Читать книгу William Shakespeare as He Lived: An Historical Tale - Henry Curling - Страница 18

Table of Contents

'Twas a pleasing picture, that old knight taking his evening nap in his oak pannelled room, so quiet and so retired, so undisturbed, except by the cooing of the wood-pigeon, or the distant bay of the hound in the kennel.

The evening breeze sighed drearily through the branches of the gigantic cedar-tree in the garden, and whispered softly through the luxuriant plants and shrubs which hung about the diamond-paned windows.

'Tis a sweet time that evening hour, in an old mansion far removed from the bustle of the world. The oak floor, too, in the centre of the apartment, was coloured faintly by the many tints reflected through the stained glass in the upper compartments of the windows, and where the arms and crest of the Cloptons were variously multiplied and emblazoned. The dark polished oak of the huge chimney-piece, as the shadows of evening descended, seemed framed of iron or ebony, the grotesque figures, here and there ornamenting the higher parts, with their demoniac faces and satyr-like bodies, seeming ready to pounce upon whoever came within their reach.

Whilst the old knight enjoyed his siesta, every now and then giving a sort of start in his deep sleep, or a prolonged snore, and then twitching his muscular face and changing his position, the door of the apartment was gently opened, and a tall shadowy figure, after hesitating for a few moments at the threshold, and looking round, entered cautiously, and approaching the sleeper stood and gazed long and fixedly at his countenance.

What a contrast might a looker-on have observed in those two faces!—the one round, ruddy, redolent of health, and shewing no traces of guilt or care; the other worn, pale, anxious, and cadaverous-looking. The broad brim of the stranger's hat was drawn down and pulled low over his forehead, his dark and grizzled hair looked thin and perished, matching well with the iron gray of his complexion, and his forked beard, presenting altogether a worn and haggard appearance, a man of dark passions, evil thoughts, and sinister disposition.

After gazing for some time at Sir Hugh, the stranger laid his heavy gauntlet upon his shoulder and suddenly awoke him.

The knight opened his eyes, stared at the dark countenance so suddenly presented to him for a few moments, and then starting up, stepped a pace or two back and laid his hand upon the hilt of his rapier.

The grim stranger smiled at the startled look of the old knight, "Fear me not, Sir Hugh," he said. "I come not with intent to do thee harm."

"Fear thee," said Sir Hugh contemptuously, "wherefore should I fear? But thou comest upon me in my secure hour here—and I know thee not. Stand off, lest I smite thee."

"That would be a poor reception for an old friend," said the other, smiling a grim smile.

"An old friend!" said Sir Hugh, in tones of surprise; "truly then thou art an old friend with a new face. May heaven protect me, if ever I looked upon that white-livered visage of thine before."

"Art thou quite sure of that, Sir Hugh Clopton?" said the stranger. "Look again; time and care and climate have written, I dare be sworn, strange defeatures in my face, but yet methinks twenty years ago the name of Parry was not altogether unknown at Clopton."

"Parry!" said Sir Hugh, starting; "art thou Gilbert Parry? and what doth the banished traitor Parry within my walls? Hence, sirrah; I wish for the companionship of no man polluted with crimes such as thine."

"Nay, soft, Sir Hugh," said the visitor, "I come with credentials from one thou darest not slight. Look ye, I am bearer of a letter from the Nuncio Campeggio, and I demand speech with Father Eustace, who dwells in thy house here."

Sir Hugh again started; he took the letter from the hand of his visitor, and read it attentively.

"Truly," he said, "the letter is as thou say'st. In it I find I am ordered to give thee shelter here for the space of one week; affording thee and those with whom thou consortest such secresy and seclusion as thou may'st desire. I dare not deny the hospitality so enjoined, but in good sooth I had as lief thou had'st sought it elsewhere, Gilbert Parry."

"'Tis well," said Parry, taking his riding-cloak from his shoulders; "Clopton hath secret chambers, I know, as well as that devoted servants of the Catholic Church dwell beneath its roof."

"May I not know," inquired Sir Hugh, "of the business which employs the talents of Gilbert Parry, and makes the Pope's Nuncio his introducer within my walls?"

"At more fitting opportunity perchance thou mayest," returned Parry, whose manner had become more assured after he observed the impression the letter he had delivered had made; "at the present moment I require rest and refreshment."

Sir Hugh said no more; he stepped to a concealed pannel beside the huge chimney-piece, and drawing it aside, ushered his guest into a small closet-like apartment, and then carefully closed the pannel again. A narrow winding staircase ascended from this small room into the chamber above, and which was only known or used by Sir Hugh himself, together with Martin and the priest, who occasionally visited at the Hall.

After entering, Sir Hugh signed to his guest to ascend the staircase.

"Thou wilt find every accommodation here in this chamber," he said, "and refreshment shall be served to thee by one I can trust. Father Eustace is at present absent from Clopton, but to-morrow I expect he will return."

"I would confer with him without delay," said Parry, "so soon as he returns."

"Be it so," said Sir Hugh, retiring from the apartment, and descending the stairs; seeming, as he did so, by his manner, not sorry to withdraw from the companionship of his new guest.

As soon as he had descended into the small apartment we have before described, he paused for a few moments, and then unlocked and opened a low postern door, which admitted into the garden, and, guided by the voices of his daughter and her party in the distance, immediately sought them.

It was by no means uncommon for the Catholics, during this reign, to hold secret intercourse with each other after the fashion we have just described, going from house to house with the utmost care; the more violent and remorseless making it their practice to seek refuge oft-times amongst the quieter gentry, and, under cover of their respectability, carrying on their designs with greater security.

In pursuance of such custom, Sir Hugh's new visitor had now sought shelter at Clopton. He had, on that same evening, arrived at Stratford in company with others, and immediately on dismounting from his horse, had walked across the meadows, entered the grounds, and being well acquainted with the localities, introduced himself into the house without being seen by any one.

When Sir Hugh joined his daughter and her party, there was a something of anxiety upon his brow which was not usual with him. But so deeply interested were Charlotte and Walter Arderne with the conversation of their new formed acquaintance, that they observed it not. The quick eye, however, of the shrewd Martin (who so well knew his old master's habits) saw at a glance that something had puddled the clear spirit of the knight; and advancing towards him, they walked apart and held converse together.

"Is there ill news toward?" said Martin. "Something I perceive hath disturbed you, and broken in upon your slumbers."

"I have had a visitor, Martin," said Sir Hugh; "one with whom I had long closed the accounts of acquaintanceship as a dangerous companion."

"Know I the man?" inquired Martin.

"Like myself you did so," returned Sir Hugh; "but evil courses drove him from the country some years back. You remember Gilbert Parry?"

"What," said Martin, "he who was condemned to death as a traitor some five years ago, and to whom the Queen graciously granted a free pardon?"

"The same. He hath been with me just now."

"He was ever a restless dangerous knave," said Martin; "his visit might well have been spared. I trust it was a short one."

"Nay," said Sir Hugh, "he hath claimed the hospitality of Clopton on matters of moment connected with holy mother Church, and hath shewn me letters from the Nuncio Campeggio, and from Ragazoni at Paris."

"He comes from abroad, then, I dare be sworn," said Martin, "and on no good errand depend on't, and he makes Clopton his place of residence on his first arrival, in order to be in security whilst he spies into the localities, and sounds his instruments; ah, and by my fay, 'tis a crafty and a dangerous companion, whose designs may get us into trouble. But an I dive not into his contrivances I would I might never taste hippocras again."

"I would have thee do so, Martin, if it be possible," said Sir Hugh, "for I like not such guests; albeit, their visits are sanctioned and enjoined by the mighty in our Church. Nay, it was but last week I had a visit from Ralph Somerville, of Warwick, who held me in dangerous converse a whole hour, upon the necessity of smiting all heretics and persecutors. His discourses on religious matters shewed a distempered brain. Troth, I was glad to be rid of him."

"'Tis strange," said Martin, "to behold the spirit which everywhere actuates those who profess more religion than their neighbours, both Protestants and Catholics. By my faith, men will dispute upon the subject, cut a throat for religion, indite most learned matter appertaining—anything but live for it."

"'Tis even so, Martin," said Sir Hugh with a sigh, "and therefore doth it behove us, and all those who are not of this bigoted and intolerant spirit, to guard our hearths from the danger of such association. A presentiment of evil is upon my mind since this man's coming, which I cannot shake off. Be it thy business to look to his wants this evening. To-morrow Father Eustace returns, and we shall then know more about his designs."

"Ah, that Eustace!" muttered Martin to himself. "Hath he ever seen this man?" he inquired aloud.

"I think not," said Sir Hugh; "they have never met to my knowledge."

"Enough," said Martin; "leave him to me. Now break we off, and let us join our party. See where the lady Charlotte leads her two attendant swains toward the house yonder. This new-found friend, Sir Hugh," continued Martin, "this youth, whose merits seem so far beyond his fortunes, is he likely to remain long at Clopton?"

"He tarries here to-night, Martin," said Sir Hugh, "and shall be ever welcome. We are deeply his debtor."

"Humph," said Martin significantly, "I supposed as much, and I suppose it must even be so—but——"