_Master Hewet ordereth Things discretely_
Two Days after this, Master _Hewet_ sent me to _Antwerp_. I abode there
six Months, transacting his Affairs. There was much to learn, much to
see. When I returned Home, it was with a strong Heart. Directly I saw
Mistress _Anne_, I felt that I loved her as much as ever; but I also
felt that I could rule myself. She cried, "Oh, _Osborne_, thou art
returned at last! How glad I am!" with her dear, innocent Eyes fixed
brightly on mine; and forthwith began to tell me that one of her Dormice
had died, and to ask me to get her another. I told her I had brought her
a Guinea-pig; she thanked me, but said she did not think she should like
it as much as the Dormouse.
I found that some Change in Household Arrangements had been made in mine
Absence, whereby my old Quarters were pre-occupied; and that Master
_Hewet_ had taken a Lodging for me at the Barbitonsor's over the Way;
where, in Sooth, both Master _Soper_ and the young Women failed not in
Aught that should be for my Comfort, and at very reasonable Charges.
Howbeit, an Alarm of Housebreakers soon recalled me to mine old Post
again, save that I had the Attick in Place of the Loft; every Woman in
the House thinking it safe with me and unsafe without me. And Master
_Hewet_ said I made the old Place look more like itself.
Now, mark me, _Hew_! Thus went I on _for three whole Years_, and ne'er
once lost Hold of my Stay. What Man hath done, Man may do. I was not
like one working on Hope, for I had had none given me. I say not that I
was always borne up to High-water Mark. Questionless, there were daily
Ebbs and Flows; and ever and anon, a mighty, powerful, rushing Wind
would come, and drive back the Current on an Heap, leaving bare the
stony Channel; till after a While, with strong Recoil, it came hurrying
back, ready to sweep all before it. But, _I never let go the Rope_! Many
Waters cannot quench Love, neither can the Floods drown it. Deep might
call hoarsely unto Deep, but not prevail....
Speak as if I felt it? Why, I _do_! I am an oldish Man now, at least you
think me not over young; but there are some good and pure Feelings, Lad,
thou wilt never become dull to, so long as thou keepest thy Heart with
all Diligence. And the best of it is, that whilst those Feelings, so far
as they were pleasant, are pleasant still, the Pains, then so bitter,
that came from keeping down all that was wrong with a strong Hand, are
now Pleasures too!—that are recalled over and over again: when, maybe,
we seem cogitating or dozing. Give me thy Hand, Lad: I see you believe
me.
So did Master _Hewet_ believe me. We were, I fancy, often thinking at
the same Time of the same Matter; but thereof spake we none. I was not
watched; neither did he make a Shew of not watching me: only gave me
daily Proofs of a deepening and enlarging Confidence. I heard him say
one Day to one of his fellow Aldermen, ere the Door was well closed
behind me, "It were a poor Word, Master _Bowyer_, to say I could trust
that young Man with untold Gold."
But those Ebbs and Flows I spake of ... sometimes they arose from mine
own unmanageable Thoughts, I wist not why nor wherefore; sometimes from
the Approach of this or that Suitor ... for, towards the End of the Term
I named, there were full many, I promise you; though, for the most Part,
not dangerous ones: sometimes from Mistress _Anne_ herself, who began to
have _her_ Ebbs and Flows too, both of Spirits and Temper; and who, when
some of her Suitors, more unpleasing unto her than the Rest, did make
Suit to her with Over-boldness, would become pettish and captious, not
only with them but with me and with every one else.
In one of these little Humours, she accused me of being less regardful
of pleasing her than any one in the House: I would do Nothing for her. I
said there was Nothing I would not do. She said that was fine Talking. I
said, Would she prove me? She was leaning over the Balcony at the Time;
and, looking down therefrom, said, Would I bring her that yellow
Fumitory that grew in the Cleft of the Bridge-buttress? I looked at it
and then at her, and said gravely, it could not be done without
imperilling of Life, but that if she bade me, I would try. She said,
turning red as she spake, she _did_ bid me. Then I said I would take my
Reward beforehand, as I might not be fortunate enough to come back. And
kissed her Hand, and the same Instant was over the Parapet. She cries,
"Oh _Edward_, stay!" and gives a Scream that rings through my Ears and
makes People look forth of their Casements. I was hanging by my two
Hands to the Ballusters, seeking some Ledge for my Foot; but, seeing her
white Face, and knowing she had sent me on a sinfully reckless Errand,
I, without more Ado, gave a sudden Spring back into the Balcony. She
meanwhile, in the Buckram-chamber, had hidden her Face in her Hands, and
was weeping bitterly. I was never so near losing Command of myself as
that Time.
'Twould amuse thee—it amuses me,—to pass in Review all her Suitors of
that Season. There was Master _Bolsover_, the Merchant-tailor—young
_Bowes_, the Goldsmith, Son of Sir _Martin_—_Guy Burrell_, the
Clothworker;—pretty near all the great Companies, except the
Fishmongers', had their Representative, I think.—Then, for the Court,
there were _Ralph de Cobham_, a Spendthrift, _Lancelyn Ferrars_, and a
sixth Cousin of the _Percies_. These all came and went, like Players in
a Droll.
Meantime, I came and went, too; ... to _Leeds_, to _Halifax_, to
_Norwich_, to _Stratford_; and again to _Cales_, _Abbeville_, and
_Antwerp_. Master _Hewet_ supplied me with plenty of Money, and kept me
abroad longer than before. I had Time to look at Pictures and Churches,
and to learn to speak the Tongues of the Countries I abode in with some
Fluency. I had Introductions to Merchants of the Staple, among whom were
Men as friendly and enlightened as any I ever knew.
When I learned that Queen _Mary_ had deceased, and that our gracious
Lady _Elizabeth_ was set on the Throne in her Stead, I thought it hard
to be still kept from Home, where Terror and Tears had now given Place
to Joy and Gladness. Howbeit, Master _Hewet_ would still keep me Abroad,
on some Affairs that seemed of less Moment to me than they did to him.
I set my Face towards _England_ at last, with a greater Longing for Home
than I had ever had before. That Home was now changed: Master _Hewet_
had removed into a goodly Mansion in _Philpot Lane_, fit for a Merchant
Prince, and plainly yet nobly furnished. His Household was also
increased by the Addition of several new Servants; but the House on the
Bridge was still his House of Business.
I know not when I had so desired to see his Face, and to breathe the
same Air with Mistress _Anne_. I hastened to _Philpot Lane_, and the
first Sound I heard on entering the House, was of a Lute, rarely
touched. I stood at Pause and listened with Rapture. I thought, Oh, what
heaven-like Sounds! how sweet an Air! how greatly hath she improved!
when, of a sudden, the Prelude, for 'twas no more, was succeeded by a
lovesick Ballad, sung by a _Man's_ mellow Voice! Oh, my Heart seemed to
leap to my Lips, so great was the Revulsion. I staggered as though I
were shrew-struck; and leaning against the Wall, tried to deafen my Ears
to the hateful Sound. How all the sweet Chords seemed jangled! Who was
the Singer? and what was his Footing here?
While I put to myself these bootless Questions, the Door at the
Stair-head opened, Voices spake Farewell, some one came forth, a light
Foot ran down the Stair, and, or ever I was aware, or could move off, a
very young Man, habited in russet Damask and blue embroidered Satin,
handsome and of lordly Bearing, nearly ran over me. Looking forth of the
House-door, he turned about again and said to me abruptly, "Canst tell
me where are my People?"
I made Answer, "I know not your People's Liveries, my Lord," (for I felt
assured he was a Nobleman,) "but I saw a Party of Men in watchet Coats,
with a spotted Dog on their Badges, at the Lane-end."
"All right," quod he, and proffered me a Piece of Money with a
good-natured Air; but I drew back, on which he looked surprised, gave me
a second Look, slightly bent his Head, and went forth.
[Illustration: JJ
"Proferred me a Piece of Money]
I saw he had offered me a Gift, mistaking my Degree; but what I could
not help chiefly noting was, the exceeding smallness of the Coin. I
marvelled so fine a young Gentleman could proffer so mean a Gift. "Ah,"
thought I, "'tis the City Wealth brings these Gallants so far east. A
Bag of Gold would be as welcome to them tied round the Neck of _Damaris_
as of sweet Mistress _Anne_. 'Tis for their own Ends they hawk low, like
a Swift for a Dragonfly."
Then I leaned against the Wall for a Moment, and said within myself, "O
God, I have Everything that is dear to me at Stake. However my Patience
may be tried, yet make me patient, I beseech thee: I know it is the
Thing of all others in which I am most to seek; yet let me, as at this
Time, struggle with myself not in vain, O LORD."
Then I ran nimbly up-stairs, into the pleasant Summer-chamber the young
Lord had just left. Therein found I Mistress _Anne_, hanging in a
thoughtful Posture, over a Posy of rare Flowers on the Table. Starting
when she saw me, she said, "Oh, _Osborne_, is it you?" and blushed.
I stood at Pause, without a Word to proffer. Quod she, "I am glad thou
art safe returned—hast thou seen my Father?" I said, "No, Mistress.
Have you fared quite well since I left?" She saith, "Quite well." Then I
said, "What rare Flowers! shall I bring you some Water for them?" "No,"
quod she carelessly, "they are scarce worth the keeping." "Scarce worth
the keeping!" quod I, "nay, they are not such as are to be bought in a
_London_ Herb-market.... Divers of them, these Coronations for Example,
must have come from far." "They all come from far," quod she, "but what
of that? I like them none the better." And commenced pulling a
Gilly-flower to Pieces. I said, "I am glad I am not that Gilly-flower."
She saith, "Why?" But I made no Answer, for how witted I that I was any
better prized? So I turned to go; and just as I gained the Door, I heard
her softly say, "_Edward!_" Then I stayed. She saith, "You will find my
Father in his Closet;" and so, passed me with the Flowers in her Hand;
and I saw that her Eyes were full of Tears ready to shed. When she was
gone, I went back and took up some of the Gilly-flower Leaves she had
scattered, and kissed them. Just then enters Master _Hewet_ from his
Closet beyond, wherein he might ha' heard every Word had been said; but
there was Nought to be shamed of, if he did.
He saith, "_Ned!_ I am glad to see thee, Lad! How well thou look'st! And
yet, now I observe thee more narrowly, thou look'st amiss. Hath Aught
gone wrong? Nay then, that's well. Methinks, with thine Allowance, thou
mightest go a little braver; which is what few young Men need the egging
on to ... and yet thou gracest whatsoe'er thou hast on."
Then he told me what he called the grand News of the Day—my Lord
_Talbot's_ Suit to Mistress _Anne_. I said, "Oh! Master, don't kill me,"
and hid my Face in my Hands. He saith, "Why, _Ned_, whom am I saving her
for, but _you_? Look up, Boy! He that did save, the same shall have! I
have but one Child, and I mean to make her happy. But mark me, _Ned_, I
wot not whether that is to be done by giving her unto mine adopted Son;
nor, peradventure, art thou any more assured of it. Woo her then, Lad,
with my free Consent, but tell her not just yet, that thou hast it. My
Fancy—a strange one, maybe—is to see what she will in that Case do."
I knelt, and caught his Hand to my Lips.
"Thy Father's own Son," quod he smiling, "he had the darker Beard, thou
hast the better Eye. Thou art a Gentleman's Son, and I am no more. Start
fair with the young Lord; he dines with me to-day, and so shalt thou.
And now, be off with thee."
I passed forth into the Stretes, not heeding in what Direction, for my
Brain was a-fire, and I wanted to quiet it and to think over many
Things—no Place for Solitariness like the Stretes! Then I returned to
my old Quarters on the Bridge, and looked out a Suit I had bought and
wore once at _Antwerp_, but had thought almost too fine for Home, albe
but little garnished ... to wit, of murray-colour, overlaid with a good
silk Lace; and a _Mechlin_ Edge and Tassels to my Bands. Thought I,
peradventure the 'Prentice in his blue Gown had most reason to be proud
of his Favour ... she kissed me then, when she could scarce hold on by
my Hair, 'twas so short; and now it might wind twice round her
Finger.... Then I went across to Master _Soper_, and quod I, "Now,
Master Tonsor, thou must trim me for a Feast; but, mark me, mine Hair
was cut last in _Flanders_, where they trim the Hair little and the
Beard close; so follow the Lead and keep the foreign Fashion, and I'll
give thee Twopence."
"Marry come up," muttered he, "what Airs these Youngsters bring from
over Seas!" And I felt I was in his power, and that one malicious snip
might put me past Redress; howbeit, he stayed himself with less Work,
more Pay, and acquitted himself handsomely. Then I took my _Flemish_
Beaver, and my new Cloke across my Arm, and sallied forth; and chancing
to look back, was avised of _Tryphena_ and _Tryphosa_ leaning forth of
their upper Casement to look after me. Being caught at which, they
disappeared.
As I entered the House, I heard Mistress _Fraunces_ say to _Damaris_,
"Be sure they spoil not the Mortreuse," which avised me we were to have
state. Howbeit, there was a rich plainness in Everything; the
parcel-gilt double Salt-cellar and chased Flagons alone calling
Attention to their Cost. And though Everything set on Table was
far-fetched and of the best, far exceeding the Tables of the best
Merchants in _Antwerp_, we had not too much nor too many of any Thing. I
could not note that Mistress _Anne_ had made any Difference for him—a
few Strings of Pearls were warped into her Hair, and she ware her
mouse-coloured Velvet, which she never thought too fine, with or without
Company; but no Posy. Two Men with _Talbot_ Badges helped Master
_Hewet's_ Men to wait; my Lord sat next Mistress _Anne_, and I
over-against them. As we took our Places, he seemed to remember my Face,
and to be surprised at my sitting down with him; which Master _Hewet_
noting, in a certain haughtiness in his Air, he saith, "Mine adopted
Son, my Lord, and the Son of mine earliest Friend.... We are all plain
People, but the _Osbornes_ as good as any here sitting, saving your
Lordship's Presence." Whereon, my Lord, recovering, pledged me.
Now, Mistress _Fraunces_ was so abashed at entertaining an Earl's Son,
as that she lost all her natural Easiness, and could bethink her of
Nothing to say but to ask him ever and anon, whether he liked what he
ate, which he professed to do once and again, though I believe he scarce
marked the Difference of one Dish from another. For the first Time, I
learned what the fair Speech of Lordlings to Ladies is made of ... it
seemed to me rather a flimsy Stuff, Warp and Woof; over-stretched and
loose-wove. Then Master _Hewet_, to leave him and _Anne_ to themselves,
kept up a By-talk with me about _Flanders_; drawing forth of me not so
much about the Staple as about the Country, Towns, Rivers, Houses,
Churches, and People. I had been to _Nürnberg_, and could tell him of
the mighty Works of Genius produced by the Artists of the free Imperial
City, and of the Wealth and Splendour of its Merchants. Mistress
_Fraunces_ was afterwards pleased to say I took the Colour out of the
young Lord: what she intended thereby I never clearly made
out—peradventure, being a Woman, she meant I was brown and red, and he
pink and white; for indeed I was sore sunburned. For good Looks, there
was no Fault to find in my Lord: he had that Easiness of Carriage and
Manner which I think none but young Lords have. He took not much upon
him, considering what he was and with whom; and, for the Rest, he was
pleasant, but not bright. His Hands were womanish for Softness, and I
heard from _Damaris_, who had it from his Men, that one Reason thereof
was, he never washed them in cold Water, only dabbed them a little with
a soft Napkin. Methought, rather than that, I would choose my Hands of a
little coarser Grain. I think he parleyed for a Quarter of an Hour on
the Christian Names of his Ancestry, how the Heads of his House had been
alternately a _Richard_ and a _Gilbert_, a _Richard_ and a _Gilbert_,
for I wot not how many Generations; and then how the Name of _George_
got in, and then of _Frauncis_, and how he was a _George_ again ...
flimsy Talk and tedious. Mistress _Anne_ sate wondrous quiet, and once
gave me, across the Table, such a Look! Methought if she were secretly
amusing herself, I had no Need to be so jealous unto Death as I felt.
When my Lord took Leave, he, to my Surprise, invited me to attend him a
little Way. I looked at him, to be assured there was no Mistake; and,
seeing he awaited me, I followed; Master _Hewet_ saying as I departed,
"Fail not to look in on us as thou returnest." In the open Air, my Lord
and I walked awhile without speaking, by Reason of the People we met;
but, proceeding to a side Aisle of _Paul's_, he spake to me of this and
that, I following his Lead, and leaving him to start his Subject.
At length, quod he, "Master _Hewet_ lives quietly ... they that save
most, shew least; ha, Master _Osborne_?" I coolly replied, "My Lord, it
may be so."—"A rich Man," pursued he, "like a Prophet, may have least
Honour in his own Street and his own House. Why now, there may be many
cross daily his Threshold and have Speech of him on ordinary Affairs,
that wot not he, for as homely as he is, hath six thousand Pounds by the
Year ... am I within the Mark, Master _Osborne_?" "Marry, my Lord," quod
I, "your honourable Lordship seemeth to know much more of the Secrets of
his strong Box than I do. I never yet asked of him what it held, nor
never was told." "That may be true," quod he, "and yet you may
guess."—"But I never did guess," interrupted I, "I know him for rich,
and liberal, and of high Credit at Home and Abroad; and that is all."
"You would surprise me," quod my Lord, "unless it were clear to me that
you resent my Freedom with you in this Matter." "On my Faith, my Lord,"
quod I, "I resent Nothing. I may know the Amount and Success of this or
that Venture of Master _Hewet's_, without having any Key to the Sum
total of his Wealth; but whatever came to my Knowledge, whether by
Chance, by Confidence, or in the Way of Business, it is certain I should
keep locked in my Heart as faithfully as his Trade Secrets what Time I
was his 'Prentice." "Nay, you are a good and honest Heart," quod my
Lord. "Be as honourable to me as to him, I beseech you, and say Nothing
that shall minish me in his good Liking." "Why should I, my good Lord?"
quod I, "our Paths lie wide enough asunder." "Aye, but you have his
Ear," quod he, "in the Way of daily Business, and he spake of you as his
adopted Son. If you are as a Son unto him, his Daughter is unto you as a
Sister, and you may do a good Turn for me, peradventure, with fair
Mistress _Anne_." "My Lord," quod I, "we are on quite a different
Footing from what you suppose, and your Suit would gain no better Favour
from passing through my Hands." "Will you try that?" quod he, smiling.
"Marry, my Lord, why should you put it upon me?" quod I, "you are far
better able to make Suit for yourself ... Earls' Sons do not commonly
seek in vain for fair Ladies' Favour."... "You will, at least, not be my
Foe?" quod he. "No, my Lord," quod I, "unless you give me greater Reason
to be than you have done yet: howbeit, I marvel your Lordship should
value my good or ill Favour at a Pin's Purchase."
"Ah," quod he, after a Pause, during which we paced half the Length of
the Aisle, "there be some Things that neither Rank nor Money can buy;
and I saw that Mistress _Anne_ had you in her Regard."—"Did you, my
Lord?" cried I, "wherein did she shew it?" But he was thinking of his
own Matters rather than of mine, therefore only said, "I could discern
it and am assured of it; therefore be my good Friend, good _Osborne_,
and speak a good Word for me when you can."
Then taking a Ring off his Finger, he saith, "I beseech you, accept this
Ruby for the Esteem I bear unto you ... a mere Trifle, yet a good Stone,
I assure you—nay, Sir, be not so unkindly—'beseech you, for my Love."
I put it aside, saying, "In a Word, my Lord, I cannot. Faith, it were
well your honourable Lordship would turn into another Aisle, for there
is a Tailor behind yonder Pillar taking down the Particulars of your
Apparel in his Notebook, which 'twere Pity o' my Life, for the excellent
Devising thereof, should be copied and sold in a City Frippery."
He moved off with a Start and a Smile, replacing his Ring. At the same
Time we were accosted by one of those habitual Frequenters of _Paul's
Walk_, that will sue your Charity first, and pick your Pocket
afterwards. My Lord affected first not to hear him, but seeing me feel
for a Trifle to be quit of him, he sought his own Purse, which, not
finding, he turned about in some Anxiety to his Men, who were some Way
behind, and accosted them as soon as they came up, with "Here,
_Cresswell_, _Jenkyn_! I have lost my Purse,—hie back, one of you, to
Master _Hewet's_, where, methinks, I dropped it." "My Lord, I will
return and aid in the Search," quod I, glad of an Excuse for ending so
troublesome a Dialogue; albeit I thought it much more likely he had lost
his Purse in the Place we were in than dropped it at our House.
However, there I was wrong, for _Damaris_ met us on our Return, saying,
"Oh yes, here is my Lord's Purse," and gave it unto his Man. When she
had watched him depart, "'Twas hardly worth returning for," quod she
disdainfully, "there were but three Nobles; and albeit the Purse had a
Hole in't, 'twas not big enow for a Penny-piece to drop through. But
peradventure he was ashamed we should see it, so was anxious to have it
back." "There's no Shame in Poverty, _Damaris_," quod I, "if we are not
proud with it."—"Nay, I know not," quod she, doubtfully; "Folks always
_are_ ashamed of it, that's certain."
In the withdrawing Chamber sate Mistress _Anne_ at her Needle, beside
Master _Hewet_ in his great Chair. "Now then," thought I, "every good
Angel be my speed! I believe I can tell as well as most whether a Man be
only setting himself to sleep, or verily and indeed sleeping; and I see
that at this present, Master _Hewet_ is truly and soundly asleep, but
yet his being at his Daughter's Side gives me Freedom of Access unto her
I should not in other Wise enjoy, and will now neither abuse nor
neglect."
So, without a second Thought, and armed with my Possession of the
Father's private Grace, I sate down over-against her. She said, "So soon
returned?" and began to question me of my Travel. Then my Tongue
unloosed, and I told her how many fair Things I had seen, how many
notable People and Places, yet how none of these had been able to damp
for one Moment my Desire to be at Home, within Sight and Sound of her.
As I went on, waxing more and more fluent, more and more passionate, so
did her Colour wax deeper and deeper, until, with a Look of extreme
Displeasure and Aversion, she said, "_Edward_, thou art beside thyself
... pray let me never more hear such foolish Talk as this—I had better
Thoughts of thee." And arose to go. I arose too, and stayed her, and
prayed her to forgive me if I had spoken Aught amiss,—if she did not, I
could have no Peace. She said, "I cannot just now, I am wounded so
much;" and went away, with flushed Cheeks and Eyes full of Tears. Master
_Hewet_ was roused by her Departure, and, rubbing his Eyes, smiled and
said, "I thought _Anne_ had been here." "She is but just gone," I made
Answer; and the rest of the Evening was sad enough.
Next Day, I had long Speech of Master _Hewet_, touching foreign Affairs.
He told me of this and that Estate in _Yorkshire_ he had been buying, in
the Parishes of _Wales_ and _Hartshill_, and of his minding to send me
down to see them, if I were ready to start off again so soon. I said, "I
am quite ready, Sir." "Shortly thou shalt go, then," quod he. "And now
take up these Letters to _Anne_, for they concern her more than me,
being Thanks from some of her poor Pensioners." Adding, just as I was
leaving, "Thou didst not make much way last Night, _Ned_ ..." and
smiled; which bewrayed to me that he had heard at least Part of what was
said; which I was mad with him for, and thought not fair.
And now I began to muse within myself what a provoking Thing it was,
that when all the Obstacles I had counted insurmountable between _Anne_
and me had suddenly given Way, I should be brought up short by herself!
Certes, an' she cared not for me, there was no more to be said; and
Master _Hewet_ would in no Ways be to blame if he gave her to Somebody
else; neither had I ever sought nor had she ever bestowed any such
Tokens of especial and considerable Regard as should encourage me to
suppose I had only to ask and have. And yet, I had somehow always
thought, "Only give me my fair Chance with the Rest, and I ask for
nothing better." That was my Conceit and Presumption. Therefore with a
very sad and sorry Aspect did I carry up the Letters to Mistress _Anne_,
and used as few Words as need be in the delivering of them. She on her
Part was equally dry, and gave me no Pretence to tarry, and yet I
lingered. Seeing which, and that I was about to speak, (though I
protest, on Somewhat quite as trivial as the Weather,) she suddenly
coloured up very much and said, "_Edward_, if you are going to talk any
more Nonsense, as you did last Night, I would rather go away." "There's
no Need, Madam," said I coolly, "I had not such a Thought in my Head."
On which she coloured still worse, and sitting down again began to read
her Letters.
_Damaris_ now came in, and began to stitch away at a distant Window. "I
have but to say Farewell, Mistress _Anne_," quod I, "before I start on
my next Journey." "So soon again? where are you going?" quod she,
without looking up from her Letters. "A rolling Stone gathers no Moss."
(This was an unkind Cut, considering her own Father set me rolling.) "To
_Yorkshire_," replied I, "and perhaps I had best say Farewell at once,
for Lord _Talbot_ is coming in at the Gate."
"Oh then, _Edward_, stay!" cries she with all her old Frankness:
starting up and dropping her Letters. As we both stooped to pick them
up, I said, "I will, if you wish it; but are you assured you know your
own Mind?" "Quite," said she very determinately, "so leave me not by any
Means."
Then cometh in my Lord, very brave, in blue Silk and Silver. How
laughable it was, if I could but have felt merry! _Damaris_,
questionless, was laughing in her Sleeve. My Lord steps up to Mistress
_Anne_, with easy Assuredness, and touches with his Lips a very pretty
Fabrick of Silk rayed with Silver, for she gave him a gloved Hand. Then
he hoped she had rested better than he had, as in Sooth he saw by her
divine Looks she must needs have done; and he marvelled not that Roses
were at no Price to be had just now at Court, since 'twas plain they
found a more nourishing Soil in the City; and so forth, like a
Valentine, calling her Looks Nature's sweetest Books, her Tresses golden
Meshes, her Voice Musick, her Favour Heaven, with Apostrophes to _Venus_
and _Cupid_, and Asseverations that he was a Prey to a Mind delighting
in Sorrow, Spirits wasted with Passion, a Heart torn in Pieces with
Care. To which she made Answer, that she hoped he overstated his ill
Condition. To which he responded that if he did, 'twas _error amoris_,
not _amor erroris_. With othermuch i' the same Vein, that he cared no
Whit for mine hearing, but rather enjoyed having another Listener while
he ran off Phrases that it seemed to me he must needs have got by Heart.
I thought, As she liketh not my Fashion, maybe she liketh this. Howbeit,
there was Nothing in her Favour to discover whether she did or no. So
after a set Time given to this Court-like Parry and Thrust, this Quip
and Compliment, whereby I wist not how a Man could suppose his Suit
moved one Way or the other, my Lord takes leave with easy Grace, as a
Man who had, in one Affair, transacted the Business of the Day to his
Satisfaction.
So soon as he hath departed, Mistress _Anne_ falls a laughing, when in
cometh Master _Hewet_, looking somewhat harassed; seeing which,
_Damaris_ sweeps up her Work and departs, leaving us all with grave
Faces.
"_Nan_," quoth Master _Hewet_, casting himself into his Arm-chair, "I
must have a few Words with thee of this Suitor of thine."
"We are not alone, _Father_," interrupted Mistress _Anne_, casting a
quick, apprehensive Look towards me.
"Tilly-valley," he responded, "none other is within Earshot of us but
_Ned Osborne_, who is only an _alter ego_."
"He may be thine, _Father_, but he is not mine," quod Mistress _Anne_,
somewhat captiously, "and I pray you to defer what you have to say to me
till we are by ourselves."
"Maiden, thou art over-hasty," quod Master _Hewet_, looking fixedly at
her, "and, in thy Fear of being over-civil unto one who has been unto
thee as a Brother, and to whom, moreover, thou owest thy Life, art
somewhat failing in good Manners."
Her Eye sank before his, and she submissively replied, "Well, then,
_Father_, what is it thou wouldest say?"
"Just this," he returned, "whether Lord or Commoner, the Youth must have
an Answer, so soon as thou knowest thine own Mind."
"I know it already," quod Mistress _Anne_, shortly.
"What is it?" saith her Father. She faltered for a Moment,—"Not to have
him," she replied softly.
"_Ned_, thou hast thine Answer," quod Master _Hewet_.
"_I_, Sir?" quod I, starting.
"Hear'st thou not?" returned he imperturbably, "thou hast it from
herself. I told thee I but sought to make my only Child happy,—you
can't make her so, it seemeth,—she won't have you."
"_Father!_ what _are_ you saying?" cried Mistress _Anne_, trembling
exceedingly.
He looked at her, but made no Answer.
"Were you not," said she, leaning over him breathlessly, her Dress
vibrating with the quick beating of her Heart,—"were you not making
Question of Lord _Talbot_?"
—"Lord _Talbot_? Lord _Marlingspike_!"—quod he, "my Thoughts were as
far from him as from the City Giants! Said I not 'this Suitor of thine'?
Whom should I think of but _Ned Osborne_?"
"You never told me before, that _I_ might," quod she, turning scarlet,
and then bursting into Tears. I sprang towards her, but she brake away
from me, and was gone in a Moment. Master _Hewet_ leaned back in his
Chair and smiled. "Methinks, _Ned_," quod he, "the Day is thine, this
Time." And, taking the Ring off his Finger, that he had shown Lord
_Howard_ of _Effingham_ on the Bridge, "See," quod he, "how long I have
destined her for thee!"
—Here 'tis, _Hew_—I always wear it now. Thou mark'st the Posy:
"_He that did save,
The same shall have_."
—Many a goodly Hereditament had I with her, too ... the _Barking_
Estate, and those _Yorkshire_ Lands inclusive. The _Settings_ of my
Ring, Lad! no more—the Casket that went with my Treasure—the binding
of my Book.
So now thou seest how thou mayest wait a little longer for fair Mistress
_Joyeuse_, without fuming and chafing, lest this Hurt, got in a good
Cause, should lose thee thy Place among thy Rivals. Tut, Lad, 'twill
only grace thee in her Eyes all the more! See how Things came round in
my Case. I had not half thy good Favour, nor the brightness that a Sword
carrieth in a Woman's Eyes. "A plain Man, dwelling in Tents...." Nothing
more!
Well, what remains to tell? We married, we were happy? Thou knowest it,
and yet sayest, "Go on." _Anne_ and I were married early in the
_October_ of that Year; and on the _29th_ of that same Month, Master
_Hewet_ was chosen Lord _Mayor_ of _London_, and knighted at
_Westminster_. What a Pageant we got up for him! I was a young Husband,
full of Spirits, and ready for Anything that came in my Way, Feasting or
Fighting; in special, then, to do Honour to him unto whom, under Heaven,
I owed all earthly Good. So I took Council with the Master-revellers;
and, between us, we concocted as pretty a Subtlety as ever was devised!
Don't laugh, Sirrah! you'd have thought it very fine. There was the
Symbol of our Mystery, a Golden Ram, ridden by a little Child,
cherub-like for Beauty, followed by rustical Shepherds and Shepherdesses
with Pipes and Tabors and flower-wreathed Crooks. Then came the Players
of the Pageant, which was the Story of _Apollo_ keeping the Flocks of
_Admetus_, and helping him to win his fair Wife; all which was to be
enacted at the proper Time on a goodly Stage representing a pastoral
Wilderness, with Trees, Bushes, Shrubs, Brambles, and Thickets,
interspersed with Birds and Beasts. In the Midst, _Apollo_ playing on
his Lyre: on either Side a Satyr, mopping, mowing, and curvetting. This
was, as you may plainly perceive, altogether diverse from and very
superior to the Drapers' tasteless Pageant of _Salisbury Plain_, whereon
were assembled Shepherds, Shepherdesses, Carders, Spinners, Dyers,
Wool-combers, Shermen, Dressers, Fullers, Weavers, without any Order or
Propriety.
[Illustration: J Jellicoe
The Masque]
Ours was of another guess Sort, Sir! I fancy there was some little
Classicality in it; though I say it that should not. After the Hall
Dinner, ('twas noted of all how pretty _Anne_, the young Bride, looked
as Lady Mayoress!) the Players having set up their Stage, _Apollo_ was
discovered lying all along, a playing of his Lyre, with his Crook cast
aside and his Sheep scattered hither and thither: and, quod he,
"_Whoe'er may it gainsay,
I am the God of Day;
And it is also I
Am God of Poetry:
Howbeit, 'tis my Fate,
Thus cast from high Estate,
In these poor Weeds to keep
The good Admetus' Sheep._"
—And so forth, explaining why he had been banished from Heaven by
_Jupiter_. Entereth to him _Admetus_, not wisting who he is, beyond his
hired Servant, whereon they parley on Things in general, especially the
Wool Trade and Clothworking, (with a Hit, here and there, at the
Drapers.) Then the merry Sound of Drumes and Pfiffes causeth them to
step aside behind the Trees, and there entereth a Company of Shepherds
and Shepherdesses singing the Praises of their fair Lady _Alcestis_,
represented by a fair Boy i' the Midst, crowned with Guirlands. Then
_Admetus_ doeth _Apollo_ to wit how that he is enamoured of _Alcestis_,
whose Father will in no wise bestow her save on one that shall yoke a
Boar and Lion together in a Car. Then _Apollo_, who hath a dark Lanthorn
aneath his Cloke wherewith he ever and anon maketh a sudden Flare into
_Admetus'_ Eyes, who wisteth not whence it cometh, nor wotteth 'tis the
sunbright Glory of his celestial Guest, biddeth _Admetus_ not to lose
Heart, for that he will accomplish his Task for him. And thereupon
taking up his Lyre, he beginneth to sing and play after such a
transporting Manner, that the Birds give over singing in the Trees and
hop down on his Shoulders, the Beasts begin to glare at him through the
Thickets, and then to gather about him, subdued unto a kind of surly
Softness,—whereon _Apollo_, giving _Admetus_ a private Nod and
continuing his playing, _Admetus_ without more Ado takes a Yoke wreathed
with Flowers from one of the Shepherds, yoketh therewith a Lion and a
Boar into a Car that is presently brought in, placeth _Alcestis_ in it,
driveth her to the Feet of her Father, (a King,) who arriveth
opportunely and can no longer say why the Marriage should not be
solemnizated; and, their Hands being joined by him, the Shepherds and
Shepherdesses dance about them, _Apollo_ still playing; and one and all
chant a Chorus in Praise of Clothworking.
Ha! that was a notable good Pageant! Far better than mine own, many
Years after, which I need not tell thee, Lad, I did not devise myself.
The Toy was pretty, too, and appropriate—the Story of _Jason_, whom I
believe to have been nothing more nor less than a Merchant-adventurer
that equipped his Ship the _Argonaut_, and by his Traffic and Commerce
carried off the Golden Fleece; that is to say, the Trade of the World.
Scarce were the Pageants over, and Master _Hewet_, that is to say Sir
_William_, set to his daily and hard Work—(for a Lord Mayor, _Hew_,
hath no lazy Time on't! He presides at the Sittings of the Court of
Aldermen, Common Council, and Common Hall, is Judge of the _London_
Sessions at _Guildhall_, Justice of the Peace for _Southwark_, Escheator
in _London_ and _Southwark_, Conservator of the _Thames_, signs notarial
Documents, presides at Public Meetings, founds Charities, is Trustee for
Hospitals, attends the Privy Council on the Accession of Sovereigns,
and—not to weary thee with the hearing of what I've had the
doing,—sits daily in his own Justice Room by the Space of four or five
Hours). Well, but, to begin a new Parenthesis, have we not had some fine
Fellows among us? Look at _Fitz-Alwin_ resisting one Sovereign,
_Walworth_ defending another, _Picard_ feasting four Kings at his Table,
_Philpot_ raising a thousand Men at his private Charges to put down
Pirates, _Bamne_ relieving a great Dearth by importing foreign Corn,
_Falconer_ supplying _Henry_ the _Fifth_ with the Wherewithal for his
_French_ Wars, _Whittington_ founding Divinity Lectures and building
_Newgate_, _Wells_ supplying the City with fresh Water, _Eyre_ building
_Leadenhall_ for a Public Garner, and bestowing five thousand Marks on
the Poor, _Stockton_ knighted on the Field by his King for good Service
in Battle, _Fabian_ compiling Chronicles, _White_ founding a College,
and defending our Bridge; and, not to be farther tedious unto thee, Sir
_William Hewet_, the Benefactor of every Hospital, and of the Poor of
every Parish, besides bequeathing a Dowry to every poor Maid in the
Parish of _Wales_ or _Hartshill_ in _Yorkshire_ that should marry within
a Year of his Decease. These Men, _Hew_, were Worthies in their
Generation! And if Master _Hewet_ had a hard Shrievalty, he had a joyous
Mayoralty, under the early Rays of that fostering Sun, our glorious
Sovereign Lady _Elizabeth_!
There is great Peace in the Land. I say not we are better than we were,
but we are happier and more prosperous. Sometimes I think those Days of
Trial did us good: they tried us even as Silver is tried; the baser
Metal perished. Let us not settle on the Lees, lest a worse Thing come
upon us.
Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
Edinburgh & London
Works by the Author of "Mary Powell"
_In crown 8vo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated by_ JOHN JELLICOE _and_
HERBERT RAILTON, _price 6s. each_.
1. The Household of Sir Thos. More.
2. Cherry & Violet: A Tale of the Great Plague.
3. The Maiden and Married Life of Mary Powell, afterwards Mrs. Milton;
with the Sequel thereto, Deborah's Diary.
4. The Old Chelsea Bun-Shop: A Tale of the Last Century.
5. The Colloquies of Edward Osborne, Citizen and Clothworker of London.
_The many other interesting works of this author will be published from
time to time uniformly with the above._
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
In crown 8vo, with Illustrations by JOHN JELLICOE and HERBERT RAILTON,
price 6s., cloth elegant, gilt top.
_Some Press Notices_
The Household of Sir Thos. More
+Graphic.+—"A picture, not merely of great charm, but of infinite value
in helping the many to understand a famous Englishman and the times in
which he lived."
+Scotsman.+—"This clever work of the historical imagination has gone
through several editions, and is one of the most successful artistic
creations of its kind."
+Sketch.+—"In the front rank of the gift-books of the season is this
beautiful and very cleverly illustrated reprint of a work which has
lasting claims to popularity."
+Magazine of Art.+—"The grace and beauty of the late Miss Manning's
charming work, 'The Household of Sir Thomas More,' has been greatly
enhanced by the new edition now put forth by Mr. John C. Nimmo.... This
remarkable work is not to be read without keen delight."
The Maiden and Married Life of +Mary Powell+ (Afterwards Mistress
Milton) And the Sequel thereto, Deborah's Diary
+Literary World.+—"It is rare in these days of sensational literature,
when the demand for novels of action is supreme, to take up a book which
is so palpitating with real humanity as this, in which the good and evil
are depicted dividing their power over one heart, and not broadly
separated into heroine and villain."
+Athenæum.+—"Many will welcome the pretty new edition of the late Miss
Manning's most popular work."
+Gentlewoman.+—"Too much praise cannot be bestowed upon Mr. John
Jellicoe and Mr. Herbert Railton, whose dainty illustrations have so
well caught the spirit of the book."
Cherry & Violet A Tale of the Great Plague
+Athenæum.+—"The late Miss Manning's delicate and fanciful little
cameos of historical romance possess a flavour of their own.... The
numerous illustrations by Mr. Jellicoe and Mr. Railton are particularly
pretty."
+Sketch.+—"A beautiful book! is the verdict, and one to read and read
again. A similar verdict is to be passed on the drawings with which
Messrs. Herbert Railton and John Jellicoe have enriched this edition."
+Literary World.+—"Nearly thirty illustrations by Mr. John Jellicoe and
Mr. Herbert Railton enrich the volume, and materially help to make it a
dainty and acceptable book for presentation purposes."
+Magazine of Art.+—"With such a work of fiction before her as Defoe's
'Journal of the Plague,' Miss Manning showed not only extraordinary
courage, but even a touch of genius, in approaching a similar theme, and
dealing with it charmingly and successfully. It is her own grace and
charm which have rendered this book worth preserving, fit to place with
others of our foremost women writers."
The Old Chelsea Bun-Shop A Tale of the Last Century
+Athenæum.+—"A handsome reprint of Miss Manning's pleasant tale. The
illustrations add to the attractions of the volume."
+Bookman.+—"The illustrations are capital."
+Notes and Queries.+—"The work constitutes a delightful gift-book."
+Artist.+—"We cannot thank Mr. Nimmo sufficiently for bringing out so
charming an edition. If there is any one who does not know 'The Old
Chelsea Bun-Shop,' he must get it and read it now."
+Art Journal.+—"Mr. Railton's and Mr. Jellicoe's illustrations are as
refined as ever."
LONDON: JOHN C. NIMMO, 14 KING WILLIAM ST., STRAND
End of Project Gutenberg's The Colloquies of Edward Osborne, by Anne Manning