Q. Were signs made between them?
A. Not that she said, sir. She and Dick came back to the inn alone, for his Lordship stayed there beside the temple, and she knew not when he returned. When she and Dick crept back to their chambers, he would come and lie with her, so be it this time she would not have it. He did not force it upon her as at Basingstoke, she said as if he knew she had been upon great fatigue and trial, and so left her. There, sir. I have told all exact, not one matter omitted.
Q. Did she make no other explanation of what had passed? Did you not press her?
A. That she was sure now his Lordship was bent on some great wickedness, and much afraid of what further might lie ahead. As she was now proven right to be, on that day we spoke.
Q. We will come to that. She spoke of nothing else of moment, before you came to the Black Hart?
A. No, sir, not till the eve of that day we were at. When she said his Lordship again spoke apart with her in his chamber, and behaved as without reason as ever before, first to revile her for some insolence that lay in his fancy, for she was sure she had given none in the flesh; then of her being so great a whore, she was certain for hell, I know not what else. Which she said he spake in terms and language more like to one of her past Quaker ranters or an Anabaptist than a gentleman, like he would now see her punished for doing his very own command. And she said 'twas as if he was not one man, but two, when she looked back on all her dealings with him; that when she went to her bed, she wept for it, that he should be so cruel for so little seeming cause. And I asked her, What of his praise of thee at the temple? And she said, 'Tis ever so with those of rank, they be weathercocks, all turns with the wind of their fancy.
Q. Spoke the wench much in this vein - of disrespect for her betters?
A. I fear she did, sir. I will come to it.
Q. You shall. I ask this now. She did know, did she not, that something most wicked and terrible was afoot? She had known it since the night at the temple, three days before. Now why made she no attempt to escape, to seek the advice and protection of Mr Lacy, whatever else? Why went she for three whole days, as she were a lamb of a more innocent kind, to slaughter?
A. Your worship, she did say she believed that Mr Lacy and I were a part of what went on, and of no avail. That she had thought, at Wincanton and Taunton both, of running into the night, she knew not where; but found herself so desperate alone in the world, and damned beyond hope of succour, that she found not the courage.
Q. You believed this?
A. That she was frightened out of normal wits, yes, sir, I did. One is no army, as the saying goes; and least of all when womanly weak.
Q. Did his Lordship say whatever to her on the eve, at the Black Hart, of what should pass that coming day?
A. No, sir. She thought it strange I was gone, when they set off, and she asked Mr Lacy, but he said only, I was rid ahead. And so stranger still, when it came to the parting with Mr Lacy at the gibbet, of which she had no warning; and began greatly to apprehend, to find herself alone with her tormentors, for his Lordship rode ahead, and would not speak. Until they came to the ford by the cwm, where I watched them; and there at last she ventured to speak, and his Lordship said, We are come to where my waters spring; and that she too was to taste of them.
Q. These are the waters of which he told her in London, that were reputed good for his case?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. Had you heard speak of them on your journey to Devon? Had Mr Lacy spoke of them?
A. No, sir. Not one word.
Q. Nor nothing said of them in that inn?
A. Neither, sir. You will hear. Hiss Lordship did speak in black jest. There be no waters. Q. Proceed.
A. So, sir, she dared not ask more, for his Lordship and Dick seemed willed to one purpose, and she like mere baggage they carried with them to it, as they went in the cwm to where I found them, with Dick gone off. Where at the first, before I came up with them, she said his Lordship had had Dick unstrap the box and set it on the ground, and then opened it, and there laid on top was the May dress, new smicket and petticoat, and fair new stockings, the which she had never seen to this hour; and he commanded she put off what she wore, and wear this instead. And she would know why, though in greater and greater fear at this further madness. But he would only say 'twas to please the keepers of the well. So she said, sir, and could make nothing of it, yet knew she must obey.
Q. Keepers, you say?
A. Yes, sir. It shall come what was meant, you will see. Then they went, as I told. And she said twice upon the way she asked what they did, and how his Lordship knew she had not bargained for this; and twice his Lordship told her to hold her tongue. And so they passed to where I first saw 'em, sir, as they waited upon their knees.
Q. Before the woman in silver?
A. Yes, sir. Which she said did stand of a sudden before them, as 'twere from magic, some fifty paces off; and that did seem of evil omen and baneful prodigy, most unnatural, not only in her manner of appearing, sir, in that wild place, but by her aspect also. That no sooner did she stand there, than his Lordship knelt and uncovered his head, and Dick also, and Rebecca must do as they. She said, 'twas as if they had met some great lady, a queen, sir. Tho' in all else she looked no earthly queen, no, most cruel and malevolent, that would do them untold harm if not obeyed in all. At first she did naught save stare down upon them, her hair was black and wild, her eyes blacker still. That she might have made some claim to beauty, did not something in her look stink of malice and evil, for at the end of a sudden she did smile upon them, yet was that smile, said Rebecca, a thousand times worse than her staring, 'twas as a spider might smile upon a fly fallen in its web, see you, that licks its chops before a tidbit.
Q. How old was she?
A. Young, sir, of Rebecca's own age, though different in all else. So she said.
Q. She did not speak?
A. No, sir, stood there in silence, yet 'twas part so they were expected. Which notion she took also from that neither his Lordship nor Dick did seem set aback at this most sinister spirit, more it were familiar.
Q. These clothes of silver - what of them?
A. None such as common woman had ever worn, not even such she had seen in masque and pantomime or the like of London; that she might, had she seen them in circumstance less awful, have mocked them for their shape and fashion, 'twas so fantastickal and unseemly.
Q, How did this encounter end?
A. Why, as it began, sir. Of a sudden she was not there, but disappeared into thin air.
Q. Had she so lost her tongue she did not ask his Lordship of whom this evil vision was?
A. I forget, sir. In truth she did and told me he answered, She thou art here to please, among others. And she would know more, but was told to ask no more, soon she would see.
Q. What said his Lordship to her when she would not go into the cavern? You said, they did speak.
A. More upbraidings, that she was sullen and rebellious and he would not stand for it from a whore already bought. And then when they came near the cavern, and she could no more, and turned to beg his mercy on her knees, and he drew, she said he said, Damn thee, my life's ambition lies inside that place, and I'll kill thee before I'm thwarted of it. And she said his hand trembled like one in a fever, or crazed, sir, and she verily believed he'd have done as he said, had she not obeyed.
Q. He gave no hint of why she was so necessary to the fulfilment of this ambition?
A. Not one, sir. It shall come. Do I tell your worship now what lay within?
Q. Thou shalt, and all.
A. At first she could see nothing, all seemed black as night, sir. Still she must go forward, since she was pulled by Dick, until she made out a light upon a further wall, as of a fire, and smelt the burning of it. Then they come to a corner, for, see you, the cavern is shaped as the leg of a dog, a greater part opened where it bent back somewhat. And there, sir, she said, was opened such a scene as turned her poor mortal blood to ice.
> Q. Why stop you, man?
A. Sir, you will not credit me.
Q. I'll credit thee the greatest flogging of your life, if thou dost not make haste.
A. And I fear the same when you hear, sir. But so I must. I tell as told, sir, I pray your worship remember that. There in the great inner chamber of the cavern she saw a fire and by it two hideous old women and a younger, who she knew at once for witches, for they stared most balefully, yet in seeming expectation, as if they awaited this. And how one was she they had met in their coming, the younger, tho' now she was garbed all in black, and did hold a bellows in her hand; and how another did sit with a great black cat and a raven at her sides, her familiars; while the other that was third span thread upon a wheel. And how behind these three stood one dressed in a dark cloak and masked, as it might be a hangman, sir, she said, but that the mask covered not his mouth, where he seemed as dark and his lips full-fleshed as a blackamoor's. And tho' she had seen him but in a glimpse before, she knew upon the instant who he was and what dreadful plight she was now in. Satan, sir, plain as I see you, Bezzle Bob as the common say. And cried out loud in her horror, which I heard, as I told. She would run off, did Dick and his Lordship not hold her so tight, and make her go forward toward the fire. Where they stopped, and his Lordship spoke in a tongue she could not follow, it seemed with great respect, as one might speak to a great lord or king. Tho' Satan said not a word, yet seemed to stare upon her with eyes as red as fire behind his mask. And again she would escape, and could not, for Dick and his Lordship stood as ones tranced, yet did not loose their hold upon her. And she said she began to say the Lord's Prayer beneath her breath, but finished it not, for the youngest hag pointed a finger of accusation to her, to say she knew what Rebecca did, tho' 'twas without speaking. And how next the two older witches came to her and began to pinch and feel her so she were a trussed fowl, 'spite she began to weep and did beg for mercy. And she said they who held her had been pillars of flint for all they seemed to hear, holding her still for the hags to feel her, like they were hodmandod cannibals as well as witches. That did smell most vile, rank as goats. And the more she cried, the more the two hags cackled and felt her body. The while of which, Satan came closer from where he stood, the better to view this sport.
Q. Stop. Now think, Jones, and tell me this. She was formal, this was Satan in person? That is, not one for some purpose dressed to impose upon her. Not some tricked-up semblance?
A. Sir, I asked her later that very question, and more than once. But she would not have it. As sure she was 'twas him in the flesh, as the horse we rode was horse. Her very words, sir.
Q. Very well. I will tell you now, this is beyond my belief, Jones. The strumpet was lying in her teeth.
A. Sir, it may be. I know not now what to believe, save I am certain that some most strange thing happened. She was much changed, sir. No more the Rebecca of old, see you.
Q. Proceed.
A. Next, sir, I blush to tell; but must. For she was forced back upon the ground, while the two hags went to their master and served as his tire-maids, until he stood naked, proud in his demon's lust and would come down upon her, though she still wept and cried, for she thought this her Day of Judgement, punishment upon her for all her past sins at Mother Claiborne's. So she said, sir, as he stood above her, black as Ham, to have his will. Of what happened next she knew not, sir, for she said she swooned, and knew not how long she lay in her swoon, but that when she woke she found herself lying on one side, she must suppose dragged or carried there, and felt a great pain in her privities, as if her swooning had not spared her and some rude forcing had taken place. Then that she peeped open her eyes and saw what she could scarce believe, sir, for the young hag and his Lordship stood naked before the Devil like man and bride, and he married them, or made out to do so in blasphemous mock, sir, and blessed them in evil jest, gave them his nether parts to kiss, which they did; and that this black wedding, 'twas no sooner done in such wicked form than done in the flesh, and all about the fire fell likewise to practising abominations among themselves, as 'tis said witches do in their covens.
Q. Do you say, his Lordship also?
A. Yes, sir, the Devil and his handmaids, Dick and his master. All. And you must forgive me, sir, his Lordship was cured of his previous state and seemed most eager in the lewdness, as if to vie with the Devil himself. So she said; and how she had seen somewhat in this guise at Claiborne's, yet none like this. Why, even the raven stood upon the cat, as though to cover her.
Q. Now I ask this, but first I make warning. What is said here between us thou shalt not repeat. Shouldst thou speak and I hear, it is thy doom soon after. Is that most clear?
A. Most clear, sir. I swear I shall not.
Q. And had better not, Jones, or by Heavens thou art dead. This is my question. Said she that among these lecherous abominations that she saw there was one practised between his Lordship and his man alone?
A. Sir, save the black wedding she did not tell what she saw, no more than that it took place.
Q. She spake not of such a vile act in the particular?
A. No, sir.
Q. Saw you no sign, it matters not when or where upon your journey, of such an unnatural relationship between his Lordship and Dick?
A. No, sir, upon my life.
Q. You are certain, Jones?
A. Certain, sir.
Q. Very well. Now tell on as she told.
A. That in some interval in these foul diversions one of the hags came and shook her by the shoulder where she lay, as if to see whether she waked yet. Rebecca made pretence of being still swooned. Whereupon the hag went off and fetched some potion and forced her to take some in her mouth. 'Twas nauseous and bitter, said Rebecca, as of aloes or venomed toadstools. Its effect drowsing, for soon she fell asleep; yet had no relief in it, as your worship might think, for she had a dream that seemed not a dream, so real it seemed, and like waking. In it she walked down a passage-hall, or gallery, as in some noble house, that was hung with great tapestries as far as she could see. And the Devil was beside her, in a black suit, who now treated her with a seeming courtesy, so a gentleman might show a lady his estate and its possessions, tho' he said nothing. So be it when she chanced to look more closely on his face, it was not he she had seen in the cavern, no, more like
his Lordship's, tho' swart of skin; yet somehow she knew they were both the one, despite this strangeness.
Q. They spake no word?
A. No, for she said in that it seemed truly as in a dream. That while they walked he would touch her arm and show her this or that of the hangings, as he might point to a picture by some, great master of the brush or pencil, sir. And I forget, she said all was in a poor light, sometimes shadowed and hard to discern, yet even that light seemed most diabolickal, for there was no windows, no lustres, no flambeaux, no, not even the smallest candle. And moreover, as they walked this dark gallery, she saw these hangings lay not still. They moved, they swole and fell, as if touched by some wind or air behind them. Yet she felt none upon her face.
Q. What showed they, these hangings?
A. Why, sir, she said all kind of most monstrous horror and cruelty of man against man, such as waking she could not have borne to see but did seem now obliged to study. For Satan had only to point, and willy-nilly her gaze must follow. And the more horror still because the figures and nature therein stood not fixed, as in your true pictured hanging, yet moving as in life, tho' silent. And so lifelike, said she, there appeared no stitches nor threads, why, the very scene they would represent seemed acted again, as on a stage for one who stood close by in the pit. And yet she must look at all, as commanded, like as she had no lids to close her eyes against such inhuman cruelty. How there was death in all, sir. And the Devil himself in all, sometimes taking a main part, the bespeaker, at others standing aloof, with a malignant smile, so to say, My work is done for me, see what good helpers I have in this world. And as she looked the furthest scenes would seem of a sudden
brought close. How one moment she might view as if from a hill a city below being pillaged by soldiers, and the next as from ten paces poor innocent children being put to the sword or their mother ravished before their eyes. A torture chamber, through a window; then stood she above the victim's face in his agony. So, sir. You must believe me.
Q. And how did this dream end?
A. She felt a great thirst, or so she put it, sir, she did mean it in her soul, a need for Christ our Redeemer. And began to look in these hangings for some sign of him, a cross, a crucifix, yet could find none; till at last they came to a place where this Devil's gallery seemed to end, for she saw a wall that closed it and upon it a hanging that seemed to shine with a greater light, though she could not yet make out what it showed. Some little hope began to spring in her breast that Christ lay there, as we all hope at the end of our travails in this world. And she would hasten to it, but still was made to stop and unwillingly to look where she had already seen more than enough. Then, sir, she could bear it no more, and broke away and raised her petticoats and ran to where she thought her thirst should be quenched. 'Twas the greatest deceiving of all, sir. For as she came close she saw it was no Christ portrayed, 'twas a barefoot beggar girl in rags, who wept like Rebecca herself and seemed to raise her arms towards her as a child to its mother. And behind, sir, she said all was fire, endless fire under an endless night, as far as she could see, and whence came this greater light; and tho' 'twas in her seeing, she could feel no heat herself, yet could see the little beggar-girl that reached to her did so feel it, and most terribly, and was stricken with pity and sorrow for her. And would reach to save her, sir, but could not, however much she tried, she said when it seemed they might touch 'twas as if a pane of glass lay between them, tho' none to be seen. And I must not forget, she said as she told it me, sir, there came to her as she tried in vain to touch and save the child a belief she had known her before, that they had once lain close in love and affection, as sisters might; albeit now, upon reflection, she said she believed it her own self, as she was before her coming to London; how for some reason, perhaps the child's clothes (though she had been poor, sir, she was never a beggar) she did not in her dream know herself.