Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth CenturyFullerton, Georgiana
History
Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century
Fullerton, Georgiana
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction
"'Mistress,' quoth he, 'you have many chambers in your house, and he
hath not so much as a bed to lie in tonight;' and would not be
contented till she had charged a servant to get the fellow a lodging.
And me he once abused very roundly in his older years for the same
cause. There was one Jack Morris, an old man which worked sometimes in
Mr. Wells's stable, but did lie at a cottage out of the town. And one
day in winter, when it snowed, Master Basil would have me make this
fellow sleep in the house, because he was sick, he said, and he would
give him his own bed and lie himself on straw in the stable; and went
into so great a passion when I said he should not do so, for that he
was a mean person and could not lie in a gentleman's chamber, that my
young master cries out, 'Have a care. Mistress Mason, I do not come in
the night and shake you out of your own bed, for to give you a taste
of the cold floor, which yet is not, I promise you, so cold as the
street into which you would turn this poor diseased man.' And then he
fell to coaxing of me till I consented for to send a mattress and a
warm rug to the stable for this pestilent old man, who I warrant you
was not so sick as he did assume to be, but had sufficient cunning for
to cozen Master Basil out of his money. Lord bless the lad! I have
seen him run out with his dinner in his hand, if he did but see a
ragged urchin in the streets, and gift him with it; and then would
slug lustily about the house--methinks I do hear him now--
'Dinner, O dinner's a rare good thing
Alike for a beggar, alike for a king.'"
Basil opened then his eyes and stared about him.
"Why, Mistress Mason," he cried, "beshrew me if you are not rehearsing
a rare piece of poesy!--the only one I ever did indite." At the which
speech we all laughed; but our merriment was short; for time had sped
faster than we thought, and Basil said he must needs return to the
Borough to forecast with Mr. Hodgson and Tom Price means to convey Mr.
Watson to the ship, which was out at sea nigh unto the shore, and a
boat must be had to carry them there, and withal such appliances
procured as should ease his broken limbs.
"Is there not danger" I asked, "in moving him so soon?"
"Yea," he said, "but a less fearful danger than in long tarrying in
this country."
This was too true to be gainsayed; and so thanking the good
housekeeper we left the house, which had seemed for those few hours
like onto a harbor from a stormy sea, wherein both our barks,
shattered by the waves, had refitted in peace.
"Farewell, Basil," I mournfully said; "God knoweth for how long."
"Not for very long," he answered. "In three months I shall have crept
out of my wardship. Then, if it please God, I will return, and so deal
with your good uncle that we shall soon after that be married."
"Yea," I answered, "if so be that my father is then in safety."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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