CHAPTER VII
THREE PHILOSOPHERS AND THEIR FRIENDS
Whereupon Chance forged yet another link in the chain of a man'sdestiny.
I pray you follow me now to the tapperij of the "Lame Cow." I had notasked you to accompany me thither were it not for the fact that the"Lame Cow" situate in the Kleine Hout Straat not far from the Cathedral,was a well-ordered and highly respectable tavern, where indeed the sobermerry-makers of Haarlem as well as the gay and gilded youth of the citywere wont to seek both pleasure and solace.
You all know the house with its flat facade of red brick, its smallwindows and tall, very tall gabled roof that ends in a point high upabove the front door. The tapperij is on your left as you enter. It iswainscotted with oak which was already black with age in the year 1623;above the wainscot the walls are white-washed, and Mynheer Beek, thehost of the "Lame Cow," who is a pious man, has hung the walls roundwith scriptural texts, appropriate to his establishment, such as: "Eat,drink and be merry!" and "Drink thy wine with a merry heart!"
From which I hope that I have convinced you that the "Lame Cow" was aneminently orderly place of conviviality, where worthy burghers ofHaarlem could drink ale and hot posset in the company of mevrouws, theirwives.
And it was to this highly praised and greatly respected establishmentthat three tired-out and very thirsty philosophers repaired this NewYear's night, instead of attending the watch-night service at one of thechurches.
Diogenes, feeling that three guilders still reposed safely in hiswallet, declared his intention of continuing his career as a gentleman,and a gentleman of course could not resort to one of those low-classtaverns which were usually good enough for foreign adventurers.
And thus did Fate have her will with him and brought him here thisnight.
Moreover the tap-room of the "Lame Cow" wore a very gay appearancealways on New Year's night. It was noted for its clientele on thatoccasion, for the good Rhenish wine which it dispensed, and for the gaysight engendered by the Sunday gowns of the burghers and their ladieswho came here after service for a glass of wine and multifarious relish.
As the night was fine, despite the hard frost, Mynheer Beek expected tobe unusually busy. Already he had arranged on the polished tables therows of pewter platters heaped up with delicacies which he knew would bein great request when the guests would begin to arrive: smoked sausagegarnished with horseradish, roasted liver and slabs of cheese.
The serving wenches with the sleeves of their linen shifts tucked wellup above their round red arms, their stolid faces streaming withperspiration, were busy polishing tables that already were over-polishedand making pewter mugs to shine that already shone with a dazzlingradiance.
For the nonce the place was still empty and the philosophers when theyentered were able to select the table at which they wished to sit--onenear the hearth in which blazed gigantic logs, and at which they couldstretch out their limbs with comfort.
At Diogenes' suggestion they all made hasty repairs to their disorderedtoilet, and re-adjusted the set of their collars and cuffs with the helpof the small mirror that hung close by against the wall.
Three strange forms of a truth that were thus mirrored in turns.
Socrates with a hole in his head, now freshly bandaged with a bit ofclean linen by the sympathetic hand of a serving maid: his hooked noseneatly washed till it shone like the pewter handle of a knife, hispointed cranium but sparsely furnished with lanky black hair peeping outabove the bandage like a yellow wurzel in wrappings of paper. His armsand legs were unusually long and unusually thin, and he had long leanhands and long narrow feet, but his body was short and slightly bentforward as if under the weight of his head, which also was narrow andlong. His neck was like that of a stork that has been half-plucked, itrose from out the centre of his ruffled collar with a curious undulatingmovement, which suggested that he could turn it right round and look atthe middle of his own back. He wore a brown doublet of duffle and browntrunks and hose, and boots that appeared to be too big even for his hugefeet.
Beside him Pythagoras looked like the full stop in a semi-colon, for hewas but little over five feet in height and very fat. His doublet ofthick green cloth had long ago burst its buttons across his protuberentchest. His face, which was round as a full moon, was highly colouredeven to the tip of his small upturned nose, and his forehead, crowned bya thick mass of red-brown hair which fell in heavy and lanky waves downto his eyebrows, was always wet and shiny. He had a habit of standingwith legs wide apart, his abdomen thrust forward and his small podgyhands resting upon it. His eyes were very small and blinked incessantly.Below his double chin he wore a huge bow of starched white linen, whichat this moment was sadly crumpled and stained, and his collar which alsohad seen more prosperous days was held together by a piece of string.
Like his friend Socrates, his trunk and hose were of worsted, and hewore high leather boots which reached well above the knee and looked tohave been intended for a much taller person. The hat, with the tallsugar-loaf crown, which he had picked up after the fray in the DamStraat, was much too small for his big round head. He tried, before themirror, to adjust it at a becoming angle.
In strange contrast to these two worthies was their friend whom theycalled Diogenes. He himself, had you questioned him ever so closely,could not have told you from what ancestry or what unknown parent hadcome to him that air of swagger and of assurance which his avowed penuryhad never the power to subdue. Tall above the average, powerfully builtand solidly planted on firm limbs he looked what he easily might havebeen, a gentleman to the last inch of him. The brow was fine and broad,the nose sensitive and well shaped, the mouth a perfect expression ofgentle irony. The soft brown hair, abundant and unruly, lent perhaps acertain air of untamed wildness to the face, whilst the upturnedmoustache and the tiny tuft below the upper lip accentuated the look ofdevil-may-care independence which was the chief characteristic of themouth.
But the eyes were the most remarkable feature of all. They shone with anunconquerable merriment, they twinkled and sparkled, and smiled andmocked, they winked and they beckoned. They were eyes to which you wereobliged to smile in response, eyes that made you laugh if you felt everso sad, eyes that jested even before the mouth had spoken, and the mouthitself was permanently curved into a smile.
Unlike his two companions, Diogenes was dressed not only with scrupulouscare but with a show of elegance. His doublet though well-worn wasfashioned of fine black cloth, the slashed sleeves still showed theremnants of gold embroidery, whilst the lace of his pleated collar wasof beautiful design.
* * * * *
Having completed their toilet the three friends sat at their table andsipped their ale and wine in comparative silence for a time. Socrates,weary with his wound, soon fell asleep with his arms stretched outbefore him and his head resting in the bend of his elbow.
Pythagoras too nodded in his chair; but Diogenes remained wide awake,and no doubt Mynheer Beek's wine gave him pleasing thoughts, for themerry look never fled from his eyes.
Half an hour later you would scarce have recognised the tapperij fromits previous orderly silence, for at about one o'clock it began to fillvery fast. Mynheer Beek's guests were arriving.
It was still bitterly cold and they all came into the warm room clappingtheir hands together and stamping the frozen snow off their feet, loudlydemanding hot ale or mulled wine, to be supplemented later on by moresubstantial fare.
The two serving wenches were more busy, hotter and more profuselystreaming with moisture than they had ever been before. It was "Kaethihere!" and "Luise, why don't you hurry?" all over the tapperij now; andevery moment the noise became louder and more cheery.
Every corner of the low, raftered room was filled to over-flowing withchairs and tables. People sat everywhere where a perch was to befound--on the corners of the tables and on the window sill and many saton the floor who could not find room elsewhere. The women sat on themen's knees, and many of them had children
in their arms as well. Forindeed, on watch-night, room had to be found for every one who wanted tocome in; no one who wanted to drink and to make merry must be left towander out in the cold.
A veritable babel of tongues made the white-washed walls echo from endto end, for Haarlem now was a mightily prosperous city, and there were agreat many foreign traders inside her walls, and some of these hadthought to make merry this night in the famed tap-room of the "LameCow." French merchants with their silks, English ones with fine clothsand paper, then there were the Jew dealers from Frankfurt and Amsterdam,and the Walloon cattle drovers from Flanders.
Here and there the splendid uniform of a member of one of the shootingguilds struck a note of splendour among the drabs and russets of worsteddoublets and the brilliant crimson or purple sashes gleamed in thefeeble light of the tallow candles which spluttered and flickered intheir sconces.
Then amongst them all were the foreign mercenaries, from Italy orBrabant or Germany, or from God knows where, loud of speech, aggressivein appearance, carrying swords and wearing spurs, filling the place withtheir swagger and their ribaldry.
They had come to the Netherlands at the expiration of the truce withSpain, offering to sell their sword and their skin to the highestbidder. They seemed all to be friends and boon companions together,called each other queer, fantastic names and shouted their rough jeststo one another across the width of the room. Homeless, shiftless,thriftless, they knew no other names save those which chance or thecoarse buffoonery of their friends had endowed them with. There was aman here to-night who was called Wry-face and another who went by thename of Gutter-rat. Not one amongst them mayhap could have told you whohis father was or who his mother, nor where he himself had first seenthe light of day; but they all knew of one another's career, of oneanother's prowess in the field at Prague or Ghent or Magdeburg, and theyformed a band of brothers--offensive and defensive--which was thedespair of the town-guard whenever the law had to be enforced againstanyone of them.
It was at the hour when Mynheer Beek was beginning to hope that hisguests would soon bethink themselves of returning home and leaving himto his own supper and bed, that a party of these worthies made noisyinterruption into the room. They brought with them an atmosphere ofboisterous gaiety with their clanking spurs and swords, their loudverbiage and burly personality.
"Hech da!" yelled one of these in a stentorian voice, "whom have wethere, snug and cosy in the warmest corner of this hole but our threewell-beloved philosophers. Diogenes, old compeer," he shouted stilllouder than before, "is there room in your tub for your friends?"
"Plenty round this table, O noble Gutter-rat," shouted Diogenes injoyful response, "but let me give you warning that space as well ascommon funds are running short, and that every newcomer who wants to sitmust stand the others a draught of ale apiece; that is the price of acorner of this bench on which ye may sit if ye have a mind."
"Done with you," agreed all the newcomers lustily, and with scantceremony they pushed their way through the closely packed throng.
They took no notice of the mutterings of more sober customers, angeredat seeing their mantles crushed or feeling their toes trodden on. Itsuddenly seemed as if the whole place belonged to these men and that thepeaceful burghers of the city were only here on suffrance.
The three philosophers had already called for some old Rhenish wine ondraught. Kaethi and Luise brought pewter jugs and more goblets along.Soon Gutter-rat and his friends were installed at the table, squeezedagainst one another on the narrow wooden benches. Pythagoras had alreadyrolled off his corner seat and was sitting on the floor; Diogenes wasperched on the corner of the table.
Socrates roused by the noise, opened a pair of heavy eyes and blinkedround him in astonishment. Gutter-rat deposited his bulky form closebeside him and brought his large and grimy hand down on the shoulder ofthe sleepy philosopher.
"Hello, wise Socrates," he cried in his rough, husky voice, "I hope youhave been having pleasant dreams."
"No, I have not," growled Socrates laconically.
"Take no heed of him," laughed Diogenes, "he has a hole in his headthrough which his good temper has been oozing out bit by bit. And yet ifyou'll all believe me he has been reposing there so peacefully andsnoring so lustily that I thought he must be dreaming of Heaven and thelast trumpet call."
"I was dreaming of all the chances which Pythagoras and I have missedto-night owing to your d----d nonsense," said Socrates, who was moresulky now than he had been before he went to sleep.
Pythagoras uttered a prolonged sigh and gazed meditatively down into thedepths of his mug of ale. Gutter-rat and the others looked inquiringlyfrom one philosopher to the other.
"Diogenes been at his tricks again?" asked Gutter-rat.
Socrates and Pythagoras nodded in their gloomy response.
"Gallantry, eh? some beauteous damsel, to succour whom we throw ourlife, our best chances away?" continued the other with ironicalsympathy, the while Diogenes' entire face was wreathed in one huge,all-embracing smile. Gutter-rat admonished him with solemn voice anduplifted finger.
"Conduct unworthy a philosopher," he said.
"If he had only injured himself," growled Socrates.
"And let us enjoy the gifts which a beneficent goddess was ready to pourinto our lap," added Pythagoras dulcetly from the floor.
"Let's hear the story," concluded Gutter-rat.
The others clapped their mugs against the table-top and shouted: "Thestory! the story!" to the accompaniment of din that drowned all othernoises in the room.
Pythagoras from his lowly position began his narrative in a faint,injured tone of voice. He related the incidents of this night from themoment when the chance of possessing oneself with but little trouble ofa tulip bulb worth fifteen thousand florins was so airily flouted, downto the awful moment when a young and beauteous lady made offers ofinfluence and of money which were equally airily refused.
Gutter-rat and the others listened attentively. They specially relishedthe exciting incidents connected with the affray in Dam Straat, thebreaking of Jan Tiele's nose and the dispersal of the mob with the aidof a lighted torch.
"Bravo! splendid!" they shouted at intervals and loudly expressed theirregret at having missed such furious fun.
Socrates threw in a word or two now and then, when Pythagoras did notfully explain his own valorous position in the fight, but Diogenes saidnothing at all; he allowed his comrade to tell the tale his own way; therecollection of it seemed to afford him vast amusement for he hummed alively tune to himself all the while.
Pythagoras now was mimicking his friend, throwing into this performanceall the disgust which he felt.
"Raise thy hand to my lips, mejuffrouw," he said mincing his words,"momentarily I have not the use of mine own."
His round, beady eyes appealed to his listeners for sympathy, and thereis no doubt that he got that in plenty. Gutter-rat more especiallyhighly disapproved of the denouement of what might have proved alucrative adventure.
"The rich jongejuffrouw might even have fallen in love with you," hesaid sternly to Diogenes, "and endowed you with her father's wealth andinfluence."
"That's just my complaint," said Pythagoras, "but no! what else do youthink he said earlier in the evening?"
"Well?"
"To-night we'll behave like gentlemen," quoted the other withever-growing disgust, "and not like common thieves."
"Why to-night?" queried Gutter-rat in amazement. "Why more especiallyto-night?"
Pythagoras and Socrates both shrugged their shoulders and suggested noexplanation. After which there was more vigorous clapping of mugsagainst the table-top and Diogenes was loudly summoned to explain.
"Why to-night? why to-night?" was shouted at him from every side.
Diogenes' face became for one brief moment quite grave--quite grave beit said, but for his eyes which believe me could not have looked gravehad they tried.
"Because," he said at last when the shouts around him had somewhatsu
bsided, "I had three guilders in my wallet, because my night's lodgingis assured for the next three nights and because my chief creditor hasdied like a hero. Therefore, O comrades all! I could afford the luxury."
"What luxury?" sneered Gutter-rat in disgust, "to refuse the patronageof an influential burgher of this city, backed by the enthusiasm of thebeauteous damsel, his daughter?"
"To refuse all patronage, good comrade," assented Diogenes withemphasis.
"Bah! for twenty-four hours!..."
"Yes! for twenty-four hours, friend Gutter-rat, while those threeflorins last and I have a roof over my head for which I have alreadypaid ... I can for those four and twenty hours afford the luxury ofdoing exactly and only what it pleases me to do."
He threw up his head and stretched out his massive limbs with a gestureof infinite satisfaction, his merry mocking glance sweeping over thecompany of watch-night revellers, out-at-elbows ragamuffins, and soberburghers with their respectable vrouws, all of whom were gaping on himopen-mouthed.
"For four and twenty hours, my dear Gutter-rat," he continued after along sigh of contentment, "that is during this day which has just dawnedand the night which must inevitably follow it, I am going to give myselfthe luxury of speaking only when I choose and of being dumb if the fancyso takes me ... while my three florins last and I know that I need notsleep under the stars, I shall owe my fealty only to my whim--I shalldream when and what I I like, sing what I like, walk in company oralone. For four and twenty hours I need not be the ivy that clings northe hose that is ragged at the knee. I shall be at liberty to wear mysash awry, my shoes unbuckled, my hat tilted at an angle which pleasesme best. Above all, O worthy rat of the gutter, I need not stoop forfour and twenty hours one inch lower than I choose, or render aught toCaesar for Caesar will have rendered naught to me. On this the first dayof the New Year there is no man or woman living who can dictate to mewhat I shall do, and to-night in the lodgings for which I have paid,when I am asleep I can dream that I am climbing up the heights toward amountain top which mayhap doth not quite stretch as far as the clouds,but which I can reach alone. To-day and to-night I am a man and not abit of ribbon that flutters at the breath of man or woman who has paidfor the fluttering with patronage."
Gradually as he spoke and his fresh young voice, sonorous withenthusiasm rang clearly from end to end of the raftered room,conversation, laughter, bibulous songs were stilled and every one turnedto look at the speaker, wondering who he could be. The good burghers ofHaarlem had no liking for the foreign mercenaries for whom theyprofessed vast contempt because of their calling, and because of theexcesses which they committed at the storming of these very walls, whichevent was within the memory of most. Therefore, though they wereattracted by the speaker, they were disgusted to find that he belongedto that rabble; but the women thought that he was goodly to look upon,with those merry, twinkling eyes of his, and that atmosphere oflight-heartedness and a gaiety which he diffused around him. Some of themen who were there and who professed knowledge in such matters, declaredthat this man's speech betrayed him for an Englishman.
"I like not the race," said a pompous man who sat with wife and kindredround a table loaded with good things. "I remember the English Leicesterand his crowd, men of loose morals and doubtful piety; braggarts androisterers we all thought them. This man is very like some of them inappearance."
"Thou speakest truly, O wise citizen of this worthy republic," saidDiogenes, boldly answering the man's low-spoken words, "my father wasone of the roisterers who came in English Leicester's train. AnEnglishman he, of loose morals and doubtful piety no doubt, but yoursound Dutch example and my mother's Dutch blood--Heaven rest hersoul--have both sobered me since then."
He looked round at the crowd of faces, all of which were now turnedtoward him, kindly faces and angry ones, contemptuous eyes andgood-natured ones, and some that expressed both compassion and reproof.
"By the Lord," he said, and as he spoke he threw back his head and burstinto a loud and prolonged fit of laughter, "but I have never in my lifeseen so many ugly faces before."
There was a murmur and many angry words among the assembly. One or twoof the men half rose from their seats, scowling viciously and clenchingtheir fists. Master Beek perspiring with anxiety saw these signs of apossible fray. The thought drove him well-nigh frantic. An affray in hisestablishment on New Year's morning! it was unthinkable! He rushed roundto his customers with a veritable dictionary of soothing words upon histongue.
"Gentlemen! gentlemen," he entreated, "I beg of you to calmyourselves.... I humbly beseech you to pay no heed to these men...."
"Plepshurk! Insolent rabble!" quoth a corpulent gentleman who wascrimson with wrath.
"Yes, mynheer, yes, yes," stammered Beek meekly, "but they areforeigners ... they ... they do not understand our Dutch ways ... butthey mean no harm ... they...."
Some of the younger men were not easily pacified.
"Throw them out, Beek," said one of them curtly.
"They make the place insufferable with their bragging and theirinsolence," muttered another.
Diogenes and his friends could not help but see these signs of latentstorm, and Mynheer Beek's feeble efforts at pacifying his wrathfulguests. Diogenes had laughed long and loudly, now he had to stop in
order to wipe his eyes which were streaming; then quite casually he drewBucephalus from its scabbard and thoughtfully examined its blade.
Almost simultaneously the fraternity of merry-makers at his table alsoshowed a sudden desire to examine the blade of their swords andimmediately half a dozen glints of steel caught the reflection of tallowcandles.
I would not assert that order was restored because of these unconsciousgestures on the part of the insolent rabble aforesaid, but certain it isthat within the next few seconds decorum once more prevailed as if magichad called it forth.
Mynheer Beek heaved a sigh of relief.
"All that you said just now was well spoken, sir," broke in a firm voicewhich proceeded from a group of gentlemen who sat at a table next to theone occupied by the philosophers and their friends, "but 'twereinteresting to hear what you propose doing on the second day of this NewYear."
Diogenes was in no hurry to reply. The man who had just spoken satdirectly behind him, and Bucephalus--so it seemed--still required hisclose attention. When he had once more replaced his faithful friend intoits delicately wrought scabbard he turned leisurely round and from theelevated position which he still occupied on the corner of the table hefaced his interlocutor.
"What I propose doing?" he quoth politely.
"Why yes. You said just now that for four and twenty hours you were freeto dream and to act as you will, but how will it be to-morrow?"
"To-morrow, sir," rejoined Diogenes lightly, "I shall be as poor inpocket as the burghers of Haarlem are in wits, and then...."
"Yes? and then?"
"Why then, sir, I shall once more become an integral portion of thatrabble to which you and your friends think no doubt that I rightlybelong. I shall not have one silver coin in my wallet and in order toobtain a handful I shall be ready to sell my soul to the devil, my skinto the Stadtholder...."
"And your honour, sir?" queried the other with a sneer, "to whom willyou sell that precious guerdon to-morrow?"
"To you, sir," retorted Diogenes promptly, "an you are short of thecommodity."
An angry word rose to the other man's lips, but his eyes encounteredthose of his antagonist and something in the latter's look, something inthe mocking eyes, the merry face, seemed to disarm him and to quench hiswrath. He even laughed good-humouredly and said:
"Well spoken, sir. You had me fairly there with the point of yourtongue. No doubt you are equally skilful with the point of yourrapier...."
"It shall be at your service after to-morrow, sir," rejoined Diogeneslightly.
"You live by the profession of arms, sir? No offence, 'tis a noblecalling, though none too lucrative I understand."
"My wits supply, sir, what
my sword cannot always command."
"You are ambitious?"
"I told my friends just now wherein lay my ambition."
"Money--an independent competence ... so I understand. But surely atyour age, and--if you will pardon mine outspokenness--with your looks,sir, women or mayhap one woman must play some part in your dreams of thefuture."
"Women, sir," retorted Diogenes dryly, "should never play a leadingrole in the comedy of a philosopher's life. As a means to anend--perhaps ... the final denouement...."
"Always that one aim I see--a desire for complete independence which thepossession of wealth alone can give."
"Always," replied the other curtly.
"And beyond that desire, what is your chief ambition, sir?"
"To be left alone when I have no mind to talk," said Diogenes with asmile which was so pleasant, so merry, so full of self-deprecating ironythat it tempered the incivility of his reply.
Again the other bit his lip, checking an angry word; for someunexplained reason he appeared determined not to quarrel with thisinsolent young knave. The others stared at their friend in utterastonishment.
"What fly hath bitten Beresteyn's ear?" whispered one of them under hisbreath. "I have never known him so civil to a stranger or so unwillingto take offence."
Certainly the other man's good humour did not seem to have abated onejot; after an imperceptible moment's pause, he rejoined with perfectsuavity:
"You do not belie your name, sir, I heard your friends calling youDiogenes, and I feel proud that you should look on me as Alexander andcall on me to stand out of your sunshine."
"I crave your pardon, sir," said Diogenes somewhat more seriously, "myincivility is unwarrantable in the face of your courtesy. No doubt ithad its origin in the fact that like my namesake I happened to wantnothing at the moment. To-morrow, sir, an you are minded to pay for myservices, to ask for my sword, my soul or my wits, and in exchange willoffer me the chance of winning a fortune or of marrying a wife who isboth rich and comely, why sir, I shall be your man, and will e'enendeavour to satisfy you with the politeness of my speech and thepromptness and efficiency of my deeds. To-morrow, sir, you and the devilwill have an equal chance of purchasing my soul for a few thousandguilders, my wits for a paltry hundred, my skin for a good supper and adowny bed--to-morrow the desire will seize me once again to possesswealth at any cost, and my friends here will have no cause to complainof my playing a part which becomes a penniless wastrel like myself soill--the part of a gentleman. Until then, sir, I bid you good-night. Thehour is late and Mynheer Beek is desirous of closing this abode ofpleasure. As for me, my lodgings being paid for I do not care to leavethem unoccupied."
Whereupon he rose and to Mynheer Beek--who came to him with that sameubiquitous smile which did duty for all the customers of the "LameCow"--he threw the three silver guilders which the latter demanded inpayment for the wine and ale supplied to the honourable gentleman: thenas he met the mocking glance of his former interlocutor he said with arecrudescence of gaiety:
"I still have my lodgings, gentle sir, and need not sell my soul or myskin until after I have felt a gnawing desire for breakfast."
With a graceful flourish of his plumed hat he bowed to the assembledcompany and walked out of the tap-room of the "Lame Cow" with swaggerthat would have befitted the audience chamber of a king.
In his wake followed the band of his boon companions, they too strodeout of the place with much jingle of steel and loud clatter of heavyboots and accoutrements. They laughed and talked loudly as they left andgesticulated with an air of independence which once more drew upon themthe wrathful looks and contemptuous shrugs of the sober townsfolk.
Diogenes alone as he finally turned once again in the doorwayencountered many a timid glance levelled at him that were soft andkindly. These glances came from the women, from the young and from theold, for women are strange creatures of whims and of fancies, and therewas something in the swaggering insolence of that young malapert thatmade them think of breezy days upon the sea-shore, of the song of thesoaring lark, of hyacinths in bloom and the young larches on the edge ofthe wood.
And I imagine that their sluggish Dutch blood yielded to theseinfluences and was greatly stirred by memories of youth.