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
In fine there being nought left to say, save on my part that I would
immediately write an account of all to my father (whom I would not
otherwise commit) we parted at the door, and I returned slowly through
the great unfriendly City, sick at heart. Now I had not proceeded far
upon my way when it came upon me that I would seek out my old tutor,
Mr. Jordan; for I greatly yearned after comfort and kindly speech,
which I knew would be his to give, upon the first hint of my
misfortune. By good hap I remembered the lodging where he had said he
might be found, which was in a room of a great house called
Northumberland House in the parish, and over against the Church, of St.
Katherine Colman; which mansion having fallen from its first estate (as
many other within the City have done also) is now parted among such as
do pay rent for their use of chambers therein, as few or many as they
please.
Thither then I inquired out direction; but whether it were by reason of
the intricacy of manifold streets and alleys, or of the mist that from
first overcasting the sky had now descended and thickly muffled up even
the considerable buildings, or else of the opening again of my wound
that sorely sucked away my strength; I say whatsoever the cause were, I
soon confessed myself at a stand and quite bewildered. And moreover to
make bad worse, I perceived myself to have run into a foul and steep
lane, of a most unsavoury stench; the way being nought else than a
kennel pestered with garbage. None seemed to be inhabiting this
unclean byway, or at the least not occupying their business in it; but
the doors stood shut all, and the windows so guarded as one might think
the plague had visited the place and died for lack of life to feed on.
Meanwhile the fog seemed to mitigate something of its blackness before
me; and this it was, I suppose, that drove me still forward rather than
by returning upon my steps to encounter the worst of it that yet hung
like a pall between the desolate houses.
At length I issued at the bottom end into a sort of wide place or yard
(for I could not rightly tell which it were, so dim all lay and I so
confused by pain), but by a certain saltness in the air I guessed it
might be near beside the river, and perhaps led down to one of the
wharves or hithes thereupon. But that I was out of all bearing I knew,
and the knowledge sank my courage utterly, so that I could no more, but
sat down upon a stock by the wayside and wept for very bitterness.
I remember that I said it over like a creed an hundred times that I was
alone, and although I said it not, it beat upon my brain that I was
very near to death.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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