CHAPTER LV

"NAY, Richart," said Catherine at last, "for Heaven's sake let not this

one sorry wench set us all by the ears: hath she not made ill blood

enough already?"

"In very deed she hath. Fear me not, good mother. Let her come and read

the letter of the poor boy she hath by devilish arts bewitched, and then

let her go. Give me your words to show her no countenance beyond decent

and constrained civility: less we may not, being in our own house; and I

will say no more." On this understanding they awaited the foe. She, for

her part, prepared for the interview in a spirit little less hostile.

When Denys brought word they would not come to her, but would receive

her, her lip curled, and she bade him observe how in them every feeling,

however small, was larger than the love for Gerard. "Well," said she,

"I have not that excuse; so why mimic the pretty burgher's pride, the

pride of all unlettered folk? I will go to them for Gerard's sake. Oh,

how I loathe them!"

Thus poor good-natured Denys was bringing into one house the materials

of an explosion.

Margaret made her toilet in the same spirit that a knight of her day

dressed for battle--he to parry blows, and she to parry glances--glances

of contempt at her poverty, or of irony at her extravagance. Her kirtle

was of English cloth, dark blue, and her farthingale and hose of the

same material, but a glossy roan, or claret colour. Not an inch of

pretentious fur about her, but plain snowy linen wrist-bands, and

curiously-plaited linen from the bosom of the kirtle up to the

commencement of the throat; it did not encircle her throat, but framed

it, being square, not round. Her front hair still peeped in two waves

much after the fashion which Mary Queen of Scots revived a century

later; but instead of the silver net, which would have ill become her

present condition, the rest of her head was covered with a very small

tight-fitting hood of dark blue cloth, hemmed with silver. Her shoes

were red; but the roan petticoat and hose prepared the spectator's mind

for the shock, and they set off the arched instep and shapely foot.

Beauty knew its business then as now.

And with all this she kept her enemies waiting, though it was three by

the dial.

At last she started, attended by her he-comrade. And when they were half

way, she stopped and said thoughtfully, "Denys!"

"Well, she-general?"

"I must go home" (piteously).

"What have ye left somewhat behind?"

"Ay."

"What?"

"My courage. Oh! oh! oh!"

"Nay, nay, be brave, she-general. I shall be with you."

"Ay, but wilt keep close to me when I be there?"

Denys promised, and she resumed her march, but gingerly.

Meantime, they were all assembled, and waiting for her with a strange

mixture of feelings.

Mortification, curiosity, panting affection, aversion to her who came to

gratify those feelings, yet another curiosity to see what she was like,

and what there was in her to bewitch Gerard, and make so much mischief.

At last Denys came alone, and whispered, "The she-comrade is without."

"Fetch her in," said Eli. "Now whist, all of ye. None speak to her but

I."

They all turned their eyes to the door in dead silence.

A little muttering was heard outside; Denys's rough organ, and a woman's

soft and mellow voice.

Presently that stopped; and then the door opened slowly, and Margaret

Brandt, dressed as I have described, and somewhat pale, but calm and

lovely, stood on the threshold, looking straight before her.

They all rose but Kate, and remained mute and staring.

"Be seated, mistress," said Eli, gravely, and motioned to a seat that

had been set apart for her.

She inclined her head, and crossed the apartment; and in so doing her

condition was very visible, not only in her shape, but in her languor.

Cornelis and Sybrandt hated her for it. Richart thought it spoiled her

beauty.

It softened the women somewhat.

She took her letter out of her bosom, and kissed it as if she had been

alone; then disposed herself to read it with the air of one who knew she

was there for that single purpose.

But, as she began, she noticed they had seated her all by herself like a

leper. She looked at Denys, and putting her hand down by her side, made

him a swift furtive motion to come by her.

He went with an obedient start as if she had cried "March!" and stood at

her shoulder like a sentinel; but this zealous manner of doing it

revealed to the company that he had been ordered thither; and at that

she coloured. And now she began to read her Gerard, their Gerard, to

their eager ears, in a mellow, but clear voice, so soft, so earnest, so

thrilling, her very soul seemed to cling about each precious sound. It

was a voice as of a woman's bosom set speaking by Heaven itself.

"I do nothing doubt, my Margaret, that long ere this shall meet thy

beloved eyes, Denys, my most dear friend, will have sought thee out, and

told thee the manner of our unlooked-for and most tearful parting.

Therefore I will e'en begin at that most doleful day. What befell him

after, poor faithful soul, fain, fain would I hear, but may not. But I

pray for him day and night next after thee, dearest. Friend more stanch

and loving had not David in Jonathan than I in him. Be good to him for

poor Gerard's sake."

At these words, which came quite unexpectedly to him, Denys leaned his

head on Margaret's high chair, and groaned aloud.

She turned quickly as she sat, and found his hand, and pressed it.

And so the sweetheart and the friend held hands while the sweetheart

read.

"I went forward all dizzied, like one in an ill dream; and presently a

gentleman came up with his servants, all on horseback, and had like to

have rid o'er me. And he drew rein at the brow of the hill, and sent his

armed men back to rob me. They robbed me civilly enough; and took my

purse and the last copper, and rid gaily away. I wandered stupid on, a

friendless pauper."

There was a general sigh, followed by an oath from Denys.

"Presently a strange dimness came o'er me, I lay down to sleep on the

snow. 'Twas ill done, and with store of wolves hard by. Had I loved thee

as thou dost deserve, I had shown more manhood. But oh, sweet love, the

drowsiness that did crawl o'er me desolate, and benumb me, was more than

nature. And so I slept; and but that God was better to us, than I to

thee or to myself, from that sleep I ne'er had waked; so all do say. I

had slept an hour or two, as I supposed, but no more, when a hand did

shake me rudely. I awoke to my troubles. And there stood a servant girl

in her holiday suit. 'Are ye mad,' quoth she, in seeming choler, 'to

sleep in snow, and under wolves' nosen? Art weary o' life, and not long

weaned? Come, now,' said she, more kindly, 'get up like a good lad'; so

I did rise up. 'Are ye rich, or are ye poor?' But I stared at her as one

amazed. 'Why 'tis easy of reply,' quoth she. 'Are ye rich, or are ye

poor?' Then I gave a great, loud cry; that she did start back. 'Am I

rich, or am I poor? Had ye asked me an hour agone, I had said I am rich.

But now I am so poor as sure earth beareth on her bosom none poorer. An

hour agone I was rich in a friend, rich in money, rich in hope and

spirits of youth; but now the Bastard of Burgundy hath taken my friend

and another gentleman my purse; and I can neither go forward to Rome nor

back to her I left in Holland. I am poorest of the poor.' 'Alack!' said

the wench. 'Natheless, an ye had been rich ye might ha' lain down again

in the snow for any use I had for ye; and then I trow ye had soon fared

out o' this world as bare as ye came into 't. But, being poor, you are

our man: so come wi' me.' Then I went because she bade me, and because I

recked not now whither I went. And she took me to a fine house hard by,

and into a noble dining-hall hung with black: and there was set a table

with many dishes, and but one plate and one chair. 'Fall to!' said she,

in a whisper. 'What, alone?' said I. 'Alone? And which of us, think ye,

would eat out of the same dish with ye? Are we robbers o' the dead?'

Then she speered where I was born. 'At Tergou,' said I. Says she, 'And,

when a gentleman dies in that country, serve they not the dead man's

dinner up as usual, till he be in the ground, and set some poor man down

to it?' I told her nay. 'She blushed for us then. Here they were better

Christians.' So I behoved to sit down. But small was my heart for meat.

Then this kind lass sat by me and poured me out wine; and, tasting it,

it cut me to the heart Denys was not there to drink with me. He doth so

love good wine, and women good, bad, or indifferent. The rich, strong

wine curled round my sick heart; and that day first I did seem to

glimpse why folk in trouble run to drink so. She made me eat of every

dish. ''Twas unlucky to pass one. Nought was here but her master's

_daily_ dinner.' 'He had a good stomach, then,' said I. 'Ay, lad, and a

good heart. Leastways, so we all say now he is dead; but, being alive,

no word on't e'er heard I.' So I did eat as a bird; nibbling of every

dish. And she hearing me sigh, and seeing me like to choke at the food,

took pity and bade me be of good cheer. I should sup and lie there that

night. And she went to the hind, and he gave me a right good bed; and I

told him all, and asked him would the law give me back my purse. 'Law!'

quoth he; 'law there was none for the poor in Burgundy. Why, 'twas the

cousin of the Lady of the Manor, he that had robbed me. He knew the wild

spark. The matter must be judged before the lady; and she was quite

young, and far more like to hang me for slandering her cousin, and a

gentleman, and a handsome man, than to make him give me back my own.

Inside the liberties of a town a poor man might now and then see the

face of justice; but out among the grand seigneurs and dames--never.' So

I said, 'I'll sit down robbed rather than seek justice and find

gallows.' They were all most kind to me next day; and the girl

proffered me money from her small wage to help me towards Rhine."

"Oh, then, he is coming home! he is coming home!' shouted Denys,

interrupting the reader. She shook her head gently at him, by way of

reproof.

"I beg pardon, all the company," said he stiffly.

"'Twas a sore temptation; but, being a servant, my stomach rose against

it. 'Nay, nay,' said I. She told me I was wrong. ''Twas pride out o'

place; poor folk should help one another; or who on earth would?' I said

if I could do aught in return 'twere well; but for a free gift, nay: I

was over much beholden already. Should I write a letter for her? 'Nay,

he is in the house at present,' said she. 'Should I draw her picture,

and so earn my money? 'What, can ye?' said she. I told her I could try;

and her habit would well become a picture. So she was agog to be limned,

and give it her lad. And I set her to stand in a good light, and soon

made sketches two, whereof I send thee one, coloured at odd hours. The

other I did most hastily, and with little conscience daub, for which may

Heaven forgive me; but time was short. They, poor things, knew no

better, and were most proud and joyous; and, both kissing me after their

country fashion, 'twas the hind that was her sweetheart, they did bid me

God-speed; and I towards Rhine."

Margaret paused here, and gave Denys the coloured drawing to hand round.

It was eagerly examined by the females on account of the costume, which

differed in some respects from that of a Dutch domestic: the hair was in

a tight linen bag, a yellow half kerchief crossed her head from ear to

ear, but threw out a rectangular point that descended the centre of her

forehead, and it met in two more points over her bosom. She wore a red

kirtle with long sleeves, kilted very high in front, and showing a green

farthingale and a great red leather purse hanging down over it; red

stockings, yellow leathern shoes, ahead of her age; for they were

low-quartered and square-toed, secured by a strap buckling over the

instep, which was not uncommon, and was perhaps the rude germ of the

diamond buckle to come.

Margaret continued:--

"But, oh! how I missed my Denys at every step! often I sat down on the

road and groaned. And in the afternoon it chanced that I did so set me

down where two roads met, and with heavy head in hand, and heavy heart,

did think of thee, my poor sweetheart, and of my lost friend, and of the

little house at Tergou, where they all loved me once; though now it is

turned to hate."

_Catherine._] "Alas! that he will think so."

_Eli._] "Whist! wife!"

"And I did sigh loud, and often. And me sighing so, one came carolling

like a bird adown t'other road. 'Ay, chirp and chirp,' cried I,

bitterly. 'Thou hast not lost sweetheart, and friend, thy father's

hearth, thy mother's smile, and every penny in the world.' And at last

he did so carol, and carol, I jumped up in ire to get away from his most

jarring mirth. But, ere I fled from it, I looked down the path to see

what could make a man so light hearted in this weary world; and lo! the

songster was a humpbacked cripple, with a bloody bandage o'er his eye,

and both legs gone at the knee."

"He! he! he! he! he!" went Sybrandt, laughing and cackling.

Margaret's eyes flashed: she began to fold the letter up.

"Nay, lass," said Eli, "heed him not! Thou unmannerly cur, offer't but

again and I put thee to the door."

"Why, what was there to gibe at, Sybrandt?" remonstrated Catherine, more

mildly. "Is not our Kate afflicted? and is she not the most content of

us all, and singeth like a merle at times between her pains? But I am as

bad as thou; prithee read on, lass, and stop our gabble wi' somewhat

worth the hearkening."

"Then, said I, 'may this thing be?' And I took myself to task. 'Gerard,

son of Eli, dost thou well to bemoan thy lot, that hast youth and

health; and here comes the wreck of nature on crutches, praising God's

goodness with singing like a mavis?'"

_Catherine._] "There you see."

_Eli._] "Whist, dame, whist!"

"And whenever he saw me, he left carolling and presently hobbled up and

chanted, 'Charity, for love of Heaven, sweet master, charity,' with a

whine as piteous as wind at keyhole. 'Alack, poor soul,' said I,

'charity is in my heart, but not my purse; I am poor as thou.' Then he

believed me none, and to melt me undid his sleeve, and showed a sore

wound on his arm, and said he: 'Poor cripple though I be, I am like to

lose this eye to boot, look else.' I saw and groaned for him, and to

excuse myself let him wot how I have been robbed of my last copper.

Thereat he left whining all in a moment, and said, in a big manly voice,

'Then I'll e'en take a rest. Here, youngster, pull thou this strap:

nay, fear not!' I pulled, and down came a stout pair of legs out of his

back; and half his hump had melted away, and the wound in his eye no

deeper than the bandage."

"Oh!" ejaculated Margaret's hearers, in a body.

"Whereat, seeing me astounded, he laughed in my face, and told me I was

not worth gulling, and offered me his protection. 'My face was

prophetic,' he said. 'Of what?' said I. 'Marry,' said he, 'that its

owner will starve in this thievish land.' Travel teaches e'en the young

wisdom. Time was I had turned and fled this impostor as a pestilence;

but now I listened patiently to pick up crumbs of counsel. And well I

did: for nature and his adventurous life had crammed the poor knave with

shrewdness and knowledge of the homelier sort--a child was I beside him.

When he had turned me inside out, said he, 'Didst well to leave France

and make for Germany; but think not of Holland again. Nay, on to

Augsburg and Nurnberg, the Paradise of craftsmen: thence to Venice, an

thou wilt. But thou wilt never bide in Italy nor any other land, having

once tasted the great German cities. Why there is but one honest country

in Europe, and that is Germany; and since thou art honest, and since I

am a vagabone, Germany was made for us twain.' I bade him make that

good: how might one country fit true men and knaves? 'Why, thou novice,'

said he, 'because in an honest land are fewer knaves to bite the honest

man, and many honest men for the knave to bite. I was in luck, being

honest, to have fallen in with a friendly sharp. Be my pal,' said he. 'I

go to Nurnberg, we will reach it with full pouches. I'll learn ye the

cul de bois, and the cul de jatte, and how to maund, and chant, and

patter, and to raise swellings, and paint sores and ulcers on thy body

would take in the divell.' I told him, shivering, I'd liever die than

shame myself and my folk so."

_Eli._] "Good lad! good lad!"

"Why what shame was it for such as I to turn beggar? Beggary was an

ancient and most honourable mystery. What did holy monks, and bishops,

and kings, when they would win Heaven's smile? why, wash the feet of

beggars, those favourites of the saints. 'The saints were no fools,' he

told me. Then he did put out his foot. 'Look at that, that was washed by

the greatest king alive, Louis of France, the last holy Thursday that

was. And the next day, Friday, clapped in the stocks by the warden of a

petty hamlet,' So I told him my foot should walk between such high

honour and such low disgrace, on the safe path of honesty, please God.

Well then, since I had not spirit to beg, he would indulge my

perversity. I should work under him, he be the head, I the fingers. And

with that he set himself up like a judge, on a heap of dust by the

road's side, and questioned me strictly what I could do. I began to say

I was strong and willing. 'Bah!' said he, 'so is an ox. Say, what canst

do that Sir Ox cannot?' I could write; I had won a prize for it. 'Canst

write as fast as the printers?' quo' he, jeering. 'What else?' I could

paint. 'That was better.' I was like to tear my hair to hear him say so,

and me going to Rome to write. I could twang the psaltery a bit. 'That

was well. Could I tell stories?' Ay, by the score. 'Then,' said he, 'I

hire you from this moment.' 'What to do?' said I. 'Nought crooked, Sir

Candour,' says he. 'I will feed thee all the way and find thee work; and

take half thine earnings, no more.' 'Agreed,' said I, and gave my hand

on it. 'Now, servant,' said he, 'we will dine. But ye need not stand

behind my chair, for two reasons, first I ha' got no chair, and, next,

good fellowship likes me better than state.' And out of his wallet he

brought flesh, fowl, and pastry, a good dozen of spices lapped in flax

paper, and wine fit for a king. Ne'er feasted I better than out of this

beggar's wallet, now my master. When we had well eaten I was for going

on. 'But,' said he, 'servants should not drive their masters too hard,

especially after feeding, for then the body is for repose, and the mind

turns to contemplation;' and he lay on his back gazing calmly at the

sky, and presently wondered whether there were any beggars up there. I

told him I knew but of one; called Lazarus. 'Could he do the cul de

jatte better than I?' said he, and looked quite jealous like. I told him

nay; Lazarus was honest, though a beggar, and fed daily of the crumbs

fal'n from a rich man's table, and the dogs licked his sores. 'Servant,'

quo' he, 'I spy a foul fault in thee. Thou liest without discretion: now

the end of lying being to gull, this is no better than fumbling with the

divell's tail. I pray Heaven thou mayest prove to paint better than thou

cuttest whids, or I am done out of a dinner. No beggar eats crumbs, but

only the fat of the land; and dogs lick not a beggar's sores, being made

with spearwort, or ratsbane, or biting acids, from all which dogs, and

even pigs, abhor. My sores are made after my proper receipt; but no dog

would lick e'en them twice. I have made a scurvy bargain: art a cozening

knave. I doubt, as well as a nincompoop.' I deigned no reply to this

bundle of lies, which did accuse heavenly truth of falsehood for not

being in a tale with him. He rose and we took the road; and presently we

came to a place where were two little wayside inns, scarce a furlong

apart. 'Halt,' said my master. 'Their armories are sore faded--all the

better. Go thou in; shun the master; board the wife; and flatter her inn

sky high, all but the armories, and offer to colour them dirt cheap.' So

I went in and told the wife I was a painter, and would revive her

armories cheap; but she sent me away with a rebuff. I to my master. He

groaned. 'Ye are all fingers and no tongue,' said he; 'I have made a

scurvy bargain. Come and hear me patter and flatter.' Between the two

inns was a high hedge. He goes behind it a minute and comes out a decent

tradesman. We went on to the other inn, and then I heard him praise it

so fulsome as the very wife did blush. 'But,' says he, 'there is one

little, little fault; your armories are dull and faded. Say but the

word, and for a silver franc my apprentice here, the cunningest e'er I

had, shall make them bright as ever.' Whilst she hesitated, the rogue

told her he had done it to a little inn hard by, and now the inn's face

was like the starry firmament. "D'ye hear that, my man?' cries she, 'The

Three Frogs' have been and painted up their armories: shall 'The Four

Hedgehogs' be outshone by them?" So I painted, and my master stood by

like a lord, advising me how to do, and winking to me to heed him none,

and I got a silver franc. And he took me back to 'The Three Frogs,' and

on the way put me on a beard and disguised me, and flattered 'The Three

Frogs,' and told them how he had adorned 'The Four Hedgehogs,' and into

the net jumped the three poor simple frogs, and I earned another silver

franc. Then we went on and he found his crutches, and sent me forward,

and showed his 'cicatrices d'emprunt,' as he called them, and all his

infirmities, at 'The Four Hedgehogs,' and got both food and money.

'Come, share and share,' quoth he: so I gave him one franc. 'I have made

a good bargain,' said he. 'Art a master limner, but takest too much

time.' So I let him know that in matters of honest craft things could

not be done quick and well. 'Then do them quick,' quoth he. And he told

me my name was Bon Bec; and I might call him Cul de Jatte, because that

was his lay at our first meeting. And at the next town my master, Cul

de Jatte, bought me a psaltery, and sat himself up again by the roadside

in state like him that erst judged Marsyas and Apollo, piping for vain

glory. So I played a strain. 'Indifferent well, harmonious Bon Bec,'

said he, haughtily. 'Now tune thy pipes.' So I did sing a sweet strain

the good monks taught me; and singing it reminded poor Bon Bec, Gerard

erst, of his young days and home, and brought the water to mine een.

But, looking up, my master's visage was as the face of a little boy

whipt soundly, or sipping foulest medicine. 'Zounds, stop that

belly-ache blether,' quoth he, 'that will ne'er wile a stiver out o'

peasants' purses; 'twill but sour the nurses' milk, and gar the kine

jump into rivers to be out of earshot on't. What, false knave, did I buy

thee a fire new psaltery to be minded o' my latter end withal? Hearken!

these be the songs that glad the heart, and fill the minstrel's purse.'

And he sung so blasphemous a stave, and eke so obscene, as I drew away

from him a space that the lightning might not spoil the new psaltery.

However, none came, being winter, and then I said, 'Master, the Lord is

débonair. Held I the thunder yon ribaldry had been thy last, thou foul

mouthed wretch.'

"'Why, Bon Bec, what is to do?' quoth he. 'I have made an ill bargain.

Oh, perverse heart, that turneth from doctrine.' So I bade him keep his

breath to cool his broth, ne'er would I shame my folk with singing

ribald songs. 'Then,' says he, sulkily, 'the first fire we light by the

way side, clap thou on the music-box! so 'twill make our pot boil for

the nonce; but with your

Good people, let us peak and pine,

Cut tristful mugs, and miaul and whine

Thorough our nosen chaunts divine

never, never, never. Ye might as well go through Lorraine crying,

Mulleygrubs, Mulleygrubs, who'll buy my Mulleygrubs?' So we fared on,

bad friends. But I took a thought, and prayed him hum me one of his

naughty ditties again. Then he brightened, and broke forth into ribaldry

like a nightingale. Finger in ears stuffed I. 'No words; nought but the

bare melody.' For oh, Margaret, note the sly malice of the Evil One!

Still to the scurviest matter he weddeth the tunablest ditties."

_Catherine._] "That is true as Holy Writ."

_Sybrandt._] "How know you that, mother?"

_Cornelis._] "He! he! he!"

_Eli._] "Whisht, ye uneasy wights, and let me hear the boy. He is wiser

than ye; wiser than his years."

"'What tomfoolery is this?' said he; yet he yielded to me, and soon I

garnered three of his melodies; but I would not let Cul de Jatte wot the

thing I meditated. 'Show not fools nor bairns unfinished work,' saith

the byword. And by this time 'twas night, and a little town at hand,

where we went each to his inn; for my master would not yield to put off

his rags and other sores till morning; nor I to enter an inn with a

tatterdemalion. So we were to meet on the road at peep of day. And,

indeed, we still lodged apart, meeting at morn and parting at eve,

outside each town we lay at. And waking at midnight and cogitating, good

thoughts came down to me, and sudden my heart was enlightened. I called

to mind that my Margaret had withstood the taking of the burgomaster's

purse. ''Tis theft,' said you; 'disguise it how ye will.' But I must be

wiser than my betters: and now that which I had as good as stolen,

others had stolen from me. As it came so it was gone. Then I said,

'Heaven is not cruel, but just;' and I vowed a vow, to repay our

burgomaster every shilling an I could. And I went forth in the morning

sad, but hopeful. I felt lighter for the purse being gone. My master was

at the gate becrutched. I told him I'd liever have seen him in another

disguise. 'Beggars must not be choosers,' said he. However, soon he bade

me untruss him, for he felt sadly. His head swam. I told him, forcefully

to deform nature thus could scarce be wholesome. He answered none; but

looked scared, and hand on head. By-and-by he gave a groan, and rolled

on the ground like a ball, and writhed sore. I was scared, and wist not

what to do, but went to lift him; but his trouble rose higher and

higher, he gnashed his teeth fearfully, and the foam did fly from his

lips; and presently his body bended itself like a bow, and jerked and

bounded many times into the air. I exorcised him; it but made him worse.

There was water in a ditch hard by, not very clear; but, the poor

creature struggling between life and death, I filled my hat withal, and

came flying to souse him. Then my lord laughed in my face. 'Come, Bon

Bec, by thy white gills, I have not forgotten my trade.' I stood with

watery hat in hand, glaring. 'Could this be feigning?' 'What else?' said

he. 'Why, a real fit is the sorriest thing; but a stroke with a feather

compared with mine. Art still betters nature.' 'But look, e'en now blood

trickleth from your nose,' said I. 'Ay, ay, pricked my nostrils with a

straw.' 'But ye foamed at the lips.' 'Oh, a little soap makes a mickle

foam.' And he drew out a morsel like a bean from his mouth. 'Thank thy

stars, Bon Bec,' says he, 'for leading thee to a worthy master. Each day

his lesson. To-morrow we will study the cul de bois and other branches.

To-day, own me prince of demoniacs, and indeed of all good fellows.'

Then, being puffed up, he forgot yesterday's grudge, and discoursed me

freely of beggars; and gave me, who eftsoons thought a beggar was a

beggar, and there an end, the names and qualities of full thirty sorts

of masterful and crafty mendicants in France and Germany, and England;

his three provinces; for so the poor, proud knave yclept those kingdoms

three; wherein his throne it was the stocks I ween. And outside the next

village one had gone to dinner, and left his wheel-barrow. So says he,

'I'll tie myself in a knot, and shalt wheel me through; and what with my

crippledom and thy piety, a-wheeling of thy poor old dad, we'll bleed

the bumpkins of a dacha-saltee.' I did refuse. I would work for him; but

no hand would have in begging. 'And wheeling an "asker" in a barrow, is

not that work?' said he; 'then fling yon muckle stone in to boot: stay,

I'll soil it a bit, and swear it is a chip of the holy sepulchre; and

you wheeled us both from Jerusalem.' Said I, 'Wheeling a pair o' lies,

one stony, one fleshly, may be work, and hard work, but honest work 'tis

not. 'Tis fumbling with his tail you wot of. And,' said I, 'master, next

time you go to tempt me to knavery, speak not to me of my poor old dad.'

Said I, 'you have minded me of my real father's face, the truest man in

Holland. He and I are ill friends now, worse luck. But though I offend

him, shame him I never will.' Dear Margaret, with this knave saying,

'your poor old dad,' it had gone to my heart like a knife. ''Tis well,'

said my master, gloomily; 'I have made a bad bargain.' Presently he

halts, and eyes a tree by the wayside. 'Go spell me what is writ on yon

tree.' So I went, and there was nought but a long square drawn in

outline. I told him so. 'So much for thy monkish lore,' quoth he. A

little farther, and he sent me to read a wall. There was nought but a

circle scratched on the stone with a point of nail or knife, and in the

circle two dots. I said so. Then said he, 'Bon Bec, that square was a

warning. Some good Truand left it, that came through this village

faring west; that means "dangerous." The circle with the two dots was

writ by another of our brotherhood; and it signifies as how the writer,

soit Rollin Trapu, soit Triboulet, soit Catin Cul de Bois, or what not,

was _becked_ for _asking_ here, and lay two months in Starabin.' Then he

broke forth, 'Talk of your little snivelling books that go in pouch.

Three books have I, France, England, and Germany; and they are writ all

over in one tongue, that my brethren of all countries understand; and

that is what I call learning. So sith here they whip sores, and imprison

infirmities, I to my tiring room.' And he popped behind the hedge, and

came back worshipful. We passed through the village, and I sat me down

on the stocks, and even as the barber's apprentice whets his razor on a

block, so did I flesh my psaltery on this village, fearing great cities.

I tuned it, and coursed up and down the wires nimbly with my two wooden

strikers; and then chanted loud and clear, as I had heard the minstrels

of the country,

'QUI VEUT OUÏR QUI VEUT SAVOIR,'

some trash, I mind not what. And soon the villagers, male and female,

thronged about me; thereat I left singing, and recited them to the

psaltery a short but right merry tale out of 'the lives of the saints,'

which it is my handbook of pleasant figments: and this ended, instantly

struck up and whistled one of Cul de Jatte's devil's ditties, and played

it on the psaltery to boot. Thou knowest Heaven hath bestowed on me a

rare whistle, both for compass and tune. And with me whistling bright

and full this sprightly air, and making the wires slow when the tune did

gallop, and tripping when the tune did amble, or I did stop and shake on

one note like a lark i' the air, they were like to eat me; but looking

round, lo! my master had given way to his itch, and there was his hat on

the ground, and copper pouring in. I deemed it cruel to whistle the

bread out of poverty's pouch; so broke off and away; yet could not get

clear so swift, but both men and women did slobber me sore, and smelled

all of garlic. 'There, master,' said I, 'I call that cleaving the divell

in twain and keeping his white half.' Said he, 'Bon Bec, I have made a

good bargain.' Then he bade me stay where I was while he went to the

Holy Land. I stayed, and he leaped the churchyard dike, and the sexton

was digging a grave, and my master chaffered with him, and came back

with a knuckle bone. But, why he clept a churchyard Holy Land, that I

learned not then, but after dinner. I was colouring the armories of a

little inn; and he sat by me most peaceable, a cutting, and filing, and

polishing bones, sedately; so I speered was not honest work sweet? 'As

rain water,' said he, mocking. 'What was he a making?' 'A pair of bones

to play on with thee; and with the refuse a St. Anthony's thumb and a

St. Martin's little finger, for the devout.' The vagabone! And now,

sweet Margaret, thou seest our manner of life faring Rhineward. I with

the two arts I had least prized or counted on for bread was welcome

everywhere; too poor now to fear robbers, yet able to keep both master

and man on the road. For at night I often made a portraiture of the

innkeeper or his dame, and so went richer from an inn; the which it is

the lot of few. But my master despised this even way of life. 'I love

ups and downs,' said he. And certes he lacked them not. One day he would

gather more than I in three; another, to hear his tale, it had rained

kicks all day in lieu of 'saltees,' and that is pennies. Yet even then

at heart he despised me for a poor, mechanical soul, and scorned my

arts, extolling his own, the art of feigning.

"Natheless, at odd times was he ill at his ease. Going through the town

of Aix, we came upon a beggar walking, fast by one hand to a cart-tail,

and the hangman a lashing his bare bloody back. He, stout knave, so

whipt, did not a jot relent; but I did wince at every stroke; and my

master hung his head.

"'Soon or late, Bon Bec,' quoth he. 'Soon or late.' I seeing his haggard

face knew what he meaned. And at a town whose name hath slipped me, but

'twas on a fair river, as we came to the foot of the bridge, he halted

and shuddered. 'Why, what is the coil,' said I? 'Oh, blind,' said he,

'they are justifying there.' So nought would serve him but take a boat,

and cross the river by water. But 'twas out of the frying-pan, as the

word goeth. For the boatmen had scarce told us the matter, and that it

was a man and a woman for stealing glazed windows out of housen, and

that the man was hanged at daybreak, and the quean to be drowned, when

lo; they did fling her off the bridge, and fell in the water not far

from us. And oh! Margaret, the deadly splash! It ringeth in mine ears

even now. But worse was coming; for, though tied, she came up and cried

'help help!' and I, forgetting all, and hearing a woman's voice cry

'help!' was for leaping in to save her, and had surely done it, but the

boatmen and Cul de Jatte clung round me, and in a moment the bourreau's

man, that waited in a boat, came and entangled his hooked pole in her

long hair, and so thrust her down and ended her. Oh! if the saints

answered so our cries for help! And poor Cul de Jatte groaned, and I sat

sobbing and beat my breast and cried, 'Of what hath God made men's

hearts?'"

The reader stopped, and the tears trickled down her cheeks. Gerard

crying in Lorraine made her cry at Rotterdam. The leagues were no more

to her heart than the breadth of a room.

Eli, softened by many touches in the letter, and by the reader's womanly

graces, said kindly enough, "Take thy time, lass. And methinks some of

ye might find her a creepie to rest her foot, and she so near her own

trouble."

"I'd do more for her than that an I durst," said Catherine. "Here,

Cornelis," and she held out her little wooden stool, and that worthy,

who hated Margaret worse than ever, had to take the creepie and put it

carefully under her foot.

"You are very kind, dame," she faltered. "I will read on; 'tis all I can

do for you in turn."

"Thus seeing my master ashy and sore shaken, I deemed this horrible

tragic act came timeously to warn him, so I strove sore to turn him from

his ill ways, discoursing of sinners and their lethal end. 'Too late!'

said he, 'too late!' and gnashed his teeth. Then I told him 'too late'

was the divell's favourite whisper in repentant ears. Said I--

"'The Lord is débonair,

Let sinners nought despair.'

'Too late!' said he, and gnashed his teeth, and writhed his face, as

though vipers were biting his inward parts. But, dear heart, his was a

mind like running water. Ere we cleared the town he was carolling, and

outside the gate hung the other culprit from the bough of a little tree,

and scarce a yard above the ground. And that stayed my vagabone's music.

But, ere we had gone another furlong, he feigned to have dropped his

rosary, and ran back, with no good intent, as you shall hear. I strolled

on very slowly, and often halting, and presently he came stumping up on

one leg, and that bandaged. I asked him how he could contrive that, for

'twas masterly done. 'Oh, that was his mystery. Would I know that I

must join the brotherhood.' And presently we did pass a narrow lane, and

at the mouth on't espied a written stone, telling beggars by a word like

a wee pitchfork to go that way. ''Tis yon farm-house,' said he: 'bide

thou at hand.' And he went to the house, and came back with money, food,

and wine. 'This lad did the business,' said he, slapping his one leg

proudly. Then he undid the bandage, and with prideful face showed me a

hole in his calf you could have put your neef in. Had I been strange to

his tricks, here was a leg had drawn my last penny. Presently another

farm-house by the road. He made for it. I stood and asked myself should

I run away and leave him, not to be shamed in my own despite by him?

But, while I doubted, there was a great noise, and my master well

cudgelled by the farmer and his men, and came towards me hobbling and

holloaing; for the peasants had layed on heartily. But more trouble was

at his heels. Some mischievous wight loosed a dog as big as a jackass

colt, and came roaring after him, and downed him momently. I deeming the

poor rogue's death certain, and him least fit to die, drew my sword and

ran shouting. But, ere I could come near, the muckle dog had torn away

his bad leg, and ran growling to his lair with it; and Cul de Jatte

slipped his knot, and came running like a lapwing, with his hair on end,

and so striking with both crutches before and behind at unreal dogs as

'twas like a windmill crazed. He fled adown the road. I followed

leisurely, and found him at dinner. 'Curse the quiens,' said he. And not

a word all dinner-time but 'curse the quiens!'

"I said I must know who they were before I would curse them.

"'Quiens? why that was dogs. And I knew not even that much? He had made

a bad bargain.' 'Well, well,' said he; 'to-morrow we shall be in

Germany. There the folk are music-bitten, and they molest not beggars,

unless they fake to boot, and then they drown us out of hand that

moment, curse 'em!' We came to Strasburgh. And I looked down Rhine with

longing heart. The stream how swift! It seemed running to clip

Sevenbergen to its soft bosom. With but a piece of timber and an oar, I

might drift at my ease to thee, sleeping yet gliding still. 'Twas a sore

temptation. But the fear of an ill welcome from my folk, and of the

neighbours' sneers, and the hope of coming back to thee victorious, not,

as now I must, defeated and shamed, and thee with me, it did withhold

me; and so, with many sighs, and often turning of the head to look on

beloved Rhine, I turned sorrowful face and heavy heart towards

Augsburg."

"Alas, dame, alas. Good master Eli, forgive me! But I ne'er can win over

this part all at one time. It taketh my breath away. Well-a-day! Why did

he not listen to his heart? Had he not gone through peril enow, sorrow

enow? Well-a-day! well-a-day!"

The letter dropped from her hand, and she drooped like a wounded lily.

Then there was a clatter on the floor, and it was little Kate going on

her crutches, with flushed face, and eyes full of pity, to console her.

"Water, mother," she cried. "I am afeard she shall swoon."

"Nay, nay, fear me not," said Margaret, feebly. "I will not be so

troublesome. Thy good will it maketh me stouter hearted, sweet mistress

Kate. For, if thou carest how I fare, sure Heaven is not against me."

_Catherine._] "D'ye hear that, my man?"

_Eli._] "Ay, wife, I hear; and mark to boot."

Little Kate went back to her place, and Margaret read on. "The Germans

are fonder of armorials than the French. So I found work every day. And,

whiles I wrought, my master would leave me, and doff his raiment and don

his rags, and other infirmities, and cozen the world, which he did clepe

it 'plucking of the goose:' this done, would meet me and demand half my

earnings; and with restless piercing eye ask me would I be so base as

cheat my poor master by making three parts in lieu of two, till I

threatened to lend him a cuff to boot in requital of his suspicion; and

thenceforth took his due, with feigned confidence in my good faith, the

which his dancing eye belied. Early in Germany we had a quarrel. I had

seen him buy a skull of a jailer's wife, and mighty zealous a polishing

it. Thought I, 'How can he carry yon memento, and not repent, seeing

where ends his way?' Presently I did catch him selling it to a woman for

the head of St. Barnabas, with a tale had cozened an Ebrew. So I

snatched it out of their hands, and trundled it into the ditch. 'How,

thou impious knave,' said I, 'wouldst sell for a saint the skull of some

dead thief, thy brother.' He slunk away. But shallow she did crawl after

the skull, and with apron reverently dust it for Barnabas, and it

Barabbas; and so home with it. Said I, 'non vult anser velli, sed

populus vult decipi.'"

_Catherine._] "Oh, the goodly Latin!"

_Eli._] "What meaneth it?"

_Catherine._] "Nay, I know not; but 'tis Latin: is not that enow? He was

the flower of the flock."

* * * * *

"Then I to him, 'Take now thy psaltery, and part we here, for art a

walking prison, a walking hell.' But lo! my master fell on his knees,

and begged me for pity's sake not turn him off. 'What would become of

him? He did so love honesty.' 'Thou love honesty?' said I. 'Ay,' said

he, 'not to enact it; the saints forbid. But to look on. 'Tis so fair a

thing to look on. Alas, good Bon Bec,' said he; 'hadst starved

peradventure but for me. Kick not down thy ladder! Call ye that just?

Nay, calm thy choler! Have pity on me! I must have a pal: and how could

I bear one like myself after one so simple as thou? He might cut my

throat for the money that is hid in my belt. 'Tis not much; 'tis not

much. With thee I walk at mine ease; with a sharp I dare not go before

in a narrow way. Alas! forgive me. Now I know where in thy bonnet lurks

the bee, I will ware his sting; I will but pluck the secular goose.' 'So

be it,' said I. 'And example was contagious: he should be a true man by

then we reached Nurnberg. 'Twas a long way to Nurnberg.' Seeing him so

humble, I said, 'Well, doff rags, and make thyself decent; 'twill help

me forget what thou art.' And he did so; and we sat down to our

nonemete. Presently came by a reverend palmer with hat stuck round with

cockle shells from Holy Land, and great rosary of beads like eggs of

teal, and sandals for shoes. And he leaned aweary on his long staff, and

offered us a shell apiece. My master would none. But I to set him a

better example, took one, and for it gave the poor pilgrim two batzen,

and had his blessing. And he was scarce gone, when we heard savage

cries, and came a sorry sight, one leading a wild woman in a chain, all

rags, and howling like a wolf. And when they came nigh us, she fell to

tearing her rags to threads. The man sought an alms of us, and told us

his hard case. 'Twas his wife, stark raving mad; and he could not work

in the fields, and leave her in his house to fire it, nor cure her could

he without the Saintys help, and had vowed six pounds of wax to St.

Anthony to heal her, and so was fain beg of charitable folk for the

money. And now she espied us, and flew at me with her long nails, and I

was cold with fear, so devilish showed her face and rolling eyes and

nails like birdys talons. But he with the chain checked her sudden, and

with his whip did cruelly lash her for it, that I cried 'Forbear!

forbear! She knoweth not what she doth;' and gave him a batz. And being

gone, said I, 'Master of those twain I know not which is the more

pitiable.' And he laughed in my face. 'Behold thy justice, Bon Bec,'

said he. 'Thou railest on thy poor, good, within-an-ace-of-honest,

master, and bestowest alms on a "vopper."' 'Vopper,' said I; 'what is a

vopper? 'Why a trull that feigns madness. That was one of us, that sham

maniac, and wow but she did it clumsily. I blushed for her and thee.

Also gavest two batzen for a shell from Holy Land, that came no farther

than Normandy. I have culled them myself on that coast by scores, and

sold them to pilgrims true and pilgrims false, to gull flats like thee

withal.' 'What!' said I; 'that reverend man?' 'One of us!' cried Cul de

Jatte; 'one of us! In France we call them "Coquillarts," but here

"Calmierers." Railest on me for selling a false relic now and then, and

wastest thy earnings on such as sell nought else. I tell thee, Bon Bec,'

said he, 'there is not one true relic on earth's face. The saints died a

thousand years agone, and their bones mixed with the dust; but the trade

in relics, it is of yesterday; and there are forty thousand tramps in

Europe live by it; selling relics of forty or fifty bodies; oh,

threadbare lie! And of the true Cross enow to build Cologne Minster. Why

then may not poor Cul de Jatte turn his penny with the crowd? Art but a

scurvy tyrannical servant to let thy poor master from his share of the

swag with your whorson pilgrims, palmers, and friars, black, grey, and

crutched; for all these are of our brotherhood, and of our art, only

masters they, and we but poor apprentices, in guile.' For his tongue was

an ell and a half.

"'A truce to thy irreverend sophistries,' said I, 'and say what company

is this a-coming.' 'Bohemians,' cried he. 'Ay, ay, this shall be the

rest of the band.' With that came along so motley a crew as never your

eyes beheld, dear Margaret. Marched at their head one with a banner on a

steel-pointed lance, and girded with a great long sword, and in velvet

doublet and leathern jerkin, the which stuffs ne'er saw I wedded afore

on mortal flesh, and a gay feather in his lordly cap, and a couple of

dead fowls at his back, the which, an the spark had come by honestly, I

am much mistook. Him followed wives and babes on two lean horses, whose

flanks still rattled like parchment drum, being beaten by kettles and

caldrons. Next an armed man a-riding of a horse, which drew a cart full

of females and children: and in it, sitting backwards, a lusty lazy

knave, lance in hand, with his luxurious feet raised on a holy water

pail, that lay along, and therein a cat, new kittened, sat glowing o'er

her brood, and sparks for eyes. And the cart-horse cavalier had on his

shoulders a round bundle, and thereon did perch a cock and crowed with

zeal, poor ruffler, proud of his brave feathers as the rest, and haply

with more reason, being his own. And on an ass another wife and new-born

child; and one poor quean a-foot scarce dragged herself along, so near

her time was she, yet held two little ones by the hand, and helplessly

helped them on the road. And the little folk were just a farce; some

rode sticks, with horses' heads, between their legs, which pranced and

caracoled, and soon wearied the riders so sore, they stood stock still

and wept, which cavaliers were presently taken into cart and cuffed. And

one more grave, lost in a man's hat and feather, walked in Egyptian

darkness, handed by a girl; another had the great saucepan on his back,

and a tremendous three-footed clay pot sat on his head and shoulders,

swallowing him so as he too went darkling led by his sweetheart three

foot high. When they were gone by, and we had both laughed lustily, said

I, 'Natheless, master, my bowels they yearn for one of that tawdry band,

even for the poor wife so near the down-lying, scarce able to drag

herself, yet still, poor soul, helping the weaker on the way.'"

* * * * *

_Catherine._] "Nay, nay, Margaret. Why, wench, pluck up heart. Certes

thou art no Bohemian."

_Kate._] "Nay, mother, 'tis not that, I trow, but her father. And, dear

heart, why take notice to put her to the blush?"

_Richart._] "So I say."

"And he derided me. 'Why that is a "biltreger,"' said he, 'and you waste

your bowels on a pillow, or so forth.' I told him he lied. 'Time would

show,' said he, 'wait till they camp.' And rising after meat and

meditation, and travelling forward, we found them camped between two

great trees on a common by the wayside; and they had lighted a great

fire, and on it was their caldron; and, one of the trees slanting o'er

the fire, a kid hung down by a chain from the tree-fork to the fire, and

in the fork was wedged an urchin turning still the chain to keep the

meat from burning, and a gay spark with a feather in his cap cut up a

sheep; and another had spitted a leg of it on a wooden stake; and a

woman ended chanticleer's pride with wringing of his neck. And under the

other tree four ruffers played at cards and quarrelled, and no word sans

oath; and of these lewd gamblers one had cockles in his hat, and was my

reverend pilgrim. And a female, young and comely, and dressed like a

butterfly, sat and mended a heap of dirty rags. And Cul de Jatte said,

'Yon is the "vopper," 'and I looked incredulous and looked again, and it

was so, and at her feet sat he that had so late lashed her; but I ween

he had wist where to strike, or woe betide him; and she did now oppress

him sore, and made him thread her very needle, the which he did with all

humility; so was their comedy turned seamy side without: and Cul de

Jatte told me 'twas still so with 'voppers' and their men in camp; they

would don their bravery though but for an hour, and, with their tinsel,

empire, and the man durst not the least gainsay the 'vopper,' or she

would turn him off at these times, as I my master, and take another

tyrant more submissive. And my master chuckled over me. Natheless we

soon espied a wife set with her back against the tree, and her hair

down, and her face white, and by her side a wench held up to her eye a

new-born babe, with words of cheer, and the rough fellow, her husband,

did bring her hot wine in a cup, and bade her take courage. And, just

o'er the place she sat, they had pinned from bough to bough of those

neighbouring trees two shawls, and blankets two, together, to keep the

drizzle off her. And so had another poor little rogue come into the

world: and by her own particular folk tended gipsywise, but of the

roasters, and boilers, and voppers, and gamblers, no more noticed, no

not for a single moment, than sheep which droppeth her lamb in a field,

by travellers upon the way. Then said I, 'What of thy foul suspicions,

master? over-knavery blinds the eye as well as over-simplicity.' And he

laughed and said, 'Triumph, Bon Bec, triumph. The chances were nine in

ten against thee.' Then I did pity her, to be in a crowd at such a time;

but he rebuked me. 'I should pity rather your queens and royal

duchesses, which by law are condemned to groan in a crowd of nobles and

courtiers, and do writhe with shame as well as sorrow, being come of

decent mothers, whereas these gipsy women have no more shame under their

skins than a wolf ruth, or a hare valour. And, Bon Bec,' quoth he, 'I

espy in thee a lamentable fault. Wastest thy bowels. Wilt have none left

for thy poor good master which doeth thy will by night and day.' Then

we came forward; and he talked with the men in some strange Hebrew cant

whereof no word knew I; and the poor knaves bade us welcome and denied

us nought. With them, and all they had, 'twas lightly come and lightly

go; and when we left them my master said to me, 'This is thy first

lesson, but to-night we shall lie at Hansburgh. Come with me to the

"rotboss" there, and I'll show thee all our folk and their lays, and

especially "the lossners," "the dutzers," "the schleppers," "the

gickisses," "the schwanfelders," whom in England we call "shivering

Jemmies," "the süntvegers," "the schwiegers," "the joners," "the

sessel-degers," "the gensscherers," in France "marcandiers or rifodés,"

"the veranerins," "the stabulers," with a few foreigners like ourselves,

such as "pietres," "francmitoux," "polissons," "malingreux," "traters,"

"rufflers," "whipjalks," "dommerars," "glymmerars," "jarkmen,"

"patricos," "swadders," "autem morts," "walking morts,"'--'Enow,' cried

I, stopping him, 'art as gleesome as the Evil one a counting of his

imps. I'll jot down in my tablet all these caitiffs and their accursed

names, for knowledge is knowledge. But go among them, alive or dead,

that will I not with my good will. Moreover,' said I, 'what need? since

I have a companion in thee who is all the knaves on earth in one?' and

thought to abash him; but his face shone with pride, and hand on breast

he did bow low to me. 'If thy wit be scant, good Bon Bec, thy manners

are a charm. I have made a good bargain.' So he to the 'rotboss,' and I

to a decent inn, and sketched the landlord's daughter by candle-light,

and started at morn batzen three the richer, but could not find my

master, so loitered slowly on, and presently met him coming west for me,

and cursing the quiens. Why so? Because he could blind the culls but not

the quiens. At last I prevailed on him to leave cursing and canting, and

tell me his adventure. Said he, 'I sat outside the gate of yon

monastery, full of sores, which I showed the passers-by. Oh, Bon Bec,

beautifuller sores you never saw: and it rained coppers in my hat.

Presently the monks came home from some procession, and the convent dogs

ran out to meet them, curse the quiens!' 'What, did they fall on thee

and bite thee, poor soul?' 'Worse, worse, dear Bon Bec. Had they bitten

me I had earned silver. But the great idiots, being, as I think,

puppies, or little better, fell on me where I sat, downed me, and fell a

licking my sores among them. As thou, false knave, didst swear the

whelps in heaven licked the sores of Lazybones, a beggar of old.' 'Nay,

nay,' said I, 'I said no such thing. But tell me, since they bit thee

not, but sportfully licked thee, what harm?' 'What harm, noodle, why the

sores came off.' 'How could that be?' 'How could aught else be? and them

just fresh put on. Did I think he was so weak as bite holes in his flesh

with ratsbane? Nay, he was an artist, a painter like his servant, and

had put on sores made of pig's blood, rye meal, and glue. So when the

folk saw my sores go on tongues of puppies, they laughed, and I saw cord

or sack before me. So up I jumped, and shouted, "a miracle! a miracle!

The very dogs of this holy convent be holy, and have cured me. Good

fathers," cried I, "whose day is this?" "St. Isidore's," said one. "St.

Isidore," cried I, in a sort of rapture. "Why, St. Isidore is my patron

saint: so that accounts." And the simple folk swallowed my miracle as

those accursed quiens my wounds. But the monks took me inside and shut

the gate, and put their heads together; but I have a quick ear, and one

did say "caret miraculo monasterium," which is Greek patter I trow,

leastways it is no beggar's cant. Finally they bade the lay-brethren

give me a hiding, and take me out a back way and put me on the road, and

threatened me did I come back to the town to hand me to the magistrate

and have me drowned for a plain impostor. "Profit now by the Church's

grace," said they, "and mend thy ways." So forward, Bon Bec, for my life

is not sure nigh hand this town.' As he went he worked his shoulders,

'Wow but the brethren laid on. And what means yon piece of monk's cant,

I wonder?' So I told him the words meant 'the monastery is in want of a

miracle,' but the application thereof was dark to me. 'Dark,' cried he,

'dark as noon. Why it means they are going to work the miracle, my

miracle, and gather all the grain I sowed. Therefore these blows on

their benefactor's shoulders; therefore is he that wrought their scurvy

miracle driven forth with stripes and threats. Oh, cozening knaves!'

Said I, 'becomes you to complain of guile.' 'Alas, Bon Bec,' said he, 'I

but outwit the simple; but these monks would pluck Lucifer of his wing

feathers.' And went a league bemoaning himself that he was not

convent-bred like his servant. 'He would put it to more profit;' and

railing on quiens. 'And as for those monks, there was one Above.'

'Certes,' said I, 'there is one Above. What then?' 'Who will call those

shavelings to compt, one day,' quoth he. 'And all deceitful men,' said

I. At one that afternoon I got armories to paint: so my master took the

yellow jaundice and went begging through the town, and with his oily

tongue, and saffron-water face, did fill his hat. Now in all the towns

are certain licensed beggars, and one of these was an old favourite with

the townsfolk: had his station at St. Martin's porch, the greatest

church: a blind man: they called him blind Hans. He saw my master

drawing coppers on the other side of the street, and knew him by his

tricks for an impostor, so sent and warned the constables, and I met my

master in the constables' hands, and going to his trial in the town

hall. I followed and many more; and he was none abashed, neither by the

pomp of justice, nor memory of his misdeeds, but demanded his accuser

like a trumpet. And blind Hans's boy came forward, but was sifted

narrowly by my master, and stammered, and faltered, and owned he had

seen nothing, but only carried blind Hans's tale to the chief constable.

'This is but hearsay,' said my master. 'Lo ye now, here standeth

Misfortune backbit by Envy. But stand thou forth, blind Envy, and vent

thine own lie.' And blind Hans behoved to stand forth, sore against his

will. Him did my master so press with questions, and so pinch and

torture, asking him again and again, how, being blind, he could see all

that befell, and some that befell not, across a way; and why, an he

could not see, he came there holding up his perjured hand, and maligning

the misfortunate, that at last he groaned aloud and would utter no word

more. And an alderman said, 'In sooth, Hans, ye are to blame: hast cast

more dirt of suspicion on thyself than on him." But the burgomaster, a

wondrous fat man, and methinks of his fat some had gotten into his head,

checked him and said, 'Nay, Hans we know this many years, and, be he

blind or not, he hath passed for blind so long, 'tis all one. Back to

thy porch, good Hans, and let the strange varlet leave the town

incontinent on pain of whipping.' Then my master winked to me; but there

rose a civic officer in his gown of state and golden chain, a Dignity

with us lightly prized, and even shunned of some, but in Germany and

France much courted, save by condemned malefactors; to wit the hangman;

and says he, 'An't please you, first let us see why he weareth his hair

so thick and low.' And his man went and lifted Cul de Jatte's hair, and

lo the upper gristle of both ears was gone. 'How is this, knave?' quoth

the burgomaster. My master said, carelessly, he minded not precisely:

his had been a life of misfortunes and losses. 'When a poor soul has

lost use of his leg, noble sirs, these more trivial woes rest lightly in

his memory.' When he found this would not serve his turn, he named two

famous battles, in each of which he had lost half an ear, a fighting

like a true man against traitors and rebels. But the hangman showed them

the two cuts were made at one time, and by measurement. ''Tis no

bungling soldier's work, my masters,' said he, ''tis ourn.' Then the

burgomaster gave judgment: 'The present charge is not proven against

thee; but, an thou beest not guilty now, thou hast been at other times,

witness thine ears. Wherefore I send thee to prison for one month, and

to give a florin towards the new hall of the guilds now a building, and

to be whipt out of the town, and pay the hangman's fee for the same.'

And all the aldermen approved, and my master was haled to prison with

one look of anguish. It did strike my bosom. I tried to get speech of

him, but the jailer denied me. But lingering near the jail I heard a

whistle, and there was Cul de Jatte at a narrow window twenty feet from

earth. I went under, and he asked me what made I there? I told him I was

loth to go forward and not bid him farewell. He seemed quite amazed; but

soon his suspicious soul got the better. That was not all mine errand. I

told him not all: the psaltery: 'Well, what of that?' 'Twas not mine,

but his; I would pay him the price of it. 'Then throw me a rix dollar,'

said he. I counted out my coins, and they came to a rix dollar and two

batzen. I threw him up his money in three throws, and when he had got it

all he said, softly, 'Bon Bec.' 'Master,' said I. Then the poor rogue

was greatly moved. 'I thought ye had been mocking me,' said he; 'oh, Bon

Bec, Bon Bec, if I had found the world like thee at starting I had put

my wit to better use, and I had not lain here.' Then he whimpered out,

'I gave not quite a rix dollar for the jingler;' and threw me back that

he had gone to cheat me of; honest for once, and over late; and so, with

many sighs, bade me Godspeed. Thus did my master, after often baffling

men's justice, fall by their injustice; for his lost ears proved not his

guilt only, but of that guilt the bitter punishment: so the account was

even; yet they for his chastisement did chastise him. Natheless he was a

parlous rogue. Yet he holp to make a man of me. Thanks to his good wit I

went forward richer far with my psaltery and brush, than with yon as

good as stolen purse; for that must have run dry in time, like a big

trough, but these a little fountain."

_Richart._] "How pregnant his reflections be; and but a curly pated lad

when last I saw him. Asking your pardon, mistress. Prithee read on."

"One day I walked alone, and, sooth to say, light hearted, for mine

honest Denys sweetened the air on the way; but poor Cul de Jatte

poisoned it. The next day, passing a grand house, out came on prancing

steeds a gentleman in brave attire and two servants; they overtook me.

The gentleman bade me halt. I laughed in my sleeve; for a few batzen

were all my store. He bade me doff my doublet and jerkin. Then I

chuckled no more. 'Bethink you, my lord,' said I, ''tis winter. How may

a poor fellow go bare and live?' So he told me I shot mine arrow wide of

his thought; and off with his own gay jerkin, richly furred, and doublet

to match, and held them forth to me. Then a servant let me know it was a

penance. 'His lordship had had the ill luck to slay his cousin in their

cups.' Down to my shoes he changed with me; and set me on his horse like

a popinjay, and fared by my side in my worn weeds, with my psaltery on

his back. And said he, 'Now, good youth, thou art Count Detstein; and I,

late count, thy Servant. Play thy part well, and help me save my

blood-stained soul! Be haughty and choleric, as any noble; and I will be

as humble as I may.' I said I would do my best to play the noble. But

what should I call him? He bade me call him nought but Servant. That

would mortify him most, he wist. We rode on a long way in silence: for I

was meditating this strange chance, that from a beggar's servant had

made me master to a count, and also cudgelling my brains how best I

might play the master, without being run through the body all at one

time like his cousin. For I mistrusted sore my spark's humility; your

German nobles being, to my knowledge, proud as Lucifer, and choleric as

fire. As for the servants, they did slily grin to one another to see

their master so humbled--"

"_Ah! what is that?_"

A lump, as of lead, had just bounced against the door, and the latch was

fumbled with unsuccessfully. Another bounce, and the door swung inwards

with Giles arrayed in cloth of gold sticking to it like a wasp. He

landed on the floor and was embraced; but, on learning what was going

on, trumpeted that he would much liever hear of Gerard than gossip.

Sybrandt pointed to a diminutive chair.

Giles showed his sense of this civility by tearing the said Sybrandt out

of a very big one, and there ensconced himself gorgeous and glowing.

Sybrandt had to wedge himself into the one, which was too small for the

magnificent dwarf's soul, and Margaret resumed. But as this part of the

letter was occupied with notices of places, all which my reader probably

knows, and, if not, can find handled at large in a dozen well-known

books, from Munster to Murray, I skip the topography, and hasten to that

part where it occurred to him to throw his letter into a journal. The

personal narrative that intervened may be thus condensed.

He spoke but little at first to his new companions, but listened to pick

up their characters. Neither his noble Servant nor his servants could

read or write; and as he often made entries in his tablets, he impressed

them with some awe. One of his entries was "Le peu que sont les hommes."

For he found the surly innkeepers licked the very ground before him now;

nor did a soul suspect the hosier's son in the count's feathers, nor the

count in the minstrel's weeds. This seems to have surprised him; for he

enlarged on it with the naïveté and pomposity of youth. At one place,

being humbly requested to present the inn with his armorial bearings, he

consented loftily; but painted them himself, to mine host's wonder, who

thought he lowered himself by handling brush. The true count stood

grinning by, and held the paint-pot, while the sham count painted a

shield with three red herrings rampant under a sort of Maltese cross

made with two ell-measures. At first his plebeian servants were

insolent. But this coming to the notice of his noble one, he forgot what

he was doing penance for, and drew his sword to cut off their ears,

heads included. But Gerard interposed and saved them, and rebuked the

count severely. And finally they all understood one another, and the

superior mind obtained its natural influence. He played the barbarous

noble of that day vilely. For his heart would not let him be either

tyrannical or cold. Here were three human beings. He tried to make them

all happier than he was; held them ravished with stories, and songs, and

set Herr Penitent & Co. dancing, with his whistle and psaltery. For his

own convenience he made them ride and tie, and thus pushed rapidly

through the country, travelling generally fifteen leagues a day.

DIARY

"THIS first of January I observed a young man of the country to meet a

strange maiden, and kissed his hand, and then held it out to her. She

took it with a smile, and lo! acquaintance made; and babbled like old

friends. Greetings so pretty and delicate I ne'er did see. Yet were they

both of the baser sort. So the next lass I saw a coming, I said to my

servant lord, 'For further penance bow thy pride; go meet yon base-born

girl; kiss thy homicidal hand, and give it her, and hold her in

discourse as best ye may.' And my noble Servant said, humbly, 'I shall

obey my lord.' And we drew rein and watched while he went forward,

kissed his hand and held it out to her. Forthwith she took it smiling,

and was most affable with him, and he with her. Presently came up a band

of her companions. So this time I bade him doff his bonnet to them, as

though they were empresses; and he did so. And lo! the lasses drew up as

stiff as hedge-stakes, and moved not nor spake."

_Denys._] "Aie! aie! aie! Pardon, the company."

"This surprised me none; for so they did discountenance poor Denys. And

that whole day I wore in experimenting these German lasses; and 'twas

still the same. An' ye doff bonnet to them they stiffen into statues;

distance for distance. But accost them with honest freedom, and with

that customary, and, though rustical, most gracious proffer, of the

kissed hand, and they withhold neither their hands in turn nor their

acquaintance in an honest way. Seeing which I vexed myself that Denys

was not with us to prattle with them; he is so fond of women." ("Are you

fond of _women_, Denys?") And the reader opened two great violet eyes

upon him with gentle surprise.

_Denys._] "Ahem! He says so, she-comrade. By Hannibal's helmet 'tis

their fault, not mine. They _will_ have such soft voices, and white

skins, and sunny hair, and dark blue eyes, and--"

_Margaret._] (Reading suddenly.) "Which their affability I put to profit

thus. I asked them how they made shift to grow roses in yule? For know,

dear Margaret, that throughout Germany the baser sort of lasses wear for

head-dress nought but a 'crantz,' or wreath of roses, encircling their

bare hair, as laurel Cæsar's; and though of the worshipful scorned, yet

is braver, I wist, to your eye and mine which painters be, though sorry

ones, than the gorgeous, uncouth, mechanical head-gear of the time, and

adorns, not hides her hair, that goodly ornament fitted to her head by

craft divine. So the good lasses, being questioned close, did let me

know, the rose-buds are cut in summer and laid then in great clay pots,

thus ordered:--first bay salt, then a row of buds, and over that row bay

salt sprinkled; then another row of buds placed crosswise; for they say

it is death to the buds to touch one another; and so on, buds and salt

in layers. Then each pot is covered and soldered tight, and kept in cool

cellar. And on Saturday night the master of the house, or mistress, if

master be none, opens a pot, and doles the rose-buds out to every female

in the house, high or low, withouten grudge; then solders it up again.

And such, as of these buds would full-blown roses make, put them in warm

water a little space, or else in the stove, and then with tiny brush and

soft, wetted in Rhenish wine, do coax them till they ope their folds.

And some perfume them with rose-water. For, alack, their smell it is

fled with the summer; and only their fair bodyes lie withouten soul, in

tomb of clay, awaiting resurrection.

"And some with the roses and buds mix nutmegs gilded, but not by my good

will; for gold, brave in itself, cheek by jowl with roses, is but yellow

earth. And it does the eye's heart good to see these fair heads of hair

come, blooming with roses, over snowy roads, and by snow capt hedges,

setting winter's beauty by the side of summer's glory. For what so fair

as winter's lilies, snow yclept, and what so brave as roses? And

shouldst have had a picture here, but for their superstition. Leaned a

lass in Sunday garb, cross ankled, against her cottage corner, whose low

roof was snowclad, and with her crantz did seem a summer flower

sprouting from winter's bosom. I drew rein, and out pencil and brush to

limn her for thee. But the simpleton, fearing the evil eye, or glamour,

claps both hands to her face and flies panic-stricken. But, indeed, they

are not more superstitious than the Sevenbergen folk, which take thy

father for a magician. Yet softly, sith at this moment I profit by this

darkness of their minds; for, at first sitting down to write this diary,

I could frame nor thought nor word, so harried and deaved was I with

noise of mechanical persons, and hoarse laughter at dull jests of one

of these parti-coloured 'fools,' which are so rife in Germany. But, oh,

sorry wit, that is driven to the poor resource of pointed ear-caps, and

a green and yellow body. True wit, methinks, is of the mind. We met in

Burgundy an honest wench, though over free for my palate, a chambermaid,

had made havoc of all these zanies, droll by brute force. Oh, Digressor!

Well then, I to be rid of roaring rusticalls, and mindless jests, put my

finger in a glass and drew on the table a great watery circle; whereat

the rusticalls did look askant, like venison at a cat; and in that

circle a smaller circle. The rusticalls held their peace; and besides

these circles cabalistical, I laid down on the table solemnly yon

parchment deed I had out of your house. The rusticalls held their

breath. Then did I look as glum as might be, and muttered slowly thus:

'Videamus--quam diu tu fictus morio--vosque veri stulti--audebitis--in

hâc aulâ morari, strepitantes ita--et olentes--ut dulcissimæ nequeam

miser scribere.' They shook like aspens, and stole away on tiptoe one by

one at first, then in a rush and jostling, and left me alone; and most

scared of all was the fool: never earned jester fairer his ass's ears.

So rubbed I their foible, who first rubbed mine; for of all a

traveller's foes I dread those giants twain, Sir Noise, and eke Sir

Stench. The saints and martyrs forgive my peevishness. Thus I write to

thee in balmy peace, and tell thee trivial things scarce worth ink, also

how I love thee, which there was no need to tell, for well thou knowest

it. And, oh, dear Margaret, looking on their roses, which grew in

summer, but blow in winter, I see the picture of our true affection;

born it was in smiles and bliss, but soon adversity beset us sore with

many a bitter blast. Yet our love hath lost no leaf, thank God, but

blossoms full and fair as ever, proof against frowns, and jibes, and

prison, and banishment, as those sweet German flowers a blooming in

winter's snow.

"_January 2nd._--My servant, the count, finding me curious, took me to

the stables of the prince that rules this part. In the first court was a

horse-bath, adorned with twenty-two pillars, graven with the prince's

arms; and also the horse-leech's shop, so furnished as a rich apothecary

might envy. The stable is a fair quadrangle, whereof three sides filled

with horses of all nations. Before each horse's nose was a glazed

window, with a green curtain to be drawn at pleasure, and at his tail a

thick wooden pillar with a brazen shield, whence by turning of a pipe he

is watered, and serves too for a cupboard to keep his comb and rubbing

clothes. Each rack was iron, and each manger shining copper, and each

nag covered with a scarlet mantle, and above him his bridle and saddle

hung, ready to gallop forth in a minute; and not less than two hundred

horses, whereof twelve score of foreign breed. And we returned to our

inn full of admiration, and the two varlets said sorrowfully, 'Why were

we born with two legs?' And one of the grooms that was civil and had of

me trinkgeld, stood now at his cottage-door and asked us in. There we

found his wife and children of all ages, from five to eighteen, and had

but one room to bide and sleep in, a thing pestiferous and most uncivil.

Then I asked my Servant, knew he this prince? Ay, did he, and had often

drunk with him in a marble chamber above the stable, where, for table,

was a curious and artificial rock, and the drinking vessels hang on its

pinnacles, and at the hottest of the engagement a statue of a horseman

in bronze came forth bearing a bowl of liquor, and he that sat nearest

behoved to drain it. ''Tis well,' said I: 'now for thy penance, whisper

thou in yon prince's ear, that God hath given him his people freely, and

not sought a price for them as for horses. And pray him look inside the

huts at his horse-palace door, and bethink himself it is well to house

his horses, and stable his folk.' Said he, ''Twill give sore offence.'

'But,' said I, 'ye must do it discreetly and choose your time.' So he

promised. And riding on we heard plaintive cries. 'Alas,' said I, 'some

sore mischance hath befallen some poor soul: what may it be?' And we

rode up, and lo! it was a wedding feast, and the guests were plying the

business of drinking sad and silent, but ever and anon cried loud and

dolefully, 'Seyte frolich! Be merry.'

"_January 3._--Yesterday between Nurnberg and Augsburg we parted

company. I gave my lord, late Servant, back, his brave clothes for mine,

but his horse he made me keep, and five gold pieces, and said he was

still my debtor, his penance it had been slight along of me, but

profitable. But his best word was this: 'I see 'tis more noble to be

loved than feared.' And then he did so praise me as I blush to put on

paper; yet, poor fool, would fain thou couldst hear his words, but from

some other pen than mine. And the servants did heartily grasp my hand,

and wish me good luck. And riding apace, yet could I not reach Augsburg

till the gates were closed; but it mattered little, for this Augsburg it

is an enchanted city. For a small coin one took me a long way round to

a famous postern called der Einlasse. Here stood two guardians, like

statues. To them I gave my name and business. They nodded me leave to

knock; I knocked; and the iron gate opened with a great noise and hollow

rattling of a chain, but no hand seen nor chain; and he, who drew the

hidden chain, sits a butt's length from the gate; and I rode in, and the

gate closed with a clang after me. I found myself in a great building

with a bridge at my feet. This I rode over and presently came to a

porter's lodge, where one asked me again my name and business, then rang

a bell, and a great portcullis that barred the way began to rise, drawn

by a wheel overhead, and no hand seen. Behind the portcullis was a thick

oaken door studded with steel. It opened without hand, and I rode into a

hall as dark as pitch. Trembling there a while, a door opened and showed

me a smaller hall lighted. I rode into it: a tin goblet came down from

the ceiling by a little chain: I put two batzen into it, and it went up

again. Being gone, another thick door creaked and opened, and I rid

through. It closed on me with a tremendous clang, and behold me in

Augsburg city. I lay at an inn called 'The Three Moors,' over an hundred

years old; and, this morning, according to my way of viewing towns to

learn their compass and shape, I mounted the highest tower I could find,

and setting my dial at my foot surveyed the beautiful city: whole

streets of palaces, and churches tiled with copper burnished like gold;

and the house fronts gaily painted and all glazed, and the glass so

clean and burnished as 'tis most resplendent and rare; and I, now first

seeing a great citie, did crow with delight, and like a cock on his

ladder, and at the tower foot was taken into custody for a spy; for

whilst I watched the city the watchman had watched me. The burgomaster

received me courteously and heard my story; then rebuked he the

officers. 'Could ye not question him yourselves, or read in his face?

This is to make our city stink in stranger's report.' Then he told me my

curiosity was of a commendable sort: and seeing I was a craftsman and

inquisitive, bade his clerk take me among the guilds. God bless the city

where the very burgomaster is cut of Solomon's cloth!

"_January 5._--Dear Margaret, it is a noble city, and a kind mother to

arts. Here they cut in wood and ivory, that 'tis like spiders' work, and

paint on glass, and sing angelical harmonies. Writing of books is quite

gone by; here be six printers. Yet was I offered a bountiful wage to

write fairly a merchant's accounts, one Fugger, a grand and wealthy

trader, and hath store of ships, yet his father was but a poor weaver.

But here in commerce, her very garden, men swell like mushrooms. And he

bought my horse of me, and abated me not a jot, which way of dealing is

not known in Holland. But, oh, Margaret, the workmen of all the guilds

are so kind and brotherly to one another, and to me. Here, methinks, I

have found the true German mind, loyal, frank, and kindly, somewhat

choleric withal, but nought revengeful. Each mechanic wears a sword. The

very weavers at the loom sit girded with their weapons, and all Germans

on too slight occasion draw them and fight; but no treachery: challenge

first, then draw, and with the edge only, mostly the face, not with Sir

Point; for if in these combats one thrust at his adversary and hurt him,

'tis called ein schelemstucke, a heinous act; both men and women turn

their backs on him, and even the judges punish thrusts bitterly, but

pass over cuts. Hence in Germany be good store of scarred faces, three

in five at least, and in France scarce more than one in three.

"But in arts mechanical no citizens may compare with these. Fountains in

every street that play to heaven, and in the gardens seeming trees,

which being approached, one standing afar touches a spring, and every

twig shoots water, and souses the guests to their host's much

delectation. Big culverins of war they cast with no more ado than our

folk horse-shoes, and have done this fourscore years. All stuffs they

weave, and linen fine as ours at home, or nearly, which elsewhere in

Europe vainly shall you seek. Sir Printing Press--sore foe to poor

Gerard, but to other humans beneficial--plieth by night and day, and

casteth goodly words like sower afield; while I, poor fool, can but sow

them as I saw women in France sow rye, dribbling it in the furrow grain

by grain. And of their strange mechanical skill take two examples. For

ending of exemplary rogues they have a figure like a woman, seven feet

high, and called Jung Frau; but lo a spring is touched, she seizeth the

poor wretch with iron arms, and opening herself hales him inside her,

and there pierces him through and through with two score lances.

Secondly, in all great houses the spit is turned not by a scrubby boy,

but by smoke. Ay, mayst well admire, and judge me a lying knave. These

cunning Germans do set in the chimney a little windmill, and the smoke

struggling to wend past, turns it, and from the mill a wire runs

through the wall and turns the spit on wheels; beholding which I doffed

my bonnet to the men of Augsburg, for who but these had ere devised to

bind ye so dark and subtle a knave as Sir Smoke, and set him to roast

Dame Pullet?

"This day, January 8, with three craftsmen of the town, I painted a pack

of cards. They were for a senator in a hurry. I the diamonds. My queen

came forth with eyes like spring violets, hair a golden brown, and

witching smile. My fellow-craftsmen saw her, and put their arms round my

neck and hailed me master. Oh, noble Germans! No jealousy of a

brother-workman: no sour looks at a stranger: and would have me spend

Sunday with them after matins; and the merchant paid me so richly, as I

was ashamed to take the guerdon: and I to my inn, and tried to paint the

queen of diamonds for poor Gerard; but no, she would not come like

again. Luck will not be bespoke. Oh, happy rich man that hath got her!

Fie! fie! Happy Gerard, that shall have herself one day, and keep house

with her at Augsburg.

"_January 8._--With my fellows, and one Veit Stoss, a wood-carver, and

one Hafnagel, of the goldsmiths' guild, and their wives and lasses, to

Hafnagel's cousin, a senator of this free city, and his stupendious

wine-vessel. It is ribbed like a ship, and hath been eighteen months in

hand, and finished but now, and holds a hundred and fifty hogsheads, and

standeth not, but lieth; yet even so ye get not on his back withouten

ladders two, of thirty steps. And we sat about the miraculous mass, and

drank Rhenish from it, drawn by a little artificial pump, and the lasses

pinned their crantzes to it, and we danced round it, and the senator

danced on its back, but with drinking of so many garausses, lost his

footing and fell off, glass in hand, and broke an arm and a leg in the

midst of us. So scurvily ended our drinking bout for this time.

"_January 10._--This day started for Venice with a company of merchants,

and among them him who had desired me for his scrivener; and so we are

now agreed, I to write at night the letters he shall dict, and other

matters, he to feed and lodge me on the road. We be many and armed, and

soldiers with us to boot, so fear not the thieves which men say lie on

the borders of Italy. But an if I find the printing press at Venice I

trow I shall not go on to Rome, for man may not vie with iron.

"Imprimit una dies quantum non scribitur anno. And, dearest, something

tells me you and I shall end our days at Augsburg, whence going, I shall

leave it all I can--my blessing.

"_January 12._--My master affecteth me much, and now maketh me sit with

him in his horse-litter. A grave good man, of all respected, but sad for

loss of a dear daughter, and loveth my psaltery: not giddy-paced

ditties, but holy harmonies such as Cul de Jatte made wry mouths at. So

many men, so many minds. But cooped in horse-litter and at night,

writing his letters, my journal halteth.

"_January 14._--When not attending on my good merchant, I consort with

such of our company as are Italians, for 'tis to Italy I wend, and I am

ill seen in Italian tongue. A courteous and a subtle people, at meat

delicate feeders, and cleanly: love not to put their left hand in the

dish. They say Venice is the garden of Lombardy, Lombardy the garden of

Italy, Italy of the world.

"_January 16._--Strong ways and steep, and the mountain girls so girded

up, as from their armpits to their waist is but a handful. Of all the

garbs I yet have seen the most unlovely.

"_January 18._--In the midst of life we are in death. Oh! dear Margaret,

I thought I had lost thee. Here I lie in pain and dole, and shall write

thee that, which read you it in a romance ye should cry 'most

improbable!' And so still wondering that I am alive to write it, and

thanking for it God and the saints, this is what befell thy Gerard.

Yestreen I wearied of being shut up in litter, and of the mule's slow

pace, and so went forward; and being, I know not why, strangely full of

spirit and hope, as I have heard befall some men when on trouble's

brink, seemed to tread on air, and soon outdistanced them all. Presently

I came to two roads; and took the larger: I should have taken the

smaller. After travelling a good half-hour I found my error and

returned, and deeming my company had long passed by, pushed bravely on,

but I could not overtake them; and small wonder, as you shall hear. Then

I was anxious, and ran, but bare was the road of those I sought, and

night came down, and the wild beasts afoot, and I bemoaned my folly,

also I was hungered. The moon rose clear and bright exceedingly, and

presently, a little way off the road, I saw a tall wind-mill. 'Come,'

said I, 'mayhap the miller will take ruth on me.' Near the mill was a

haystack, and scattered about were store of little barrels, but lo, they

were not flour-barrels but tar-barrels, one or two, and the rest of

spirits, Brant vein and Schiedam; I knew them momently, having seen the

like in Holland. I knocked at the mill door, but none answered. I

lifted the latch and the door opened inwards. I went in, and gladly, for

the night was fine but cold, and a rime on the trees, which were a kind

of lofty sycamores. There was a stove, but black; I lighted it with some

of the hay and wood, for there was a great pile of wood outside: and, I

know not how, I went to sleep. Not long had I slept, I trow, when

hearing a noise I awoke, and there were a dozen men around me, with wild

faces, and long black hair, and black sparkling eyes."

_Catherine._] "Oh, my poor boy! those blackhaired ones do still scare me

to look on."

"I made my excuses in such Italian as I knew, and eking out by signs.

They grinned. 'I had lost my company.' They grinned. I was an hungered.

Still they grinned, and spoke to one another in a tongue I knew not. At

last one gave me a piece of bread and a tin mug of wine, as I thought,

but it was spirits neat. I made a wry face, and asked for water: then

these wild men laughed a horrible laugh. I thought to fly, but, looking

towards the door, it was bolted with two enormous bolts of iron, and now

first, as I ate my bread, I saw it was all guarded too, and ribbed with

iron. My blood curdled within me, and yet I could not tell thee why; but

hadst thou seen the faces, wild, stupid, and ruthless. I mumbled my

bread, not to let them see I feared them; but oh, it cost me to swallow

it and keep it in me. Then it whirled in my brain, was there no way to

escape? Said I, 'They will not let me forth by the door; these be

smugglers or robbers.' So I feigned drowsiness, and taking out two

batzen said, 'Good men, for our Lady's grace let me lie on a bed and

sleep, for I am faint with travel.' They nodded and grinned their

horrible grin, and bade one light a lanthorn and lead me. He took me up

a winding staircase, up, up, and I saw no windows, but the wooden walls

were pierced like a barbican tower, and methinks for the same purpose,

and through these slits I got glimpses of the sky, and thought, 'Shall I

e'er see thee again?' He took me to the very top of the mill, and there

was a room with a heap of straw in one corner, and many empty barrels,

and by the wall a truckle bed. He pointed to it, and went down stairs

heavily, taking the light, for in this room was a great window, and the

moon came in bright. I looked out to see, and lo it was so high that

even the mill sails at their highest came not up to my window by some

feet, but turned very slow and stately underneath, for wind there was

scarce a breath: and the trees seemed silver filagree made by angel

craftsmen. My hope of flight was gone.

"But now, those wild faces being out of sight, I smiled at my fears:

what an if they were ill men, would it profit them to hurt me?

Natheless, for caution against surprise, I would put the bed against the

door. I went to move it, but could not. It was free at the head, but at

the foot fast clamped with iron to the floor. So I flung my psaltery on

the bed, but for myself made a layer of straw at the door, so as none

could open on me unawares. And I laid my sword ready to my hand. And

said my prayers for thee and me, and turned to sleep.

"Below they drank and made merry. And hearing this gave me confidence.

Said I, 'Out of sight, out of mind. Another hour and the good Schiedam

will make them forget that I am here.' And so I composed myself to

sleep. And for some time could not for the boisterous mirth below. At

last I dropped off. How long I slept I knew not; but I woke with a

start: the noise had ceased below, and the sudden silence woke me. And

scarce was I awake, when sudden the truckle bed was gone with a loud

clang all but the feet, and the floor yawned, and I heard my psaltery

fall and break to atoms deep, deep below the very floor of the mill. It

had fallen into a well. And so had I done, lying where it lay."

Margaret shuddered and put her face in her hands. But speedily resumed.

"I lay stupefied at first. Then horror fell on me and I rose, but stood

rooted there, shaking from head to foot. At last I found myself looking

down into that fearsome gap, and my very hair did bristle as I peered.

And then, I remember, I turned quite calm, and made up my mind to die

sword in hand. For I saw no man must know this their bloody secret and

live. And I said 'Poor Margaret!' And I took out of my bosom, where they

lie ever, our marriage lines, and kissed them again and again. And I

pinned them to my shirt again, that they might lie in one grave with me,

if die I must. And I thought 'All our love and hopes to end thus!'"

* * * * *

_Eli._] "Whist all! Their marriage lines? Give her time! But no word. I

can bear no chat. My poor lad!"

During the long pause that ensued Catherine leaned forward and passed

something adroitly from her own lap under her daughter's apron who sat

next her.

"Presently thinking, all in a whirl, of all that ever passed between us,

and taking leave of all those pleasant hours, I called to mind how one

day at Sevenbergen thou taughtest me to make a rope of straw. Mindst

thou? The moment memory brought that happy day back to me, I cried out

very loud: 'Margaret gives me a chance for life even here.' I woke from

my lethargy. I seized on the straw and twisted it eagerly, as thou didst

teach me, but my fingers trembled and delayed the task. Whiles I wrought

I heard a door open below. That was a terrible moment. Even as I twisted

my rope I got to the window and looked down at the great arms of the

mill coming slowly up, then passing, then turning less slowly down, as

it seemed; and I thought 'They go not as when there is wind: yet, slow

or fast, what man rid ever on such steed as these, and lived? Yet, said

I, 'better trust to them and God, than to ill men.' And I prayed to him

whom even the wind obeyeth.

"Dear Margaret, I fastened my rope, and let myself gently down, and

fixed my eye on that huge arm of the mill, which then was creeping up to

me, and went to spring on to it. But my heart failed me at the pinch.

And methought it was near enow. And it passed calm and awful by. I

watched for another; they were three. And after a little while one crept

up slower than the rest methought. And I with my foot thrust myself in

good time somewhat out from the wall, and crying aloud 'Margaret!' did

grip with all my soul the wood work of the sail, and that moment was

swimming in the air."

_Giles._] "WELL DONE! WELL DONE!"

"Motion I felt little; but the stars seemed to go round the sky, and

then the grass came up to me nearer and nearer, and when the hoary grass

was quite close I was sent rolling along it as if hurled from a

catapult, and got up breathless, and every point and tie about me

broken. I rose, but fell down again in agony. I had but one leg I could

stand on."

_Catherine._] "Eh! dear! his leg is broke, my boy's leg is broke."

"And, e'en as I lay groaning, I heard a sound like thunder. It was the

assassins running up the stairs. The crazy old mill shook under them.

They must have found I had not fallen into their bloody trap, and were

running to despatch me. Margaret, I felt no fear, for I had now no hope.

I could neither run, nor hide; so wild the place, so bright the moon. I

struggled up all agony and revenge, more like some wounded wild beast

than your Gerard. Leaning on my sword hilt I hobbled round; and swift as

lightning, or vengeance, I heaped a great pile of their hay and wood at

the mill door; then drove my dagger into a barrel of their smuggled

spirits, and flung it on; then out with my tinder and lighted the pile.

'This will bring true men round my dead body,' said I. 'Aha!' I cried,

'think you I'll die alone, cowards, assassins! reckless fiends!' and at

each word on went a barrel pierced. But, oh, Margaret! the fire fed by

the spirits surprised me: it shot up and singed my very hair, it went

roaring up the side of the mill, swift as falls the lightning: and I

yelled and laughed in my torture and despair, and pierced more barrels,

and the very tar-barrels, and flung them on. The fire roared like a lion

for its prey, and voices answered it inside from the top of the mill,

and the feet came thundering down, and I stood as near that awful fire

as I could with uplifted sword to slay and be slain. The bolt was drawn.

A tar-barrel caught fire. The door was opened. What followed? Not the

men came out, but the fire rushed in at them like a living death, and

the first I thought to fight with was blackened and crumpled on the

floor like a leaf. One fearsome yell, and dumb for ever. The feet ran up

again, but fewer. I heard them hack with their swords a little way up,

at the mill's wooden sides; but they had no time to hew their way out:

the fire and reek were at their heels, and the smoke burst out at every

loophole, and oozed blue in the moonlight through each crevice. I

hobbled back, racked with pain and fury. There were white faces up at my

window. They saw me. They cursed me. I cursed them back and shook my

naked sword: 'Come down the road I came,' I cried. 'But ye must come one

by one, and, as ye come, ye die upon this steel.' Some cursed at that,

but others wailed. For I had them all at deadly vantage. And doubtless

with my smoke-grimed face and fiendish rage I looked a demon. And now

there was a steady roar inside the mill. The flame was going up it as

furnace up its chimney. The mill caught fire. Fire glimmered through it.

Tongues of flame darted through each loophole and shot sparks and fiery

flakes into the night. One of the assassins leaped on to the sail, as I

had done. In his hurry he missed his grasp and fell at my feet, and

bounded from the hard ground like a ball, and never spoke, nor moved

again. And the rest screamed like women, and with their despair came

back to me both ruth for them and hope of life for myself. And the fire

gnawed through the mill in places, and shot forth showers of great flat

sparks like flakes of fiery snow; and the sails caught fire one after

another; and I became a man again and staggered away terror-stricken,

leaning on my sword, from the sight of my revenge, and with great bodily

pain crawled back to the road. And, dear Margaret, the rimy trees were

now all like pyramids of golden filagree, and lace, cobweb fine, in the

red firelight. Oh! most beautiful! And a poor wretch got entangled in

the burning sails, and whirled round screaming, and lost hold at the

wrong time, and hurled like stone from mangonel high into the air; then

a dull thump; it was his carcass striking the earth. The next moment

there was a loud crash. The mill fell in on its destroyer, and a million

great sparks flew up, and the sails fell over the burning wreck, and at

that a million more sparks flew up, and the ground was strewn with

burning wood and men. I prayed God forgive me, and kneeling with my back

to that fiery shambles, I saw lights on the road; a welcome sight. It

was a company coming towards me, and scarce two furlongs off. I hobbled

towards them. Ere I had gone far I heard a swift step behind me. I

turned. One had escaped; how escaped, who can divine? His sword shone in

the moonlight. I feared him, methought the ghost of all those dead sat

on that glittering glaive. I put my other foot to the ground, maugre the

anguish, and fled towards the torches, moaning with pain, and shouting

for aid. But what could I do? He gained on me. Behooved me turn and

fight. Denys had taught me sword play in sport. I wheeled, our swords

clashed. His clothes they smelled all singed. I cut swiftly upward with

supple hand, and his dangled bleeding at the wrist, and his sword fell;

it tinkled on the ground. I raised my sword to hew him should he stoop

for't. He stood and cursed me. He drew his dagger with his left; I

opposed my point and dared him with my eye to close. A great shout arose

behind me from true men's throats. He started. He spat at me in his

rage, then gnashed his teeth and fled blaspheming. I turned and saw

torches close at hand. Lo, they fell to dancing up and down methought,

and the next--moment--all--was--dark. I had--_ah_!"

_Catherine._] "Here, help! water! Stand aloof, you that be men!"

Margaret had fainted away.