CHAPTER IV.
The first, forgive my verse if too diffuse, Performed the kitchen's and the parlour's use.
It was quite dark when Sir Osborne Maurice arrived at the gate of thehostel or inn, which consisted of a long row of low buildings, runningby the side of the road, with a straw-yard at the nearer end. Intothis the traveller guided his horse by the light of a horn lantern,which was held by no other person than Dame Winny herself, while herhusband, Master Thumpum, pared the hoof of a stout gelding which stoodtied to the stable-door. Things were arranged differently in thosedays from what they are now.
As soon as the good lady heard the sound of a horse's feet enteringthe court, she raised her melodious voice to notify to the servants ofthe house a traveller's arrival.
"Tim Chamberlain! Tim Chamberlain!" cried she, "here's a master onhorseback."
The chamberlain, for by such sonorous title did he designate himself,came forth at the summons, presenting not only the appearance of anostler, but of a bad ostler too; and after assisting the knight todismount, he took from the saddle the leathern bags which commonlyaccompanied a traveller on a journey in those days, and running hishand over the exterior, with the utmost nonchalance, endeavoured toascertain whether the contents were such as might be acceptable to anyof his good friends on the road.
Sir Osborne's first care was of his horse, which he ordered to beshod, for the purpose of proceeding immediately; but finding its footsomewhat tender, he at length determined upon passing the night at theinn rather than injure an animal on which his farther journey greatlydepended; and leaving the chamberlain to examine his bags more at hisleisure, he entered the kitchen, which was then the common room ofreception.
Night had by this time rendered the air chilly; and the sight of alarge fire, which greeted his eye as he pushed open the door, promisedhim at least that sort of reception for which he was most anxious, ashe did not propose to himself any great communion with those who mightbe within. The apartment was not very inviting in any other particularthan the cheerful blazing of the large logs of wood with which theearth was strewed, for the floor was of battened mud, and the variousutensils which hung round did not do great credit to the hostess'shousewifery.
Much was the confusion which reigned amidst pans, kettles, pots, andplates; and sundry were the positions of spits, gridirons, and ladles:in short, it seemed as if the implements of cooking had all got drunkafter a hard day's work, and had tumbled over one another the best waythey could in search of repose. From the large black rafters overhead,however, hung much that might gratify the eye of the hungry traveller,for the kitchen seemed to serve for larder as well as drawing-room.There might be seen the inimitable ham of York, with manifold sides ofbacon, and dangling capons, and cheeses store; and there, too, was thelarge black turkey, in its native plumes, with endless strings ofsausages, and puddings beyond account. Nor was dried salmon wanting,nor a net full of lemons, nor a bag of peas: in a word, it was a verycomfortably garnished roof, and in some degree compensated for thedisarray of the room that it overhung.
In those days, the close of evening was generally the signal for everytraveller to betake himself to the nearest place of repose; and withhis circle round the fire, and his own peculiar chair placed in themost approved corner of the vast chimney, mine host of the inn seldomexpected the arrival of any new guest after dark. It was then, if hiscompany were somewhat of his own degree, that he would tell his beststory, or crack his best joke; and sometimes even, after many anoverflowing flagon had gone round at the acknowledged expense of hisguests, he himself, too, would club his tankard of toast and ale, forwhich, it is probable, he found sufficient means to make himselfkindly reparation in some other manner.
In such course flowed by the moments at the inn, when Sir OsborneMaurice, pushing open the door of the kitchen, interrupted thelandlord in the midst of an excellent good ghost story, and made thewhole of the rest of the party turn their heads suddenly round, andfix their eyes upon the tall, graceful figure of the young knight, asif he had been the actual apparition under discussion.
The assembly at the kitchen-fire consisted only of six persons. Minehost, as above stated, in his large arm-chair, was first in bulk anddignity. Whether it be or not a peculiar quality in beer to turneverything which contains a great quantity of it into the shape anddemeanour of a tun, has often struck me as a curious question innatural philosophy; but certain it is that many innkeepers, but morepeculiarly the innkeeper in question, possess, and have possessed, andprobably will possess, so long as such a race exists, the size,rotundity, profoundness, and abhorrence of locomotion, which areconsidered as peculiar attributes of the above-named receptacle, aswell as the known quality of containing vast quantities of liquor.Mine host was somewhat pale withal; but sundry carbuncles illuminatedhis countenance, and gave an air of jollity to a face whose expressionwas not otherwise very amiable.
Next to this dignitary sat a worthy representative of a race now,alas! long, long extinct, and indeed almost unrecorded.
Oh! could old Hall or Holinshed have divined that the _Portingalcaptain_ would ever become an animal as much extinct as the mammoth orthe mastodon, leaving only a few scattered traces to mark the placesthrough which he wandered, what long and elaborate descriptions shouldwe not have had, to bear at least his memory down to coming ages! Butin the days of those worthy writers, Portugal, or, as they wrote it,Portingal, was the land from which adventure and discovery issuedforth over the earth, ay, and over the water, too; and they neverdreamt that the flourishing kingdom whose adventurous seamen exploredevery corner of the known world, and brought the fruits and treasuresof the burning zone to the frigid regions of the north, would everdwindle away so as to be amongst the nations of Europe like a sprat ina shoal of herrings; or certainly they would have given us a full andparticular description of a Portingal captain, from the top of hishead down to the sole of his shoe.
Luckily, however, the learned Vonderbrugius has supplied this defectmore to my purpose than any other writer could have done, not only bydescribing a Portingal captain in the abstract, but the very identicalPortingal captain who there, at that moment, sat by the fireside.
I have already hinted that the learned Theban's Latin is somewhatobscure, and I will own that the beginning of his definition ratherpuzzled me:--"_Capitanus Portingalensis est homo pedibus sex_----"
It was very easy to construe the first four words, like a boy atschool: _Capitanus Portingalensis_, a Portugal captain; _est homo_, isa man. That was all very natural; but when it came to _pedibus sex_,with six feet, I was very much astonished, till I discovered that theprofessor meant thus elegantly to express that he was six feet high.
But before I proceed with the particular account, it may be necessaryto say a word or two upon the general history and qualifications ofthe Portingal captains of that day. Portugal, as has been observed,was then the cradle of adventurous merchantmen; that is to say, of menwho gained an honest livelihood by buying and selling, fetching andcarrying, lying and pilfering, thieving wholesale and retail, swearinga great deal, and committing a little manslaughter when it wasnecessary. With these qualifications, it may well be supposed that thePortingal captains were known and esteemed in every quarter of theglobe except America; and as they were daring, hardy, boastingfellows, who possessed withal a certain insinuating manner of givinglittle presents of oranges, lemons, nutmegs, cinnamon, &c. to the gooddames of the houses where they were well received, as well as ofrendering every sort of unscrupulous service to the male part of theestablishment, it may equally well be supposed that some few peopleshut them out of their houses, and called them 'thievish vagabonds,'while a great many took them in, and thought them 'nice, good-humouredgentlemen.'
Freeholders of the ocean, their own country bound them by no verystrict laws; and if they broke the laws of any other, they took totheir ship, which was generally near, and, like the Greenwichpensioner, 'went to sea again.' Speaking a jargon of all languages,accommodating themselves to a
ll customs, cheating and pilfering fromall nations, and caring not one straw more for one country thananother, they furnished the epitome, the _beau-ideal_ of true citizensof the world.
The specimen of this dignified race who occupied a seat between minehost and hostess was, as we have seen, six feet high, and what sailorswould term broad over the beam. His neck was rather of the longest,and at the end of it was perched a mighty small head, whose front wasornamented with a large nose, two little, dark, twinkling eyes under apair of heavy black brows, and a mouth of quite sufficient size toserve a moderate-minded pair. Any one who has heard of a red Indianmay form some idea of his complexion, which would remind one of ablack sheep marked with red ochre; and from this rich soil sprangforth and flourished a long thin pair of mustachios, something afterthe Tartar mode. His dress was more tolerable than his face,consisting of a dark-brown doublet slashed with light green, muchresembling a garden full of cabbage stalks, with trunks and hosen tocorrespond; while in his belt appeared a goodly assortment ofimplements for cutting and maiming, too numerous to be recited; andbetween his legs, as he sat and rocked himself on his chair, he heldhis long sword, with the point of which he ever and anon raked freshashes round a couple of eggs that were roasting on the hearth.
Smiling on this jewel of a captain sat our landlady in the next chair,a great deal too pretty to mind the affairs of her house, and a greatdeal too fine to be very good. Now, the captain was a dashing man, andthough he did not look tender, he looked tender things; and besides,he was an old friend of the house, and had brought mine hostess many alittle sentimental present from parts beyond the sea; so that shefound herself justified in flirting with so amiable a companion bysmiles and glances, while her rotund husband poured forth hisale-inspired tale.
On the right hand of the hostess stood the cook, skewering up a finebreast of house-lamb, destined for the rere-supper of a stout oldEnglish clothier, Jekin Groby by name, who, placed in the other seatof honour opposite mine host, leaned himself back in a delicious stateof drowsiness between sleeping and waking, just hearing the buzzing ofthe landlord's story, with only sufficient apprehension left to catchevery now and then "_the ghost, the ghost_," and to combine that ideawith strange, misty phantasies in his sleep-embarrassed brain. Thesixth person was the turnspit-dog, who, freed from his Ixionian task,sat on his rump facing his master, on whose countenance he gazed withmost sagacious eyes, seeming much more attentive to the tale than anyone else but the cook.
As I have said, Sir Osborne threw open the door somewhat suddenly,startling all within. Every one thought it was the ghost. The landlordbecame motionless; the lady screamed, the cook ran the skewer into herhand; the turnspit-dog barked; Jekin Groby knocked his head againstthe chimney; and the Portingal captain ran one of the eggs through thebody with the point of his sword.
It has been said that a good countenance is a letter ofrecommendation, and to the taste of mine hostess it was the bestthat could be given. Thus, after she had finished her scream, and hadtime to regard the physiognomy of the ghost who threw open thekitchen-door, she liked it so much better than that of the Portingalcaptain, that she got up with her very best courtesy; drew a settle tothe fire next to herself; bade the turnspit hold his tongue; andordered Tim Chamberlain, who followed hard upon Sir Osborne'sfootsteps, to prepare for his worship the tapestry-chamber.
"I seem to have scared you all," said Sir Osborne, somewhat astonishedat the confusion which his entrance had caused. "What is the matter?"
"Nay, marry, sir, 'twas nothing," replied the landlady, with a sweetsimper, "but a foolish ghost that my husband spoke of."
"The foolish ghost has broke my head, I know," said Jekin Groby,rubbing his pole, which had come in contact with the chimney.
"Nay, then, the ghost was rude as well as foolish," remarked SirOsborne, taking his seat.
"Ha! ha! well said, young gentleman," cried the honest clothier. "Nay,now, I warrant thou hast a merry heart."
"Thou wouldst be out," answered Sir Osborne: "my heart's a sad one;"and he added a sigh that showed there was some truth in what he said,though he said it lightly.
"They sayo that thin doublets cover alway gay heart," said thePortingal captain. "Now, senhor! your doublets was not very thick,good youth."
"Good youth!" said Sir Osborne, turning towards the speaker, whom hehad not before remarked, and glancing his eye over his person; "goodyouth! what mean you by that, sir?" But as his eye fell upon the faceof the Portingal, his cheek suddenly reddened very high, and theglance of the other sunk as if quelled by some powerful recollection."Oh, ho!" continued the knight, "a word with you, sir;" and rising, hepushed away the settle, and walked towards the end of the room.
"Pray don't fight, gentlemen!" cried the hostess, catching hold of theskirt of Sir Osborne's doublet. "Pray don't fight! I never could bearto see blood spilled. John Alesop! Husband! you are a constable; don'tlet them fight!"
"Leave me, dame; you mistake me. We are not going to fight," said SirOsborne, leading her back to the fire; "I merely want to speak oneword to this fellow. Come here, sir!"
The Portingal captain had by this time risen up to his full height;but as he marched doggedly after the young knight, there was aswinging stoop in his long neck that greatly derogated from thedignity of his demeanour. Sir Osborne spoke to him for some time in alow voice, to which he replied nothing but "Dios! It's nothing to I!Vary well! Not a word!"
"Remember, then," said the knight, somewhat louder, "if I find you useyour tongue more than your prudence, I will, slit your ears!"
"Pan de Dios! you are the only man that dare to say me so," mutteredthe captain, following towards the fire, at which the knight nowresumed his seat, and where mine host was expatiating to Jekin Groby,the hostess, the cook, and the turnspit-dog, upon the propriety ofevery constable letting gentlemen settle their differences their ownway. "For," said he, "what is the law made for? Why, to punish theoffender. Now, if there is no offence committed, there is no offender.Then would the law be of no use; therefore, to make the law useful,one ought to let the offence be committed without intermeddling, whichwould be rendering the law of no avail."
"Very true," said his wife.
"Why, there's something in it," said Jekin Groby; "for when I was atcourt, the king himself ordered two gentlemen to fight. Lord a' mercy!it seemed to me cruel strange!"
"Nay, when wert thou at court, Master Jekin?" demanded the landlord.
"Why, have I ate lamb and drank ale at thy house twice every year,"demanded the indignant clothier, "and knowest thou not, John Alesop,that I am clothier, otherwise cloth merchant, to his most GraciousGrace King Henry? And that twice he has admitted me into his dignifiedpresence? And once that I staid six weeks at the Palace atWestminster? Oh! it is a prince of a king! Lord a' mercy! you neversaw his like!"
"Nay, nay, I heard not of it," replied the landlord. "But come, MasterJekin, as these gentlemen don't seem inclined to fight, tell us allabout the court, and those whom you saw there, while the lamb isroasting."
The honest clothier was willing enough to tell his story, and,including even the knight, every one seemed inclined to hear him,except indeed the Portingal captain, who was anxious to recommence hisflirtation with Master Alesop's dame. But she, having by chance hearda word or two about slitting of ears, turned up her nose at herforeign innamorato, and prepared herself to look at Sir OsborneMaurice, and to listen to Jekin Groby.
"Oh! it is a prodigious place, the court!" said the clothier, "a veryprodigious place, indeed. But, to my mind, the finest thing about itis the king himself. Never was such a king; so fine a man, or so noblein his apparel! I have seen him wear as many as three fresh suits aday. Then for the broidery, and the cloth of gold, and the cloth ofsilver, and the coat of goldsmiths' work: there was a world of riches!And amongst the nobles, too, there was more wealth on their backs thanin their hearts or their heads, I'll warrant. The nobility of the landis quite cast away, since the youngsters went to fetch back the LadyMary from France, af
ter her old husband the French king died. None butFrench silks worn; and good English cloth, forsooth, is too coarse fortheir fine backs! And then the French fashions, too, not only touchthe doublet, but affect the vest and the nether end; so that, withchamfreed edging, and short French breeches, they make such a comelyfigure, that except it were a dog in a doublet, you shall not see anyso disguised as our young nobility."[2]
While the good clothier proceeded, the Portingal had more than oncefidgeted on his seat, as if with some willingness to evade theapartment; and at length had risen and was quietly proceeding towardsthe door, when the eye of Sir Osborne Maurice fixed upon him, with asort of stern authority in its glance, which he seemed well tounderstand; for, without more ado, he returned to his settle, andshowed as if he had merely risen to stretch the unwieldy length of hislegs by a turn upon the floor.
In the mean time, Jekin Groby went on.
"It is a lewd age and a bad, I wot, and the next will be a worse,seeing that all our young gallants are so full of strange phantasies;that is, not to say all, for there is the young Earl of Derby, Godbless his noble heart! He is an honest one and a merry, and rightEnglish to the core. One day he meets me in the ante-chamber, where Ihad always leave to stand to see all the world go in and out, and hesays to me, 'Honest Jekin Groby,' says he, 'dost thou stand here inthe ante-room waiting for my Lord Cardinal's place, if he shouldchance to die?' 'Nay, my good lord,' I was bold to answer, 'I knowthat here I am out of place, yet my Lord Cardinal's would not suitme.' So then he laughed. 'Why not?' says he, 'for certainly thou artof the cloth.' But hark! they are crying in the court."
The honest clothier was right, for sundry sounds began to makethemselves heard in the court-yard, announcing the arrival of noinconsiderable party, which, if one might judge by the vociferation ofthe servants, consisted of people that made some noise in the world.
Up started mine host as well as his rotundity would let him; upstarted mine hostess, and out rushed the cook; while, at the samemoment, a bustling lacquey with riding-whip in hand, pushed into thekitchen, exclaiming, "What's this! what's this! But one tapestriedroom, and that engaged? Nonsense! it must be had, and shall be had,for my young lady and her woman!"
"A torch! a torch!" cried a voice without. "This way, lady. The rainis coming on very hard; we shall be much better here."
All eyes turned towards the door with that anxious curiosity whichevery small body of human beings feels when another person is about tobe added to the little world of the moment. But fastidious, indeed,must have been the taste that could have found anything unpleasing inthe form that entered. It was that of a sweet, fair girl, in thespring of womanhood: every feature was delicate and feminine, everylimb was small and graceful: yet with that rounded fulness which isindispensable to perfect beauty. Her colour was not high, but it wasfine; and when she found herself before so many strangers, it grewdeeper and deeper, till it might have made the rose look pale. I hatelong descriptions. She was lovely, and I have said enough.
By this time the hostess had advanced, and a venerable old man in aclerical robe had followed into the room, while mine host himselfrolled forward to see what best could be done for the accommodation ofthe large party that seemed willing to honour his inn with theirpresence.
"I heard something about the best chamber being engaged," said theyoung lady, in a voice that sweetly corresponded with her person, atthe same time turning half towards the hostess, half towards theclergyman. "I beg that I may disturb no one. Any chamber will do forme and my woman, if you think we cannot reach the manor to-night."
"Ay! but if we can have the best chamber, I don't see why not, lady,"said the lady's-maid, who by this time had followed.
Sir Osborne Maurice advanced. "If it is to me," said he, "that thebest chamber has been assigned, I shall feel myself honoured inresigning it to a lady, but infinitely more, if my memory serves meright, and that lady be Lady Constance de Grey."
"Good heaven, Master Osborne Maurice!" said the lady, colouring againwith evidently no very unpleasant feelings. "I thought you were inFlanders. When did----?"
But she had no time to finish her phrase, for the old clergyman casthimself upon Sir Osborne's neck, and wept like a child. "My dearOsborne!" cried he, "how? when? where? But I am a fool; how like youhave grown to your dear lady mother! Pardon me, my lord--I mean,sir--I don't know what I'm talking of. But you know you were my firstpupil, and like my child; and I never thought to see you again beforemy old eyes were covered with the dust. Alack! alack! what a fine manthou art grown! 'Tis just five years, come May, since you came to takeleave of me at the house of this my honoured lady's father; and mindyou how you taught her to shoot with the bow, and how pleased my goodlord her father was to see you?"
"I have not forgotten one circumstance of the kind hospitality I thenreceived," said Sir Osborne, "and never shall, so long as I havememory of anything."
"Ay, but she has lost the archery," said the old clergyman. "She haslost it entirely."
"But I have not lost the bow, Master Osborne," said the lady, with asmile: "I have it still, and shall some day relearn to draw it."
There was a strange difference between the manner of the clergyman andthat of the lady, when addressing the young knight. Lady Constanceevidently saw him with pleasure; but she seemed to feel, or tosuppose, that there existed between them a difference of rank, whichmade some reserve on her part necessary, while, on the contrary, theold man gave way to unlimited joy at meeting with his former pupil,though qualified by an air of respect and deference which mingledstrangely with the expressions of fondness that he poured forth.
By this time, the host and hostess having removed from the fire, andthe Portingal captain having quietly slipped away in the bustle, noone remained near it but Jekin Groby; and, he not being very terrificof aspect, Lady Constance placed herself in one of the vacant seatstill such time as her chamber should be prepared. Sir Osborne wrungthe old tutor's hand affectionately, and whispered, while he followedto the side of Lady Constance, "I have a word to say to you, and muchupon which to consult you."
"Good, good!" replied the old man, in the same subdued tone, "when thelady has retired."
Having seated themselves round the fire, the conversation was soonrenewed, especially between the tutor and Sir Osborne: Lady Constancesometimes joining in with her sweet musical voice, and her gentle,engaging manner, and sometimes falling into deep reveries, whichseemed not of the happiest nature, if one might judge by the grave,and even sad cast that her countenance took, as she fixed her eyesupon the embers, and appeared to study deeply the various forms theyoffered to her view.
In the mean time, the clergyman gradually engaged Sir Osborne todetail some of the adventures which he had met with during the fiveyears that he had served in the Imperial army then combating inFlanders; and then he spoke of "moving accidents by flood and field,of hair-breadth 'scapes in th' imminent deadly breach," and of muchthat he had seen, mingled with some small portions of what he himselfhad done; and yet, when he told any of his own deeds that had met withgreat success, he took care to attribute all to his good fortune and ahappy chance. It was thus, he said, that, by a most lucky coincidence,he happened to take two standards of the enemy before the eyes of thelate Emperor Maximilian, who, as a recompense, honoured him withknighthood from his own sword.
"Indeed!" exclaimed Lady Constance, waking from her reverie; "then Ido congratulate you most sincerely. The road to fortune and to fame isnow open to you, Sir Osborne, and I feel sure, I know, that you willreach the goal."
"A thousand thanks, lady, for your good augury!" replied the knight;"nor do I lack hope, though there are so many competitors in the fieldof fame that the difficulty of winning renown is increased. In thearmy of Flanders there is many an aspirant with whom it is hard tocontend."
"True," replied Lady Constance; "but even that makes the contentionmore honourable. Oh! we have heard of that army, and its feats ofarms, even here. We cannot be supposed to have received the names ofal
l those who have done high deeds; but they say that the young LordDarnley, the son of the unhappy Earl Fitzbernard, is realizing thetales of the knights of old. You must have met him, Sir OsborneMaurice. Do you know him?"
"I cannot say that I know him well," replied the knight, "though wehave served long in the same army. He has gained some renown, it istrue, but there are many men-at-arms as good as he."
"I know not well why," said Lady Constance after a pause; "but I havealways been much interested in that young gentleman's history. Theunexpected, and seemingly undeserved, train of misfortunes that fellupon his house, and the accounts that all men give of his gallantryand daring, his courtesy and accomplishments, have made him quite oneof my heroes of romance."
Whether it, be true that very high praises of another will frequentlyexcite some small degree of envy, even in the most amiable minds,matters not; but Sir Osborne did not seem very easy in his chair whileLady Constance recited the high qualities of his companion in arms. "Ihave heard," replied he at length, "that the fame which Lord Darnleyhas acquired, either justly or unjustly, has even reached the ears ofour sovereign lord the king, and has worked much in favour of thoseclaims which his family make to their forfeited estates. It is wellknown that his grace is the flower of this world's chivalry; and asthe young lord is somewhat skilful in the tournois, and at thebarriers, the king has, I hear, expressed a wish to see him, which, ifhe should come over, may turn favourably to his cause."
"God grant it may!" said Lady Constance, "although I have never seenthe young gentleman, and though the person who now holds his estatesis cousin to my deceased father----"
"Good God! is it possible?" exclaimed Sir Osborne, "that my lord yourfather is dead? But I might have divined it from seeing you herealone."
Lady Constance sighed. "I am indeed alone in all the world," saidshe. "My father has been dead these three years. My Lord CardinalWolsey claims me as ward of the crown; and as I am now in myone-and-twentieth year, he calls me to a place I hate: the court.Knowing no one there, loved of no one there, I shall feel like aninexperienced being in a sad, strange world. But when the time comesthat I may command my own actions, if they will ever let me do so, Iwill return to my father's halls, and live amongst my own tenantry.But to change a painful subject, my good father," she continued,turning to the clergyman, "were it not well to send a messenger to SirPayan Wileton, to let him know that we shall not arrive at his houseto-night, though we will take our forenoon meal with him to-morrow?"
The old clergyman seemed somewhat embarrassed. "I know not what todo," said he. "'Twould be better not to go at all, yet what can bedone? You promised to go as you went to London, and one ought alwaysto keep one's promise. So what can the lady do?" And he turnedabruptly to Sir Osborne, not so much as if he asked his advice as ifhe made him an apology.
"Why, the lady had certainly better keep her word," answered SirOsborne, with a smile; "but you know, my good old friend, that Icannot judge of the circumstances."
"Ay, true; I forgot," answered the other. "She must go, I am afraid,though she knows what the man is, and dislikes him as much as anyone----"
At this moment the chamberlain entered, with Lady Constance's woman,announcing that the tapestry chamber was now warmed and lighted; andthe young lady left them, with many apologies to Sir Osborne fordepriving him of his apartment.
"I warrant you, madam," said Tim Chamberlain, "his worship will bewell lodged; for 'tis but the next room to that he had, and 'tis allas good, bating the tapestry."
"I am a soldier, lady," said Sir Osborne, "and not much accustomed totapestry to my chamber, without it be the blue hangings of the sky,spangled with the starry broidery of heaven; but in truth I wish theyhad given me but a tramper's garret, that I might at least have hadsome merit in giving up the room."
As the honest clothier, Jekin Groby, who was little heedful ofceremony, still sat by the fire, though apparently dipped deeply inthe Lethean stream of an afternoon's doze, the conversation of SirOsborne Maurice with his old tutor could not be so private as theycould have wished, especially as the cook and the chamberlain werebustling about laying forth a table for the rere-supper, and two orthree lacqueys who had accompanied the litter of Lady Constance wererunning in and out, endeavouring to make as much noise as possibleabout nothing. However, they found an opportunity to appoint a placeof meeting in London, to which both were journeying, and it was agreedthat the first arrived should there wait for the other. Many questionsconcerning the state of England did Sir Osborne ask of the old man,for whom he seemed to entertain both reverence and love, and deeplydid he ponder all the answers he received. Often also did the tutorlook anxiously in the face of the young knight, and often did SirOsborne return it with the same kind of hesitating glance, as if therewere some subject on which they both wished to speak, yet doubtedwhether to begin.
At length Sir Osborne spoke out, more to the clergyman's thoughts thanhis words. "We will talk of all that hereafter in London," said he;"'twere too long to expose now. But, tell me one thing: know you, mygood father, a celebrated man called in Italy Cesario il dotto? Is heto be trusted? For I met with him to-day, when he much astonished me,and much won upon my opinion; but I knew not how far I might confidein him, though he is certainly a most extraordinary man."
"Trust your life in his hands!" exclaimed the tutor. "He is yourfather's best and dearest friend, and never has he ceased his effortsto serve him. We used much to dispute, for I am bound by my calling tohold his studies as evil; but certainly his knowledge was wonderful,and his intentions were good. God forgive him if he err in hisopinions! as in truth he does, holding strange phantasies of manysorts of spirits, more than the church allows, with various thingsaltogether heretical and vain. But, as I have said, trust him withyour life, if it be necessary; for he is a true friend and a good man,although his knowledge and his art be altogether damnable andprofane."
"'Tis strange I never heard my father name him," said Sir Osborne.
"Oh! he bore another name once," replied the tutor, "which he changedwhen he first gave himself to those dangerous studies that have sincerendered him so famous. It is a custom among such men to abjure theirname; but he had another reason, being joined in a famous conspiracysome thirty years ago."
"Why," said Sir Osborne, "he does not seem a very old man now!"
"He is full eighty," replied the clergyman; "and there is the wonder,for he seems never to change. For twenty years he was absent fromEngland, except when he came to be present at your birth. At lengtheverybody had forgotten him but your father, and he is now only knownby the name of Sir Cesar. Yet, strange as it may seem, he is receivedand courted by the great; he knows the secrets and affairs of everyone, and possesses much influence even in the court. It is true I knowhis former name, but under so strict a vow to conceal it that it cannever pass my lips."
"But how came he present at my birth?" demanded Sir Osborne, whosecuriosity was now highly excited.
"He came to calculate your nativity," replied the tutor, "which he didupon a scroll of parchment----"
"Fifty-six yards long by three yards broad," said Jekin Groby, waking,"which makes just one hundred and sixty-eight: yaw---- Bless me, Iforgot! Is supper ready? Host, host! Cook, serve quick, and thesegentles will take a bit of my lamb, I am sure."
"I thank you, good sir," said the knight, "but I must to bed, for Iride betimes to-morrow."
"So do I, faith," said the clothier; "and by your leave, sir knight,I'll ride with you, if you go toward Lunnun; for my bags are welllined, and company's a blessing in these days of plunder and robbery."
"With all my heart," replied Sir Osborne; "so that you have your horsesaddled by half-past five, we will to Canterbury together."
"Well, I'll be ready, I'll be ready," said the clothier; "but sureyou'll stay and taste the lamb and ale? See how it hisses andcrackles! Oh! 'tis a rare morsel, a neck of lamb! Stay stay!"
"I thank you, 'tis not possible," replied the knight. "Good night, myexcellent old fr
iend!" he continued, pressing the tutor's hand. "Weshall soon meet, then, at the house of your relation, Doctor Butts:till then, farewell!"
Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold Page 5