The Knight Of The Golden Melice by John Turvill Adams (web based ebook reader txt) 📖

Care Not For Them, Yet, To Pleasure Thee, Would I Do More. I Will

Remain, According To Thy Wish, And, Meanwhile, To-Night, Seek

Sassacus, Who Soon Returns To His Distant Tribe."

 

 

 

"Be It So, Then," Said The Lady. "Neebin." She Called To The Indian

Girl, Who Was In The Adjoining Apartment, And Who, At The Summons,

Came Running Up; "Give Me Now The Book, And I Will Tell Thee A Story

About One Of The Pictures."

  

 

The Knight Understood This As A Signal To Withdraw, And Accordingly

Took His Leave.

 

 

 The Lady, On His Departure, Instead Of Talking With The Child,

Returned Her The Missal With No Excuse, And Drawing The Letter Of

Father Le Vieux From Her Bosom, Commenced Reading It Again.

 

 

 "My Judgment, Then," She Murmured, "Is Confirmed By That Of The Holy

Father. Thus Writes He: 'I Fear, My Daughter, That The Leaven Hath Not

Done Its Perfect Office. There Be Many Called, But Alas, How Few Are

Fit For The Work! In Some Things Hesitancy Is A Deadly Sin. Let The

Faint Hearted Step Aside, That More Vigorous Souls May Take Their

Place.' Whatever May Be The Consequences," She Continued To Herself,

"I Feel Cheered, In That My Course Will Be Approved By The Father.

Thou Knowest, Holy Mary, That It Was Through No Ignoble Motive, But

Only For Thy Glory I Did This Thing, Whereof, Alas! My Poor Woman's

Heart More Than Half Repented. Oh! Pity, That One Endowed With So Many

Gracious Qualities As Sir Christopher, Should Lack The Iron Firmness

Which Gives Consistency And Dignity To Life, And That His Weakness

Compelled Me To That Which I Would Not, For The World, His Noble

Nature Should Suspect: But Since This Letter From The Father, No Doubt

Assails Me. The Course I Have Adopted I Will Pursue, Nor Shall My

Constant Soul Falter. Sooner Shall The Needle Desert The Beloved

Pole." 

 

 

The Face Of The Woman Assumed An Expression Of Indomitable Resolution.

She Looked Like One Incapable Of A Weakness--Like One Who, Mastered By

An Engrossing Purpose, Feels That All Else Is Trivial, And To Be As

Little Regarded As The Dust Which The Traveller Shakes From His Soiled

Garment.

 

 

Chapter XXV (He Hears On All Sides, From Innumerable Tongues, A Dismal, Universal Hiss.)

 

 

 

 Paradise Lost.

 

  

When Arundel Arrived At The Little Settlement, He Proceeded

Straightway To The Hostelry, Which Was His Usual Stopping Place, And

As He Entered, Was Met By The Landlord With Those Demonstrations Of

Welcome, Wherewith The Publican Is In The Habit Of Greeting His

Customers.

 

  

"So You Have Got Safe Off From Them Bloody Salvages, (Praised Be The

Lord For All His Mercies)," Said Goodman Nettles. "And You Look

Browner, As Though You'd Caught Some Of Their Color From Being With

Them, But Hearty As My Tapster, Zachariah Sider, Who Can Begin With

The Head Of An Ox, And Never Stop Till He Wipes His Mouth With The

Tuft On The End Of The Tail, Washing It Down, Moreover, With A

Quantity Of Ale That Ails Me--Ahem!--(Here Nettles Put His Finger On

The Side Of His Nose, And Grinned As If He Had Really Said A Capital

Thing,) To See Wasted On His Lean Carcase. But, Master Arundel, You

Must Be Dry. There Is Some Of The Old Canary Left."

 

 

"Let Me Have A Bottle, And, If Agreeable To Thee, We Will Empty It

Together."

 

 

 As The Landlord Left The Room, Arundel, On Looking Round, Discovered

What He Had Not Observed Before, Viz., Our Old Friend, Master Pront,

In A Sort Of Recess, Formed By The Projection Of The Chimney. The

Worthy Functionary Was Engaged, At The Moment, In Taking His Eleven

O'clock Refreshment Of A Pot Of Beer, (A Habit From Which His Exile

From The Old Country Had Not Been Able To Wean Him,) But, At The

Approach Of The Young Man, He Rose, And Gravely Shook Hands With Him.

Miles Had Barely Time To Offer A Share Of The Wine, Which, However,

Master Prout Refused, When Nettles Returned With A Bottle.

 

 

 '"There," Said He, Setting It Down, And Looking Affectionately At It,

"I Warrant Me You Get No Such Soul Of The Grape Among The Red Heathen,

Though If They Had Any Wit They Might Have Puncheons Of It, If They

Only Knew How To Make Them, For They Say There Is Store Of Grape Vines

Growing About."

   

 

"As For Me," Said Master Prout, After Raising The Tankard To His Lips,

And Taking A Draught, Long And Deep, "I'm A Genuine Englishman In My

Taste. Give Me, Say I, Your Humming Beer, With A Body To It, In Place

Of All The Wishy-Washy Wines Of The Frenchman Or The Spaniard. They

Only Pucker One's Mouth, And Heat One's Blood; But There Is Neither

Bread Nor Cheese In Them, As In Good John Barleycorn."

 

 

 

"The Ale Deserves All Your Praise, Master Prout," Said The Host,

"Though I Say It Myself; Nevertheless, Is The Good Wine Not To Be

Despised. I Know No Reason Why A True Born Englishman May Not Like

Both."

 

 

"It May Be Well For Thee, Whose Business Is To Get Thy Living From

Their Sale, To Talk Thus," Replied Master Prout; "But For All That, I

Relish Not These Foreign Decoctions--Your Canaries, Your Sherries, And

Your Portos. Their Very Names Have A Smack Of Popery In Them. Down

With The Pope, And All His Inventions To Tickle Men's Palates And Damn

Their Souls."

 

 

 "And So Say I, Down With The Pope, But Up With Good Wine, And Down

With It Too, So It Only Runs In The Right Place; But It Grieves Me To

Hear You, Good Master Prout, Evening Down Good Wine To The

Pope--Why--"

 

 

 Contradict Me Not, Goodman Nettles," Interrupted The Guardian Of

Public Morals. "I Say That I Have Ever Remarked The Man Who Prefers

Wine To Ale, To Be Of An Unsteady Faith. It Savors Of A Hankering

After The Flesh-Pots Of Egypt. Let Not Such A Man Be Trusted."

 

  

As The Constable Was Speaking, Arundel Could Not Help Fancying That He

Looked Hard At Him, As If Some Personal Application Of The Words Were

Intended. He Took No Notice, However, Of Them, Especially As Mine Host

Immediately Rejoined:

 

 

 

"Dear, Good Master Prout, Speak Not So. Why, If My Customers Were To

Hear You, The Character Of My House Might Be Ruinated. Whoever Heard

Before That The Pope Had Ever Anything To Do With Wine? I Do Not

Believe He Drinks It At All."

 

 

 "Art Thou A Christian Man, And So Ignorant Of The Things That Pertain

To Salvation? Tells Us Not The Book Of Revelations Of The Merchandise

Of The Great City Of Babylon, When It Shall Fall--Cinnamon, And Odors,

And Ointments, And Frankincense, And Wine; And Sayest Thou The Pope

Hath No Part Thereof?"

 

  

"An' You Are For Scripture," Answered Mine Host, "Have At Thee With A

Text In Return? Saith Not The Scripture, Also, He Giveth Wine To

Gladden Man's Heart? Moreover, Though There Be Wine At Rome, It Doth

Not Follow, Therefrom, That It Is Drunk By The Pope."

 

  

"Contradict Me Not, I Say, Goodman, And Pervert Not The Scriptures

With Thy Famulistical Interpretations. I Observed You Spoke But A

Moment Ago Of The Soul Of The Grape, As If It Were Possible That A

Divine Principle Could Lodge Therein, I Caution Thee Against This, As

A Profane And Indecent Form Of Speech, Unbecoming In One Of The

Congregation; And, Besides, An' Thou Wouldst Retain My Custom, Take

Heed Thou Put More Malt Into Thy Ale."

  

 

"It Is Strong Enough To Answer Thy Purpose," Muttered The Offended

Landlord, But In So Low A Tone As To Be Unheard; And, As New Customers

Began To Come In, He Left, In Order To Assist In Manipulations Of The

Bottle And Spigot, His Tapster, Zachariah Sider, Whom His Late

Flourishing Fortune Had Enabled Him To Add To The Establishment.

 

 

 "Has Anything Worthy Of Note Occurred, During My Absence Of Three

Weeks?" Inquired Arundel Of Master Prout.

 

  

"How Were It Possible Otherwise?" Replied The Constable, Whom The

Colloquy With The Host Seemed Not To Have Left In The Best Of Humors.

"Here Hath Been Increase Faith Higginson Twice Coopered Up In A

Barrel, Once For Drunkenness, And A Second Time On Suspicion Thereof;

Jonathan Makepiece Hath Lain In The Stocks For Quarreling With, And

Using Contumacious Language Toward David Battle; Susannah Silence Hath

Sat Tied In A Chair, Before Her Door, With A Cleft Stick Upon Her

Tongue, For Being Too Free In The Use Of That Member; Divers Godly

Persons Have Connected Themselves With The Congregation, And Two

Unworthy Achans Been Driven Therefrom--The One For Incontinence, Until

He Repent Thereof, And The Other For Denying The Just Power Of The

Elders."

  

 

Arundel Could Not Forbear Smiling At This Odd Enumeration Of Important

Events, Which His Informant Observing, And Construing Into Disrespect,

Immediately Added:

 

  

"Have A Care, Master Miles Arundel, Unto Thyself. I Wish Thee Well,

For Thou Art A Proper Young Man, And, Did The Inner Garnishing

Correspond With The Outer Adornment, Thou Wert Indeed A Comely Vessel

Of Grace; And, Therefore, Say I Unto Thee, There Be Other Matters

Touching Thee More Nearly Than Those Things Whereof I Have Spoken, And

Whereat, I Know Not Wherefore, It Pleased Thee To Smile."

  

 

"I Pray You To Pardon My Involuntary Offence," Said The Young Man,

"And To Believe That My Smiling Betokened No Disrespect. My Mirth Was

Awakened By The Comical Pictures Which Thine Ingenious Answer Conjured

Before The Imagination."

  

 

"I Trow," Said Master Prout, "They Who Come Under The Displeasure Of

Our Magistrates, Will Find Their Punishments No Such Comical Matters.

There Be Such Things As Whippings And Nose-Slittings, As Well As

Sittings In The Stocks, And The Like."

 

  

"I Know," Answered Arundel, "That Your Magistrates Are No Lambs. Yet

Of Thy Complaisance, Tell Me Wherein I Am Interested In Aught That Has

Befallen In My Absence."

 

  

"This Sir Christopher Gardiner, The Man Who Is Sometimes Called 'The

Knight Of The Golden Melice,' Is A Great Friend Of Thine, Is He Not?"

Asked Master Prout.

  

 

"I Account It An Honor To Call Him My Friend. A Worthier Or More

Honorable Gentleman Lives Not In The Colony."

 

 

 

"There Be Different Opinions On That Head, My Young Master. The Closer

Thy Friendship, The Worse, I Fear, It Will Be For Thee."

 

  

"Speak Out, Master Prout," Exclaimed Arundel, Losing Patience. "If

Thou Knowest Any Talk Prejudicial To The Fair Fame Of The Sir

Christopher, Let Me Know It, That The Calumniator May Be Dragged To

Light, And Receive Deserved Punishment."

 

  

"It Would Take A Long Arm To Reach His Accusers, Seeing They Are On

The Other Side Of The Ocean. Hark Ye, Young Sir--It Is In Every One's

Mouth That Thy Famous Knight Is An Agent Of Sir Ferdinando Gorges, Who

Makes Unrighteous Claim To The Lands Granted Us By His Majesty King

Charles, And, Moreover, Thou Art Connected With Him, In Men's Minds,

As In Some Sort An Accomplice."

 

  

"Is That All?" Said The Young Man, Scornfully. "I Judge From Thy

Speech That These Lies Come In Letters From England. Pray, Are They

Credited By Any One, Save By Them Of The Baser Sort?"

 

  

"Callest Thou Me One Of The Baser Sort? Wilt Thou Revile Them Who Are

Set In Authority Over Thee? Have A Care, My Young Cockeril, Or Thy Own

Comb May Chance To Be Cut."

 

 

 "Out With Thee, Malapert Knave," Said The Young Man, In His Vexation,

"And Know To Respect Thy Betters. Truly, The World Is Come To A Pretty

Pass, When A Fowl Like Thee Is Permitted To Ruffle His Feathers At A

Gentleman."

  

 

"An' He Were Not In Some Sort An Ambassador, Whom I Have Heard It Is

Unlawful For A Constable To Touch," Growled Master Prout To Himself,

As Arundel Angrily Turned His Back Upon Him, "I Had Taught Him

Incontinently, Better Than To Speak To Me In This Fashion. As It Is, I

Will Advise With Master Spikeman About This Matter." So Saying, With A

Flushed Brow, The Irate Officer Of The Law Departed.

 

  

"What Means This, Colonel Mcmahon?" Demanded Arundel. "Here Have I

Been A Bare Three Weeks Away, On Business Of The Commonwealth, And On

My Return I Find Myself Rewarded With Sour Looks And Unpleasant

Speeches, _Sans_ Any Consciousness Of Deserving