Great Britain -- History -- Commonwealth and Protectorate, 1649-1660 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
“Nay, that is truth, if the devil spoke it,” said the knight; “and I
thank Heaven I can follow good counsel, though old Nick gives it. And
so, friend, touching these same Commissioners, bear them this message;
that Sir Henry Lee is keeper of Woodstock Park, with right of waif and
stray, vert and venison, as complete as any of them have to their
estate—that is, if they possess any estate but what they have gained by
plundering honest men. Nevertheless, he will give place to those who
have made their might their right, and will not expose the lives of
good and true men, where the odds are so much against them. And he
protests that he makes this surrender, neither as acknowledging of
these so termed Commissioners, nor as for his own individual part
fearing their force, but purely to avoid the loss of English blood, of
which so much hath been spilt in these late times.”
“It is well spoken,” said the steward of the Commissioners; “and
therefore, I pray you, let us walk together into the house, that thou
may’st deliver up unto me the vessels, and gold and silver ornaments,
belonging unto the Egyptian Pharaoh, who committed them to thy
keeping.”
“What vessels?” exclaimed the fiery old knight; “and belonging to whom?
Unbaptized dog, speak civil of the Martyr in my presence, or I will do
a deed misbecoming of me on that caitiff corpse of thine!”—And shaking
his daughter from his right arm, the old man laid his hand on his
rapier.
His antagonist, on the contrary, kept his temper completely, and waving
his hand to add impression to his speech, he said, with a calmness
which aggravated Sir Henry’s wrath, “Nay, good friend, I prithee be
still, and brawl not—it becomes not grey hairs and feeble arms to rail
and rant like drunkards. Put me not to use the carnal weapon in mine
own defence, but listen to the voice of reason. See’st thou not that
the Lord hath decided this great controversy in favour of us and ours,
against thee and thine? Wherefore, render up thy stewardship
peacefully, and deliver up to me the chattels of the Man, Charles
Stewart.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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