"I am sorry one so learned and so wise,
As you, Lord Angelo, have still appeared,
Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood
And lack of tempered judgment afterward."
MEASURE FOR MEASURE.
Early in the afternoon of the same day, a man whom we recognize as the
servant we saw at the Governor's house, entered a building which stood
not far from the margin of the bay. It belonged to the Assistant
Spikeman, and it was he whom the man sought. The Assistant was found
sitting before his ledger, whose pages were open, and surrounded by
the articles of his traffic, for he was a merchant, largely engaged in
the purchase and sale of the products of the country, from which he
had drawn substantial gains. Quintals of dried fish were piled up in
one part of the store-room, in another, bundles of furs procured from
the Indians, in a third, casks and barrels containing spirituous
liquors, and elsewhere were stored cloths of various descriptions, and
hardware, and staves and hoops, and, in short, almost everything
necessary to prosecute a trade between the old country and the new.
The Assistant raised his head at the noise made by the entrance of the
man, and passing his fingers through the short, thick red hair that
garnished his head, demanded, "What new thing bringest thou, Ephraim?"
"There has been," answered the man, "him whom they call the Knight of
the Golden Melice, though I know not what it means, with the Governor
this morning, and according to your wishes, I have come to acquaint
you therewith."
"Thou hast well done, and thy zeal in the service of the Commonwealth
and of the congregation merits and shall have reward. What passages
passed between them?"
"I heard only part of the conversation, but enough to make me believe
that the Governor, at the prayer of the strange knight, means to
release the soldier Philip Joy."
"Verily!" exclaimed Spikeman. "Art sure you heard aright? Rehearse to
me what was said."
The spy employed by the Assistant to be a watch upon the conduct of
Winthrop, here went into a detail of his discoveries, to all which the
other listened with fixed attention.
When the man had concluded his narration, which was interlarded with
protestations of pious zeal, the Assistant said:
"I do commend thee greatly, Ephraim, for thy sagacity, and the
promptitude wherewith thou hast made me acquainted with these matters.
Not that thou or I have any more interest in this thing than other
godly men who have fled from the persecution of the priests of Baal,
to worship the God of our fathers in the wilderness according to the
promptings of our own conscience, but it doth become every one to keep
his lamp trimmed and burning, and to watch, lest the lion leap into
the fold. I misdoubt me much, that this same Sir Christopher Gardiner,
as he calls himself, or this Knight of the Golden Melice, as some have
it, meaning thereby, doubtless, malice, is no better than some
emissary of Satan, unto which opinion his interposing for this
blaspheming Joy doth strongly incline me. Therefore, good Ephraim,
keep thou thine eyes upon him, and shouldest thou be the instrument
elected by Providence to bring his wicked devices to light, great will
be thy praise and reward."
Having thus spoken, Spikeman waved his hand and turned away, to
intimate that the conference was at an end, but the man remained
standing.
"Wherefore do you delay? You may retire," said Spikeman. "I bethink me
that but a little time remains for preparation for the afternoon
lecture."
"Is not the laborer worthy of his hire?" inquired Ephraim. "Shall they
who work in the Lord's vineyard receive no wage?"
"My mind ran not on the perishable riches of this world," answered the
Assistant, pulling out, with a very ill grace, a well filled leathern
purse, and taking from it a silver piece, which he offered to the
servant, but the fellow had caught sight of gold, and was not so
easily to be satisfied.
"Is thy servant a dog?" he demanded. "The princely Governor would give
me gold for information of less value."
"Take two," replied Spikeman, holding out another, "and be content.
Reflect that you are one of the congregation, and have an equal part
in this inheritance with myself."
"I think not," said Ephraim, looking around the well-filled
store-house. "Is that a proper wage, your worship," he added, glancing
disdainfully at the money, "to offer one, who, on your account, risks
the slitting of his nose, and cutting off of his ears? Make the white
yellow and it will not be too much."
"Would that I had the treasures of Ophir for thy sake," exclaimed
Spikeman; "but I am a ruined man if thou require so much, Ephraim
Pike. But there, take the Carolus, and let it be an incentive to godly
action."
Ephraim received the gold piece, and his features relaxed into
something like a smile.
"Truly," said he, "did David, the man after God's heart, speak by
inspiration when he declared--'Never saw I the righteous forsaken, or
his seed begging bread.'"
Spikeman made no reply, and the man having attained his object, and
observing the other's desire to be rid of him, withdrew.
The countenance of the Assistant expressed chagrin and displeasure as
he looked after the retiring form of the serving-man; but presently he
buried his face in his hands, leaning his elbows on the tall
writing-table that stood before him. In this attitude he remained some
little time, and when he removed them, the expression of his face was
changed, and his mind evidently filled with other thoughts. The look
of vexation had been succeeded by one it is difficult to describe--a
kind of smile played around his lips, his eyes sparkled, his color was
heightened, and a slight moisture exuded from the corners of his
mouth--he was uglier and more repulsive than before. He bent over, and
on a piece of paper which lay before him, wrote with a hand that
trembled a little--"How fair and how pleasant, art thou O love, for
delights." This sentence he scrawled several times, and then taking up
the piece of paper, he tore it into small fragments, and scattered
them on the floor, after which, composing his face into an austere
seeming, he placed his high steeple-crowned hat on his head, and,
leaving the building, proceeded in the direction of his
dwelling-house. As he advanced leisurely along, he soon heard the
sound of a drum beaten through the streets, to summon the people to
one of those weekly lectures, in which spiritual instruction was not
unfrequently leavened with worldly wisdom and directions for political
conduct.
Meetings for religious lecture, on week days, were exceedingly common,
and held in high favor; indeed, so attractive were they, that in the
language of an old historian, an actor on the spot--"Many poor persons
would usually resort to two or three in the week, to the great neglect
of their affairs and the damage of the public." To these, the people
were summoned by beat of drum, the martial roll of which instrument
called them also to muster for defence, upon a hostile alarm, a
different tattoo being adopted for the latter purpose. An attempt was
at one time made by the magistrates to diminish the frequency of these
meetings, as a serious inroad upon the industry of the colony; but the
effort was resisted, and that successfully, by the elders, "alleging
their tenderness of the church's liberty, as if such a precedent might
enthrall them to the civil power, and as if it would cast a blemish
upon the elders, which would remain to posterity; that they should
need to be regulated by the civil magistrate, and also raise an ill
savor of the people's coldness, that would complain of much preaching,
&c, whereas liberty for the ordinances was the main end professed of
our coming hither." They were social beings, and loved stimulus like
the rest of mankind, and had no public amusements. These causes are
sufficient to account for the fondness for the weekly lecture; but if
to them be superadded the peculiarity of their civil and religious
polity, which inculcated an extraordinary affection for each other as
God's chosen people destined to communion, not here only, but forever;
and the isolation of their situation, cutting them off from
participation in the stirring events to which they had been
accustomed, we should wonder if they had not met frequently together.
The elders, jealous of their influence, showed in this instance, as
they did in others, a knowledge of human nature, superior to that of
the magistrates, and the latter were glad to retreat from the position
they had taken, "lest the people should break their bonds through
abuse of liberty," if the wholesome restraint exerted by the elders,
by means of the lectures, in order to retain the people in subjection
to the civil power, should be withdrawn.
As the Assistant walked on, he began to meet persons coming out of
their houses, in obedience to the invitation. There was the staid
citizen, whose sobriety bordered on sternness, with hair closely
cropped to avoid the "unloveliness of love-locks," covered with a
large flapped peaked hat, and arrayed in broad white band and
sad-colored garments, on whose arm leaned his wife, or walked
independently at his side, bearing on her head a hat of similar shape
to her husband's, or else having it protected with hood, or cap, or
coif; a white vandyke neckerchief falling over the shoulders, and
rising high in the neck; long-waisted bodice of velvet or silk, open
in front, and laced down to a point, on which was placed a rosette,
with voluminous fardingale of like material, gathered up in folds
behind, and supplying, though with more modesty and less bad taste,
the place of the more modern "bishop," now happily banished these
regions. Behind came the sons and daughters, attired like their
parents, and imitating them in gravity of demeanor. There were also
some indented apprentices and serving men and serving women, whom
either the zeal of their masters and mistresses required, or their own
tastes or ideas of duty induced to be present, while here and there,
at the corners of the streets, might be seen an occasional Indian,
with bow in hand, listening with admiration to the marvellous music of
the blood-stirring instrument, and gazing with feelings compounded of
fear and envy at the strange people gathering together to a talk with
the Great Spirit.
The Assistant Spikeman, as he passed the wayfarers, returned their
demure salutations with solemn dignity, as became one in high station,
and in whose ears was sounding a call to a meeting of the
congregation. Thus exchanging greetings, he proceeded to his house,
where, entering the room used by the family as a sitting apartment, he
hung up his hat and took a seat. But his agitation did not permit him
to remain still, and almost immediately he arose and began to pace the
floor. Hearing presently advancing footsteps, he dropped into a
chair, and leaning back and shutting his eyes, assumed an expression
of pain and lassitude. In a moment the door of the room was opened,
and a comely woman of middle age entered, dressed for the "meeting."
"Dear heart," she exclaimed, "here have Eveline and I been waiting for
thee this quarter of an hour. You must not, if you are so late,
complain of me hereafter, when the lacet of my bodice troubles me, or
the plaits of my hair refuse to keep their place, and so I delay thee
unreasonably, as thou sayest, though it is all to honor thee; for
would it not be unbeseeming for the help-meet of a worshipful
Assistant to appear like a common mechanic's wife? But art thou ill?"
she added, observing his air of dejection, and instantly changing the
tone that had in it something of reproach into one of anxiety; "then
will I remain at home to comfort thee."
"No, dame," said her husband, "there is no cause to detain thee from
the sanctuary. The godly Mr. Cotton holds forth to-day, and it would
be a sinful neglect of privileges. I feel not well myself, and must,
therefore, for thy sake, as well as my own, deny myself the
refreshment of the good man's counsel. Thou shalt go, to edify me on
thy return with what thou mayest remember of his discourse."
But the kind heart of dame Spikeman was not so easily to be diverted
from its purpose, and she persisted, with some pertinacity, in a
determination to remain, until her husband laid his commands upon her
to attend the lecture.
"I will obey," she then said, "sithence it is thy wish; and is it not
written, Adam was first made, and then Eve; and I will pray for thee,
dear heart, in the congregation, that He will keep thee in all thy
ways, nor let the enemy approach to harm or to tempt thee."
Spikeman winced, and perhaps his conscience pricked him at the moment,
but he betrayed no confusion as he replied:
"I thank thee, sweet duck, and may the Lord recompense thy love a
thousand fold. But hasten, now, for it would ill-become the wife of my
bosom to lag in attendance on the lecture. Meanwhile, I will meditate
on the holy volume, and comfort myself as a Christian man may."
Dame Spikeman's ample fardingale swept the sides of the doorway as she
turned to take a last look at her husband over her shoulder--a look
that contained as much of suspicion as of affection. He must be,
indeed, a paragon of hypocrisy who can conceal himself from his wife,
however dull she may be, and the faculties of the dame were as sharp
as those of most of her sex.
Presently she was heard calling, "Eveline; why, Eveline, art not ready
yet?" to which a sweet voice responded, "here am I, dame," succeeded
by the pattering of quick, light feet, and a young woman, veiled,
glided to her side, and they left the house together, accompanied by a
servant. Spikeman gazed after them through the window, which, as
belonging to a house of the better class, was made of glass instead of
oiled paper, which supplied its place in the humbler tenements, till
they were out of sight. The drum had some time before ceased its
sonorous rattle, indicating thereby that the services had commenced,
and the streets were bare of the last loiterer. Spikeman then resumed
his seat, listening and glancing occasionally at the door, as if he
was expecting some one to enter. At last, as if tired of waiting, he
rose, and going to the door, called softly, "Prudence." No answer was
returned, and in tones a little raised he called again. This time a
voice replied, "I am coming, your worship," and the Assistant returned
to his seat. Perhaps five minutes longer passed, and he was becoming
more impatient, and had risen from his chair, when a young woman in
the dress of an upper domestic, or lady's maid, entered the room. She
was apparently twenty-three or twenty-four years of age, large and
plump, and glowing with health, and altogether of a most attractive
appearance. Her complexion was brilliant, brighter on account of the
contrast with the white tunic which fell over her peach-blossom
colored fustian skirt, and her eyes, which were cast down when she
came into the room, disclosed hazel pupils as she raised them, and
looked red, as if she had been weeping.
"I have remained behind, according to thy desire," said the Assistant,
advancing toward her, "for there is nothing I would not do to pleasure
thee, Prudence."
"I know not that I requested you to tarry," answered the girl; "but an
I remember right, you said you had some tidings of Philip Joy which
you did wish to communicate to my private ear."
"Something have I to tell thee of the poor varlet," said Spikeman;
"but first would I rather speak of one who doth interest me more. But
say, why is thy mind so careworn about this soldier?"
"He is a friend of mine," said Prudence, blushing; "that is, we were
neighbors, and acquainted in dear old England--a cousin," she added,
telling naturally a little fib, "and so I am sorry to hear of his
misfortune."
"I hope that you do not long after the flesh-pots of Egypt," said
Spikeman, attempting to take her hand, which, however, she coyishly
withdrew. "What have we to do with England or her cramping ordinances,
which we have turned our backs upon forever? Was it not because of the
yoke she sought to put upon our necks that we abandoned her, here to
enjoy a wider liberty? Believe me, beautiful Prudence, there are
delights scattered all over the world, if there be only boldness and
wisdom to find them; nor is their enjoyment inconsistent with the joys
promised hereafter, whereof, indeed, they are the foretaste."
"O, sir," exclaimed the girl, "can you tell me anything about Philip?
Have you entreated the Governor, as you promised, to let him out of
that dreadful dungeon?"
"It is a horrid place," said Spikeman, "and men live not long who are
confined therein. If the soldier be imprisoned there a few days
longer, he is no better than a dead man. Vain has been my
intercession, though I despair not."
He paused to watch the effect of what he had said upon the girl. She
turned deadly pale, and seemed about to sink upon the floor. Spikeman
took her hand, which she no longer withdrew, but yielded passively, as
if in a state of stupefaction, and pressing it within his own, led her
to a sofa.
"Lovely Prudence," he said, "thou hast found favor in my eyes. Let not
the distance betwixt us overawe thee. These worldly distinctions are
but the inventions of men to suit a purpose, and there are times when
they are more easily torn away than the withes of the Philistines on
the hands of Samson. Dost thou comprehend me?"
Prudence raised her eyes, and fixed them with a bewildered stare upon
his face. She was so terrified at the thought of the danger to which
the soldier was exposed, and her mind so confused by the unusual
language of her master, that she was as much in a dreaming as a waking
state. Her lips quivered as she attempted to reply, but they made no
sound, and tears began to steal down.
"Would that I could stop the current of these tears, more precious
than orient pearls," sighed Spikeman. "Ask of me any other favor, and
I will move heaven and earth but it shall be granted."
"O, sir, said Prudence," sliding off from the sofa in spite of his
efforts to prevent her, and kneeling at his feet, "I have no other
favor to ask; but if you are truly willing to show kindness to a poor
girl like me, take Philip out of prison."
"But is it so light a thing to be done, sweet Prudence?" replied
Spikeman, raising her in his arms, and straining her to his bosom
before he replaced her on the sofa. "Nay, kneel not again," he added,
seeing that she was about to resume her attitude of supplication;
"that were a posture as fitting for me as for thee."
"O, sir," cried poor Prudence, "you are a great man, and can do
whatever you please. If you speak to the Governor again, he will let
Philip out. I am sure he meant nothing wrong. I am certain they told
wicked lies about him."
"Truly will I remonstrate again," said Spikeman. "So great is my
regard for thee, I will risk losing his favor for thy sake. But for
all the sacrifices I make, what shall be thy return to me?"
"I will pray night and day for you; I will be your slave; I will
worship the ground on which you tread."
"Sweet maiden," said Spikeman, passing his arm around her waist, "I
ask not so much. I ask thee only to be happy with me. Thy prayers,
though rising like morning incense, I need not. I would rather be thy
slave than have thee mine, and I worship thee already. Turn not away
thy cheek, but let me greet thee with the kiss of charity."
The girl averted not her glowing cheek, whereon, with these words, he
imprinted a passionate kiss, which he attempted to repeat, but
Prudence drew a little back, and removed his arm. His lips burned like
fire. She felt as if they had left behind a mark to betray her, and
she shuddered with aversion; but she believed the fate of the soldier
to be in his hands, and dared not to offend him. Besides, she was no
delicate lady, but strong and full of confidence, and feared no danger
to herself. As she marked his heightened color and kindling eyes, and
he made another attempt to salute her, she said, with half a
disposition to cry and half to laugh:
"Is not kissing and toying forbid by the elders and worshipful
magistrates?"
"They are forbid to them outside of the congregation, and who have no
Christian liberty," answered Spikeman--"to them who make a display of
what should be concealed, to avoid the scandal of the wicked; but not
to the elect and discreet, who can use their liberty as not abusing
it. Therefore, let me kiss thee with the kisses of my mouth, for thy
love is better than wine. Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou
art fair," he continued, pressing upon her; "thou hast dove's eyes
within thy locks. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet."
"Hark!" cried Prudence, pushing him back, "I hear a noise." "I hear no
sound," said Spikeman, after listening for a moment, "save the voice
of my beloved. O, speak, and say unto me, 'rise up, my love, and come
away, for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the time
of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard
in our land,'"
So saying, he caught her in his arms, and giving license to his fiery
passions, stamped repeated kisses upon her lips and bosom, in spite of
her struggles. But the sounds which the quick ears of Prudence had
detected became more and more distinct, and persons on foot and on
horseback were seen in the street returning from the lecture. Without
difficulty she broke from the now yielding arms of Spikeman, and had
just time to compose her disordered hair and tunic, when the voice of
the dame at the door was heard demanding admission.