Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
So early was I in London town that I had to wait fully an hour before I
could get breakfast, but this I presently obtained at an inn which stood
close by Ludgate, and within sight of Fleet Prison.
I found that the talk of every one was concerning the coming of the new
king, and every man seemed to be on the tip-toe of expectation
concerning the revelries which were to take place when he appeared.
"Ay," said the innkeeper to me, "I know that Old Nol made the English
feared the world all o'er, while never such an army was ever known as
he led to battle; but what of that? He wanted to turn the whole land
into Independent meeting houses. He wanted every man to turn
psalm-singer, and would have none about him but those who spoke the
Puritan cant. If ever a man loved to see a cock-fight, or a bull baited,
he was treated like a murderer, while no man dared to drink as an
Englishman should drink. But that is all over now. The king loves his
wine and his pleasure even as a king should. That's why he could not do
with the sour-faced Scots. When he comes we shall be able to drink
again, and these psalm-singing chaps will have to bark at back doors.
Old Drury will have its fun, and a man will be able to speak to a pretty
woman without being placed in the lock-up."
"Think you that aught will be done to those who fought against the new
king's father?" I asked.
"Ay, that is what people say. Men have it that every Puritan will be
dragged out of his house, and every man who fought against his sacred
Majesty's person will be hanged. As for these Independents, well,
already they who carried their heads so high be slinking along back ways
like whipped dogs. Ah well, it is right. Let us live a merry life, and
God save the king!"
Presently, as I went towards the river, I found out that the man had
spoken truly: I saw men clad in sober-coloured garments talking one to
another, as though some calamity were near. And this was no wonder, for
presently, as the number of the people in the streets increased I saw
that these same men were howled at by the mob. Some pointed to the
Bibles which hung from their girdles, and called out "Pharisees,
hypocrites!" Others again cried out "Psalm-singing rogues!" while others
threatened them with the stocks and the pillory when the king came.
"It becomes worse each day," I heard one of these sober-clad men say to
another.
"Ay the Scriptures be fulfilled; and the devil is unloosed."
"The people of God will fare badly, methinks."
"Nevertheless, the new king hath promised that every man shall be
forgiven for what he hath done."
"The new king! The son of Charles Stuart, a traitor and a liar whom our
great Oliver beheaded! As well expect mercy from a wolf."
"Hush, man! If we be heard we shall be taken note of. Let us be wise as
serpents and harmless as doves."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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