This is rare news thou tell'st me, my good fellow;
There are two bulls fierce battling on the green
For one fair heifer--if the one goes down,
The dale will be more peaceful, and the herd,
Which have small interest in their brulziement,
May pasture there in peace. --OLD PLAY.
Sayes Court was watched like a beleaguered fort; and so high rose the
suspicions of the time, that Tressilian and his attendants were stopped
and questioned repeatedly by sentinels, both on foot and horseback,
as they approached the abode of the sick Earl. In truth, the high rank
which Sussex held in Queen Elizabeth's favour, and his known and avowed
rivalry of the Earl of Leicester, caused the utmost importance to be
attached to his welfare; for, at the period we treat of, all men doubted
whether he or the Earl of Leicester might ultimately have the higher
rank in her regard.
Elizabeth, like many of her sex, was fond of governing by factions, so
as to balance two opposing interests, and reserve in her own hand the
power of making either predominate, as the interest of the state, or
perhaps as her own female caprice (for to that foible even she was not
superior), might finally determine. To finesse--to hold the cards--to
oppose one interest to another--to bridle him who thought himself
highest in her esteem, by the fears he must entertain of another equally
trusted, if not equally beloved, were arts which she used throughout
her reign, and which enabled her, though frequently giving way to the
weakness of favouritism, to prevent most of its evil effects on her
kingdom and government.
The two nobles who at present stood as rivals in her favour possessed
very different pretensions to share it; yet it might be in general said
that the Earl of Sussex had been most serviceable to the Queen, while
Leicester was most dear to the woman. Sussex was, according to the
phrase of the times, a martialist--had done good service in Ireland and
in Scotland, and especially in the great northern rebellion, in 1569,
which was quelled, in a great measure, by his military talents. He was,
therefore, naturally surrounded and looked up to by those who wished to
make arms their road to distinction. The Earl of Sussex, moreover, was
of more ancient and honourable descent than his rival, uniting in
his person the representation of the Fitz-Walters, as well as of
the Ratcliffes; while the scutcheon of Leicester was stained by the
degradation of his grandfather, the oppressive minister of Henry VII.,
and scarce improved by that of his father, the unhappy Dudley, Duke of
Northumberland, executed on Tower Hill, August 22, 1553. But in person,
features, and address, weapons so formidable in the court of a
female sovereign, Leicester had advantages more than sufficient to
counterbalance the military services, high blood, and frank bearing of
the Earl of Sussex; and he bore, in the eye of the court and kingdom,
the higher share in Elizabeth's favour, though (for such was her uniform
policy) by no means so decidedly expressed as to warrant him against the
final preponderance of his rival's pretensions. The illness of Sussex
therefore happened so opportunely for Leicester, as to give rise to
strange surmises among the public; while the followers of the one Earl
were filled with the deepest apprehensions, and those of the other with
the highest hopes of its probable issue. Meanwhile--for in that old time
men never forgot the probability that the matter might be determined
by length of sword--the retainers of each noble flocked around their
patron, appeared well armed in the vicinity of the court itself, and
disturbed the ear of the sovereign by their frequent and alarming
debates, held even within the precincts of her palace. This preliminary
statement is necessary, to render what follows intelligible to the
reader. [See Note 3. Leicester and Sussex.]
On Tressilian's arrival at Sayes Court, he found the place filled with
the retainers of the Earl of Sussex, and of the gentlemen who came to
attend their patron in his illness. Arms were in every hand, and a deep
gloom on every countenance, as if they had apprehended an immediate
and violent assault from the opposite faction. In the hall, however,
to which Tressilian was ushered by one of the Earl's attendants,
while another went to inform Sussex of his arrival, he found only two
gentlemen in waiting. There was a remarkable contrast in their dress,
appearance, and manners. The attire of the elder gentleman, a person
as it seemed of quality and in the prime of life, was very plain and
soldierlike, his stature low, his limbs stout, his bearing ungraceful,
and his features of that kind which express sound common sense, without
a grain of vivacity or imagination. The younger, who seemed about
twenty, or upwards, was clad in the gayest habit used by persons of
quality at the period, wearing a crimson velvet cloak richly ornamented
with lace and embroidery, with a bonnet of the same, encircled with a
gold chain turned three times round it, and secured by a medal. His hair
was adjusted very nearly like that of some fine gentlemen of our own
time--that is, it was combed upwards, and made to stand as it were on
end; and in his ears he wore a pair of silver earrings, having each a
pearl of considerable size. The countenance of this youth, besides being
regularly handsome and accompanied by a fine person, was animated and
striking in a degree that seemed to speak at once the firmness of
a decided and the fire of an enterprising character, the power of
reflection, and the promptitude of determination.
Both these gentlemen reclined nearly in the same posture on benches
near each other; but each seeming engaged in his own meditations, looked
straight upon the wall which was opposite to them, without speaking to
his companion. The looks of the elder were of that sort which convinced
the beholder that, in looking on the wall, he saw no more than the side
of an old hall hung around with cloaks, antlers, bucklers, old pieces
of armour, partisans, and the similar articles which were usually the
furniture of such a place. The look of the younger gallant had in it
something imaginative; he was sunk in reverie, and it seemed as if the
empty space of air betwixt him and the wall were the stage of a theatre
on which his fancy was mustering his own DRAMATIS PERSONAE, and treating
him with sights far different from those which his awakened and earthly
vision could have offered.
At the entrance of Tressilian both started from their musing, and
made him welcome--the younger, in particular, with great appearance of
animation and cordiality.
“Thou art welcome, Tressilian,” said the youth. “Thy philosophy stole
thee from us when this household had objects of ambition to offer; it
is an honest philosophy, since it returns thee to us when there are only
dangers to be shared.”
“Is my lord, then, so greatly indisposed?” said Tressilian.
“We fear the very worst,” answered the elder gentleman, “and by the
worst practice.”
“Fie,” replied Tressilian, “my Lord of Leicester is honourable.”
“What doth he with such attendants, then, as he hath about him?” said
the younger gallant. “The man who raises the devil may be honest, but he
is answerable for the mischief which the fiend does, for all that.”
“And is this all of you, my mates,” inquired Tressilian, “that are about
my lord in his utmost straits?”
“No, no,” replied the elder gentleman, “there are Tracy, Markham, and
several more; but we keep watch here by two at once, and some are weary
and are sleeping in the gallery above.”
“And some,” said the young man, “are gone down to the Dock yonder at
Deptford, to look out such a hull; as they may purchase by clubbing
their broken fortunes; and as soon as all is over, we will lay our noble
lord in a noble green grave, have a blow at those who have hurried him
thither, if opportunity suits, and then sail for the Indies with heavy
hearts and light purses.”
“It may be,” said Tressilian, “that I will embrace the same purpose, so
soon as I have settled some business at court.”
“Thou business at court!” they both exclaimed at once, “and thou make
the Indian voyage!”
“Why, Tressilian,” said the younger man, “art thou not wedded, and
beyond these flaws of fortune, that drive folks out to sea when their
bark bears fairest for the haven?--What has become of the lovely
Indamira that was to match my Amoret for truth and beauty?”
“Speak not of her!” said Tressilian, averting his face.
“Ay, stands it so with you?” said the youth, taking his hand very
affectionately; “then, fear not I will again touch the green wound.
But it is strange as well as sad news. Are none of our fair and merry
fellowship to escape shipwreck of fortune and happiness in this sudden
tempest? I had hoped thou wert in harbour, at least, my dear Edmund. But
truly says another dear friend of thy name,
'What man that sees the ever whirling wheel
Of Chance, the which all mortal things doth sway,
But that thereby doth find and plainly feel,
How Mutability in them doth play
Her cruel sports to many men's decay.'”
The elder gentleman had risen from his bench, and was pacing the
hall with some impatience, while the youth, with much earnestness
and feeling, recited these lines. When he had done, the other wrapped
himself in his cloak, and again stretched himself down, saying, “I
marvel, Tressilian, you will feed the lad in this silly humour. If there
were ought to draw a judgment upon a virtuous and honourable household
like my lord's, renounce me if I think not it were this piping,
whining, childish trick of poetry, that came among us with Master Walter
Wittypate here and his comrades, twisting into all manner of uncouth and
incomprehensible forms of speech, the honest plain English phrase which
God gave us to express our meaning withal.”
“Blount believes,” said his comrade, laughing, “the devil woo'd Eve
in rhyme, and that the mystic meaning of the Tree of Knowledge refers
solely to the art of clashing rhymes and meting out hexameters.” [See
Note 4. Sir Walter Raleigh.]
At this moment the Earl's chamberlain entered, and informed Tressilian
that his lord required to speak with him.
He found Lord Sussex dressed, but unbraced, and lying on his couch, and
was shocked at the alteration disease had made in his person. The Earl
received him with the most friendly cordiality, and inquired into the
state of his courtship. Tressilian evaded his inquiries for a moment,
and turning his discourse on the Earl's own health, he discovered, to
his surprise, that the symptoms of his disorder corresponded minutely
with those which Wayland had predicated concerning it. He hesitated not,
therefore, to communicate to Sussex the whole history of his attendant,
and the pretensions he set up to cure the disorder under which he
laboured. The Earl listened with incredulous attention until the name
of Demetrius was mentioned, and then suddenly called to his secretary to
bring him a certain casket which contained papers of importance. “Take
out from thence,” he said, “the declaration of the rascal cook whom we
had under examination, and look heedfully if the name of Demetrius be
not there mentioned.”
The secretary turned to the passage at once, and read, “And said
declarant, being examined, saith, That he remembers having made the
sauce to the said sturgeon-fish, after eating of which the said noble
Lord was taken ill; and he put the usual ingredients and condiments
therein, namely--”
“Pass over his trash,” said the Earl, “and see whether he had not been
supplied with his materials by a herbalist called Demetrius.”
“It is even so,” answered the secretary. “And he adds, he has not since
seen the said Demetrius.”
“This accords with thy fellow's story, Tressilian,” said the Earl; “call
him hither.”
On being summoned to the Earl's presence, Wayland Smith told his former
tale with firmness and consistency.
“It may be,” said the Earl, “thou art sent by those who have begun this
work, to end it for them; but bethink, if I miscarry under thy medicine,
it may go hard with thee.”
“That were severe measure,” said Wayland, “since the issue of medicine,
and the end of life, are in God's disposal. But I will stand the risk. I
have not lived so long under ground to be afraid of a grave.”
“Nay, if thou be'st so confident,” said the Earl of Sussex, “I will take
the risk too, for the learned can do nothing for me. Tell me how this
medicine is to be taken.”
“That will I do presently,” said Wayland; “but allow me to condition
that, since I incur all the risk of this treatment, no other physician
shall be permitted to interfere with it.”
“That is but fair,” replied the Earl; “and now prepare your drug.”
While Wayland obeyed the Earl's commands, his servants, by the artist's
direction, undressed their master, and placed him in bed.
“I warn you,” he said, “that the first operation of this medicine will
be to produce a heavy sleep, during which time the chamber must be kept
undisturbed, as the consequences may otherwise he fatal. I myself will
watch by the Earl with any of the gentlemen of his chamber.”
“Let all leave the room, save Stanley and this good fellow,” said the
Earl.
“And saving me also,” said Tressilian. “I too am deeply interested in
the effects of this potion.”
“Be it so, good friend,” said the Earl. “And now for our experiment; but
first call my secretary and chamberlain.”
“Bear witness,” he continued, when these officers arrived--“bear witness
for me, gentlemen, that our honourable friend Tressilian is in no way
responsible for the effects which this medicine may produce upon me, the
taking it being my own free action and choice, in regard I believe it to
be a remedy which God has furnished me by unexpected means to recover me
of my present malady. Commend me to my noble and princely Mistress;
and say that I live and die her true servant, and wish to all about her
throne the same singleness of heart and will to serve her, with more
ability to do so than hath been assigned to poor Thomas Ratcliffe.”
He then folded his hands, and seemed for a second or two absorbed
in mental devotion, then took the potion in his hand, and, pausing,
regarded Wayland with a look that seemed designed to penetrate his very
soul, but which caused no anxiety or hesitation in the countenance or
manner of the artist.
“Here is nothing to be feared,” said Sussex to Tressilian, and swallowed
the medicine without further hesitation.
“I am now to pray your lordship,” said Wayland, “to dispose yourself
to rest as commodiously as you can; and of you, gentlemen, to remain as
still and mute as if you waited at your mother's deathbed.”
The chamberlain and secretary then withdrew, giving orders that all
doors should be bolted, and all noise in the house strictly prohibited.
Several gentlemen were voluntary watchers in the hall, but none remained
in the chamber of the sick Earl, save his groom of the chamber, the
artist, and Tressilian.--Wayland Smith's predictions were speedily
accomplished, and a sleep fell upon the Earl, so deep and sound that
they who watched his bedside began to fear that, in his weakened state,
he might pass away without awakening from his lethargy. Wayland Smith
himself appeared anxious, and felt the temples of the Earl slightly,
from time to time, attending particularly to the state of his
respiration, which was full and deep, but at the same time easy and
uninterrupted.