The Colloquies of Edward Osborne, Citizen and Clothworker of London

  CHAPTER XII

  _A Snake among y? Flowers_

  I can give thee, _Hew_, no very connected Account of the Rest of thatSeason.... One Horror followed another—the Land was full of Blood, andFire, and Vapour of Smoke. We went softly, and lived gloomy, andwretched, and desolate.

  Sometimes I wished my Turn would come: then, dreaded it. _Tomkins_ wascontinually before mine Eyes. At last, I suppose I altered so, thatMaster _Hewet_ sent me down to my Mother, to keep quiet awhile in theCountry.

  Oh! what Happiness that was! The Tears we then shed together had Healingin them; and soon, away from all hateful Sounds and Sights, we gave overweeping altogether. My Mother, I found, had, in the first Instance,outwardly conformed; _kissed Baal_, in Fact; and then, like a good manyother timid yet well-meaning Persons, found many Excuses to make forhaving so done, which yet failed to allay Self-disapprobation, and endedin Contrition and Resolutions of doing so no more. She was favourablyplaced for the keeping of such Resolves; having moved out of _Ashford_,to a remote Country-farm, too far from a Place of Worship for regularAttendance, wherefore she had set a-foot a little Church within herHouse, that was served, under the Rose, by a deprived Ministerharbouring in the Neighbourhood. One of my younger Brothers, a goodlyLad, was at School; the other, a sickly Urchin, dwelt at Home, inactivebut very happy.

  So here I tarried, Thanks to good Master _Hewet_! till my Mind quiteregained 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 thanit 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 becomemy very Home. And, when we were all re-united beneath the same Roof, andI had fallen into my old Course, with very little Interference with theWorld without, I shortly began to be ware of a deep, new, inward Sourceof Happiness, that for a While I neither could nor would understand.Whatever I did, wherever I went, the very Air I breathed seemed to havea Glow, and Sweetness, and Freshness in it, whether my Errand led methrough the Skinners' Yards in _Budgerow_, or the Butchers' Stalls in_Eastchepe_; 'twas all the same!—let the Stretes be ringing withNoises, there was a Song of Angels in my Head that made me deafthereunto. And soon I was ware that this new Sweetness of Living, whichwas 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, butonly coveted to go on just as I was.

  Master _Hewet_, about this Time, was full content with me, and reposedin me more and more Trust. Whereby I became aware that his Ventures werebecoming more important, his Connexions more extended, his Credithigher, his Gains greater; and yet, withal, no Abatement of his old Ruleof Simplicity and Plainness; unless with regard to Mistress _Anne_. NoMoney was in Sooth spared on her for Teaching or Dressing: her Chambersfor Night and Day had, I believe, every Adornment that Money and Tastecould procure: if her Ornaments were few, it was rather that she did notaffect wearing many, than that there was Anything her Eye coveted thather Father would not buy for her. But she was one whom Indulgence couldnot spoil. Her Money, of which she had ample Allowance from an earlyAge, (it being one of Master _Hewet's_ sage Maxims, that Children shouldbe irresponsible Controulers of some regular Stipend, however small, toteach them Self-denial, Liberality, and Charity,) her Money, I say, wasfreely expended upon others, and employed in gratifying many an innocentTaste for Flowers, Birds, and such-like. Thus it fell, that I was nowand then made Party to some little Mystery that gave me Pleasure shewist not she was bestowing, for I am persuaded she was at this Timeliving chiefly in a little Dream-land of her own, peopled with none butgood Spirits and fair Prospects. It was, "_Osborne_, dost thou care tofavour me so much as to step down to the _Blanche Chapelton_, and slipthis into the Hand of the poor Basket-maker whose House was burned downlast Night?"—or, _Edward_, I want to buy my Father an Inkstand I haveseen in _Lyme-strete_; 'tis of rare Fancy, and, I think, a realAntique—a Hare in her Form, made of some glossy, brown Substance; andbetween the Hare's Ears is the Mouth of the Inkstand.—The Shop looksnot like one I should care to enter, but 'tis over-against theGreen-gate of _Miguel_ _Pistoy_. Mind not the Price, but see thou tellnot even _Damaris_."

  Now, though Master _Hewet_ so liberally supplied her Privy-purse, therewere certain Household Expenses he made her reckon to a Penny; and, ifshe 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 Meansbe put off with a Quip. One Day, they were counting out their Money,when he said, "_Ned_, this young Gentlewoman can never attain to acompetent Knowledge of Figures. I'll give thee a Couple of Angels tocarry 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 alittle—"My Father sayeth I have done this wrong—" and she gives me alittle Slip of Paper, inscribed with the neatest, prettiest littleFigures.

  "Good now!" said I, "the only Mistake herein is,—you have essayed tosubtract 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 hermany 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 atall."

  "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 inan 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 Humourfor Practice?"

  "No," quoth she with Decision, "I know Figures already!" And commencedtinkling on her Virginals. So, there an End ... or might ha' been, wereany Woman two Days o' the same Mind. But, shortly, she cometh to me witha 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 theWillows; and now, I can't make up my Father's Accounts, and shall seemunto 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_ todeduct it from your next Quarterage, and henceforth give not away hisMoney 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?" andbegan to cry a little. "Why did you not, the other Day, as my Fatherbade you, put me on some better Method with my Accounts?"

  "Why," said I, "I was about to try, when you started off like a youngDeer from a Gad-fly."

  "Well," saith she, "run this up for me, at all Events, and see if therebe any Error in the Sum-total ... I shall be grateful to you eitherWay."

  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
seeno more of her nor her Accounts.

  Only, about a Month after, Master _Hewet_ says, "Well, _Ned_, I have notpaid thee thy two Angels?"

  "I have not earned them, Sir," I say, "Mistress _Anne_ will none of myteaching."

  "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 topractical Affairs which makes many Women good Reckoners whether theyhave a natural Turn for it or no. For Mistress _Fraunces's_ Healthfailing her a little, Mistress _Anne_ undertook the Conduct of theHousehold, which the other as readily yielded unto her, witting that thePratique would do her good. So she went about, demurely, with the Keys,measuring this and weighing that, and setting down Everything in alittle Book at her Girdle. 'Twas a Lesson, to see her Tendance, in allduteous Affectuousness, on good Mistress _Fraunces_, who indeed meritedof her the Love of a Daughter, and whom she soon nursed well. Mistress_Fraunces_, always very softhearted, told me I should find she had notforgotten my Care of her, in her Will. Howbeit, I was thankful noOccasion came of opening it.

  On my Birthday, Mistress _Anne_ came to me smiling, with her Handsbehind 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 wornGlove of her own; "hadst thou said 'Left,' thou shouldest have had thisbrave 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 yourBlunder—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 theblue-buckram Chamber, when Mistress _Anne_ calleth me into the Balconyto look at some sunset Clouds, which she likened unto an Oliphant with aPrincess on its Back, and to Armies and Fairy Palaces and such-like, tillI told her if she span any more of her gold Cobwebs about me, I should beunable 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 wouldforbid. Pshaw, _Ned!_ thou needs not look so surprise-stricken! 'tis butto 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 camefrom, of a Lady who would dabble in Things supernal; and how herFore-knowledge, actual or phansied, bred in her such Impatience of herpresent Lot and Greediness for Things to come, as to lead her to poisonher Husband. And how the Grass would ne'er grow over his Body, but leftthe exact Outline of it, Arms, Legs, Feet, Hands, traced out a-top ofhis Grave; as may be seen this Day: and how she, a likely andwell-favoured Woman, finding herself viewed askance by all, albeit noCrime could be proven against her, did call on Heaven to make her asthin as a Willowwand if she had any hidden Guilt upon her Soul; and howfrom 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_ satinSlippers.

  At the End of this Tale, Mistress _Anne_ drew a deep Breath, and, saithshe, "_Ned_, thou wert always a marvellous Recounter!—Tell me anotherTale, as moving as the last." So I told her another and another; tillthe Stars began to come out; and a Singer in a Boat lying a little Wayoff began to sing—

  "_What though thine Eyes be like the Sun That lights up all he looks upon_—"

  "Whose can those be?" quod she. "Aye! whose, indeed?" said I. But Ithought I knew.—Thus, in honeyed Sweetness, lapsed Day after Day.

  But it came to an End. I found at last, whether I would shut mine Eyesor no, whether I would give Ear or feign Dullness, that I was seeing,hearing Nothing but Mistress _Anne_. At first, I would not attend tothis; then said (in _Answer_ to Something,) "What Harm?" But yetSomething answered back again, There _is_ Harm. Then quod I, To whom?There is none, nor never shall be to any save myself, and the only Harmto me is the Pain; and if the Pain is a Pleasure, or I choose to bear itand count it as such, where's the Harm and where's the Wrong?

  But the Pleasure was gone. At least, there was so much Pain overlyingit, that it was crushed down and smothered, and struggling to get freeof its Burthen. Then I asked myself what this was about, and whithercould it tend, and what had I lost that I had had before, that made meseem a different _Ned Osborne_? Also, why did I bring Shame on myselfand bring Master _Hewet's_ keen Observance on me by such and such aBlunder in my daily Charge? Was his Eye altering towards me? Would itnot needs alter, did he wit the foolish, impossible Things I spent thebest (the _worst_) of my Time in dreaming of? Oh! my Heart would notbear it! There was Something eating its Way into my Soul, as a Weevilgnaws its Way into a Garner.

  —No, this could not go on. I thought over it and took my Part; andafter watching and letting slip many Opportunities, I at length, inDesperation, took the very first that came next, and stood beside Master_Hewet_ at his Desk when I wist that no Other was or would soon bewithin Earshot; and said, "Master, I must go."

  "Whither, Lad?" quod he, surprised, yet kindly,—"On some Errand ofthine own about the Town?"

  I tried to get back my Voice, it faltered so!—and said, "Away ... awayfrom here."

  "Art ill?" quod he, laying down his Pen, and suddenly looking full atme. "Dost thou want to go for a While into the Country?"

  "No," I said, "I must go seek another Service."

  "Another Service?" repeated he, with a yet more piercing Look.—"This isstrange ... and sudden. We thought you were so happy."

  "I was," said I. "Only—"

  "Only what?" And he waited: but I spake never a Word mo'.

  "I see how it is!" cried he, suddenly growing red, "Master _Groggett_hath tempted thee away from me, with Promise of higher Salary. PitifulFellow! I wot he hath long envied me a faithful Servant. 'Tis againstour Company's Ordinance, to tempt a Man from his Master! Go, however,since thou wilt, ungrateful Youth!—thy Fidelity hath been undermined;thou hast never apprized our Kindness, hast never loved us!"

  This unloosed my Tongue, and I said, "I have felt, if I have notdeserved your Kindness, Master _Hewet_. No one hath tempted, nor couldtempt me away, and I but seek to go for that I love you e'en too well."

  "How can you love us too well?" quod he distrustfully.

  —"_One_ of you," I said, faltering.

  "_Anne_?" cried he. And saw it in my Face.

  —"Well, Lad," quod he, softer, "no Need to blush scarlet nor weep,where no Shame lieth. _That_ would be in _not_ loving her, I think. Youmay love too much, you can't love too well."

  "Too well for my Peace," quod I, turning my Head away—"You had betterlet me go."

  "Well, I think not," quod he, after a Pause of some Length. "Go to what?To another House, where Everything will be worse for thee, save that_Anne_ will be not only out of Reach but out of Sight. You must perforceconquer yourself _then_, you know. Try to conquer yourself _now_."

  "I don't think I can," I said; so huskily, that he made me repeat ittwice.

  "You meant to try, I suppose," quod he, "when you spake of going away."

  "Yes, Master."

  "Well, try here:—for a little While, that I may think where to placeyou. _Ned!_—I have had some Trial of thee; I have tested thee, and Ihave trusted thee. Don't betray my Trust in this Matter."

  I said, "I will not."

  "And do thou," quod he, with all his old Kindness, "trust in me. I shalldo what, on Deliberation, I think best for you. And stay thyself withthis Reflection: that if thou wert the first Noble in the Land, sueingfor my Daughter, I would not, in these her so early Days, give her tothee. Keep a brave, honest Heart, and take Things quietly. You hav
e notbeen such a Knave as to speak to her?"

  "No, Master."

  "Your Word is enough," quod he, and left me. I put my Head down on mineArms and shed hot Tears that had no Relief in them. Just then, I felt akind Hand laid with strong emphatic Pressure on my Shoulder. I kissedit, in Sign of Reverence and Good-faith: he understood it for such, andleft me without a Word. And I went on mine Affairs with a lightenedHeart.