CHAPTER XI.
WINE AND SONG.
"He's in the third degree of drink; he's drowned."--_Twelfth Night._
The inn people coming forth with a light, Hal made similar arrangementsto those effected at his two previous stopping-places, with thisdifference, that he himself was to watch for two hours, and then besucceeded by Anthony. Anne could not exactly repeat her precautionstaken at Oakham, for Hal procured the only available fresh horses beforeshe applied for any; nor could she arrange that her own horses should beheld in readiness before the inn. She caused them, however, to be fedand kept in an unlocked shed, from which her page might speedily takethem out; and she was successful in bespeaking information in case ofthe enemy's departure.
Though Hal left her sight in riding back to keep watch, she now knewthat he would not flee without calling his attendants, nor could hecontinue his flight in either practicable direction--toward Nottinghamor toward Newark--without passing the inn. So she went to her room--oneof the few with which the low upper story of the house was provided--inconfident mind, stationing Francis on a bench where he might, in a stateof half slumber, watch the door of Kit and Anthony. As for the window ofthe room taken by these two, it was not far from her own, and by keepingthe latter open she counted upon hearing any exit made through theformer. She lay down, and dozed wakefully.
Hal's watch was without event. As he moved up and down the silent roadwith his horses, he continued to ask himself whether she might yet haveformed a plan of action against him; and from this question he fell toconsidering what plan might be possible. He tried to devise one for her,but could invent none that he saw himself unable to defeat.
He returned to the inn at the end of his two hours, and summoned Anthonyby a whistle previously agreed upon. Anthony came down by the stairs,and went silently on guard. Hal, who had not yet eaten, now entered theinn with a ready appetite for the supper he had previously ordered. Ashe stepped from the outer wind into the passage, he noticed that thedoor was open which led thence to the inn parlor. Just within that doorstood a figure. He glanced at it. By the light of the candles farther inthe room, he saw that it was Mistress Hazlehurst.
"Sir," she said to him, in a dry tone, which, as also her face, shetried to rob of all expression save that of ordinary, indifferentcivility, "I learn you bespoke supper to be sent to your room. I amhaving mine own served here. We have full understanding of each other'sintent. There is open warfare between us. Yet while we be fellowtravellers, each set upon the other's defeat, meseems we should as wellcomport ourselves as fellow travellers till one win the other's undoing.Though writ down in blood as bitter foes, in birth we are equal, and ourlands are neighbor. So I do offer that we sup together, as becomethpeople of civility upon the same journey, though enemies they be to thedeath."
To this proposal, so congenial with his inclinations, what could MasterMarryott do but forthwith assent, too dazzled by the prospect to torturehis brain for a likely motive on her part? With a "Right readily,mistress!" he hastened to give the necessary orders, and then enteredthe parlor, which had no occupant but Mistress Anne. The last tippler ofthe night had sought his bed.
At one side of the low room was a fire in a wide hearth. At anotherside, beneath a deep, long, horizontal window was a table, on which somedishes were already set. The floor was covered with stale rushes. Therewere no hangings on the besmoked, plastered, timbered walls. The poorcandles shed a wavering light. This was no Mermaid tavern, indeed. YetHal felt mightily, dangerously comfortable here.
He opened a casement a little, that he might hear any alarm fromAnthony, and then he sat down at the table, opposite Anne. He saw thatFrancis, who seemed of wire, and proof against fatigue and lack ofsleep, stood ready to wait upon his mistress. He saw, too, that her winewas placed on a rude kind of sideboard, to be served from thence eachtime a sip might be wanted, as in the private houses of gentlefolk. Whena tapster came, sleepy and muttering to himself, with Hal's wine, MasterMarryott ordered it put as the lady's was; and then Mistress Hazlehurstproposed, in the manner she had used before, that the inn servant bedismissed and Francis wait upon them both.
"It is but fair repayment," she added, "for the protection I receiveupon the road by the presence of your men."
Hal was nothing loath. He would not show suspicion, if he felt any, atbeing invited to be left alone with his enemy and her servant. Franciswas but a slip of a boy,--and yet, in his tirelessness, his reposefulmanner, his discreet look, the closeness of his mouth, there wassufficient of the undisclosed, of the possibly latent, to put a wise manon his guard. Hal kept a corner of his eye upon the page, therefore,while with the rest of it he studied the fine face and gracefulmotions--motions the more effective for being few--of the page'smistress.
The early part of the meal went in silence, Francis attending to thedishes and serving the wine noiselessly, with neither haste nortardiness. Hal saw in the looks of both lady and page the revivingeffects of a short sleep and of cold water. Anne ate, not as if hungry,but as if providing against possible exposure and fasting. That Francismight not have to depart unfed, she bade him partake of certain dishesas he bore them from before her. He contrived to do this, and yet to seethat Master Marryott never wanted for wine.
And, indeed, Master Marryott, warmed, comforted, made to see thingsrosily, put into mood of rare good-feeling and admiration, kept Francisbusy and busier between the sideboard and the wine-cup at Hal's hand.Finally, the page, when he should have taken the flagon back to thesideboard, set it down on the table, that he might thereafter fill thecup without even the loss of time involved in traversing therush-covered floor. Was this the boy's own happy thought, or was it inobedience to a meaning glance from his mistress? Hal did not queryhimself on this point; he had observed no meaning glance. He wasentering the seventh heaven of wine; it seemed the most natural thing inthe world that he should find the flagon constantly at his elbow. Andsuddenly this silence, so long maintained, appeared absurd,unaccountable. God-'a'-mercy! why should people sit tongue-tied in thismanner? Wherefore he spoke:
"Truly 'twas well thought on that we might use civil courtesy betweenus, enemies though you will have us! 'Tis like the exchange ofgentleness 'twixt our noblest soldiers and those of Spain, in times oftruce, or even in the breathing moments 'tween sword-thrusts. Truly,courtesy sweeteneth all transactions, even those of enmity and warfare!'Tis like this wine that giveth a soft and pleasing hue, as of its owncolor, to all one sees and hears when one has drunk of it. Taste it,madam, I pray. Your glass hath not been once refilled. Nay, an you sparethe wine so, I shall say you but half act upon your own offer!"
She drank what remained in her cup, and let Francis fill it again.
"No doubt the ladies of France drink more wine than we of England," shesaid, as if at the same time to account for his importunity and hermoderation. He perceived the allusion to Sir Valentine's long residencein France, and was put on his guard against betraying himself. He oughtto have taken more into mind that she regarded him as her brother'sslayer, and that her tone was strangely urbane for such regarding, eventhough courtesy had been agreed upon. But by this time he had too muchwine in. He had long since exhausted the contents of his own flagon, andwas now being served from hers.
"The ladies of France," he replied, "are none the better of the ladiesof England for that."
"I have heard there is a certain facility and grace in them, that welack," she answered, having noticed that he drank at the end of eachspeech he made.
"It may be," he said, "but 'tis the facility and grace of the cat, withclaws and teeth at the back of it." He had to speak of French ladiesentirely from hearsay. "For softness, united with strength and candor,for amplitude and warmth of heart, commend me to the English ladies."Euphuism was still the fashion, and people of breeding had the knack ofconversing offhand in sentences that would now seem studied.
The cup-lifting that followed this remark was accompanied by so direct alook at her that she could not but know for which partic
ular Englishlady the compliment was intended. She gave no outward sign of anger.
"The French excel us in their wine, at least," she replied, sipping fromher cup as if to demonstrate the sincerity of her words,--an action thatinstantly moved Master Hal to further and deeper potations.
"SHE GAVE NO OUTWARD SIGN OF ANGER."]
"Why, I should be an ingrate to gainsay that," said he. "Tis indeedmatter for thanks that we, sitting by night in this lone countryale-house,--'tis little better,--with the March wind howling wolf-likewithout, may imbibe, and cheer our souls with, the sunlight that hathfallen in past years upon French hillsides. But we should be churls todespise the vineyards of Spain or Italy, either! Or the Rhenish, thathath gladdened so many a heart and begot so many a song! Lovest thoumusic, madam?"
She kept a startled silence for a moment, at a loss how to receive thechange from "you" to "thou" in his style of addressing her. In truth thefamiliarity was on his part unpremeditated and innocent. But, foranother reason than that, she speedily decided to overlook it, and sheanswered, in words that gave Hal a sudden thrill, for they were those ofone of Master Shakespeare's own comedies, often played by the company:
"The man that hath no music in himself. Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils."
She paused here, as if struck with the thought that the speech might notbe known to the Catholic knight.
"'Tis Lorenzo's speech in 'The Merchant,'" said Hal, quite ecstatic."I--" he caught himself in time to avoid saying, "know the part byheart, having studied it in hope of some-day playing it," and added,instead, "saw the comedy in London when 'twas first played, and a friendsent me a book of it last year, that he bought in Paul's Churchyard.Thou'st seen the play, I ween."
"And read it," she answered, this time filling his glass herself, forFrancis had stolen from the room with a flagon in quest of more wine atthe bar.
"Know'st thou the full speech," said he, "beginning, 'How sweet themoonlight sleeps upon this bank'?" Without waiting for an answer, andbeing now in the vinous rage for reciting, he went on through the sceneto its interruption by the entrance of Portia and Nerissa. It wasnothing wonderful, in those days, that a gentleman should speak versewell; yet she viewed him with some astonishment, in which was a firstfaint touch of regret that circumstance made this man, in whom otherwiseshe might find certain admirable qualities, irrevocably her foe, tobecome inevitably her victim. This regret she instantly put from her,and set herself the more to plying him with wine.
"I'll warrant thou hast music at the end of thy tongue, and of thyfingers also," said Hal. "Would there were an instrument here! Heavenlymust be the offspring, when such hands wed string of lute, or key ofvirginal! But thy lips are here. Wilt sing? All are abed. I prithee, asong!"
"Nay, 'twere better you should sing," she answered, by way of evading acourse of importunities, and seeing that he was in ripe mood forcompliance.
"Willingly, an thou'lt engage to sing in thy turn," he replied.
She gave her promise, thinking she would not have to keep it; for when agentleman in wine becomes vocally inclined, he is apt to go on like awound-up clock till he be stopped, or till he run down into slumber.
So Hal began, with Shakespeare's "O mistress mine, where are youroaming?" as a song whose line, "That can sing both high and low," wasappropriate to their recent subject. And this led naturally to the song"It was a lover and his lass," which in turn called up Ben Jonson's songon a kiss, from the masque of "Cynthia's Revels." Then something gave aconvivial shift to Hal's thoughts, and he offered King Henry VIII.'s"Pastime with good company," from which he went to the old drinking songfrom "Gammer Gurton's Needle."
Mistress Hazlehurst, having perceived that singing hindered hisdrinking, though each lapse between songs was filled with a hastydraught, was now willing enough to keep her promise; and she made boldto remind him of it. He was quite eager to hear her, though it shouldrequire silence on his own part. She sang Shakespeare's "When icicleshang by the wall," in a low and melodious voice, of much beauty in alimited range,--a voice of the same quality as her ordinary speakingtones. Seeing that Hal, who gazed in admiration, broke his own inactionby constant applications to the flagon, which the clever Francis hadsucceeded in filling at the bar, she followed this song immediately with"Blow, blow, thou winter wind."
Hal was now ready to volunteer with "Under the greenwood tree," but shecut him short, and drove him to repeated uses of the cup, by startingJohn Heywood's song of "The green willow," which she selected as suitingher purpose by reason of its great length.
When this was at last finished, Hal, who had been regarding her steadilywith eyes that sometimes blinked for drowsiness, opened his mouth to putin practice a compliment he had for some minutes been meditating,--thatof singing "Who is Sylvia?" in such manner as should imply that MistressHazlehurst embodied all the excellences of her who "excelled each mortalthing upon the dull earth dwelling." She silenced him at the outset bytaking up Heywood's "Be merry, friends," at which, despite how much headmired her face and was thrilled by her voice, he sat back inresignation; for the old song she had this time hit upon was as nearlyendless as it was monotonous. Hal's nurse had many times droned him tosleep with it, in his infancy.
And now its somnolent effect was as great as ever. Save for her voice,in the unvarying rhythm of the countless four-line stanzas marked by therefrain. "Be merry, friends!" at the end of each, and for a frequentmoan or whine of the wind without, the utmost stillness reigned. Francishad effaced himself on a high-backed seat in a dark corner of thefireplace. The candles burned dimly for want of snuffing, and they werejust so far from Hal's arm that, in his drowsy state, it was too greatan effort to reach them. Indeed, it had now become too great an effortto draw the wine flagon toward him. His brain swam a little. He sat backlimp in his oaken settle, his head fell more and more heavily toward hisbreast. Things became vaguer and vaguer before him; the face from whoselips the soporific melody proceeded was blended more and more with theambient shadows. His eyelids closed.
She continued the song more softly, a triumphant light slowly increasingin her eyes. At last her voice was still. The supposed Sir Valentinemoved not, lifted not his head, opened not his eyes. Only his regularbreathing, the heavy breathing of vinous stupor, was heard in the room.
Mistress Hazlehurst rose without noise.
"He will not be in riding mood for ten hours to come," she said,quietly, to Francis. "An his men waken him, he'll be for calling themhard names, and off to sleep again! God-'a'-mercy, what an ocean of winehath he swallowed in three short hours! Come. Francis, we may sleep withease of mind to-night. He is stayed beyond even the will to go on. And Ithank heaven, for I am well-nigh as drowsy, and as loath to ride in thisweather, as he must be!"
It was sleepily indeed that she stepped, with as little sound as couldbe, over the crackling rushes to the door. To keep her enemy in thedrinking mood, and to dissemble her purpose, she had taken an unusualquantity of wine herself. Ladies did not drink as much in Elizabeth'soutwardly decent reign as they came to drink a few years later, underScottish Jeames, when, if Sir John Harrington lied not in 1606, those ofthe court did "abandon their sobriety" and were "seen to roll about inintoxication." And Mistress Hazlehurst was the last woman in the worldto violate the prevalent seemliness under the virgin queen. But she hadsipped enough to augment the languor induced by her recent exertions.She put a hand upon the door-post to support herself as she approachedit.
There was a wild, swift beating of horses' hoofs on the road outside; anabrupt stoppage just before the inn; a shrill whistle, and this shoutfrom Anthony Underhill:
"What, ho! Halloo, halloo!"
Hal raised his head, and looked drowsily around with blinking eyes.There was a noise overhead of a heavy tread,--that of Captain Bottle,responding to the alarm. In a trice old Kit was heard clearing thestairs at a bound, and then seen dashing through the passage and outinto the darkness. He had unbarred the outer do
or with a singlemovement.
Hal stared inquiringly at Mistress Hazlehurst. Her eyes had a glow ofconfident expectation. That was her blunder.
Her look told him all,--that she had supped with him, sung for him,incited him to drink, in order that he might be unfit for flight oraction. He sprang to his feet, clapped on his hat, threw off histipsiness with one backward jerk of the shoulders; was himself again,with clear eyes and strong, steady limbs.
"To horse, madam, if you would still ride with us!" he cried. "I havesome thirty miles or so to go to-night!"
And he strode past her, and out after Kit Bottle.
"'Tis Barnet's men, methinks, by the sound of the horses yonder," saidAnthony, composedly, pointing southward, as Hal rose into the saddle.
Hal looked back toward the open door of the inn. In a moment Anne cameout with Francis, who ran at once to the shed wherein her horses were.
In the doorway between parlor and passage she had undergone a moment ofsickening chagrin. Not only had she failed ridiculously a second time,but she must now abandon her clutch upon her enemy, or face with himthat thirty miles of night ride in biting weather! Francis looked at herfor commands. She tightened her lips again, imitated Hal's own motion ofcasting away lassitude, drew her cloak close around her, put up herhood, and hastened out to the windy night.
Hal made great stir with his horses before moving off, that the innpeople might be awakened and some of them note which road he took. Thisprecaution, used for the benefit of Roger Barnet, gave Anne time to joinHal's party.
When the pursuivant and his fellows rode up, soon afterward, on halfdead horses, that stumbled before the inn, the fugitives were wellforward on the Nottingham road. It was a bitter, black night.
"Fellow travellers still!" quoth Master Marryott, to the dark figurethat rode galloping, with flying cloak, beside him.
"And shall be till I see you caught, though I must ride sleepless till Idrop!" was the reply.