CHAPTER XXXV
We are not worst at once--the course of evil Begins so slowly, and from such slight source, An infant's hand might stem its breach with clay; But let the stream get deeper, and philosophy-- Ay, and religion too--shall strive in vain To turn the headlong torrent. _Old Play._
The Templars had been regaled by our friend Richie Moniplies in aprivate chamber at Beaujeu's, where he might be considered as goodcompany; for he had exchanged his serving-man's cloak and jerkin fora grave yet handsome suit of clothes, in the fashion of the times, butsuch as might have befitted an older man than himself. He had positivelydeclined presenting himself at the ordinary, a point to which hiscompanions were very desirous to have brought him, for it will beeasily believed that such wags as Lowestoffe and his companion were notindisposed to a little merriment at the expense of the raw and pedanticScotsman; besides the chance of easing him of a few pieces, of whichhe appeared to have acquired considerable command. But not even asuccession of measures of sparkling sack, in which the little brilliantatoms circulated like motes in the sun's rays, had the least effecton Richie's sense of decorum. He retained the gravity of a judge, evenwhile he drank like a fish, partly from his own natural inclination togood liquor, partly in the way of good fellowship towards his guests.When the wine began to make some innovation on their heads, MasterLowestoffe, tired, perhaps, of the humours of Richie, who began tobecome yet more stoically contradictory and dogmatical than even in theearlier part of the entertainment, proposed to his friend to break uptheir debauch and join the gamesters.
The drawer was called accordingly, and Richie discharged the reckoningof the party, with a generous remuneration to the attendants, which wasreceived with cap and knee, and many assurances of--"Kindly welcome,gentlemen."
"I grieve we should part so soon, gentlemen," said Richie to hiscompanions,--"and I would you had cracked another quart ere you went, orstayed to take some slight matter of supper, and a glass of Rhenish. Ithank you, however, for having graced my poor collation thus far; andI commend you to fortune, in your own courses, for the ordinary neitherwas, is, nor shall be, an element of mine."
"Fare thee well, then," said Lowestoffe, "most sapient and sententiousMaster Moniplies. May you soon have another mortgage to redeem, and mayI be there to witness it; and may you play the good fellow, as heartilyas you have done this day."
"Nay, gentlemen, it is merely of your grace to say so--but, if youwould but hear me speak a few words of admonition respecting this wickedordinary--"
"Reserve the lesson, most honourable Richie," said Lowestoffe, "untilI have lost all my money," showing, at the same time, a purseindifferently well provided, "and then the lecture is likely to havesome weight."
"And keep my share of it, Richie," said the other Templar, showing analmost empty purse, in his turn, "till this be full again, and then Iwill promise to hear you with some patience."
"Ay, ay, gallants," said Richie, "the full and the empty gang a' aegate, and that is a grey one--but the time will come."
"Nay, it is come already," said Lowestoffe; "they have set out thehazard table. Since you will peremptorily not go with us, why, farewell,Richie."
"And farewell, gentlemen," said Richie, and left the house, into whichthey had returned.
Moniplies was not many steps from the door, when a person, whom, lostin his reflections on gaming, ordinaries, and the manners of the age,he had not observed, and who had been as negligent on his part, ranfull against him; and, when Richie desired to know whether he meant "onyincivility," replied by a curse on Scotland, and all that belonged toit. A less round reflection on his country would, at any time, haveprovoked Richie, but more especially when he had a double quart ofCanary and better in his pate. He was about to give a very rough answer,and to second his word by action, when a closer view of his antagonistchanged his purpose.
"You are the vera lad in the warld," said Richie, "whom I most wished tomeet."
"And you," answered the stranger, "or any of your beggarly countrymen,are the last sight I should ever wish to see. You Scots are ever fairand false, and an honest man cannot thrive within eyeshot of you."
"As to our poverty, friend," replied Richie, "that is as Heaven pleases;but touching our falset, I'll prove to you that a Scotsman bears as lealand true a heart to his friend as ever beat in English doublet."
"I care not whether he does or not," said the gallant. "Let me go--whykeep you hold of my cloak? Let me go, or I will thrust you into thekennel."
"I believe I could forgie ye, for you did me a good turn once, inplucking me out of it," said the Scot.
"Beshrew my fingers, then, if they did so," replied the stranger. "Iwould your whole country lay there, along with you; and Heaven's curseblight the hand that helped to raise them!--Why do you stop my way?" headded, fiercely.
"Because it is a bad one, Master Jenkin," said Richie. "Nay, never startabout it, man--you see you are known. Alack-a-day! that an honest man'sson should live to start at hearing himself called by his own name!"Jenkin struck his brow violently with his clenched fist.
"Come, come," said Richie, "this passion availeth nothing. Tell me whatgate go you?"
"To the devil!" answered Jin Vin.
"That is a black gate, if you speak according to the letter," answeredRichie; "but if metaphorically, there are worse places in this greatcity than the Devil Tavern; and I care not if I go thither with you, andbestow a pottle of burnt sack on you--it will correct the crudities ofmy stomach, and form a gentle preparative for the leg of a cold pullet."
"I pray you, in good fashion, to let me go," said Jenkin. "You may meanme kindly, and I wish you to have no wrong at my hand; but I am in thehumour to be dangerous to myself, or any one."
"I will abide the risk," said the Scot, "if you will but come with me;and here is a place convenient, a howff nearer than the Devil, whilkis but an ill-omened drouthy name for a tavern. This other of the SaintAndrew is a quiet place, where I have ta'en my whetter now andthen, when I lodged in the neighbourhood of the Temple with LordGlenvarloch.--What the deil's the matter wi' the man, garr'd him gie sica spang as that, and almaist brought himself and me on the causeway?"
"Do not name that false Scot's name to me," said Jin Vin, "if you wouldnot have me go mad!--I was happy before I saw him--he has been the causeof all the ill that has befallen me--he has made a knave and a madman ofme!"
"If you are a knave," said Richie, "you have met an officer--if you aredaft, you have met a keeper; but a gentle officer and a kind keeper.Look you, my gude friend, there has been twenty things said about thissame lord, in which there is no more truth than in the leasings ofMahound. The warst they can say of him is, that he is not always soamenable to good advice as I would pray him, you, and every young man tobe. Come wi' me--just come ye wi' me; and, if a little spell of sillerand a great deal of excellent counsel can relieve your occasions, allI can say is, you have had the luck to meet one capable of giving youboth, and maist willing to bestow them."
The pertinacity of the Scot prevailed over the sullenness of Vincent,who was indeed in a state of agitation and incapacity to think forhimself, which led him to yield the more readily to the suggestions ofanother. He suffered himself to be dragged into the small tavern whichRichie recommended, and where they soon found themselves seated in asnug niche, with a reeking pottle of burnt sack, and a paper of sugarbetwixt them. Pipes and tobacco were also provided, but were only usedby Richie, who had adopted the custom of late, as adding considerably tothe gravity and importance of his manner, and affording, as it were,a bland and pleasant accompaniment to the words of wisdom which flowedfrom his tongue. After they had filled their glasses and drank them insilence, Richie repeated the question, whither his guest was going whenthey met so fortunately.
"I told you," said Jenkin, "I was going to destruction--I mean to thegaming-house. I am resolved to hazard these two or three pieces, to getas much as will pay for a passage with Captain Sharker, whose ship lie
sat Gravesend, bound for America--and so Eastward, ho!--I met one devilin the way already, who would have tempted me from my purpose, but Ispurned him from me--you may be another for what I know.--What degreeof damnation do you propose for me," he added wildly, "and what is theprice of it?"
"I would have you to know," answered Richie, "that I deal in no suchcommodities, whether as buyer or seller. But if you will tell mehonestly the cause of your distress, I will do what is in my power tohelp you out of it,--not being, however, prodigal of promises, untilI know the case; as a learned physician only gives advice when he hasobserved the diagnostics."
"No one has any thing to do with my affairs," said the poor lad; andfolding his arms on the table, he laid his head upon them, with thesullen dejection of the overburdened lama, when it throws itself down todie in desperation.
Richard Moniplies, like most folk who have a good opinion of themselves,was fond of the task of consolation, which at once displayed hissuperiority, (for the consoler is necessarily, for the time at least,superior to the afflicted person,) and indulged his love of talking.He inflicted on the poor penitenta harangue of pitiless length, stuffedfull of the usual topics of the mutability of human affairs--the eminentadvantages of patience under affliction--the folly of grieving for whathath no remedy--the necessity of taking more care for the future, andsome gentle rebukes on account of the past, which acid he threw in toassist in subduing the patient's obstinacy, as Hannibal used vinegar incutting his way through rocks. It was not in human nature to endure thisflood of commonplace eloquence in silence; and Jin Vin, whether desirousof stopping the flow of words--crammed thus into his ear, "against thestomach of his sense," or whether confiding in Richie's protestationsof friendship, which the wretched, says Fielding, are ever so ready tobelieve, or whether merely to give his sorrows vent in words, raised hishead, and turning his red and swollen eyes to Richie--
"Cocksbones, man, only hold thy tongue, and thou shall know all aboutit,--and then all I ask of thee is to shake hands and part.--ThisMargaret Ramsay,--you have seen her, man?"
"Once," said Richie, "once, at Master George Heriot's in LombardStreet--I was in the room when they dined."
"Ay, you helped to shift their trenchers, I remember," said Jin Vin."Well, that same pretty girl--and I will uphold her the prettiestbetwixt Paul's and the Bar--she is to be wedded to your LordGlenvarloch, with a pestilence on him!"
"That is impossible," said Richie; "it is raving nonsense, man--theymake April gouks of you cockneys every month in the year--The LordGlenvarloch marry the daughter of a Lonnon mechanic! I would as soonbelieve the great Prester John would marry the daughter of a Jewpackman."
"Hark ye, brother," said Jin Vin, "I will allow no one to speakdisregardfully of the city, for all I am in trouble."
"I crave your pardon, man--I meant no offence," said Richie; "but as tothe marriage, it is a thing simply impossible."
"It is a thing that will take place, though, for the Duke and thePrince, and all of them, have a finger in it; and especially the oldfool of a king, that makes her out to be some great woman in her owncountry, as all the Scots pretend to be, you know."
"Master Vincent, but that you are under affliction," said the consoler,offended on his part, "I would hear no national reflections."
The afflicted youth apologised in his turns, but asserted, "it was truethat the king said Peg-a-Ramsay was some far-off sort of noblewoman; andthat he had taken a great interest in the match, and had run about likean old gander, cackling about Peggie ever since he had seen her in hoseand doublet--and no wonder," added poor Vin, with a deep sigh.
"This may be all true," said Richie, "though it sounds strange in myears; but, man, you should not speak evil of dignities---Curse not theking, Jenkin; not even in thy bed-chamber--stone walls have ears--no onehas a right to know better than I."
"I do not curse the foolish old man," said Jenkin; "but I would havethem carry things a peg lower.--If they were to see on a plain fieldthirty thousand such pikes as I have seen in the artillery gardens,it would not be their long-haired courtiers would help them, I trow."[Footnote: Clarendon remarks, that the importance of the militaryexercise of the citizens was severely felt by the cavaliers during thecivil war, notwithstanding the ridicule that had been showered upon itby the dramatic poets of the day. Nothing less than habitual practicecould, at the battle of Newbury and elsewhere, have enabled theLondoners to keep their ranks as pikemen, in spite of the repeatedcharge of the fiery Prince Rupert and his gallant cavaliers.]
"Hout tout, man," said Richie, "mind where the Stewarts come frae, andnever think they would want spears or claymores either; but leaving sicmatters, whilk are perilous to speak on, I say once more, what is yourconcern in all this matter?"
"What is it?" said Jenkin; "why, have I not fixed on Peg-a-Ramsay to bemy true love, from the day I came to her old father's shop? and have Inot carried her pattens and her chopines for three years, and borne herprayer-book to church, and brushed the cushion for her to kneel downupon, and did she ever say me nay?"
"I see no cause she had," said Richie, "if the like of such smallservices were all that ye proffered. Ah, man! there are few--very few,either of fools or of wise men, ken how to guide a woman."
"Why, did I not serve her at the risk of my freedom, and very nigh atthe risk of my neck? Did she not--no, it was not her neither, but thataccursed beldam whom she caused to work upon me--persuade me like a foolto turn myself into a waterman to help my lord, and a plague to him,down to Scotland? and instead of going peaceably down to the ship atGravesend, did not he rant and bully, and show his pistols, and makeme land him at Greenwich, where he played some swaggering pranks, thathelped both him and me into the Tower?"
"Aha!" said Richie, throwing more than his usual wisdom into his looks,"so you were the green-jacketed waterman that rowed Lord Glenvarlochdown the river?"
"The more fool I, that did not souse him in the Thames," said Jenkin;"and I was the lad who would not confess one word of who and what Iwas, though they threatened to make me hug the Duke of Exeter'sdaughter."[Footnote: A particular species of rack, used at the Tower ofLondon, was so called.]
"Wha is she, man?" said Richie; "she must be an ill-fashioned piece, ifyou're so much afraid of her, and she come of such high kin."
"I mean the rack--the rack, man," said Jenkin. "Where were you bredthat never heard of the Duke of Exeter's daughter? But all the dukes andduchesses in England could have got nothing out of me--so the truth cameout some other way, and I was set free.--Home I ran, thinking myselfone of the cleverest and happiest fellows in the ward. And she--she--shewanted to pay me with _money_ for all my true service! and she spoke sosweetly and so coldly at the same time, I wished myself in the deepestdungeon of the Tower--I wish they had racked me to death before I heardthis Scottishman was to chouse me out of my sweetheart!"
"But are ye sure ye have lost her?" said Richie; "it sounds strangein my ears that my Lord Glenvarloch should marry the daughter of adealer,--though there are uncouth marriages made in London, I'll allowthat."
"Why, I tell you this lord was no sooner clear of the Tower, than he andMaster George Heriot comes to make proposals for her, with the king'sassent, and what not; and fine fair-day prospects of Court favour forthis lord, for he hath not an acre of land."
"Well, and what said the auld watch-maker?" said Richie; "was he not, asmight weel beseem him, ready to loop out of his skin-case for very joy?"
"He multiplied six figures progressively, and reported the product--thengave his consent."
"And what did you do?"
"I rushed into the streets," said the poor lad, "with a burning heartand a blood-shot eye--and where did I first find myself, but with thatbeldam, Mother Suddlechop--and what did she propose to me, but to takethe road?"
"Take the road, man? in what sense?" said Richie.
"Even as a clerk to Saint Nicholas--as a highwayman, like Poins andPeto, and the good fellows in the play--and who think you was to be mycaptain?--for
she had the whole out ere I could speak to her--I fancyshe took silence for consent, and thought me damned too unutterablyto have one thought left that savoured of redemption--who was to be mycaptain, but the knave that you saw me cudgel at the ordinary when youwaited on Lord Glenvarloch, a cowardly, sharking, thievish bully abouttown here, whom they call Colepepper."
"Colepepper--umph--I know somewhat of that smaik," said Richie; "ken yeby ony chance where he may be heard of, Master Jenkin?--ye wad do me asincere service to tell me."
"Why, he lives something obscurely," answered the apprentice, "onaccount of suspicion of some villainy--I believe that horrid murder inWhitefriars, or some such matter. But I might have heard all about himfrom Dame Suddlechop, for she spoke of my meeting him at Enfield Chase,with some other good fellows, to do a robbery on one that goes northwardwith a store of treasure."
"And you did not agree to this fine project?" said Moniplies.
"I cursed her for a hag, and came away about my business," answeredJenkin.
"Ay, and what said she to that, man? That would startle her," saidRichie.
"Not a whit. She laughed, and said she was in jest," answered Jenkin;"but I know the she-devil's jest from her earnest too well to be takenin that way. But she knows I would never betray her.'
"Betray her! No," replied Richie; "but are ye in any shape bound to thisbirkie Peppercull, or Colepepper, or whatever they call him, that yesuld let him do a robbery on the honest gentleman that is travelling tothe north, and may be a kindly Scot, for what we know?"
"Ay--going home with a load of English money," said Jenkin. "But be hewho he will, they may rob the whole world an they list, for I am robbedand ruined."
Richie filled his friend's cup up to the brim, and insisted that heshould drink what he called "clean caup out." "This love," he said,"is but a bairnly matter for a brisk young fellow like yourself, MasterJenkin. And if ye must needs have a whimsy, though I think it would besafer to venture on a staid womanly body, why, here be as bonny lassesin London as this Peg-a-Ramsay. You need not sigh sae deeply, for it isvery true--there is as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it. Nowwherefore should you, who are as brisk and trig a young fellow of yourinches as the sun needs to shine on--wherefore need you sit moping thisway, and not try some bold way to better your fortune?"
"I tell you, Master Moniplies," said Jenkin, "I am as poor as anyScot among you--I have broke my indenture, and I think of running mycountry."
"A-well-a-day!" said Richie; "but that maunna be, man--I ken weel, bysad experience, that poortith takes away pith, and the man sits fullstill that has a rent in his breeks. [Footnote: This elegant speech wasmade by the Earl of Douglas, called Tineman after being wounded and madeprisoner at the battle of Shrewsbury, where
"His well labouring sword Had three times slain the semblance of the king,"]
But courage, man; you have served me heretofore, and I will serve younow. If you will but bring me to speech of this same captain, it will bethe best day's work you ever did."
"I guess where you are, Master Richard--you would save your countryman'slong purse," said Jenkin. "I cannot see how that should advantage me,but I reck not if I should bear a hand. I hate that braggart, thatbloody-minded, cowardly bully. If you can get me mounted I care not if Ishow you where the dame told me I should meet him--but you must standto the risk, for though he is a coward himself, I know he will have morethan one stout fellow with him."
"We'll have a warrant, man," said Richie, "and the hue and cry, toboot."
"We will have no such thing," said Jenkin, "if I am to go with you. Iam not the lad to betray any one to the harmanbeck. You must do it bymanhood if I am to go with you. I am sworn to cutter's law, and willsell no man's blood."
"Aweel," said Richie, "a wilful man must have his way; ye must thinkthat I was born and bred where cracked crowns were plentier than wholeones. Besides, I have two noble friends here, Master Lowestoffe of theTemple, and his cousin Master Ringwood, that will blithely be of sogallant a party."
"Lowestoffe and Ringwood!" said Jenkin; "they are both bravegallants--they will be sure company. Know you where they are to befound?"
"Ay, marry do I," replied Richie. "They are fast at the cards and dice,till the sma' hours, I warrant them."
"They are gentlemen of trust and honour," said Jenkin, "and, if theyadvise it, I will try the adventure. Go, try if you can bring themhither, since you have so much to say with, them. We must not be seenabroad together.--I know not how it is, Master Moniplies," continued he,as his countenance brightened up, and while, in his turn, he filled thecups, "but I feel my heart something lighter since I have thought ofthis matter."
"Thus it is to have counsellors, Master Jenkin," said Richie; "and trulyI hope to hear you say that your heart is as light as a lavrock's, andthat before you are many days aulder. Never smile and shake your head,but mind what I tell you--and bide here in the meanwhile, till I go toseek these gallants. I warrant you, cart-ropes would not hold them backfrom such a ploy as I shall propose to them."