Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen ElizabethKingsley, Charles
History
Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth
Kingsley, Charles
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction
“What! Frank too?” she said, half to herself; but her sons knew what she
meant. Amyas's warlike life, honorable and righteous as she knew it
to be, she had borne as a sad necessity: but that Frank as well should
become “a man of blood,” was more than her gentle heart could face at
first sight. That one youthful duel of his he had carefully concealed
from her, knowing her feeling on such matters. And it seemed too
dreadful to her to associate that gentle spirit with all the ferocities
and the carnage of a battlefield. “And yet,” said she to herself, “is
this but another of the self-willed idols which I must renounce one by
one?” And then, catching at a last hope, she answered--
“Frank must at least ask the queen's leave to go; and if she permits,
how can I gainsay her wisdom?”
And so the conversation dropped, sadly enough.
But now began a fresh perplexity in Frank's soul, which amused Amyas at
first, when it seemed merely jest, but nettled him a good deal when
he found it earnest. For Frank looked forward to asking the queen's
permission for his voyage with the most abject despondency and terror.
Two or three days passed before he could make up his mind to ask for
an interview with her; and he spent the time in making as much interest
with Leicester, Hatton, and Sidney, as if he were about to sue for a
reprieve from the scaffold.
So said Amyas, remarking, further, that the queen could not cut his head
off for wanting to go to sea.
“But what axe so sharp as her frown?” said Frank in most lugubrious
tone.
Amyas began to whistle in a very rude way.
“Ah, my brother, you cannot comprehend the pain of parting from her.”
“No, I can't. I would die for the least hair of her royal head, God
bless it! but I could live very well from now till Doomsday without ever
setting eyes on the said head.”
“Plato's Troglodytes regretted not that sunlight which they had never
beheld.”
Amyas, not understanding this recondite conceit, made no answer to it,
and there the matter ended for the time. But at last Frank obtained his
audience; and after a couple of hours' absence returned quite pale and
exhausted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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