Idonia: A Romance of Old LondonWallis, Arthur Frederick
History
Idonia: A Romance of Old London
Wallis, Arthur Frederick
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
"He has had licence granted to write," returned my father; "which is a
mark of favour not oftentimes bestowed. He saith he is well treated,
though for the rest his chamber is but a mean cold one and evil
smelling, and the ward upon him strict, especially when he is had in to
the Constable for examination, which hath been several times renewed.
As for the cause, there would appear by his letter to be little enough,
save such as gathers from a host of fears, and from his known devotion
to my Lord of Arundel; which indeed was the direct occasion of his
apprehension. Of a former intimacy with that witless Somerville
moreover, he is accused, and the mere supposition of it goes hard
against him; but upon this head he hath strong hope of his exculpation,
having only, as he writes, once met with the man, and then in a public
place without any the least concealment."
He rose from his seat as he ended speaking, and took a turn or two
about the room, his hands clasped behind his back and his head bent in
thought. I suppose that never before had I observed my father with so
close attention, having ever held him (as I have said) in a kind of
negligent contempt for his mild and bookish ways. But now I perceived
a nobility of bearing in him which took me strangely, and withal, a
secret strength. His scholar's indifference he had quite cast aside,
and appeared full of purpose, shrewdly weighing each circumstance of
his brother's case, and examining the good and bad in it, in order to
the more directly assist him. This unused activity of his so engaged
me that for awhile I could do nought but follow him with my eyes, until
the vision of my father always thus (as thus he might have been, save
for that great weight of sorrow warping him from his natural aptness),
this vision, I say, so moved me in his favour and against my uncle
Botolph, who was surely now receiving chastisement for his former sin,
that I could not contain myself.
"But, sir," I cried, "why should you concern yourself for a man that
hath wronged you so basely as my uncle did? And besides that," I
bethought myself to add in order to strengthen our excuse for leaving
him alone, "besides that, there is the unseemliness of your aiding a
man that the Queen's Majesty is offended withal. It is very probable
he is implicated in these treasons, who hath brought such treason into
household affairs, and the likelier still for his denying it."
Something in my father's countenance stayed me there, else would I have
spoken more; for there is nought so easy as to persuade ourselves 'tis
right to do nothing in a dangerous pass.
"Ay, ay," said my father slowly, "then your advice is to leave my
brother to perish."
"You are a magistrate, sir," I stammered, "and it surely behoves you to
assist in the arrest of traitors."
"Ay, and so it doth, Denis," said he, nodding, "but then, this
gentleman being already arrested, it seems that my poor assistance
therein is rendered in advance superfluous."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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