Kenilworth

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XX.

  CLOWN. You have of these pedlars, that have more in'em than you'd think, sister.--WINTER'S TALE, ACT IV., SCENE 3.

  In his anxiety to obey the Earl's repeated charges of secrecy, as wellas from his own unsocial and miserly habits, Anthony Foster was moredesirous, by his mode of housekeeping, to escape observation than toresist intrusive curiosity. Thus, instead of a numerous household, tosecure his charge, and defend his house, he studied as much as possibleto elude notice by diminishing his attendants; so that, unless whenthere were followers of the Earl, or of Varney, in the mansion, oneold male domestic, and two aged crones, who assisted in keeping theCountess's apartments in order, were the only servants of the family.

  It was one of these old women who opened the door when Wayland knocked,and answered his petition, to be admitted to exhibit his wares to theladies of the family, with a volley of vituperation, couched in what isthere called the JOWRING dialect. The pedlar found the means ofchecking this vociferation by slipping a silver groat into her hand, andintimating the present of some stuff for a coif, if the lady would buyof his wares.

  "God ield thee, for mine is aw in littocks. Slocket with thy pack intogharn, mon--her walks in gharn." Into the garden she ushered the pedlaraccordingly, and pointing to an old, ruinous garden house, said, "Yonderbe's her, mon--yonder be's her. Zhe will buy changes an zhe loikesstuffs."

  "She has left me to come off as I may," thought Wayland, as he heard thehag shut the garden-door behind him. "But they shall not beat me,and they dare not murder me, for so little trespass, and by this fairtwilight. Hang it, I will on--a brave general never thought of hisretreat till he was defeated. I see two females in the old garden-houseyonder--but how to address them? Stay--Will Shakespeare, be my friend inneed. I will give them a taste of Autolycus." He then sung, with a goodvoice, and becoming audacity, the popular playhouse ditty,--

  "Lawn as white as driven snow, Cyprus black as e'er was crow, Gloves as sweet as damask roses, Masks for faces and for noses."

  "What hath fortune sent us here for an unwonted sight, Janet?" said thelady.

  "One of those merchants of vanity, called pedlars," answered Janet,demurely, "who utters his light wares in lighter measures. I marvel oldDorcas let him pass."

  "It is a lucky chance, girl," said the Countess; "we lead a heavy lifehere, and this may while off a weary hour."

  "Ay, my gracious lady," said Janet; "but my father?"

  "He is not my father, Janet, nor I hope my master," answered the lady."I say, call the man hither--I want some things."

  "Nay," replied Janet, "your ladyship has but to say so in the nextpacket, and if England can furnish them they will be sent. There willcome mischief on't--pray, dearest lady, let me bid the man begone!"

  "I will have thee bid him come hither," said the Countess;--"or stay,thou terrified fool, I will bid him myself, and spare thee a chiding."

  "Ah! well-a-day, dearest lady, if that were the worst," said Janetsadly; while the lady called to the pedlar, "Good fellow, stepforward--undo thy pack; if thou hast good wares, chance has sent theehither for my convenience and thy profit."

  "What may your ladyship please to lack?" said Wayland, unstrapping hispack, and displaying its contents with as much dexterity as if he hadbeen bred to the trade. Indeed he had occasionally pursued it in thecourse of his roving life, and now commended his wares with all thevolubility of a trader, and showed some skill in the main art of placingprices upon them.

  "What do I please to lack?" said the lady, "why, considering I have notfor six long months bought one yard of lawn or cambric, or one trinket,the most inconsiderable, for my own use, and at my own choice, thebetter question is, What hast thou got to sell? Lay aside for me thatcambric partlet and pair of sleeves--and those roundells of gold fringe,drawn out with cyprus--and that short cloak of cherry-coloured finecloth, garnished with gold buttons and loops;--is it not of an absolutefancy, Janet?"

  "Nay, my lady," replied Janet, "if you consult my poor judgment, it is,methinks, over-gaudy for a graceful habit."

  "Now, out upon thy judgment, if it be no brighter, wench," said theCountess. "Thou shalt wear it thyself for penance' sake; and I promisethee the gold buttons, being somewhat massive, will comfort thy father,and reconcile him to the cherry-coloured body. See that he snap them notaway, Janet, and send them to bear company with the imprisoned angelswhich he keeps captive in his strong-box."

  "May I pray your ladyship to spare my poor father?" said Janet.

  "Nay, but why should any one spare him that is so sparing of his ownnature?" replied the lady.--"Well, but to our gear. That head garniturefor myself, and that silver bodkin mounted with pearl; and take off twogowns of that russet cloth for Dorcas and Alison, Janet, to keep the oldwretches warm against winter comes.--And stay--hast thou no perfumes andsweet bags, or any handsome casting bottles of the newest mode?"

  "Were I a pedlar in earnest, I were a made merchant," thought Wayland,as he busied himself to answer the demands which she thronged one onanother, with the eagerness of a young lady who has been long secludedfrom such a pleasing occupation. "But how to bring her to a moment'sserious reflection?" Then as he exhibited his choicest collection ofessences and perfumes, he at once arrested her attention by observingthat these articles had almost risen to double value since themagnificent preparations made by the Earl of Leicester to entertain theQueen and court at his princely Castle of Kenilworth.

  "Ha!" said the Countess hastily; "that rumour, then, is true, Janet."

  "Surely, madam," answered Wayland; "and I marvel it hath not reachedyour noble ladyship's ears. The Queen of England feasts with the nobleEarl for a week during the Summer's Progress; and there are many whowill tell you England will have a king, and England's Elizabeth--Godsave her!--a husband, ere the Progress be over."

  "They lie like villains!" said the Countess, bursting forth impatiently.

  "For God's sake, madam, consider," said Janet, trembling withapprehension; "who would cumber themselves about pedlar's tidings?"

  "Yes, Janet!" exclaimed the Countess; "right, thou hast corrected mejustly. Such reports, blighting the reputation of England's brightestand noblest peer, can only find currency amongst the mean, the abject,and the infamous!"

  "May I perish, lady," said Wayland Smith, observing that her violencedirected itself towards him, "if I have done anything to merit thisstrange passion! I have said but what many men say."

  By this time the Countess had recovered her composure, and endeavoured,alarmed by the anxious hints of Janet, to suppress all appearance ofdispleasure. "I were loath," she said, "good fellow, that our Queenshould change the virgin style so dear to us her people--think not ofit." And then, as if desirous to change the subject, she added, "Andwhat is this paste, so carefully put up in the silver box?" as sheexamined the contents of a casket in which drugs and perfumes werecontained in separate drawers.

  "It is a remedy, Madam, for a disorder of which I trust your ladyshipwill never have reason to complain. The amount of a small turkey-bean,swallowed daily for a week, fortifies the heart against those blackvapours which arise from solitude, melancholy, unrequited affection,disappointed hope--"

  "Are you a fool, friend?" said the Countess sharply; "or do you think,because I have good-naturedly purchased your trumpery goods at yourroguish prices, that you may put any gullery you will on me? Who everheard that affections of the heart were cured by medicines given to thebody?"

  "Under your honourable favour," said Wayland, "I am an honest man, andI have sold my goods at an honest price. As to this most preciousmedicine, when I told its qualities, I asked you not to purchase it, sowhy should I lie to you? I say not it will cure a rooted affectionof the mind, which only God and time can do; but I say that thisrestorative relieves the black vapours which are engendered in the bodyof that melancholy which broodeth on the mind. I have relieved many withit, both in court and city, and of late one Master Edmund Tressilian, aworshipful gentleman
in Cornwall, who, on some slight received, it wastold me, where he had set his affections, was brought into that state ofmelancholy which made his friends alarmed for his life."

  He paused, and the lady remained silent for some time, and then asked,with a voice which she strove in vain to render firm and indifferent inits tone, "Is the gentleman you have mentioned perfectly recovered?"

  "Passably, madam," answered Wayland; "he hath at least no bodilycomplaint."

  "I will take some of the medicine, Janet," said the Countess. "I toohave sometimes that dark melancholy which overclouds the brain."

  "You shall not do so, madam," said Janet; "who shall answer that thisfellow vends what is wholesome?"

  "I will myself warrant my good faith," said Wayland; and taking a partof the medicine, he swallowed it before them. The Countess now boughtwhat remained, a step to which Janet, by further objections, onlydetermined her the more obstinately. She even took the first dose uponthe instant, and professed to feel her heart lightened and her spiritsaugmented--a consequence which, in all probability, existed only inher own imagination. The lady then piled the purchases she had madetogether, flung her purse to Janet, and desired her to compute theamount, and to pay the pedlar; while she herself, as if tired of theamusement she at first found in conversing with him, wished him goodevening, and walked carelessly into the house, thus depriving Wayland ofevery opportunity to speak with her in private. He hastened, however, toattempt an explanation with Janet.

  "Maiden," he said, "thou hast the face of one who should love hermistress. She hath much need of faithful service."

  "And well deserves it at my hands," replied Janet; "but what of that?"

  "Maiden, I am not altogether what I seem," said the pedlar, lowering hisvoice.

  "The less like to be an honest man," said Janet.

  "The more so," answered Wayland, "since I am no pedlar."

  "Get thee gone then instantly, or I will call for assistance," saidJanet; "my father must ere this be returned."

  "Do not be so rash," said Wayland; "you will do what you may repent of.I am one of your mistress's friends; and she had need of more, not thatthou shouldst ruin those she hath."

  "How shall I know that?" said Janet.

  "Look me in the face," said Wayland Smith, "and see if thou dost notread honesty in my looks."

  And in truth, though by no means handsome, there was in his physiognomythe sharp, keen expression of inventive genius and prompt intellect,which, joined to quick and brilliant eyes, a well-formed mouth, and anintelligent smile, often gives grace and interest to features which areboth homely and irregular. Janet looked at him with the sly simplicityof her sect, and replied, "Notwithstanding thy boasted honesty, friend,and although I am not accustomed to read and pass judgment on suchvolumes as thou hast submitted to my perusal, I think I see in thycountenance something of the pedlar-something of the picaroon."

  "On a small scale, perhaps," said Wayland Smith, laughing. "But thisevening, or to-morrow, will an old man come hither with thy father, whohas the stealthy step of the cat, the shrewd and vindictive eye ofthe rat, the fawning wile of the spaniel, the determined snatch of themastiff--of him beware, for your own sake and that of your distress.See you, fair Janet, he brings the venom of the aspic under the assumedinnocence of the dove. What precise mischief he meditates towards you Icannot guess, but death and disease have ever dogged his footsteps. Saynought of this to thy mistress; my art suggests to me that in her statethe fear of evil may be as dangerous as its operation. But see thatshe take my specific, for" (he lowered his voice, and spoke low butimpressively in her ear) "it is an antidote against poison.--Hark, theyenter the garden!"

  In effect, a sound of noisy mirth and loud talking approached the gardendoor, alarmed by which Wayland Smith sprung into the midst of a thicketof overgrown shrubs, while Janet withdrew to the garden-house thatshe might not incur observation, and that she might at the same timeconceal, at least for the present, the purchases made from the supposedpedlar, which lay scattered on the floor of the summer-house.

  Janet, however, had no occasion for anxiety. Her father, his oldattendant, Lord Leicester's domestic, and the astrologer, enteredthe garden in tumult and in extreme perplexity, endeavouring to quietLambourne, whose brain had now become completely fired with liquor, andwho was one of those unfortunate persons who, being once stirred withthe vinous stimulus, do not fall asleep like other drunkards, butremain partially influenced by it for many hours, until at length, bysuccessive draughts, they are elevated into a state of uncontrollablefrenzy. Like many men in this state also, Lambourne neither lost thepower of motion, speech, or expression; but, on the contrary, spoke withunwonted emphasis and readiness, and told all that at another time hewould have been most desirous to keep secret.

  "What!" ejaculated Michael, at the full extent of his voice, "am I tohave no welcome, no carouse, when I have brought fortune to your old,ruinous dog-house in the shape of a devil's ally, that can changeslate-shivers into Spanish dollars?--Here, you, Tony Fire-the-Fagot,Papist, Puritan, hypocrite, miser, profligate, devil, compounded of allmen's sins, bow down and reverence him who has brought into thy housethe very mammon thou worshippest."

  "For God's sake," said Foster, "speak low--come into the house--thoushalt have wine, or whatever thou wilt."

  "No, old puckfoist, I will have it here," thundered the inebriatedruffian--"here, AL FRESCO, as the Italian hath it. No, no, I will notdrink with that poisoning devil within doors, to be choked with thefumes of arsenic and quick-silver; I learned from villain Varney tobeware of that."

  "Fetch him wine, in the name of all the fiends!" said the alchemist.

  "Aha! and thou wouldst spice it for me, old Truepenny, wouldst thou not?Ay, I should have copperas, and hellebore, and vitriol, and aqua fortis,and twenty devilish materials bubbling in my brain-pan like a charm toraise the devil in a witch's cauldron. Hand me the flask thyself, oldTony Fire-the-Fagot--and let it be cool--I will have no wine mulled atthe pile of the old burnt bishops. Or stay, let Leicester be king ifhe will--good--and Varney, villain Varney, grand vizier--why,excellent!--and what shall I be, then?--why, emperor--Emperor Lambourne!I will see this choice piece of beauty that they have walled up herefor their private pleasures; I will have her this very night to serve mywine-cup and put on my nightcap. What should a fellow do with twowives, were he twenty times an Earl? Answer me that, Tony boy, you oldreprobate, hypocritical dog, whom God struck out of the book of life,but tormented with the constant wish to be restored to it--you oldbishop-burning, blasphemous fanatic, answer me that."

  "I will stick my knife to the haft in him," said Foster, in a low tone,which trembled with passion.

  "For the love of Heaven, no violence!" said the astrologer. "It cannotbut be looked closely into.--Here, honest Lambourne, wilt thou pledge meto the health of the noble Earl of Leicester and Master Richard Varney?"

  "I will, mine old Albumazar--I will, my trusty vender of ratsbane. Iwould kiss thee, mine honest infractor of the Lex Julia (as they saidat Leyden), didst thou not flavour so damnably of sulphur, and suchfiendish apothecary's stuff.--Here goes it, up seyes--to Varney andLeicester two more noble mounting spirits--and more dark-seeking,deep-diving, high-flying, malicious, ambitious miscreants--well, I sayno more, but I will whet my dagger on his heart-spone that refuses topledge me! And so, my masters--"

  Thus speaking, Lambourne exhausted the cup which the astrologer hadhanded to him, and which contained not wine, but distilled spirits. Heswore half an oath, dropped the empty cup from his grasp, laid his handon his sword without being able to draw it, reeled, and fell withoutsense or motion into the arms of the domestic, who dragged him off tohis chamber, and put him to bed.

  In the general confusion, Janet regained her lady's chamber unobserved,trembling like an aspen leaf, but determined to keep secret from theCountess the dreadful surmises which she could not help entertainingfrom the drunken ravings of Lambourne. Her fears, however, though theyassumed no certain shape, kept pace
with the advice of the pedlar; andshe confirmed her mistress in her purpose of taking the medicine whichhe had recommended, from which it is probable she would otherwisehave dissuaded her. Neither had these intimations escaped the earsof Wayland, who knew much better how to interpret them. He felt muchcompassion at beholding so lovely a creature as the Countess, and whomhe had first seen in the bosom of domestic happiness, exposed to themachinations of such a gang of villains. His indignation, too, had beenhighly excited by hearing the voice of his old master, against whom hefelt, in equal degree, the passions of hatred and fear. He nourishedalso a pride in his own art and resources; and, dangerous as the taskwas, he that night formed a determination to attain the bottom of themystery, and to aid the distressed lady, if it were yet possible. Fromsome words which Lambourne had dropped among his ravings, Waylandnow, for the first time, felt inclined to doubt that Varney had actedentirely on his own account in wooing and winning the affections of thisbeautiful creature. Fame asserted of this zealous retainer that hehad accommodated his lord in former love intrigues; and it occurredto Wayland Smith that Leicester himself might be the party chieflyinterested. Her marriage with the Earl he could not suspect; but eventhe discovery of such a passing intrigue with a lady of Mistress AmyRobsart's rank was a secret of the deepest importance to the stabilityof the favourite's power over Elizabeth. "If Leicester himself shouldhesitate to stifle such a rumour by very strange means," said he tohimself, "he has those about him who would do him that favour withoutwaiting for his consent. If I would meddle in this business, it mustbe in such guise as my old master uses when he compounds his manna ofSatan, and that is with a close mask on my face. So I will quit GilesGosling to-morrow, and change my course and place of residence as oftenas a hunted fox. I should like to see this little Puritan, too, oncemore. She looks both pretty and intelligent to have come of such acaitiff as Anthony Fire-the-Fagot."

  Giles Gosling received the adieus of Wayland rather joyfully thanotherwise. The honest publican saw so much peril in crossing the courseof the Earl of Leicester's favourite that his virtue was scarce able tosupport him in the task, and he was well pleased when it was likely tobe removed from his shoulders still, however, professing his good-will,and readiness, in case of need, to do Mr. Tressilian or his emissary anyservice, in so far as consisted with his character of a publican.