CHAPTER X
AFTER THE PLAY
Through the high streets of the third city of the realm Master GastonCarew strode as if he were a very king, and Coventry his kingdom.
There was music everywhere,--of pipers and fiddlers, drums, tabrets,flutes, and horns,--and there were dancing bears upon the corners, withminstrels, jugglers, chapmen crying their singsong wares, and such amighty hurly-burly as Nick had never seen before. And wherever there wasa wonder to be seen, Carew had Nick see it, though it cost a penny apeep, and lifted him to watch the fencing and quarter-staff play in themarket-place. And at one of the gay booths he bought gilt ginger-nutsand caraway cakes with currants on the top, and gave them all to Nick,who thanked him kindly, but said, if Master Carew pleased, he'd ratherhave his supper, for he was very hungry.
"Why, to be sure," said Carew, and tossed a silver penny for a scrambleto the crowd; "thou shalt have the finest supper in the town."
Whereupon, bowing to all the great folk they met, and being bowed tomost politely in return, they came to the Three Tuns.
Stared at by a hundred curious eyes, made way for everywhere, andfollowed by wondering exclamations of envy, it was little wonder thatNick, a simple country lad, at last began to think that there was not inall the world another gentleman so grand as Master Gaston Carew, andalso to have a pleasant notion that Nicholas Attwood was no badfellow himself.
The lordly innkeeper came smirking and bobbing obsequiously about, withhis freshest towel on his arm, and took the master-player's order as adog would take a bone.
"Here, sirrah," said Carew, haughtily; "fetch us some repast, I care notwhat, so it be wholesome food--a green Banbury cheese, some simnel breadand oat-cakes; a pudding, hark 'e, sweet and full of plums, with honeyand a pasty--a meat pasty, marry, a pasty made of fat and toothsomeeels; and moreover, fellow, ale to wash it down--none of thy penny ale,mind ye, too weak to run out of the spigot, but snapping good brew--dosttake me?--with beef and mustard, tripe, herring, and a good fat caponbroiled to a turn!"
The innkeeper gaped like a fish.
"How now, sirrah? Dost think I cannot pay thy score?" quoth Carew,sharply.
"Nay, nay," stammered the host; "but, sir, where--where will ye put itall without bursting into bits?"
"Be off with thee!" cried Carew, sharply. "That is my affair. Nay,Nick," said he, laughing at the boy's, astonished look; "we shall notburst. What we do not have to-night we'll have in the morning. 'Tis theway with these inns,--to feed the early birds with scraps,--so the morewe leave from supper the more we'll have for breakfast. And thou wiltneed a good breakfast to ride on all day long."
"Ride?" exclaimed Nick. "Why, sir, I was minded to walk back toStratford, and keep my gold rose-noble whole."
"Walk?" cried the master-player, scornfully. "Thou, with thy goldenthroat? Nay, Nicholas, thou shalt ride to-morrow like a very king, if Ihave to pay for the horse myself, twelvepence the day!" and with that hebegan chuckling as if it were a joke.
But Nick stood up, and, bowing, thanked him gratefully; at which themaster-player went from chuckling to laughing, and leered at Nick sooddly that the boy would have thought him tipsy, save that there hadbeen nothing yet to drink. And a queer sense of uneasiness came creepingover him as he watched the master-player's eyes opening and shutting,opening and shutting, so that one moment he seemed to be staring and thenext almost asleep; though all the while his keen, dark eyes peered outfrom between the lids like old dog-foxes from their holes, looking Nickover from head to foot, and from foot to head again, as if measuring himwith an ellwand.
When the supper came, filling the whole table and the sideboard too,Nick arose to serve the meat as he was used at home; but, "Nay, NicholasSkylark, my honey-throat," cried Carew, "sit thee down! Thou wait onme--thou songster of the silver tongue? Nay, nay, sweetheart; the knaveshall wait on thee, or I'll wait on thee myself--I will, upon my word!Why, Nick, I tell thee I love thee, and dost think I'd let thee wait orwalk? nay, nay, thou'lt ride to-morrow like a king, and have allStratford wait for thee!" At this he chuckled so that he almost chokedupon a mouthful of bread and meat.
"Canst ride, Nicholas?"
"Fairly, sir."
"Fairly? Fie, modesty! I warrant thou canst ride like a very centaur.What sayest--I'll ride a ten-mile race with thee to-morrow as we go?"
"Why," cried Nick, "are ye going back to Stratford to play, after all?"
"To Stratford? Nay; not for a bushel of good gold Harry shovel-boards!Bah! That town is ratsbane and nightshade in my mouth! Nay, we'll not goback to Stratford town; but we shall ride a piece with thee,Nicholas,--we shall ride a piece with thee."
Chuckling again to himself, he fell to upon the pasty and said no more.
Nick held his peace, as he was taught to do unless first spoken to; buthe could not help thinking that stage-players, and master-players inparticular, were very queer folk.