Bring the bowl which you boast,
Fill it up to the brim;
’Tis to him we love most,
And to all who love him.
Brave gallants, stand up.
And avauant, ye base carles!
Were there death in the cup,
Here’s a health to King Charles!
Though he wanders through dangers,
Unaided, unknown,
Dependent ’on strangers,
Estranged from his own;
Though ’tis under our breath,
Amidst forfeits and perils,
Here’s to honour and faith,
And a health to King Charles!
Let such honours abound
As the time can afford.
The knee on the ground,
And the hand on the sword;
But the time shall come round.
When, ’mid Lords, Dukes, and Earls,
The loud trumpets shall sound
Here’s a health to King Charles!
After this display of loyalty, and a final libation, the party took
leave of each other for the night. Sir Henry offered his old
acquaintance Wildrake a bed for the evening, who weighed the matter
somewhat in this fashion: “Why, to speak truth, my patron will expect
me at the borough—but then he is used to my staying out of doors
a-nights. Then there’s the Devil, that they say haunts Woodstock; but
with the blessing of this reverend Doctor, I defy him and all his
works—I saw him not when I slept here twice before, and I am sure if he
was absent then, he has not come back with Sir Henry Lee and his
family. So I accept your courtesy, Sir Henry, and I thank you, as a
cavalier of Lunsford should thank one of the fighting clerks of Oxon.
God bless the King! I care not who hears it, and confusion to Noll and
his red nose!” Off he went accordingly with a bottle-swagger, guided by
Joceline, to whom Albert, in the meantime, had whispered, to be sure to
quarter him far enough from the rest of the family.
Young Lee then saluted his sister, and, with the formality of those
times, asked and received his father’s blessing with an affectionate
embrace. His page seemed desirous to imitate one part of his example,
but was repelled by Alice, who only replied to his offered salute with
a curtsy. He next bowed his head in an awkward fashion to her father,
who wished him a good night. “I am glad to see, young man,” he said,
“that you have at least learned the reverence due to age. It should
always be paid, sir; because in doing so you render that honour to
others which you will expect yourself to receive when you approach the
close of your life. More will I speak with you at leisure, on your
duties as a page, which office in former days used to be the very
school of chivalry; whereas of late, by the disorderly times, it has
become little better than a school of wild and disordered license;
which made rare Ben Jonson exclaim”—
“Nay, father,” said Albert, interposing, “you must consider this day’s
fatigue, and the poor lad is almost asleep on his legs—to-morrow he
will listen with more profit to your kind admonitions.—And you, Louis,
remember at least one part of your duty—take the candles and light
us—here Joceline comes to show us the way. Once more, good night, good
Dr. Rochecliffe—good night, all.”