Great Britain -- History -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
"The late Duke of Monmouth," he continued solemnly, "set foot in this
realm in open rebellion; not only so, but he and those under him
deliberately invented and spread abroad scandal concerning the religion,
the honourable intentions, and the virtue of our noble sovereign.
Moreover, he had the effrontery actually to declare himself, here at
Taunton, lawful King of Britain, thereby seeking to depose his own
uncle. Furthermore, he hath since proved himself coward, not alone by
his conduct upon the field of Sedgemoor, but also by the manner of his
meeting death. That men should be so ready to turn from allegiance to
their king, to support the claims of such an one, so worthless and so
base, betrays a condition of mind unstable and untrustworthy. For
howsoever they may choose to prate of religion and justice, they show
but shallow reasoning. For religion and justice are protected by our
lord, the King, and need no other defender, and the alleged dangers
threatening the Protestant Church are but the inventions of fools. ’Tis
no regard for religion and justice which directs such men, but a love of
excitement or a hope to escape from patient, honest toil by a chance
turn of events in the fortune of war." Here he cast a severe glance
down the table in the direction of his apprentices. "For Mistress
Barbara," he continued, "I will, if only for her honoured father’s sake,
do what I can, and I have small fear but that all severe punishment may
be averted. But a woman hath no reason to interfere in such affairs,
and she must not be surprised if she meet her reward. I rejoice, for
his sake, that Sir Rupert hath escaped, and pray that his misfortunes
and hardships may tame his hot blood. ’Tis indeed a sad business."
So the old man droned on solemnly, his wife from time to time nodding
approval, till Cicely choked over her meat, and felt she could endure no
more, but must scream aloud to stop this dreary tirade, every word of
which was a sword-thrust in her over-wrought heart.
But diversion came from an unexpected quarter.
Among the apprentices at the lower end of the table sat a
broad-shouldered, long-legged youth, whose sharp, eager face was
surmounted by a shock of fiery red hair. Throughout this discourse he
had evinced the utmost restlessness, shaking his head, clenching his
fists, half-rising from his seat, and showing all the signs of entire
dissension from the speaker. At length he could restrain himself no
longer, but bidding defiance to all custom and etiquette at his master’s
table, he leaned forward eagerly and broke into the conversation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account