nothing about the promise given to his sovereign in
a moment of loyal enthusiasm, a promise that pledged him to voyage and
adventure on the Spanish Main.
"Time enough for that," he said to himself. "I'll talk at greater
length to Bob to-morrow; and as no ships will be sailing westward ho!
until the spring comes again, I may as well leave talking for a later
day, and make my plans now in silence."
The party from the forest spent another week in London, and during that
time Johnnie went twice to Whitehall, on the second occasion taking
Dorothy with him. The Queen was very gracious to her pretty subject
from the west, and praised her beauty openly. Yet, in spite of the
royal condescension, Dolly felt terribly afraid, and owned to Raleigh
that she was very glad to get outside the palace doors again.
On another day the knight took them to the play on the other side of
the river, where they saw a comedy of Ben Jonson's. After the play the
captain went to see the bear-baiting in the bear-pit hard by, but the
two young people preferred a trip on the river as far as Chelsea. This
was a very busy and momentous day, for in the evening Master Jeffreys
took Morgan down to the "Mermaid Tavern" between Wood Street and Milk
Street, where Raleigh was presiding over a gathering of the "Mermaid
Club," and there the young countryman found himself in a very nest of
poets--Shakespeare, Jonson, Marlowe, Sidney, and Raleigh himself. In
after years he hardly knew which to call the most notable moment in his
life--the one when he kissed his Queen's hand, or the one when he drank
a cup of sack with the greatest wits and geniuses of his age.
When the Severn-side folks went westwards again, Paignton Rob
accompanied them; for Johnnie had invited the mariner to make his home
with him during the winter, purposing in the spring to go with him on a
first voyage to the New World.