 CHAPTER X There entering in they found the Goodman's self, fool-bizzily, unto his work he bent, who was, to wheat, a wretched wearish-off, with hollow eyes and raw-bone cheeks for-spent, as if he had been long in prison-pent. The Fairy Queen Are we far from the dwelling of the smith, my pretty lad? said Tressylian, to his young guide. How is it you call me? said the boy, looking askew at him with his sharp grey eyes. I call you my pretty lad. Is there any offence in that, my boy? No. But were you with Grandam and Dominique Holliday, you might sing chorus to the old song of. Which of the three Tom Fools be? And why so, my little man? said Tressylian. Because, answered the ugly urchin, you are the only three ever called me pretty lad. Now, my Grandam does it because she is parcel-blind by age, and whole-blind by kindred, and my master, the poor Dominique, does it to curry favour, and have the fullest platter of harmony, and the warmest seat by the fire. But what you call me pretty lad for, you know best yourself. Thou art a sharp wag, at least, if not a pretty one. But what do thy play for those call thee? Hobgoblin answered the boy readily. But for all that, I would rather have my own ugly physiognomy than any of their jolter-heads, than have no more brains in them than a brick-fat. And you fear not this myth whom you are going to see. Me fear him, answered the boy. If he were the devil folk think him, I would not fear him. But though there is something queer about him, he's no more a devil than you are, and that's what I would not tell to everyone. And why do you tell it to me, then, my boy, said Tressylian. Because you are another guest, gentlemen, than those we see here every day, replied to Guy. And though I am as ugly as sin, I would not have you think me an ass, especially as I may have a boon to ask of you one day. And what is that, my lad, whom I must not call pretty, replied Tressylian. Oh, if I were to ask it just now, said the boy, you would deny it me. But I will wait till we meet at court. At court, Richard, are you bound for court, said Tressylian. Aye, aye, that's just like the rest of them, replied the boy. I warrant me, you think. What should such an ill-favour, scrambling urchin do it, court? But let Richard sludge alone. I've not been cock of the roost here for nothing. I will make sharp wit men foul feature. But what will your grandad say, and your tutor, Dominique Holliday? In what they like, replied Dickie. The one has her chickens to reckon, and the other has his boys to whip. I would have given them the candle to hold long since, and shown this trumpery hamlet, a fair pair of heels. But that Dominique promises I should go with him to bear share in the next pageant, he is to set forth, and they say there are to be great revel shortly. And whereabouts are they to be held, my little friend? said Tressylian. Oh, at some castle far in the north, answered his guide. A world's breath from Berkshire. But our old Dominique holds that they cannot go forward without him, and it may be he is right, for he has put in order many a fair pageant. He's not half the fool he would take him for when he gets to work, he understands. And so he can spout verses like a play actor, when God won't, if you sent him to steal a goose's egg, he would be drummed by the gander. And you are to play a part in his next show, said Tressylian. Somewhat interested by the boy's boldness of conversation, and true to estimate a character. In faith, said Richard Sludge, in answer, he hath so promised me, and if he break his word, it will be the worst for him. For let me take the bit between my teeth, and turn my head down hill, and I will shake him off with a fall that may harm his bones, and I shall not like much to hurt him, neither, said he. For the tiresome old fool has painfully labored to teach me all he could. But enough of that. Here are we at Weyland Smith's four-storey. You jest, my little friend, said Tressylian. Here is nothing but a bear moor in that ring of stones, with a great one in the midst like a Cornish barrel. I, and that great flat stone in the midst, which lies across the top of these uprights, said the boy, is Weyland Smith's counter, that you must tell down your money upon. What do you mean by such folly, said the traveller, beginning to be angry with the boy, and vexed with himself for having trusted such a hare-brained guy? Why, said Dickie with a grin, you must tie your horse to that upright stone that has the ring in it, and then you must whistle three times and lay me down your silver groat on that other flat stone. Walk out of the circle, sit down on the west side of that little thicket of bushes, and take heed you look neither to right nor to left for ten minutes, or so long as you shall hear the hammer clink, and, whenever it ceases, say your prayers for the space you could tell a hundred, or count over a hundred, which will do as well. And then come into the circle. You will find your money gone, and your horse shone. My money gone to a certainty, said Tresillian. But as for the rest, harking my lad, I am not your schoolmaster, but if you play off your waggery on me, I will take a part of his task off his hands and punish you the purpose. I, when you catch me, said the boy, and presently took to his heels across the heath, with a velocity which baffled every attempt of Tresillian to overtake him, loaded as he was with his heavy boots. Nor was it the least provoking part of the urgence conduct that he did not exert his utmost speed, like one who finds himself in danger, or who is frightened, but preserve just such a rate as to encourage Tresillian to continue the chase, and then darted away from him with the swiftness of the wind, when his pursuer supposed he had nearly run him down, doubling at the same time and whining, so as always to keep near the place from which he started. This last didn't tell Tresillian, from very weariness, stood still, and was about to abandon the pursuit, with the hardy curse on the ill-favored urchin, who had engaged him in an exercise so ridiculous, but the boy who had, as formerly, planted himself on the top of the hillock, close in front, began to clop his long, thin hands, point with his skinny fingers, and twist his wild and ugly features into such an extravagant expression of laughter and derision, that Tresillian began half to doubt whether he had not in view an actual hobgoblin, provoked extremely, yet at the same time feeling an irresistible desire to laugh, so very odd were the boy's grimaces and gesticulations. The Cornishman returned to his horse, and mounted him with the purpose of pursuing Dickey at more advantage. The boy no sooner saw him mount his horse, than he hollowed out to him, that rather than he should spoil his white-footed nag, he would come to him, on condition he would keep his fingers to himself. I will make no conditions with thee, thou ugly barlet, said Tresillian. I will have thee at my mercy in a moment. Ah, Master Traveller, said the boy, there is a marsh hard by me, would swallow all the horses of the Queen's Guard. I will into it, and see where you will go, then. You shall hear the bitter lump and the wild drake quack, ere you get hold of me without my consent, I promise you. Tresillian looked out, and, from the appearance of the ground, behind the hillock, believed it might be, as the boy said, and accordingly determined to strike up a peace with so light-footed and ready-witted an enemy. Come down, he said. Thou mischievous brat, leave thy mopping and mowing, and come hither. I will do thee no harm, as I am, a gentleman. The boy answered his invitation with the utmost confidence, and danced down from his stance with a galley-armed sort of step, keeping his eye at the same time, fixed on Tresillian's, who once more dismounted, strobe with his horse's bridle in his hand, breathless and half-exhausted with his fruitless exercise, though not one drop of moisture appeared on the freckled forehead of the urchin, which looked like a piece of dry and discolored parchment, drawn tight across the brow of a fleshless skull. And tell me, said Tresillian, why you use me thus, thou mischievous imp, or what your meaning is by telling me so absurd a legend as you wish but now to put on me? Or rather show me, good earnest, this myth's forge, and I will give thee what will buy the apples through the whole winter. Were you to give me an orchard of apples, said Dickie's Lodge, I can guide thee no better than I have done. Lay down the silver token on the flat stone, whistle three times, then come sit down on the western side of the thicket, of course. I will sit by you, and give you free leave to wring my head off, unless you hear the smith that work within two minutes after we are seated. I may be tempted to take thee at thy word, said Tresillian, if you make me do not have so ridiculous for your own mischievous sport. However, I will prove your spell. Here, then, I tie my horse to this upright stone. I must lay my silver groat here, and whistle three times, sayest thou? I, but thou must whistle louder than an un-fledged outsole, said the boy, as Tresillian, having laid down his money, and half ashamed of the folly he practised, made a careless whistle. You must whistle louder than that, for who knows where the smith is that you call for? He may be in the King of Francis stables for what I know. Why, you said but now he was no devil, replied Tresillian. Man or devil, said Dickie, I see that I must summon him for you. And therewithal he whistled sharp and shrill, with an acuteness of sound that almost thrilled through Tresillian's brain. That is what I call whistling, said he, after he had repeated the signal thrice. And now to cover, to cover, or whitefoot, will not be shot this day. Tresillian, using what the upshot of this murmuring was to be, yet satisfied there was to be some serious result, by the confidence with which the boy had put himself in his care, suffered himself to be conducted to that side of the little thicket of gorse, and brushwood, which was farthest from the circle of stones, and there sat down. And as it occurred to him that, after all, this might be a trick for stealing this horse, he kept his hand on the boy's collar, determined to make him hostage for it's safety. Now, hush and listen, said Dickie, in a low whisper, you will soon hear the tack of a hammer that was never forged of earthly iron, for the stone it was made of was shot from the moon. And in effect, Tresillian did immediately hear the light stroke of a hammer, as when a farrier is at work, the singularity of such a sound, in so very lowly a place, made him involuntarily start. But looking at the boy and discovering, by the arch malicious expression of his countenance, that the urchant saw and enjoyed his slight tremor, he became convinced that the whole was a concerted stratagem, and determined to know by whom, or for what purpose, the trick was played off. Accordingly, he remained perfectly quiet all the time that the hammer continued to sound, being about the space usually employed in fixing a horseshoe. But the instant the sound ceased, Tresillian, instead of interposing the space of time, which his guide had required, started up with his sword in his hand, ran round the thicket, and confronted a man in a farrier's leather napkin, but otherwise fantastically attired in a bearskin, dressed with the furon, and a cap of the same, which almost hid the sooty and the grime features of the wearer. Come back, come back, cried the boy to Tresillian, or you will be torn to pieces, no man lives that looks on him. In fact, the invisible smith, now fully visible, heaved up his hammer, and showed symptoms of doing battle. But when the boy observed that neither his owning treaties, nor the menaces of the farrier, appeared to change Tresillian's purpose, but that on the contrary he confronted the hammer with his drawn sword, he exclaimed to the smith in turn, Weyland, touch him not, or you will come by the worst. The gentleman is a true gentleman, and a bold. So thou hast betrayed me, liberty jubit, said the smith, it shall be the worst for thee. Be who thou wilt, said Tresillian, thou art in no danger for me. So thou tell me the meaning of this practice, and why thou dry this thy trade in this mysterious fashion. The smith, however, turning to Tresillian, exclaimed in a threatening tone. Who questions the keeper of the crystal castle of light? The lord of the green lion, the rider of the red dragon. Hence, avoid thee, ere I summon Talpak with his fiery lance, to quell, crush, and consume. These words he uttered with violent gesticulation, malvane and flourishing his hammer. He stow vile, cosener, with thy gypsy camp, replied Tresillian scornfully, and follow me to the next magistrate, or I will cut thee over the pate. Peace, I pray thee good-within, said the boy. Credit me, the swaggering vein will not pass here, but you must cut, boon winds. Readers note, give good words, slang dialect, and readers note. I think worshipful sir, said the smith, sinking his hammer, and assuming a more gentle and submissive tone of voice, that when so poor a man does his day's job, he might be permitted to work it out after his own fashion. Your horse is shod, and your ferry are paid. What need you come to yourself further than to mountain? Pursue your journey. Nay, friend, you are mistaken, replied Tresillian. Every man has a right to take the mask from the face of a cheat and a juggler, and your mode of living raises suspicion that you are both. If you are so determined, sir, said the smith, I cannot help myself, saved by force, which I weren't willing to use towards you, Master Tresillian, not that I fear your weapon, but because I know you to be a worthy, kind, and well-accomplished gentleman, who would rather help than harm a poor man, that is, in a strait. While said Wayland, said the boy, who had anxiously awaited the issue of their conference, but led us to thy den, man, for it is ill for thy health to stand here talking in the open air. Thou art right, Hobgoblin, replied the smith, and going to the little thicket of gorse on the side nearest to the circle, an opposite to that at which his customer had so lately crouched, he discovered a trap door, curiously covered with bushes, raised it, and descending into the earth, vanished from their eyes, notwithstanding Tresillian's curiosity. He had some hesitation at following the fellow into what might be a den of robbers, especially when he heard the smith's voice, issuing from the bowels of the earth, call out. Fiberty, give it. Do you come last, and be sure to fasten the trap? Have you seen enough of Wayland's smith now, whispered the urchin to Tresillian, with an arch-snear, as if marking his companions uncertainly? Not yet, said Tresillian, firmly, and shaking off his momentary irresolution, he descended into the narrow staircase, to which the entrance led, and was followed by Dickie Sludge, who made fast the trap door behind him, and thus excluded every glimmer of daylight. The descent, however, was only a few steps, and led to a level passage of a few yards length, at the end of which appeared the reflection of a lurid and red light. Arrived at this point, with his drawn sword in his hand, Tresillian found that a turn to the left admitted him and the Hong Goblin, who followed closely, into a small square vault containing a smith's forge, glowing with charcoal, the vapor of which filled the apartment with an oppressive smell, which would have been altogether suffocating, but that by some concealed vent the smithy communicated with the upper air. The light afforded by the red fuel and by a lamp suspended in an iron chain, served to show that, besides an anvil, there were also stows, olympics, crucibles, retorts, and other instruments of alchemy. The grotesque figure of the smith and the ugly but whimsical features of the boy, seen by the gloomy and imperfect light of the charcoal fire, and the dying lamp, accorded very well with all this mystical apparatus, which was, in fact, the most powerful and most powerful in the world. And the dying lamp, accorded very well with all this mystical apparatus, and in that age of superstition would have made some impression on the courage of most men. But nature had endowed Treslion with firm nerves, and his education, originally good, had been too senselessly improved by subsequent study to give way to any imaginary terrors. And after giving a glance around him, he again demanded of the artist who he was, and by what accident he came to know and address him by his name. Your worship cannot but remember, said the smith, that about three years since, upon St. Lucie's Eve, there came a traveling juggler to a certain hall in Devonshire, and exhibited his skill before a worshipful night and a fair company. I see from your worship's countenance, dark as this place is, that my memory has not done me wrong. Thou hast said enough, said Treslion, turning away, as wishing to hide from the speaker the painful train of recollections which his discourse had unconsciously awakened. The juggler, said the smith, played his part so bravely that the clowns and clown-like squires in the company held his art to be little less than magical. But there was one maiden of fifteen, or thereby, with the fairest face I ever looked upon, whose rosy cheek grew pale and her bright eyes dim at the sight of the wonder's exhibitant. Peace, I command thee, peace, said Treslion. I mean your worship, no offense, said the fellow, but I have caused to remember how, to relieve the unnaven spheres, you condescended to point out the mode in which these deceptions were practiced, and to baffle the poor juggler by laying bare the mysteries of his art, as ably as if you had been a brother of his order. She was indeed so fair a maiden that, to win the smile of her, a man might well. Not a word more of her, I charge thee, said Treslion. I do well remember the night you speak of. One of the few happy evenings my life is known. She is gone, then, said the smith, interpreting, after his own fashion, the sigh with which Treslion uttered these words. She is gone, young, beautiful, and beloved as she was. I crave your worships, pardon. I should have hammered on another theme. I see have unwarily driven the nail to the quick. The speech was made with a mixture of mood-feeling which inclined Treslion favorably to the poor artisan, of whom before he was inclined to judge very harshly. For nothing can so soon attract the unfortunate as real or obscene sympathy with their sorrows. I think, proceeded Treslion, after a minute's silence, thou word in those days a jovial fellow who could keep a company merry by song and tale and rebeck, as well as by the juggling tricks. Why do I find thee a laborious, handicraftsman, applying thy training so melancholy and dwelling in such extraordinary circumstances? My story is not long, said the artist, but your honor had better sit while you listen to it. So sane, he approached to the fire, a three-footed stool, and took another himself. While Dickie's Lodge, or Liberty Give It, as he called the boy, drew a cricket to the Smith's feet, and looked up in his face with features which, as illuminated by the glow of the forge, seemed convulsed with intense curiosity. Thou, too, said the Smith to him, shalt learn, as thou well-deserviced at my hand, the brief history of my life. And in truth it were as well tell it thee, as leave thee, to ferret it out, since nature never packed a shrewd or wit into a more ungainly casket. While, sir, if my poor story may pleasure you, it is at your command, but you not taste a stoop of liquor. I promise you that even in this poor cell I have some in store. Speak not of it, said Treslion, but go on with thy story, for my leisure is brief. You shall have no cause to rue the delay, said the Smith, for your whore shall be better fed in the meantime than he hath been this morning, and made fitter for travel. With that the artist left the bolt, and returned after a few minutes' interval. Here also we pause, that the narrative may commence in another chapter. End CHAPTER X CHAPTER XI. I say, my lord, can such a subtlety, but all his craft ye must not want to me, and somewhat help by yet to his working, that all the ground on which we bend riding, till that we come to Canterbury town, he can all clean turnin' so up, so down, and pave it all of silver and of gold. THE CANONS YEOMEN'S PROLOG Canterbury Tales The artist commenced his narrative in the following terms. I was bred a blacksmith, and knew my art as well as era-black-thumbed, leather-naprined, swart-faced-nave of that noble mystery. But I tired of ringing hammer-tunes on iron stithes, and went out into the world, where I became acquainted with a celebrated juggler whose fingers had become rather too stiff for the gerendemen, and who wished to have the aid of an apprentice in his noble mystery. I served him for six years, until I was master of my train. I refer myself to your worship, whose judgment cannot be disputed, whether I did not learn to ply the craft indifferently well. Excellently, said Tresselian, but be brief. It was not long after I had performed at Sir Hugh Robbs' Arts in your worship's presence, said the artist, that I took myself to the stage and have swackered with the bravest of them all, both at the black bull, the globe, the fortune, and elsewhere. But I know not how, apples were so plenty that year, that the lads in the two-penny gallery never took more than one bite out of them, and threw the rest of the pippin at whatever act or chance to be on the stage. So I tired of it, renounced my half-share in the company, gave my foil to my comrade, my buskins to the wardrobe, and showed the theatre a clean pair of heels. Well, friend, and what, said Tresselian, was your next shift. I became, said the smith, half-partner, half-domestic to a man of much skill and little substance, who practiced the trade of a physicianer. In other words, said Tresselian, you reject pudding to a quacksawler. Something beyond that, let me hope, my good master, Tresselian, replied the artist, and yet to say truth, our practice was of an adventurous description, and the pharmacy which I had acquired in my first studies for the benefit of horses was frequently applied to our human patience, but the seeds of all maladies are the same, and if turpentine, tar, pitch, and beef-suit, mingled with turmeric, gummastic, and one bead of garlic, can cure the horse that hath been grieved with a nail, I see not but what it may benefit the man that hath been pricked with a sword. But my master's practice, as well as his skill, went far beyond mine, and dealt with more dangerous concerns. He was not only a bold, adventurous practitioner in physics, but also, if your pleasure is so chance to be, an adept, who read the stars and expounded the fortunes of mankind, jenithliacly, as he called it, or otherwise. He was a learned distiller of symbols and a profound chemist, made several efforts to fix mercury, and judged himself to have made a fair hit at the philosopher's stone. I have yet a program of his on that subject, which, if your honor understandeth, I believe you have the better, not only of all who read, but also of him who wrote it. He gave Triselyan a school of parchment, burying at top and bottom, and down the margin, the signs of the seven planets, curiously intermingled with talismanical characters and scraps of Greek and Hebrew. It amidst were some Latin verses from a cabalistical author, written out so fairly, that even the gloom of the place do not prevent Triselyan from reading them. The tenor of the original ran as follows. I protest to you, said Triselyan, all I understand of this jargon is that the last word seemed to mean catch who catch can. That, said the Smith, is the very principle that my worthy friend and master, Dr. Dabubi, always acted upon, until being besotted with his own imaginations and conceited of his high chemical skill. He began to spend in cheating himself the money which he had acquired in cheating others, and either discovered or built for himself, I could never know which, the secret, a laboratory, in which he used to seclude himself both from patients and disciples, who doubtless thought his long and mysterious absences from his ordinary residence in the town of Farringdon, were occasioned by his progress in the mystic sciences, and his intercourse with the invisible world. Me also he tried to deceive, but though I contradicted him somewhat, he saw that I knew too much of his secrets to be any longer a safe companion. Meanwhile, his name waxed famous, or rather infamous, and many of those who resorted to him did so under persuasion that he was a sorcerer, and yet his supposed advance in the occult sciences drew to him the secret resort of men too powerful to be named, for purposes too dangerous to be mentioned. He then cursed and threatened him, and bestowed on me the innocent assistant of his studies the nickname of the Devil's Footpost, which procured me a ballie of stones as soon as ever I ventured to show my face in the street of the village. At length my master suddenly disappeared, pretending to me that he was about to visit his e-laboratory in this place, and forbidding me to disturb him till two days were passed. When this period had elapsed, I became anxious, and resorted to this vault, where I found the fires extinguished and the utensils in confusion, with a note from the learned dubuvious, as he was want to style himself, acquainting me that we should never meet again. The queething me his chemical apparatus, and the parchment which I have just put into your hands, advising me strongly to prosecute the secret which it contained, which would infallibly lead me to the discovery of the Grand Magisterium. And it's thou follow this sage advice, said Tressylian. Worshipful sir, no, replied the Smith. For being by nature cautious, and suspicious from knowing with whom I had to do, I made so many perquisitions, before I ventured even to light a fire, that I at length discovered a small barrel of gunpowder, carefully hid beneath the furnace, with the purpose no doubt that as soon as I should commence the grand work of the transmutation of metals, the explosion should transmute the vault and all in it into a heap of ruins, which might serve at once for my slaughterhouse and my grave. This cured me of alchemy. And Fain would I have returned to the honest hammer and anvil, but who would bring a horse to be shod by the devil's post? At one time I had won the regard of my honest Fiberty Gibbon here. He being then at Farrington with his master, the sage Erasmus Holiday, by teaching him a few secrets, such as please youth at his age, and after much counsel together, we agreed that since I could get no practice in the ordinary way, I should try how I could work out business among these ignorant boars, by practicing upon their silly fears. And thanks to Fiberty Gibbon, who hath spread my renown, I have not wanted custom. But it is one at too great risk, and I fear I shall be at length taken up for wizard. So that I seek but an opportunity to leave this vault, when I can have the protection of some worshipful person against the fury of the populace, in case they chance to recognize me. An art thou, said Tresselion, perfectly acquainted with the roads in this country. I could ride them every inch by midnight. Answered Weyland Smith, which was the name this adept had assumed. Thou hast no horse to ride upon, said Tresselion. Pardon me, replied Weyland. I have as good a tit as every Yaleman bestowed, and I forgot to say it was the best part of the medicineer's legacy to me, excepting one or two of the choicest of his medical secrets, which I picked up without his knowledge and against his will. Give thyself washed and shaved then, said Tresselion, reform thy dress as well as thou canst, and fling away these grotesque trappings. And so thou wilt be secret and faithful, thou shalt follow me for short time, till thy pranks here are forgotten. Thou hast, I think, both address encourage, and I have matter to do that may require both. Weyland Smith eagerly embraced the proposal and protested his devotion to his new master. In a very few minutes he had made so great an alteration in his original appearance, by a change of dress, trimming his beard and hair and so forth, that Tresselion could not help remarking that he thought he would stand in little need of a protector, since none of his old acquaintance were likely to recognize him. My debtors would not pay me money, said Weyland, shaking his head, but my creditors of every kind would be less easily blinden. And in truth I hold myself not safe, unless under the protection of a gentleman of birth and character, as is your worship. So saying, he led the way out of the cavern. He then called Lally, for Hobgoblin, who, after lingering for an instant, appeared with the horse's furniture, when Weyland closed and, sedulously, covered up the trapdoor, observing it might again serve him at his need, besides that the tools were worth somewhat. A whistle from the owner brought to his side a nag that fed quietly on the common, and was accustomed to the signal. While he accoutered him for the journey, Tresselion drew his own girth's titer, and in a few minutes both were ready to mount. At this moment's ludge approached to bid them farewell. You're going to leave me then, my old playfellow, said the boy. And there is an end of all our game at Bo Peep, with a cowardly lover's, whom I brought hither, to have their broad footed nags shed by the devil and his imps. It is even so, said Weyland Smith. The best friends must part, so pretty given. But thou, my boy, art the only thing in the Vale of White Horse, which I shall regret to leave behind me. Well, I bid thee not farewell, said Dickie's Lunge. For you will be at these rebels I judge, and so shall I. For if Dominique Holliday take me not thither, by the light of day, which we see not in yonder dark hole, I will take myself there. In good time, said Weyland, but I pray you to do not rushly. Nay, now you would make me a child, a common child of me, and tell me of the risk of walking without leaning strings. But before you are a mile from these stones, you shall know by a sure token that I have more of the hobgoblin about me than you credit. And I will so manage that if you take advantage. You may profit by my prank. What does thou mean, boy, said Tresselian? But Fluority Gibbet only answered with a grin and a caper, and bidding both of them farewell, and at the same time exhorting them to make the best of their way from the place. He set them the example by running homeward with the same uncommon velocity with which he had baffled Tresselian's former attempts to get hold of him. It is in vain to chase him, said Weyland Smith, for unless your worship is expert in lark hunting we should never catch hold of him. And besides, what would it avail? Better make the best of our way hence, as he advises. They mounted their horses accordingly and began to proceed at a round pace as soon as Tresselian had explained to his guide the direction in which he desired to travel. They had trod it nearly a mile, Tresselian could not help observing to his companion that his horse felt more lively under him than even when he mounted in the morning. Are you advised of that? said Weyland Smith, smiling. That is owing to a little secret of mine. I mix that with a handful of oats, which shall save your worship's heels the trouble of spurring these six hours at least. Ine, I've not studied medicine and pharmacy for naught. I trust that, Tresselian, your drax will do my horse no harm. No more than the mare's milk, which fooled him. Answered the artist and was proceeding to dilate on the excellence of his recipe, when he was interrupted by an explosion as loud and tremendous as the mine which blows up the rampart of a beleaguered city. The horses started and the riders were equally surprised. They turned to gaze in the direction from which the thunderclap was heard, and beheld, just over the spot they had left so recently, a huge pillar of dark smoke rising high into the clear, blue atmosphere. My habitation has gone to wreck, said Weyland, immediately conjecturing the cause of the explosion. I was a fool to mention the doctor's kind intentions towards my mansion, before that limb of mischief, flippity give it. I might have guessed he would long to put so rare a frolic in new execution, but let us hasten on, for the sound will collect the country to the spot. So sane he spurred his horse, and Tresselian also quickening the speed, they rode briskly forward. This, then, was the meaning of the little imp's token which he promised us, said Tresselian. Had we lingered in the spot, we had found it a love token with the Vendance. He would have given us warning, said the Smith. I saw him look back more than once to see if we were off. Tis a very devil for mischief, yet not an ill-natured devil, either. It would long to tell your honour how I became first acquainted with him, and how many tricks he played me. Many a good turn he did me to, especially in bringing me customers. For his great delight was to see them sit, shivery behind the bushes, when they heard the click of my hammer. I think dame nature, when she lodged a double quantity of brains in that misshapen head of his, gave him the power of enjoying other people's distresses, as she gave them the pleasure of laughing at his ugliness. It may be so, said Tresselian. Those who find themselves severed from society by peculiarities of form, if they do not hate the common bulk of mankind, are at least not altogether indisposed to enjoy their mishaps and calamities. But Slipperygibbet, answered Weyland, hath that about him which may redeem his turn for mischievous frolic, for he is faithful when attached, as he is tricky and malignant to strangers. And as I said before, I have cause to say so. They pursued the conversation no further, and they continued their journey towards Devonshire without further adventure, until they alighted at an inn in the town of Marlborough, since celebrated for having given title to the greatest general, excepting one, whom Britain ever produced. Here the travelers received, in the same breath, an example of the truth of two old proverbs, namely, that ill news flies fast, and that listeners seldom hear a good tale of themselves. The innyard was in a sort of combustion when they alighted, in so much that they could scarce get man or boy to take care of their horses, so full were the whole household of some news which flew from tongue to tongue, the import of which they were for some time unable to discover. At length indeed they found it respected matters which touched them nearly. What is the matter, say you master? answered at length, the head hustler, in reply to Tressillian's repeated questions. Why, truly, I scarce know myself, but here was a writer but now who says that the devil hath flown away with him, they called Wayland Smith, that wand'd about three miles from the white horrors of Berkshire, this very blessed morning, in a flash of fire and a pillar of smoke, and rooted up the place he dwelt in, near the old cockpit of upright stones, as cleanly as if it had all been delved up for a cropping. Why, then, said an old farmer, the more is the pity, for that Wayland Smith, whether he was the devil's crony, or no, I skill not, had a good notion of horses' diseases, and it's to be thought the bots will spread in the country far and near, and Satan is not given on time to leave a secret behind him. You may say that, gaffer grimes me, said the hustler in return. I have carried a horse to Wayland Smith myself, for he passed off arrears in this country. Did you see him? said Dame Alison Crane, mistress of the inn bearing that sign, endaining to term husband the owner thereof. A mean-looking, hop of my thumb sort of person, whose halting gait and long neck and meddling, hand-packed insignificance, are supposed to have given origin to the celebrated old English tune of My Dame Had the Lame Tame Crane. On this occasion he chirped out a repetition of his wife's question. Did see the devil, Jack Costler, I say. And what if I did see an master, Crane? replied Jack Costler, for, like all the rest of the household, he paid his little respect to his master as his mistress, herself did. Nay, not, Jack Costler, replied the Pacific master, Crane. Only if you saw the devil, me thinks I would like to know what uns like. You will know that one day, master Crane, said his helpmate, and you mend not your manners and mind your business, leaving off such idle palabras. But truly, Jack Costler, I should be glad to know myself what like the fellow was. Why, Dame, said the Hostler, more respectfully, ask for what he was like I cannot tell, nor no man else, for why I never saw him. And how did thou get thine errand done? said Gaffer, grimes me, if thou seedest him not. Why, I had school master, to write down ailment and ag, said Jack Costler, and I went with the ugly slip of a boy for my guide, as ever men cut out a lime tree-root to please a child with all. And what was it? And did it cure your nag, Jack Costler? Was uttered and echoed by all who stood around. Why, how can I tell you what it was? said the Hostler. Simply it smelled and tasted, for I did make bold to put a pea substance into my mouth, like heart-shorne and saven mixed with vinegar. But then no heart-shorne and saven ever wrought so speedy or cure, and I am dreading that if Wayland Smith be gone, the bots will have more power over horse and cattle. The pride of art, which is certainly not inferior in its influence to any other pride, whatever, here so far operated on Wayland Smith that, notwithstanding the obvious danger of his being recognized, he could not help winking to Dresselian and smiling mysteriously as if triumphing in the undoubted evidence of his veterinary skill. In the meanwhile the discourse continued. In let it be so, said a grave man in black, the companion of Gaffer grimes me, in let us perish under the evil God sends us, rather than the devil be our doctor. Very true, said Dame Crane, and I marvel at Jack Costler that he would peril his own soul to cure the bowels of a nag. Very true, mistress, said Jack Costler, but the nag was my masters, and had it been yours, I think you would have held me cheaper now, and I had feared the devil when the poor beast was in such a taking. For the rest, let the clergy look to it. Every man to his craft says the proverb, the parson to the prayer-book, and the groom to his curry-comb. I vow, said Dame Crane, I think Jack Costler speaks like a good Christian and a faithful servant who will spare neither body nor soul in his master's service. However, the devil has lifted him in time, for Constable of the Hundred came hither this morning to get old Gaffer pinning-winks, the trier of witches, to go with him to the Vale of White Horse to comprehend Whelan Smith, and put him to his probation. I helped pinning-winks to sharpen his pincers and his poking all, and I saw the warrant from Justice Blindus. Poo-poo! The devil would laugh both at Blindus and his warrant, Constable and which finder to boot, said old Dame Crane, the paper's laundress. Whelan Smith's flesh, when mine pinning-winks all, no more than a camber gruff, mines a hut, pick a dill o' needle. But tell me, gentle folks, if the devil ever had such a hand among ye, as to snatch away your smiths and your artists from under your nose, when the good abbots of Abondon had their own. Why, our lady, no. They had their hallowed tapers, and their holy water, and their relics, and what not, could send the phallus fiends a-packing. Go ask a heretic person to do the like. But ours were a comfortable people. Very true, Dame Crane. Said the Hossler. So said Simpkins of Simonburn, when the curate kissed his wife. They are a comfortable people, said he. Silence, thou foul-mouthed firman, said Dame Crane. Is it fit for a heretic horse-boy like thee to handle such a text as the Catholic clergy? In truth, no, Dame, replied the man of votes. And as you yourself are now to text for their handling, Dame, whatever may have been the case in your day, I think we had even better leave on alone. And this last exchange of sarcasm, Dame Crane, said a perth-wrote, and began a horrible exclamation against Jack Hossler, under cover of which Tresselian and his attendant escaped into the house. They had no sooner entered a private chamber to which Goodman Crane himself had condescended to usher them, and dispatched their worthy and obsequious host on the errand of procuring wine and refreshment, than William Smith began to give vent to his self-importance. You see, sir, said he, addressing Tresselian, that I nothing fabled in asserting that I possessed fully the mighty mystery of a farrier, or Marachal, as the Frenchmore honourably term us. These dog-hostlers, who, after all, are the better judges in such a case, know what credit they should attach to my medicaments. I call you to witness, worshipful Master Tresselian, that not save the voice of Calumny and the hand of malicious violence hath driven me forth from the station in which I held a place alike useful and honoured. I bear witness, my friend, but will reserve my listening, answered Tresselian, for a safer time, unless indeed you deem it essential to your reputation to be translated, like your late dwelling, by the assistance of a flash of fire. For you see your best friends reckon you know better than a mere sorcerer. Now, heaven forgive them, said the artist, who confounded learned skill with unlawful magic. I trust a man may be as skillful, or more so, than the best chiragin ever meddled with horse-flesh, and yet may be, upon the matter, little more than other ordinary men, or at the worst, no conjurer. God forbid else, said Tresselian, but be silent just for the present, since here comes my host with an assistant who seems something of the least. Everybody about the inn, Dame Crane herself included, had been indeed so interested and agitated by the story they had heard of Weyland Smith, and by the new varying and more marvelous additions of the incident, which arrived from various quarters, that my host, in his righteous determination to accommodate his guest, had been able to obtain the assistance of none of his household, saving that of a little boy, a junior topster, of about twelve years old, who was called Samson. I wish, he said, apologizing to his guest, as he sat down a flag in a sack, and promised some food immediately. I wish the devil had flown away with my wife and my whole family instead of the Weyland Smith, who, I dare say, after all said and done, was much less worthy of the distinction which Satan has done him. I hold opinion with you, good fellow," replied Weyland Smith, and I will drink to you upon that argument. Not that I would justify any man who deals with the devil, said my host, after having pledged Weyland in a rousing draft of sack, but that, saw ye ever better sack my masters? But that, I say, a man had better deal with a dozen cheats and scoundrel fellows, such as this Weyland Smith, than with the devil incarnate that takes possession of house and home, bed, and board. The poor fellow's detail of grievances was here interrupted by the shrill voice of his helpmate, screaming from the kitchen, to which he instantly hobbled, craving pardon of his guest. He was no sooner gone than Weyland Smith expressed by every contemptuous epithet in the language his utter scorn for an income poop, who stuck his head under his wife's apron string, and intimated that saving for the sake of the horses, which required both rest and food, he would advise his worshipful master trestlean to push on a stage farther, rather than pay a reckoning to such a mean-spirited, crow-trodden, hen-pecked cox-cum as gaffer-crain. The arrival of a large dish of good cow-heel and bacon, nothing sued the asperity of the artist, which wholly vanished before a choice capon. So delicately roasted that the lard frothed on it, said Weyland, like May-Doo on a lily. And both gaffer-crain and his good dame became, in his eyes, very painstaking, accommodating, obliging persons. According to the manners of the times, the master and his attendant sat at the same table, and the latter observed, with regret, how little attention trestling in pain to his meal. He recollected, indeed, the pain he had given by mentioning the maiden in whose company he had first seen him, but fearful of touching upon a topic too tender to be tampered with, he chose to ascribe his abstinence to another cause. "'This fares perhaps too coarse for your worship,' said Weyland, as the limbs of the capon disappeared before his own exertions. But had you dwelt as long as I have done in yonder dungeon, which fliberty gibbet has translated to the upper element, a place where I dared hardly broil my food, lest the smoke should be seen without, you would think a fair capon a more welcome dainty. If you are pleased, friends, such rustling, it is well, nevertheless hasten thy meal if thou canst, for this place is unfriendly to thy safety, and my concerns crave travelling. Allowing therefore their horses no more rest than was absolutely necessary for them, they pursued their journey, by a forced march, as far as Bradford, where they reposed themselves for the night. The next morning found them early travellers, and not to fatigue the reader with unnecessary particulars. They traversed without adventure the counties of Wiltshire and Somerset, and about noon, of the third day after Trestlain's leaving Comner, arrived at Sir Hugh Robb's Art's seat, called Lidcote Hall, on the frontiers of Devonshire, and Chapter 11, Chapter 12 of Kenilworth. This leaper box recording is in the public domain. The ancient seat of Lidcote Hall was situated near the village of the same name, and adjoined the wild and extensive forest of Exmoor, plentifully stalked with game, in which some ancient rites belonging to the Robesart family, and the ancient house of Lidcote Hall, plentifully stalked with game, in which some ancient rites belonging to the Robesart family, entitled Sir Hugh, to pursue his favourite amusement of the chase. The old mansion was a low, venerable building, occupying a considerable space of ground, which was surrounded by a deep moat. The approach and drawbridge were defended by an octagonal tower of ancient brickwork, but so clothed with ivy and other creepers that it was difficult to discover of what materials it was constructed. The angles of this tower were each decorated with the turret, whimsically various in form and in size, and therefore very unlike the monotonous stone pepper boxes, which in modern Gothic architecture are employed for the same purpose. One of these turrets was square and occupied as a clockhouse, but the clock was now standing still. A circumstance, peculiarly striking to Tressylian, because the good old knight, among other harmless peculiarities, had a fidgety anxiety about the exact measurement of time, very common to those who have a great deal of that commodity to dispose of, and find it lie heavy upon their hands, just as we see shopkeepers amuse themselves with taking an exact account of their stock at the time there is least demand for it. The entrance to the courtyard of the old mansion lay through an archway surmounted by the four-set tower. But the drawbridge was down and one leaf of the iron-studded folding doors stood carelessly open. Tressylian hastily rode over the drawbridge, entered the court, and began to call loudly on the domestics by their names. For some time he was only answered by the echoes and the howling of the hounds, whose kennel lay at no great distance from the mansion, and was surrounded by the same moat. At length, Will Badger, the old and favored attendant of the knight, who acted alike a squire of his body and super attendant of his sports, made his appearance. The stout, weather-beaten forester, showed great signs of joy when he recognized Tressylian. Lord, love you, he said. Master Edmund, be it thou in flesh and fell. Then thou mayest do some good on Sir Hugh, for it passes the wit of man, that is of mine own, and the curates, and Master Mum Blazins, to do ought with him. Is Sir Hugh, then, worse since I went away, Will? demanded Tressylian. For worse in body, no, he is much better, replied the domestic. But he is clean maised, as it were, eats and drinks as he was want, but sleeps not, or rather wakes not, for he is ever in a sort of twilight that is neither sleeping nor waking. Dame Swineford thought it was like the dead palsy. But no, no, Dame said I, it is the heart, it is the heart. Can ye not stir his mind to any pastimes? said Tressylian. He is clean and quite off his sports, said Will Badger, hath neither touched backgammon or shovel-board, nor looked on the big book of heritry with Master Mum Blazin. I let the clock run down, thinking the missing the bell might somewhat move him, for, you know, Master Edmund, he was particular in counting time. But never said a word on it, so I may even set the old Chima tolling in again. I made bold to tread on Mungay's tail, too, and you know it around raiding, that would cost me once a day. But he minded the poor tyke's wine no more than a madge howlet whooping down the chimney, so the case is beyond me. Thou shalt tell me the rest within door as well. Meanwhile, let this person be taken to the buttery and used with respect. He is a man of art. White art or black art, I would, said Will Badger, that he had any art which could help us. Here Tom Butler looked to the man of art, and see that he stills none of thy spoons lad. He added in a whisper to the Butler, who shone himself at a low window. I have known his honest to face fellow, have art enough to do that. He then ushered Tressylian into a low parlor, and went at his desire to see in what state his master was, lest the senate return of his darling pupil and proposed son-in-law should affect him too strongly. He returned immediately and said that Sir Hugh was dozing in his elbow-chair, but that master Mum Blazin would equate Master Tressylian the instant he awaked. But it is chance, if he knows you, said the Huntsman, for he has forgotten the name of every hound in the pack. I thought about a week since he had gotten a favourable turn. Savilly old Sorrel, said he suddenly, after he had taken his usual night-draft out of the Great Silver Grace-Cub, and take the hounds to Mount Hazelhurst tomorrow. Glad men were we all, and out we had him in the morning, and he rode to cover as usual, with never a word spoken but that the wind was south, and the scent would lie. But ere we in uncoupled the hounds, he began to stare around him like a man that wakes suddenly out of a dream, turns bridal and walks back to Hull again, and leaves us to hunt at leisure by ourselves, if we listen. You tell a heavy tale, Will, replied Tressylian, but God must help us, there is no aid in man. Then you bring us no news of young Mr. Zamy, but what can I ask? Your brow tells the story. Ever I hope that if any man could or would track her, it must be you. All's over and lost now, but if ever I have that Varney within reach of a flight-shot, I will bestow a forked shaft on him, and that I swear by salt and bread. As he spoke, the door opened, and Master Mumblazin appeared, a withered, thin, elderly gentleman, with a cheek like a winter apple, and his grey hair, partly concealed by a small high hat, shaped like a cone, or rather like such a strawberry basket, as London fruiterers exhibit at their windows. He was too sententious a person to waste words on mere salutation, so having welcomed Tressylian with a nod and a shake of the hand, he beckoned him to follow to Sir Hugh's great chamber, which the good night usually inhabitant. Will Badger followed, unasked, anxious to see whether his master would be relieved from the state of apathy by the arrival of Tressylian. In a long, low parlor, amply furnished with implements of the chase, and with silver trophies, by a massive stone chimney, over which hung a sword and suit of armor, somewhat obscured by neglect. Set Sir Hugh ropes art of Lidcote, a man of large size, which had been only kept within moderate compass by the constant use of violent exercise. It seemed to Tressylian that the lethargy, under which his old friend appeared to labour, had, even during his few weeks absence, added bulk to his person. At least it had obviously diminished the vivacity of his eye, which, as they entered, first followed Master Mum Blazen slowly to a large open desk, on which a ponderous volume lay open, and then rested, as if in uncertainty, on the stranger who had entered along with him. The curate, a grey-headed clergyman who had been a confessor in the days of Queen Mary, sat with a book in his hand and another recess in the apartment. He too signed a mournful greeting to Tressylian and laid his book aside to watch the effect his appearance should produce on the afflicted old man. As Tressylian, his own eyes filling fast with tears, approached more and more nearly to the father of his betrothed bride, Sir Hugh's intelligence seemed to revive. He sighed heavily, as one who awakens from the state of stupor, as like convulsion passed over his features. He opened his arms without speaking a word, and as Tressylian threw himself into them, he folded him to his bosom. There is something left to live for yet, were the first words he uttered, and while he spoke he gave vent to his feelings in a proxism of weeping, the tears chasing each other down his sunburnt cheeks and long white beard. I never thought to have thanked God to see my master weep, said Wool Badger, but now I do, though I'm like to weep for company. I will ask thee no questions, said the old knight, no questions, none, Edmund. Thou hast not found her, or so found her, that she were better lost. Tressylian was unable to reply otherwise than by putting his hands before his face. It is enough, it is enough, but do not thou weep for her, Edmund. I have caused to weep, for she was my daughter. Thou hast caused to rejoice that she did not become thy wife. Great God, thou knowest best what is good for us. It was my nightly prayer that I should see Amy and Edmund wedded. Had it been granted, it had now been gall-added to bitterness. Be comforted, my friend, said the curate, addressing Sir Hugh, it cannot be that the daughter of all her hopes and affections is the vile creature you would bespeak her. Oh, no, replied Sir Hugh impatiently. I were wrong to name broadly the base thing she's become. There is some new court name for it, I warn't me. It is honour enough for the daughter of an old Devoncher clown to be the layman of the gay courtier of Varney, too, of Varney, whose grand sire was relieved by my father when his fortune was broken at the battle of, where Richard was slain, out all my memory, and I warn't none of you will help me. The battle of Wowsworth, said Master Mumblazin, stricken between Richard Crookback and Henry Tudor, grand sire of the queen that now is Primo Enrique Septimi, and in the year 1485, post Christum Natum, I, even so, said the old knight, every child knows it, but my poor head forgets all it should remember, and remembers only what it would most willingly forget. My brain has been at fault, Tresselian, almost ever since though it's been away, and even yet it hunts counter. Your worship, said the good clergyman, have I to retire to your apartment and try to sleep for a little space? The physician left a composing draft, and our great physician has commanded us to use earthly means, that we may be strengthened to sustain the trials he sends us. True, true old friend, said Sir Hugh, and we will bear our trials manfully. We have lost but a woman. See, Tresselian, he drew from his bosom a long ringlet of glossy hair. See this lock. I tell the Edmund, the very night she disappeared, when she bid me good even, as she was wont. She hung about my neck and fondled me more than usual, and I, like an old fool, held her by this lock, until she took her scissors, severed it, and left it in my hand. As all I was ever to see more of her. Tresselian was unable to reply, while judging what a complication of feelings must have crossed the bosom of the unhappy fugitive at that cruel moment. The clergyman was about to speak, but Sir Hugh interrupted him. I know what you would say, Master Curit, after all it is but a lock of woman's tresses, and by woman, shame and sin and death, came into an innocent world. And learned Master Mumblasen too can say scholarly things of their inferiority. So, said Master Mumblasen, kiseba ekikon sen. True, said Sir Hugh, and we will bear us therefore, like men who have both metal and wisdom in us. Tresselian, thou art as welcome as if thou hast brought better news, but we have spoken too long, dry-lipped. Amy, fill a cup of wine to admin and another to me. Then instantly recollecting that all upon her, who could not hear, he shook his head and said to the clergyman, this grief is to my bewildered mind what the Church of Lidcote is to our park. We may lose ourselves among the briars and thickets for a little space, but from the end of each avenue we see the old grey steeple and the grave of my forefathers. I would, I were to travel that road to-morrow. Tresselian and the Curit were urging the exhaustive old man to lay himself to rest and at length prevailed. Tresselian remained by his pillow till he saw that slumber at length sunk down on him and then returned to consult with the Curit what steps should be adopted in these unhappy circumstances. They could not exclude from these deliberations Master Michael Mumblazin and they admitted him the more readily, that besides what hopes they entertained the city, they knew him to be so great a friend to task eternity and there was no doubt of his keeping counsel. He was an old bachelor of good family, but small fortune and distantly related to the house of Robesart. In virtue of which connection Lidcote Hall had been honored with his residence for the last twenty years. His company was agreeable to Sir Hugh, chiefly on account of his profound learning which though it only related to heraldry and genealogy with such graphs of history as connected themselves with these subjects was precisely of a kind to captivate the good old knight. Besides the convenience which he found in having a friend to appeal to when his own memory as frequently happened proved infirm and played him false concerning names and dates which and all similar deficiencies Master Michael Mumblazin supplied with a due brevity and discretion. And indeed in matters concerning the modern world he often gave in his enigmatic on heraldic phrase advice which was well worth attending to or in Will Badger's language started a game while others beat the bush. We've had an unhappy time of it with the good knight Master Edmund said the curate so much since I was torn away from my beloved flock and compelled to abandon them to the Romish wolves that was interchio Mariae said Master Mumblazin in the name of heaven continue the curate tell us has your time been better spent than ours or have you any news of that unhappy maiden who being for so many years the principal joy of this broken down house is now proved our greatest happiness have you not at least discovered her place of residence I have replied Treslean know you come to a place near Oxford surely said the clergyman it was a house of removal for the monks of Abingdon whose arms said Master Michael I have seen over a stone chimney in the hall across the taunts betwixt four martlets there said Treslean this unhappy maiden resides in company with the villain Marnie but for a strange mishap my sword had revenged all our injuries as well as hers on his worthless head thank God that kept thine hand from blood guiltiness rash young man answered the curate vengeance is mine sayeth the lord and I will repay it it were better steady to free her from the villain's nets of infamy they are called in heraldry Lockway Amoris or locked moor send mum liaison it isn't that I require your aid my friends said Treslean I resolved to accuse this villain at the very foot of the throne of falsehood, seduction and breach of hospitable laws the queen shall hear me though the Earl of Lester the villain's patron stood at her right hand her grace said the curate hath said a comely example of continence to her subjects and will doubtless do justice on this inhospitable robber but were thou not better apply to the Earl of Lester in the first place for justice on his servant if he grants it thou dost save the risk of making thyself a powerful adversary which will certainly chance if in the first instance you accuse his master of the horse and prime favourite before the queen my mind revolts from your council said Treslean I cannot brook to plead my noble patron's cause before anyone save my lawful sovereign Lester, thou wilt say is noble be it so he is but a subject like ourselves and I will not carry my plank to him if I can do better in what thou hast said but it must have your assistance to persuade the good Sir Hugh to make me his commissioner and fiduciary in this matter for it is in his name I must speak and not in my own since she is so far changed as to doad upon this empty profligate courtier he shall at least do her the justice which is yet in his power better she died co-lebs in Suna Prola with more animation than he usually expressed then part per Pala the noble coat of robesart with that of such a misgrant if it be your object as I cannot question said the clergyman to save as much as is yet possible the credit of this unhappy young woman I repeat you should apply in the first instance to the Earl of Lester he is as absolute in his household as the queen in her kingdom and if he expresses to Barney that such is his pleasure her honor will not stand so publicly committed you are right you are right said Tresillian eagerly and I thank you for pointing out what I overlooked in my haste a little thought ever to a basalt grace of Lester but I could kneel to the proud Dudley if doing so could remove one shade of shame from this unhappy damsel you will assist me then to procure the necessary powers from Sir Hugh Robesart the cured assured him of his assistance and the herald not a dissent you must hold yourselves also in readiness to testify in case you are called upon the open hearted hospitality which our good patron exercised towards this deceitful trader and the solicitude with which he labored to seduce his unhappy daughter at first said the clergyman she did not as it seemed to me much affect his company but laterally I saw them often together sale in the parlor said Michael mum Blaisen and Possant in the garden I once came on them by chance said the priest in the south wood in the spring evening Barney was muffled in a russet cloak so that I saw not his face they separated hastily as they heard me rustle amongst the leaves and I observed she turned her head and looked long after him with neck regward on said the herald and on the day of her flight and that was on St. Austen's eve I saw Barney's groom attired in his liveries hold his master's horse and Mr. Saini's palfrey bridled and saddled proper behind the wall of the church yard and now she found mewed up in a secret place of retirement said Tresselian the villain is taken in the manner and I well wish he may deny his crime that I may thrust conviction down his false throat but I must prepare for my journey do you gentlemen dismiss my patron to grant me such powers as are needful to act in his name so saying Tresselian left the room he is too hot said the curate and I pray to God that he may grant him the patience to deal with Barney as is fitting patience and Barney is worse heraldry than meadow upon meadow he's more false than the siren more rapacious than a griffon more poisonous than a wyven and more cruel than a lion rampant yet I doubt much whether we can with propriety ask from Sir Hugh Robesart being in his present condition and indeed deputing his paternal right in Mr. Sammy to whomsoever your reverence need not doubt that said Will Badger who entered as he spoke for I will lay my life he is another man when he wakes then he has been these 30 days past I will said the curate confidence in Dr. Dinleon's draft not a wit said Will because master narrow tasted a drop on seen it was emptied out by the housemaid but here's a gentleman who came attending on master Tresselian has given Sir Hugh a draft that is worth 20 of Yaunan I have spoken cunningly with him and a better farrier or one who has a more just notion of horse and dog ailment than I have never seen and such a one would never be unjust to a Christian man a farrier new saucy groom and by whose authority pray said the curate rising in surprise and indignation or who will be warrant for this new physician for authority and in like your reverence he had mine and for warrant I trust I have not been 5 and 20 years in this house I have given Sir Hugh a draft to beast or body I who can guide drench and a ball and bleed or blister if need to my very self the counselors of the house of Robesart thought it neat to carry this information instantly to Tresselian who has speedily summoned before him Wayland Smith and demanded of him in private however by what authority he had ventured to administer any medicine to Sir Hugh Robesart why? replied the artist your worship cannot but remember that I told you I had made more progress into my masters I mean the learned Dr. Debubes mystery than he was willing to own and indeed half of his quarrel and malice against me was that besides that I got something too deep into his secrets several discerning persons and particularly a buxom young widow of Abondon preferred my prescriptions to his none of thy buffoonery sir said Tresselian sternly if thou was trifled with us much more if thou was an ought that may prejudice Sir Hugh Robesart's health thou shalt find thy grave at the bottom of a tin mine I know too little of the great archanum to convert the order gold said Wayland firmly but truce to your apprehensions master Tresselian I understood the good night's case from what master William Badger told me and I hope I may be able enough to administer a poor dose of mandragora which with the sleep that must needs follow is all that Sir Hugh Robesart requires to settle his distraught brains I trust thou dealest fairly with me Wayland said Tresselian most fairly and honestly as the event shall show replied the artist what would it avail me to harm the poor old man interested you to whom I owe it that Gaffer of Pennywinks is not even now rending my flesh in sinews with his accursed pincers and probing every mole in my body with his sharpened awl a muraine on the hands which forged it in order to find out the witch's mark I trust to yoke myself as a humble father to your worship's train I only wish to have my faith judged of the result of the good night's slumbers Wayland Smith was writing his prognostication the sedative draft which his skill had prepared and Will Badger's confidence had administered was attended with the most beneficial effects the patient's sleep was long and helpful and the poor old nine awoke humbled indeed in thought and weakened frame yet a much better judge of whatever was subjected to his intellect than he had been for some time past he resisted for a while the proposal made by his friends that Tressylian should undertake a journey to court to attempt the recovery of his daughter and the redress of her wrongs insofar as they might yet be repairing let her go he said she's but a hawk that goes down the wind I would not bestow even a whistle to reclaim her but though he for some time maintained this argument convinced it was his duty to take the part to which natural affection inclined him and consent that such efforts as could yet be made should be used by Tressylian in behalf of his daughter he subscribed therefore a warrant of attorney such as the curate skill enabled him to draw up for in those simple days the clergy were often the advisors of their flock in law as well as in gospel all matters were prepared for Tressylian's second departure within 24 hours after he returned to Lidcote Hall but one material circumstance had been forgotten which was first called to the remembrance of Tressylian by master mum Blazen you are going to court master Tressylian said he you will please remember that your Blazenry must be urgent and or no other tinctures will pass current the remark was equally just and embarrassing to prosecute a suit at court ready money was as indispensable even in the golden days of Elizabeth as in any succeeding period and it was a commodity little at the command of the inhabitants of Lidcote Hall Tressylian was himself poor the revenues of good circuit robes art were consumed and even anticipated in his hospitable mode of living and it was finally necessary that the herald who started the doubt should himself solve it master Michael mum Blazen did so by producing a bag of money containing nearly 300 pounds in gold and silver of various coinage the savings of 20 years which he now without speaking a syllable upon the subject dedicated to the service of the patron who shelter and protection had given him the means of making this little horn Tressylian accepted it without affecting a moment's hesitation and a mutual grasp of the hand was all that passed betwixt them to express the pleasure which the one felt in dedicating his all to such a purpose and that which the other received from finding so material an obstacle to the success of his journey so settling removed and in a manner so unexpected Walter Tressylian was making preparations for his departure the ensuing morning William Smith desired to speak with him and expressing his hope that he had been pleased with the operation of his medicine in behalf of Sir Hugh Ropes Art added his desire to accompany him to court this was indeed what Tressylian himself had several times thought of for the shrewdness alertness of understanding and variety of resource which this fellow had exhibited during the time they had traveled together it was sensible that his assistance might be of importance but then Weyland was in danger from the grasp of law and if this Tressylian reminded him mentioning something at the same time of the pincers of Pennywinks and the warrant of Master Justice Blindos Weyland Smith laughed both to scorn See you sir said he I have changed my guard from that of a farrier to a serving man still as it was look at my mustaches they now hang down I will but turn them up and die them with a tincture that I know of and the devil would scare snow me again he accompanied these words with the appropriate action and in less than a minute by setting up his mustaches and his hair he seemed a different person from him that had but now entered the room still however Tressylian gave up his service and the artist became proportionably urgent I owe you life and limb and I would faint pay a part of the debt especially as I know from old Badger on what dangerous service your worship is bound I do not indeed pretend to be what is called a man of metal one of those ruffling tear-cats who maintain their Master's Coral with Sworn and Buckler nay of those who hold the end of a feast better than the beginning, I'm afraid. But I know that I can serve your worship better, in such quest as yours, than any of these sword and daggermen, and that my head will be worth a hundred of their hands. Tressylian still hesitated. He knew not much of this strange fellow, and was doubtful how far he could repose in him the confidence necessary to render him a useful attendant upon the present emergency. Here he had come to a determination, the trampling of a horse was heard in the courtyard, and Master Mumblazin and Will Badger both entered hastily into Tressylian's chamber, speaking almost at the same moment. Here is the serving man on the banniest grated I ever see'd in my life, said Will Badger, who got the start, having on his arm a silver cognizance, being a fire-drake, holding his mouth a brick-bat under a coronet of an earl's degree, said Master Mumblazin, and bearing a letter sealed at the same. Tressylian took the letter which was addressed to the worshipful Master Edmund Tressylian, our loving kinsman, these, ride, ride, ride, for thy life, for thy life, for thy life. He then opened it and found the following contents. Master Tressylian, our good friend and cousin. We are in present so ill at ease and otherwise so unhappily circumstance that we are desirous to have around us those of our friends, on whose loving kindness we can most especially repose confidence. Amongst whom we hold our good Master Tressylian, one of the foremost and nearest, both in good will and good ability. We therefore pray you, with your most convenient speed, to repair to our poor lodging at Sayes Court near Dupfern, where we will treat further with you of matters which we deem it not fit to commit unto riding, and so we bid you hardly farewell, being your loving kinsman, to command. Ratcliffe, Earl of Sussex. Send up the messenger instantly will badger, said Tressylian, and as the man entered the room he exclaimed, Ah, Stevens, is it you? How does my good lord? ill Master Tressylian, was the messenger's reply, and having therefore the more need of good friends around him. But what is my lord's malady, said Tressylian anxiously, I heard nothing of his being ill. I know not, sir, replied the man. He is very ill at ease, the leeches are at a stand, and many of his households suspect foul practice witchcraft, or worse. What are the symptoms, said Weyland Smith, stepping forward hastily. Anon, said the messenger, not comprehending his meaning. What does he ale, said Weyland? Where lies his disease? The man looked at Tressylian as if to know whether he should answer these inquiries from a stranger, and receiving a sign in the affirmative, he hastily enumerated gradual loss of strength, nocturnal perspiration, and loss of appetite, faintness, etc. Joined, said Weyland, to anoint pain in the stomach, and a low fever. Even so, said the messenger, somewhat surprised. I know how the disease is caused, said the artist, and I know the cause. Her master is eaten of the manna of St. Nicholas. I know the cure, too. My master shall not say I study in his laboratory for nothing. How mean you, said Tressylian Frowning. We speak of one of the first nobles of England. Be thank you, this is no subject for buffoonery. God forbid, said Weyland Smith. I say that I know this disease, and can cure him. Remember what I did for Sir Hugh Ropes' art. We will set forth instantly, said Tressylian. God calls us. Accordingly, hastily mentioning this new motive for his instant departure, though without alluding to either the suspicions of Stevens, or the assurances of Weyland Smith, he took the kindest leave of Sir Hugh and the family at Lidcote Hall, who accompanied him with prayers and blessings, and attended by Weyland and the Earl of Sussex's Domestic, traveled with the utmost speed towards London. End Chapter 12 Chapter 13 of Kenilworth. This labor box recording is in the public domain. Kenilworth by Sir Walter Scott. Chapter 13. I. I know you have arsenic, vitriol, saltarter, argale, alkali, cinnaper. I know all. This fellow captain will come in time to be a great distiller, and give a say, I will not say directly, but very near, at the Philosopher's Stone, the Alchemist. Tressylian and his attendants pressed their route with all dispatch. He had asked the Smith and Dean when their departure was resolved on, whether he would not rather choose to avoid Berkshire, in which he had played a part so conspicuous. But Weyland returned to confident answer. He'd employed the short interval they passed at Lidcote Hall in transforming himself in a wonderful manner. His wild and overgrown thicket of beard was now restrained to two small mustaches on the upper lip. Turned up in a military fashion. A tailor from the village of Lidcote, while paying, had exerted his skill under his customer's directions, so as to completely alter Weyland's outward man and take off from his appearance almost twenty years of age. Formerly Bissmere with a soot and charcoal overgrown with hair and bent double with the nature of his labor, disfigured too by his odd and fantastic dress. He seemed a man of fifty years old, but now in a handsome suit of Tressylian's livery, with a sword by his side and a buckler on his shoulder, he looked like a gay, ruffling serving man, whose age might be betwixt thirty and thirty-five, the very prime of human life. His loudish, savage-looking demeanor seemed equally changed into a forward, sharp and impudent alertness of look and action. Unchallenged by Tressylian, who desired to know the cause of a metamorphosis so singular and so absolute, Weyland only answered by singing a stave from a comedy, which was then new and must-opposed among the more favorable judges, to augur some genius on the part of the author. We were happy to preserve the couplet, which ran exactly thus. Ban ban cacala ban, get a new master, be a new man. Although Tressylian did not recollect the verses, yet they reminded him that Weyland had once been the stage-player, a circumstance which, of itself, I counted indifferently well for the readiness, with which he could assume so total a change of personal appearance. The artist himself was so confident of his disguise, being completely changed, or of his having completely changed his disguise, which may be the more correct mode of speaking, that he regretted they were not to pass near his old place of retreat. I could venture, he said, in my present dress and with your worship's backing, to face master Justice blind us, even on a day of quarter-sessions. And I would like to know what has become of Bob Goblin, who was like to play the devil in the world, if he can once slip the string and leave his granny and his Dominique. I, in this cave-fault, he said, I would willingly have seen what havoc the explosion of so much gunpowder has made among Dr. Demetrius Dububes for torrents and files. I warn me, my fame haunts the veil of the white horse long after my body is rotten, and that many a lout ties up his horse, lays down his silver groat, and pipes like a sailor whistling in a calm, for Waylon Smith to come and shoe his tit for him. But the horse will catch the Founders, ere the Smith answers the call. In this particular, indeed, Waylon proved a true prophet, and so easily do fables rise, that an obscure tradition of his extraordinary practice, in farier me, prevails in the veil of white horse, even unto this day. And neither the tradition of Alfred's victory, nor of the celebrated Pussyhorn, are better preserved in Berkshire than the wild legend of Waylon Smith. The Great Defeat, given by Alfred to the Danish invaders, is said by Mr. Goud to have taken place near Ashton in Berkshire. The burial place of Bering, the Danish chief, who was slain in this fight, is distinguished by a parcel of stones, less than a mile from the hill, set on edge, enclosing a piece of ground somewhat raised. On the east side of the southern extremities stand three squarish-flat stones, of about four or five feet, over either way, supporting the fourth, and now called by the bulgar Waylon Smith, from an idle tradition, about an invisible Smith, replacing lost horseshoes there. Goud's addition of Candon's Britannia, of volume one, page two hundred twenty-one. The popular belief still retains memory of this wild legend, which, connected as it is with the side of a Danish supple cure, may have arisen from some legend concerning the northern Durgar, who resided in the rocks, and were cunning workers in steel and iron. It was believed that Waylon Smith's deed was six pence, and that, unlike other workmen, he was offended if more was offered. Of late his offices have been, again, called to memory, but fiction has in this, as in other cases, taken the liberty to pillage the stores of oral tradition. This monument must be very ancient, for it has been kindly pointed out to me that it is referred to in an ancient Saxon charter as a landmark. The monument has been of late cleared out, and made considerably more conspicuous. The haste of the travelers admitted their making no stay upon their journey, save with the refreshment of the horses required, and as many of the places through which they passed were under the influence of the Earl of Lester, or persons immediately dependent on him, they thought imprudent to disguise their names and the purpose of their journey. On such occasions the agency of Waylon Smith, by which name we shall continue to distinguish the artist, though his real name was Lancelot Waylond, was extremely serviceable. He seemed, indeed, to have a pleasure in displaying the alertness with which he could baffle investigation, and enuse himself by putting the curiosity of tapsters and innkeepers on a false scent. During the course of their brief journey, three different and inconsistent reports were circulated by him on their account. Namely, first, that Tresselion was the Lord Deputy of Ireland, come over in disguise to take the Queen's pleasure concerning the great rebel, Rory O'Gama Carthy, McNair. Secondly, that the said Tresselion was an agent of Meshura, coming to urge his suit to the hand of Elizabeth. Thirdly, that he was the Duke of Medina, come over incognito to adjust the curl of the twix to fill up and that princess. Tresselion was angry and expostulated with the artist on the various inconveniences, and in particular the unnecessary degree of attention to which they were subjected by the figments he thus circulated. But he was pacified for who could be proof against such an argument, by Waylons assuring him that under no importance was attached to his own Tresselion's striking presence, which rendered it necessary to give an extraordinary reason for the rapidity and secrecy of his journey. At length they approached the metropolis, where, owing to the more general recourse of strangers, their appearance excited neither observation nor inquiry, and finally they entered London itself. It was Tresselion's purpose to go down directly to Depthorn, where Lord Sussex resided, in order to be near the court that held at Greenwich, the favorite residence of Elizabeth, and honored as her birthplace. Still a brief hold in London was necessary, and it was somewhat prolonged by the earnest entreaties of Waylonsmith, who desired permission to take a walk through the city. Take thy sword and buckler, and follow me then, Tresselion. I am about to walk myself, and we will go and company. This he said, because he was not altogether so secure of the fidelity of his new retainer, as to the sight of him at this interesting moment, when rival factions at the court of Elizabeth were running so high, Waylonsmith willingly acquiesced in the precaution, of which he probably conjectured the motive, but only stipulated that his master should enter the shops of such chemists or apothecaries, as he should point out, in walking through Fleet Street, and permit him to make some necessary purchases. Tresselion agreed, and obeying the signal of his attendant, walked successively into more than four or five shops, where he observed that Waylonsmith purchased in each only one single drug in various quantities. The medicines which he first asked for were readily furnished, each in succession, but those which he afterwards required were less easily supplied, and Tresselion observed that Waylonsmith more than once, to the surprise of the shopkeeper, returned the gum or herb that was offered to him, and compelled him to exchange it for the right sort, or else went on to seek it elsewhere. But one ingredient in particular seemed almost impossible to find. Some chemists plainly admitted they had never seen it. Others denied that such a drug existed, accepting in the imagination of crazy alchemists. And most of them attempted to satisfy their customer by producing some substitute, which, when rejected by Waylond, as not being what he had asked for, they maintained, possessed, and a superior degree, the self-same qualities. In general, they all displayed some curiosity concerning the purpose for which he wanted it. One old meager chemist, to whom the artist put the usual question, in terms which Tresselion neither understood nor could recollect, answered frankly, there was none of that drug in London unless Yo-Gran, the Jew, chance to have some of it upon hand. I thought as much, said Waylond. And as soon as they left the shop, he said to Tresselion, I crave your pardon, sir, but no artist can work without his tools. I must needs go to this Yo-Gran's, and I promise you that if this detains you longer, then your leisure seems to permit. You shall nevertheless be well repaid by the use I will make of this rare drug. Permit me, he added, to walk before you, for when we are now to quit the broad street, then we will make double speed if I leave the way. Tresselion acquiesced, and following the Smith down a lane which turned to the left hand, towards the river. He found that his guide walked on with great speed, and apparently perfect knowledge of the town, through a labyrinth of by-streets, courts, and blind alleys, and till at length Waylond paused in the midst of a very narrow lane, the termination of which showed a peep of the Thames, looking misty and muddy, which background was crossed, salter-wise, as Mr. Mumb plays in, might have said, by the mass of two lighters that lay waiting for the tide. The shop under which he halted had not, as in modern days, a glazed window, but a paltry canvas screen surrounded such a stall as a cobbler now occupies, having the front open, much in the manner of a fishmonger's booth of the present day. A little old smock-faced man, the very reverse of the Jew in compulsion, for he was very soft-haired, as well as beardless, up here at end, with many courtesies, asked Waylond what he pleased to want. He had no sooner named the drug than the Jew started and looked surprised, and but might you worship a bunt with that drug, which is not named, my God, in forty years as I have been chemist here. These questions, it is no part of my commission to answer, said Waylond. I only wish to know if you have what I want, and having it, are willing to sell it. I, my God, for having it that I have, and for selling it, I am a chemist, and sell every drug. So saying, he exhibited a powder, and then continued, but it will cost much moneys, that I have cost its weight in gold, I gold while refined. I will say six times. It comes from Mount Sinai, where we had our blessed law given forth, and the plant blossoms, but once in one hundred years. I do not know how often it is gathered on Mount Sinai, said Waylond. After looking at the drug offered him with great disdain, but I will wager my sword and buckler against your gabardine, that this trash you offer me, instead of what I ask for, may be hard for gathering any day of the week in the castle ditch of Aleppo. You are a rude man, said the Jew, and besides, I have no better than that, or if I have, I will not sell it without order of the physician, or without you tell me that you make of it. The artist's made brief answer in a language of which Tresleyan could not understand a word, and which seemed to strike the Jew with the utmost astonishment. He stared upon Waylond, like one who has suddenly recognized a mighty hero, or dreaded Potentate. In the person of an unknown and unmarked stranger, Holy Elias, he exclaimed, when he had recovered the first standing effects of his surprise, and in passing from his former suspicious and surly manner to the very extremity of secreousness, he cringed low to the artist and besotted him to enter his poor house to bless his miserable threshold by crossing it. Will you not taste a cup with the poor Jew, Zachariah Sheldonman? Will you Tokyove? Will you lacrim I taste? Will you? You offend and your profers, said Waylond, minister to me and what I require of you, and forbear further discourse. The rebuked Israelite took his bunch of keys and opening, with circumspection, a cabinet which seemed more strongly secured than the other cases of drugs and medicines amongst which it stood. He drew out a little secret drawer, having a glass lid, and containing a small portion of a black powder. This he offered to Waylond, his manner conveying the deepest devotion towards him, though an apparitious and jealous expression, which seemed to grudge every grain of what his customer was about to possess himself, disputed ground in his countenance with the obsequious deference which he desired it should exhibit. Have you scales, said Waylond? The Jew pointed to those which lay ready for common use in the shop, but he did so with a puzzled expression of doubt and fear, which did not escape the artist. They must be other than these, said Waylond sternly. Know you not that holy things lose their virtue, if weighed in an unjust balance. The Jew hung his head, took from a steel-plated casket a pair of scales beautifully mounted, and said, as he adjusted them for the artist's use, with these I do mine own experiment, one hair of the high priest's beard would turn them. It suffices, said the artist, and weighed out two drawkins for himself of the black powder, which he very carefully folded up and put into his pouch with the other drugs. He then demanded the price of the Jew, who answered, shaking his head and bowing. No price, no, nothing at all from such as you. But you will see the poor Jew again. You will look into his laboratory, where God helped him. He hath dried himself to the substance of the withered gourd of Jonah, the holy prophet. You will have pity on him, and show him one little step on the great road. Hush, said Waylond, made his finger mysteriously on his mouth. It may be we shall meet again. Thou hast already the scotch munch, as thine own rabbis call it, the general creation. Watch therefore and pray, for thou must attain the knowledge of alchaiest elixir-sommick, ere I may commune further with thee. Then returning with a slight nod, the reverential congeals of the Jew. He walked gravely at the lane, followed by his master, whose first observation on the scene he had just witnessed was that Waylond ought to have paid the man for his drum, whatever it was. I pay him, said the artist. May the foul fiend pay me if I do. Had it not been that I thought it might displace your worship, I would have had an ounce or two of gold out of him, in exchange of the same just wave of brick dust. I advise you to practice no such navery while waiting upon me, said Tresselion. Did I not say, answered the artist, that for that reason alone I forebore him for the present? Navery call you it? Why, yonder wretched skeleton hath wealth sufficient to pave the whole lane he lives in with dollars, and scarce mist them out of his own iron chest, yet he goes mad after the philosopher's stone. And besides, he would have cheated a poor serving man, as he thought me at first, with trash that was not worth a penny. Match, forematch, quote the devil to the collier, if his false medicine was worth my good crowns, my true brick dust is as well worth his good gold. It may be so, fraught I know, said Tresselion, in dealing amongst Jews and apothecaries, but understand that to have such tricks of reshered a man practiced by one attending on me diminishes my honor, and that I will not permit them. I trust thou hast made up thy purchases. I have, sir, replied Weyland, and with these drugs will I this very day compound the true Orbiton, that noble medicine which is so seldom found genuine and effective within these realms of Europe, for want of that most rare and precious drug which I got but now from Joglin. The reader's note, Orbiton, or then its treacle, as it was sometimes called, was understood to be a sovereign remedy against poison, and the reader must be contented, for the time he peruses these pages, to hold the same opinion, which was once universally received by the learned as well as the vulgar. End reader's note. The why not have made all your purchases at one shop, said his master, we've lost nearly an hour in running from one pounder of samples to another. Content, user, said Weyland, no man shall learn my secret, and it would not be mine long were I to buy all my materials from one chemist. They now returned to their inn, the famous Bell Savage, and while the Lord Sussex's servant prepared the horses for their journey, Weyland, obtaining from the cook the service of a monarch, shut himself up in a private chamber, where he mixed pounded and amalgamated the drugs which he had bought, each in its due proportion, with the readiness and address that plainly showed him well practice in all the manual operations of pharmacy. By the time Weyland's electuary was prepared, the horses were running, and a short hour's riding brought them to the present habitation of Lord Sussex, an ancient house called Sayes Court, near Debtford, which had long retained to a family of that name, but had, for upwards of a century, been possessed by the ancient and honorable family of Evelyn. The present representative of that ancient house took a deep interest in the Earl of Sussex, and had willingly accommodated both him and his numerous retinue in his hospitable mansion. Sayes Court was afterwards the residence of the celebrated Mr. Evelyn, whose sova is still the manual of British planters, and whose life, manners and principles, as illustrated in his memoirs, ought equally to be the manual of the English gentleman. End Chapter 13.