Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction
Yet we might have come through without declared conflict, had not a
thing befallen us at Canterbury that brought Nell into fresh temptation,
and thereby broke the strained cords of amity. The doings of the King
at Dover had set the country in some stir; there was no love of the
French, and less of the Pope; men were asking, and pretty loudly, why
Madame came; she had been seen in Canterbury, the Duke of York had given
a great entertainment there for her. They did not know what I knew, but
they were uneasy concerning the King's religion and their own. Yet Nell
must needs put her head well out of window as we drove in. I know not
whether the sequel were what she desired, it was at least what she
seemed not to fear; a fellow caught sight of her and raised a cheer. The
news spread quick among the idle folk in the street, and the busy,
hearing it, came out of their houses. A few looked askance at our
protector, but the larger part, setting their Protestantism above their
scruples, greeted her gladly, and made a procession for her, cheering
and encouraging her with cries which had more friendliness than delicacy
in them. Now indeed I dropped behind and rode beside the mounted
servant. The fellow was all agrin, triumphing in his mistress's
popularity. Even so she herself exulted in it, and threw all around nods
and smiles, ay, and, alas, repartees conceived much in the same spirit
as the jests that called them forth. I could have cried on the earth to
swallow me, not for my own sake (in itself the scene was entertaining
enough, however little it might tend to edification), but on account of
Mistress Barbara. Fairly I was afraid to ride forward and see her face,
and dreaded to remember that I had brought her to this situation. But
Nell laughed and jested, flinging back at me now and again a look that
mocked my glum face and declared her keen pleasure in my perplexity and
her scorn of Barbara's shame. Where now were the tenderness and sympathy
which had made their meeting beautiful? The truce was ended and war
raged relentless.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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