"We have had an unhappy time of it with the good knight, Master Edmund,"
said the curate. "I have not suffered so much since I was torn away from
my beloved flock, and compelled to abandon them to the Romish wolves."

"That was in TERTIO MARIAE," said Master Mumblazen.

"In the name of Heaven," continued the curate, "tell us, has your
time been better spent than ours, or have you any news of that
unhappy maiden, who, being for so many years the principal joy of this
broken-down house, is now proved our greatest unhappiness? Have you not
at least discovered her place of residence?"

"I have," replied Tressilian. "Know you Cumnor Place, near Oxford?"

"Surely," said the clergyman; "it was a house of removal for the monks
of Abingdon."

"Whose arms," said Master Michael, "I have seen over a stone chimney in
the hall,--a cross patonce betwixt four martlets."

"There," said Tressilian, "this unhappy maiden resides, in company with
the villain Varney. But for a strange mishap, my sword had revenged all
our injuries, as well as hers, on his worthless head."

"Thank God, that kept thine hand from blood-guiltiness, rash young man!"
answered the curate. "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, and I will
repay it. It were better study to free her from the villain's nets of
infamy."

"They are called, in heraldry, LAQUEI AMORIS, or LACS D'AMOUR," said
Mumblazen.

"It is in that I require your aid, my friends," said Tressilian. "I
am resolved to accuse this villain, at the very foot of the throne, of
falsehood, seduction, and breach of hospitable laws. The Queen shall
hear me, though the Earl of Leicester, the villain's patron, stood at
her right hand."

"Her Grace," said the curate, "hath set a comely example of continence
to her subjects, and will doubtless do justice on this inhospitable
robber. But wert thou not better apply to the Earl of Leicester, in the
first place, for justice on his servant? If he grants it, thou dost save
the risk of making thyself a powerful adversary, which will certainly
chance if, in the first instance, you accuse his master of the horse and
prime favourite before the Queen."

"My mind revolts from your counsel," said Tressilian. "I cannot brook
to plead my noble patron's cause the unhappy Amy's cause--before any one
save my lawful Sovereign. Leicester, thou wilt say, is noble. Be it so;
he is but a subject like ourselves, and I will not carry my plaint to
him, if I can do better. Still, I will think on what thou hast said; but
I must have your assistance to persuade the good Sir Hugh to make me his
commissioner and fiduciary in this matter, for it is in his name I must
speak, and not in my own. Since she is so far changed as to dote upon
this empty profligate courtier, he shall at least do her the justice
which is yet in his power."

"Better she died CAELEBS and SINE PROLE," said Mumblazen, with more
animation than he usually expressed, "than part, PER PALE, the noble
coat of Robsart with that of such a miscreant!"

"If it be your object, as I cannot question," said the clergyman, "to
save, as much as is yet possible, the credit of this unhappy young
woman, I repeat, you should apply, in the first instance, to the Earl
of Leicester. He is as absolute in his household as the Queen in her
kingdom, and if he expresses to Varney that such is his pleasure, her
honour will not stand so publicly committed."

"You are right, you are right!" said Tressilian eagerly, "and I thank
you for pointing out what I overlooked in my haste. I little thought
ever to have besought grace of Leicester; but I could kneel to the proud
Dudley, if doing so could remove one shade of shame from this unhappy
damsel. You will assist me then to procure the necessary powers from Sir
Hugh Robsart?"

The curate assured him of his assistance, and the herald nodded assent.

"You must hold yourselves also in readiness to testify, in case you are
called upon, the openhearted hospitality which our good patron exercised
towards this deceitful traitor, and the solicitude with which he
laboured to seduce his unhappy daughter."

"At first," said the clergyman, "she did not, as it seemed to me, much
affect his company; but latterly I saw them often together."

"SEIANT in the parlour," said Michael Mumblazen, "and PASSANT in the
garden."

"I once came on them by chance," said the priest, "in the South wood,
in a spring evening. Varney was muffled in a russet cloak, so that I saw
not his face. They separated hastily, as they heard me rustle amongst
the leaves; and I observed she turned her head and looked long after
him."

"With neck REGUARDANT," said the herald. "And on the day of her flight,
and that was on Saint Austen's Eve, I saw Varney's groom, attired in his
liveries, hold his master's horse and Mistress Amy's palfrey, bridled
and saddled PROPER, behind the wall of the churchyard."

"And now is she found mewed up in his secret place of retirement," said
Tressilian. "The villain is taken in the manner, and I well wish he may
deny his crime, that I may thrust conviction down his false throat! But
I must prepare for my journey. Do you, gentlemen, dispose my patron to
grant me such powers as are needful to act in his name."

So saying, Tressilian left the room.

"He is too hot," said the curate; "and I pray to God that He may grant
him the patience to deal with Varney as is fitting."

"Patience and Varney," said Mumblazen, "is worse heraldry than metal
upon metal. He is more false than a siren, more rapacious than a
griffin, more poisonous than a wyvern, and more cruel than a lion
rampant."

"Yet I doubt much," said the curate, "whether we can with propriety ask
from Sir Hugh Robsart, being in his present condition, any deed deputing
his paternal right in Mistress Amy to whomsoever--"

"Your reverence need not doubt that," said Will Badger, who entered as
he spoke, "for I will lay my life he is another man when he wakes than
he has been these thirty days past."

"Ay, Will," said the curate, "hast thou then so much confidence in
Doctor Diddleum's draught?"

"Not a whit," said Will, "because master ne'er tasted a drop on't,
seeing it was emptied out by the housemaid. But here's a gentleman, who
came attending on Master Tressilian, has given Sir Hugh a draught that
is worth twenty of yon un. I have spoken cunningly with him, and a
better farrier or one who hath a more just notion of horse and dog
ailment I have never seen; and such a one would never be unjust to a
Christian man."

"A farrier! you saucy groom--and by whose authority, pray?" said the
curate, rising in surprise and indignation; "or who will be warrant for
this new physician?"

"For authority, an it like your reverence, he had mine; and for warrant,
I trust I have not been five-and-twenty years in this house without
having right to warrant the giving of a draught to beast or body--I who
can gie a drench, and a ball, and bleed, or blister, if need, to my very
self."

The counsellors of the house of Robsart thought it meet to carry this
information instantly to Tressilian, who as speedily summoned before
him Wayland Smith, and demanded of him (in private, however) by what
authority he had ventured to administer any medicine to Sir Hugh
Robsart?

"Why," replied the artist, "your worship cannot but remember that I told
you I had made more progress into my master's--I mean the learned Doctor
Doboobie's--mystery than he was willing to own; and indeed half of his
quarrel and malice against me was that, besides that I got something too
deep into his secrets, several discerning persons, and particularly a
buxom young widow of Abingdon, preferred my prescriptions to his."

"None of thy buffoonery, sir," said Tressilian sternly. "If thou hast
trifled with us--much more, if thou hast done aught that may prejudice
Sir Hugh Robsart's health, thou shalt find thy grave at the bottom of a
tin-mine."

"I know too little of the great ARCANUM to convert the ore to
gold," said Wayland firmly. "But truce to your apprehensions, Master
Tressilian. I understood the good knight's case from what Master William
Badger told me; and I hope I am able enough to administer a poor dose
of mandragora, which, with the sleep that must needs follow, is all that
Sir Hugh Robsart requires to settle his distraught brains."

"I trust thou dealest fairly with me, Wayland?" said Tressilian.

"Most fairly and honestly, as the event shall show," replied the artist.
"What would it avail me to harm the poor old man for whom you are
interested?--you, to whom I owe it that Gaffer Pinniewinks is not even
now rending my flesh and sinews with his accursed pincers, and probing
every mole in my body with his sharpened awl (a murrain on the hands
which forged it!) in order to find out the witch's mark?--I trust to
yoke myself as a humble follower to your worship's train, and I only
wish to have my faith judged of by the result of the good knight's
slumbers."

Wayland Smith was right in his prognostication. The sedative draught
which his skill had prepared, and Will Badger's confidence had
administered, was attended with the most beneficial effects. The
patient's sleep was long and healthful, and the poor old knight awoke,
humbled indeed in thought and weak in frame, yet a much better judge of
whatever was subjected to his intellect than he had been for some time
past. He resisted for a while the proposal made by his friends that
Tressilian should undertake a journey to court, to attempt the recovery
of his daughter, and the redress of her wrongs, in so far as they might
yet be repaired. "Let her go," he said; "she is but a hawk that goes
down the wind; I would not bestow even a whistle to reclaim her." But
though he for some time maintained this argument, he was at length
convinced it was his duty to take the part to which natural affection
inclined him, and consent that such efforts as could yet be made
should be used by Tressilian in behalf of his daughter. He subscribed,
therefore, a warrant of attorney, such as the curate's skill enabled him
to draw up; for in those simple days the clergy were often the advisers
of their flock in law as well as in gospel.

All matters were prepared for Tressilian's second departure, within
twenty-four hours after he had returned to Lidcote Hall; but one
material circumstance had been forgotten, which was first called to the
remembrance of Tressilian by Master Mumblazen. "You are going to
court, Master Tressilian," said he; "you will please remember that your
blazonry must be ARGENT and OR--no other tinctures will pass current."
The remark was equally just and embarrassing. To prosecute a suit at
court, ready money was as indispensable even in the golden days of
Elizabeth as at any succeeding period; and it was a commodity little at
the command of the inhabitants of Lidcote Hall. Tressilian was himself
poor; the revenues of good Sir Hugh Robsart were consumed, and even
anticipated, in his hospitable mode of living; and it was finally
necessary that the herald who started the doubt should himself solve it.
Master Michael Mumblazen did so by producing a bag of money, containing
nearly three hundred pounds in gold and silver of various coinage, the
savings of twenty years, which he now, without speaking a syllable upon
the subject, dedicated to the service of the patron whose shelter
and protection had given him the means of making this little hoard.
Tressilian accepted it without affecting a moment's hesitation, and a
mutual grasp of the hand was all that passed betwixt them, to express
the pleasure which the one felt in dedicating his all to such a purpose,
and that which the other received from finding so material an obstacle
to the success of his journey so suddenly removed, and in a manner so
unexpected.

While Tressilian was making preparations for his departure early
the ensuing morning, Wayland Smith desired to speak with him, and,
expressing his hope that he had been pleased with the operation of his
medicine in behalf of Sir Hugh Robsart, added his desire to accompany
him to court. This was indeed what Tressilian himself had several times
thought of; for the shrewdness, alertness of understanding, and variety
of resource which this fellow had exhibited during the time they had
travelled together, had made him sensible that his assistance might be
of importance. But then Wayland was in danger from the grasp of law; and
of this Tressilian reminded him, mentioning something, at the same time,
of the pincers of Pinniewinks and the warrant of Master Justice Blindas.
Wayland Smith laughed both to scorn.

"See you, sir!" said he, "I have changed my garb from that of a farrier
to a serving-man; but were it still as it was, look at my moustaches.
They now hang down; I will but turn them up, and dye them with a
tincture that I know of, and the devil would scarce know me again."

He accompanied these words with the appropriate action, and in less
than a minute, by setting up, his moustaches and his hair, he seemed
a different person from him that had but now entered the room. Still,
however, Tressilian hesitated to accept his services, and the artist
became proportionably urgent.

"I owe you life and limb," he said, "and I would fain pay a part of the
debt, especially as I know from Will Badger on what dangerous service
your worship is bound. I do not, indeed, pretend to be what is called
a man of mettle, one of those ruffling tear-cats who maintain their
master's quarrel with sword and buckler. Nay, I am even one of those who
hold the end of a feast better than the beginning of a fray. But I know
that I can serve your worship better, in such quest as yours, than any
of these sword-and-dagger men, and that my head will be worth an hundred
of their hands."

Tressilian still hesitated. He knew not much of this strange fellow, and
was doubtful how far he could repose in him the confidence necessary
to render him a useful attendant upon the present emergency. Ere he
had come to a determination, the trampling of a horse was heard in the
courtyard, and Master Mumblazen and Will Badger both entered hastily
into Tressilian's chamber, speaking almost at the same moment.

"Here is a serving-man on the bonniest grey tit I ever see'd in my
life," said Will Badger, who got the start--"having on his arm a silver
cognizance, being a fire-drake holding in his mouth a brickbat, under
a coronet of an Earl's degree," said Master Mumblazen, "and bearing a
letter sealed of the same."

Tressilian took the letter, which was addressed "To the worshipful
Master Edmund Tressilian, our loving kinsman--These--ride, ride,
ride--for thy life, for thy life, for thy life." He then opened it, and
found the following contents:--

"MASTER TRESSILIAN, OUR GOOD FRIEND AND COUSIN,

"We are at present so ill at ease, and otherwise so unhappily
circumstanced, that we are desirous to have around us those of
our friends on whose loving-kindness we can most especially repose
confidence; amongst whom we hold our good Master Tressilian one of the
foremost and nearest, both in good will and good ability. We therefore
pray you, with your most convenient speed, to repair to our poor
lodging, at Sayes Court, near Deptford, where we will treat further with
you of matters which we deem it not fit to commit unto writing. And so
we bid you heartily farewell, being your loving kinsman to command,

"RATCLIFFE, EARL OF SUSSEX."

"Send up the messenger instantly, Will Badger," said Tressilian; and
as the man entered the room, he exclaimed, "Ah, Stevens, is it you? how
does my good lord?"

"Ill, Master Tressilian," was the messenger's reply, "and having
therefore the more need of good friends around him."

"But what is my lord's malady?" said Tressilian anxiously; "I heard
nothing of his being ill."

"I know not, sir," replied the man; "he is very ill at ease. The
leeches are at a stand, and many of his household suspect foul
practice-witchcraft, or worse."

"What are the symptoms?" said Wayland Smith, stepping forward hastily.

"Anan?" said the messenger, not comprehending his meaning.

"What does he ail?" said Wayland; "where lies his disease?"

The man looked at Tressilian, as if to know whether he should
answer these inquiries from a stranger, and receiving a sign in the
affirmative, he hastily enumerated gradual loss of strength, nocturnal
perspiration, and loss of appetite, faintness, etc.

"Joined," said Wayland, "to a gnawing pain in the stomach, and a low
fever?"

"Even so," said the messenger, somewhat surprised.

"I know how the disease is caused," said the artist, "and I know the
cause. Your master has eaten of the manna of Saint Nicholas. I know
the cure too--my master shall not say I studied in his laboratory for
nothing."

"How mean you?" said Tressilian, frowning; "we speak of one of the first
nobles of England. Bethink you, this is no subject for buffoonery."

"God forbid!" said Wayland Smith. "I say that I know this disease, and
can cure him. Remember what I did for Sir Hugh Robsart."

"We will set forth instantly," said Tressilian. "God calls us."

Accordingly, hastily mentioning this new motive for his instant
departure, though without alluding to either the suspicions of Stevens,
or the assurances of Wayland Smith, he took the kindest leave of Sir
Hugh and the family at Lidcote Hall, who accompanied him with prayers
and blessings, and, attended by Wayland and the Earl of Sussex's
domestic, travelled with the utmost speed towards London.



CHAPTER XIII.

     Ay, I know you have arsenic,
     Vitriol, sal-tartre, argaile, alkaly,
     Cinoper:  I know all.--This fellow, Captain,
     Will come in time to be a great distiller,
     And give a say (I will not say directly,
     But very near) at the philosopher's stone.   THE ALCHEMIST.

Tressilian and his attendants pressed their route with all dispatch.
He had asked the smith, indeed, when their departure was resolved on,
whether he would not rather choose to avoid Berkshire, in which he had
played a part so conspicuous? But Wayland returned a confident answer.
He had employed the short interval they passed at Lidcote Hall in
transforming himself in a wonderful manner. His wild and overgrown
thicket of beard was now restrained to two small moustaches on the
upper lip, turned up in a military fashion. A tailor from the village
of Lidcote (well paid) had exerted his skill, under his customer's
directions, so as completely to alter Wayland's outward man, and take
off from his appearance almost twenty years of age. Formerly, besmeared
with soot and charcoal, overgrown with hair, and bent double with the
nature of his labour, disfigured too by his odd and fantastic dress,
he seemed a man of fifty years old. But now, in a handsome suit of
Tressilian's livery, with a sword by his side and a buckler on his
shoulder, he looked like a gay ruffling serving-man, whose age might
be betwixt thirty and thirty-five, the very prime of human life.
His loutish, savage-looking demeanour seemed equally changed, into a
forward, sharp, and impudent alertness of look and action.

When challenged by Tressilian, who desired to know the cause of a
metamorphosis so singular and so absolute, Wayland only answered by
singing a stave from a comedy, which was then new, and was supposed,
among the more favourable judges, to augur some genius on the part of
the author. We are happy to preserve the couplet, which ran exactly
thus,--

     "Ban, ban, ca Caliban--
     Get a new master--Be a new man."

Although Tressilian did not recollect the verses, yet they reminded
him that Wayland had once been a stage player, a circumstance which,
of itself, accounted indifferently well for the readiness with which
he could assume so total a change of personal appearance. The artist
himself was so confident of his disguise being completely changed, or
of his having completely changed his disguise, which may be the more
correct mode of speaking, that he regretted they were not to pass near
his old place of retreat.

"I could venture," he said, "in my present dress, and with your
worship's backing, to face Master Justice Blindas, even on a day of
Quarter Sessions; and I would like to know what is become of Hobgoblin,
who is like to play the devil in the world, if he can once slip the
string, and leave his granny and his dominie.--Ay, and the scathed
vault!" he said; "I would willingly have seen what havoc the explosion
of so much gunpowder has made among Doctor Demetrius Doboobie's retorts
and phials. I warrant me, my fame haunts the Vale of the Whitehorse long
after my body is rotten; and that many a lout ties up his horse, lays
down his silver groat, and pipes like a sailor whistling in a calm for
Wayland Smith to come and shoe his tit for him. But the horse will catch
the founders ere the smith answers the call."

In this particular, indeed, Wayland proved a true prophet; and so easily
do fables rise, that an obscure tradition of his extraordinary practice
in farriery prevails in the Vale of Whitehorse even unto this day; and
neither the tradition of Alfred's Victory, nor of the celebrated Pusey
Horn, are better preserved in Berkshire than the wild legend of Wayland
Smith. [See Note 2, Legend of Wayland Smith.]

The haste of the travellers admitted their making no stay upon their
journey, save what the refreshment of the horses required; and as many
of the places through which they passed were under the influence of the
Earl of Leicester, or persons immediately dependent on him, they thought
it prudent to disguise their names and the purpose of their journey.
On such occasions the agency of Wayland Smith (by which name we shall
continue to distinguish the artist, though his real name was Lancelot
Wayland) was extremely serviceable. He seemed, indeed, to have a
pleasure in displaying the alertness with which he could baffle
investigation, and amuse himself by putting the curiosity of tapsters
and inn-keepers on a false scent. During the course of their brief
journey, three different and inconsistent reports were circulated by him
on their account--namely, first, that Tressilian was the Lord Deputy of
Ireland, come over in disguise to take the Queen's pleasure concerning
the great rebel Rory Oge MacCarthy MacMahon; secondly, that the said
Tressilian was an agent of Monsieur, coming to urge his suit to the
hand of Elizabeth; thirdly, that he was the Duke of Medina, come over,
incognito, to adjust the quarrel betwixt Philip and that princess.

Tressilian was angry, and expostulated with the artist on the various
inconveniences, and, in particular, the unnecessary degree of attention
to which they were subjected by the figments he thus circulated; but
he was pacified (for who could be proof against such an argument?) by
Wayland's assuring him that a general importance was attached to his own
(Tressilian's) striking presence, which rendered it necessary to give an
extraordinary reason for the rapidity and secrecy of his journey.

At length they approached the metropolis, where, owing to the more
general recourse of strangers, their appearance excited neither
observation nor inquiry, and finally they entered London itself.

It was Tressilian's purpose to go down directly to Deptford, where Lord
Sussex resided, in order to be near the court, then held at Greenwich,
the favourite residence of Elizabeth, and honoured as her birthplace.
Still a brief halt in London was necessary; and it was somewhat
prolonged by the earnest entreaties of Wayland Smith, who desired
permission to take a walk through the city.

"Take thy sword and buckler, and follow me, then," said Tressilian; "I
am about to walk myself, and we will go in company."

This he said, because he was not altogether so secure of the fidelity
of his new retainer as to lose sight of him at this interesting moment,
when rival factions at the court of Elizabeth were running so high.
Wayland Smith willingly acquiesced in the precaution, of which he
probably conjectured the motive, but only stipulated that his master
should enter the shops of such chemists or apothecaries as he should
point out, in walking through Fleet Street, and permit him to make some
necessary purchases. Tressilian agreed, and obeying the signal of his
attendant, walked successively into more than four or five shops, where
he observed that Wayland purchased in each only one single drug, in
various quantities. The medicines which he first asked for were readily
furnished, each in succession, but those which he afterwards required
were less easily supplied; and Tressilian observed that Wayland more
than once, to the surprise of the shopkeeper, returned the gum or herb
that was offered to him, and compelled him to exchange it for the right
sort, or else went on to seek it elsewhere. But one ingredient, in
particular, seemed almost impossible to be found. Some chemists plainly
admitted they had never seen it; others denied that such a drug existed,
excepting in the imagination of crazy alchemists; and most of them
attempted to satisfy their customer, by producing some substitute,
which, when rejected by Wayland, as not being what he had asked
for, they maintained possessed, in a superior degree, the self-same
qualities. In general they all displayed some curiosity concerning the
purpose for which he wanted it. One old, meagre chemist, to whom
the artist put the usual question, in terms which Tressilian neither
understood nor could recollect, answered frankly, there was none of that
drug in London, unless Yoglan the Jew chanced to have some of it upon
hand.

"I thought as much," said Wayland. And as soon as they left the shop,
he said to Tressilian, "I crave your pardon, sir, but no artist can work
without his tools. I must needs go to this Yoglan's; and I promise you,
that if this detains you longer than your leisure seems to permit, you
shall, nevertheless, be well repaid by the use I will make of this rare
drug. Permit me," he added, "to walk before you, for we are now to quit
the broad street and we will make double speed if I lead the way."

Tressilian acquiesced, and, following the smith down a lane which turned
to the left hand towards the river, he found that his guide walked on
with great speed, and apparently perfect knowledge of the town, through
a labyrinth of by-streets, courts, and blind alleys, until at length
Wayland paused in the midst of a very narrow lane, the termination
of which showed a peep of the Thames looking misty and muddy, which
background was crossed saltierwise, as Mr. Mumblazen might have said, by
the masts of two lighters that lay waiting for the tide. The shop under
which he halted had not, as in modern days, a glazed window, but a
paltry canvas screen surrounded such a stall as a cobbler now occupies,
having the front open, much in the manner of a fishmonger's booth of the
present day. A little old smock-faced man, the very reverse of a Jew in
complexion, for he was very soft-haired as well as beardless, appeared,
and with many courtesies asked Wayland what he pleased to want. He had
no sooner named the drug, than the Jew started and looked surprised.
"And vat might your vorship vant vith that drug, which is not named,
mein God, in forty years as I have been chemist here?"

"These questions it is no part of my commission to answer," said
Wayland; "I only wish to know if you have what I want, and having it,
are willing to sell it?"

"Ay, mein God, for having it, that I have, and for selling it, I am a
chemist, and sell every drug." So saying, he exhibited a powder, and
then continued, "But it will cost much moneys. Vat I ave cost its weight
in gold--ay, gold well-refined--I vill say six times. It comes from
Mount Sinai, where we had our blessed Law given forth, and the plant
blossoms but once in one hundred year."

"I do not know how often it is gathered on Mount Sinai," said Wayland,
after looking at the drug offered him with great disdain, "but I will
wager my sword and buckler against your gaberdine, that this trash you
offer me, instead of what I asked for, may be had for gathering any day
of the week in the castle ditch of Aleppo."

"You are a rude man," said the Jew; "and, besides, I ave no better than
that--or if I ave, I will not sell it without order of a physician, or
without you tell me vat you make of it."

The artist made brief answer in a language of which Tressilian could not
understand a word, and which seemed to strike the Jew with the
utmost astonishment. He stared upon Wayland like one who has suddenly
recognized some mighty hero or dreaded potentate, in the person of an
unknown and unmarked stranger. "Holy Elias!" he exclaimed, when he had
recovered the first stunning effects of his surprise; and then passing
from his former suspicious and surly manner to the very extremity of
obsequiousness, he cringed low to the artist, and besought him to enter
his poor house, to bless his miserable threshold by crossing it.

"Vill you not taste a cup vith the poor Jew, Zacharias Yoglan?--Vill you
Tokay ave?--vill you Lachrymae taste?--vill you--"

"You offend in your proffers," said Wayland; "minister to me in what I
require of you, and forbear further discourse."

The rebuked Israelite took his bunch of keys, and opening with
circumspection a cabinet which seemed more strongly secured than the
other cases of drugs and medicines amongst which it stood, he drew out a
little secret drawer, having a glass lid, and containing a small portion
of a black powder. This he offered to Wayland, his manner conveying
the deepest devotion towards him, though an avaricious and jealous
expression, which seemed to grudge every grain of what his customer was
about to possess himself, disputed ground in his countenance with the
obsequious deference which he desired it should exhibit.

"Have you scales?" said Wayland.

The Jew pointed to those which lay ready for common use in the shop,
but he did so with a puzzled expression of doubt and fear, which did not
escape the artist.

"They must be other than these," said Wayland sternly. "Know you not
that holy things lose their virtue if weighed in an unjust balance?"

The Jew hung his head, took from a steel-plated casket a pair of scales
beautifully mounted, and said, as he adjusted them for the artist's
use, "With these I do mine own experiment--one hair of the high-priest's
beard would turn them."

"It suffices," said the artist, and weighed out two drachms for himself
of the black powder, which he very carefully folded up, and put into his
pouch with the other drugs. He then demanded the price of the Jew, who
answered, shaking his head and bowing,--

"No price--no, nothing at all from such as you. But you will see the
poor Jew again? you will look into his laboratory, where, God help him,
he hath dried himself to the substance of the withered gourd of Jonah,
the holy prophet. You will ave pity on him, and show him one little step
on the great road?"

"Hush!" said Wayland, laying his finger mysteriously on his mouth; "it
may be we shall meet again. Thou hast already the SCHAHMAJM, as thine
own Rabbis call it--the general creation; watch, therefore, and pray,
for thou must attain the knowledge of Alchahest Elixir Samech ere I
may commune further with thee." Then returning with a slight nod the
reverential congees of the Jew, he walked gravely up the lane, followed
by his master, whose first observation on the scene he had just
witnessed was, that Wayland ought to have paid the man for his drug,
whatever it was.

"I pay him?" said the artist. "May the foul fiend pay me if I do! Had
it not been that I thought it might displease your worship, I would have
had an ounce or two of gold out of him, in exchange of the same just
weight of brick dust."

"I advise you to practise no such knavery while waiting upon me," said
Tressilian.

"Did I not say," answered the artist, "that for that reason alone I
forbore him for the present?--Knavery, call you it? Why, yonder wretched
skeleton hath wealth sufficient to pave the whole lane he lives in with
dollars, and scarce miss them out of his own iron chest; yet he goes mad
after the philosopher's stone. And besides, he would have cheated a poor
serving-man, as he thought me at first, with trash that was not worth
a penny. Match for match, quoth the devil to the collier; if his false
medicine was worth my good crowns, my true brick dust is as well worth
his good gold."

"It may be so, for aught I know," said Tressilian, "in dealing amongst
Jews and apothecaries; but understand that to have such tricks of
legerdemain practised by one attending on me diminishes my honour, and
that I will not permit them. I trust thou hast made up thy purchases?"

"I have, sir," replied Wayland; "and with these drugs will I, this very
day, compound the true orvietan, that noble medicine which is so seldom
found genuine and effective within these realms of Europe, for want
of that most rare and precious drug which I got but now from Yoglan."
[Orvietan, or Venice treacle, as it was sometimes called, was understood
to be a sovereign remedy against poison; and the reader must be
contented, for the time he peruses these pages, to hold the same
opinion, which was once universally received by the learned as well as
the vulgar.]

"But why not have made all your purchases at one shop?" said his master;
"we have lost nearly an hour in running from one pounder of simples to
another."

"Content you, sir," said Wayland. "No man shall learn my secret; and
it would not be mine long, were I to buy all my materials from one
chemist."

They now returned to their inn (the famous Bell-Savage); and while the
Lord Sussex's servant prepared the horses for their journey, Wayland,
obtaining from the cook the service of a mortar, shut himself up in
a private chamber, where he mixed, pounded, and amalgamated the drugs
which he had bought, each in its due proportion, with a readiness
and address that plainly showed him well practised in all the manual
operations of pharmacy.

By the time Wayland's electuary was prepared the horses were ready, and
a short hour's riding brought them to the present habitation of Lord
Sussex, an ancient house, called Sayes Court, near Deptford, which
had long pertained to a family of that name, but had for upwards of a
century been possessed by the ancient and honourable family of Evelyn.
The present representative of that ancient house took a deep interest
in the Earl of Sussex, and had willingly accommodated both him and his
numerous retinue in his hospitable mansion. Sayes Court was afterwards
the residence of the celebrated Mr. Evelyn, whose "Silva" is still the
manual of British planters; and whose life, manners, and principles, as
illustrated in his Memoirs, ought equally to be the manual of English
gentlemen.



CHAPTER XIV.

     This is rare news thou tell'st me, my good fellow;
     There are two bulls fierce battling on the green
     For one fair heifer--if the one goes down,
     The dale will be more peaceful, and the herd,
     Which have small interest in their brulziement,
     May pasture there in peace.     --OLD PLAY.

Sayes Court was watched like a beleaguered fort; and so high rose the
suspicions of the time, that Tressilian and his attendants were stopped
and questioned repeatedly by sentinels, both on foot and horseback,
as they approached the abode of the sick Earl. In truth, the high rank
which Sussex held in Queen Elizabeth's favour, and his known and avowed
rivalry of the Earl of Leicester, caused the utmost importance to be
attached to his welfare; for, at the period we treat of, all men doubted
whether he or the Earl of Leicester might ultimately have the higher
rank in her regard.

Elizabeth, like many of her sex, was fond of governing by factions, so
as to balance two opposing interests, and reserve in her own hand the
power of making either predominate, as the interest of the state, or
perhaps as her own female caprice (for to that foible even she was not
superior), might finally determine. To finesse--to hold the cards--to
oppose one interest to another--to bridle him who thought himself
highest in her esteem, by the fears he must entertain of another equally
trusted, if not equally beloved, were arts which she used throughout
her reign, and which enabled her, though frequently giving way to the
weakness of favouritism, to prevent most of its evil effects on her
kingdom and government.

The two nobles who at present stood as rivals in her favour possessed
very different pretensions to share it; yet it might be in general said
that the Earl of Sussex had been most serviceable to the Queen, while
Leicester was most dear to the woman. Sussex was, according to the
phrase of the times, a martialist--had done good service in Ireland and
in Scotland, and especially in the great northern rebellion, in 1569,
which was quelled, in a great measure, by his military talents. He was,
therefore, naturally surrounded and looked up to by those who wished to
make arms their road to distinction. The Earl of Sussex, moreover, was
of more ancient and honourable descent than his rival, uniting in
his person the representation of the Fitz-Walters, as well as of
the Ratcliffes; while the scutcheon of Leicester was stained by the
degradation of his grandfather, the oppressive minister of Henry VII.,
and scarce improved by that of his father, the unhappy Dudley, Duke of
Northumberland, executed on Tower Hill, August 22, 1553. But in person,
features, and address, weapons so formidable in the court of a
female sovereign, Leicester had advantages more than sufficient to
counterbalance the military services, high blood, and frank bearing of
the Earl of Sussex; and he bore, in the eye of the court and kingdom,
the higher share in Elizabeth's favour, though (for such was her uniform
policy) by no means so decidedly expressed as to warrant him against the
final preponderance of his rival's pretensions. The illness of Sussex
therefore happened so opportunely for Leicester, as to give rise to
strange surmises among the public; while the followers of the one Earl
were filled with the deepest apprehensions, and those of the other with
the highest hopes of its probable issue. Meanwhile--for in that old time
men never forgot the probability that the matter might be determined
by length of sword--the retainers of each noble flocked around their
patron, appeared well armed in the vicinity of the court itself, and
disturbed the ear of the sovereign by their frequent and alarming
debates, held even within the precincts of her palace. This preliminary
statement is necessary, to render what follows intelligible to the
reader. [See Note 3. Leicester and Sussex.]

On Tressilian's arrival at Sayes Court, he found the place filled with
the retainers of the Earl of Sussex, and of the gentlemen who came to
attend their patron in his illness. Arms were in every hand, and a deep
gloom on every countenance, as if they had apprehended an immediate
and violent assault from the opposite faction. In the hall, however,
to which Tressilian was ushered by one of the Earl's attendants,
while another went to inform Sussex of his arrival, he found only two
gentlemen in waiting. There was a remarkable contrast in their dress,
appearance, and manners. The attire of the elder gentleman, a person
as it seemed of quality and in the prime of life, was very plain and
soldierlike, his stature low, his limbs stout, his bearing ungraceful,
and his features of that kind which express sound common sense, without
a grain of vivacity or imagination. The younger, who seemed about
twenty, or upwards, was clad in the gayest habit used by persons of
quality at the period, wearing a crimson velvet cloak richly ornamented
with lace and embroidery, with a bonnet of the same, encircled with a
gold chain turned three times round it, and secured by a medal. His hair
was adjusted very nearly like that of some fine gentlemen of our own
time--that is, it was combed upwards, and made to stand as it were on
end; and in his ears he wore a pair of silver earrings, having each a
pearl of considerable size. The countenance of this youth, besides being
regularly handsome and accompanied by a fine person, was animated and
striking in a degree that seemed to speak at once the firmness of
a decided and the fire of an enterprising character, the power of
reflection, and the promptitude of determination.

Both these gentlemen reclined nearly in the same posture on benches
near each other; but each seeming engaged in his own meditations, looked
straight upon the wall which was opposite to them, without speaking to
his companion. The looks of the elder were of that sort which convinced
the beholder that, in looking on the wall, he saw no more than the side
of an old hall hung around with cloaks, antlers, bucklers, old pieces
of armour, partisans, and the similar articles which were usually the
furniture of such a place. The look of the younger gallant had in it
something imaginative; he was sunk in reverie, and it seemed as if the
empty space of air betwixt him and the wall were the stage of a theatre
on which his fancy was mustering his own DRAMATIS PERSONAE, and treating
him with sights far different from those which his awakened and earthly
vision could have offered.

At the entrance of Tressilian both started from their musing, and
made him welcome--the younger, in particular, with great appearance of
animation and cordiality.

"Thou art welcome, Tressilian," said the youth. "Thy philosophy stole
thee from us when this household had objects of ambition to offer; it
is an honest philosophy, since it returns thee to us when there are only
dangers to be shared."

"Is my lord, then, so greatly indisposed?" said Tressilian.

"We fear the very worst," answered the elder gentleman, "and by the
worst practice."

"Fie," replied Tressilian, "my Lord of Leicester is honourable."

"What doth he with such attendants, then, as he hath about him?" said
the younger gallant. "The man who raises the devil may be honest, but he
is answerable for the mischief which the fiend does, for all that."

"And is this all of you, my mates," inquired Tressilian, "that are about
my lord in his utmost straits?"

"No, no," replied the elder gentleman, "there are Tracy, Markham, and
several more; but we keep watch here by two at once, and some are weary
and are sleeping in the gallery above."

"And some," said the young man, "are gone down to the Dock yonder at
Deptford, to look out such a hull; as they may purchase by clubbing
their broken fortunes; and as soon as all is over, we will lay our noble
lord in a noble green grave, have a blow at those who have hurried him
thither, if opportunity suits, and then sail for the Indies with heavy
hearts and light purses."

"It may be," said Tressilian, "that I will embrace the same purpose, so
soon as I have settled some business at court."

"Thou business at court!" they both exclaimed at once, "and thou make
the Indian voyage!"

"Why, Tressilian," said the younger man, "art thou not wedded, and
beyond these flaws of fortune, that drive folks out to sea when their
bark bears fairest for the haven?--What has become of the lovely
Indamira that was to match my Amoret for truth and beauty?"

"Speak not of her!" said Tressilian, averting his face.

"Ay, stands it so with you?" said the youth, taking his hand very
affectionately; "then, fear not I will again touch the green wound.
But it is strange as well as sad news. Are none of our fair and merry
fellowship to escape shipwreck of fortune and happiness in this sudden
tempest? I had hoped thou wert in harbour, at least, my dear Edmund. But
truly says another dear friend of thy name,

     'What man that sees the ever whirling wheel
     Of Chance, the which all mortal things doth sway,
     But that thereby doth find and plainly feel,
     How Mutability in them doth play
     Her cruel sports to many men's decay.'"

The elder gentleman had risen from his bench, and was pacing the
hall with some impatience, while the youth, with much earnestness
and feeling, recited these lines. When he had done, the other wrapped
himself in his cloak, and again stretched himself down, saying, "I
marvel, Tressilian, you will feed the lad in this silly humour. If there
were ought to draw a judgment upon a virtuous and honourable household
like my lord's, renounce me if I think not it were this piping,
whining, childish trick of poetry, that came among us with Master Walter
Wittypate here and his comrades, twisting into all manner of uncouth and
incomprehensible forms of speech, the honest plain English phrase which
God gave us to express our meaning withal."

"Blount believes," said his comrade, laughing, "the devil woo'd Eve
in rhyme, and that the mystic meaning of the Tree of Knowledge refers
solely to the art of clashing rhymes and meting out hexameters." [See
Note 4. Sir Walter Raleigh.]

At this moment the Earl's chamberlain entered, and informed Tressilian
that his lord required to speak with him.

He found Lord Sussex dressed, but unbraced, and lying on his couch, and
was shocked at the alteration disease had made in his person. The Earl
received him with the most friendly cordiality, and inquired into the
state of his courtship. Tressilian evaded his inquiries for a moment,
and turning his discourse on the Earl's own health, he discovered, to
his surprise, that the symptoms of his disorder corresponded minutely
with those which Wayland had predicated concerning it. He hesitated not,
therefore, to communicate to Sussex the whole history of his attendant,
and the pretensions he set up to cure the disorder under which he
laboured. The Earl listened with incredulous attention until the name
of Demetrius was mentioned, and then suddenly called to his secretary to
bring him a certain casket which contained papers of importance. "Take
out from thence," he said, "the declaration of the rascal cook whom we
had under examination, and look heedfully if the name of Demetrius be
not there mentioned."

The secretary turned to the passage at once, and read, "And said
declarant, being examined, saith, That he remembers having made the
sauce to the said sturgeon-fish, after eating of which the said noble
Lord was taken ill; and he put the usual ingredients and condiments
therein, namely--"

"Pass over his trash," said the Earl, "and see whether he had not been
supplied with his materials by a herbalist called Demetrius."

"It is even so," answered the secretary. "And he adds, he has not since
seen the said Demetrius."

"This accords with thy fellow's story, Tressilian," said the Earl; "call
him hither."

On being summoned to the Earl's presence, Wayland Smith told his former
tale with firmness and consistency.

"It may be," said the Earl, "thou art sent by those who have begun this
work, to end it for them; but bethink, if I miscarry under thy medicine,
it may go hard with thee."

"That were severe measure," said Wayland, "since the issue of medicine,
and the end of life, are in God's disposal. But I will stand the risk. I
have not lived so long under ground to be afraid of a grave."

"Nay, if thou be'st so confident," said the Earl of Sussex, "I will take
the risk too, for the learned can do nothing for me. Tell me how this
medicine is to be taken."

"That will I do presently," said Wayland; "but allow me to condition
that, since I incur all the risk of this treatment, no other physician
shall be permitted to interfere with it."

"That is but fair," replied the Earl; "and now prepare your drug."

While Wayland obeyed the Earl's commands, his servants, by the artist's
direction, undressed their master, and placed him in bed.

"I warn you," he said, "that the first operation of this medicine will
be to produce a heavy sleep, during which time the chamber must be kept
undisturbed, as the consequences may otherwise he fatal. I myself will
watch by the Earl with any of the gentlemen of his chamber."

"Let all leave the room, save Stanley and this good fellow," said the
Earl.

"And saving me also," said Tressilian. "I too am deeply interested in
the effects of this potion."

"Be it so, good friend," said the Earl. "And now for our experiment; but
first call my secretary and chamberlain."

"Bear witness," he continued, when these officers arrived--"bear witness
for me, gentlemen, that our honourable friend Tressilian is in no way
responsible for the effects which this medicine may produce upon me, the
taking it being my own free action and choice, in regard I believe it to
be a remedy which God has furnished me by unexpected means to recover me
of my present malady. Commend me to my noble and princely Mistress;
and say that I live and die her true servant, and wish to all about her
throne the same singleness of heart and will to serve her, with more
ability to do so than hath been assigned to poor Thomas Ratcliffe."

He then folded his hands, and seemed for a second or two absorbed
in mental devotion, then took the potion in his hand, and, pausing,
regarded Wayland with a look that seemed designed to penetrate his very
soul, but which caused no anxiety or hesitation in the countenance or
manner of the artist.

"Here is nothing to be feared," said Sussex to Tressilian, and swallowed
the medicine without further hesitation.

"I am now to pray your lordship," said Wayland, "to dispose yourself
to rest as commodiously as you can; and of you, gentlemen, to remain as
still and mute as if you waited at your mother's deathbed."

The chamberlain and secretary then withdrew, giving orders that all
doors should be bolted, and all noise in the house strictly prohibited.
Several gentlemen were voluntary watchers in the hall, but none remained
in the chamber of the sick Earl, save his groom of the chamber, the
artist, and Tressilian.--Wayland Smith's predictions were speedily
accomplished, and a sleep fell upon the Earl, so deep and sound that
they who watched his bedside began to fear that, in his weakened state,
he might pass away without awakening from his lethargy. Wayland Smith
himself appeared anxious, and felt the temples of the Earl slightly,
from time to time, attending particularly to the state of his
respiration, which was full and deep, but at the same time easy and
uninterrupted.



CHAPTER XV.

     You loggerheaded and unpolish'd grooms,
     What, no attendance, no regard, no duty?
     Where is the foolish knave I sent before?
     --TAMING OF THE SHREW.

There is no period at which men look worse in the eyes of each other, or
feel more uncomfortable, than when the first dawn of daylight finds them
watchers. Even a beauty of the first order, after the vigils of a ball
are interrupted by the dawn, would do wisely to withdraw herself from
the gaze of her fondest and most partial admirers. Such was the pale,
inauspicious, and ungrateful light which began to beam upon those who
kept watch all night in the hall at Sayes Court, and which mingled its
cold, pale, blue diffusion with the red, yellow, and smoky beams of
expiring lamps and torches. The young gallant, whom we noticed in our
last chapter, had left the room for a few minutes, to learn the cause of
a knocking at the outward gate, and on his return was so struck with
the forlorn and ghastly aspects of his companions of the watch that
he exclaimed, "Pity of my heart, my masters, how like owls you look!
Methinks, when the sun rises, I shall see you flutter off with your eyes
dazzled, to stick yourselves into the next ivy-tod or ruined steeple."

"Hold thy peace, thou gibing fool," said Blount; "hold thy peace. Is
this a time for jeering, when the manhood of England is perchance dying
within a wall's breadth of thee?"

"There thou liest," replied the gallant.

"How, lie!" exclaimed Blount, starting up, "lie! and to me?"

"Why, so thou didst, thou peevish fool," answered the youth; "thou didst
lie on that bench even now, didst thou not? But art thou not a hasty
coxcomb to pick up a wry word so wrathfully? Nevertheless, loving and,
honouring my lord as truly as thou, or any one, I do say that, should
Heaven take him from us, all England's manhood dies not with him."

"Ay," replied Blount, "a good portion will survive with thee,
doubtless."

"And a good portion with thyself, Blount, and with stout Markham here,
and Tracy, and all of us. But I am he will best employ the talent Heaven
has given to us all."

"As how, I prithee?" said Blount; "tell us your mystery of multiplying."

"Why, sirs," answered the youth, "ye are like goodly land, which bears
no crop because it is not quickened by manure; but I have that rising
spirit in me which will make my poor faculties labour to keep pace with
it. My ambition will keep my brain at work, I warrant thee."

"I pray to God it does not drive thee mad," said Blount; "for my part,
if we lose our noble lord, I bid adieu to the court and to the camp
both. I have five hundred foul acres in Norfolk, and thither will I, and
change the court pantoufle for the country hobnail."

"O base transmutation!" exclaimed his antagonist; "thou hast already got
the true rustic slouch--thy shoulders stoop, as if thine hands were at
the stilts of the plough; and thou hast a kind of earthy smell about
thee, instead of being perfumed with essence, as a gallant and courtier
should. On my soul, thou hast stolen out to roll thyself on a hay mow!
Thy only excuse will be to swear by thy hilts that the farmer had a fair
daughter."

"I pray thee, Walter," said another of the company, "cease thy raillery,
which suits neither time nor place, and tell us who was at the gate just
now."