Part 17 (2/2)
Consequently, I gave William and the servants a severe lecture before we saddled up for the ride toRome . ”Don't argue about religion; in particular, do not defend the Church of England, the Lutherans, or the Calvinists.”
As I said this, I kept my eye on Samuel. Back home, he was always railing about papist this and papist that. Right on cue, he protested my instruction.
”But sir, it is one thing not to start an argument about religion, but must I feign allegiance to the Harlot of Rome?”
I put him in his place, of course. ”I expect you to protect the interests of your master, the earl. Don't pretend to be a Roman Catholic unless it is absolutely necessary to avoid arrest, but don't say anything in favor of the Anglican Church. Or any other faith.
”Oh, and don't give scandal in their churches. If you cannot bear the idolatry, remain outside.”
Of course, it was easy for me to give such advice. My views of G.o.d and religion would give offense to everyone.
Despite my little precaution, I couldn't help but be nervous when, at the border, we were summoned before the local office of the Inquisition. After all, we were Protestants in the heartland of Catholicism.
”Next!” said the sergeant.
The Dominican friar, the representative of the Inquisition at this border post, closely examined us.
Dressed in black, he looked like a large crow. One with a case of dyspepsia.
”What is your country?”
I answered for the entire party. ”England.”
”What are the names and stations of all of the members of your party?”
”This is William Cavendish, Earl of Devons.h.i.+re and Baron of Hardwicke.” Always good to let the inquisitors know that they are dealing with someone of high rank. ”I am his tutor, Mister Thomas Hobbes, a graduate ofOxford . We are accompanied by his servants, Patrick McDonnell, Samuel Brown, and Geoffrey Watson.”
”Are you all Christians?”
”Yes.”
”Are you all Catholics?”
”Yes.” It was an honest answer, since we Anglicans considered ourselves to be thetrue Catholics. I had warned our little company to expect this question, and my stock reply. I warned Samuel twice.
”What is your business inRome ?”
”To see the sights.”
”Where are you going after you are finished inRome ?”
”Naples, to seeMount Vesuvius .”
”Are you carrying any books which are on theIndex Librorum Prohibitorum ?”
”No, Holy Father.”
The inquisitor conferred with the sergeant. ”You are free to go.”
Rome February, 1633 William lunged, delivering the coup de grace to a phantom opponent.
I shook my head. ”Lord Devons.h.i.+re. Have you been keeping your journal up-to-date?”
William shook his head like a man trying to rouse himself from sleep. ”My journal?”
”You heard me, Milord. Your lady mother expects to see proof that you have been observant. As I have told you before, you must record the history, geography, climate, wildlife, trade, agriculture, minerals, food, clothing, customs, art, laws, politics, and fortifications of each land we pa.s.s through.”
William gave me a sheepish look. ”Not since we leftFlorence .”
”I have to go out and run some errands. This would be a good time to set down in your journal a description of what you have seen inRome so far. You may go outside once you are done, but don't go alone.”
I returned to our apartment and found cla.s.sical bric-a-brac all over the place. Vases, bronzes, tablets, and busts galore. There was barely room to walk without tripping over an ancient Roman or two.
”Look what I bought!” William chortled.
”I am looking.”
”I went off to the old Forum. It's market day there, and as I was walking about, I ran into this Englishman. We got to talking, I told him who I was, and he said that he had been a friend of my father, G.o.d rest his soul.
”Well, it turned out that his guide, this Italian fellow, was from this old family, that could trace its descent all the way back to old Julius Caesar, and they had all this old Roman stuff that had been in their family for generations. And because I was a fellow Englishman, and because he knew my father, they were willing to let me in on the chance to buy it!”
”How extraordinarily generous of them,” I said. I wondered whether any of the sculptures were more than a year old; they had been somewhat indifferently ”aged.”
”Patrick, Geoffrey, you were supposed to keep his lords.h.i.+p out of trouble.”
”There was no trouble, sir, no trouble at all. Lord's expected to shop when he's in foreign parts.”
”What's wrong?” William said.
”Lord Devons.h.i.+re, how many splinters of the True Cross are there?”
William blinked. ”I don't know. A hundred?”
”Judging from the number which have been sold, enough for a thousand crosses!” I shook my head.
”Lord Devons.h.i.+re, you have great wealth and people will try to take advantage of you. Here inRome , they have been manufacturing fakes for over a thousand years.”
”So these aren't real?” William's lips quivered.
I took pity on him. A little bit. ”Well, some may be good copies of the real thing. I would have to look at them more closely.”
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