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THE IMPUDENT COMEDIAN & OTHERS
By Frank Frankfort Moore
Herbert S. Stone & Co
1896
THE IMPUDENT COMEDIAN
"Nelly--Nelly--Nell! Now, where's the wench?" cried Mrs. Gwyn, beforeshe had more than passed the threshold of her daughter's house in St.James's Park--the house with the terrace garden, where, as the sedateEvelyn records, the charming Nelly had stood exchanging some very livelyphrases with her royal lover on the green walk below, giving the gravegentleman cause to grieve greatly. But, alas! the record of his sorrowhas only made his untold readers mad that they had not been present togrieve, also, over that entrancing tableau. "Nelly--Nell! Where'syour mistress, sirrah?" continued the somewhat portly and undoubtedlyoverdressed mother of the "impudent comedian," referred to by Evelyn,turning to a man-servant who wore the scarlet livery of the king.
"Where should she be, madam, at this hour, unless in the hands of hertirewomen? It is but an hour past noon."
"You lie, knave! She is at hand," cried the lady, as the musical lilt ofa song sounded on the landing above the dozen shallow oak stairs leadingout of the square hall, and a couple of fat spaniels, at the sound,lazily left their place on a cushion, and waddled towards the stairs tomeet and greet their mistress.
She appeared in the lobby, and stood for a moment or two looking out ofa window that commanded a fine view of the trees outside--they were inblossom right down to the wall. She made a lovely picture, with one handshading her eyes from the sunlight that entered through the small squarepanes, singing all the time in pure lightness of heart. She wore herbrown hair in the short ringlets of the period, and they danced on eachside of her face as if they were knowing little sprites for whose earsher singing was meant.
"Wench!" shouted her mother from below. The sprites that danced to themusic of the mother's voice were of a heavier order altogether.
"What, mother? I scarce knew that you were journeying hither to-day,"cried Nelly, coming down the stairs. "'T is an honour, and a surpriseas well; and, i' faith, now that I come to think on't, the surprise isa deal greater than the honour. If you say you have n't come hither formore money, my surprise will be unbounded."
It was nothing to Nelly that she spoke loud enough to be heard by thefootmen in the hall, as well as by the servants in the kitchen. She knewthat they knew all about her, and all about her mother as well. Perhapssome of them had bought oranges from her or her mother in the old daysat Drury Lane, before she had become distinguished as an actress, and inother ways.
"I 'm not come for money, though a trifle would be welcome," said themother, when Nelly had shown her the way into one of the rooms openingoff a corridor at one side of the hall--a large apartment, furnishedwith ludicrous incongruity. A lovely settee, made by the greatest artistin France, and upholstered in bright tapestry, was flanked by a coupleof hideous chairs made by the stage carpenter of Drury Lane, and by himpresented to Nelly. A pair of Sevres vases, which had for some yearsbeen in St. James's Palace stood on a side-board among some rubbish ofporcelain that Nelly had picked up in the purlieus of Westminster.
The mother was about to seat herself heavily on the gilded settee, whenNelly gave a little scream, startling the elder lady so that she, too,screamed--a little hoarsely--in sympathy.
"What's the matter, girl--what's the matter?" she cried.
"Nothing is the matter, so far, mother, but a mighty deal would havebeen the matter, if you had seated yourself other where than in thatchair.'Snails, madam, who are you that you should plump your person downon a seat that was made for a legitimate monarch?"
"I'm a legitimate wife, hear you that, you perky wench?" cried themother, craning her neck forward after the most approved fashion ofpending belligerents at Lewkinor Street, Drury Lane.
"The greater reason you should avoid that settee, dear mother; it hasnever been other than the chattel of a prince," laughed Nelly. "And now,prithee, why the honour of this visit, while the month is not yet nearits close?"
"I have met with an old friend of yours, this day, Nell," said themother, "and he is coming hither,--'t is that hath brought me."
"An old friend! I' faith, good mother, 't is the young friends are moreto my taste. The savour of Lewkinor Street doth not smell sweet, and itclings most foully to all our old friends."
"Oh, ay, but you once was n't so dainty a madam!"
"'T were vain to deny it, mother, since it can be urged against me thatI became your daughter. No, no, good mother, friend me no old friends--Ilike them new--the newer the better--plenty of gilding--none of itrubbed off--gingerbread and courtiers--plenty of gilding, and plentyof spice beneath. But the old life in Lewkinor Street--in thecoal-yard--ah!'t was like to sour oranges, mother, thick skin above, andsourness under. 'Snails! it doth set my teeth on edge to think of it."
"Oh, ay; but now and again we lighted upon a Levant orange in the midstof a basketful--a sweet one to suck, and one to leave a sweet tastebehind it."
"The best were mightily improved by the addition of a lump of sugar.But what hath all this vegetable philosophy to do with your visit tome to-day? If you mean to stay, I'll send out for a couple of stone ofsugar without delay!"
"Philosophy, Madame Impudence! You accuse your mother of philosophy,when everyone knows that your own language was--"
"Worthy of a lady of quality, mother. It seemeth that you are anxious tohear whether or not I retain anything of my old skill in that direction,and by my faith, dear mother, you shall learn more than will satisfyyour curiosity, if you beat about the bush much longer. Whom say youthat you met to-day?"
"What should you say if I told you that his name was Dick Harraden?"
"What, Dick! Dick!--Dick Harraden!"
Nell had sprung to her feet, and had grasped her mother by the shoulder,eagerly peering into her face. After a moment of silence following herexclamation, she gave her mother a little push, in the act of takingher hand off her shoulder, and threw herself back in her own chairagain with a laugh--a laugh that surrounded a sigh, as a bright nimbussurrounds the sad face of a saint in a picture.
"What should I say, do you ask me?" she cried. "Well, I should saythat you were a liar, good mother." Nell was never particular in herlanguage. As an exponent of the reaction against the Puritanism of theprevious generation, she was admitted by very competent judges to havescarcely an equal.
"I'm no liar," said the mother. "'T was Dick himself I met, face toface."
"It puzzles me to see wherein lies your hope of getting money from me bytelling me such a tale," said Nell.
"I want not your money--at least not till the end of the month, orthereabouts. I tell you, I saw Dick within the hour."
"'T was his ghost. You know that when he threw away his link he took tothe sea, and was drowned in a storm off the Grand Canary. What did theseafaring man tell us when I asked him if he had seen Dick?"
"A maudlin knave, who offered you a guinea for a kiss at the pit doorof Drury Lane, and then bought a basket of oranges and gave them awaysingly to all comers."
"But he said he had sailed in the same ship as Dick, and that it hadgone down with all aboard save only himself."
"Oh, ay; and he wept plentifully when he saw how you wept--ay, andoffered to be your sweetheart in the stead of poor Dick, the knave! ForI saw Dick with these eyes, within the hour."
"Oh, mother--and you told him--no, you durs n't tell him--"
"He had just this morning come to London from the Indies, and it wasluck--ill-luck, maybe--that made him run against me. He plied me withquestion after question--all about Nell--his Nell, he called you, if youplease.
"
"His Nell--ah, mother! his Nell! Well, you told him--"
"I told him that you would never more need his aid to buy foot-gear.Lord! Nell, do you mind how he bought you the worsted stockings when youwere nigh mad with the chilblains?"
"And you told him... For God's sake, say what you told him!"
"I did n't mention the king's name--no, I'm loyal to his Majesty, Godsave him! I only told him that you had given up selling oranges inthe pit of Drury Lane, and had taken to the less reputable part of thehouse, to wit, the stage."
"Poor Dick! he did n't like to hear that. Oh, if he had stayed at homeand had carried his link as before, all would have been well!"
"What is the wench talking about? Well--all would have been well? Andis not all well, you jade? 'T were rank treason to say else. Is n't thisroom with its gilded looking-glasses and painted vases pretty well forone who had been an orange girl? The king is a gentleman, and a merrygentleman, too. Well, indeed!"
"But Dick!--what more did you say to him, mother?"
"I asked him after himself, to be sure. I' faith the lad has prospered,Nell--not as you have prospered, to be sure--"
"Nay, not as I have prospered."
"Of course not; but still somewhat. He will tell you all, himself."
"What? You told him where I dwelt?"
"'I meant it not, Nelly; but he had it from me before I was aware. Buthe knows nothing. I tell you he only came to London from Bristol portin the morning. He will have no time to hear of the king and the king'sfancies before he sees you."
"He is coming hither, then? No, he must not come! Oh, he shall not come!Mother, you have played me false!"
"I? Oh, the wench is mad! False? What could I say, girl, when he pressedme?"
"You could have said that I was dead--that would have been the truth.The girl he knew is dead. He must not come to this house."
"Then give your lacqueys orders not to admit him, and all will be well.But I thought that you would e'en see the lad, Nell, now that he hasprospered. If he had n't prospered it would be different."
"Only an orange-seller, and yet with the precepts of a lady of quality!I'll not see him. Did he say he'd come soon?"
"Within an hour, he said." Instinctively, Nell looked at her reflectionin a mirror.
"I'll not see him," she repeated. "That gown will do well enough for onejust returned from the Indies," said the mother, with a leer.
"Oh, go away, go away," cried her daughter. "You have done enoughmischief for one morning. Why could not you have let things be? Whyshould you put this man on my track?"
"'T is a fool that the wench is, for all her smartness," said themother. "She was picked out of the gutter and set down among the noblestin the land, and all that held on to her gown were landed in pleasantplaces; and yet she talks like a kitchen jade with no sense. If you willnot see the lad, hussy, lock your door and close your shutters, aftergiving orders to your lacqueys to admit him not. If needful, the kingcan be petitioned to send a guard to line the Park with their pikes tokeep out poor Dick, as though he was the devil, and the Park the Gardenof Eden."
"Oh, go away--go away!"
"Oh, yes; I 'll go--and you 'll see him, too--no fear about that. Agirl, however well provided for--and you're well provided for--would n'trefuse to see an old sweetheart, if he was the old serpent himself;nay, she'd see him on that account alone. And so good day to you, goodMistress Eve."
She made a mock courtesy, the irony of which was quite as broad as thatof her speech, and marched out of the room, holding her narrow skirtssufficiently high to display a shocking pair of flat-footed bootsbeneath.
Her daughter watched her departure, and only when she had disappearedburst into a laugh. In a moment she was grave once again. She remainedseated without changing her attitude or expression for a long time. Atlast she sprang to her feet, saying out loud, as though some one werepresent to hear her:
"What a fool thou art, friend Nell, to become glum over a boysweetheart--and a link boy, of all boys. Were I to tell Mr. Dryden of myfancy, he would write one of his verses about it, making out that poorDick was the little god Cupid in disguise, and that his link was thetorch of love. But I'll not see him.'T were best not. He'll hear all,soon enough, and loathe me as at times I loathe myself--no, no; not somuch as that, not so much as that: Dick had always a kind heart. No;I'll not see him." She went resolutely to the bell-pull, but when there,stood irresolute with the ornamental ring of brass in her hand, for somemoments before pulling it. She gave it a sudden jerk, and when it wasresponded to by a lacquey, she said:
"Should a man call asking to see me within the next hour, he is to betold--with civility, mind you: he is a gentleman--that--that I am inthis room, and that I will see him for five minutes--only five minutes,mind you, sirrah."
"And the man--the gentleman--is to be admitted, madam?"
"Certainly--for five minutes."
"Your ladyship will regulate the time?"
"Go away, you numbskull! How could I regulate the time? I'm noastronomer."
"Madam, I meant but to inquire if you are to be interrupted at the endof five minutes."
"I gave you no such instruction, sirrah. It is enough for you to carryout the instruction I gave you. Carry it out, and yourself in thebargain."
The man bowed and withdrew. He was familiar with the colloquial style ofhis mistress and her moods.
When the man had gone Nelly laughed again, but suddenly became gravereven than she had yet been.
"What have I done?" she cried. "Oh, there never was so great a fool asme! No, no; I'll not see him! I have as kind a heart as Dick, and I'llprove it by not seeing him."
And yet, when she had her hand on the lock of the door, she stoodirresolute once again for some moments. Then she went out with a firmstep, her intention being to countermand in the hall the instructionsshe had given to the servant in the parlour; but in the hall she foundherself face to face with her old friend, Sir Charles Sedley. He hadbrought her a bunch of violets.
"The satyr offers flowers to Aurora," said the courtier to thecourtesan, bowing as gracefully as a touch of rheumatism permitted.
"And Aurora was so fond of flowers that she accepted them, even from themost satiric of satyrs," said Nell, sinking into a courtesy.
"I plucked these flowers for the fairest flower that--"
"Ah, that is one of Mr. Dryden's images in the reverse," laughed Nell."What was the name of t' other young thing?--Proserpine, that's it--whowas plucking flowers, and was herself plucked. 'Snails! that's not theword--she was n't a fowl."
"'Fore Gad, Nell, I never heard that story; it sounds scandalous, sotell it us," said Sir Charles. "What was the name of the wench, did yousay?"
"Her name was Nell Gwyn, and she was gathering oranges to sell inthe pit of Drury Lane, when, some say Satan, and some say Sedley--theincongruity between the two accounts is too trifling to call fornotice--captivated her, and she had nothing more to do with oranges ororange blossoms."
"And her life was all the merrier, as I doubt not Madame Proserpine'swas when she left the vale of Enna for--well, the Pit--not at DruryLane."
"That were a darker depth still. You 've heard the story, then. Mr.Dryden says the moral of it is that the devil has got all the prettywenches for himself."
"Not so; he left a few for the king."
"Nay, the two are partners in the game; but the King, like t' othermonarch, is not so black as he is painted."
"Nor so absolutely white as to be tasteless as the white of an egg,Nell."
"His Majesty is certainly not tasteless."
"On the contrary, he is in love with you still, Nell."
They were standing apart from the group of servants in the hall. NellGwyn had pretended that she was about to ascend the stairs, but loiteredon the second step, with her right elbow resting on the oak banister,while she smelt at the violets with her head poised daintily, lookingwith eyes full of mischief and mirth at the courtier standing on themat, the feathers of hi
s broad-leafed hat sweeping the ground, as heswung it in making his bows.
Suddenly Nell straightened herself as she looked down the hall towardthe door; she started and dropped her violets. All the mischief andmirth fled from her eyes as a man was admitted, with some measure ofprotestation, by the porter. He was a young man with a very brown face,and he carried no sword, only the hanger of a sailor; his dress was ofthe plainest--neither silk nor lace entered into its manufacture.
Before Sir Charles had time to turn to satisfy himself as to theidentity of the man at whom Nell was gazing so eagerly, she had run downthe hall, and seized the newcomer by both hands, crying:
"Dick--Dick--It is you, yourself, Dick, and no ghost!"
"No ghost, I dare swear, Nell," cried the man, in a tone that made thecandles in the chandelier quiver, and Sir Charles Sedley to be all butswept off his feet. "No ghost, but--O Lord, how you've grown, Nell! Why,when I burnt my last link seeing you home, you was only so high!" He puthis hand within a foot of the floor.
"And you, too, Dick! Why, you're a man now--you'll grow no more, Dick,"cried Nell, still standing in front of him, 'with his hands fast claspedin her own. Suddenly recollecting the servants who were around, shedropped his hands, saying: "Come along within, Dick, and tell me allyour adventures since last we were together."
"Lord! Adventures! You do n't know what you 've set yourself down for,Nell. If I was to tell you all, I should be in your company for at leasta week."
0042]
She led him past Sir Charles Sedley, without so much as glancing at thecourtier, and the newcomer had no eyes for anyone save Nell. A servantthrew open the door of the room where she had been with her mother, andthe two entered.
Sir Charles took snuff elaborately, after he had replaced his hat on hishead.
"If his Majesty should arrive, let him know that I am in the longparlour," he said to a servant, as he walked toward a door on the left.
He paused for a space with his hand on the handle of the door, for therecame from the room into which Nell Gwyn and Dick Harraden had gone aloud peal of laugh ter--not a solo, but a duet.
He turned the handle.
So soon as he had disappeared, there came another ripple of laughterfrom the other room, and the lacqueys lounging in the hall laughed, too.Within the room, Nell was seated on the settee and Dick Harraden by herside. She had just reminded him of the gift of the worsted stockingswhich he had made to her, when he was a link-boy, and she an orange-girlin Drury Lane. They had both laughed when she had pushed out a littledainty shoe from beneath her gown, displaying at the same time atolerably liberal amount of silk stocking, as she said:
"Ah, Dick, it 's not in worsted my toes are clad now. I have outgrownyour stockings."
"Not you, Nell!" he cried. "By the Lord Harry! your feet have gotsmaller instead of larger during these years--I swear to you that isso."
"Ah, the chilblains do make a difference, Dick," said she, "and younever saw my feet unless they were covered with chilblains. Lord! howyou cried when you saw my feet well covered for the first time."
"Not I---I didn't cry. What was there to cry about, Nell?" he said.
She felt very much inclined to ask him the same question at thatmoment, for his face was averted from her, and he had uttered his wordsspasmodically.
"Poor Dick! You wept because you had eaten nothing for three days inorder to save enough to buy my stockings," she said.
"How know you that?" he cried, turning to her suddenly.
"I knew it not at the time," she replied, "but I have thought over itsince."
"Think no more of it, Nell. O Lord! to think that I should live to seeNell again! No--no; I'll not believe it. That fine lady that I see inthe big glass yonder cannot be Nell Gwyn!"
"Oh, Dick, would any one but Nell Gwyn remember about Nell Gwyn'schilblains?"
"Hearsay, mere hearsay, my fine madam!"
"By what means shall I convince you that I'm the Nell you knew? Let mesee--ah, I know. Dick, I 'll swear for you; you know well that there wasnot one could match me in swearing. Let me but begin."
"O Lord! not for the world. You always knew when to begin, Nell, but youne'er knew when to stop. And how doth it come that you have n't forgotthe brimstone of the Lane, Nelly, though you have become so mighty finea lady?"
"'Snails, Dick, the best way to remember a language is to keepconstantly talking it!"
"But in silks and satins?"
"Oh, I soon found that I only needed to double the intensity of mylanguage in the Lane in order to talk the mother tongue of fashion."
"If swearing make the fine lady, you'll be the leader of the town, Nell,I'll warrant. But do n't say that you doubled your language--that wouldbe impossible."
"Oh, would it, indeed?"
"Not so? Then for God's sake do n't give me a sample of what you reachedin that way, for I 've only lived among the pirates and buccaneers ofthe Indies since."
"Then I'll e'en spare thee, Dick. But take warning: do n't provoke me.You would n't provoke a pirate whose guns you knew to be double-shotted.Do n't say that I'm not Nell Gwyn for all my silks and lace. Why, man,doth oatmeal porridge cease to be porridge because it's served in asilver platter? Did your salt pork turn to venison when you ate it offthe gold plate that you stole from the chapels?"
"Lord, Nell, I was n't a pirate."
"What! Did n't you say just now that you had been among pirates andbuccaneers in the Indies?"
"I was among them, but not of them."
"You mean to say that you were neither a pirate nor a buccaneer?"
"Neither!"
"Then all I can say is that I'm mightily ashamed of you, Dick. I countedon your being at least a pirate. Don't say that you became a merchant; Inever could abide dishonesty, Dick."
"Well, no; I never became just a merchant, Nell--at least, not the sortof merchant that merchants would call a merchant."
"Oh, then, there's some hope for you yet, Dick. We may be friendsstill."
"Friends? Well, I should say so! What did I work for, do you think,through all these years? What did I lay up a store of guineasfor--guineas and Spanish doubloons and pieces of eight for----"
"And you have made a fortune, Dick? Think of that! Ah, I fear that youmust have been a regular merchant after all; only regular merchants makefortunes in these days."
"Ay, but some irregular ones do pretty fairly for themselves."
"And you were somewhat irregular, I dare swear?"
"Well, I wasn't regularly irregular, dear, only by fits and starts. Ah,what I said to myself was: 'I've put the stockings on Nell, but I'veto get the shoes for her yet.' That's what gave me the strength of tenmen--working for those shoes, Nell."
"Poor Dick! and now when you come home, you find that I am alreadyprovided for."
Again she showed him the dainty tips of her shoes.
"Those are fair weather shoes, Nell," he cried.
"Ay, that they are, Dick," she assented, with a note of sadness in hervoice.
"But what I would offer you would stand the stress of all weather--fairor foul, Nell."
"I believe you, Dick, with all my heart. I know what you had to offerme; but it 's too late now, too late, Dick."
"Too late? What do you mean, girl?"
The look that came into his face frightened her. She threw herself backon the settee and laughed loudly for a minute or two.
"That's what I mean," she cried, tilting up her toes until they wereon a level with his knees. "What else could I mean than that I'm alreadysufficiently shod? Even Nell Gwyn can't wear more than one pair of shoesat a time, Dick. It's rather a pity, but 't is an ill that must beborne. Now tell us all about yourself, Dick. Tell us how you fought withpirates and buccaneers--never mind telling how you made a fortune inpieces of eight: there's no romance about making a fortune--tell usabout the pirates, and above all, tell us what the Spanish Main is."
"The Spanish Main--why, it's the Spanish Main, to be sure--south of theIndies--a good place f
or trade, and a good place for pirates. But you,Nell; I wonder if you meant anything by saying that I had come back toolate? I thought, you know, when I met your mother----"
"Oh, I want to hear about the fighting--the buccaneers! I do n't want tohear about my mother; I hear enough about her. You fought the pirates?Well, next to being a pirate yourself, that's the best thing."
"Well, if you must know, I got about me a few score of lads--mostof them were stout Irish lads who were sold to the plantations byCromwell."
"The monster!"
"Ay, we made up a brave crew, I can tell you. Our plan was to do nopirating on our own behalf, but only to attack the pirates when they hada deck-load of spoil. Taking from thieves is n't stealing, is it, Nell?"
"No; that's business."
"A bit irregular, it may be, as I said just now; but bless you, Nelly,it was like sermon-preaching compared to some sorts of business thatthrive mightily at the Indies. Anyhow, here I am to-day, sound andhearty, Nell, with a pretty nice fortune made already, and more tocome--here I am, ready and willing to buy you the best pair of shoes inLondon town, and every other article of attire you may need for the nextdozen--ay, the next fifty years."
"Dick--Dick!"
"Is n't it true that you were always my sweetheart, Nell? Didn't yousay that you would never marry another? Well, you've kept your word sofar--your mother told me that."
"Ah, that's the worst of it."
"The worst of it! That's the best of it, Nelly; for though a fine lady,living in a mansion like this--why, it might be a palace--the Kinghimself might come here-----"
"The King--you've heard that--that the King?"
She grasped him fiercely by the sleeve, and was eagerly peering into hisface.
He burst out laughing, but suddenly checked himself.
"The King--the King--what was there for me to hear?" he asked in a lowvoice. "I only arrived from Bristol port in the morning. How could Ihear anything?"
"I do n't want to hear anything, except to hear you say that you haven't broken your promise--that you have n't married any one else."
"Oh, go away, Dick--go away!" she cried, burying her face on the arm ofthe settee.
He got upon his feet slowly and painfully, and stood over her.
"Why should I go away?" he asked, in the same grave voice. "If I loveyou--and you know I do--and if you love me--and I believe that youdo--it is not for me to go away. Ah, is it possible that you have givenyour promise to marry some one else? Do n't weep, Nell; that's it, Isee, and it can be made all right. Is that it, dear?"
"No, no. Oh, go away--go away, and never return to make me feel howmiserable I am!"
"I'll not go away. There's some mystery about you and this house, andI'll not go before I fathom it."
She looked up and saw him standing there with his arms folded.
She leaped up so quickly that she almost seemed to spring into his arms.He thought so, at any rate, and was about to clasp her when she caughtboth of his hands in her own, gazing tearfully--eagerly--wistfully, intohis face.
"Dick--dear Dick," she said; "if you love me still--and I know youdo--you will leave me now. Oh, you should never have come here--Idid not mean you to come; but if you love me, Dick, you will leave menow--leave me and go into the nearest coffee-house, and ask of the firstman you see there who is Nell Gwyn? What is Nell Gwyn? If you returnto me after that, then--then, Dick, I swear to you that I'll marryyou; there will be none to stay us then, none to come between--the Kinghimself shall not come between us."
He gripped her hands fiercely, his face close down to hers.
"By God, I 'll do it!" he said, through his set teeth. "I'll do it. Youhave put it upon me. I know that I shall hear nothing but what isgood of you, and I'll return to claim you, as sure as there's a sun inheaven."
He dropped her hands, snatched up his hat, and walked firmly to thedoor. When there, he turned slowly and looked back at her. She wasstanding pale and lovely where he had left her. Her eyes were upon hisface.
He flung himself through the door, and she fell on her knees beside thesettee, burying her face in one of its cushions.
For some minutes, nothing was heard in the room but the sound of hersobs; but then the silence was broken by a shout outside--a shout andthe noise of a scuffle. Cries of "Hold him back! Hold him back!" camefrom the servants, and mixed with some full-bodied imprecations in othervoices. Nell started to her feet, as the door of the room was all butcrashed in, and she was standing with a startled look on her face, asthe door was flung wide open, and Dick Harraden hurled a limp antagonistinto the room.
"He shall eat his words--every foul word he uttered he shall swallow inthe presence of Nell herself," cried Dick, and then Nell recognised SirCharles Sedley as the man who was standing panting, with a broken swordin his hand, by her side, facing Dick.
"For God's sake, Dick!--Sir Charles--what has happened?"
The courtier was too breathless to speak--he signified so much verypleasingly to Nell.
"The cowardly knave!" panted Dick. "But I swore that I'd make him eathis words, and by the Lord Harry, I'll keep my oath!"
"Sir Charles, pray--oh, Dick!"
"Dick me no Dicks, Nell, until this popinjay has gone down on his kneesbefore you and asked your pardon for his foul words," cried Dick. "Downyou go, my gentleman, were you fifty times Sir Charles."
"For heaven's sake, Nell, keep that fire-eater at a distance," gaspedSir Charles; "he's fit for Bedlam!"
"Stand where you be, Dick," said Nell. "What said Sir Charles Sedley togive you offence?"
"He said that you--no, I 'll hang in chains in Execution Dock before Irepeat the lie--but he'll take it back, every word, if I have to wringhis neck!"
Dick was with difficulty kept at a distance.
"Did he say aught about the King and me?" asked Nell, in a low voice.
"It was, I swear, a most unhappy _contretems_, Nell," said Sir Charles,smiling in a somewhat constrained way. "How could I know that there wasone man in England who did n't know how splendid, yet how natural, aconquest the charms of Mistress Eleanor Gwyn have achieved?"
"Then you only spoke the truth, Sir Charles," said Nell. "God above us!"
Dick staggered back, and grasped the frame of a chair to supporthimself. There was a long silence.
He took a faltering step or two towards where she stood in the middle ofthe room.
"I see it all now," he said, in a low voice. "I see it all. Thishouse--the lacqueys in scarlet--the King's servants--they are the King'sservants, and you--you, Nell, are the King's----Oh, God! let me die--letme die! This is what I came home for! You told me to go to the firstcoffee-house; I did n't need to go so far. Oh, Nelly, if I had come hometo stand beside the green hillock of your grave I could have borne it,but this--this!"
He dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands. His sobbingwas the only sound in the room.
After a long pause he got slowly upon his feet.
"I'm going away," he said. "My heart is broken, Nell--my heart isbroken. Good-bye, Nell."
"Good-bye, Dick."
She had not moved from the middle of the room. She did not hold out ahand to him. He walked slowly to the door. Then he turned round.
"I humbly ask your pardon, sir," he said to Sir Charles.
"Sir," said the courtier, "I honour you more than any living man."
"Nell--Nell--come to me--come away with me--come to my arms, Nell,"cried the man, holding out his hands to her from where she stood.
Sir Charles watched her face. He saw it light up for a moment. Her handsmoved; she was going to him.
No, she only looked at the man who loved her and was ready to offer hereverything, and said:
"Dick, I have a boy in a cradle upstairs."
There was another long pause before Dick whispered the words: "God blessthee, Nell," Then the door was flung wide in his face by a lacquey, whobowed to the ground as he ushered in a rather plainfaced man wearing adiamond star and a broad blue sash
, as well as a diamond garter.
Nell sank in a courtesy, and Sir Charles Sedley made an obeisance. Dickremained unmoved.
"Ha! what have we here?" said the stranger. "'Odsfish! a pretty familypicture! Who may you be, good sir?" he asked of Dick.
"Who may _you_ be?" asked Dick.
"Well, who I may be in a year or two, the Lord and Nelly only knows--shesays a merry pauper. But who I am is easier said; I happen just now tobe the King."
Dick stood unmoved.
"Then I could tell you _what_ you are, sir,' said Dick.
"Not half as well as I could tell you, my friend," said the King.
"I wonder if your Majesty ever hears the truth?" said Dick.
"Seldom; any time I do, it comes from the lips of Nelly, yonder,"replied the King. "And by my soul, sir, I would rather hear the truthfrom Nelly, than a lie from the most honourable of my subjects."
"Profligate!" cried Dick.
"I answer to that name, sir; what then?" said the King.
"What then? God only can reply to your 'what then?' The answer restswith Him. He will not forget to answer you when His time comes."
"Even so," said the King, in a low tone, bending his head.
Sir Charles had moved round the settee, and had opened the door. Hetouched Dick on the elbow. Dick started for a moment and then stalkedthrough the door. Sir Charles went out with his face turned towards theKing.
"A straightforward fellow, but as conceited as a Puritan, Nell," criedthe King, with a laugh. "What brought him here?" But Nell had sunk oncemore on her knees beside the settee, and her face was, as before, buriedin the cushion.
"Ha, what's this, Nelly? What's amiss?" said the King, bending over her.
"Oh, go away--go away! I never want to see you again. You heard theword, profligate, profligate!"
"I'll go away, Nell, so soon as I pass to you the two papers which Ihold in my hand."
"I want no papers; I want to be alone."
"Come, dear child; see if you will like your new plaything."
He pushed before her one of the two papers which he held.
She glanced at it without rising, and without taking it from him.Suddenly she put out a hand to it.
"What?" she cried. She was now on her feet. "You have done it forme--all for me? The hospital to be built at Chelsea! Oh, my liege!"
"Now the other paper," said the King.
She took it from him.
"Ah, Royal Letters Patent--our boy--our Charlie--Duke of St. Albans! Oh,my liege--my King--my love forever!" She sank on her knees, and,catching his hand, covered it with kisses--with kisses and tears.