We must now hurry the reader from the gay capital to a small hunting
seat at Royston, in which the King took peculiar delight, on account
of the woods and wild forest scenery in which that part of the country
abounded at the time we speak of, and which afforded him the
opportunity of enjoying at liberty his favourite pastime of the chase.
According as caprice dictated, the monarch would go either in private,
accompanied by his favourite, and a few of those whom he condescended
to look upon as his friends, or with the whole Court, which was then
packed into very narrow compass, many of the domestics and attendants
being lodged out in the cottages round about, and the whole country
swept by the King's purveyors to provide for the royal household, much
to the annoyance of the poor inhabitants, who saw their fowls, their
butter, their eggs, and their milk, carried away against their will.
Nor was this the only inconvenience they suffered. Had they received
full and ready payment for the food, which was taken, as it were, from
their very mouths, they might have contented themselves. But such was
not the case, and it was not till after long delays, and the deduction
of an enormous per centage to the greedy officers of the King, that
they obtained a scanty and illiberal compensation for the actual loss
they sustained.
On the present occasion, the whole Court were at Royston; and so many
human beings were crowded into the palace, that it was only when the
hounds were abroad, and the greater part of the courtiers following
the King to the chase, that anything like quiet and tranquillity was
to be found in the building.
Such, however, was the case one morning; when Arabella Stuart, who had
accompanied the Queen to Royston, after wandering out for a short
time, returned towards the house with a paper in her hand, followed a
step behind by an honest Hertfordshire farmer, to whom she spoke from
time to time.
On the terrace before the palace, she turned to the man, saying,
"Well, my good friend, I cannot undertake to give it to the King
himself, because he is easily offended at such matters; but I will
place it in the hands of those who can venture more boldly than I can,
and who, I doubt not, will see right done to you."
The man bowed and withdrew; and Arabella, entering the vestibule,
inquired of one of the servants, who sat there enjoying the usual
listlessness of a palace, if Lord Rochester had gone with the King.
The man replied in the affirmative; and she then asked, "Is Sir Thomas
Overbury in the house?"
"Yes, lady," replied the man; "I saw him a minute ago, writing letters
in the cabinet on the left hand, at the top of the stairs."
Arabella immediately proceeded thither, and, opening the door, went
into the cabinet, where she found a young man, of a handsome person
and agreeable expression of countenance, with a high forehead, dark
eyes, and a look of intense thought, not unmingled with melancholy, in
his face--that calm and thoughtful gloom which is generally found in
men of great ambition. He was writing with a rapid hand and eager eye,
and did not look round when the door first opened. The moment after,
however, the lady's step caught his ear; and, raising his face, he
instantly started up when he saw her.
"Good morning, Sir Thomas Overbury," said Arabella, advancing to the
table: "I have a favour to ask of you."
"To do so is to confer one, madam," replied the knight, advancing and
placing a chair: "pray be seated, and let me know your will. It has
but to be known to be obeyed by me."
"You are very kind, Sir Thomas," answered Arabella, taking his words
as a mere matter of compliment; "but I know you are always willing to
do the best in your power for those who suffer by any of the abuses
which occasionally follow every Court. This paper is a petition from a
poor farmer in the neighbourhood against some of the King's purveyors,
who have unnecessarily, it seems, swept off the whole stock of his
farm; and, because he remonstrated, have cut down the trees before his
dwelling.[5] Neither have they, as yet, paid him for anything, nor
even allowed his account."
----------
[Footnote 5: Such acts were not at all uncommon in the reign of James
I.]
----------
"Alas, madam!" replied Overbury, with a sorrowful expression of
countenance, "this is but one out of some twenty or thirty. What do
you wish me to do with it?"
"Merely to ask Lord Rochester," replied Arabella, "to deliver it into
the King's own hand, and, if possible, to obtain justice for the poor
man."
Sir Thomas Overbury took the paper, and looked at the amount claimed.
"I believe, madam," he answered, "that my Lord of Rochester would
rather pay the money out of his own purse, than present this to his
Majesty. The former I will undertake he shall do, at your request."
"Nay," replied the lady, "that is not what I could desire. It is the
King's own debt, not Lord Rochester's. Neither could I, as you may
easily understand, make any such a request to his Lordship."
Sir Thomas Overbury smiled: "You might make any request, madam, that
you pleased, and be quite assured," he said, "that your request would
immediately become his wish."
Arabella was somewhat surprised at the very courteous terms of Sir
Thomas Overbury; for, although he had always treated her with due
respect and attention, there was no intimacy subsisting between them,
and even less between herself and Lord Rochester.
"You are very kind," she answered; "but all I can desire is, that his
Lordship would present the petition to the King, who I feel very sure
will grant it at his request."
"Ah, madam!" replied the Knight, "you know not how difficult it is to
get petitions acceded to; but I hope, if my Lord Rochester succeeds in
this, he may be equally successful, should he some day be a petitioner
to your Ladyship."
Accustomed to flattering speeches, to praises of her beauty, and to
hints of deeper attachment, which her high rank prevented those who
felt it from declaring more openly, Arabella might have thought little
of the pointed expressions of Sir Thomas Overbury, had there not been
a seriousness in his tone and manner that alarmed her.
She rose then immediately, and again thanking him for his civility was
about to retire; but he stopped her, saying, "One moment, lady: I have
long wished for an opportunity of speaking a few words to you." He
then paused and hesitated, while Arabella remained silent, gazing upon
him with an anxious and inquiring look.
"Perhaps, madam," said the knight, at length, "you may think me very
officious and impertinent, but if I be so, it is from my sincere
regard to two high persons, whose fortunes much depend upon each
other."
"I really do not know, sir, what you mean," replied Arabella.
"I will explain myself," continued Sir Thomas Overbury. "My Lord of
Rochester, my kind master and very good friend, is noble, as you know,
by birth, but has risen from a very poor estate to the highest power
and authority in this realm, under the King. You are aware with what
favours his Majesty has loaded him, what wealth he has bestowed upon
him, and what confidence he places in him."
"I doubt not," replied Arabella, "that he is worthy of it all; and,
indeed, I know him to be liberal and kind to the poor, more modest
than most favourites would be in his household and demeanour, and,
moreover, devoted to the King, of which we have a striking instance,
as I hear, the other day, in giving five-and-twenty thousand pounds in
gold to the officers of the revenue, when he found the King's treasury
was empty. If you suppose, Sir Thomas, that I am one of those who envy
him his good fortune, or deny him good qualities, from jealousy of the
King's favour, you are quite mistaken."
"Madam, I know your noble heart too well," said Overbury, "to suspect
it of harbouring such pitiful feelings; and, dealing with you simply
in frankness and candour, I was about to lay before you the evils as
well as the advantages of my Lord Rochester's position, trusting to
your honour never to reveal that which I shall say."
"Of that you may be quite assured," replied Arabella.
"Well then, madam," continued the knight, "you see Lord Rochester, as
he now stands at the height of power and favour, courted and flattered
by all men, each day advancing in wealth and distinction, and having
every vacant office in the state at his disposal. Young, too, he is,
and certainly most strikingly handsome, with health unimpaired by the
various vices of the day--by drunkenness, or dissolute living; so
that, in all probability, his life will be long preserved. But, at the
same time, it must not be concealed that all this fabric of greatness
stands at present on a frail foundation. I do not mean the favour of
the King, for that, I believe, unless from some great fault on his
Lordship's part, will only be terminated with the King's life. But,
lady, I am now going to say what I would venture to no other ears than
yours: the King's life itself is uncertain--his physicians do not
augur that it will be a long one. The violent exercises of the chase,
to which he addicts himself so passionately, daily wear down the
powers of a constitution naturally feeble. A thousand accidents, too,
might happen to deprive us of our sovereign; and, were he gone, the
apparent enmity of the Prince would easily find means to effect my
Lord's ruin, unless his friends can contrive to fix his fortunes upon
a stronger foundation than at present. Now, lady, will you forgive me
if, leaving the picture of this nobleman's fate, I turn to paint that
of another--your own?"
"I fear," said Arabella, who felt her heart beating with apprehension
of what was to come next, "I fear the Queen may require me, I have
been absent long."
"I will not detain you many minutes," replied Sir Thomas Overbury;
"but indeed you must hear me out: it is but justice to me after what I
have said. You yourself, madam, as I know you feel, are placed in a
very peculiar and painful position."
Arabella seated herself, and leaned her head upon her hand.--"Of the
highest rank that subject can attain to," continued the knight, "the
next heir to the Crown, failing the King and his royal children, with
less wealth than your merits well deserve, and denied all power and
influence, the object of vain conspiracies to every idle traitor, and
of jealous apprehension to your royal cousin, you are denied the only
consolation that could be afforded to such a fate, by being shut out
from domestic happiness on motives of state policy."
"True!" said Arabella, with a sigh.
"You must have remarked, madam," continued Sir Thomas Overbury, "that
all the many applications for your hand by sovereign princes, who
could well pretend thereunto, have been rejected without consulting
you; and so it will ever be. You will be condemned to pass through
life without being permitted to bestow on any one in this country, or
elsewhere, the greatest blessing to which man can perhaps aspire on
earth--the possession of so charming and excellent a creature as
yourself."
Arabella had been somewhat moved by the first part of his discourse;
and she knew that there was but one way to cover her emotion, and to
avoid being forced to deal seriously with a matter, which she saw
might involve her in terrible difficulties if she treated it gravely.
She resolved, therefore, to assume that gay and playful lightness of
manner which had often been her resource under such circumstances; and
though, for a moment, it cost her a great effort, she replied,
laughingly, "You must not take it for granted, Sir Thomas, that I had
an inclination to accept any of these mighty potentates, even if the
King had wished it. The grapes, to be sure, are sour with me, as with
the fox in the fable; and I will own that it is always much more
agreeable to a woman to have her vanity flattered by the opportunity
of saying 'No' to such tender supplications, than to have them
dismissed without her interference. But, nevertheless, I can assure
you, upon my honour, that if I had been left to act according to my
own will and choice, not one of all these gentlemen who have asked the
King for my poor hand should have obtained it. You cannot say, Sir
Thomas, that you have ever seen on my part the least desire that their
suit should be approved--or the least disappointment at their
rejection."
"Certainly not, madam," answered the knight; "and I can easily
conceive that a heart like yours, knowing that domestic happiness is
rarely, if ever, obtained in a royal station, would gladly avoid such
a state. But still, lady, you must be convinced that, if the King
refuses you to foreign princes, he will be still more resolute in
denying you to almost any of his own subjects."
"To _any_, I should think," replied Arabella.
"To any but one," replied Sir Thomas Overbury, "to whom, in his
present mood, he can refuse nothing. Now, lady, listen to all in one
word. Your union with Lord Rochester would to him secure, first,
the inestimable blessing of a wife, whom he could both love and
respect--who could both make his home bright and happy, and, by her
experience of courts, guide, counsel, and support him; and, secondly,
would obtain for him such an alliance with those from whom he has most
to fear, as would ensure him against reverse in case of the decease of
the King. You would gain an affectionate, warm-hearted, and sincere
husband, who would be dependent upon yourself for the stability of his
position; and, instead of being condemned to see life pass by without
any of those ties which form a woman's happiness, would at once----"
"Stay, stay, Sir Thomas," cried Arabella, with a gay smile, "do not
make the picture too enchanting. Consider, my dear sir, you are wooing
for another, who has given no sign of love or hope.--Good faith! I
shall expect, if ever I am to be a wife, to be courted, and flattered,
and sought, just as much as other women, or perhaps more. Besides, the
king's consent is not gained.--That would be the first step before
asking mine, who, poor creature, have little power over my own
destiny. Not that the King would not give me every liberty to refuse,
I am sure. It is of my accepting only that he is afraid; and, depend
upon it, as this hand is the only boon on earth I have to give, I will
make the man who obtains it know its full value. Oh, I am a true
woman! You do not know me yet, Sir Thomas. I will have all my
caprices, too, according to rule and precedent; and I will make my
stipulations, like the heiress of an alderman. There must be my dower,
and my annual stipend, and my two coaches lined with velvet, and my
gentlewomen, and my gentlemen ushers, and my horses, and grooms, and
squires of the hand, and my ordinary maids and footmen, and my gowns
of apparel, and my common gowns; and then there must be carpets, and
hangings, and couches, and glass, and my sideboard of plate, and my
canopy; and, moreover, I must be a duke's wife, so that nobody may go
before me at the court.--Oh! you cannot imagine all the things that I
will require," she added, with a laugh; "but, some day, you shall have
an inventory of them: and now, good faith! I must fly to the Queen,
for indeed, Sir Thomas, if it were known that I had been talking with
you so long, and all about love and matrimony, we should both run a
great risk of finding our way to the Tower, Adieu, adieu, with many
thanks!" and thus saying, with a light step and gay air, she quitted
the room.
The moment she was in the corridor, however, her face resumed its
gravity, and she murmured, "Gracious heaven! when will men cease to
make me the object of their ambitious schemes?"
In the meanwhile, Sir Thomas Overbury stood by the side of the table,
and gazed down upon it with vacant eyes, "Yes," he said at length,
"yes, her consent is sure, and this lightness but assumed to cover
deeper things. That is clear enough. The rest must be done by
Rochester; for doubtless, as she says, she will require courting.--The
King, too, must be managed; but that can be done; and then, with his
fortunes fixed upon a basis that nothing can shake, allied to Royalty
itself, and with his doting monarch's whole life before him, he may
indeed do what he will. And I!--Why, is he not my creature, as the
King is his? When, too, he owes the rock on which his fortune is
planted to my counsels, he must surely show his gratitude.--He is
young, warmhearted--yet unhardened by a Court; and, even granted that,
in a few years, he be corrupted by the invariable selfishness and
baseness of such scenes as these, ere then the eagle shall have soared
on high, unless fate clip his wings. Give me three years--but three
years; and if with the powers of mind I feel within this brain, and
the resolution I know within this heart, I rule not in the council
chamber and the senate--why, let them kick me forth as a scurvy cur,
unfitted for high places."
Thus thinking, he sat himself down to write again, and did not rise
till the sound of the horns warned him that the King and Court were
returning.