Part 20 (1/2)
”My worthy master Ptolemy Hath writ this prologue painfully To th' intent that by it ye may see What otherwise were dim.
The scene though pastorally laid Is traversed by an Earl, arrayed In shepherd-guise to win a maid That loathes the sight of him.”
and so retired amidst a buzz of excitement.
We had got through about half the piece in this manner, and without mishap, when Mr. Ptolemy, that was then in the midst of a complaint of the wooden Earl for the unkindness of his shepherdess; Mr. Ptolemy (I say) turned to me suddenly, quite neglecting his book, and very eagerly--
”How now,” quoth he, ”here is the very opportunity come I have sought long since, and yet had nigh forgot it. What, I prythee, is the meaning of that little word _Quemadmodum_?”
But ere I could reply, there arose such a shrill murmur of resentment from the auditors as no seeker after truth might withstand, and Mr.
Philpot, abruptly recalled to the necessary affairs of his love-sick Earl, had much ado to get him to his feet again, he being by this time all entangled by the wires of the motion. However, he did so, and the play proceeded again.
When all was done and the boy sent round amongst the people to solicit their gratuities, Mr. Ptolemy breathed a deep sigh, and having put up his puppets into the box, closed the lid and returned upon me with a courteous request that I should now deal with him at large upon the subject of _Quemadmodum_, which word, as he told me, he had oftentimes met with in the books he continued to collect in the Latin tongue, and to which, when he should have acquired a competency, he intended to devote his leisure.
”For there is nothing comparable with your Latin,” said he, ”to give a cast of magnificence to that a man may say. My father had some words of it that he used chiefly when he was wroth, and they did more, I warrant you, than all else to bring him off happily in his disputations. The princ.i.p.al saying he used was ... nay, I have forgot it, but 'tis no great matter, for it was not of so catholick an application as the _Quemadmodum_, nor so well sounding.”
I was about to comply with his simple demand, when the lad again thrust in his head betwixt the hangings, crying out: ”Come forth, master, instantly; for here is my Lord Lumley come from his great house above, that requires you to answer certain reflections made upon him, as he thinks, in that character of the rejected Earl; which will lead us the devil's gait an' you satisfy him not of your simplicity.”
”What told I you?” exclaimed the poor baulked Latinist, regarding me with so tragick a countenance that I lost all inclination to laugh, ”there's none sees aught in all this but he hath brought it himself hither in the thick o' the head, with a pest! and what is a poor player to do!”
He went away very sorrowfully to my Lord Lumley's house, and I, that saw my way open (being unwilling to attend his return), slipped from my cover and was soon enough safe at home. This adventure ended, and the night come and gone, I went the next day to my work again, and there continued for above a week, casting accompts under the strict eye of Mr. Enos Procter, and never venturing nearer to Petty Wales than sufficed to show me there was a pretty strong guard of yeomen kept about the broken gate, who suffered no man to approach closely, nor none (if indeed there were any left within) to depart thence. I guessed by this, and by their leaving unprotected that lane behind the other half of the great house, that they knew not of the connection and pa.s.sage between the two parts; and so tried to comfort myself that Idonia was got safely away, or if she yet remained, that she did so without any extraordinary peril; though for all that I was very miserable to be kept ignorant of her present lodging, but resolved that, before many days were pa.s.sed, I would forcibly undertake her discovery and rescue, or at the least come by such certain information as should lead to our meeting, and the renewal of our pledged troth.
CHAPTER XVIII
IN WHICH I RECEIVE A COMMISSION AND SUFFER A CHECK
The execution of my design was precipitated by a certain accident which at that time befell me, and was by me regarded as happy or untoward, according as I dwelt upon the recognition of merit it implied, or upon the delayed return which it necessitated, to my intercourse with Idonia Avenon.
It happened then, that about eight or nine days after that riotous siege of Petty Wales, I was at work upon my high stool in Chequer Lane, where I was deeply engaged in computing the value of the several shares the merchants of our Company were willing to take, upon charter party with the owners of a certain s.h.i.+p called _The Saracen's Head_, Captain Spurrier, that was about to set forth upon a voyage into Argiers, and thereafter, unless otherwise ordered, yet further to the eastward.
Being so occupied as I say, there entered the counting-house a servant of Sir Edward Osborne's that desired of Mr. Procter to tell him whether one Denis Cleeve were there in that place; to which he answering that he was, and that I was the man he inquired after, the servant saluted me very properly and bade me go with him to the Governor's, that is, to Sir Edward Osborne's, who expected me at his house.
Marvelling what this should intend, I nevertheless made haste to follow the servant, and was soon after ushered into a great chamber, wainscoted very high up with walnut-wood, and with a table at one end of it, whereon was a woollen cloth spread, very rich, and having the coat and crest of the knight's family woven into the midst of it.
About the walls were hung many fair pictures, all of men save one, which was of a maid of about ten years, that had a very winsome smiling face and cl.u.s.tered curls about it. In this chamber I was left alone to wait for some small s.p.a.ce, when after there came in to me Sir Edward, very gravely, together with his secretary, who straight sat him down at the table and mended his pen.
Upon their entering I did my courtesy, which the merchant quietly received, and then, motioning me to a chair, immediately commenced:
”I have sent for you, Mr. Cleeve,” said he, sitting down also, ”because I have had a good report of you from him in whose charge you work, Mr.
Procter, who moreover hath made the addition that you are of a spirit somewhat higher than seemeth necessary a scrivener should have, they being for the most part a mild and inoffensive sort of men--what say you, Mr. Secretary?”
The man of the pen seemed greatly taken aback at this direct challenge to his manhood, and could but stammer out that secretaries were doubtless more faithful than arrogant, stealing at the same time such a spleenful look upon me as I thought he would have sent his quill and ink-horn after it.
”Faithful--ay,” said Master Osborne, with a little smile about the eyes, ”but nowise arrogant. I hope you be not arrogant either, Mr.
Cleeve,” he added, fixing his gaze upon me.
”I hope not, sir,” said I, ”nor think I am not either, for, as Mr.
Procter hath often told me, there is nothing checks a man's pride like the book-keeping, that makes him put down a thing on both sides an accompt in a just balance; which pride forbids a man to do.”