CHAPTER XIX.
PISTOL. And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys, And happy news of price. FALSTAFF. I prithee now deliver them like to men of this world. PISTOL. A foutra for the world, and worldlings base! I speak of Africa, and golden joys. --HENRY IV. PART II.
The public room of the Black Bear at Cumnor, to which the scene ofour story now returns, boasted, on the evening which we treat of,no ordinary assemblage of guests. There had been a fair in theneighbourhood, and the cutting mercer of Abingdon, with some of theother personages whom the reader has already been made acquainted with,as friends and customers of Giles Gosling, had already formed theirwonted circle around the evening fire, and were talking over the news ofthe day.
A lively, bustling, arch fellow, whose pack, and oaken ellwand studdedduly with brass points, denoted him to be of Autolycus's profession,occupied a good deal of the attention, and furnished much of theamusement, of the evening. The pedlars of those days, it must beremembered, were men of far greater importance than the degenerateand degraded hawkers of our modern times. It was by means of theseperipatetic venders that the country trade, in the finer manufacturesused in female dress particularly, was almost entirely carried on; andif a merchant of this description arrived at the dignity of travellingwith a pack-horse, he was a person of no small consequence, and companyfor the most substantial yeoman or franklin whom he might meet in hiswanderings.
The pedlar of whom we speak bore, accordingly, an active and unrebukedshare in the merriment to which the rafters of the bonny Black Bearof Cumnor resounded. He had his smile with pretty Mistress Cicely, hisbroad laugh with mine host, and his jest upon dashing Master Goldthred,who, though indeed without any such benevolent intention on his ownpart, was the general butt of the evening. The pedlar and he wereclosely engaged in a dispute upon the preference due to the Spanishnether-stock over the black Gascoigne hose, and mine host had justwinked to the guests around him, as who should say, "You will have mirthpresently, my masters," when the trampling of horses was heard in thecourtyard, and the hostler was loudly summoned, with a few of the newestoaths then in vogue to add force to the invocation. Out tumbled WillHostler, John Tapster, and all the militia of the inn, who had slunkfrom their posts in order to collect some scattered crumbs of the mirthwhich was flying about among the customers. Out into the yard salliedmine host himself also, to do fitting salutation to his new guests; andpresently returned, ushering into the apartment his own worthy nephew,Michael Lambourne, pretty tolerably drunk, and having under his escortthe astrologer. Alasco, though still a little old man, had, by alteringhis gown to a riding-dress, trimming his beard and eyebrows, and soforth, struck at least a score of years from his apparent age, andmight now seem an active man of sixty, or little upwards. He appeared atpresent exceedingly anxious, and had insisted much with Lambourne thatthey should not enter the inn, but go straight forward to the place oftheir destination. But Lambourne would not be controlled. "By Cancer andCapricorn," he vociferated, "and the whole heavenly host, besides allthe stars that these blessed eyes of mine have seen sparkle in thesouthern heavens, to which these northern blinkers are but farthingcandles, I will be unkindly for no one's humour--I will stay and salutemy worthy uncle here. Chesu! that good blood should ever be forgottenbetwixt friends!--A gallon of your best, uncle, and let it go round tothe health of the noble Earl of Leicester! What! shall we not colloguetogether, and warm the cockles of our ancient kindness?--shall we notcollogue, I say?"
"With all my heart, kinsman," said mine host, who obviously wished to berid of him; "but are you to stand shot to all this good liquor?"
This is a question has quelled many a jovial toper, but it moved notthe purpose of Lambourne's soul, "Question my means, nuncle?" he said,producing a handful of mixed gold and silver pieces; "question Mexicoand Peru--question the Queen's exchequer--God save her Majesty!--she ismy good Lord's good mistress."
"Well, kinsman," said mine host, "it is my business to sell wine tothose who can buy it--so, Jack Tapster, do me thine office. But I wouldI knew how to come by money as lightly as thou dost, Mike."
"Why, uncle," said Lambourne, "I will tell thee a secret. Dost see thislittle old fellow here? as old and withered a chip as ever the devil putinto his porridge--and yet, uncle, between you and me--he hath Potosiin that brain of his--'sblood! he can coin ducats faster than I can ventoaths."
"I will have none of his coinage in my purse, though, Michael," saidmine host; "I know what belongs to falsifying the Queen's coin."
"Thou art an ass, uncle, for as old as thou art.--Pull me not by theskirts, doctor, thou art an ass thyself to boot--so, being both asses, Itell ye I spoke but metaphorically."
"Are you mad?" said the old man; "is the devil in you? Can you not letus begone without drawing all men's eyes on us?"
"Sayest thou?" said Lambourne. "Thou art deceived now--no man shall seeyou, an I give the word.--By heavens, masters, an any one dare to lookon this old gentleman, I will slash the eyes out of his head withmy poniard!--So sit down, old friend, and be merry; these are mineingles--mine ancient inmates, and will betray no man."
"Had you not better withdraw to a private apartment, nephew?" saidGiles Gosling. "You speak strange matter," he added, "and there beintelligencers everywhere."
"I care not for them," said the magnanimous Michael--"intelligencers?pshaw! I serve the noble Earl of Leicester.--Here comes the wine.--Fillround, Master Skinker, a carouse to the health of the flower of England,the noble Earl of Leicester! I say, the noble Earl of Leicester! He thatdoes me not reason is a swine of Sussex, and I'll make him kneel to thepledge, if I should cut his hams and smoke them for bacon."
None disputed a pledge given under such formidable penalties; andMichael Lambourne, whose drunken humour was not of course diminishedby this new potation, went on in the same wild way, renewing hisacquaintance with such of the guests as he had formerly known, andexperiencing a reception in which there was now something of deferencemingled with a good deal of fear; for the least servitor of thefavourite Earl, especially such a man as Lambourne, was, for verysufficient reasons, an object both of the one and of the other.
In the meanwhile, the old man, seeing his guide in this uncontrollablehumour, ceased to remonstrate with him, and sitting down in the mostobscure corner of the room, called for a small measure of sack, overwhich he seemed, as it were, to slumber, withdrawing himself as much aspossible from general observation, and doing nothing which could recallhis existence to the recollection of his fellow-traveller, who by thistime had got into close intimacy with his ancient comrade, Goldthred ofAbingdon.
"Never believe me, bully Mike," said the mercer, "if I am not as glad tosee thee as ever I was to see a customer's money! Why, thou canst givea friend a sly place at a mask or a revel now, Mike; ay, or, I warrantthee, thou canst say in my lord's ear, when my honourable lord is downin these parts, and wants a Spanish ruff or the like--thou canst say inhis ear, There is mine old friend, young Lawrence Goldthred of Abingdon,has as good wares, lawn, tiffany, cambric, and so forth--ay, and is aspretty a piece of man's flesh, too, as is in Berkshire, and will ruffleit for your lordship with any man of his inches; and thou mayest say--"
"I can say a hundred d--d lies besides, mercer," answered Lambourne;"what, one must not stand upon a good word for a friend!"
"Here is to thee, Mike, with all my heart," said the mercer; "and thoucanst tell one the reality of the new fashions too. Here was a roguepedlar but now was crying up the old-fashioned Spanish nether-stock overthe Gascoigne hose, although thou seest how well the French hose setoff the leg and knee, being adorned with parti-coloured garters andgarniture in conformity."
"Excellent, excellent," replied Lambourne; "why, thy limber bit of athigh, thrust through that bunch of slashed buckram and tiffany, showslike a housewife's distaff when the flax is half spun off!"
"Said I not so?" said the mercer, whose shallow brain was now overflowedin his turn; "where, then, where be this rascal pedlar?--the
re was apedlar here but now, methinks.--Mine host, where the foul fiend is thispedlar?"
"Where wise men should be, Master Goldthred," replied Giles Gosling;"even shut up in his private chamber, telling over the sales of to-day,and preparing for the custom of to-morrow."
"Hang him, a mechanical chuff!" said the mercer; "but for shame, itwere a good deed to ease him of his wares--a set of peddling knaves, whostroll through the land, and hurt the established trader. There are goodfellows in Berkshire yet, mine host--your pedlar may be met withal onMaiden Castle."
"Ay," replied mine host, laughing, "and he who meets him may meet hismatch--the pedlar is a tall man."
"Is he?" said Goldthred.
"Is he?" replied the host; "ay, by cock and pie is he--the very pedlarhe who raddled Robin Hood so tightly, as the song says,--
'Now Robin Hood drew his sword so good, The pedlar drew his brand, And he hath raddled him, Robin Hood, Till he neither could see nor stand.'"
"Hang him, foul scroyle, let him pass," said the mercer; "if he be sucha one, there were small worship to be won upon him.--And now tell me,Mike--my honest Mike, how wears the Hollands you won of me?"
"Why, well, as you may see, Master Goldthred," answered Mike; "I willbestow a pot on thee for the handsel.--Fill the flagon, Master Tapster."
"Thou wilt win no more Hollands, think, on such wager, friend Mike,"said the mercer; "for the sulky swain, Tony Foster, rails at thee all tonought, and swears you shall ne'er darken his doors again, for that youroaths are enough to blow the roof off a Christian man's dwelling."
"Doth he say so, the mincing, hypocritical miser?" vociferatedLambourne. "Why, then, he shall come down and receive my commands here,this blessed night, under my uncle's roof! And I will ring him such ablack sanctus, that he shall think the devil hath him by the skirts fora month to come, for barely hearing me."
"Nay, now the pottle-pot is uppermost, with a witness!" said the mercer."Tony Foster obey thy whistle! Alas! good Mike, go sleep--go sleep."
"I tell thee what, thou thin-faced gull," said Michael Lambourne, inhigh chafe, "I will wager thee fifty angels against the first fiveshelves of thy shop, numbering upward from the false light, with allthat is on them, that I make Tony Foster come down to this public-housebefore we have finished three rounds."
"I will lay no bet to that amount," said the mercer, somethingsobered by an offer which intimated rather too private a knowledge onLambourne's part of the secret recesses of his shop. "I will lay no suchwager," he said; "but I will stake five angels against thy five, if thouwilt, that Tony Foster will not leave his own roof, or come to ale-houseafter prayer time, for thee, or any man."
"Content," said Lambourne.--"Here, uncle, hold stakes, and let oneof your young bleed-barrels there--one of your infant tapsters--trippresently up to The Place, and give this letter to Master Foster, andsay that I, his ingle, Michael Lambourne, pray to speak with him at mineuncle's castle here, upon business of grave import.--Away with thee,child, for it is now sundown, and the wretch goeth to bed with the birdsto save mutton-suet--faugh!"
Shortly after this messenger was dispatched--an interval which was spentin drinking and buffoonery--he returned with the answer that MasterFoster was coming presently.
"Won, won!" said Lambourne, darting on the stakes.
"Not till he comes, if you please," said the mercer, interfering.
"Why, 'sblood, he is at the threshold," replied Michael.--"What said he,boy?"
"If it please your worship," answered the messenger, "he looked out ofwindow, with a musquetoon in his hand, and when I delivered your errand,which I did with fear and trembling, he said, with a vinegar aspect,that your worship might be gone to the infernal regions."
"Or to hell, I suppose," said Lambourne--"it is there he disposes of allthat are not of the congregation."
"Even so," said the boy; "I used the other phrase as being the morepoetical."
"An ingenious youth," said Michael; "shalt have a drop to whet thypoetical whistle. And what said Foster next?"
"He called me back," answered the boy, "and bid me say you might come tohim if you had aught to say to him."
"And what next?" said Lambourne.
"He read the letter, and seemed in a fluster, and asked if your worshipwas in drink; and I said you were speaking a little Spanish, as one whohad been in the Canaries."
"Out, you diminutive pint-pot, whelped of an overgrown reckoning!"replied Lambourne--"out! But what said he then?"
"Why," said the boy, "he muttered that if he came not your worship wouldbolt out what were better kept in; and so he took his old flat cap,and threadbare blue cloak, and, as I said before, he will be hereincontinent."
"There is truth in what he said," replied Lambourne, as if speaking tohimself--"my brain has played me its old dog's trick. But corragio--lethim approach!--I have not rolled about in the world for many a day tofear Tony Foster, be I drunk or sober.--Bring me a flagon of cold waterto christen my sack withal."
While Lambourne, whom the approach of Foster seemed to have recalled toa sense of his own condition, was busied in preparing to receive him,Giles Gosling stole up to the apartment of the pedlar, whom he foundtraversing the room in much agitation.
"You withdrew yourself suddenly from the company," said the landlord tothe guest.
"It was time, when the devil became one among you," replied the pedlar.
"It is not courteous in you to term my nephew by such a name," saidGosling, "nor is it kindly in me to reply to it; and yet, in some sort,Mike may be considered as a limb of Satan."
"Pooh--I talk not of the swaggering ruffian," replied the pedlar; "it isof the other, who, for aught I know--But when go they? or wherefore comethey?"
"Marry, these are questions I cannot answer," replied the host."But look you, sir, you have brought me a token from worthy MasterTressilian--a pretty stone it is." He took out the ring, and looked atit, adding, as he put it into his purse again, that it was too rich aguerdon for anything he could do for the worthy donor. He was, he said,in the public line, and it ill became him to be too inquisitive intoother folk's concerns. He had already said that he could hear nothingbut that the lady lived still at Cumnor Place in the closest seclusion,and, to such as by chance had a view of her, seemed pensive anddiscontented with her solitude. "But here," he said, "if you aredesirous to gratify your master, is the rarest chance that hath occurredfor this many a day. Tony Foster is coming down hither, and it is butletting Mike Lambourne smell another wine-flask, and the Queen's commandwould not move him from the ale-bench. So they are fast for an hour orso. Now, if you will don your pack, which will be your best excuse, youmay, perchance, win the ear of the old servant, being assured of themaster's absence, to let you try to get some custom of the lady; andthen you may learn more of her condition than I or any other can tellyou."
"True--very true," answered Wayland, for he it was; "an excellentdevice, but methinks something dangerous--for, say Foster shouldreturn?"
"Very possible indeed," replied the host.
"Or say," continued Wayland, "the lady should render me cold thanks formy exertions?"
"As is not unlikely," replied Giles Gosling. "I marvel Master Tressilianwill take such heed of her that cares not for him."
"In either case I were foully sped," said Wayland, "and therefore I donot, on the whole, much relish your device."
"Nay, but take me with you, good master serving-man," replied mine host."This is your master's business, and not mine, you best know the risk tobe encountered, or how far you are willing to brave it. But that whichyou will not yourself hazard, you cannot expect others to risk."
"Hold, hold," said Wayland; "tell me but one thing--goes yonder old manup to Cumnor?"
"Surely, I think so?" said the landlord; "their servant said he was totake their baggage thither. But the ale-tap has been as potent for himas the sack-spigot has been for Michael."
"It is enough," said Wayland, assuming an air of resolution. "I willthw
art that old villain's projects; my affright at his baleful aspectbegins to abate, and my hatred to arise. Help me on with my pack, goodmine host.--And look to thyself, old Albumazar; there is a malignantinfluence in thy horoscope, and it gleams from the constellation UrsaMajor."
So saying, he assumed his burden, and, guided by the landlord throughthe postern gate of the Black Bear, took the most private way fromthence up to Cumnor Place.