I was out of my Time; and was examined by the Master and Wardens of our Company whether I had duly and faithfully served my Apprenticeship: and being found sufficient and allowed, was presented to the Chamberlain of London to be made free; was sworn, and paid Two-and-sixpence.
I remember one of the Wardens eyed me rather curiously when I went up; and said, "So thou art young Osborne?" "Yea," quod the other, "the Knight of the Flying Leap!" an old Joke I thought every one had forgotten. Howbeit they shook Hands with me, and said they wished every Master as good a 'Prentice.
Thereafter I went to see Tomkins, whom I had lost Sight of a long Time. His Wife was spreading a clean Diaper over the Table, his little Girl playing with a Kitten on the Hearth, and a straggling Sunbeam through the Lattice was lighting up his pale, placid Face as he sate at his Loom. I have thought since, that ministering Spirits might have been passing to and fro on that Beam, unperceivable to my mortal Sense.
"Ha!" quod he, "this is a pleasant Sight. What! the blue Gown is thrown off at last! But how? no Scallops? no Slashes? no Taffeta-lined Cloke, nor Shirt edged with Silver? Thou keepest within the Statute, at all Events. Why, Miles goes as fine as a Popinjay! Howbeit, I like your dark brown better than his Eggs and Spinach; 'tis good Taste, Lad, not to dress above one's Degree. All the World can see which is the Gentleman's Son, which the Burreller's."
"Thou art e'en too hard on poor Miles," quod I. "He is working very hard just now in hope of marrying."
"All the better," saith Tomkins; "many a second-rate Fellow is made better by a first-rate Wife. What? is he thinking of Tryphosa?"
"Oh no," quod I, laughing, "he thinks her quite too old."
"Look you there now!" quod he, much amused, "too old, forsooth! To hear how Boys talk! Marry, you must sup with us, and tell me about Everything; that is, if you can condescend to eat aught but Manchet-bread in these grand Days. Step down to Fishmongersrow, dear Dinah, and fetch us a Crab."
"That's a long Step, Tomkins," observed his Wife, "would not Something I could get nearer do as well?"
"No," quod he gently, "I want a Crab, and I want it from thence; so oblige me, good Dinah."
"That I will," replied she, cheerfully, tying on her Hood, and departing the next Minute with her Child in her Arms.
"I remember," quod Tomkins, laughing, "how you and Miles played away at the Crab on our Wedding-day. And if you spurn such homely Dainties now, you'll be Home in Time for your real Supper after all. 'Tis but Three o' the Clock."
"To hear you Talk," said I, "one would think we lived just now in Lubberland, where the Rivers run Gravy and Apple-sauce, and the roast Pigs run about, saying, Come eat me."
"Why, is not Master Hewet Sheriff?" quod Tomkins, "and doth he not ride a gray Horse and wear a velvet Coat and a Jewel in his Cap? Sure, you must be steeped in Wassail and Feasting."
"Ah," quod I, "there's little real Mirth in it. Seldom do we see a Smile now on Master Hewet's Face ... Mistress Anne is in the Country; Mistress Fraunces does the Honours with all Grace, many People come and go, new Servants wait, many fine Dishes are cooked and eaten; but the Times are so bad, there is little Hilarity with it all."
"Aye?" quod he, lowering his Voice, "is't e'en so?" Then changing his Manner altogether, he rose, sate by the Fire, and pointed me to a Seat over-against him.
"Ned," saith he, "what is to be looked for, when the very Heavens above, though without articulate Voice or Sound, proclaim coming Judgment? Two Suns shining at once i' the Firmament! The Bow of Mercy, not indeed withdrawn, but reversed; the Bow turned downward and the two Ends standing upward! Didst see it?"
I said, I did; it had puzzled the Wise and affrighted the Weak.
"Well might it do either or both," quod he. "Well! ... we shall see what comes of it. These Foreshadows are sometimes sent in Mercy, that thoughtful People may prepare. 'Fearful Sights and great Signs shall there be from Heaven.' 'And when these Things begin to come to pass, lift up your Heads, for your Redemption draweth nigh.' 'And he that endureth unto the End, the same shall be saved.' 'Settle it therefore in your Hearts not to meditate beforehand what ye shall answer; for I will give you a Mouth and Wisdom that all your Adversaries shall not be able to gainsay nor resist.' 'In your patience possess ye your Souls.'"
"Tomkins!" cried I, filled with sudden Admiration, "thou couldst not always have thus quoted and applied the Bible!"
"Lad," quod he, "Times are altered. I don't suppose there was ever a quiet, fair-spoken Man nearer the Edge of the Pit of Destruction than I was, a few Years back. Just as I was trifling on the Brink, a Child's Voice called me back. Ned! 'twas thine. I had known, for Months and Years, what 'twas to lie down with a Heart ill at Peace with God. He that is very glad to get into a good and safe Covert, will not waste his Time in dallying with too curious Subtleties. Since I have gone the Way I should, Years have seemed like Days! I have tasted the Life of Life: yet never was more ready to lay it down at my Master's Feet! 'Tis all I have to give him!"
"I hope," said I, after a Pause, "there will be no Need."
"But what have we to expect?" quod he. "Here's the Mass and all its Mummery revived on every Hand, Mass Priests set in the Place of godly Preachers, and good Men deprived and cast into Prison. Philip of Spain and Cardinal Pole will presently sweep all before them, and make a clear House on 't! Do you remember—but, peradventure 'twas before thy Time—Master Chester coming to Master Hewet, and putting it to him what he should do with a 'Prentice Lad of his, one Lawrence Saunders, whom he had overheard hard wrestling in Prayer, and found wholly given to spiritual Contemplation and the reading of godly Books? Master Hewet advised his cancelling his Indentures and sending him to Cambridge, which he did; and the good Youth did no small Credit to his kind and enlightened Master. But, last October, Ned, he preached a Sermon in All-hallows' Church, the pure Doctrine whereof brought him into Trouble; for Bonner and the Chancellor called him a frenzy Fool and committed him to Prison, where he hath lain, in great hardness, ever since; nor will come forth, I fear me, except to be burned. Then there's good Bishop Hooper—"
"Ah," said I, "when he was committed to the Fleet last September, he had nothing for his Bed but a little Pad of Straw and a rotten Covering, with a Tick and a few Feathers therein, in a foul and unwholesome Chamber. And this we had from his Man John Downton, Brother to our Maid Damaris; whereon Master Hewet sent him Money and a good Bed."
"Then there's young Hunter the 'Prentice," continued Tomkins, "was brought up for refusing to receive the Mass Communion this Easter. His Master contrived to send him down to his Father's at Brentwood, where he presently fell again into Trouble for reading of the Bible that lay on the Clerk's Desk, and was set in the Stocks twenty-four Hours. And then they sent him up to Bonner, who set him in the Stocks at his own Gate for two Days and two Nights, with only a Crust of Bread and a Cup of Water; the Lad's young Brother all the while sitting by him. Then he was cast into the Convict Prison, as heavily ironed as one of his tender Years could bear, and hath lain there ever since, with a Halfpenny a Day for his Keep. Could you or I shew such Constancy, think you?"
"You might, but I could not," said I.
"You might, but I might not," sighed he—"not the Thing that will follow."
And, suddenly thrusting his Hand into the very midst of the Fire, which was burning fiercely, he as suddenly plucked it out; turning on me a Look I shall never forget! It expressed the Anguish of a Man weighed in the Balance and found wanting. We sate for a few Seconds in perfect and most painful Silence; his Hand, in great Blisters, resting on his Knee. Suddenly I started up and laid my Hand on his Shoulder.
"Tomkins," cried I, "what are you thinking of?"
"I was thinking," returned he with filling Eyes, "how unworthy I was of the Saviour that died for me."
"But your Hand! did not you feel the Smart?"
"My Hand?" cried he, starting and looking down upon it. "No, not just then! I'd forgotten it."
"See! see!" cried I, "what may be the Victory of the Spirit over the Flesh! What has been, may be again. As our Day, our Strength shall be."
The large Tears came into his Eyes. "Ned," quod he, "I will never doubt it again."
"And now," said I, "let me dress your Hand, for I know Something of Burns." So I went out and got white Cotton Wool, and wrapped a great Pad of it about his Hand, and tied it up neatly; and, just at that Time, his Wife came in with the Crab.
"Why, what's the Matter?" cried she, changing Colour.
"Nothing at all, my Love," returned her Husband cheerfully, "save that I've burnt my Hand."
"Ah," said she, "you wist the Handle of the Kettle was loose.... I won't pity you at all! Is it a very bad Hurt, though?"
"Nothing to speak of," quod he.
"Forsooth, and you couldn't smile so, an' 'twere—only thou hast made such a great Bundle of it. Shall I tie it up neater for thee, Husband?"
"No, sweet Heart, it does well enough. So now for the Crab.... And so young Mistress Anne is in the Country?"
"At the Hall," quod I, "with her Uncle."
"Ah," sayth he quietly, "the Squire hath two fair Sons ... I think she will settle down there one of these Days."
I love not to think of that Year: still less of those which followed after it! In July, Philip of Spain landed on our Shores, and as he placed his Foot for the first Time on British Ground, he drew his Sword, and carried it a little Way naked in his Hand; which, if it meant Anything, certes did mean no Good. The Mayor of Southampton brought him the Keys of the Town, which he took and gave back without the least Token of Good-will or Civility for the Respect. Five Days thereafter, his Marriage with the Queen was solemnized at Winchester, he being seven and twenty, and she eight and thirty; and thereon they were together proclaimed as King and Queen of England. An Evil Song to English Ears! But oh! the Shews and Pageants that were got up to welcome them in London! Giants, offering Addresses; our Condyts running Wine; and what not?
Thereafter, the Queen and her King behoved to go to Hampton Court; where, I will just observe, the Hall-door was continually kept shut, so as no Man might enter, unless his Errand were first known; which might perhaps be the Fashion in Spain, but to plain, honest Englishmen, seemed very strange.
About this Time there were so many Spaniards in London, that for one Englishman in the Stretes thou mightest meet four Spaniards, with their long, sly Slits of Eyes, and hairy Faces; so that it behoved us to keep our Hall-doors shut and look to our Spoons, for I never heard the King Consort undertook to stand Bail for them. About September they went their Ways; not entirely paying their Bills.
About this Time, the Disaffection of the Body Politic was betrayed by a small Rising in Suffolk, soon put down. Howbeit, it gave Occasion for a Talk of twelve thousand Spaniards coming over to strengthen the Crown. Also, from the Queen's common Ordinary of her Household was struck off twenty-two Messes of Meat; which was considered to be paring the Cheese rather close.
Also, the new Coins were issued: them that we call the Double-face. The Spanish Prince, to buy good Opinion, had brought over Heaps of Gold with him. In one Day, there came to the Tower twenty Carts guarded by Spaniards, each containing twenty-seven Chests of Treasure, matted about with Mats. But Gold won't buy Love: the common Talk was how he held himself close, and lived sullen, without ever an English Lord at Court save only the Bishop of Winchester.
Then Bishop Bonner began his Visitation, to see the old Service set up, and paint out the Scripture Texts on the Church-walls, and set up the Images. They say that, in conducting this Matter, he was little short of a raging Madman, whenever he met with any, the least Opposition.... I think thou mayst believe it of him, when thou hearest what I have presently to say.
Master Hewet's Shrievalty was out; and never was Man better pleased to slip his Neck out of the Collar. We were sitting peaceably together, when a Woman comes in to him all in Tears. 'Twas Tomkins' Wife, poor Dinah, to do us to wit that Tomkins, with sundry others, had been apprehended by Bishop Bonner, and taken for Examination to his Palace at Fulham. "And, unless their Manhood fail them," quo' she, weeping, "we may give them up for lost; for he makes the Real Presence a Net for catching Small and Great." We comforted her all we could; but she spake too true a Word.
The Constancy of this poor Weaver, Hew, shewn under Examination, was very notable. There were six Prisoners in all; but Tomkins, perhaps on Account of his being the elder of them, was brought most forward. To intimidate these poor Men the more, Bishop Bonner had got together a goodly Muster of his Clergy and Friends, Dr. Chedsey, Master Harpsfield, and others. Beginning the Attack, according to his Wont, with the Real Presence, he put it to Tomkins whether or no he believed in Transubstantiation. On Tomkins' meekly but firmly confessing he did not, and giving his Reasons for that Confession, Bonner struck him on the Face with his Fist, and violently tore out a Handful of his Beard. Tomkins bare this in Silence, remembering Him who stood before Caiaphas. Then Bonner, lashing himself up, began anew to question him; and being still unable to catch him in his Talk, he seized him by the Wrist; and holding his Hand over a lighted Candle of three or four Wicks that stood on the Table, savagely kept it there till the Veins shrank and the Sinews burst.
"But, Ned," quoth this meek Martyr, telling me of it in Newgate, "though one of the Bishop's own Friends that stood by turned so sick that he cried, 'Hold! enough!' I affirm unto you that I was so rapt, and in such immediate Communion with my God and Saviour, that, at that Time, I felt or was sensible of no Pain! I say not I felt none afterwards: I feel it now. But ne'er-theless, I tell thee, Ned, I am ready not only to suffer this, but also to die for the Name of the Lord Jesus, if it be his Will."
And many other such godly and comfortable Words he spake, both then and during the next six Months; for I was continually with him. And, during all that Time, his Courage never waxed faint, but he bare that long Probation and Suspense patiently and cheerfully; never rising into Rapture, but full of Love and Hope; and grateful exceedingly unto Master Hewet, for keeping his Wife and Child in Bread all that Time.
Then saw I, how diverse, yea, how inferior is that Sort of instinctive animal Courage which made me leap from London Bridge, from that moral Courage which enableth a Man kept low, and contumeliously treated, to support, by the Space of half an Year, the Prospect of a cruel and lingering Death.
—Ah, Boy, thou mayest say what thou listest:—thou art a young Soldier.—Besides, thou hast both Sorts; one, maybe, from me; and one from her.
And now, to crown all, came over Cardinal Pole, whom our Spanish King came down to the Water-side to meet, so soon as he had learned he had shot the Bridge. But in Faith, Hew, he was not so evil as the others. He was no longer the Man for whom Queens might die in Love; still less the Youth that had bandied Jests with More and Erasmus:—he had known Sorrow, I wot!—his Mother, his Brother, his Cousin, had been brought with Sorrow to their Graves; and albeit his Friends did say of him he should be called non Polus Anglus, sed Polus angelus, he carried his Sadness in his Face.
And now, the Church and Realm of England were proclaimed reconciled to the Pope of Rome, the slavish Parliament put its Neck under the Queen's Foot, there was great singing of Te Deum, and great kindling of Bone-fires;—Alas! there were to be other Bone-fires soon.
The New Year opened ominously. About thirty Citizens, Men and Women, privately receiving the Communion of Mr. Rose, their Minister, in a House in Bow Churchyard, were haled to Prison. For thou seest, Hew, Romanism had now, through the Slavishness of our Parliament, been re-established as the Law of the Land, which all Friends of good Order were bounden to uphold; wherefore those were constrained to break it and be classed as bad Citizens who chose rather to abide by the Law of God—a Dilemma that ought never to have happened. They that are set in foremost Places are bounden to stand in the Breach, that Evil ensew not unto them whose Place is behind them.
Now, see in what a Strait was Master Hewet. He and every other Alderman had to attend Paul's Church on Paul's Day, where the King and Cardinal came in great State, to give Thanks for the Re-conversion of the Realm to the Roman Catholic Church. This was on the 25th; and on the 28th, the Bishops had Commission from the Cardinal to try all such Preachers and Heretics as lay in Prison. By Virtue whereof, Gardiner and the other Bishops had up before them that very Day, Bishop Hooper, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Cardmaker, and others, in the Church of St. Mary Overy. I stood, with others, at the Church Door, to see the Prisoners come out. They were remanded to the Compter in Southwark about four o' the Clock, just as 'twas growing dark, till nine the next Morning; and as they came forth, I saw good Bishop Hooper look back and wait a little for Master Rogers, whom, when he came up, he cheerfully addressed with, "Come, Brother Rogers, must we two take this Matter first in Hand, and begin to fry these Fagots?" "By God's Grace, Sir," quod Rogers, "we will." "Doubt not," returns the good Bishop, "but God will give us that." And so passed on, Hand in Hand, much cheered and pressed on by the People.
Next Day, they were re-examined and condemned and degraded. The Sheriffs had much ado to guard them to the Clink in Southwark, where they kept them in Ward till Dark, hoping the Throng would disperse or ere they brought them across the Bridge to Newgate. Howbeit, about eight o' the Clock, I being alone and busied, heard a great Rumour, followed by sharp, shrill Cries along the Bridge, and Master Hewet, stepping in, all in a Heat, sayth, "Lights! Lights!" I mutely gave him mine, and fetched another, and we stood at the Door, protecting the Candles from the Wind with our Hands. Others were hastily bringing Candles to their Doors; and still we could hear Men and 'Prentices running forward and crying "Lights!"
"They thought to do a Deed of Darkness in the dark," quod Master Hewet, wiping his Brow, "and to smuggle them across to Newgate under cover of the Night; and so sent forward to have all the Candles at the Costermongers' Stalls extinguished ... but, if they're ashamed of their Work, let them abye it!... God speed you, Master Hooper! God save you, Master Rogers! The Blessing of God be on you and on all like you!"
"The same to you all, dear Friends!" responded the cheerful Voice of the good Bishop as he passed. "The Lord have you all evermore in his keeping."
And then Master Hewet went in and covered his Face and wept.
J Jellicoe
"Covered his face & wept"
I may as well tell thee now, Hew, by way of Relief to heavier Matters, the ludicrous Form that Miles's Protestantism took. He was never one of the most serious; and when Master Hewet, at the preceding Easter, had, on Compulsion as Alderman of the Ward, given formal Notice to every Householder, with their Families, to prepare to confess and receive the Sacrament, Miles sayth with a knavish Look at me, "I must do Somewhat first, to confess about."
Presently after that I heard him coaxing Mistress Fraunces's white Cat with, "Pussy, Pussy, Pussy! come to Preferment, Pussy!" But Puss, as if she smelt Mischief in the Wind, flew up the Chimney. Then quod he, "Thou'rt too good for the Purpose, after all. I must go pay my Duty to the Sub-prioress that lives all alone with her Cats." Quod I, "What Mischief are you about now?" Saith he, "If you ask no unpleasant Questions, you'll hear no unpleasant Answers. What if I want to get up a little Masque of Puss in Boots?"
Next Day, at dawning, there was seen in Chepe, on the Gallows that had been set up for the Kentish Rioters, a Cat suspended, apparelled like a Priest ready to say Mass, with a shaven Crown, and her two forefeet tied over her Head, with a round Paper like a Wafer-cake put between them, as though in the Act of raising the Host. Fits of boisterous Laughter rang through Chepe: howbeit, the Queen and Bishops were in great Dudgeon; and a Proclamation was made, that same Afternoon, that whosoever should bring forth the guilty Party should have twenty Nobles, which was afterwards increased to twenty Marks: but I need not say that nobody ever claimed it. I think I might have put the Money in my Pocket if I would.
Howbeit, neither Miles nor I felt ourselves called upon to confess to the Priest; in special as Master Hewet never enforced it on any, after the first formal Notice: and I wot, he went not himself. Indeed, it was marvellous, he said in after Years, that considering how open he laid himself to Animadversion on these Matters, no Enemy took Advantage of him; howbeit, I doubt if he had one; there were many to make common Cause with him, and he was much loved throughout the Ward.
But I have not done with Miles yet. The next Offence his Protestantism took was at an Idol of Thomas à Becket, which the Lord Chancellor caused to be set up over the Mercers' Chapel Door, in Chepe: which, within two Days, had its Head lopped off in the Night. Upon this rose great Disturbance, and one Mr. Barnes, a Mercer, who lived over-against the Chapel, was vehemently accused by my Lord Wriothesley of being Principal or Accessary to the Deed. He defended himself with every Semblance of Innocence; nevertheless, he and three 'Prentices were imprisoned for a Day or two; and, though Nothing was proven against him, he was, on his Delivery, bound in a great Sum of Money to repair the Image so often as it should be broken down, and also to watch and defend the same. I should never have suspected Miles of having had Aught to do with this Matter, save for his gloomy and guilty Looks while Barnes lay in Ward, and for his great Access of Gaiety when he was let forth. Howbeit, there are some People whose absolute Genius and Destiny seems to be Mischief; and, a Day or two after the Image's Restoration, I heard Miles, after pacing up and down the Chamber awhile like a chafed Lion in a Cage, exclaim in a Sort of Desperation, "I must do it again!" And next Day, the second Head was missing. This Time, a hundred Crowns of Gold were offered for Discovery of the Culprit. But they never were claimed. Then quod Miles, embracing me with an unwonted Ardour of Affection, "Ned! thou'rt a capital Fellow!"
Howbeit, Miles presently became absorbed in his Love-affair, which brought his protestant Zeal to a very ignoble Termination. He now lodged at some Distance from us, and kept his private Concerns very much to himself. Having one Day Occasion to speak to him at his Lodging, I there found not only his Mother, but an exceeding pretty young Woman. "Ned!" quod he, "this is my Wife; I forgot to tell you before, that I was married!" "I've a great Mind to forget it too!" sayth she, pouting, as I went up to salute her, "the Saints be my Witness!" at which, I looked attentively at her and then at him.
He followed me to the Door when mine Errand was sped. "Ned," whispered he, and coloured all over, "there'll be no more hanging of Cats!... She's a staunch Roman, is Nell! and I'm obliged to conform, I can tell thee! Rely on't, there's much to be said upon both Sides!" And this was he, had said he was as firm as London Stone.
I shook my Head at him, but was not, just then, going to attempt his Conversion. By way of confirming myself in the Faith, I passed on to Newgate, where I saw Tomkins, young Hunter, and their Fellow-prisoner in the Lord, Master Rogers, who was to suffer the next Morning. To hear him talk, one would have thought he saw Heaven opened, and the bright Vision that St. Stephen had, revealed to his inward Eye; and he mightily strengthened his Brethren. His Wife being denied Access to him, he prayed me give her a Kerchief, the only poor Token he had to send; and to bid her, if she had Strength for 't, to be by the Wayside with the Children, next Morn, on the Way to Smithfield. I took her there myself; the poor Soul was wondrously supported; and when the good Man came by, I held one of his little Children towards him, prompting him to say, "The Lord will strengthen thee, Father!" Which, indeed, he did.
Well, after the Euthanasy of this blessed Proto-martyr, who, as though to confirm the Courage of those that came after, did literally wash his Hands in the Flame as if he felt no Smart, Tomkins' Courage, strange to say, greatly departed from him, and he doubted much if he should hold firm unto the End. Thereon, great Prayer was made for him by his Brethren in Bonds, and, I am bold to say, at one or two solitary Bed-sides: and it came to pass, at all Events, that he was strengthened to go through his next Examination, with young Hunter and the Rest, in Paul's Consistory, five Days after Rogers was burned. The Lad Hunter, who stood by his Brother to the Last, heard all five Prisoners condemned to die by Bonner.
Thereon Mistress Fraunces and I went, under Shadow of Evening, to Tomkins' Wife. She was in strong Fits, with sundry poor Women about her; and, leaving Mistress Fraunces to add to their tender Ministrations, I went on to Newgate, if haply Master Hewet's Name might still serve me to have Access to my poor Friend. Directly I saw him I knew, by the mild steady Light in his Eye, that his Courage was safe! "Ned," quod he, "I was given over a little While unto Darkness, just to let me feel that the Strength within me was none of mine; but now, my Friend hath come back to me, and I rejoice in his Light! Soon we shall be eternally together; and oh! how much we shall have to tell and to hear. Little will it matter, then, whether my Ashes were scattered to the four Winds, or collected in a stone Jug like a Roman's. Direct poor Dinah to the seventy-seventh Psalm; I know it will comfort her. Dear Master Hewet will keep her from Want; and she will presently retire to her Friends in the Country. So, thou seest, I have no Fear for Temporalities! Look! she hath made me this long white Shirt to wear to-morrow; my Wedding-garment, I call it. Tell her every Stitch she set in it evidenced her Faith, as every Blow wherewith Abraham clave the Fagots whereon to offer his Son, proved his. And a lighter Sacrifice is exacted of her, for she hath not to slay me, only to resign me. And now, good speed, good Ned.... Don't be at Smithfield to-morrow, only stand by the Way as I go along ... thou hast risked too much for me already."
In Sooth I ne'er thought twice of the Risk; but I doubted whether what he could bear to feel, I could bear to see. I stood over-against the Door as he came forth; our Eyes met; and in a Tone that had Somewhat of Musicalness in it that searched and sank into the very Heart, he sayth, "The Night is far spent, Lad! the Day is at Hand!"
Those Token-words drew me irresistibly after him. I felt no Fear, no Horror just then; only that our two Souls clave together, and that mine must keep near his till 'twas caught up. So I kept a little in advance, and eyed him now and then, that he might just see I stood by him; and I think it gave him Pleasure, for I once heard him say, "The Presence of a Friend, that cleaveth to us unto Death, how good is it!"
But Martyrs were forbidden to make long Speeches on Pain of having their Tongues cut out; and indeed, their Constancy preached enow. Wherefore this was the last Word I heard from his Lips, for he seemed entirely addressing himself to another Friend whom we could neither hear nor see. And, when he got to the Place, I saw him put his Arms affectionately about the Stake and kiss it, (they all did that,) and then lay aside his poor Weaver's Garments, prison-worn and tattered, and put on what seemed indeed the white Robe of Immortality, and then stand firm while they put the Chain about his Waist. Just then a Man pushed rudely past me with a Fagot; and there was a Rush and a Press of New-comers that jostled me from my Place and wanted to feed their greedy Appetites with a good Man's Pain as if 'twere a mere Show. I pushed at them again, and struggled forward, amid Blows and reviling, and gat Sight of a Puff of Smoke, and a bright Flame leaping up. Just then, the Sun, breaking forth from a stormy Cloud, shone full upon his Face, which, looking upward with a joyous Smile, seemed transfigured by it. I could see no more ... mine Eyes were blinded, my Throat choked. I pushed my Way through the Crowd and went Home to pray for—myself, not for him!
I can give thee, Hew, no very connected Account of the Rest of that Season.... One Horror followed another—the Land was full of Blood, and Fire, and Vapour of Smoke. We went softly, and lived gloomy, and wretched, and desolate.
Sometimes I wished my Turn would come: then, dreaded it. Tomkins was continually before mine Eyes. At last, I suppose I altered so, that Master Hewet sent me down to my Mother, to keep quiet awhile in the Country.
Oh! what Happiness that was! The Tears we then shed together had Healing in them; and soon, away from all hateful Sounds and Sights, we gave over weeping altogether. My Mother, I found, had, in the first Instance, outwardly conformed; kissed Baal, in Fact; and then, like a good many other timid yet well-meaning Persons, found many Excuses to make for having so done, which yet failed to allay Self-disapprobation, and ended in Contrition and Resolutions of doing so no more. She was favourably placed for the keeping of such Resolves; having moved out of Ashford, to a remote Country-farm, too far from a Place of Worship for regular Attendance, wherefore she had set a-foot a little Church within her House, that was served, under the Rose, by a deprived Minister harbouring in the Neighbourhood. One of my younger Brothers, a goodly Lad, was at School; the other, a sickly Urchin, dwelt at Home, inactive but very happy.
So here I tarried, Thanks to good Master Hewet! till my Mind quite regained its Strength, as happy as a Rook on Sundays, as we say in Kent. The Change was so great, that my Absence seemed much longer than it really was. On my Return to London, as I rode along Kentstrete, my Heart seemed to fly forward to what, in Course of Years, had become my very Home. And, when we were all re-united beneath the same Roof, and I had fallen into my old Course, with very little Interference with the World without, I shortly began to be ware of a deep, new, inward Source of Happiness, that for a While I neither could nor would understand. Whatever I did, wherever I went, the very Air I breathed seemed to have a Glow, and Sweetness, and Freshness in it, whether my Errand led me through the Skinners' Yards in Budgerow, or the Butchers' Stalls in Eastchepe; 'twas all the same!—let the Stretes be ringing with Noises, there was a Song of Angels in my Head that made me deaf thereunto. And soon I was ware that this new Sweetness of Living, which was Serenity abroad, was Rapture at Home; and so all-satisfying was it, that I took no Care for the Morrow, nor aspired for Aught I had not, but only coveted to go on just as I was.
Master Hewet, about this Time, was full content with me, and reposed in me more and more Trust. Whereby I became aware that his Ventures were becoming more important, his Connexions more extended, his Credit higher, his Gains greater; and yet, withal, no Abatement of his old Rule of Simplicity and Plainness; unless with regard to Mistress Anne. No Money was in Sooth spared on her for Teaching or Dressing: her Chambers for Night and Day had, I believe, every Adornment that Money and Taste could procure: if her Ornaments were few, it was rather that she did not affect wearing many, than that there was Anything her Eye coveted that her Father would not buy for her. But she was one whom Indulgence could not spoil. Her Money, of which she had ample Allowance from an early Age, (it being one of Master Hewet's sage Maxims, that Children should be irresponsible Controulers of some regular Stipend, however small, to teach them Self-denial, Liberality, and Charity,) her Money, I say, was freely expended upon others, and employed in gratifying many an innocent Taste for Flowers, Birds, and such-like. Thus it fell, that I was now and then made Party to some little Mystery that gave me Pleasure she wist not she was bestowing, for I am persuaded she was at this Time living chiefly in a little Dream-land of her own, peopled with none but good Spirits and fair Prospects. It was, "Osborne, dost thou care to favour me so much as to step down to the Blanche Chapelton, and slip this into the Hand of the poor Basket-maker whose House was burned down last Night?"—or, Edward, I want to buy my Father an Inkstand I have seen in Lyme-strete; 'tis of rare Fancy, and, I think, a real Antique—a Hare in her Form, made of some glossy, brown Substance; and between the Hare's Ears is the Mouth of the Inkstand.—The Shop looks not like one I should care to enter, but 'tis over-against the Green-gate of Miguel Pistoy. Mind not the Price, but see thou tell not even Damaris."
Now, though Master Hewet so liberally supplied her Privy-purse, there were certain Household Expenses he made her reckon to a Penny; and, if she were at Fault, she had to make it good. 'Twas pretty, and diverting, to hear these two sometimes arguing together over their Account-book: for Mistress Anne was not a ready Reckoner, and he would by no Means be put off with a Quip. One Day, they were counting out their Money, when he said, "Ned, this young Gentlewoman can never attain to a competent Knowledge of Figures. I'll give thee a Couple of Angels to carry her on into Practice, for I shall save Money i' the End."
So when he is gone, I say, "Come, Mistress, the Bribe is very high ... where shall we begin? I suppose 'twill shame you to be put too far back."
"I hardly know what will be too far back," saith she, rogueing a little—"My Father sayeth I have done this wrong—" and she gives me a little Slip of Paper, inscribed with the neatest, prettiest little Figures.
"Good now!" said I, "the only Mistake herein is,—you have essayed to subtract the greater Number from the less; which you know can never be."
"Yes, it can be, sometimes," saith she, quickly.
"Never!" say I. "How?"
"Take V from IV and I remains!" quod she. So I laughed, and told her many a Spendthrift would like that Reckoning.
"Well," said I, "I suppose you desire not to begin with Enumeration."
"Since your Time is so valuable," sayth she, "you need not teach me at all."
"Nay, Mistress," say I, "count a Million if you will! I can tarry."
"How long will that take me?" quod she.
"Why," say I, "if you count a Hundred a Minute, that is, six Thousand in an Hour, and count at that Rate for fourteen Hours in the twenty-four, you may in twelve Days count a Million."
"Hold, hold!" cries she, "you will make me puzzle-headed for a week!" and so, runs off.
Next Time I saw her alone, I say, "Well, Mistress, are you in the Humour for Practice?"
"No," quoth she with Decision, "I know Figures already!" And commenced tinkling on her Virginals. So, there an End ... or might ha' been, were any Woman two Days o' the same Mind. But, shortly, she cometh to me with a Tear in her Eye.
"Ned," saith she, "what's to be done? I gave all the Money in my Purse (there wasn't much), to the Girdler's Widow, hard by St. Anne in the Willows; and now, I can't make up my Father's Accounts, and shall seem unto him a Defaulter."
"Or be one ... which?" quod I. "What is to do?"
"What can I do?" returns she.
"Marry," say I, "I can lend you the Money."
"Nay," quoth she quickly, "it would not be right in me to take it."
"You have Reason," say I. "It would not."
"Then what remaineth?" she said.
"Honesty afore Charity," I made Answer. "You must ask Master Hewet to deduct it from your next Quarterage, and henceforth give not away his Money when you have spent your own."
"He would never have grutched it!" cries she, kindling.
"Forsooth, then, all's said," quod I, and turned to go.
"Ned! stop," cries she, "how canst thou be so ill-natured?" and began to cry a little. "Why did you not, the other Day, as my Father bade you, put me on some better Method with my Accounts?"
"Why," said I, "I was about to try, when you started off like a young Deer from a Gad-fly."
"Well," saith she, "run this up for me, at all Events, and see if there be any Error in the Sum-total ... I shall be grateful to you either Way."
So I began,—"To Groceries, four-and-fourpence...."
"Four-and-fourpence!" cries she, "Four Pound four!"
"'Tis here plainly set down," say I, "as four-and-fourpence."
"Oh, charming!" cries she, "then all's straight!"
And, catching the Paper from mine Hand, she goes off with it, and I see no more of her nor her Accounts.
Only, about a Month after, Master Hewet says, "Well, Ned, I have not paid thee thy two Angels?"
"I have not earned them, Sir," I say, "Mistress Anne will none of my teaching."
"In Faith, then, she has schooled herself to some Purpose," saith he, smiling, "for she is ready enough now, both at Proportion and Practice. What a whimsical young Lass it is!"
In Fact she had, as about this Time, that Necessity for Application to practical Affairs which makes many Women good Reckoners whether they have a natural Turn for it or no. For Mistress Fraunces's Health failing her a little, Mistress Anne undertook the Conduct of the Household, which the other as readily yielded unto her, witting that the Pratique would do her good. So she went about, demurely, with the Keys, measuring this and weighing that, and setting down Everything in a little Book at her Girdle. 'Twas a Lesson, to see her Tendance, in all duteous Affectuousness, on good Mistress Fraunces, who indeed merited of her the Love of a Daughter, and whom she soon nursed well. Mistress Fraunces, always very softhearted, told me I should find she had not forgotten my Care of her, in her Will. Howbeit, I was thankful no Occasion came of opening it.
On my Birthday, Mistress Anne came to me smiling, with her Hands behind her, and said, "Which Hand will you have?"
I regarded her earnestly, and said, "The right Hand, Mistress."
"Oh, miserable Choice!" cried she, laughing, and throwing me a worn Glove of her own; "hadst thou said 'Left,' thou shouldest have had this brave new Pair of scented Gloves!"
I said, "I'm content," and took up the cast Glove with Pleasure.
"Well," sayth she, "you are too indifferent by half about your Blunder—howbeit, here they are for you; I bought them of Purpose."
So I bowed reverently and took them in my Hand; but, when she was gone, I put the other in my Bosom.
Another Time, I was arranging a Sunshade for Mistress Fraunces, in the blue-buckram Chamber, when Mistress Anne calleth me into the Balcony to look at some sunset Clouds, which she likened unto an Oliphant with a Princess on its Back, and to Armies and Fairy Palaces and such-like, till I told her if she span any more of her gold Cobwebs about me, I should be unable to leave the Balcony. Without heeding me, she giveth a great Sigh, and says, "There's one Thing I should like, that I know my Father would forbid. Pshaw, Ned! thou needs not look so surprise-stricken! 'tis but to have my Fortune told, by a real Fortune-teller."
"And so double your Sorrows and deaden your Pleasures, Mistress?" say I. "Ah, no, 'tis bad tampering with unlawful Quests."
And then I told her a Tale current in the Part of the Country I came from, of a Lady who would dabble in Things supernal; and how her Fore-knowledge, actual or phansied, bred in her such Impatience of her present Lot and Greediness for Things to come, as to lead her to poison her Husband. And how the Grass would ne'er grow over his Body, but left the exact Outline of it, Arms, Legs, Feet, Hands, traced out a-top of his Grave; as may be seen this Day: and how she, a likely and well-favoured Woman, finding herself viewed askance by all, albeit no Crime could be proven against her, did call on Heaven to make her as thin as a Willowwand if she had any hidden Guilt upon her Soul; and how from that self-same Day she peaked and pined, dwindled, and fell away, till there was no Substance, so to speak, in her; for a Child might ha' carried her, she was the Lightness of one of Mistress Anne's satin Slippers.
At the End of this Tale, Mistress Anne drew a deep Breath, and, saith she, "Ned, thou wert always a marvellous Recounter!—Tell me another Tale, as moving as the last." So I told her another and another; till the Stars began to come out; and a Singer in a Boat lying a little Way off began to sing—