Andrew Golding: A Tale of the Great PlagueKeeling, Anne E.
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Andrew Golding: A Tale of the Great Plague
Keeling, Anne E.
Plague -- England -- London -- Fiction
'I can hardly tell,' said Matthew; 'he had a piercing eye, I wot, and a
voice as clear as a bell; very neat and seemly he was in his attire, and
yet he might have been a ruffling cavalier if one judged by his hair,
which he wore long and curled.'
'That is much how George Fox himself has been described to me,' said
Aunt Golding.
'Nay, I cannot think it was any such man,' said Matthew, 'for he talked
very reasonably, plain sense and plain words, such as a simple man like
me could not choose but understand; and one told me how George Fox
should be in Lancashire about this time.'
'Well, what said he to persuade my poor lad?' asked aunt.
'Why, he bade him remember certain works of mercy he had already in
hand, which should not be neglected to gratify a mad fancy of thrusting
his head in the lion's mouth whenever it was opened against him. So
Master Andrew was ashamed of his rashness, and was persuaded to take
himself away for a time; and we parted very lovingly. He says it shall
not be long ere you hear from him, mistress.'
I believe, in spite of Matthew's contrary opinion, that Andrew's
counsellor was no other than the famous man whom our aunt had named. But
I have no proof of this, only mine own strong persuasion.
Not many days hereafter, we had proof that Mr. Stokes had been very
honest in his warning to us. There came constables to the Grange, who
showed a warrant to seize the body of Andrew Golding, charged with many
strange misdemeanours, but especially with refusing the Oaths of
Supremacy and Allegiance. I do not believe the poor youth ever had
refused them; but this was the common trap set for the Friends, who were
known to decline all oath-taking, because of that saying of our Lord's,
'Swear not at all,'--a harmless scruple at the worst, which never ought
to be used, as I think, against honest and peaceable subjects.
We were now heartily glad that Andrew was absent, and that we could
truly say, we knew not where he was; nor were the constables much
grieved at it. One of them found an occasion of whispering to Aunt
Golding, 'If you can get word to the young man, let him know this air is
unwholesome for him just now;' after which they went hastily away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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