Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth

by Charles Kingsley

  CHAPTER VIII

  HOW THE NOBLE BROTHERHOOD OF THE ROSE WAS FOUNDED

  "It is virtue, yea virtue, gentlemen, that maketh gentlemen; that maketh the poor rich, the base-born noble, the subject a sovereign, the deformed beautiful, the sick whole, the weak strong, the most miserable most happy. There are two principal and peculiar gifts in the nature of man, knowledge and reason; the one commandeth, and the other obeyeth: these things neither the whirling wheel of fortune can change, neither the deceitful cavillings of worldlings separate, neither sickness abate, neither age abolish."--LILLY's Euphues, 1586.

  It now falls to my lot to write of the foundation of that mostchivalrous brotherhood of the Rose, which after a few years made itselfnot only famous in its native country of Devon, but formidable, as willbe related hereafter, both in Ireland and in the Netherlands, in theSpanish Main and the heart of South America. And if this chapter shallseem to any Quixotic and fantastical, let them recollect that thegeneration who spoke and acted thus in matters of love and honor were,nevertheless, practised and valiant soldiers, and prudent and craftypoliticians; that he who wrote the "Arcadia" was at the same time, inspite of his youth, one of the subtlest diplomatists of Europe; thatthe poet of the "Faerie Queene" was also the author of "The Stateof Ireland;" and if they shall quote against me with a sneer Lilly's"Euphues" itself, I shall only answer by asking--Have they ever readit? For if they have done so, I pity them if they have not found it, inspite of occasional tediousness and pedantry, as brave, righteous, andpious a book as man need look into: and wish for no better proof ofthe nobleness and virtue of the Elizabethan age, than the fact that"Euphues" and the "Arcadia" were the two popular romances of the day. Itmay have suited the purposes of Sir Walter Scott, in his cleverly drawnSir Piercie Shafton, to ridicule the Euphuists, and that affectatamcomitatem of the travelled English of which Languet complains; but overand above the anachronism of the whole character (for, to give but oneinstance, the Euphuist knight talks of Sidney's quarrel with Lord Oxfordat least ten years before it happened), we do deny that Lilly's bookcould, if read by any man of common sense, produce such a coxcomb,whose spiritual ancestors would rather have been Gabriel Harvey andLord Oxford,--if indeed the former has not maligned the latter, andill-tempered Tom Nash maligned the maligner in his turn.

  But, indeed, there is a double anachronism in Sir Piercie; for he doesnot even belong to the days of Sidney, but to those worse times whichbegan in the latter years of Elizabeth, and after breaking her mightyheart, had full license to bear their crop of fools' heads in theprofligate days of James. Of them, perhaps, hereafter. And in themeanwhile, let those who have not read "Euphues" believe that, if theycould train a son after the fashion of his Ephoebus, to the greatsaving of their own money and his virtue, all fathers, even in thesemoney-making days, would rise up and call them blessed. Let usrather open our eyes, and see in these old Elizabeth gallants our ownancestors, showing forth with the luxuriant wildness of youth all thevirtues which still go to the making of a true Englishman. Let us notonly see in their commercial and military daring, in their politicalastuteness, in their deep reverence for law, and in their solemn senseof the great calling of the English nation, the antitypes or ratherthe examples of our own: but let us confess that their chivalry is onlyanother garb of that beautiful tenderness and mercy which is now, asit was then, the twin sister of English valor; and even in theirextravagant fondness for Continental manners and literature, let usrecognize that old Anglo-Norman teachableness and wide-heartedness,which has enabled us to profit by the wisdom and civilization of allages and of all lands, without prejudice to our own distinctive nationalcharacter.

  And so I go to my story, which, if any one dislikes, he has but to turnthe leaf till he finds pasturage which suits him better.

  Amyas could not sail the next day, or the day after; for the southwesterfreshened, and blew three parts of a gale dead into the bay. So havinggot the "Mary Grenville" down the river into Appledore pool, ready tostart with the first shift of wind, he went quietly home; and whenhis mother started on a pillion behind the old serving-man to rideto Clovelly, where Frank lay wounded, he went in with her as far asBideford, and there met, coming down the High Street, a procession ofhorsemen headed by Will Cary, who, clad cap-a-pie in a shining armor,sword on thigh, and helmet at saddle-bow, looked as gallant a younggentleman as ever Bideford dames peeped at from door and window. Behindhim, upon country ponies, came four or five stout serving-men, carryinghis lances and baggage, and their own long-bows, swords, and bucklers;and behind all, in a horse-litter, to Mrs. Leigh's great joy, MasterFrank himself. He deposed that his wounds were only flesh-wounds, thedagger having turned against his ribs; that he must see the last ofhis brother; and that with her good leave he would not come home toBurrough, but take up his abode with Cary in the Ship Tavern, close tothe Bridge-foot. This he did forthwith, and settling himself on a couch,held his levee there in state, mobbed by all the gossips of the town,not without white fibs as to who had brought him into that sorry plight.

  But in the meanwhile he and Amyas concocted a scheme, which was putinto effect the next day (being market-day); first by the innkeeper, whobegan under Amyas's orders a bustle of roasting, boiling, and frying,unparalleled in the annals of the Ship Tavern; and next by Amyashimself, who, going out into the market, invited as many of his oldschoolfellows, one by one apart, as Frank had pointed out to him, to amerry supper and a "rowse" thereon consequent; by which crafty scheme,in came each of Rose Salterne's gentle admirers, and found himself, tohis considerable disgust, seated at the same table with six rivals, tonone of whom had he spoken for the last six months. However, all weretoo well bred to let the Leighs discern as much; and they (though, ofcourse, they knew all) settled their guests, Frank on his couch lyingat the head of the table, and Amyas taking the bottom: and contrived, byfilling all mouths with good things, to save them the pain of speakingto each other till the wine should have loosened their tongues andwarmed their hearts. In the meanwhile both Amyas and Frank, ignoring thesilence of their guests with the most provoking good-humor, chatted,and joked, and told stories, and made themselves such good company, thatWill Cary, who always found merriment infectious, melted into a jest,and then into another, and finding good-humor far more pleasant thanbad, tried to make Mr. Coffin laugh, and only made him bow, and tomake Mr. Fortescue laugh, and only made him frown; and unabashednevertheless, began playing his light artillery upon the waiters, tillhe drove them out of the room bursting with laughter.

  So far so good. And when the cloth was drawn, and sack and sugar becamethe order of the day, and "Queen and Bible" had been duly drunk with allthe honors, Frank tried a fresh move, and--

  "I have a toast, gentlemen--here it is. 'The gentlemen of the Irishwars; and may Ireland never be without a St. Leger to stand by aFortescue, a Fortescue to stand by a St. Leger, and a Chichester tostand by both.'"

  Which toast of course involved the drinking the healths of the threerepresentatives of those families, and their returning thanks, andpaying a compliment each to the other's house: and so the ice cracked alittle further; and young Fortescue proposed the health of "Amyas Leighand all bold mariners;" to which Amyas replied by a few blunt kindlywords, "that he wished to know no better fortune than to sail round theworld again with the present company as fellow-adventurers, and so givethe Spaniards another taste of the men of Devon."

  And by this time, the wine going down sweetly, caused the lips of themthat were asleep to speak; till the ice broke up altogether, and everyman began talking like a rational Englishman to the man who sat nexthim.

  "And now, gentlemen," said Frank, who saw that it was the fit momentfor the grand assault which he had planned all along; "let me give youa health which none of you, I dare say, will refuse to drink with heartand soul as well as with lips;--the health of one whom beauty and virtuehave so ennobled, that in their light the shadow of lowly birthis unseen;--the health of one whom I would proclaim as pee
rless inloveliness, were it not that every gentleman here has sisters, who mightwell challenge from her the girdle of Venus: and yet what else dareI say, while those same lovely ladies who, if they but use their ownmirrors, must needs be far better judges of beauty than I can be, havein my own hearing again and again assigned the palm to her? Surely, ifthe goddesses decide among themselves the question of the golden apple,Paris himself must vacate the judgment-seat. Gentlemen, your hearts, Idoubt not, have already bid you, as my unworthy lips do now, to drink'The Rose of Torridge.'"

  If the Rose of Torridge herself had walked into the room, she couldhardly have caused more blank astonishment than Frank's bold speech.Every guest turned red, and pale, and red again, and looked at the otheras much as to say, "What right has any one but I to drink her? Liftyour glass, and I will dash it out of your hand;" but Frank, with sweeteffrontery, drank "The health of the Rose of Torridge, and a doublehealth to that worthy gentleman, whosoever he may be, whom she is fatedto honor with her love!"

  "Well done, cunning Frank Leigh!" cried blunt Will Cary; "none of usdare quarrel with you now, however much we may sulk at each other. Forthere's none of us, I'll warrant, but thinks that she likes him the bestof all; and so we are bound to believe that you have drunk our healthsall round."

  "And so I have: and what better thing can you do, gentlemen, than todrink each other's healths all round likewise: and so show yourselvestrue gentlemen, true Christians, ay, and true lovers? For what is love(let me speak freely to you, gentlemen and guests), what is love, butthe very inspiration of that Deity whose name is Love? Be sure that notwithout reason did the ancients feign Eros to be the eldest of the gods,by whom the jarring elements of chaos were attuned into harmony andorder. How, then, shall lovers make him the father of strife? ShallPsyche wed with Cupid, to bring forth a cockatrice's egg? or the soul befilled with love, the likeness of the immortals, to burn with envy andjealousy, division and distrust? True, the rose has its thorn: but itleaves poison and stings to the nettle. Cupid has his arrow: but hehurls no scorpions. Venus is awful when despised, as the daughters ofProetus found: but her handmaids are the Graces, not the Furies. Surelyhe who loves aright will not only find love lovely, but become himselflovely also. I speak not to reprehend you, gentlemen; for to you (asyour piercing wits have already perceived, to judge by your honorableblushes) my discourse tends; but to point you, if you will but permitme, to that rock which I myself have, I know not by what Divine goodhap, attained; if, indeed, I have attained it, and am not about to bewashed off again by the next tide."

  Frank's rapid and fantastic oratory, utterly unexpected as it was, hadas yet left their wits no time to set their tempers on fire; but when,weak from his wounds, he paused for breath, there was a haughtymurmur from more than one young gentleman, who took his speech asan impertinent interference with each man's right to make a fool ofhimself; and Mr. Coffin, who had sat quietly bolt upright, and lookingat the opposite wall, now rose as quietly, and with a face which triedto look utterly unconcerned, was walking out of the room: anotherminute, and Lady Bath's prophecy about the feast of the Lapithae mighthave come true.

  But Frank's heart and head never failed him.

  "Mr. Coffin!" said he, in a tone which compelled that gentleman to turnround, and so brought him under the power of a face which none couldhave beheld for five minutes and borne malice, so imploring, tender,earnest was it. "My dear Mr. Coffin! If my earnestness has made meforget even for a moment the bounds of courtesy, let me entreat you toforgive me. Do not add to my heavy griefs, heavy enough already, thegrief of losing a friend. Only hear me patiently to the end (generously,I know, you will hear me); and then, if you are still incensed, I canbut again entreat your forgiveness a second time."

  Mr. Coffin, to tell the truth, had at that time never been to Court; andhe was therefore somewhat jealous of Frank, and his Court talk, and hisCourt clothes, and his Court company; and moreover, being the eldestof the guests, and only two years younger than Frank himself, he was alittle nettled at being classed in the same category with some who werescarce eighteen. And if Frank had given the least hint which seemedto assume his own superiority, all had been lost: but when, insteadthereof, he sued in forma pauperis, and threw himself upon Coffin'smercy, the latter, who was a true-hearted man enough, and after all hadknown Frank ever since either of them could walk, had nothing to do butto sit down again and submit, while Frank went on more earnestly thanever.

  "Believe me; believe me, Mr. Coffin, and gentlemen all, I no morearrogate to myself a superiority over you than does the sailor hurledon shore by the surge fancy himself better than his comrade who is stillbattling with the foam. For I too, gentlemen,--let me confess it, thatby confiding in you I may, perhaps, win you to confide in me,--haveloved, ay and do love, where you love also. Do not start. Is it a matterof wonder that the sun which has dazzled you has dazzled me; thatthe lodestone which has drawn you has drawn me? Do not frown, either,gentlemen. I have learnt to love you for loving what I love, and toadmire you for admiring that which I admire. Will you not try the samelesson: so easy, and, when learnt, so blissful? What breeds more closecommunion between subjects than allegiance to the same queen? betweenbrothers, than duty to the same father? between the devout, thanadoration for the same Deity? And shall not worship for the same beautybe likewise a bond of love between the worshippers? and each lover seein his rival not an enemy, but a fellow-sufferer? You smile and say inyour hearts, that though all may worship, but one can enjoy; and thatone man's meat must be the poison of the rest. Be it so, though I denyit. Shall we anticipate our own doom, and slay ourselves for fear ofdying? Shall we make ourselves unworthy of her from our very eagernessto win her, and show ourselves her faithful knights, by cherishingenvy,--most unknightly of all sins? Shall we dream with the Italianor the Spaniard that we can become more amiable in a lady's eyes, bybecoming hateful in the eyes of God and of each other? Will she loveus the better, if we come to her with hands stained in the blood ofhim whom she loves better than us? Let us recollect ourselves rather,gentlemen; and be sure that our only chance of winning her, if she beworth winning, is to will what she wills, honor whom she honors, lovewhom she loves. If there is to be rivalry among us, let it be a rivalryin nobleness, an emulation in virtue. Let each try to outstrip the otherin loyalty to his queen, in valor against her foes, in deeds of courtesyand mercy to the afflicted and oppressed; and thus our love will indeedprove its own divine origin, by raising us nearer to those gods whosegift it is. But yet I show you a more excellent way, and that ischarity. Why should we not make this common love to her, whom I amunworthy to name, the sacrament of a common love to each other? Whyshould we not follow the heroical examples of those ancient knights, whohaving but one grief, one desire, one goddess, held that one heart wasenough to contain that grief, to nourish that desire, to worship thatdivinity; and so uniting themselves in friendship till they became butone soul in two bodies, lived only for each other in living only forher, vowing as faithful worshippers to abide by her decision, to findtheir own bliss in hers, and whomsoever she esteemed most worthy ofher love, to esteem most worthy also, and count themselves, by that herchoice, the bounden servants of him whom their mistress had condescendedto advance to the dignity of her master?--as I (not without hope that Ishall be outdone in generous strife) do here promise to be the faithfulfriend, and, to my ability, the hearty servant, of him who shall behonored with the love of the Rose of Torridge."

  He ceased, and there was a pause.

  At last young Fortescue spoke.

  "I may be paying you a left-handed compliment, sir: but it seems to methat you are so likely, in that case, to become your own faithful friendand hearty servant (even if you have not borne off the bell alreadywhile we have been asleep), that the bargain is hardly fair between sucha gay Italianist and us country swains."

  "You undervalue yourself and your country, my dear sir. But set yourmind at rest. I know no more of that lady's mind than you do: nor shallI know. For the sake of my own peac
e, I have made a vow neither to seeher, nor to hear, if possible, tidings of her, till three full years arepast. Dixi?"

  Mr. Coffin rose.

  "Gentlemen, I may submit to be outdone by Mr. Leigh in eloquence, butnot in generosity; if he leaves these parts for three years, I do soalso."

  "And go in charity with all mankind," said Cary. "Give us your hand,old fellow. If you are a Coffin, you were sawn out of no wishy-washyelm-board, but right heart-of-oak. I am going, too, as Amyas here cantell, to Ireland away, to cool my hot liver in a bog, like a Jack-harein March. Come, give us thy neif, and let us part in peace. I was mindedto have fought thee this day--"

  "I should have been most happy, sir," said Coffin.

  --"But now I am all love and charity to mankind. Can I have the pleasureof begging pardon of the world in general, and thee in particular? Doesany one wish to pull my nose; send me an errand; make me lend him fivepounds; ay, make me buy a horse of him, which will be as good as givinghim ten? Come along! Join hands all round, and swear eternal friendship,as brothers of the sacred order of the--of what. Frank Leigh? Open thymouth, Daniel, and christen us!"

  "The Rose!" said Frank quietly, seeing that his new love-philtre wasworking well, and determined to strike while the iron was hot, and carrythe matter too far to carry it back again.

  "The Rose!" cried Cary, catching hold of Coffin's hand with his right,and Fortescue's with his left. "Come, Mr. Coffin! Bend, sturdy oak! 'Woeto the stiffnecked and stout-hearted!' says Scripture."

  And somehow or other, whether it was Frank's chivalrous speech, orCary's fun, or Amyas's good wine, or the nobleness which lies in everyyoung lad's heart, if their elders will take the trouble to call it out,the whole party came in to terms one by one, shook hands all round, andvowed on the hilt of Amyas's sword to make fools of themselves no more,at least by jealousy: but to stand by each other and by their lady-love,and neither grudge nor grumble, let her dance with, flirt with, or marrywith whom she would; and in order that the honor of their peerless dame,and the brotherhood which was named after her, might be spread throughall lands, and equal that of Angelica or Isonde of Brittany, they wouldeach go home, and ask their fathers' leave (easy enough to obtain inthose brave times) to go abroad wheresoever there were "good wars," toemulate there the courage and the courtesy of Walter Manny and GonzaloFernandes, Bayard and Gaston de Foix. Why not? Sidney was the hero ofEurope at five-and-twenty; and why not they?

  And Frank watched and listened with one of his quiet smiles (his eyes,as some folks' do, smiled even when his lips were still), and only said:"Gentlemen, be sure that you will never repent this day."

  "Repent?" said Cary. "I feel already as angelical as thou lookest, SaintSilvertongue. What was it that sneezed?--the cat?"

  "The lion, rather, by the roar of it," said Amyas, making a dash at thearras behind him. "Why, here is a doorway here! and--"

  And rushing under the arras, through an open door behind, he returned,dragging out by the head Mr. John Brimblecombe.

  Who was Mr. John Brimblecombe?

  If you have forgotten him, you have done pretty nearly what every oneelse in the room had done. But you recollect a certain fat lad, son ofthe schoolmaster, whom Sir Richard punished for tale-bearing three yearsbefore, by sending him, not to Coventry, but to Oxford. That was theman. He was now one-and-twenty, and a bachelor of Oxford, where hehad learnt such things as were taught in those days, with more or lesssuccess; and he was now hanging about Bideford once more, intending toreturn after Christmas and read divinity, that he might become a parson,and a shepherd of souls in his native land.

  Jack was in person exceedingly like a pig: but not like every pig: notin the least like the Devon pigs of those days, which, I am sorry tosay, were no more shapely than the true Irish greyhound who paysPat's "rint" for him; or than the lanky monsters who wallow in Germanrivulets, while the village swineherd, beneath a shady lime, forgets hisfleas in the melody of a Jew's harp--strange mud-colored creatures, fourfeet high and four inches thick, which look as if they had passed theirlives, as a collar of Oxford brawn is said to do, between two tightboards. Such were then the pigs of Devon: not to be compared with thetrue wild descendant of Noah's stock, high-withered, furry, grizzled,game-flavored little rooklers, whereof many a sownder still gruntedabout Swinley down and Braunton woods, Clovelly glens and Bursdon moor.Not like these, nor like the tame abomination of those barbarous times,was Jack: but prophetic in face, figure, and complexion, of Fisher Hobbsand the triumphs of science. A Fisher Hobbs' pig of twelve stone, onhis hind-legs--that was what he was, and nothing else; and if you do notknow, reader, what a Fisher Hobbs is, you know nothing about pigs,and deserve no bacon for breakfast. But such was Jack. The same plumpmulberry complexion, garnished with a few scattered black bristles; thesame sleek skin, looking always as if it was upon the point of bursting;the same little toddling legs; the same dapper bend in the small of theback; the same cracked squeak; the same low upright forehead, and tinyeyes; the same round self-satisfied jowl; the same charming sensitivelittle cocked nose, always on the look-out for a savory smell,--andyet while watching for the best, contented with the worst; a pig ofself-helpful and serene spirit, as Jack was, and therefore, like him,fatting fast while other pigs' ribs are staring through their skins.

  Such was Jack; and lucky it was for him that such he was; for it waslittle that he got to fat him at Oxford, in days when a servitor meantreally a servant-student; and wistfully that day did his eyes, led byhis nose, survey at the end of the Ship Inn passage the preparationsfor Amyas's supper. The innkeeper was a friend of his; for, in the firstplace, they had lived within three doors of each other all their lives;and next, Jack was quite pleasant company enough, beside being alearned man and an Oxford scholar, to be asked in now and then to theinnkeeper's private parlor, when there were no gentlemen there, tocrack his little joke and tell his little story, sip the leavings of theguests' sack, and sometimes help the host to eat the leavings of theirsupper. And it was, perhaps, with some such hope that Jack trotted offround the corner to the Ship that very afternoon; for that faithfullittle nose of his, as it sniffed out of a back window of the school,had given him warning of Sabean gales, and scents of Paradise, from theinn kitchen below; so he went round, and asked for his pot of small ale(his only luxury), and stood at the bar to drink it; and looked inwardwith his little twinkling right eye, and sniffed inward with his littlecurling right nostril, and beheld, in the kitchen beyond, salad instacks and fagots: salad of lettuce, salad of cress and endive, salad ofboiled coleworts, salad of pickled coleworts, salad of angelica, saladof scurvy-wort, and seven salads more; for potatoes were not as yet, andsalads were during eight months of the year the only vegetable. And onthe dresser, and before the fire, whole hecatombs of fragrant victims,which needed neither frankincense nor myrrh; Clovelly herrings andTorridge salmon, Exmoor mutton and Stow venison, stubble geese andwoodcocks, curlew and snipe, hams of Hampshire, chitterlings of Taunton,and botargos of Cadiz, such as Pantagruel himself might have devoured.And Jack eyed them, as a ragged boy eyes the cakes in a pastrycook'swindow; and thought of the scraps from the commoners' dinner, which werehis wages for cleaning out the hall; and meditated deeply on the unequaldistribution of human bliss.

  "Ah, Mr. Brimblecombe!" said the host, bustling out with knife and apronto cool himself in the passage. "Here are doings! Nine gentlemen tosupper!"

  "Nine! Are they going to eat all that?"

  "Well, I can't say--that Mr. Amyas is as good as three to his trencher:but still there's crumbs, Mr. Brimblecombe, crumbs; and waste notwant not is my doctrine; so you and I may have a somewhat to stay ourstomachs, about an eight o'clock."

  "Eight?" said Jack, looking wistfully at the clock. "It's but four now.Well, it's kind of you, and perhaps I'll look in."

  "Just you step in now, and look to this venison. There's a breast! youmay lay your two fingers into the say there, and not get to the bottomof the fat. That's Sir Richard's sending. He's all for them Leighs, andno won
der, they'm brave lads, surely; and there's a saddle-o'-mutton! Irode twenty miles for mun yesterday, I did, over beyond Barnstaple; andfive year old, Mr. John, it is, if ever five years was; and not a toothto mun's head, for I looked to that; and smelt all the way home like anyapple; and if it don't ate so soft as ever was scald cream, never youcall me Thomas Burman."

  "Humph!" said Jack. "And that's their dinner. Well, some are born with asilver spoon in their mouth."

  "Some be born with roast beef in their mouths, and plum-pudding intheir pocket to take away the taste o' mun; and that's better than emptyspunes, eh?"

  "For them that get it," said Jack. "But for them that don't--" And witha sigh he returned to his small ale, and then lingered in and out of theinn, watching the dinner as it went into the best room, where the guestswere assembled.

  And as he lounged there, Amyas went in, and saw him, and held out hishand, and said--

  "Hillo, Jack! how goes the world? How you've grown!" and passedon;--what had Jack Brimblecombe to do with Rose Salterne?

  So Jack lingered on, hovering around the fragrant smell like a fly rounda honey-pot, till he found himself invisibly attracted, and as it wereled by the nose out of the passage into the adjoining room, and to thatside of the room where there was a door; and once there he could nothelp hearing what passed inside; till Rose Salterne's name fell on hisear. So, as it was ordained, he was taken in the fact. And now beholdhim brought in red-hand to judgment, not without a kick or two fromthe wrathful foot of Amyas Leigh. Whereat there fell on him a storm ofabuse, which, for the honor of that gallant company, I shall not give indetail; but which abuse, strange to say, seemed to have no effect on theimpenitent and unabashed Jack, who, as soon as he could get his breath,made answer fiercely, amid much puffing and blowing.

  "What business have I here? As much as any of you. If you had asked mein, I would have come: but as you didn't, I came without asking."

  "You shameless rascal!" said Cary. "Come if you were asked, where therewas good wine? I'll warrant you for that!"

  "Why," said Amyas, "no lad ever had a cake at school but he woulddog him up one street and down another all day for the crumbs, thetrencher-scraping spaniel!"

  "Patience, masters!" said Frank. "That Jack's is somewhat of a gnathonicand parasitic soul, or stomach, all Bideford apple-women know; but Isuspect more than Deus Venter has brought him hither."

  "Deus eavesdropping, then. We shall have the whole story over the townby to-morrow," said another; beginning at that thought to feel somewhatashamed of his late enthusiasm.

  "Ah, Mr. Frank! You were always the only one that would stand up for me!Deus Venter, quotha? 'Twas Deus Cupid, it was!"

  A roar of laughter followed this announcement.

  "What?" asked Frank; "was it Cupid, then, who sneezed approval to ourlove, Jack, as he did to that of Dido and Aeneas?"

  But Jack went on desperately.

  "I was in the next room, drinking of my beer. I couldn't help that,could I? And then I heard her name; and I couldn't help listening then.Flesh and blood couldn't."

  "Nor fat either!"

  "No, nor fat, Mr. Cary. Do you suppose fat men haven't souls to be savedas well as thin ones, and hearts to burst, too, as well as stomachs?Fat! Fat can feel, I reckon, as well as lean. Do you suppose there'snaught inside here but beer?"

  And he laid his hand, as Drayton might have said, on that stout bastion,hornwork, ravelin, or demilune, which formed the outworks to the citadelof his purple isle of man.

  "Naught but beer?--Cheese, I suppose?"

  "Bread?"

  "Beef?"

  "Love!" cried Jack. "Yes, Love!--Ay, you laugh; but my eyes are not sogrown up with fat but what I can see what's fair as well as you."

  "Oh, Jack, naughty Jack, dost thou heap sin on sin, and luxury ongluttony?"

  "Sin? If I sin, you sin: I tell you, and I don't care who knows it, I'veloved her these three years as well as e'er a one of you, I have. I'vethought o' nothing else, prayed for nothing else, God forgive me! Andthen you laugh at me, because I'm a poor parson's son, and you finegentlemen: God made us both, I reckon. You?--you make a deal of givingher up to-day. Why, it's what I've done for three miserable years asever poor sinner spent; ay, from the first day I said to myself, 'Jack,if you can't have that pearl, you'll have none; and that you can'thave, for it's meat for your masters: so conquer or die.' And I couldn'tconquer. I can't help loving her, worshipping her, no more than you; andI will die: but you needn't laugh meanwhile at me that have done as muchas you, and will do again."

  "It is the old tale," said Frank to himself; "whom will not lovetransform into a hero?"

  And so it was. Jack's squeaking voice was firm and manly, his pig'seyes flashed very fire, his gestures were so free and earnest, that theungainliness of his figure was forgotten; and when he finished witha violent burst of tears, Frank, forgetting his wounds, sprang up andcaught him by the hand.

  "John Brimblecombe, forgive me! Gentlemen, if we are gentlemen, weought to ask his pardon. Has he not shown already more chivalry, moreself-denial, and therefore more true love, than any of us? My friends,let the fierceness of affection, which we have used as an excuse formany a sin of our own, excuse his listening to a conversation in whichhe well deserved to bear a part."

  "Ah," said Jack, "you make me one of your brotherhood; and see if I donot dare to suffer as much as any of you! You laugh? Do you fancy nonecan use a sword unless he has a baker's dozen of quarterings in hisarms, or that Oxford scholars know only how to handle a pen?"

  "Let us try his metal," said St. Leger. "Here's my sword, Jack; draw,Coffin! and have at him."

  "Nonsense!" said Coffin, looking somewhat disgusted at the notion offighting a man of Jack's rank; but Jack caught at the weapon offered tohim.

  "Give me a buckler, and have at any of you!"

  "Here's a chair bottom," cried Cary; and Jack, seizing it in his left,flourished his sword so fiercely, and called so loudly to Coffin to comeon, that all present found it necessary, unless they wished blood to bespilt, to turn the matter off with a laugh: but Jack would not hear ofit.

  "Nay: if you will let me be of your brotherhood, well and good: but ifnot, one or other I will fight: and that's flat."

  "You see, gentlemen," said Amyas, "we must admit him or die the death;so we needs must go when Sir Urian drives. Come up, Jack, and take theoaths. You admit him, gentlemen?"

  "Let me but be your chaplain," said Jack, "and pray for your luck whenyou're at the wars. If I do stay at home in a country curacy, 'tis notmuch that you need be jealous of me with her, I reckon," said Jack, witha pathetical glance at his own stomach.

  "Sia!" said Cary: "but if he be admitted, it must be done according tothe solemn forms and ceremonies in such cases provided. Take him intothe next room, Amyas, and prepare him for his initiation."

  "What's that?" asked Amyas, puzzled by the word. But judging from thecorner of Will's eye that initiation was Latin for a practical joke,he led forth his victim behind the arras again, and waited five minuteswhile the room was being darkened, till Frank's voice called to him tobring in the neophyte.

  "John Brimblecombe," said Frank, in a sepulchral tone, "you cannot beignorant, as a scholar and bachelor of Oxford, of that dread sacramentby which Catiline bound the soul of his fellow-conspirators, in orderthat both by the daring of the deed he might have proof of theirsincerity, and by the horror thereof astringe their souls by adamantinefetters, and Novem-Stygian oaths, to that wherefrom hereafter theweakness of the flesh might shrink. Wherefore, O Jack! we too havedetermined, following that ancient and classical example, to fill, as hedid, a bowl with the lifeblood of our most heroic selves, and to pledgeeach other therein, with vows whereat the stars shall tremble in theirspheres, and Luna, blushing, veil her silver cheeks. Your blood alone iswanted to fill up the goblet. Sit down, John Brimblecombe, and bare yourarm!"

  "But, Mr. Frank!--" said Jack, who was as superstitious as any oldwife, and, what with the darkness and the discours
e, already in a coldperspiration.

  "But me no buts! or depart as recreant, not by the door like a man, butup the chimney like a flittermouse."

  "But, Mr. Frank!"

  "Thy vital juice, or the chimney! Choose!" roared Cary in his ear.

  "Well, if I must," said Jack; "but it's desperate hard that because youcan't keep faith without these barbarous oaths, I must take them too,that have kept faith these three years without any."

  At this pathetic appeal Frank nearly melted: but Amyas and Cary hadthrust the victim into a chair and all was prepared for the sacrifice.

  "Bind his eyes, according to the classic fashion," said Will.

  "Oh no, dear Mr. Cary; I'll shut them tight enough, I warrant: but notwith your dagger, dear Mr. William--sure, not with your dagger? I can'tafford to lose blood, though I do look lusty--I can't indeed; sure, apin would do--I've got one here, to my sleeve, somewhere--Oh!"

  "See the fount of generous juice! Flow on, fair stream. How hebleeds!--pints, quarts! Ah, this proves him to be in earnest!"

  "A true lover's blood is always at his fingers' ends."

  "He does not grudge it; of course not. Eh, Jack? What matters an oddgallon for her sake?"

  "For her sake? Nothing, nothing! Take my life, if you will: but--oh,gentlemen, a surgeon, if you love me! I'm going off--I 'm fainting!"

  "Drink, then, quick; drink and swear! Pat his back, Cary. Courage, man!it will be over in a minute. Now, Frank!--"

  And Frank spoke--

  "If plighted troth I fail, or secret speech reveal, May Cocytean ghostsaround my pillow squeal; While Ate's brazen claws distringe my spleenin sunder, And drag me deep to Pluto's keep, 'mid brimstone, smoke, andthunder!"

  "Placetne, domine?"

  "Placet!" squeaked Jack, who thought himself at the last gasp, andgulped down full three-quarters of the goblet which Cary held to hislips.

  "Ugh--Ah--Puh! Mercy on us! It tastes mighty like wine!"

  "A proof, my virtuous brother," said Frank, "first, of thyabstemiousness, which has thus forgotten what wine tastes like; andnext, of thy pure and heroical affection, by which thy carnal sensesbeing exalted to a higher and supra-lunar sphere, like those Platonicaldaemonizomenoi and enthusiazomenoi (of whom Jamblichus says that theywere insensible to wounds and flame, and much more, therefore, to evilsavors), doth make even the most nauseous draught redolent of thatcelestial fragrance, which proceeding, O Jack! from thine own inwardvirtue, assimilates by sympathy even outward accidents unto its ownharmony and melody; for fragrance is, as has been said well, the songof flowers, and sweetness, the music of apples--Ahem! Go in peace, thouhast conquered!"

  "Put him out of the door, Will," said Amyas, "or he will swoon on ourhands."

  "Give him some sack," said Frank.

  "Not a blessed drop of yours, sir," said Jack. "I like good wine as wellas any man on earth, and see as little of it; but not a drop ofyours, sirs, after your frumps and flouts about hanging-on andtrencher-scraping. When I first began to love her, I bid good-bye to alldirty tricks; for I had some one then for whom to keep myself clean."

  And so Jack was sent home, with a pint of good red Alicant wine in him(more, poor fellow, than he had tasted at once in his life before);while the rest, in high glee with themselves and the rest of the world,relighted the candles, had a right merry evening, and parted like goodfriends and sensible gentlemen of devon, thinking (all except Frank)Jack Brimblecombe and his vow the merriest jest they had heard formany a day. After which they all departed: Amyas and Cary to Winter'ssquadron; Frank (as soon as he could travel) to the Court again;and with him young Basset, whose father Sir Arthur, being in London,procured for him a page's place in Leicester's household. Fortescue andChicester went to their brothers in Dublin; St. Leger to his unclethe Marshal of Munster; Coffin joined Champernoun and Norris in theNetherlands; and so the Brotherhood of the Rose was scattered far andwide, and Mistress Salterne was left alone with her looking-glass.