Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,


John Fowles A Maggot


A MAGGOT IS the larval stage of a winged creature; as is the written text, at least in the writer's hope. But an older though now obsolete sense of the word is that of whim or quirk. By extension it was sometimes used in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century of dance-tunes and airs that otherwise had no special title ... Mr Beveridge's Maggot, My Lord Byron's Maggot, The Carpenters' Maggot, and so on. This fictional maggot was written very much for the same reason as those old musical ones of the period in which it is set: out of obsession with a theme. For some years before its writing a small group of travellers, faceless, without apparent motive, went in my mind towards an event. Evidently in some past; since they rode horses, and in a deserted landscape; but beyond this very primitive image, nothing. I do not know where it came from, or why it kept obstinately rising from my unconscious. The riders never progressed to any destination. They simply rode along a skyline, like a sequence of looped film in a movie projector; or like a single line of verse, the last remnant of a lost myth. However, one day one of the riders gained a face. By chance I acquired a pencil and water-colour drawing of a young woman. There was no indication of artist, simply a little note in ink in one corner, which seemingly says, in Italian, 16July 1683. This precise dating pleased me at first as much as the drawing itself, which is not of any distinction; yet something in the long dead girl's face, in her eyes, an inexplicable presentness, a refusal to die, came slowly to haunt me. Perhaps it was that refusal to die that linked this real woman with another I have much longer admired, from rather later in history. This fiction is in no way biographically about that second woman, though it does end with her birth in about the real year and quite certainly the real place where she was born. I have given that child her historical name; but I would not have this seen as a historical novel. It is maggot.

John Fowles 1985

Page 1

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

IN THE LATE and last afternoon of an April long ago, a forlorn little group of travellers cross a remote upland in the far south-west ofEngland . All are on horseback, proceeding at a walk along the moorland track. There lies about them, in the bleak landscape, too high to have yet felt the obvious effects of spring, in the uniform grey of the overcast sky, an aura of dismal monotony, an accepted tedium of both journey and season. The peaty track they follow traverses a waste of dead heather and ling; below, in a steep-sided valley, stand unbroken dark woodlands, still more in bud than in leaf. All the furthest distances fade into a mist, and the travellers' clothes are by chance similarly without accent. The day is quite windless, held in a dull suspension. Only in the extreme west does a thin wash of yellow light offer some hope of better weather to come. A man in his late twenties, in a dark bistre greatcoat, boots and a tricorn hat, its upturned edges trimmed discreetly in silver braid, leads the silent caravan. The underparts of his bay, and of his clothes, like those of his companions, are mud-splashed, as if earlier in the day they have travelled in mirier places. He rides with a slack rein and a slight stoop, staring at the track ahead as if he does not see it. Some paces behind comes an older man on a smaller, plumper horse. His greatcoat is in dark grey, his hat black and plainer, and he too looks neither to left nor right, but reads a small volume held in his free hand, letting his placid pad tread its own way. Behind him, on a stouter beast, sit two people: a bareheaded man in a long-sleeved blouse, heavy drugget jerkin and leather breeches, his long hair tied in a knot, with in front of him, sitting sideways and resting against his breast - he supports her back with his right arm - a young woman. She is enveloped in a brown hooded cloak, and muffled so that only her eyes and nose are visible. Behind these two a leading-line runs back to a pack horse. The animal carries a seam, or wooden frame, with a large leather portmanteau tied to one side, and a smaller wooden box, brassbound at its corners, on the other. Various other bundles and bags lie bulkily distributed under a rope net. The overburdened beast plods with hanged head, and sets the pace for the rest. They may travel in silence, but they do not go unobserved. The air across the valley opposite, above where its steepness breaks into rocks and small cliffs, is noisy with deep and ominous voices, complaining of this intrusion into their domain. These threatening voices come from a disturbed ravenry. The bird was then still far from its present rare and solitary state, but common and colonial, surviving even in many towns, and abundantly in isolated countryside. Though the mounted and circling black specks stay at a mile's distance, there is something foreboding in their alarm, their watchful hostility. All who ride that day, for all their difference in many other things, know their reputation; and secretly fear that snoring cry. One might have supposed the two leading riders and the humble apparent journeyman and wife chance-met, merely keeping together for safety in this lonely place. That such a consideration - and not because of ravens - was then requisite is plain in the leading rider. The tip of a sword-sheath protrudes beneath his greatcoat, while on the other side a bulge in the way the coat falls suggests, quite correctly, that a pistol is hung behind the saddle. The journeyman also has a brass-ended holstered pistol, even readier to hand behind his saddle, while strung on top of the netted impedimenta on the dejected pack-horse's back is a long-barrelled musket. Only the older, second rider seems not armed. It is he who is the exception for his time. Yet if they had been chance-met, the two gentlemen would surely have

Page 2

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

been exchanging some sort of conversation and riding abreast, which the track permitted. These two pass not a word; nor does the man with the woman behind him. All ride as if lost in their own separate worlds. The track at last begins to slope diagonally down the upland towards the first of the woods in the valley below. A mile or so on, these woods give way to fields; and as far away again, where the valley runs into another, can just be made out, in a thin veil of wood smoke, an obscure cluster of buildings and an imposing church tower. In the west the sky begins to show amber glints from invisible breaks of cloud. That again, in other travellers, might have provoked some remark, some lighter heart; but in these, no reaction. Then, dramatically, another figure on horseback appears from where the way enters the trees, mounting towards the travellers. He does provide colour, since he wears a faded scarlet riding-coat and what seems like a dragoon's hat; a squareset man of indeterminate age with a large moustache. The long cutlass behind his saddle and the massive wooden butt of a stout-cased blunderbuss suggest a familiar hazard; and so does the way in which, as soon as he sees the approaching file ahead, he kicks his horse and trots more briskly up the hill as if to halt and challenge them. But they show neither alarm nor excitement. Only the elder man who reads as he rides quietly closes his volume and slips it into his greatcoat pocket. The newcomer reins in some ten yards short of the leading younger gentleman, then touches his hat and turns his horse to walk beside him. He says something, and the gentleman nods, without looking at him. The newcomer touches his hat again, then pulls aside and waits until the last pair come abreast of him. They stop, and the newcomer leans across and unfastens the leading-line of the pack-horse from its ring behind the saddle. No friendly word seems spoken, even here. The newcomer then takes his place, now leading the pack-horse, at the rear of the procession; and very soon it is as if he has always been there, one more mute limb of the indifferent rest. They enter the leafless trees. The track falls steeper and harsher, since it serves as a temporary stream bed during the winter rains. More and more often comes the ring of iron shoes striking stone. They arrive at what is almost a ravine, sloping faces of half-buried rock, an awkward scramble even on foot. The leading rider seems not to notice it, though his horse hesitates nervously, picking its way. One of its hind feet slips, for a moment it seems it must fall, and trap its rider. But somehow it, and the lurching man, keep balance. They go a little slower, negotiate one more slip and scramble with a clatter of frantic hooves, then come to more level ground. The horse gives a little snorting whinny. The man rides on, without even a glance back to see how the others fare. The older gentleman has stopped. He glances round at the pair behind him. The man there makes a little anti-clockwise circle with a finger and points to the ground: dismount and lead. The man in the scarlet coat at the rear, wise from his own recent upward passage, has already got down, and is tying the pack horse to an exposed root by the trackside. The older gentleman dismounts. Then his counsellor behind jumps off, with a singular dexterity, kicking free of his right stirrup and swinging his leg, over the horse's back and slipping to the ground all in one lithe movement. He holds his arms out for the woman, who leans and half sinks towards him, to be caught, then swung free and set down. The elderly man goes gingerly down the ravine, leading his pad, then the bareheaded man in the jerkin, and his horse. The woman walks behind, her skirts held slightly off the ground so that she can see her feet and where they are placed; then the last man, he in the faded scarlet coat. Once down, he extends the rein of his riding-horse to the man in the jerkin to hold, then turns and climbs heavily back for the pack-horse. The older gentleman laboriously mounts again, and rides on. The woman raises her hands and pushes back the hood of her cloak, then loosens the white linen band she has swathed round the lower part of her face. She is young, hardly more than a girl, pale-faced, with dark hair bound severely back beneath a flat-crowned chip, or willow-shaving, hat. Its side-brims are tied down against

Page 3

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

her cheeks, almost into a bonnet, by the blue kissing-ribbons beneath her chin. Such a chip or wheat-straw hat is worn by every humbler English country-woman. A little fringe of white also appears beneath the bottom of her cloak: an apron. She is evidently a servant, a maid. Unfastening the top of her cloak, and likewise undoing the kissing-ribbons, she goes beside the track a little ahead and stoops where some sweet-violets are still in flower on a bank. Her companion stares at her crouched back, the small movements of her hands, the left one picking, ruffling the heart-shaped green leaves to reveal the hidden flowers, the right one holding the small sprig of deep mauve heads she has found. He stares as if he does not comprehend why she should do this. He has a strangely inscrutable face, which does not reveal whether its expressionlessness is that of an illiterate stupidity, an ignorant acceptance of destiny not far removed from that of the two horses he is holding; or whether it hides something deeper, some resentment of grace, some twisted sectarian suspicion of personable young women who waste time picking flowers. Yet it is also a strikingly regular, well-proportioned face, which, together with his evident agility, an innate athleticism and strength, adds an incongruous touch of the classical, of an Apollo, to one of plainly low-born origins - and certainly not Greek ones, for his strangest features are his eyes, that are of a vacant blue, almost as if he were blind, though it is clear he is not. They add greatly to the impression of inscrutability, for they betray no sign . of emotion, seem always to stare, to suggest their owner is somewhere else. So might twin camera lenses see, not normal human eyes. Now the girl straightens and comes back towards him, smelling her minuscule posy; then gravely holds the purple flowers, with their little flecks of orange and silver, out and up for him to smell as well. Their eyes meet for a moment. Hers are of a more usual colour, a tawny brown, faintly challenging and mischievous, though she does not smile. She pushes the posy an inch or two nearer still. He briefly sniffs; nods, then as if they waste time, turns and mounts with the same agile grace and sense of balance that he showed before, still holding the other horse's rein. The girl watches him a moment more while he sits above, tightening the loosened linen muffler, pulling it to cover her mouth once more. She tucks her violets carefully inside the rim of white cloth, just below her nostrils. The man in the military coat comes with the pack-horse - he has stopped above to piss beside it and takes his own horse from the man in the jerkin, and reties the leading-line. The girl stands waiting beside the pillion horse's withers; and now, in a seemingly familiar ritual, the military man comes round, faces her, then bends and enlaces his fingers to make a mounting stirrup. She sets her left foot in his hands, springs and is lightly lifted up to her blanketed seat before the impassive man in the jerkin. She looks down, the bunch of violets like an absurd moustache beneath her nose. The man in the scarlet coat drily tips his forefinger to his hat and winks. She looks away. Her companion, who has observed this, abruptly kicks the pillion horse's sides. It breaks into an immediate clumsy trot. He reins the beast sharply back, and she has to catch against him. Fists on hips, the man in the military coat watches them go for a moment or two, soon to settle to a walk, then mounts and follows. A faint sound comes to his ears, as they wind down through the woodland. The young woman is singing, or rather humming a tune to herself. It is that of the melancholy old folk-air, _Daphne,__ already ancient in this time; yet it seems, this intrusion of a human voice in the previous silence, less melancholy than vaguely impudent. The man at the rear rides closer, to hear the voice better. The sound of hooves, an occasional creak of leather, a tiny jingle of harness metal; tumbling water below, and the sound of a misselthrush also singing, from far across the valley, barely audible, as fragmented as the muffled girl's voice. Through the bare branches ahead, there is a gleam of luminous gold, where the sinking western sun has found a first direct interstice in the clouds. Now the sound of rushing water dominates. They ride for a little way close above a fast and furious

Page 4

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

moorland stream and greener vegetation: more violets, wood-sorrel, first ferns, nests of primroses, emerald young rushes and grass. They come to a small clearing where the track descends to stream-level,, then bends into the water, smoother here, at a ford. On the other side, facing them, wait the two gentlemen on their horses; and it is evident now, as masters wait for laggard servants. The elder, behind, takes snuff. The girl stops her singing. The three horses splash across, beside a line of stepping-stones, blundering their way among the small rocks beneath the swift-running water. The younger gentleman stares at the girl, at her floral moustache, as if she is in some way to blame for this delay. She does not look at him, but nestles close against her companion, whose arms surround her to keep her balanced. Only when all three horses and their burdens are safely across does the younger gentleman turn his horse and proceed, in the same order as before, and the same silence.

Some few minutes later this sombre cavalcade of five came out of the trees and once more upon an open prospect, for here the valley bottom broadened considerably. The track ran slightly downhill across a long open meadow. In those days a single animal dominated the agricultural economy of the West of England: the sheep - and the needs of its pasturing. The huge hundred-acre sheep-run was a much more frequent feature of cultivated landscapes than today's densely hedged and enclosed patchwork of small fields. In the distance could be seen the small town whose church tower they had made out from the moorland above. Three or four flocks studded the long meadow before them; and as many shepherds, monolithic figures in cloaks of brown frieze, like primitive bishops with their crooks. One had two children beside him. Their sheep, Exmoor Horns, were smaller and scraggier than modern sheep, and tight-coated. To the travellers' left, where the hillside came down to the valley bottom, was a massive stone pen, and yet another further along. The younger gentleman reined in slightly and let the older come beside him; and from then on they rode abreast, though still without talking. The two shepherd children ran across the closecropped turf to the side of the open track, ahead of the party, and waited once they were there, with strangely intent eyes, watching beings from fable, not reality, approach; and as if they imagined themselves not seen in return. They made no greeting, this small upstaring boy and his sister, both barefoot; and received none. The younger gentleman ignored them completely, the elder gave them no more than a casual glance. The manservant on the doubly laden horse similarly ignored them, while the man in the scarlet coat seemed to find himself, even before such a minute audience as this, put upon dignity. He rode a little more erect, staring ahead, like a would-be cavalry trooper. Only the young woman smiled, with her eyes, down at the small girl. For three hundred yards the two children alternately walked and trotted beside the travellers; but then the boy ran ahead, for a first banked hedge and a gate now barred the road. He heaved it off its latch, then pushed it wide back and open; and stood there, staring at the ground, with a hand outstretched. The older gentleman felt in his greatcoat pocket, and tossed a farthing down. The boy and his sister both scrambled for it as it rolled on the ground, but the boy had it first. Now once more they both stood, with outstretched small arms, the palms upwards, heads bowed, as the rear of the cavalcade passed. The young woman raised her left hand and took a pinch of her spray of violets, then threw them at the small girl. They fell across the child's arm, over her bent crown of no doubt lice-ridden hair, then to the ground: where the child stared at them, the arm dropped, nonplussed by this useless, incomprehensible gift. A quarter of an hour later the five came to the outskirts of the small town of C-. It was town more by virtue of being a few hundred inhabitants larger than any surrounding village in this thinly populated area

Page 5

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

than in any modern sense of the term; town also by virtue of an ancient charter, granted in palmier or more hopeful days four hundred years before; and which still absurdly permitted its somnolent mayor and tiny corporation to elect two members to parliament. It boasted also a few tradesmen and craftsmen, a weekly market, an inn beside its two or three ale- and ciderhouses, and even an ancient grammar-school, if one can call school one aged master, also parish clerk, and seven boys; but in all else it was a village. Nothing, indeed, could have misled more than the majestic high-pinnacled and battlemented tower of its medieval church; it now dominated and surveyed a much less prosperous and confident place than the one that had built it nearly three centuries earlier, and stood far more relic than representative. No gentry lived permanently there, though a manor house existed. The place was too remote, and like all remote Britain then, without turnpike or decent carriage-road. Above all it was without attraction to an age whose notion of natural beauty - in those few capable of forming such notions - was strictly confined to the French or Italianate formal garden at home and the denuded but ordered (through art) classical landscapes of southern Europe abroad. To the educated English traveller then there was nothing romantic or picturesque at all in domestic wild landscapes, and less than nothing in the cramped vernacular buildings of such townlets as C-. All this was so much desert, beneath the consideration of anyone who pretended to taste. The period had no sympathy with unregulated or primordial nature. It was aggressive wilderness, an ugly and all-invasive reminder of the Fall, of man's eternal exile from the Garden of Eden; and particularly aggressive, to a nation of profit-haunted puritans, on the threshold of an age of commerce, in its flagrant uselessness. The time had equally no sense (except among a few bookworms and scholars) of the antique outside the context of Greece and Rome; even its natural sciences, such as botany, though by now long founded, remained essentially hostile to wild nature, seeing it only as something to be tamed, classified, utilized, exploited. The narrow streets and alleys, the Tudor houses and crammed cottage closes of such towns conveyed nothing but an antediluvian barbarism, such as we can experience today only in some primitive foreign land ... in an African village, perhaps, or an Arab souk. A twentieth-century mind, could it have journeyed back and taken on the sensibilities and eyes of those two better-class travellers riding that day into the town, must have felt itself landed, or becalmed, in some strange doldrum of time, place and spirit; in one of those periods when Clio seems to stop and scratch her tousled head, and wonder where the devil to go next from here. This particular last _day__ of April falls in a year very nearly equidistant from 1689, the culmination of the English Revolution, and 1789, the start of the French; in a sort of dozing solstitial standstill, a stasis of the kind predicted by those today who see all evolution as a punctuated equilibrium, between those two zenith dates and all they stand for; at a time of reaction from the intemperate extremisms of the previous century, yet already hatching the seeds (perhaps even in that farthing and careless strew of fallen violets) of the world-changing upheaval to come. Certainly England as a whole was indulging in its favourite and sempiternal national hobby: retreating deep within itself, and united only in a constipated hatred of change of any kind. Yet like so many seemingly inert troughs in history, it was not altogether a bad time for the six million or so there then were of the English, however humble. The two begging children by the road might wear ragged and patched clothes; but at least they were visibly neither starved nor starving. There were higher real wages than for centuries past - and for very nearly two centuries to come. Indeed it was only just becoming anything but a distinctly prosperous time for this county of Devon. Its ports, its ships, its towns and villages lived, and largely thrived, as they had for the last half-millennium, on one great staple: wool. In the abrupt course of the next seventy years this trade was to be first slowly throttled, then finally annihilated by a national change of taste, towards lighter fabrics, and the more enterprising North of England; but still at this time half Europe, even colonial America and imperial Russia, bought and made clothes from the Devonshire dozen, its famous length of serge and perpetuana.

Page 6

too. as the shepherd's children had. the very scent of raw wool.processtext. He had the sly grin of a yokel. then had a price on their head. or bullfinches. which left no room to pass. and virtually none at all from the local gentry. industry still lay inside the cottage.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. but walked backwards. carding and combing the raw fleece-wool. up towards the rider. in the neighbouring counties of Somerset and Dorset. half village idiot. when nearly half of those who had flocked to join the Monmouth Rebellion had come from the cloth trade. The riders were forced to go at an even slower pace by a lumbering ox-cart. each pierced through the neck. maister? Penny a'oop. still thrusting the little ring of dead birds. the endless treadling.html There was evidence of the cloth trade in nearly every thatched doorway and open cottage shutter of C . children spinning. crimson and brown breasts and coal-black heads. maister?' The man in the scarlet coat rode on a pace or two in silence. but of an inherent resentment of those who lived in a world not ruled by cloth. in outwork. penny a'oop!' He was waved aside. and the doorway spinners. paid against their bodies by parish vestries. The mechanical jenny was still several decades in the future and the bottleneck in the ancient hand process always lay with the production of the yarn. 'Buy 'un. It would be wrong to speak yet of a trade-union mindedness. here was evidence. our travellers found nothing picturesque or of interest. but the spinning predominated. There was also the beginning of a political and a class feeling about this. women spinning. in an inverse way. or blindness. It has been proved fifty years earlier. 'Where be's 'ee to then. their hands so accustomed that eyes and tongues were entirely free. and a sternness and gravity in their demeanour forbade greeting or enquiry. men spinning. Hoops. for which the great or attracted to their windows and thresholds by the horses' hooves. Here and there in a dark interior might be glimpsed or heard looms. betrayed a similar sense of alienation by staring. and threw an answer back over his shoulder. half joker. at these strangers as if they were indeed foreigners. The young woman passenger did from time to time glance shily sideways. then engaged in cleaning. 'The fleas in thy poxy inn. finishing and market centres like Tiverton and Exeter and their rich clothiers had an insatiable greed. He gave stare for stare. Only the man in the faded scarlet coat at the rear seemed like a normal traveller. distaffs. Then a young man in a smock darted forward from the niche of a cob buttress supporting a leaning cottage wall and brandished an osier ring of dead birds up at the military-looking man. blurred wheels. In all this.' 'What business?' Page 7 . in the domestic system. Throughout the country. was returned. and not to be trusted. or if not doing that. This contempt. and even tipped his hat to two girls in a doorway. if now chowring comment. but something bizarre in her muffled appearance puzzled the spectators. the townspeople about in the street. or even of the mob spirit by then recognized and feared in larger cities. http://www. The two gentlemen studiously avoided the watching eyes. most of the rest had come from the agricultural community.

the central totem for the next day's celebrations. To the travellers this last was a familiar sight. Was it not a blasphemous cock that crowed thrice. the children as quickly dropped their games. an open-sided shed. the younger gentleman's behind him. 'All is ready?' Page 8 . when they approached the inn. those primitive forms of tag and baseball. The clattering and clopping procession now headed up across the slightly sloping square. The maypole was also forsaken for this more interesting entertainment. at a ramshackle stone building with a crudely painted black stag on a wall-board above its porch and an archway to a stableyard beside it. stood all with short knob-ended sticks of heavy holly and hawthorn in their hands. An older group of lads. The cockthrowers had already turned away from their rehearsal. the potboy. http://www. Eighteenth-century man was truly Christian in his cruelty to animals. at them.html Again the rider waited to answer. who pointed across to the northern side of the square. an apothecary and barber-surgeon's. A florid-faced man with a paunch came out under the porch. The younger gentleman looked back to the man in the scarlet coat. suffusing the canopy still above with pink and amethyst tints. made of massive oak timbers and with a steep-pitched and stone-tiled roof. rejoicing each time the apostle Peter denied? What could be more virtuous than bludgeoning its descendants to death? The two gentlemen reined in. the sky had now cleared extensively in the west. but in Devon it was so popular.processtext. the latter being the nearest the place had to a doctor. and took turns to throw at a bizarre and ragged shape of stuffed red cloth. which had already gathered a small train on its way to the square. but a mere tansy pudding). Rose streaks of vapour floated in a honeycoloured light. 'None o' thine. ancient and universal English sport to be played on the morrow: that of cocksquailing. some men among them. as cockfighting was among the gentry.' The elder gentleman answered. Closer. no more than practice for the noble. Somewhat finer and taller buildings surrounded this square and its central building. and this time did not turn his head. as if he must take precedence. He took the older gentleman's horse as he slid stiffly to the ground. and blood on the setts. paved with small dark setts sunk on edge. Puddicombe. The landlord bowed.' The ox-cart now turned into a smith's yard. the ostler. as if somewhat taken aback by this unexpected open stage and animated crowd. Though the sun had set. Its traditional main season was Shrovetide. Some seventy or eighty faces were waiting. A very few hours would see a series of terrified living birds tied in place of the stuffed red puppet. Us trust you be came an easy journey. was not the milliondollar contract. groups of children noisily played lamp-loo and tutball. a saddler's. and the cavalcade could go more quickly. There was a clothier's shop. for the most beside the roof-supporting outer columns of the market house. a cordwainer's. set at the foot of the market-house wall. that it was celebrated at other festivals. a grocer's.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. 'Welcome. or slaughtering cocks by throwing the weighted squailers. or market. sirs. Modern lovers of the second game would have been shocked to see that here it was preponderantly played by the girls (and perhaps also to know that its traditional prize. vaguely birdlike. a serving-girl and a potboy behind him. At the far end of the square beyond the market house stood a knot of people. around a long wooden pole lying on its side. in process of being dressed with streamers. or sticks. but just before they came to dismount. In a hundred yards or so they came to a more open square. then a man with a bustling limp from the yard. the younger gentleman politely gestured the elder forward. at your service.

did not his clothes deny it. in the poor light.' The landlord backed. But unmistakably it suggests will.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. even faintly testy. A four-poster bed. There is another table and chair by the window. and an indifference to all that is not that will. although it is seemingly to the not untinged with impatience. and at least the old half-panelling and uncarpeted yet polished broadplanks are warm. except for a framed engraving. Its present meditative expression is in marked contrast to that of the corpulent uncle. with a ewer and bowl on a stand beside it. His uncle has remained more formally dressed. and offered entrance. of baldness.' 'Then show to our chambers. The windows are hidden by folding shutters. His riding-coat and long suit-coat. and indeed looks like nothing so much as a modem skinhead. authority. He stares down at it for a few moments in silence. like the journey. at first sight a man of more imposing mien:: jowly. stands with its head against a side wall opposite the fire. hang from hooks by the door. and his face shows. We are much fatigued. and still wears his hat and much fuller wig. revealing that he is shaven-headed to the apparent point. whose stance in front of the fire. when suddenly the younger man speaks. its curtains drawn. Ranged by the door lie the leather trunk. not an unhandsome face. The fire and its shifting lights and shadows somewhat hide the room's bareness. Queen Anne.html 'As your man bespoke. three more in a pewter branch on the table. drawings or pictures. then the ring of onlookers. It is. Candles have been lit on a wall-sconce by the door. of his position in life. now latched across. incipiently choleric. there are no hangings. heavy-browed. has lacked conversation. even certain. His senior eyed him. but something broods in it. the top-boots and sword stand below. His quick glance up. lid flung open on clothes. and spoke with a firm. To the letter. leaving his nephew to follow. a long seventeenth-century benchstool guards the foot of the bed. and the faintly acrid smell of its smoke pervades the trembling shadows in the large old room. not what it means today) over his long waistcoat and breeches. sir.' With that he passed into the inn. despite his comparative youth. His look reveals a certain wryness. http://www. Enough of being the cynosure of nowhere. on the wall above the fire. The nephew fills his glass from a blue-and-white china decanter of madeira. as he stares at the fire. doctorial. a blend of fastidiousness and intransigence. The two men bear little physical resemblance. Io the best upstairs chamber. indeed he looks like a man confident. and the fashionably brief campaign wig. 'Come. He has unbuckled his neck-stock and put on a damask night-gown (at that period a loose informal coat. and the brassbound wooden chest. then rises and goes to the fire. and a small tarnished mirror by the wall-sconce. The nephew is slightly built. Two ancient and worm-eaten wooden-armed chairs with leather-padded seats face each other on either side of the hearth. with its aquiline nose and fine mouth. whose knot-ends lie against his coat. There is no other furniture. But he ends by looking down at his plate. of the last but one monarch.processtext. to which they had headed direct. It certainly does not suggest any lack of breeding or urbanity. watching the other three horses and their riders into the yard. An ash-log fire burns in a wide open hearth not far away. the uncle and nephew have just finished their supper. He has also taken his wig off. Yet for all that he seems distinctly less at ease than his companion. he now contemplates. and of his general philosophy. But the younger gentleman waited a moment or two. the downbent face. suggests that the meal. Page 9 . nephew.

' The younger man stares back at the fire. in the western sky.. sir. 'We might all say 'I trust I may at least hope to meet you in more auspicious circumstances. For one to whom speech must be the bread of life . 'But our craft conforms us.' The older man looks down with a slight rise of his eyebrows and a tilted nod of reluctant acquiescence. Lacy.' They do not speak like nephew and uncle.processtext. almost as if he expects to see someone waiting below in the market-place. like a chess-player forced to acknowledge he has met his master. and stars. Then we must part.. I fear I have been poor company. There is still a very barely perceptible luminescence. The older man produces a snuffbox. In one or two of the surrounding houses windows shine faintly with candlelight.' 'I can't deny you there. with a faint smile. He recloses the shutter and turns to face the man at the table. You have played it well.' 'Even so. and closes his snuffbox.' Page 10 . sir. 'Speech has brought me rotten cabbages before now. http://www.' The older man bows. 'I might have played it better still had I. though with a perceptibly mock exaggeration.' The actor smiles down. But it is empty now and dark. Without we are disarmed of half our powers. 'No more than the cabbages themselves.' 'I am grateful. and slides a sly look under his eyebrows at his interlocutor. might we not? _In comoedia vitae. The younger man walks slowly to the window and idly unlatches the shutters. He looks out. We like to have our morrows fixed. 'We may ride the same road for an hour tomorrow.' but he breaks off. sir. a last breath of the gone day. and folds a creaking half-panel back.. Most assuredly no such part as this.' He takes a lace handkerchief out and dabs at his nose.' 'I have not remarked it.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. on occasion. and opens his hands. some nearly overhead. sir. Mr Bartholomew. And fair fee.'__ 'True.' He takes snuff.. And my _vacua. And far worse rewards than yours. announce that the sky continues to clear eastwards. 'Had you had more confidence in the author?' 'In his final design. With respect.' The man by the fire looks back then. Therein cloth lie our art.'__ 'I had fair warning. 'I'll wager never such a part as this.html 'I thank you for bearing with me.

a directness in his look. Lacy?' 'The comparison is better made between ourselves. 'Very well. http://www.I mean not those of Heaven. But may you not try again . a hundred.. of civil true lovers must? The old adage warns us so. astrology. But now further suppose that this prophet reveals that the predestinate future of this world is full of fire and plague. Then told you of the world to come. with all respect.processtext. 'My dear sir.would you run crying it in the streets or keep silent?' 'I should first doubt my own mind. Such notions are but a poet's contrivance. as you tell me you failed before. Suppose one came to you. At this happy juncture -did you yourself not mock at superstition but a day or two ago? You speak as if fortune is your foe. to achieve his effect. mathematick science. 'Allow me to put a strange fancy to you.' 'But if that doubt were removed by some irrefutable proof? 'Then I should warn my fellow-men. what shall happen tomorrow. You spake just now of fixed morrows. you may fail this time in your venture.' The actor gives him a prolonged look. to you alone.' Again the younger man is slow to reply. 'Say it were a history that has neither Romeo nor Juliet. 'Come.' He pauses. But another end.. and said that he had pierced the secrets of the world to come . but had truly discovered what he pretended by some secret study. Now .' He looks up.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.html 'If fortune wishes it. sir. or never more. next year. but of this world we live in. Lacy. But you may throw again.' 'May one cross the Rubicon twice?' 'But the young lady -' 'This time . All. bound upon destiny's wheel.' Lacy is silent a moment. it is I who am thrown into darkest night. shall happen this day month.' 'One throw of the dice. you take too tragical a view of matters. what you will. and once more stares at the fire a long moment. When you speak thus. of endless calamity.' 'Very well.' The young man goes back to his chair and sits. as in a history. What then? Is the case the same?' Page 11 .com/abclit. perhaps. as dark as the darkest night.' 'Hazard is no superstition. but gets no answer. 'What then. Who could persuade you he was no fairbooth charlatan. There is a sudden force. So that they might consider to avoid what might harm them. You are no Romeo in a history. a thousand years from now.

he might not know how you in person should die.html 'I cannot conceive your case. Let us grant he shall find proof to convince you. It is but conjecture. even if his prophetick science foretold the very opposite. his hands behind his back. I can allow that.nay. as if he regrets having opened the subject at all..Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.' 'This.' 'Bear with me.' Then he falls silent. wheresoe'er you flee or shelter? You are none the better off. Lacy. How it should be proven. It is highly favourable.. One learns in my profession to read men by their physiognomies. If it be in the stars that my house shall be struck by a thunderbolt tomorrow. if such a man. I mean no blasphemy. and in his turn slowly goes to the window. his eyes still lost in the fire. so that you had time to reflect and conquer natural curiosity – would you not most wisely refuse to hear a single word from him?? 'Perhaps. It is clear that this does not satisfy the actor. for now he rises. I would ask this. Mr Bartholomew. I grant you I may not avert that. your own life?' 'I cannot answer that. that this corrupt and cruel world should one day live in eternal peace and plenty . Behind the subterfuges we are presently reduced to. Would you not. who would any longer trouble to stir himself to virtue or merit?' 'I take your general argument. it is not for us to trespass upon the privilege of our Creator alone. sir. and there is a tinge of dryness in his voice.' The younger man does not turn.' 'And would not he. I trust you know me well enough by now to permit me to say that I should never have entered upon this enterprise were I not persuaded that you had justice upon your side. 'I must speak frankly.and mark you. no more than that one day it must fall on most. since we part tomorrow. then suddenly clasps his hands more firmly. I believe you an honest and honourable gentleman.processtext. By their looks. sir. advised you of his purpose in coming. Suppose you were he that can read this most awful decree upon what shall come. their gait. Mr Bartholomew. Is it not best that you should accept to be its only victim? Might not a most condign divine anger at such blasphemous breaking of the seals of time be assuaged at the price of your silence . their cast of countenance.would not he still most wisely keep his secret to himself? If all were one day assured of paradise. http://www. bows his head a little in acquiescence. if he were Christian and kind .' 'But suppose the bolt will strike you. You should as well have stayed at home. 'I but put a case. before coming to you. But not why you should speak so in present circumstance.' 'You are too deep for me. He stands there a moment before the shutters. sir. I have ventured to form an opinion of you. and turns and addresses the back of the bald head that sits silhouetted between him and the fire. You touch upon matters . I can surely remove from my house in the expectation. 'But?' Page 12 . or when such and such an evil fall on any one of mankind. Besides. Yet if it be also in the stars that I may be told as much.' The younger man.

something other than what you have led me to believe is afoot?' The younger man looks back down to the fire. so abrupt is the movement. You know I am a disobedient son. If such be sins.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir.' The man by the fire looks down. With your pardon. then up again at the actor. you know I have not told you all. His compliments. then takes the hand. sir. 'I would have you believe that. 'I have deceived you in much. Nor ride so many miles to do what may be done far closer London. it seems almost with relief. Yet it is he who speaks impatiently to the landlord.' 'And who may Mr Beckford be?' 'Our parson. whatever lies ahead. I beg you to believe that it is to spare you much. Yet he merely turns towards the actor with another of his direct looks. The landlord Puddicombe appears. also. but looks back at the actor standing by the chair.' The actor hesitates. Should it come to that. 'Upon my honour. Page 13 . 'An affair of honour?' Mr Bartholomew smiles faintly. for hiding some circumstances in this our present business. No one shall ever find in you any but an innocent instrument. if that were the case. There is the sound of a footstep outside the door.' He comes forward and reaches out a hand. sir. You have not misjudged me there. but he shows no sign of expectation fulfilled. http://www. Lacy.' The actor throws a sharp look at the man by the fire. 'I should not be here without a friend. 'None the less. I confess to 'em.processtext. in vain. and addresses the supposed uncle. there be a gentleman below. You may speak of fancies.' He drops the hand and turns away to the fire again. that I could not forgive. 'Mr Brown. You have my word that what I do breaks no law of this land. 'I seek a meeting with someone.' 'But not of the kind you have given me to suppose?' Mr Bartholomew is silent.' The older man's eyes are but what am I to make -' Suddenly the younger man stands. Lacy. sir. The younger man calls. ‘Who?’ 'Mr Beckford. That much is true. 'I give you my word. To use such necessity to deceive me as to the very business itself. And I pray you to remember this. I apprehend there is necessity and good sense in that. The younger man fixes him with his eyes.' The actor opens his mouth to speak. then a knock. it seems almost in a rage.html 'I can forgive you. sir. I won't conceal it.

he goes to the door.' He withdraws. half on her stomach. In a few moments there is a knock on the door. and curtseys awkwardly towards the oblivious figure in the armchair. whose faint light barely reaches the far and inner end of the room where the girl lies. It seems to contain nothing but books and loose manuscript For a few moments the man by the fire stares at the floor. Leaving with the dishes on the tray. he fetches the candle-branch from the supper table and sets it there in preparation. carrying another lit branch on a tray. a garret beneath the roof. spread over her as blanket on a narrow truckle-bed. 'Very well.processtext. Let me not prevent you. touches his hat and straightens his coat. Mr Bartholomew does not look at her. takes his cue. feeling in the pocket of his knee-length waistcoat for a key. he goes and crouches and unlocks the brassbound chest by the door. sir. she turns at the door. as if he lived not two hundred and fifty years ago. uncle. sir. absorbed in his reading. I am tired. since even in those days inn maids were not hired for their plain looks. or perhaps secretly piqued by such indifference. when all that is menial and irksome will be done by automata.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. At once. In a much humbler room above. http://www. 'And kindly ask our worthy landlord to send up more of his wretched tallow. perhaps because reading belongs to the Devil. then turns to clear the supper things. Your honours. Then he goes and carries the small table near the window to beside the chair he was sitting in. by the one small gable-window. the young woman lies seemingly asleep beneath her brown ridingcloak.html 'Forgive me. One last throwing of dust. but five centuries ahead.' The actor silently bows again.' The actor feels for his neck-stock. sits a single candle on a table.' The actor smoothly. and a crooked arm on the coarse pillow. she silently goes. and awed. An inn maid comes in. which she does. My nephew craves his indulgence. and leaves the room. I would read. He does not look up. At the end of the unceiled room. The younger man makes a small grimace. 'Tell the reverend gentleman I shall be pleased to wait on him downstairs. She is gestured to put it on the table beside him. on which she has spread the linen band that Page 14 . His hand is already on it when the younger man speaks one last time.' With a slight bow. my friend.' 'I cannot leave our conversation here.' 'Be rid of him as soon as you civilly can.' 'Very good. Next. He rummages a little and finds a particular sheaf. takes it to his chair and begins to read. if belatedly. her legs bent up beneath the cloak. 'Gird yourself.

to fall behind the wearer's ears. Once more she touches his hand. his face in shadow. unbestially questioning why it should be so. with its slightly snub nose and closed eyelashes. begins untying the apron. a handmirror. He goes past her and puts down the jug by the candle. Below she wears a full white apron. Male servants. relatches it. still searching her eyes. his back to her.processtext. but that done. Such caps. but she stands back and points to the end of the narrow room. an ochre-glazed earthenware bowl in the other. Now she looks down and lifts one of his hands. as indeed were aprons on occasion. as also just below her elbows. but this time only to press it briefly. but th_ey__ were then worn by all female fashionable society.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. She shakes her head. investigating and sniffing. of scraps of parchment bound with string. were allowed considerable licence at this date. only to find he was wasting fine manners on a mere female domestic. though nothing else of his body moves. mute and tormented. The young woman has turned to pick up her large bundle. She wears a dark green gown. in a strange immobility and silence. For a moment she does nothing. to the two foot-long white lappetbands. It seems strangely ethereal. and tried to prevent. and turns to look at him. turns and looks back at the man. a brush. a comb. as at least one contemporary male disapprovingly noted. but with its edges folded back. A mouse rustles as it runs here and there below the table. the slaves of livery. The feet stop at her door. were in history to become a mark of the house-maid and waitress. there is a momentary pause. There are some small and corked blue glass bottles also. and wrapped in them another bundle. picks out one of the little pots. to a narrow waist. her eyes open. There is something childlike in her pose and in her face. yet there is something both haggard and resentful in his stance. at which his vacant blue eyes look away from her brown ones. then two thumps. an embroidered cotton scarf. a beast at bay. as its bottom-board is kicked.html she used as a muffler. and gives her upper body the unnatural and breastless shape of an inverted cone. then the bowl. The man moves back down the room. were easily known. But the owner of this delicate and ambiguous little cap is not truly asleep.ribbons. that holds an array of minute earthenware gallipots. without the lappets. whose eyes have followed her. His face remains impassive. She slips her stockinged feet into a pair of worn mules and goes and opens the door. Then. he stands once more frozen. rather like those on modern jamjars. Many a gentleman entering a strange drawing-room had the mortification of bowing politely to what he supposed a lady intimate of his hostess. She goes back herself to the table. Suddenly she becomes aware of the man's stillness. she returns to the bed and delving for a moment in the opened bundle. touches and pats it with her other hand. to reveal a yellow lining. With these she turns back to the table and stands there silent a moment. At the sound of steps on stairs outside. even faintly absurd and impertinent in that rough room. whose lids are formed. past her head. seems to examine it. yet not without a hint of firmness. a small bottle and a square of worn linen. mistresses and maids alike. She throws aside the cloak and stands from the bed. a large brass jug of warm water in one hand. as two people waiting for something to happen. as if she has forgotten. evidently a makeshift towel. takes his arm and urges him round.gently. The manservant she has ridden with stands there. at the far wall. He is hardly visible in the darkness. http://www. Then she goes towards him. Her look is steady. It reveals an assembly of clothes. unfastening the cover of the pot in the Page 15 . its fronts and sides goffered into little flutes. his head hanging. to the ground. On the back of a chair beside the bed sits perched above the discarded chip hat something apparently precious and taken from the opened bundle on the floor: a flat white cambric hat. The sight of her seems to freeze him. as one might to a pet dog . fastened between her breasts. Her left hand still holds the limp last of her violets. They stand so for half a minute or more. The dress is stayed. then lay it on the bed. but female ones. Finally she lets his hand fall and walking back to the door. with hanging from the sides. Now she points to the floor beside where she stands.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

candle-light. She begins to undress. First the apron is removed, and hung on one of a row of primitive wooden pegs beside the window. Next the yellow-lined green gown, which reveals a quilted calamanco petticoat (a skirt in modern terms, the lower part of the dress opens upon it). It is of a plum colour, and strangely glazed, for satin is woven in its worsted cloth. She unties that at the waist, and hangs it on another hook; then her stomacher. Beneath there remains only a smicket, or small white under-bodice, that one might have expected left on for modesty's sake. Yet that too is pulled over her close-drawn hair and hung beside the rest. She is naked now, above her swanskin and linen under-petticoats. She does all this quickly and naturally, as if she is alone. The effect on the watching man is peculiar, since from the moment she has begun undressing, his feet have been cautiously shifting; but not towards her. He edges thus back against the inner wall of the room; only its beams and plaster can prevent him from retreating further still. Now she pours water and washes, having extracted a small wash-ball of gilliflower soap from the glass pot: her face and neck, the front of her body and her arms. Her movements make the candle-light in front of her tremble a little; occasionally some small twist of her body or arms causes a gleaming reflection on the wet skin, or shows a soft rim of its whiteness on the edge of the black-brown silhouette of her bare back. Among the rafters moves a sinister parody, in elongated and spiderlike shadows, of the simple domesticity of the ritual. It is sinister in both senses, for it is clear now she is left-handed by nature. Not once does she turn while this is going on, or while she is patting herself dry; and not once do the silent man's eyes move from her half-naked body. Now she takes the blue bottle and moistens a corner of her linen towel in the liquid it contains, which she dabs here and there about her bared body; at the sides of her neck, beside her armpits, and somewhere in front. A perfume of Hungary water creeps down the room. She reaches sideways for her smicket and puts it on again. And now she does turn, and brings the candle to the bed, beside the man. She sits. Another little china pot is taken - the ball of soap has been carefully dried and replaced in its own container - and set beside the candle. It contains ceruse, a white cream or unguent made of lead carbonate, a universal cosmetic of her age, more properly seen as a lethal poison. She takes some on a forefinger and rubs it on her cheeks, then all over her face with little circular movements. The neck receives similar treatment; the tops of the shoulders. She reaches next back to the bundle an takes the mirror and one of the minuscule blue bottles, stoppered with a cork. She examines her face for a moment. The light o this improvised dressing-table is too far away; picking up th candlestick, she turns towards the man, indicating where she wants it held, closer. He comes forward and takes it, and holds it slightly to one side, within a foot of the girl's face. She spreads the linen towel on he lap, carefully unlids the last small gallipot; it holds a carmine ointment. A minute amount of this she touches across her lips spreading the colouring first with her tongue, next, mirror in hand, with a fingertip; every so often she touches the fingertip against each cheekbone and rubs the colouring there as well, using it as a rouge as well as a lip-salve. At last, satisfied with the effect, she puts the mirror down and relids the gallipot. Having done that, she pushes the human candle-holder's wrist gently away and reaches for another blue bottle. That has a goose quill in its cork when it is opened. To apply its colourless liquid she tilts her head back and allows one drop to fall into each opened eye. Perhaps it stings, for she blinks rapidly on each occasion. That bottle is recorked; and only then does she look up at the man. The brilliance of her eyes, already dilating under the influence of the belladonna, the heightened colour of her mouth and cheeks - the carmine is not a natural red at all - make it clear that this is no maid,

Page 16

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

though the effect is far more doll-like than aphrodisiac. Only those tawny irises, in their enlarging pupils, remain of the simple young woman who dozed on the bed fifteen minutes before. The corner of her red lips curve just enough to hint at a smile; yet innocently, almost as if she is the staring man's sister, indulging some harmless foible in him. After a few moments she closes her eyes, without altering the upward angle of her face. Another might have assumed it was an invitation to kiss, but this man's only reaction is to move the candle a little closer; to one side, to the other. He seems to search every inch of that faintly waxlike facial skin, every curve, every feature, as if somewhere among them lies a minute lost object, a hidden symptom, an answer; and his face___ grows mysterious in its intensity of concentration, its absence of emotion. The impression is of a profound innonence, such as congenital idiots sometimes display; of in some way seeing her more sustainedly, more wholly than normal intelligence could. Yet there is nothing of the idiot about his own face. Beneath its regularity, even handsomeness - the mouth is particularly strong and well shaped - there lurks a kind of imperturbable gravity, an otherness. She bears this silent scrutiny for nearly a minute. His free hand rises, hesitates, gently touches her right temple. He traces the line of her face, down her cheek to the jawbone and chin, as if she is indeed not flesh, but wax, painted marble, a death-mask. The tracing continues, and she closes her eyes again: the forehead, the eyebrows, the eyelids, the nose, the mouth itself. Her lips do not move against the fingers that brush across them. Suddenly the man falls to his knees, putting the candle upon the floor at her feet; and sinks his face into her lap, almost as if he cannot stand further sight of what he has caressed, and yet is at its mercy. She does not flinch or seem surprised at this; but stares down for a long moment at the back of the head buried against her; then reaches her left hand and strokes the bound hair. She whispers, so softly it seems to be to herself, not to him. 'Oh my poor Dick. Poor Dick.' He does not answer, seems once again frozen. She continues slowly to stroke his hair and pat it for a minute or more, in the silence. At last she gently pushes him away, and stands, though only to turn to her opened bundle and from it to unroll an oyster-pink gown and petticoat, which she smoothes out flat, as if preparing to put them on. Still he kneels, with his head bowed, it might seem in some kind of submission or supplication. The candle on the floor lights something that suggests neither, and at which he stares down, as hypnotized by it as he has been by her face; and that both his hands clutch, as a drowning man a branch, though they do not move. The top of his breeches have been torn aside, and what he clutches is no branch, but a large, naked and erect penis. The young woman shows no shock or outrage when she realizes this obscenity, though her hands are arrested in their smoothing. She goes quietly to the top of her truckle-bed, where the violets still lie strewn on the rough pillow; gathers them up, and returns to where he kneels, to toss them, it seems casually, almost mockingly under the down-turned face and across the hands and the monstrous blood-filled glans. His face jerks up as in an agony at the painted one above, and they stare for a moment into each other's eyes. She steps round him and unlatches the door and stands holding it open, for poor Dick to leave; at which, clutching his opened breeches, he struggles clumsily to his feet and without looking at her, and still in obscene disarray, lurches through the open door. She steps into the doorway, it seems to give him light down the dark stairway to the landing below. Some draught threatens to extinguish the candle, and she draws back, shielding the guttering flame, like a figure from a Chardin painting, and closes the door with her back. She leans against it, and stares down at the pink brocaded clothes on the truckle-bed. There is no one to see she has tears in her eyes, besides the belladonna.

Page 17

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

Dick had been, during his absence upstairs, briefly a subject of conversation at the long table in the inn kitchen. Such kitchens were once semi-public and as much the centre of the inn's life, for the humbler traveller or the servants of grander ones, as the equivalent room in the old farmhouse. If not finer, the food eaten there - and no doubt the company - was certainly warmer than in the more public parlours or private chambers. The inn servants welcomed the gossip, news and entertainment brought by strangers of their own approximate class and kind. The undisputed king of the Black Hart's kitchen, that evening, and from the moment he had stamped through the door from the stableyard, cutlass and cased blunderbuss under one arm, and managed, in one comprehensive removal of his hat and sweep of his _eyes,__ to ogle kitchen maids, cook and Dorcas the inn maid, had been he of the scarlet coat, soon self-announced as Sergeant Farthing. He was, it equally soon seemed, of that ancient type- as ancient as the human race, or certainly as human war - the Roman comedians dubbed the _miles gloriosus;__ the military boaster, or eternal bag of bullshit. Even to be a modest soldier was no recommendation in eighteenth-century England. The monarchs and their ministers might argue the need for a standing army; to everyone else soldiers seemed an accursed nuisance (and insult, when they were foreign mercenaries), an intolerable expense both upon the nation and whatever particular and unfortunate place they were quartered in. Farthing appeared oblivious to this, and immoderately confident of his own credentials: how he was (despite his present dress) an ex-sergeant of marines, how as a drummer boy he had been on Byng's flagship during the glorious engagement of Cape Passaro in 't8, where the Spaniards were given such a drubbing; had been commended for his courage by Admiral Byng himself (not the one to be filled with Portsmouth lead in 1757 to encourage the others, but his father), though 'no bigger than that lad' ... the potboy. He had a way of fixing attention; and not letting it go, once it was fixed. There was certainly no one in that kitchen to challenge such a self-proclaimed man of war, and of the outer world. He had in addition a bold eye for his female listeners, since like all his kind he knew very well that half the trick of getting an audience into the palm of one's hand is flattering them. He also ate and drank copiously, and praised each drop and mouthful; perhaps the most truthful sentence he spoke was when he said he knew good cider when he tasted it. Of course he was questioned in return, as to the present journey. The younger gentleman and his uncle were riding, it seemed, to pay court to a lady who was respectively their aunt and their sister: a lady as rich as a supercargo, old and ailing besides, who lived at Bideford or thereabout; who had never married, but inherited lands and property fit for a duchess. Various winks and nose-taps glossed this already sufficiently explicit information: the young gentleman, it was hinted, had not always in the past been a model of assiduity, and lay even now in debt. The wench upstairs was a London lady's maid, destined for the aunt's service, while he, Timothy Farthing, had come as a service to the uncle, with whom he had been long acquainted and who was of nervous disposition as regards highwaymen, footpads and almost any other human face met more than a mile from St Paul's. Though he said it himself, they had travelled thus far under his vigilant eye as safe as with a company of foot. And this uncle? He was a man of means, a substantial merchant in the City of London, however with children of his own to provide for. His brother, the younger gentleman's father, had died improvidently some years before, and the uncle stood as his nephew's effective guardian and mentor. Only once had he broken off during all this discourse or quasi-monologue; and that was when Dick had come from the stables and stood, as if lost; uncomprehending, unsmiling, in the doorway. Farthing

Page 18

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

had bunched fingers to his mouth and pointed to an empty place on the far side of the table, then winked at Puddicombe, the landlord. 'Hears naught, says naught. Born deaf and mute, Master Thomas. And simple into the bargain. But a good fellow. My younger gentleman's servant, despite his clothes. Sit you down, Dick. Eat your share, we've met none so good as this on our way. Now where was I?' How as you came on the Spainer's tail,' ventured the potboy. Now and again, while the silent servant ate, Farthing did appeal to him. 'Isn't that so, Dick?' Or, 'Ecod, Dick could tell more if he had a tongue - or a mind to wield it.' It was not that these appeals were answered, indeed Dick seemed oblivious to them, even when his vacant blue eyes were on Farthing and he was being addressed; yet his companion seemingly wanted to show avuncularity among all his other virtues. The eyes of the maids, however, did wander the deaf-mute's way more and more frequently; perhaps it was curiosity, perhaps it was a kind of wistfulness, that so well-proportioned and fundamentally attractive a young male face, for all its expressionlessness and lack of humour, should belong to such a pitiful creature mentally. There had been one other interruption: the 'wench upstairs' had appeared in the inner doorway towards the end of the supper, bearing a tray with the remains of her own, and beckoned to the inn maid Dorcas, who rose to speak there with her. Some low words were exchanged between them, and Dorcas looked round at the deaf-mute. Farthing would have had the newcomer join them, but she declined, and pertly. 'I have heard all your bloodthirsty tales, I thank you.' The little curtsey she gave as she retreated was almost as much a snub as her words. The ex-sergeant touched up his right moustache and sought sympathy from the landlord. 'There's London for you, Master Thomas. I'll warrant you that girl was as pleasant and fresh of face as yon Dorcas a few years ago. Now the chit's all Frenchified airs, like her name, that I'll warrant she never was born with. She'd be all pale civility, nice as a nun's hen, as the saying goes.' He put on an affected voice. 'Would the man I love best were here, that I might treat him like a dog. So's her kind. I tell you, you'd have ten times more a better treating from her mistress than a maid like Louise. Louise, what name is that for an Englishwoman, I ask you, sir. Isn't it so, Dick?' Dick stared and said nothing. 'Poor Dick. He has her mincing manners up with him all day long. Don't you, lad?' He went through a pantomine, cocking his thumb towards the door through which the mincing manners had Just departed, then mimicking by means of forked fingers two people riding together. Finally he pushed up his nose and once more cocked his thumb at the door. The deaf-mute still stared blankly back at him. Farthing winked at the landlord. 'I' faith, I know blocks of wood with more wit.' However, a little later, when he saw Dorcas filling the brass jug from the copper in which it had heated, since that had evidently been the matter discussed with the girl upstairs, the deaf-mute stood and waited to take it; and again at the door, where the maid handed him an earthenware bowl from a dresser. He even nodded, in some token of thanks for her help; but she turned to Farthing as if in doubt. 'Doth 'er know where to take 'un, then?'

Page 19

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

'Aye. Let him be.' He closed an eye, and tapped it with a finger. 'Eyes like a falcon, has Dick. Why, he sees through walls.' 'Never.' 'He must, my love. Leastways I never met a man so fond of staring at 'em.' And he winked again, to make clear he was joking. Mr Puddicombe advanced the opinion that this was a strange case for a gentleman's servant - how could a master use one who understood so little? How command, and make him fetch? Farthing glanced towards the door and leant forward confidentially. 'I'll tell you this, Master Thomas. The master's a match for his man. I never met a gentleman spoke less. 'Tis his humour, his uncle warned me thus. So be it, I take no offence.' He pointed a finger at the landlord's face. 'But mark my words, he'll speak with Dick.' 'How so?' 'By ciphers, sir.' 'And what might they be?' Farthing leant back, then tapped his chest with a finger and raised a clenched fist. His audience stared, as blankly as the deaf-mute. The gestures were repeated, then glossed. 'Bring me ... punch.' Dorcas put her hand over her mouth. Farthing tapped his own shoulder, then raised one open hand and the forefinger of the other. Again he waited, then deciphered. 'Wake me, six of the clock prompt.' Now he extended a palm and put his other hand, clenched, upon it; touched himself; cupped his hands against his breasts; raised four fingers. The same fascinated faces waited for an explanation.. 'Wait - a play upon words, do you not take it, a weight in a balance - wait on me at the lady's house at four o'clock.' Mr Puddicombe nodded a shade uncertainly. 'I grasp it.' 'I could give you ten times more. A hundred times. Our Dick is not the fool he looks. I'll tell you something more, sir. Between ourselves.' Once again he looked to the door, and dropped his voice. 'This yesternight I must share a bed with him at Taunton, we could find no better place. I wake, I know not why, in the middle of the night. I find my bed-partner gone, slipped away as I slept. I think not too much on that, he must to the vaults, the more room for me, and would sleep again. Whereupon I hear a sound, Master Thomas, as of one talking in his sleep. No words, but a hum in the throat. So.' And he hummed as he had described, paused, then hummed again. 'I look. And there I see the fellow in his shirt, and on his knees, as it might be praying, by the window. But not as a Christian, to our Lord. Nay. To the moon, sir, that shone bright on where he was. And he stood, sir, and pressed to the glass, still making his

Page 20

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

sounds, as if he would fly up to where he gazed. And I thought, Tim, thou'st faced the Spanish cannon, thou'st given the ruff of the drum, thou'st seen death and desperate men more times than thou canst tell, but, rat or rot me, none like this. 'Twas clear as day he was in a lunatick fit, and might at any moment turn and spring and tear me limb from limb.' He paused, for effect, and surveyed the table. 'I tell you, my good people, no jest, I would not pass another hour like that for a hundred pound. Ecod, no, nor for a thousand.' 'Could you not seize him?' Farthing allowed a knowing smile to cross his features. 'I take it you were never at Bedlam, sir. Why, I've seen one there, a fellow you'd spit upon for a starving beggar in his quiet hours, throw off ten stout lads in his passions. Your lunatick's a tiger when the moon is on him, Master Thomas. 'Sdeath, he'll out-hector Hector himself, as the saying is. Finds the rage and strength of twenty. And mark, Dick's no weakling, even in his settled mind.' 'What did you then?' I lay as dead, sir, with this hand on the hilt of my blade beside my bed. A weaker spirit might have cried for help. But I give myself the credit of keeping my head, Master Thomas. I braved it out.' 'And what happened?' 'Why, the fit passed, sir. He comes once more to the bed, gets in. He starts snoring. But not I, oh no, 'fore George not I. Tim Farthing knows his duty. Ne'er a wink all night, my blade at the ready, sat in a chair where I could swash him down if the fit came on again or worse. I tell you no lie, my friends, had he but woke a second, he should have been carbonadoed in a trice, by Heaven he should. I reported all to Mr Brown next morning. And he said he would speak to his nephew. Who seemed not troubled, and said Dick was strange, but would do no harm, I was to take no account.' He leant back, and touched his moustache. 'I keep my own counsel on that, Master Thomas.' 'I should think so, verily.' 'And my blunderbush to hand.' His eyes sought Dorcas's face. 'No need to fright yourself, my dear. Farthing's on watch. He'll do no harm here.' The girl's eyes lifted involuntarily towards the ceiling. 'Nor up there, neither.' "Tis only three stairs.' Farthing leant back and folded his arms, then put his tongue in his cheek. 'By hap she finds him work to do?' The girl was puzzled. 'What work would that be then?' 'Work no man finds work, my innocent.' He leered, and the girl, at last understanding what he would say, raised a hand to her mouth. Farthing transferred his eyes to the master. 'I tell you, London's an evil place, Master Thomas. The maid but apes the mistress there. Ne'er rests content, the hussy, till she's decked out in her shameless sacks and trollopees. If my lady has her lusty lackey, why shouldn't I, says she. Spurn the poor brute by day, and have him to my bed each night.' Prithee no more, Mr Farthing. If my good wife were here... '

Page 21

I ventured to decline on your behalf. sir. My word to you stands. One by one all there covertly glanced at him.' They passed then to other matters.. it was as if a draught of cold air had entered the room. happily I passed and prevented the rogue. http://www. were the fellow not lecherous as a Barbary ape. I must speak now. As eager to raise their petticoats as he to unbreech.' 'But your purpose is not what you led me to believe.' 'You have had a poor last audience for your talents.html ‘Amen. as much as Page 22 . some outward sign of his sin. blankly awaiting some further humiliation. some ten minutes later. as the saying goes.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. or could blame you for your part. You are invited to dine tomorrow to hear the recitation over again. looked at no one. his lodgings. No more of it. Well you may. and barely that. sir. Is it not so? No. Enough's enough. My apologies. stared heavily at him.' The actor.' 'Do we say a poet lies when he speaks of meeting the Muses?' 'We know what he intends to convey by that figure. as if not to be fobbed off by this lighter mood. I should not speak of it. 'Well powdered. I have no doubt you mean well to me in all your concealings. The gentleman has only one profound object of interest in life. It does not comprehend the affairs of' 'I wonder his master don't give him a good flogging. his churchwardens. Let your maids be warned. regained his place. the deaf-mute re-appeared. anathema singular and plural. my dear Lacy. he thinks all women as lascivious as Eve. He knows no better.' 'And well you may.processtext. God forgive him. he stared down with his blue eyes at the old table just beyond his plate. Mr Bartholomew. A word to the wise.' 'But do we say he lies?' 'No. but when. as if searching for some flush. I go to meet one I desire to know.' Then in that sense I have not lied to you. He seemed as expressionless as ever. I trust?' 'His flock. But I must doubt whether you mean well to yourself. and respect. who stood planted on the opposite side of the fire from where Mr Bartholomew sat with his papers. 'Come. I have had damnation on them all. I do no evil. However.' 'And no inquiry?' 'Beyond civility. No one shall. his vestry. He came on one in the stable on our road here . I mean no evil..

processtext. and hath given birth to another.' 'My friend. more lacking still. 'But I will tell you. his back to the actor. All I told you of my supposed father I might have said of my true one . I am. you lose but your money..' He held out the sheet of paper he had been reading.and much which Lacy took. for he is an old fool. I lose . and in this remote place. .html I would a bride . I may have deceived you in the letter. Whom I wish to meet may . If not in plain French or Spanish. 'I am bound to ask why a meeting with a learned stranger has to be conducted in such very great secrecy. My mind perhaps. a foolish dream. Lacy. nor to any person thereof. I go to plot with some emissary of James Stuart. 'Perhaps I am one of those seditious northern jacks? Another Bolingbroke? These papers here are all in cipher. I place neither body nor soul in danger. if the purpose be wholly innocent. as you might be.' 'I must still ask why I should be deceived. What I am upon may be a wild goose chase. You choose to be playful.' The actor's eyes glanced at the papers. think you not? I am here to creep into the woods and meet some disciple of the Witch of Endor. But not in the spirit. http://www. I beg you.' Mr Bartholomew leant back in his chair.or my Muse indeed. How does that cap fit?' The actor passed the paper back to him.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. were I a poet. and I am not forgiven for refusing to play it. offered a part in a history. Mark. After a few moments the actor looked up. the case between us is not exact. that question sits strangely in your mouth. sir. I think this not the moment.. 'No more. To exchange my eternal soul against the secrets of the other world. before whom I am as Dick before myself.' 'Look. nay. They are indeed in a cipher of a kind. 'I can make nothing of it. this time with a distinctly sardonic smile. The man in the chair stood and went to the fire. 'No matter. sir. And whom I have been hitherto prevented from seeing as much as by a jealous guardian.' 'Necromantical. . I bring no harm to king or country. that is my elder brother. If you will not play. as if his secret thought had been read. 'My blood chills. but a man's mind is his own business. Page 23 . I am born with a fixed destiny. ' but he broke off.' 'This person is in hiding?' Mr Bartholomew stared at him for a moment.' For a moment the actor seemed confused.' 'Then let us talk no more nonsense. then put the paper with the others on the table beside his chair. Have you not spent your own life deceiving?' Lacy seemed set back a moment by such a charge.

I most sincerely wish we might have met in more open circumstances. 'I have no liberty. I must go as a thief from those who would have me do as they want. sir.' 'And I do not impugn the regard that inspired it. There was a small silence. which city I would have you gain with all speed. that is Farthing. Though you cannot credit me in so much else. credit me in that. beside my apprehensions.' He hesitated. at night. The road you and your man shall take joins that to Crediton and Exeter. Lacy. but then he showed a distinctly sarcastic smile. sir.' 'Does the maid not come with us?' 'No.' 'You were right.html more than you may imagine. 'Where?' The actor eyed his back.' Mr Bartholomew turned away to the fire again. We will settle our business and bid our formal adieux tomorrow.' The actor gave him a drily rueful smile. Farthing tells me.' He turned.' Page 24 .com/abclit.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I think you must know your man is smitten.' Mr Bartholomew gave him a long look. In a very few miles we shall come to where we must part. unless I steal it first. I have said what I must. I have had little commerce with your profession. believes he has seen her before. 'Tomorrow we leave together. The only thing I desire of you to conceal is all that concerns me and the manner of our coming to this place. I would say no more. as if confessing himself baffled. then down. That is all. You have raised a devilish curiosity in me. and the speaker went on in a more even tone. 'He has gone to where she lies. but permit me now to thank you for your assistance and patience. 'So be it.' 'And what said you to that?' 'I would not believe him. you will. as now. He stared moment at Mr Bartholomew. I perceive I have lost by my ignorance. He is not spurned. And now truly. as if the actor now grew impertinent. If they are all like you. 'And I wish that we still may. 'Jones. and watching him. 'Entering a bagnio. Once there you may return to London as you please and when you please.' 'I must tell you something. As we agreed at the beginning.' 'But nor is she now a lady's maid.' The actor looked down. http://www. with a little shrug and nod. If I go where I will.' He left a little pause. by your own admittance. I hope. 'May a man not lie with his own wife?' The actor was once again caught unawares. for good reason. sir. He is mistaken.processtext. Where he was told she was employed.

Such a fixed. some smaller. sir. or with the primitive poker splays those that are slow to burn from the packed density of their pages. who now reaches beside the huge hearth. then resumes once more his watching pose. yet uncertain. Both men now stare at this small holocaust as they had earlier stared at each other.' The actor hesitated. in a room where there are other people.processtext. and watches his servant lift the box and carry it to the hearth before the fire. In fact the stare lasts much longer. Mr Bartholomew makes a step to look down into the chest beside the hearth. but most he simply lets drop. 'Lacy. to be sure that it has been properly emptied. and now Dick kneels and starts disposing similarly of the leatherbound books. and looked back. I think you would not let an audience have the final act before the first. Mr Bartholomew stands and picks up the sheaf of papers on the table. Intense shadows dart and shiver about the bare room. One by one he takes them out. for it is not yet written. without a look at his master.and where one expects dialogue. and throws them to blaze with the rest. interlocked regard would have been strange if it had lasted only a second or two. for the servant has made no sign of respect.' He smiled. one of your play-pieces. then bowed and turned away. For the second you may rest easy. One or two he tears apart by main force.' The actor gave him one last searching. there is nothing: a Shandy-like blank page. or at least a description of movements and gestures. or siblings. almost as if they speak. Mr Bartholomew goes back to his chair and sits. for all your love of fixed tomorrows? Then leave me my mysteries also.' The final act of my pieces will be told. for he bends and closes its and many stamped in gilt with a coat of arms. as in a mirror. They catch almost at once. into the mounting flames. The deaf-mute servant comes into the room. as if they were no more than old newspapers. why. http://www. It is like turning a page in a printed book . At last both move. staring at his master by the fireplace. But on opening the door to leave.' 'And nor can I give it. and they cannot say what they truly feel. passed him with a curt gesture. or a gross error in binding. no page at all.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and drops them opened with their pages down. I bid you goodnight. It is truly like a tale. The two men stand in their silence. then stands behind the crouched servant. and quite devoid even of its carefully hidden hints of expression. where more logs stand piled. he stopped in surprise. beyond all semblance of a natural happening. in each other's looking. and simultaneously.html 'The first you must quell. though their mouths do not move. He stands by it. cast one more look at the silent man in the shadows outside. then returns to his Page 25 .' 'Send him in. There is the true difference. It seems it has. yet prolonged far beyond that casual kind of exchange of secret feeling. There he begins immediately to feed the sheafs of written paper inside the box to the red embers. I am not to have that privilege. It is such a look as a husband and wife. demi-folios and large quartos. and dis appeared. to set five or six transversely across the incandescent pile of paper. mutual. as if he would still say more. Dick turns to the box beside which he stands by the door. since the hearth flames are far brighter than the candle-branches. who looks back. and does no more than push them to a heap where they have fallen loose. and closes the door. might give. look. as a stopped film begins again. 'Your man waits here.

The net result is perhaps not aesthetically unattractive. Without another look at his master he leaves. Several minutes later. lifts it and comes back with the long piece of furniture and sets it facing the still lively fire.' 'But double roasted. How many different men have cleft thee this last six month?' 'I don't know.processtext.' 'I shan't be alone. with her painted face. where the benchstool lies. all thy lewd tricks. He examines her as he would an animal: the matching grey-pink brocaded gown and petticoat. Why. The new clothes do not improve appearance. Mr Bartholomew watches the fire. 'Shall I send thee back to Claiborne. 'Thou hast played boy to every Bulgar in London. Then. something plain and pleasant turned artificial and pretentious. when it is near complete. it is done. is it not better so? As mysterious a smile meets his.' He stares at her. then he stiffens his other forefinger and firmly pierces the circle.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and now there is the ghost of a smile on his face. stands on the threshold. There. the cherry and ivory stomacher.html chair and sits again. the lace wing-cuffs on the threequarter sleeves. waiting for this incomprehensible sacrifice to be concluded. the pert white head-cap with its two hanging side-bands.'. Dick appears behind her and closes the door. Even the pox is afraid to touch thy morphewed carcase. and is glad.' Again the girl says nothing. each leaf and page. sir. yet it seems pathetically out-of-place. sir. comes into the room a few paces. returning to the bed. they ruin it. so much as an old friend's. The young woman from upstairs. then waits by it. since thou art the cause. each fallen scrap. sir. He remains so until the door opens again.' 'For which thou shale roast in hell. 'Answer. It is not a servant's smile. 'Did I not hire thee out to have my pleasure?' 'Yes. the colour of dried blood. Yea or nay?' 'I have worn men's clothes. at last looks coldly at the standing girl. unsmiling. sir. burnt to ashes. the smile of someone who knows why this is done. making a circle of the thumb and forefinger. Dick rises and goes to the foot of the bed. This time it is brought to an end by Mr Bartholomew. 'Modesty sits on thee like silk on dung. seemingly lost in thought. of Louise. even worn men's clothes to please their Think'st thou God makes no distinction in his wrath between those that fall and those that make them fall? Between Adam's weakness and Eve's wickedness?' Page 26 .' 'French. She curtseys. nor seems surprised to be called a different name from the one that Farthing gave her. Claiborne told me all of thee before we struck our bargain. He raises his left hand. Italian. 'Nor how many ways. the inverted cone of her tight-laced bust. just once. the highly unnatural colour of the face. http://www. Fanny? And bid her whip thee for thy sullenness?' The girl neither moves nor speaks. he opens its curtains. Mr Bartholomew goes back to watching the fire. Dick looks across at Mr Bartholomew. even a collusive fellow criminal's. She wears now also a small throat-necklace of cornelians. some ten feet from it. and for a few seconds there begins another stare between the two.' He watches her. almost as if he resents this interruption.

' 'In shadow.html 'I cannot tell.' Page 27 . And I tell thee I'll have my money's worth of thee.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. Thy insolence has showed as naked as thy breasts. Here.' 'Thou lying jade. I saw thy glance and what it spake: what stench in the nostrils thy damned violets were for. sir. Dost think me so blind I did not catch that look of thine at the ford?' 'It was but a sir. whether thou wilt or not.' 'To please you in all.' 'I tell thee.' 'With all her sins.' To please you in all.' 'And that tuft of flowers beneath thy nose but violets?' 'Yes. sir. her head still bowed. 'Say this: I am a public whore. sir. I meant no else. 'And let me see thy eyes.' He points to a place in front of him.' 'And guilty of insolence. sir.' 'I am a public whore. The girl hesitates.' 'I am issued of Eve.' 'No.' 'Hired for your use. Didst ever hear a public hackney tell its master how to ride?' 'I have done your will.' 'I am issued of Eve. sir. http://www.' ''Then get thee to thy knees. beside the bench.' 'I wore them for themselves.' 'Hired for your use. sir. then comes forward and kneels.' 'And swear to it?' 'Yes. with all her sins.' 'With all her sins.' 'I say yes.' The grey ones stare down into the uplifted brown.

It speaks of a hitherto hidden trait in his character: a sadism before Sade.' The girl looks down a moment at the floor. Mr Bartholomew stares at her. 'Answer. and more white than rosy.html 'Guilty of insolence. and as unnatural as the singeing smell of burnt leather and paper that pervades the room. Now bare thy putrid body. then across at Dick by the door. but in its coldness. http://www. still four years unborn in the dark labyrinths of real time. There he stoops and takes the poker and carefully pushes some last scraps of page and paper that have escaped burning towards the now flaming logs that were added. 'Answer.' 'So I swear. she does not. to have had acquaintance with the finest.' 'Damned in hell. and now fall so low?' Once more she says nothing. Art not ashamed. but will not look at Mr Bartholomew for explanation. There seems something demonic now in that face beneath the bald head. Slowly her head Page 28 .' 'And so I swear. in some mysterious blank page.' 'Which henceforward I do renounce. demonic not in its anger or emotion. At last she sits naked. although with no apparent sign from Mr Bartholomew.' 'It was your will. Dick turns abruptly and leaves. then rises to her feet and begins to unlace her dress. beside the garments she has removed.' 'To see you sport and couple. Not strut your attachment like turtling doves. sir. 'Shall he serve thee?' The girl says nothing. it is here.' Seemingly driven at last beyond timidity. to him.' 'No. The girl glances quickly round at the door.' 'Or may I be damned in hell. although it shows not a sign of the morphew it has just been accused of. with her mutely mutinous bowed head. as if surprised at this and peels off her clocked stockings. but for the necklace of cornelians and the cap. He straightens and looks down at what he has done. Now they are alone. her head once more bowed.processtext. At the conclusion of it she sits on the far end of the benchstool. with her hands in her lap.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. And his cockpiece. he stands and goes to the fire. Yet not for long. But you won't have it. 'Thou art shriven. The girl turns her back slightly to him as her undressing proceeds. Mr Bartholomew still sits implacably in the chair where he has read. and frighteningly so.' Mr Bartholomew stares down into her eyes a long moment. as before she came. Her body is not truly to the masculine taste of its time: it is slim and small-breasted.' My inclination is to you. its indifference to this female thing before him. Had one to represent in a face the very antithesis of human feeling. and again they regard each other.' 'Which henceforward I do renounce. his back to her.

while her naked body moves to press lightly against his back. She hesitates. I heard thy pantings when last he rammed thee. not angrily. sir. She murmurs something in a low voice. or calculation. then resumes his staring down at the fire. inaudible across the room. Away. it a seeming brown study. and her hands attempt to escape his and insinuate themselves forward.' Still she solicits.' 'No. sir. The hands are immediately caught.' He remains at the fire with his back turned while she dresses. Cover thy shamelessness. some unexpected spark of curiosity. sir.' 'He glances half round. but merely prevented from slipping forward. The offer made is not difficult to guess. then stands and goes softly on her bare feet behind that impassive back.processtext.html comes up to watch him. clouds those brown eyes. And I'll tell thee how. 'When wert thou first debauched?' Something in that voice from the hidden face. 'With all my heart.' 'He got thee with child?' Page 29 .' 'Thou hast no heart. 'Thou art a fool and a liar.' 'In London?' 'In Bristol. I'll make you stand tall as a beadle's staff. that then you may use on me. so long that in the end she speaks.' "Twas only feigning.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Fanny.' 'In a bagnio?' 'No. 'At sixteen. A son of the house where I was maid. makes her slow to answer. sir. 'I am dressed. as a pillion passenger's might. 'Tis you I desire to please. she sits again on the bench and waits.' What thou'dst fain have. sir. since her hands rise in a cautious yet practised fashion and come to rest on the sides of his damask coat. and unexpectedly his voice is less scathing and bitter. Where I was born. sir. 'Then dress. as if indeed from some reverie.' 'He says nothing. Now they are firmly removed. When she is ready. Some kind of speculation.

because I could find no honest work. and then was I out again upon the street. sir. and would poison my sisters. Where I must come in the end to begging. and stands astride. for they said I had denied the inner light.' He turns. since that day?' Page 30 .' 'How cam'st thou to London?' 'By starving. and all that followed. So I sold it where I could and came to London. my master. he forced the first kiss. 'Tis so with most of us.' 'And thy parents were right to reprobate. not theirs.' 'Most in need do not turn strumpet.' 'And gave thee thy wages?' 'If a broom-handle be wages.' 'How friends?' 'What people call Quakers.html 'No. for she would not hear wrong of him. http://www. and found a place. and I must let him have his way.' After a moment she adds. sir. And I knew when 'twas found out. 'I was carried to it by need. and 'tis they who do the hiring. and thought myself fortunate. But I was not. Which my new mistress discovered. his hands behind his back. But his mother discovered us one day.' 'I know.processtext. before we were discovered. But I was blamed for all.' 'What inner light is that?' 'The light of Christ. What next?' 'The young man gave me a ring. sir. sir. It was stole from his mother's box. My master and mistress too. came to lust after me. That I was Satan's child. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. My father and mother would not hear. for all their false doctrine?' 'For what I did. he stole the ring without my asking. They are Friends. 'Tis the manner of their faith. sir.' 'And not thine. My mistress made out I had bewitched her There was that in my face seemed not to please mistresses. I should be accused. Not true. sir.' 'Therefore the corruption lies in thy wanton nature?' 'Yes. sir.' "God gave thee no parents?' 'They would not have me back. sir. fear of my place. for the husband.

processtext. plants himself in front of her. He goes on in the same even voice. Greater strangeness still follows. Most singularly. Abruptly. sir.html 'No. hardly an unmistakably human smile. but the girl does not speak. for of a sudden that arctic face smiles . sir?' Page 31 . when thou'rt become too stale for the bagnio. sir. sir?' 'Know you not why gentlemen kiss a woman's hand?' That final surprise. Fanny. he drops the hand and turns away to his original chair. Fanny with her painted face. sir.' 'Is it not as sure as that this wood will burn to ashes?' The girl's head bows deeper. sir.' He waits.' 'The virtuous wife. Nor the next. it is nearest to an understanding one. leaving her to stare in shock after him. If the pox has not already claimed thee.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.' Slowly her head rises and she meets his eyes. His next action is even more incomprehensible.' Her lost eyes seek his again. in his change of person of address to her. despite the very different environment. yet neither is it a cynical or sneering one. and shakes it. as if she were trying to read on his face what she could not comprehend in his words. http://www. Having done which. She lowers her head. For a moment they are. must it not.' 'I am barren. 'What shall I give.' 'Thou hast belief in a next world?' 'Yes. sir. With mewling brats at thy skirts. 'Or as sure as the hell that awaits thee here on earth. but holds it. 'What stops thy tongue?' 'I would not be what I am. dear lamb. or a crone in the poorhouse. Mr Bartholomew with his bald is true. Fanny.' 'Which must be Hell. is too much. he does not release the hand.' 'No belief in Christ?' 'No belief that I shall meet Him in this world. 'Why did you that. and still not without a for he takes three or four steps.' 'Then thou art a prize pigeon indeed. bends and takes her right hand and raises it briefly to his lips. and she does not reply. for such as thee?' 'I pray not. 'For what you are about to give me. where he sits. Thou'lt end a common bawd. no doubt. sir. Or think'st thou to multiply thy sins and swell to another Claiborne in thy after-years? That will not save thee. Far less Mistress Claiborne. it seems more in puzzlement than in outrage at being taunted so. like pantaloon figures from _some fete galante__ by Watteau. staring down at her face.

With them you must converse as you have learnt with Dick. It shall be of you. No paint. as if in reluctant submission. not your practised lust. You have a faculty of playing the prudish virgin.' Page 32 .' He contemplates her. no sign of what you truly are. I command this. no London manners.' She bows her head.' 'That may be. not such as you showed me but this half-hour gone. or we should all run loose.' 'Nor that neither.' 'A bond with the Devil's no bond. and who have it in their power to advance my most cherished hopes. And in that use that I have purchased. They we meet would see respect in you. Fanny. http://www. Fanny. they care not for such things. that you must do. a young woman brought up in country modesty. But not that I must please others also. In their country there are no women like you. sir.html 'We are come near those waters I spake of. and he continues. 'What say you to that?' 'What I must.' 'I purchased you for three weeks. 'You have shown well enough there.' He is silent.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. nor jewels.' 'Did she not say when we engaged that you must please me in all?' 'Yes. no finery. and dearly. that shall cure me. I must?' 'What they shall plainly want. staring at her still bowed head. 'I would have you mark my every word. Demure in all.' 'I know some little French. No knowing looks. My displeasure was semblance.' 'Have you not said. sir. But listen well. sir. one innocent of men. Not of money. did I not?' 'Yes. Such I would have you be tomorrow. sir. a token of my esteem. Fanny. and sworn to and have showed a thousand others besides. of Dutch some words also. It is most far from this of ours. Tomorrow we shall meet those who keep them. but a minute past. But she's worse than the Devil to those that forsake her. Is that understood?' 'So be it they would have me to their beds.processtext. They are but late arrived from their native country.' 'Then I have two weeks' use of you yet. You must not mistake the manner and appearance of those who keep these waters. and they do not speak our tongue. That I am bound to Mistress Claiborne. 'I would not be worse still. You shall tomorrow essay to please those we hope to meet. I would bring them a present. She must. to test you for this my real intent. that you wish you were not what you are?' Her voice is almost inaudible.

mobile. and as little worth expecting sympathy from as seems proven by Mr Bartholomew's impassive face. The conditions of such past worlds were more inexorably fixed than we can imagine. 'Now open the shutter and look out. beside His Father?' She looks back to where he sits. labelled and categorized by circumstance and fate. from anachronistic skinhead he seems now become something even more improbable: Buddhist monk. that is mine.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Nothing in his seeming behaviour until now has predicted this: a contentment. 'Do as I say. If anything it shows a strange patience. 'Nothing but the stars. and then he speaks again. very nearly half were of infants below the age of five). To us such a world would seem abominably prescribed.' Then what instead?' 'Nothing. and there is silence. because life obliges it to suffer this kind of humiliation. sir. the small tears of one who knows herself without choice. He says quietly. Nearly a minute passes. The sky is come clear. His expression now is without cynicism or sarcasm. that is more unexpected still. with personal destiny fixed to an intolerable degree. from a modem sense of self. Such humiliation is as inseparable from life as mud from winter roads.processtext.' 'And in that night?' She glances quickly out of the Yet there is a hint of something else in his eyes. drowned in what he is and does. or the former cruelty. 'You know not. Doth Claiborne let you pick and choose.' 'Do the beams of the brightest shake?' Again she looks. praeternaturally equable and contained. and her side of the silence at least is explained. 'Do you see the Redeemer on His throne in the heavens. totalitarian in its essence.' He waits till he hears.' She looks up at him.' Page 33 . but then abruptly stands and goes to it. Her time has little power of seeing people other than they are in outward. less to be envied than to be pitied our lack of absolutes and of social certainty).html 'Whether I would or not?' 'I tell you you shall do their will. for he does not turn in his chair to look. Fanny does not weep with frustrated rage. or calm. which applies even to how they see themselves.710 deaths registered in England in the by no means unusual month previous to this day. while to its chained humans our present lives would seem incredibly fluid. driven by self-esteem and self-interest. and above all anarchically. 'Yes.' She still hesitates. if not insanely. Fanny. sir. as you were fine lady?' She bows her head again. rich in free will (if not indeed Midas-rich. a satisfaction of the kind his servant Dick had momentarily shown when the papers were burnt. or as child-death from child-birth (of the 2. Mr Bartholomew surveys her. Her eyes are wet with tears again. http://www. 'Go to the window. The night. but much more with a dumb animal's sadness. the shutter open.

' 'I will tell you. Shall I tell thee why they scorn?' She is silent. as you are bought for mine.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.' 'And if he doth not hear?' She is silent. Beneath their light you are but brute. sir. I know not what you would have of me. It matters not to them whether you have faith in Christ or not.' He stands and walks to the hearth. They shake with laughter. as blind as Fate itself.' 'Is such. They will mock you to _your__ day of death. Fanny. You are born for their amusement. They have mocked you since your day of birth. drab or duchess. or flout his desire. no more for the courses of your miserable existence than those on a high hill who watch a battle in the plain below. 'Because thou dost not scorn them back.processtext. until thou wak'st. You are nothing to them.' 'Now say the justice who gives you such justice is no man. sir. true justice?' 'No.' 'But say that man's a justice. for they mock you. it is all one. You are but a painted shadow to them.html 'Do you know why?' 'No. 'I turn away.' 'Sir?' 'No more. pain or bliss. 'Then you must needs sit in the stocks. Fanny. They care not one whit what may become of you. Whether Hell or Heaven awaits you. indifferent to all but its spectacle. to them it is equal. but you yourself. as deaf and dumb as Dick. and all your world. Are sinner or saint. Man or woman. good fortune or bad. who would have you whipped and clapped in the stocks without fair cause?' 'I should protest I was innocent. Fanny. Get thee to where thou must lie. and the stocks you sit in made not of iron and wood. young or old. but of your blindness for the one part and your folly for the other? What then?' 'I am bemused.' The girl stares across the room at the oblivious back of his head.' 'Yes. sir. sir?' 'How do you scorn a man?' She is slow to answer. 'How should I scorn stars. 'What I should have of far more than thee.' Page 34 .

and a little later goes to the window. of the meekness the girl's face has shown him during their one-sided conversation. then starts to cross the room towards the door. 'My lord. As he comes to it. Page 35 . There he looks out and up as she had done. http://www. He turns his back upon her. If anything it seems a translation. and an unseen curtsey. I beg you. unbuttoning his long waistcoat. but stops behind the stool.processtext. and looks obliquely at him. as a man seeking undeserved forgiveness or the oblivion of infancy might. in final dismissal. At last he turns and looks at the stool.html She does not move for a moment or two.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. It is impossible to read by his face what he is thinking. in terms of his own sex and features. he sinks to his knees on the broadplanks and buries his bald head against its side. For some time in the silence he remains standing and staring at the now dying fire. against a mother's He walks towards the bed. In the end he quietly latches the shutter close again. although there appears on it now a last paradoxical metamorphosis. almost as if he wishes to assure himself that there are indeed stars alone in the sky. She gives Mr Bartholomew one last look. and leaves. that point towards the door. what would you have?' But the only answer she receives is his raised left arm and hand.

com/abclit. in a Wood of a Parish some 10 Miles from this Place. or so adjudg'd by the Coroner. whose first Inquiries could find no Name to this _Felon de se__ nor Cause for so ghastly a Deed. The Discovery six Weeks since. of a Stranger hang'd by his own Hand. now raises upon fresh-found Informations Alarm of a far greater Crime.__ with three others.__ 1736 The Examination and Deposition of _Thomas Puddicombe __the which doth attest upon his sworn oath. but the more to be wonder'd. http://www. since that Time.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. ended his wretched Days.__ Thursday.processtext. in a fit of lunatick Madness. tho' deaf and dumb. nor his Companions. then overcome by Remorse. 'Tis thought the mute Servant may have kill'd all. to a Gentleman named Bartholomew that pass'd for _Bideford. or Fear of justice. and hid their Corses.html _Barnstaple. but not heard of. June 17th. this one and thirtieth day of July in the tenth year of the Page 36 . _The Western Gazette. in April last. It is now learn'd he was Manservant. that to this Present no Inquiry is made by Mr Bartholomew's Friends.

Farthing. The man came first. Q. sir. I would have you first affirm that this portrait in miniature I have shown and now show you again is that of the younger of the two gentlemen that stayed in this your inn some three months So I judge it. and justice also. I remember it well. I have been so nigh upon these forty years and my father before me. a little after six of the clock. The two men and the maid. I am landlord of the Black Hart Inn. A. The uncle and nephew. a three hours before sunset. 'Tis very like. in that office. Q. to command chambers and victuals. When came they? A.html reign of our sovereign Lord George the second. &c. Now. or thereabout. Q. For he said they had dined ill. I am capital burgess of this town. The dress matters not. and had empty bellies.processtext. I have been thrice its mayor.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Then rode back to conduct them. I will swear thus far. by the grace of God King of Great Britain and of England. At what hour? A. and they came as he promised. Q. His name? A. 'Tis he. Q. Q. Very well. To the best of my belief. Tho' he was dressed less fine. Page 37 . The last day of April past. Five in all? A. A. Look upon his face. Master Puddicombe. I shall never forget it. I AM THREE score years and six of age. http://www.

Marked you whatsoever untoward in their manner? A. Who is this? A. sir. I know no more of him than one I might pass in the street. The younger went straight to his chamber on the coming and did not show his face outside until he left. He knew them? A. 'Twas all within these four walls. When I told them he was below. Until what ye know of was discovered. An hour. But the uncle. sir. they seemed in all what they said.processtext. How soon was this upon their coming? A. But that he took chay after supper with Mr Beckford and Q. Q. That is the uncle? The nephew was not present? A. That they did. I think less. I can tell ye little else. Mr Brown and Mr Bartholomew. Not a word? A. Q. I think not. Q. And sat with Mr Beckford in the private parlour. My maid Dorcas served them. Q. Not at that time. No. She said - Page 38 . He supped. http://www. For he came with his compliments to the gentlemen. How long? A. sir. But on this night they stayed? A. Mayhap more. sir. they so gave themselves? A. he slept. Our curate. sir. They had supped. they seemed not to know him. sir. Q. I spake very little with either gentleman. Why. sir. sir. Q. But they did speak with him? A. that is. No. Q.html Q. Q. Not an hour. sir. And then he went. Q. sir. journeying for Bideford.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. woke up and brake his fast. Did you hear the subject of their conversation? A. Mr Brown came down. in a few minutes. And the uncle? A.

A. In sum. A. sir. Of the young gentleman's a-coming to court his aunt. he that was found. What said Farthing of Mr Brown's profession? A. That he was London merchant. Page 39 . but I did not mark them. Why. sir. who was dead. there was manners and compliments. Tell what you know of your own eyes and ears. For he was child to another sister. Met they as strangers . Was aught said of Mr Bartholomew's dead parents? A. sir. Q. But the man Farthing had spake in the kitchen of why they travelled. he said. Q. They bowed and sat. To wit? A. sister to Mr Brown. Rich as a sultaness. Q. No. sir. The nephew's man. so 'twas said. Did Mr Beckford speak to you afterwards of this meeting? Of what passed? A. the rogue. I would have your closer remembrance of the servants. http://www. sir. I will hear that from her. with they of quality who pass here. he said I should see the two gentlemen well served and lodged. All spent and wasted. I took Mr Brown to where Mr Beckford was in wait. for they have lately inquired. Tho' he lied in all. but was left guardian of the nephew on his parents' decease. Q. Mr Beckford does often thus. A rich lady. Q. So I took the man to mean. No. Save as he went. But that their son had grown above himself. but near. Q. sir. But he lied. And the maid carried from London to serve her and dress her hair. And when I said I knew her not. and alderman of that city. Christian business. at Bideford. and had children of his own. this Farthing said 'twas not to be wondered. He did not say. two gentlemen encountered by chance? A:So I thought to it. this nephew? A. they have asked all about. As strangers. the like. Very well. on Christian business. That the uncle was a worthy person of London. and her husband also.html Q.processtext. for she lived much retired.or as men who had fore-acquaintance? A. He said that. No. How so? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. I went to see for their chay. Q. But there is none such at Bideford? A. They who have letters and Latin: One is easy said. and not in Bideford town itself. Q. Q. and there is none such lady of that name. And he had inherited no fortune of his own.

He would have made free of her in the night. sir. They are not to be believed. the girl was afraid to tell till then. I had a scolding for that. Q. Thus always he spake of my friend Mr Brown when 'twas clear he was servant to the gentleman. Then his bluster and bragging. sir. And then his going off before sunrise. As I am of my own name. He was one who would seem to know much. Why. Q. He made more noise than a company of dragoons. sir. And as for the lechery. Why. Q. he was saddled and gone before dawn. Q. and as bold. and promised. sir. without his master's knowledge? A. You are sure he was Welsh? A. Though she is a good girl. of a kind I would not have had my maids hear. They called him Dick. I counted him an idle fellow. and ne'er a word of warning. He was sent ahead for some purpose? A. and a lecher into the bargain. sir. No. He was Welsh. sir. Why? A. Q. for that he was ancient sergeant of marines. I know not. yes. Q. first. http://www. it turned out he could have better charged himself than him they called Dick. Q. His name? A. that he was moon-struck. Master Puddicombe. Page 40 .processtext. He offered her a shilling for it. What else did he speak of? A. Much on military matters. there was more to that than met the eye. Farthing told tales of him. Did Mr Brown show surprise that Farthing was gone? A. sir. By his voice. He was gone when we rose. when Mistress Puddicombe came I did not hear till they was gone. who bore a Q. and well named. or so would have us believe. Yes. But I put no credence in Farthing.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. She was away to Molton for our youngest daughter's lyingin. Q. You would say. no other name. What was this? A. 'Tis all I know. and gave no encouragement.html him I might make nothing of. sir. As hollow as brass. My maid Dorcas. What tales? A. Then he would have us believe him better than he was. and his past prowess therein. to be wiser than us. He boasted but to make favour with my maids.

And no lunatick? A. He did say he was drummer-boy in a battle of '18.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. http://www. Farthing told tattle when he took water to the maid upstairs and was slow to come down again. I know not. A strapping fellow for his body. For he did so eat and drink that my cook did call him. did show more tall than short and carried more lard than meat beside. ancient wounds. And he bore no scars. Since he could not. And as to those . a year or two given. Us doubts us now he had fought an inch. Sergeant Cut and Come-again. No. But a well-built fellow. I think he meant no harm. sir. of which my table and cellar did bear the proving. Which us did credit a little then. Q. sir. 'Twas not spoken of. And the other fellow. Q. to which also he might answer. Q. And yet you say there was more in it than meets the eye? A. Very well. or limped in his gait? A. tho' then in jest.processtext. For all they say now. Able for nothing beyond the doing of his duties. these thirty years past.had he especial that you marked? A. Poor dog for his wits. But rather a poor dog of a man than aught else. not as an honest man' by his present looks. Q. seeing he must dure that Farthing would use him for a Jack-a-Lent. that is. I would I had one such in my service. Q. No. Q. Nor any of the others? A. More in the eye than truth. For which I blame him not one whit. For the general. Q. that he wore quilled. Dark and quick. Save his mustachios.html Q. that you saw? A. What age was he? A. so far as I could tell. sir. outside of taverns or in his cups. sir. Q. That he said nothing of it when we supped. sir. in appearance? A. He seemed simple. Q. Page 41 . Said not a word. What colour were his eyes? A. But I saw somewhat in his eye that Farthing was no more in his books than mine. Nor lecher. Q. or my name is not Puddicombe. sir. this Dick? What of him? A. brisk to his work. like the false Turk he was. No. Nor was halt. For the rest. neither? A. by which I did have him to be born.

Q. sir. sir. would rest. you say? A. not us. No. that are lady's maids. She said little? A. sir. some now think her such. Tho' in manner. Well. Q. she was fine enough to be of France. Q. Q. tho' small in flesh.what name had she? A. sir. or some such. He made no advances to your maids? A. And said she would not sup below because she had the megrims. No. Q. Q. 'twas said. some lady upon an adventure. So 'twas given. as trout before oven. Which we found strange. or not by her voice. Fair enough. Master Puddicombe? A. such as I have heard tell. sir. sir. that is after the king of France. one who had lived above his fortune and was now. Q. Page 42 . that were brown and grave as hind or hare's . What manner of looks had she? A. and made no great pretence of being other than she was. In contrary my girl Dorcas said she spake kind. Farthing spoke great ill of her and her fine airs. but a person of breeding in disguise? A. I do not forget her eyes.html Q. and not share it neither. like a lady. Did what this rogue Farthing say of Mr Bartholomew fit his demeanour? Seemed he to be such. sir. God rot him.come. that sounded of Bristow or thereabout. you would say? A. But she did speak as one born in Bristol. Louise. She came from London? A. I say nothing. http://www. to ape their betters. No. She was French? A. A trifle pale and city sickly. fair enough. that spake doubt of all. Very well. doubt of why she was come among us. And I can't decide. I mind not to have seen her once smile.aye. I fancy 'twas Farthing she could not abide. 'twas these times the mode in London for such as she. Yes. except it be to Dorcas. What mean you by doubt of all. Might she have been no maid. Now I have an important question. Why. Q. but well featured. But Farthing said. sir.processtext. sir. A strange one. so say we here.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. 'Tis Betty the cook and Mistress Puddicombe will have it so. and would sup in her room. sir. so asked to be excused. And this maid they brought . sir. An elopement. Q.

Q. Well enough. Out of mere curiosity? A. They did. sir. Mr Brown. sir. sir. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. what little he said. a pint of burnt claret. Neither. At what hour did they leave? A.processtext. it being May Day. Tho' 'twas done with politeness. Why. which I also counted strange at the time. Yes. to grovel at his aunt's feet? A. it did sound of more northern Q. I can't say more. one who came from a finer world than his merchant uncle? A. not he. but he his nephew. I did not mark it in the particular. Did he seem truly a greater gentleman than you was led to believe. He appeared to respect his uncle? A. More in the seeming than the heart. Mr Brown as of London. a flask of best Canary with their supper. Let us come to that. sir. sir. I would say soon after seven of the clock. Only from some that had met them on their road here for the maying. like enow. He took my best and largest chamber to himself. But that last still not empty when they left. Q. Q. supposing they had lodged by my roof. Leastways asked they my ostler Ezekiel directions for the leaving of the town thither. I could not say. impatient in his manner. sir. Q. but it was his nephew that gave 'em. Did he take much wine? A. Q. Q. Who did ask their business of me. And suchlike. somewhat as to your own. And they took the Bideford road? A. But no other news of their journeying that day? Page 43 . I would look to Mr Brown for instructions. Q. But no more than many young gentlemen are in these times. He seemed one used to command. And you heard no more of them that day? A. A sneaker of punch when they came. he had the air and manner of a gentleman. Handsomely? A. sir. Unless it be they seeming spake no common voice. http://www. I bear no complaint there. His uncle would see Mr Beckford. Who paid you the lodging? A. Q. Q.html albeit against his will. We were much occupied.

sir. A good league. Is true. not a word. You took here no suspicion as to who it was? A. Q. And how and where was the body found? A. and still bloomed as green as on a bank. sir. He but said it idly in passing. He said. She wore no harness. I must say the mare. would not be caught. that is badger and that I do know well of his trade these many years. By a shepherd-boy. But I took no account of it till the man Dick was found. No. The which. my man said. What manner of horse? A. the second of May. From one who passed at Daccombe when his corse was brought on a hurdle. more cleave than combe. thinking it run from its field. In a great wood we call Cleave Wood. How heard you of that? A. a sennight later. But the more learned say the plant took sustenance from the flesh. He might have hung there seven years and not been found. But first. no bridle nor saddle. did come by upon his business. sir. Q. ye must Page 44 . sir. nor when the crowner's man first came For it was a full week gone. So he gave up. Q. where it was seen. 'Tis place fitter for polecats than human mortals. sir. and did speak of a loose horse on his way hither. seeing they knew none other for him. Of which I This was the pack-horse? A. Q. 'Tis nothing unaccustomed. and such no more like being crimped in the one meadow than an Egyptian. http://www. If God had not willed it otherwise. Q. How far is Daccombe from here? A. our horses here are much mixed with the moorland kind. And this tale of violets? A. finding it soil at heart. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. He said 'twas a tuft torn up by its roots. I have spaken with one who went to cut the corse down and carry it back before 'twas staked and buried at Daccombe Cross.processtext. what is he? A. 'Twas all said at the inquisition. sir. As I know now.html A. Q. Nor then. Yet 'twas as strange a sight as ever he saw. sir. to see such sweetness in a blackened face. 'Twas late on the morrow. and the hour pressing for him. 'Twas taken as witchcraft. that stretches to the moor and is more steep than ne'er a man may walk in many places. poor Dick. Until that of the violet man. This is near where the horse was seen? A. An old bay pad-mare. A mile above the road. by many. Q. sir. Q. stuffed in the poor man': mouth before he took his last leap. No sir. 'twas wild. 'Tis how they named him. One Barnecott of Fremington. as we must all come to. without knowing what I heard.

I shall ask her. Q. sir. who is mayor. and prompt advised my friend Mr Tucker. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. 'Tis lapsed. Which he I spoke of that had seen him. That he was fair of hair. A goyal. And then it was plain. Q. And I took a suspicion that that too was the same. Next was the finding of the brassbound chest.__ that we might inquire and make report. that is sergeant at mace and our constable. had they not other baggage? A. Dr Pettigrew? A. and Digory Skinner. Now. not a smallest piece. The chest was empty? A. Q. Q. As your glass. Yes. Yes. http://www. A combelet. with Mr Acland the apothecary. who helped rope it on with their other baggages that very morning they left. sir. Then at last I waked. When was this? A. Q. that Dorcas must tell. A narrow sunken place. Q. Q. My ostler Ezekiel has likewise since seen it. And this place lies also below where the body was found? A. Have you no coroner here? A. told me. and else. And there is a tale there. what is that? A. amid the leaves. This chest had been hidden? A. and others beside. since the had passed. The first week of June. sir. to the Crowner. By charter. I had no thought of one alone come to such an end. 'tis not our parish. We rode to where they had took the chest. 'Twas thrown in a goyal of thick bushes. without inquiry made of the gentlemen his masters. ride out upon _Posse comitatus. and had blue eyes. and all was writ by Mr Acland to Barnstaple. Yes. for he do know somewhat also of the law. but she saw when 'twas open. close by the road where Cleave Wood runs and the old mare was seen. Q. But none to fill the place. and sat down and bethought me. sir.html understand. four hundred paces from the road. Mr Bartholomew's. A great leather portmantee. and that it was not. sir. and would hear more of the violet man's looks. But 'tis not found. sir. that is clerk to our town. And next? A. And then did Mr Tucker and myself. For some say now 'twas full of gold. With that my guests were five. 'twas haltered by then and kept in a farm nearby. nor the seam Page 45 . of my reasonings. sir. And Daccombe. But he who found it saw a glint of the brass.processtext. So he of Barnstaple was called. And I knew at once 'twas the same as the gentleman' sir. Then I would see the horse.

Others would have it he was in league with the murtherers. Q. And they were much afeared they should come upon other corses. sir. and full enough of strange faces. You are troubled with such here? A. take them if they were truly for Bideford. Ten men. For it is a busy town.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. They were seen by none there? A. about the place where the mare ran loose and the chest was found. They passed not. that all was waylaid and murthered. being strangers. apart from Mr Beckford? No messenger. if we but knew where to look.html beside. but repented. they must have passed by Daccombe. I know not. sir. Q. Why. fierce? Page 46 . sir. They were asked of there? A. Some say he murthered and hid. nor cumbered as they were Nor would they know them. Q. no strange person? A. Master Puddicombe. Q. Then I think not much to your second explanation. That night they passed beneath this roof.processtext. Yes. But the scent was cold. with many in the streets. 'Tis all riddle. Not this twenty years past. http://www. And being May Day. and ended his life in despair. Nor even i1 they did. more fierce in face than manner. No. None came to speak to them. they being in too much haste to bury him. Q. But certain 'tis that some foul deed was done. may you describe his looks? A. And the constables. Q. Q. There are no other roads? A. I say no more than what is said. sir. A. Q. sir. Not one eye. Some think 'tis so still. sir. Then why was the fellow Dick's not hidden also? A. It was searched for well? A. How. Sir. No. it would have beer marked. Those Dr Pettigrew sent had no gain for their pains. heard you no quarrels? High words? A. 'Twas said as much at the second inquisition. Q. Mr Brown. Q. Not that wise travellers take. sir. And I'll tell ye why. sir. Nor I. and so they must silence him and made it seem like self-murther. If they had gone further. Q. thank the Lord.

I am no fanatick nor meeting man. Perhaps more. King and true church. I thank you. I assure ye. Near fifty. sir. sir. Q. Naught of importance. middling in all.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I cannot tell. Jurat tricesimo uno die Jul. I have sworn.processtext. Rather I would say grave. Ask any here. as I warned. A sound carriage. Why. as us say here. Q. Q. Very well. sir. No other thing that bears upon my enquiry? 'tis said. Q. I can say no more. Was he fat or thin? How tall? A. sir. I know not London. Master Puddicombe. Of what age? A. sir. Such as a learned doctor.html A. Then unlike to his supposed occupation? Was he not said a merchant? A. A. http://www. And at your pain to keep my commission secret. My word is my bond. anno Domini 1736 coram me Henry Ayscough Page 47 . But they be great men there. ye may be sure. Not that I can think of at this present.

com/abclit. http://www.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.processtext.html Page 48 .

Very well. So speak by the grace of God King of Great Britain and of England. Yes. Q. spinster. Now I would have you look upon this portrait again.processtext. A. I AM SEVENTEEN years of age.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. http://www. Sir. Sir. Sir. for this person will write down all you say. I believe 'tis he. Book truth. Page 49 . I am maid of all work to Master and Mistress Puddicombe. Q. Is he the gentleman you attended in this very chamber on the last of April past? A. born of this place. And that you stand upon oath as in a court of law? A. Your master has told you of my purpose here? A. this one and thirtieth day of July in the tenth year of the reign of our sovereign Lord George the second. Yes. sir. Q. Yes.html The Examination and Deposition of _Dorcas Hellyer __the which doth attest upon her sworn oath. &c.

sir. Very well.html Q. Q. Not that us heard. No harm will come to thee for that. And 'twas said. Page 50 . Q. They ate well of these? A. Seemed they friendly the one to the other? Not angry. Q. girl. No remark on this was made? A. But they told I to leave. and a bowl of whitepot after. Q. No. Collops and eggs and a mess of dry pease and onion with brook-sallet beside. sir. Yes. Recollect. Sir. What should us mark. poorly dined. sir. Q. Q. You stayed as they ate? A. Marked you naught in their manner? A. sir. I be sure. Sir. sir. Yes. such as lodge here. Is it not a more usual case that travelling gentlemen. Passing well. And wishing to sup without further ado? Sir. http://www. You served the two gentlemen their supper? A. They would serve themselves? A. Sir. Few do pass. are served by their own servants? A. What ate they? A. Q. No. Did they speak together as you served? A. Not beyond the having rid far.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Yes. Q. Q. Yes. 'Tis as they please. or impatient to be left alone? A. as if they had quarrelled? A. I but ask thee. Q. sir? Q. A. sir. once 'twas brought ready. No. Q. I would. You are sure? Thou must say if thou art not. Their supper and all else. Seemed they troubled.

Dorcas. Q. I heard he to tell of a lady his sister. Q. I has no alphabet. I could not tell. who is new-married in Salisbury city. Nothing. The older gentleman. sir. Q.html Q. Have you seen Mr Beckford converse thus with strangers before? A. that you thought strange? A. He was reading? A. what papers are these? A. 'Twas below. where that gentleman writes. no more than there where you may turn and see. Beckford. What did they speak that you heard? A. What of himself? A. among their belongings. Of his family. sir. No. sir. And he may see all from his window. Q. 'tis close across the square. Q. sir. And nothing else? A.processtext. that I do remember. Which gentleman gave you their commands? A. None else. when us brought him more light. And later you brought tea to the same and Mr Beckford? _(Non comprendit.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. Yes. http://www. Page 51 . sir. what saw you in either gentleman's bed chamber. Q.)__ Chay. The older gentle man did ask for it to go up when he came down to Mr. Unless 'twas the chest and papers. The younger gentleman. Bohea. sir. For where he lodges. Mr Beckford spake of himself. sir. sir. Yes. Yes. Q. sir. Some was spread upon the table there. sir. Now. He wished more light. He enjoys genteel company? A. in a chest he had carried up. For he come from girl. Q. A. What manner of papers? A. sir. China leaf. Or so it be said. Q.

sir. Not as letters are printed in a book . Q. You mean there were numbers written thereon? A. for those who want such. Yes. Q. Put folio and demi-folio. As Master writes in his bills of lodging. sir. As the gentleman writes on now. No. Q. No. With counting numbers beside? A. sir.processtext. or close writing? A. like the moon? A. sir. Yes. Many. sir. 'twas a great circle. http://www. How. A. Yes. sir. sir. Yes. Q.they were not pages taken from a book? Page 52 . or folds. Q. or the black in the old moon. like enough. Q. as upon a bill or accompt? A. What are they? A. Yes. What figures? A. Among figures. And fell these numbers in lines and columns. And the size of each paper? A. Q. sir.saw you seal. They were written in ink.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. Us can't read. Q. 'Twas more like counting papers. Us saw one.html Q. Upon a curve? A. yes. Q.address? A. Numbers and signs that were no alphabet letters. Like a cheese-rind. And one twice as large. for I knows their look. But you have seen letters . You would say letters? Had these papers superscription . by hand? '. sir. A dozen or more. Upon that table you saw how many papers such as bore figures and numbers? A. and another with three sides and marks like the moon. Q. Q.

an inkstand. sir. 'Twas so big. And she said she was brought for maid to a lady to Bideford town. But they will not believe I. You saw books therein? A. when 'tis seen through its back-gate. pen or quill? A. And these books . 'Twas in shadow. No. as in our clock. hands to mark the hour? A. But that was are sure? A. and would not take her. No. Q. I believe thee. Yes. sir. Us spoke a little when I took her to her room. Some. But us saw a mizmaze of wheels. And nothing of herself? A.where were they? A.html A. 'tis why they were murthered. sir. the gentlemens' relation. sir. But you know that was not true? A. for I asked.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. The chest was by the door. sir. Q. Q. sir. sir. and among them a great clock of brass. without its case. Yes. A. No. They say now 'twas all gold. Dorcas. Now I come to Louise. No. Q. Q. like unto the workings of mistress Puddicombe's mantel-clock. sir. Of how far they had rid. And the chest was full of other such papers? A. A clock . Did the gentleman write? A. sir. sir. sir. And books. Then she asked if us knew Bideford and I said us Page 53 . for it lay the face down. Saw you a dial. but us peeped in as us went. Q. the maid. I would hear what prattle passed between you. sir. Q. No matter.processtext. Saw you the means . And as how her old mistress to London was gone abroad. Such things. with his lid thrown back. Yes. http://www. Q. Of where they went. Of what? A. Q. Not that us saw. Q.

Q. my child. such eyes a man might die for. Q. More like a lady than a maid? Too fair for her station? A. as she would have the world believe. Q. that he meant no harm and us was not to be afear'd of his looks and ways. where she was born? A. and would be no burden. She said a name. sir. and very comely.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Yes. But she had been long in London. No. Dick. I was called for. which is truth. but her past mistress had spake well of the older. Yes. Q. maid all her grown life. for her parents were dead. You would say. http://www. and fine market.processtext. If I liked my mistress. Q. without the airs and manners of a lady?y Page 54 . What said she of the two menservants? A. She asked you nothing of yourself? A. sir. for he called Dick should bring it above. Us did not talk long. Q. She said nothing of the two gentlemen? A. She had London ways.html had been there but once with my father. sir. plain mistress. And she said she knew us was busy. sir. She said of Bristow city. Q. That she had not set eyes on them till ten days before. Did she give her past mistress's name? A. What else? A. I cannot say. sir. An English name? Q. or one for some purpose but feigning to be so? A. by her birth. And of the other. She said nothing of Farthing. Could sew and dress hair. but us don't mind it now. Seemed she truly a lady's maid. Q. who was deaf and dumb. sir. sir. That she was very weary. sir. A lady of title? A. But she did say her words somewhat as they do from Bristow. I would have thee search thy mind. and whether us was happy at work. Did you not ask this Louise whence she came. and it is a large town enough. Q. but us need not care. Q. and how there were good wages for such as she there. Us be forgot. sir. She was well-spoken. and would sup alone.

And she was within. for us was a-wonder to hear her there. I have one. sir. Q. Why should he give such instructions at such an hour? A. You heard such? Thou must tell me what passed. What made you of this? A. Yes. Q. Q. The door is thick and they spake low. http://www. Us tried. Saw you no evidence the next morning that the conversation had been Page 55 . begging your pardon. us passed by the younger gentleman's chamber. A moment or two. yes. How do you know it was long . You heard her voice? A. sir. that I shall marry. I'll wager thou hast ten sweethearts already. Did you stop and listen? A.html A. Did you not think: this is no lady's maid? A. but us couldn't. Yes. Q. Yes. sir. And she did not go to bed after she supped. A. Us thought it strange they should speak so long. Then spare me thy thou art seventeen. sir. sir. Could you hear what was said? A. And we heard her creep in and close the latch before us slept. A. I don't know. For when I came to my own bed an hour or more later. Q. Q. as she said. Q. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. So us did. Q. I ask again. sir. Q. Q. Q. I dursn't say. sir. sir. which was half an hour or more after. That he gave her instructions to please her new mistress. On my oath. sir. Dorcas. sir. Did you not think her service might be more to the young gentleman's pleasure than her new mistress at Bideford? A. sir. The gentleman. Q. Who spoke most? A. But her chamber was next to I's and Betty's.processtext. when us thought her asleep. sir.did you not say you tarried but a moment or two? A. brisk and pretty. Come.

A. No. nor nothing. No. No. sir. Seemed she sad or happy with her lot? A. Yes. sir. That they had lain between the sheets. She said as much? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. are sure? A. No. Q. How else? You would say. Then she seemed else. more skittish and gay? Page 56 . No. Q. Us sleep deep. But once or twice. a trollop. It had been laid upon. Nor voice nor sound there? A. For the bed was not slept in. Q. Nor her leave in the night? A. sir. Or perchance a tale of woe. sir. Nor that neither. Q. No. Q. sir. Did she not perchance tell you that with handsome looks like yours she could find you a far better place and richer vails in London? A. I don't know.processtext. Q. and Betty the same. sir. And heard you no other person enter this young woman's chamber next to yours? A. sir. Q. Seemed she one of ill virtue. sir. Q. sir. 'Twas like she had better stayed where she was than come so far among strangers. of being crossed in love? A. 'Twas her look that said. but the clothes not taken back. http://www. a harlot? A. She smiled not? A.html carnal? A. Q. I don't know carnal. Q. sir. Not slept in . sir.

sir. Us don't know how to say. No. But when us would not suffer it. he said us should come later where he slept above the stable. It was of costly stuff? A.html A. When they had gone. us found a flowered kerchief upon her pillow. I am told the man Farthing took liberties with thee. Q. in the night? A. 'Twas such the Tiverton higgler showed last fairtide. How so? A. And when us would not take his shilling. work for three. For she said 'twould bring us ill luck. He would. girl. More than a maid might buy? A. He came after where I had need to go in the still-room. or worse. and tried to embrace I. at supper. he then would come to where us sleep. sir. My mother made us burn it. http://www. Yes. When he was as bad. and much to do. Tho' I wish he mought. sir. Q. No. Q. called Dick. sir. nor against the king's law to wear. Q. sir. but I would not 'bide 'em. Q. Q. he said to protect I. I shan't eat thee. and I did not care for the mommet.processtext. Indian cotton. and promised I a shilling if I would. 'Twas May Day. tho' not. No. sir. and the violet man. That he did speak evil of the other man. for us spoke only to say goodbye. not I. A. and wouldn't sell ever below three shilling. to please I. and knew he be liar. and had our Betty kiss his head with her cudgel Page 57 . and suchlike. when us had supped. He took you aside? A. Dorcas. And he came not. that he said new made in London town. like 'twas there for I to find. The next morning did you not ask her what she had been about in the younger gentleman's chamber so long? A. Q. that he was half beast and would have his wicked way with us if he had his chance. Q. He was much in drink. No.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. close-worked with blooms and strange small fowl. Where is this cloth now? A. the like. Q. When the murthers were known. and said good as the Indian. but I believed him not. sir. Come. And you would have none of him? A.

Page 58 . that thy honesty lost. not a word. Oxon. sir. My age is twenty-seven years.. before dawn. and curate of this parish since Michaelmas two years past. Did he tell you he should leave early. this one and thirtieth day of July in the tenth year of the reign of our sovereign Lord George the second. I see thou art an honest maid. Thou art constant at church? A. And here's the shilling for thee. Q. Q. MY NAME IS Sampson Beckford. I am clerk. I thank you for attending me. Dorcas. I am not married. Be always so. as I hear? A. No.processtext.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. of Wadham Q. &c. sir. I shall take little of your time. sir. http://www. Jurat die et anno supradicto coram Henry Ayscough The Examination and Deposition of _Mr Sampson Beckford __the which doth attest upon his sworn oath. Yes.. Q. by the grace of God King of Great Britain and of England.

My calling was inspired by civility. sir. And this uncle .processtext. Q. but I understood him to intimate that his nephew had hitherto foolishly neglected certain expectations of property. sir. sir. And at another time to a friend. Did he particularize the nephew's foolishness . Mr Brown. for all our exile from speakable society. You have my sympathies.he told you the purpose of their journey was to visit his sister at Bideford? A. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. sir. You did not meet the younger gentleman? A. since he adverted in passing to one of his ships. http://www. Q. Q. I am at your service. I thought to assure them that they had not arrived in wildest Muscovy. Q. as I doubt not they might well have supposed at the appearance of the place . forewarning by letter. Not that I recall. I take it you had never set eyes on Mr Brown or Mr Bartholomew before this 30th of April last? A. told me he was much fatigued. He spake of himself? A.html A. I know not what. Q. Q. Rarissimae aves. He was reproving of his nephew? A. I chanced to see them ride up. of their coming here? A. I can't say that he did. since the lady had no descent of her own. I recall he used that very phrase. That the nephew had outrun his means? A. in this unhappy town. and its temptations. Q. Though I noted he blamed London in part. sir. and would have had them all closed down. I took them for persons of education. His uncle. Nor had any expectation. Mr Beckford. sir? I saw as I thought an uncle and guardian who has led a sober. of living above one's means. I meant to say that such neglect is always foolish. Take all you will. That he was a London merchant. Q. and made his excuses. Mr Ayscough. But named neither? A. I presumed of some wealth. I thank you. Page 59 . industrious and Christian life and finds himself obliged to look upon the tares of folly in his own close show we are not quite without politesse. Nor that. Just so. Most unequivocally not.of what nature was it? A. His allusions were veiled. alderman of the City. I did not. I recall he spoke particularly against the licence of the theatres and coffee-houses. sir. He made some hint of a life too much given to pleasure. How shall I put it to you.

Q.should tell you of delicate family business. Q. sir. Perhaps a tutor. I took it as a compliment to my cloth. sir. sir. Others here marked that on occasion it was the feigned repentant nephew who gave instructions and took precedence. I truly could not say. I fancy I was somewhat surprised to learn it when I waited upon them. I do. My own impression. No.html Q. But when. and speculated as to their business here. I deemed it so. He knew more of counting-houses than of classical tongues? A. A grave. Q. But what? A. and am entirely at a loss. His real purpose was evidently not one that could be told strangers.I did not then suppose them by their manner uncle and nephew. Did he declare himself likewise City alderman? A. Exactly so. Q. I thought rather a young gentleman and an older one of your own honourable profession. Now did you not find it strange. Mr Beckford. That he owed me as a gentleman some small explanation of their presence here. Q. The case is common enough. upon so short an acquaintance? A.I know them well. I confess but idly. Mr Beckford? You know search was lately made for this lady his sister. He ventured no detail. save that the conjecture of a blood relationship did not enter my mind.suffice it to say I have thought much on it. What say you to that? A. that this London merchant . But what think you now.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I fear me. I ventured an apt line or two of the poet Ovid. plain manner. A worthy man. What manner of speaking had Mr Brown? A. Page 60 . I could not say. yet be that as it may . they are a close breed . http://www. But he was gentleman by wealth rather than breeding? A. Why a man of such seeming substance and honesty should go to such prevaricating lengths to mislead me . sir. The circumstances were not such as to provoke my incredulity. He asked me of my cure here. which was civil. sir. Q. You had no suspicion that something illicit or unseemly was afoot? sir. and none found? A. And I must tell you that when I first watched them from my window as they came to this inn. I took him at his word. I confess not. without flowers or figures. it may be on some affair of legal aspect. by way of modestly alluding to my sense that my merits are somewhat wasted in this place.processtext. Q. Q. I think he was taken somewhat at a loss. Well enough. sir. while the uncle stood by. but not of true refinement. because it was evil. I put no clear name to it. I have heard it since.

as soon as I return home. in a natural fashion . Q. I must confess myself his dupe. Q. Q. He sympathized with your views . it is possible he but played a part. sir. Does this bear root in your recollection? A. sir. He had not your manner. I have thought on that. Q. He did.since we have some skill in directing a train of discourse? I pray you. Might not this merchant uncle have been in truth a man of law . would you say. for some reason unknown. I must sow a seed of doubt in your mind.would hear more of them? A. I believe he may have led me to speak more of myself than either my natural inclination wished or strict politeness. I dc not stint the expression of my loyal abhorrences. sir. also. and how such would tolerate our nonconformists and schismatics to a most reprehensible degree. Do you not know that the City is Whig to a man? That most would never embrace what I understand to be your worthy sentiments upon religion? That respect of ancient principle. that is Mammon. you were somewhat his gull it this? A. their own profit. or such? Page 61 . I have the misfortune to be a youngest son. Yes. I can say no more. If I may put it thus bluntly. But allowing for the circumstance that he was or might have been. allows. in this conversation. not what truly lay behind? A. You would perhaps care to peruse a copy of it I chance to have retained? Q. But now. I thank you. Q. think. I confess that if invited by a sympathetic listener. to a most wicked degree. With respect. Q. obliged to conceal his ordinary manner and that you were shown but a plausible screen. A. I fear it was so that evening.html Q. Your question is well asked. sir. sir. more of his affairs or of your own? A.not as one who has affairs to hide. and even a gentleman so perspicuous and educated as yourself. in which I do myself the justice to say that I handsomely refuted the pernicious arguments of those who would deprive us of our tithes. and will flout all that doth threaten to hobble or trammel it. he was one trained to deceive. but here I believed I had stumbled upon a happy exception to this general rule. He would know of my hopes and disappointments. I should esteem that honour. Id est. And regretted he could not stay to hear a sermon I was to preach that coming Sunday. holds little place among them? That many have room for only one god in their world. We are afflicted with schism here. and even did me the honour of wishing there were more who held them as strongly. Alas. I know indeed of these matters. Mr Ayscough. in a low voice. Mr Beckford. I will have my man bring it. save that of their own secular right.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Spake you both. sir. Did you not find it strange that this merchant should show such sympathy for your own views? A. to wit. sir.processtext. and it is much on m) mind. sir? He http://www. By such hypothesis it is possible. then of the state of religion in this godless place.

I have heard idle gossip. Page 62 . He was not then here. Q. sir. Now no other peculiarities. beyond what is common knowledge? A. No rings? A. Q. Q. sit. sir. Indeed.html A. Gold? A. Q. His dress? A.processtext. Q. if you would be so kind as to guess upon his age. Of good cloth. He is here now? A. you have heard nothing subsequent to the events that is pertinent to them . A. Here. Q. Yes. A wedding band. He is returned a fortnight since to Bath. A fair complexion for his age. But nothing from other gentlemen or their families in this neighbourhood? A. Mr Beckford. I marked a wart to one side of his nose. All as one might expect in a person of such a somewhat stout in the belly. A. With some gravity. No other distinguishing characters? A. if memory serves. and too frequently to my taste. In this parish there is alas only Mr Henry Devereux to whom I may grant the appellation. I would have you describe him to me. As I say. http://www.I should add. Q. Put the right nostril. The benighted clowns hereabouts are much given to it. Heavy brows.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I found it little elegant. Now. sir. yet I thought openly. Of middling height. Forty five years are certain. Q. As one accustomed to speak his mind on public matters in public places. He took snuff. The linen clean? A. Q. sir. Q. as if he were a fair judge of men. I would guess a lustrum more. The wig somewhat in the old style. The gaze penetrating. Q. no manners you marked especially? A. I felicitate you on your memory. though somewhat pale. as it might be his travelling suit. it is everywhere. And plain. but I noticed somewhat worn.

concerning the events in question? A. Have you knowledge of other travellers in these parts being robbed or murdered .com/abclit. near seventy years now.html Q. Q. No person of refinement would happily inhabit such a region as this. There are scoundrels and pickpockets enough at Bideford. Q. Gentlemen of your own cloth? A. Q. I have heard tales of a gang of footpads near Minehead some five years past. and is my vicar in title. They are. were he not. Mr Devereux is your patron? A. There is not rich enough custom for them here.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Neither to me nor to any. is it not? Mr Fane and Colonel Mitchell are the members? A.processtext. No. Q. They came not this far afield. I live in a desart. Q. forced to it by circumstance. He would sooner have his bells rung for a good main than for divine service. And he seemed as ignorant as one might expect? A. And travelling Irish that are little better. Q. That is Canon Bullock of Exeter. I did my best to satisfy his curiosity. Of the Chapter? A. None whatsoever. Q. sir. is a gentleman who devotes his life to his garden and his glebe and allows his church to look after itself. sir. though it pains me to say it. sir. that I have knowledge of. Not in this parish or its neighbours. sir. But you spoke to him of the matter? A. I regret to say that my fellow in the cloth on one side is far more a professor of the hunting of the fox and the like than of his faith. On the other. Indeed. But I understand all are long since caught and hanged. as I. Just so. Enough of that. And they have made no enquiries. But we are strict on such Page 63 . http://www. No highwaymen? A. Q.either since or previous to your coming hither? A. who prey upon the quays. at Daccombe. Q. sir. He holds the prebend. He is old. He visits but once a year. You had no communication with the three servants? A. for the tithes. Since two years ago. Very well. But they have not honoured us since the last election. in short? They were entered unopposed? A. Quite so. Q. This is a family borough.

Because with one exception. Rest assured that I will see to it that your good offices do not go unnoticed. I act upon the strictest instructions. Only that divine retribution was exacted upon gross deceit. Q. But I will tell you. they were all murdered? A. But I shall greatly esteem it. If I do not violate delicacy. sir. As I informed you in our preliminaries. So far as the world is concerned the person in question is engaged upon a voyage in France and Italy. I do indeed. we do not know. A man who should have waited thus long to premeditate his crime . A. and then escaped by taking devious ways. A. They are soon whipped out of the parish. A. Q. Never mind. may I ask if the younger gentleman were not of noble family? Q. A. Mr Beckford. Q. Mr Ayscough.. But why should they have waited thus far from London to do the deed? And why should your victor. I must bow to your greater experience. I am most sensible of your trust. You would say. It is to this that you owe the tedious imposition of my questions. sir. I can advance no further possibility. then fell out over the booty and the maid. You mistake your comprehensive rogue. no hothead. Unless it were in the awful haste of his guilt.html here who have no passes. _videlicet__ the dead man.. if he was so cunning as to conceal the first two bodies beyond finding. He would not have acted thus. I am not at liberty to reveal the name of the person at whose behest I prosecute these enquiries. we must suppose he also had them to hide theirs. whom the victor took. in the confidence that I may rely on your utmost discretion. Have you formed any opinion as to what happened on the first of May? A. http://www. sir. You have assisted me more than you may know. Q. I have heard it proposed that the two servants were in league and did murder their masters. Q. I must beg leave to admire that you know so little of his companion. I cannot tell. I have had dealings with too many of that brotherhood not to know they are far more concerned for their mortal skins than their eternal souls. that it is the fate of he who called himself Mr Bartholomew that is my concern. Where he found these. Q. I leave tomorrow to pursue my quarry elsewhere. There is nothing. and especially were he of noble birth. I would not do to oblige a deceived parent. sir. I can say no more. sir. Since he was secret in all and hid his own true name. You perceive my task is no small A. sir. Such indeed was his declared intention before his departure from London.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Mr Beckford. Page 64 . not conceal the third the same? A. should you chance to hear of any further information in the affair. that you will at once communicate it to me at Lincoln's Inn.processtext. those who came with him here were not those he had engaged for his supposed voyage. Q.

the 4th Augt. Mr Beckford. Amen to Dr Pettigrew. Would that it were not my unhappy duty to inform Your Grace that my journey west has met with success in the least.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. that is. subterfuge and deceit are to those of mine. I must obey. and I have spoke also with his clerk. nor those of his three unknown companions on his journey. has affirmed all within his cognizance and recollection. but defeat in the greatest matter. I will not suffer them in my parish. and here we have none. moreover according in all other report of appearance and manner. as certain proof of some far greater tragedy. sir. More to the purpose I have had searched by two dozen sharpeyed fellows. Those who would place such burden upon it are ignorant. Jurat die tricesimo et uno Jul. The testimonies I enclose for Your Grace's perusal will I doubt not lead him to conclude that of the true person of Mr Bartholomew there can be no room for mistake. and most particularly when it is grounded not solely (which Yr Grace may consider sufficient in itself) upon the portrait entrusted to me. to whom I beg leave to present my humblest compliments) not to take the discovery of Thurlow's end at _prima facie__ seeming. Their hypothesis requires a body. I'll not rest till all's laid bare. But since it was Yr Grace's most express command that he should be spared nothing of what I might find. but I sift small. http://www. A. who rode out upon the first report. anno supradicto coram me Henry Ayscough Barnstaple. neither the noble person of such interest to Yr Graces. I shall find the bottom to this.processtext. Your Grace. the doctor (who is aged) being indisposed when it fell. the Coroner.html Q. _Non est inventus__. since they but largely repeat what is here sent. sir. I have not troubled Yr Grace with some several further testimonies I have sought and undertaken. May Heaven concur in granting us both our prayers. fearful people. I must beseech Your Grace (and his august consort. well-versed in loco and Page 65 . but the particular circumstance of a servant without speech or hearing. more apt (_omne ignotum pro magnifico est__) for the most part to see the Devil's hand in all than to weigh with reason. I work slow. What heresy is to gentlemen of your cloth.

They know not the pronominal nor its conjugation. of strictest principle. non obstante such being the case. to gain a better living. all f’s grow v’s: 'tis a most foul-ravelled Boeotian. and buildings beside.processtext. for there will be no corn for grindstones. Even were it if Yr Grace will pardon the expression. and given no clew whatsoever as to his most eminent rank. for this is the favoured Page 66 . In truth I remain at a loss to suggest to Yr Grace what need his Lordship had for these three superadded persons in his train. in which he played a subordinate part to the supposed uncle. if he will still credit that oracular appendage. To Dr Pettigrew alone I have told near truth. that is said out of living memory. In all of this Yr Grace may likewise be assured that the discretion he enjoined has been most scrupulously observed.) The common people are more secret than ours. smut and the mildew being in league to take all first. an unless it be upon a great filthy barren hill named Ex-moo whence the river Exe takes its source. Yr Grace once did me the honour of saying he placed as great trust upon my nose as upon that of his favourite hound. it tells me that he whom search both lives and breathes.html under promise of good reward. may assure Yr Grace that _auspicium melioris aevi__ a blank covert was drawn in every quarter. and may be trusted. 'Tis possible this coming to Devon is no more than a hare's double. http://www. tho' I cannot deny the purpose of his presence in this county is most difficult I unfold. yet neither can I conceive what might have drawn his Lordship. so contrary to all his tastes and proclivities. all that place where the chest was found. upon ends unknown. this last grown greater since the new peace. powder I blind other eyes. All here is at this present the more displeasing for this last month's continued rains. understand why their flight should not have been straight to Dover or some place more contiguous for France. There where his footsteps were last seen is not unlike some of Yr Grace's ruder an more bosky dales. and hath done much damage to hay and growing corn alike. some also with France. that gentleman would be as high a Tory as ever Sacheverell was. He'd turn Mahometan tomorrow. When need hath driven. I have declared myself Mercury to Jupiter. was _ad captandum vulgum__. 'tis clear. I doubt not. were not all bishops Whigs. and I have yet. I can but surmise that he deemed a party of five. beyond Mr Beckford. where Thurlow was found. not an inch. steward to one who reaches far. and shall be found. rather than to these most disconvenient (for the purpose) parts. as Yr Grace will recall. that might explain the maid. There is none of his Lordship's acquaintance that I inquired upon before proceeding here to account for the pretended uncle and his man. I cannot suppose that the scandal of such an elopement would not by now have been cried about. was not searched again. Nor is there person of education at the miserable place where last his Lordship lodged. the which my clerk hath endeavoured to spare Yr Grace the expression of. and her outward seeming mask upon a lady. lacking all scent to it. My further inquisitions both at Bideford and in this town whence I have the honour to address Yr Grace have met no more success than those of Dr Pettigrew. It is to be presumed that to travel alone with his man had best suited the secrecy of his intent. speaking of he and she indifferently as her (_aitchum non amant__). Yet must I now deem it certain his Lordship was here. no opinion thereon.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. that this is no common case of disappearance. more favourable to throw off pursuit. and as closely. he is a worthy gentleman. ('Tis said in sad jest that it matters not so many mills be ruined. The pretext given. that lies some few miles t the north. I trust Yr Grace will accept my belief that little remains to be discovered in these parts. and over a much wider extent. for his quicker comprehension. of we as us. Not a bush. Nor. _idem__. and all about. tho' less elevated in their heights. nor. Both Bideford and Barnstaple have frequent trade with Wales and Ireland. their language most obscure and uncouth. into this dull and barbarous western land. did I then discover suspicion or noise of any clandestine and illicit attachment on his Lordship's part. if such for some reason were feared. and more tree'd than bemoored (save where 'tis pasture for sheep). I have inquired and no French-bound ship sailed (though several for Newfoundland and New England. Portugal and Cadiz.

He did press upon me a copy of Gay's eclogues. call but yesterday upon one Mr Robert Luck. of any other such as he that a London virtuoso might wish to seek out. it once done. Mr Samuel Day. not making enquiry upon the loss. and that (it may be) the man in his natural deficiencies imperfectly understood his Lordship's reasons. Mr Luck proved ill luck. Even should such a matter be the _primum mobile__ of his Lordship's journey. I have considered much on this. of which he remains inordinate proud. Henry Ayscough Page 67 . But I will weary Yr Grace no further with such conjecture. that is master of the grammar school here and accounted a learned that is. 'Tis evident that his Lordship brought papers and an instrument of his favoured study upon his journey. Tomorrow I shall for Taunton. Yr Grace will. that were imprinted these twenty years past under the title of the Shepherd's Week.processtext. Yr Grace knows me well enough.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and likewise was pressed upon me by this rhyming pedagogue a copy of some verses by himself. since I am in haste not to delay the expedition of this packet. have been thus conducted. concerning which he has communicated with the Royal Society and Sir H. As to my inquiry. 'Twas he who taught the late Mr Gay his letters. among others. closer than Bristol. to believe that _quo fata trahunt. Sloane. sequamur__. for I know with what expectation it is attended. nor knew. I thought therefore also to inquire whether any _curiosi__ of the mathematick or astronomick sciences resided in this neighbourhood. I own I cannot conceive why it should. or at the least. he could say nothing to the point. I fear that there too Yr Grace's servant found himself left _in tenebris__. with so harmless a purpose. and inordinate blind to all that is seditious in this his ancient pupil's work. I trust. Through Dr Pettigrew's good offices I attended on one such at Barnstaple. http://www. that is new published by Cave and he says has been noticed in his magazine. and good gossip besides. and with that every diligence which Yr Grace's past favours have lain as a hallowed duty upon ever his most humble and obedient servant. I trust. forgive me for not here and now expatiating upon it. a gentleman of private fortune. on the great improbability of such a fond master provoking the ghastly deed. and so took his life in despair. nor would my respect for Yr Grace dare risk raising hopes upon too small a ground. and there take coach without delay for London. both which volumes I dispatch with this for Yr Grace's eyes. I can account for it but by supposing his Lordship obliged for some reason to turn Thurlow off and to continue his travels alone.html season) from either place in the first two weeks of May. which I might wish a veritable winged Mercury to bear to Yr Grace's hands. Yet must I count such round-about to refuge little probable. Your Grace will doubtless mark the testimony of the serving-girl. it shall at once be communicated. and amateur of the natural sciences. should he deign to bend them to such paltry stuff. likewise upon advice of Dr Pettigrew. to prosecute a suspicion I have gained. doth maintain to be a most truthful portrait of this northern part of Devon. But to my particular inquiries he could answer nothing of import. I did also. after his Lordship had departed from him. like in all else. and that Mr L. Should such ground prove larger. Your Grace knows better than I the attachment between his Lordship and Thurlow. nor could think of any study only to be satisfied by observation in this neighbourhood. an encumbrance little consonant with an elopement or sentimental assignation.

'Tis thought here the mobility is consequent upon the Gin Act.. sir. at a little distance. which almost dwarfs him. which give. upon a wall of still green leaves. He therefore clears his throat. I attend to meet your client.processtext. This is flanked by silver candlesticks. who reads behind a round table in a far corner of the room does not look up from whatever he reads. a sheaf of paper and writing materials neatly laid ready upon it. Mr Francis Lacy shows himself somewhat at a loss at this reception. and the riotings of the mob but a week since at Shoreditch. He is evidently a few years his visitor's senior. At last the figure at the table looks up. like a robin alert to prey. and speaks again. 'I have the honour to address Mr Ayscough? Mr Francis Lacy at your command. nor is the fire-grate below. but merely lays down his papers and leans back a little in his armed and highbacked chair. the wart on the side of his nose. as requested.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. that all resent. silence. 'Be seated.' Most strangely the little lawyer does not offer any courtesy in exchange. Mr Luck did impart to me news fresh arrived from London of the most disgraceful verdict at Edinburgh against Captain Porteous.' 'Sir. One wall of it is mostly taken up with cased tomes of precedent. then slightly tilts his head. although physically his marked inferior. There is a quizzical. and folds his arms.. the rather too studiedly imposing carriage.' Page 68 . of the puny build of a Pope or a Voltaire. since an upper sash is down. The man in the door raises his hat with a hint of a polite flourish. He assumes a forgetfulness in the man of law. with the heavy brows. From somewhere outside. there sounds the faint yet melodious voice of a woman crying first pearmains (for it is their season).A. before the cases stands a tall writing-desk and stool. http://www. and slightly inclines. in the practised manner of one who has no phlegm to lose. The man in the doorway glances round.html Post-scriptum. but whoever conducted him to this point has mysteriously disappeared. stands with his walking-cane in the doorway of the woodpanelled chamber in Lincoln's Inn. sir. frail and bewigged man in black. but in the room. 'The Thespian. THE MAN IN the dove-grey suit and discreetly flowered waistcoat stretched over an incipient belly. H. The very small. A morning sunlight shafts the room's warm peace from its south-facing windows . but a laggard attention to draw. a temporary inability to place. Opposite gleams a marble mantelpiece on which sits a bust of Cicero. rolls and parchments. not in present use. the both which I know will alarm Yr almost glistening fixity in the gaze of his grey eyes.' At last the lawyer speaks.

'Be seated.' Lacy places two pinches on the snuff cushion of his left hand and sniffs them in. then extends it. stands with his back to the door. Lacy looks back down at the diminutive lawyer. also in black. shows a humourless smile. then he sits bolt upright. sir? It is best Devizes.' ‘Sir?' 'Is she not the muse of dance?' 'I am no dancing-master. 'And shall soon be as familiar to the cognoscenti of Tyburn. the sound of the door behind being firmly closed makes him turn. http://www. Mr Rich.' He waits for some polite agreement. In which you shall jig upon the scaffold.html And the actor advances towards a chair on the opposite side of the table.' The lawyer. his cane held to one side. 'May I ask if his muse is laughing Thalia. at the same time extracting a lace handkerchief. with regained aplomb. Few can rival my experience. though I say it with modesty. who has not unfolded his arms. but the cue is not taken. 'Then by your leave.' 'No mistake. 'I am an actor. It is called The Steps and the String. even my critics do me the honour of granting that. 'Do you partake. Ill at ease. then snaps close and replaces the box in his pocket. with which he dabs his nostrils. a leatherbound quarto book in one hand. sir.processtext. the latter feels in his waistcoat pocket and produces a silver snuffbox. My talents are familiar to all the cognoscenti of this city. though markedly more sardonic. or rather grave Melpomene?' 'His muse is Terpsichore. 'Your client has a dramatic effusion upon which he seeks my advice?' 'He does. like a heron turned crow.' Ayscough shakes his head. my friend. There is a silence. For the pantomime you must seek my friend. I fear you who repeats his previous phrase. at the end of Jack Ketch's rope. sir.' 'He has chosen well. He opens. My client has written a piece for you. His stare is as intent as his master's. A tall and silent clerk. 'Is this an impertinent jest. sir?' Page 69 .' Lacy parts his coat-tails and sits. sir. or Twang-dang-dillo-dee.' Lacy draws himself up a little.' There is a moment's shock on Lacy's face. Before he reaches and can sit on it.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and still the lawyer will not leave the actor with his eyes.

'And do not try your hollow airs upon me. where I lay. sir. He simply lifts the book he holds in front of him. as if he wished himself among them. I have been where you were. The lawyer's voice speaks sharply. beside the Cathedral. Would you have her so great a liar as yourself?' 'I will not deny I chanced to be in Exeter. I have sworn affidavits as to your exact appearance. and exhibiting the cross stamped on its leather cover. 'Item.' He stands and turns to march towards the door. This is a chamber of the law. No playhouse.' The lawyer extends a small hand and.' 'It may be proven no lie. who still waits there. begins counting his authority on his fingers. forsooth.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Do I make myself plain?' Once again the actor looks away from those where you can strut in a tawdry crown and awe a crowd of gaping dolts with your rodomontadoes. sirrah!' Lacy glances back. There is a small silence. Mr Brown. 'You are smoked out. which came to nothing.processtext. 'No jest .html The little lawyer stands. as if he cannot credit their sudden sternness. Lacy. http://www. down to that very growth I perceive upon your right nostril. and draws himself up. I have marched in your mendacious footsteps. through the nearest window and at the green leaves.. I have inquired and you were not in London at the time in question. not leaving the actor's eyes. It is not so long since that your kind were publicly flogged for their pains. By Heavens.. his hands on the table. holding it there with both hands.' 'I'll not discuss with you. For servant you had one Farthing. Item. And by whom. and no longer has any smile.' The actor stares back at the fierce eyes. does not shift. Ask at the Ship. I have not done with other items. pray? None other than your wife. 'My name is -' 'Four months since in the county of Devon you passed as Brown.. and leans a fraction towards his victim. Do you dare to deny it?' The actor looks abruptly away. I advise you to put your buskins by.' 'On what business?' 'Upon promise of an engagement . against his breast. Item. Item.' 'You lie. I take my leave. The clerk. a Page 70 . 'You extravagate. or his own ears. my clerk behind you has spoken with one who called on some matter at your lodging at the said time and was told you was upon private business in the West Country. At last his eyes turn back. no jest.. 'I would have your authority to address me thus. you impudent rogue.

Lacy. for breaking your engagement.' Page 71 .' 'What.' 'You were Fustian. sir. sir. until the non-week? A piece called Pasquin by an arrant rogue. I had that honour. these seven or eight years past?' 'I took a small part. sir. How long had it run. a servant both deaf and dumb.April 17th.processtext. I am told. to your supposed nephew.. and here before me!' At the word 'dead' the actor has looked up. sir.upon promise of an engagement?' The actor stands silent. named Robin of Bagshot? And your wife no better . that I doubt she found it trouble to impersonate?' 'Sir. to take a part that made a footpad and felon of the most eminent commoner in this nation. at the Haymarket little theatre?' 'It is well known. I most indignantly protest your last aspersion. He is silent a moment. to please Mr Gay. All London saw it.was she not in that same piece Dolly Trull. You are mysteriously not there. The longest run since its equal in impertinence. one Topham. The Beggar's Opera.a large part?' 'Yes. For there is worse yet. http://www.. and far better than you suppose. Thirty-five. under great suspicion of further foul murder done by persons hitherto unknown . this last March and April. was it not. I forget. like everything else in these sacrilegious times that has the effrontery to mock the constitution. when the Easter week came . your fine part is played by someone else. But found dead. sir. 'Did you not play a main part in an impudent new satire. As I know what happened when they return to resume with Pasquin on the 26th of April last. Mr Bartholomew. to go to Exeter upon promise of an engagement? You were bought away. sir.html Welsh fellow not worth his name. sir. ' is it not so? And I know the lying excuse you gave. indeed! Is that honour. dead?' The lawyer slowly sits back down in his chair. and I know by whom.but now known. You had one other with you. sir. We were friends. And what's that to you? Were you not in Exeter at the time . one Louise. that you stopped?' 'Some thirty performances. a shameless trollop.' 'No. I have witnesses to it. one Fielding. Well may you cast your eyes down. you don't know? Were you not also in that piece. I know you. its chief minister besides? Were you not that most wicked and scurrilous travesty of Sir Robert Walpole. and for the first time without semblance of artifice. in which you had a handsome share. You also carried with you one who passed as a maidservant. That servant is not disappeared. My wife -' 'A fig for your wife. were you not .' 'A great success. sizing his man.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. 'How . Then he poises his fingertips together and speaks in a less peremptory voice.' 'Honour. was it not?' 'It is possible. Am I to believe that you forsook the triumph of the season.

I knew Mr Gay well.' 'Plea me no pleas. Mr Cibber the poet laureate. foolishness in what happened. She had no part whatsoever in this. but you see an honest man before you. no shame to my profession.html The actor has stood at an oblique angle. his head slightly his friend the Duchess of Queensberry too.. If I had known at the beginning what I came to know finally . 'I have committed no crime. Mr Quin. I believed it a harmless subterfuge in pursuit of a worthy and pitiable end. 'I feared it might be so. I met him most often at Grosvenor Street. the virtuous Mrs Bracegirdle. listening to this. I give no credit.' The actor returns to his chair and sits heavily. watching him.' He raises a stern finger. Or he and I will have you broken into as many shards as a china pot. All will speak for me. I must pray you to believe that. and looks to the floor. and her most august husband. But not of evil intent or action.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. He shakes his head. . in the last week of this April past?' 'I have a right to know what bears upon my answer to that. a simpler man. then in chains to Devon. grossly deceived.' 'You will not deny you were bought to accompany a person called Mr Bartholomew on his journey west. and we may see. 'You will not credit me.' 'You may ask of me.. Admit you are who I say. sir. I know nothing of .' Again he is not answered. that I am no Thomas Walker. sir?' 'I was deceived. I will swear to that. without pretence.not one tittle omitted. 'I have offended some great person?' Still the lawyer says nothing. He has but to nod. http://www. I know Mr Rich of Goodman's Fields. 'Well. He for whom I proceed shall decide. And from the beginning. Now he looks back at the lawyer. what you tell me.. That I was guilty of credulity. his gaze intent. alas I cannot deny. You shall curse the day that you were born. and you are dust.' Page 72 . 'I will tell you your right. I'll have all . tell all under oath. without omission.' The lawyer says nothing.' 'I shall determine that. 'But I warn you. sir. for the next assize. sir.' 'To the estimable Mrs Lacy you are unjust.' He looks up. before Mrs Oldfield died. Deny me still and I will have you straight from this room to Newgate. except upon facts. I am well known in my profession.' The little lawyer is silent for a moment. I had the honour of General Charles Churchill's friendship. 'What am I to do?' 'Make oath and tell.

two houses above the Flying Angel. On what occasion did you last see him? A. Q. grandson to John Lacy. Knew you Mr Bartholomew was under false name? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. in the parish of St Giles. of August in the tenth year of the reign of our sovereign Lord George the second. Knew you who he truly was? A. Before all else you shall answer me this.html The Examination and Deposition of _Francis Lacy __the which doth attest upon his sworn oath. I did not. to this day.processtext. Q. The first of May last. and do not. I am fifty-one years of age. http://www. Page 73 . I was born in London. I did. MY NAME is Francis Lacy. whom King Charles favoured. Q. by the grace of God King of Great Britain and of England. Do you know where he is now? A. this three and twentieth day . &c. I do not. Q. I dwell at Hart Street near the Garden. I am an

Would to God that I did know. For now. There was a packet within. I remember its terms. A. It was in the middle of April last. but as Philocomoedia. nor had news whatsoever of him through any other party? A. So do I speak. with a letter for me from his master. A day or two before it was to close for Easter. the man Dick came one forenoon to my house in Hart Street. To the point. the circumstances are so embroiled. A. A. nor held communication with him.html Q. Q. At my house. when I shall. I know no more of them. a part in which I flatter myself Q. Then that he would be greatly favoured if I would meet him. if I might explain Q. containing five guineas. who signed himself not by name. May Heaven strike me down upon the instant. A. And Heaven help you if you lie. A. On that we may agree. I beg you to believe. It is a strange tale. Never mind your flattery. solely for the pleasure of studying my talents. Q. sir. You have this epistle still? A. Commence. and from the beginning. I deem it to the point. sir. A. Now I will hear all. What of them? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. as he had a matter of Page 74 . sir.processtext. sir. Q. You are upon oath. Now I ask the same of your other two companions – your man and the maid. http://www. I must seem foolish in it. and also that until this day I knew nothing of the death of the servant. It is little germane. As you know. You shall explain. In my own defence I must tell as I took matters at the time. sir. The letter asked me to accept them as a token of esteem for my performance. Continue. But in good time. You remain accessary to the crime. that the piece was most favourably received and my playing noticed. But I remind you that ignorance of consequence is no plea in court. The writer claimed he had seen the piece three times. Very well. since that same day. Q. May I ask Q. Q. I most solemnly swear. I played Fustian in young Mr Fielding's Pasquin. on which the writer paid me some more particular compliments. such as they are. you also swear you do not know where these two may be found? A. Not as I later learnt them to be. I do. You may not. You swear that since that first day of May you have neither seen.

And smelt more guineas to come. and by no means spurn our company. I ventured to presume that this was one such. There I met Mr Bartholomew. Roscius sallied out to earn his fee. My profession is less richly rewarded than yours. Q. Were you not surprised? Are not the females in your calling the more customary recipients of such golden requests for assignations? A. I did. yes. Trevelyan's Coffee-house. What next? A. and are not above seeking our advice and support in seeing their effusions mounted. Yes. A. I was conducted to a private room. was at the door of Trevelyan's in wait for me. he renewed the compliments of his letter. Page 75 . sir. And you said yes? A. this mute fellow Dick. tho' he held himself ready to suit my convenience. He so presented himself. sir. Alone? A. but from his voice 1 judged him from the North-east. What time and place? A. Yes. Q. I may assure you. I won't deny I found the present handsome. I have myself Englished from the French. sir. sir. Q. Confessed himself a stranger in London and to the theatre till recently. Q. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. A time and place were proposed. sir. So do they speak from Yorkshire north. His man. Q. he asked me of my self and other parts I had the morrow morning. We sat. My _The Cit Grown Beau__ from Moliere was Q. He made no pretence there.processtext. I was not. He was not: more precise. Arrived from where? A. Seemed he one of your cognoscenti? A. Q. and with success.html mutual benefit to broach. Q. Alone. From the North. Under this name? A. Q. Many gentlemen take pleasure in conversing upon the dramatic and histrionic arts. Others aspire themselves to the bays. http://www. It would not have been the first I have had such commerce with. Not all have your poor opinion of the stage. and hitherto taken up with other interests. Honest guineas.

Mr Lacy. Very well. and unused to not dealing frankly with all he met. having spoken overlong of my own history. and thought him at first to jest. whatever the receipts. as one obliged to take a new course. There at last he turned upon me. and asked me to forgive him. He claimed had much neglected the arts since leaving university. And of his supposed family? A. Once again lie appeared confused and would not answer.some surprise. I requested to know what kind of part. I made a polite inquiry there. sir. he says. sir. perchance more. I confess I was somewhat taken aback. I remember his reply verbatim. as if cast deep in thought. neither for one performing. thus making a round hundred for my service to him. he would happily offer another thirty guineas for my acceptance. as you shall hear. So said he. for I know you are engaged at the Little Theatre. He asked me what I should say. though Q Enough. that he had written some piece he would hear me declaim for him. Very well. however. to playing a part for him alone. I explained our way of dividing receipts and put it at a mean for my share of five guineas the week. He replied. but for several days. that might take a fortnight in all.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. he says. I might hardly credit my ears. as I perceive it would take you no trouble to act. I will judge of my time. let me put my part at five guineas the day. for I am desperate pressed. Q. and I must make it worth your while to leave. that he was younger son of a baronet. but wished to disclose no more. and the season likewise near its end. A. he said. I prayed him to be more particular. One I should give you. I would not waste your Q. yet that may be to your I have need of one. My friend Mr Topham had taken my part for two days earlier when I was indisposed. I have someone I must see. He began in hypothetick vein. He stood and went to a window. http://www. for we now touched upon the more serious matter of our meeting. Tell as you were told. Q. and not without some plaudit. A grave and creditable person. I thought we had come then to the nub of it. I must tell you further I knew Pasquin was very nigh played out. Then he said. I was soon undeceived. with I thought a somewhat embarrassed face. for our receipt was falling. and I must ask it for this end of month. he further declared that since I must travel to play the part. some entertainment he intended to gratify his neighbours and family with in his native province. For as I hesitated. Tell. were I suitably rewarded. and the more when he went on to ask how much I took for my part at the Haymarket. Which I came to discern was a frequent thing in all his conversation. The naturalsciences. sir. To the point. Very well.html Q. since you are thus by nature. he said. Thereupon he said. you were tempted. as we say. my Page 76 . I thanked him for the compliment. but declared myself at a loss to guess why he should need such a companion. but say it should not be here and now. so said I was sure I should be pleased to serve him in such a thing. Here was I offered to gain in a fortnight what I should not despise for a six-month of endeavour. But he was not. I am not so well circumstanced that I could lightly turn up my nose at such an untoward offer. and suffer other inconvenience. I thought in addition that I conceived what he would be at . I must tell you that all that followed was proven false. to go with me on a journey. A. I come to that.processtext. should you consider that worthy of your powers? I was the so dumbfounded at such prodigious handsomeness. Mr Lacy. very far from it. And these other interests? A. Mr Ayscough. he was driven to subterfuge against his nature. A.

He said. therefore I must make my journey under some colour of false circumstance. she was ten years older than Mr Bartholomew. In short. However. upon which his father had set his heart. Mr Bartholomew. Q. almost without knowing why he went beyond his most violent need to see his loved one again and assure her of his abomination of this other proposed marriage. sir. He confessed he did it without forethought. their common ardours were increased. I give it you word by word. But a month before. where her guardian's estate lies. and what was far worse. and there are those who would prevent me. for the lady was rich and had lands settled on her that his father coveted. To which he added most vehemently that there was nothing of discredit or dishonour in what he wished. and told not to return until he had cooled his temper and learnt his filial duty. http://www.processtext.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. all his future prospects would be forfeit. though I omit some colour and minor circumstance. Proceed. which I would try to And placed in bond? A. No mere attachment. and had estate in title.html life depends on it. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. though not so rich as she of his father's choice. Q. Her name? A. Precisely so. he attempted to force the matter by going to the West. With the further threat that should he pursue the course he was on. None was ever mentioned. he said. However. Q. was neither without sufficient wealth nor breeding. I do. Alas. I was somewhat astonished. and confidante of the young lady's feelings. he still could not have obeyed his parent. A. I am a victim of unjust and unkind fate. and half dead of it. It came to high words. Mr Ayscough. and infinitely surpassed her in other charms. Her plight was this. I put it to you as it was put to me. to solicit his assistance and approval. they had been able to maintain a surreptitious correspondence by means of a maid. his father not being one to brook denial. upon majority. Eventually in despair Mr Bartholomew revealed the matter to his own parent. since the lady of his heart. Mr Bartholomew informed me that his interest had been discovered. of a sentimental attachment. Q. A. as you may suppose. He smiled sadly at that. still refusing the other alliance. I am in love. In his very own words. he had formed an ardent interest in a young lady then in town with her uncle and guardian. Sentiment proved no match for paternal ambition. He then came to London and fired by both love and a sense of injustice. that previous October. Q. Upon which the young lady was promptly removed to Cornwall. they lay adjacent to his own estate. and his family. I said I presumed we spoke of a lady. The young lady was orphan. He told me then of a stern and obstinate father and of an alliance designed for him. Lacy. her uncle and guardian had a marriageable son. When was this? A. Q. then. you perceive the case. was commanded out of paternal house and home. for in London. that she should never be expunged from his heart and - Page 77 . And next? A. the ugliest old maid for fifty miles about. Thereupon he informed me that even had she been the most beautiful. the otherwise happy circumstance that his attentions had been warmly reciprocated.

For his father. Yet he greatly feared some rumour of this supposed change of heart would come to the uncle and thence to the young lady. To which was added that the maid who had served in their previous correspondence had been dismissed. Now come to the business. Q. and travel under a false name. Mr Ayscough. since both his own natural affection and his father's wishes inclined to the same end. her cousin. sit. would not force the issue as his father wanted. I see the pretext. and was determined to return there. it seems? A. not alone and . For the uncle. All his inquiries were to no avail. sir. and proposed that my part should extend no further than to within Page 78 . a letter awaited him. Mr Bartholomew declared that he knew they were now gone back to the estate. He knew not how. What said he to that? A. should he be successful in his This time he would conceal his coming. and the greater part by public coach. since their relations had been affectionate enough before this rupture. And that I foresaw very unpleasant consequences. He arrived to find he had been forestalled. and perhaps some noise of it had reached ears hostile to his interests. Then too he had travelled under his own name. but would not dare prosecute the matter. I confess I was flattered by his confidences. and now suspected advice of his coming may have travelled ahead. perhaps some letter had been intercepted. You swallowed this cock-and-bull whole. for it seems the uncle rules all in those parts. If he had seemed to me some young deceiver. I told Mr Bartholomew he had my sympathy. in which the young lady stated very plain that their removal had been against her every desire. who though he loved her well enough. He waited a week in vain. A. and his intentions. that her uncle was in a great fury with her and daily using all means in his power to impel the marriage to his son. Very well. Spare me the tender protestations. He assured me he wished no future blame attributable to any save himself. when he arrived the house was empty. He won you to his cause? A. Q. that he felt sure he could be brought to forgiveness in time.html brief. nor would any there tell him where the family had gone. Facile credimus quad volumus__. Sir. He admitted he had foolishly spoken on the matter in London with friends. except that they had left in great haste the day previous. and he must know what public disclosure might show of his own conduct and selfish aim. sir. Yet she feared he could not hold out much longer in this small mercy. some practised rake . Q. Go on.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.. However it may be. who might take it as truth. I assure you he did not. Q. that his cruelties to his niece. That is the kernel of it. and in despair. were too gross to have escaped notice. Therefore he must act with celerity.. but not all the treasure in Spain would induce me to stoop to a criminal undertaking. That her one present hope lay in this cousin. A. For that reason he had pretended to the same intimates as before that he had given up all hope of the young lady and was now reconciled to obeying his father. That he might huff and puff if his niece fled his roof. as you seemingly know. They conveyed to my ears the accent of truth. He had thought on the matter. He thus retreated back to London. There. As if for some other purpose. http://www. that she (her mistress) was now without friend or confidante. A. Q_. I still had scruples.

Q. Enough. If she considers an engagement below me.I would say. Q. http://www. She approved? A. I cannot deny my heart and ancient memory somewhat blinded my eyes.processtext. What passed thereafter was not my affair. I found another and even darker veil remained. He would then proceed alone with his man. What next? A. Proceed. that he had early confessed the one given me was false. for the reason just stated. I was merely. You persist in misjudging me. At Trevelyan's again. sir. and to throw himself with his bride at his father's feet. When Mr Bartholomew spoke of his troubles. then to return. Mrs Lacy and I also did not wait upon parental blessing. well. Did you not ask his true name? A. Not to put too fine a point on it. in the same room. I wished to discuss it with Mrs Lacy. He intended to ride out the storm in France.. concerning the playing my part. if the matter became public. even somewhat grave for his years. as is my habit in all that appertains to my life. Let us hear these sentiments. That the less I knew. though I know now I was being duped and gulled. to safe conduct him to the threshold. Q. He politely refused this. That he was a serious young man. of his sincerity in his cause. Lacy. I cannot say he spake in general with much outward feeling of his attachment. I forgot to say. To say nothing of a father's right to bestow his son's hand where he pleases.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. I requested a night to reflect on his proposal. Mr Ayscough. yet I formed the impression that it was deep and virtuous in intent. no doubt? A. _et coetera__. as he put it. I will not take by which time I had spoken with Mr Topham also. Q. It may be a sin by the book. his wife's majority once attained. I say this. A. That I might claim ignorance of his real purpose. Then do you not persist in suggesting you were not a hired instrument in a criminal offence. I wished to know more of Mr Bartholomew and his circumstances. a duly appointed guardian is another.html a day's ride of his destination. Page 79 . but mine. sir. And even when the veil was lifted from my eyes . To raise the fee. Q. but its fruits have been a Christian and most happy marriage. I thought of my own greener years. Q. After she had helped me examine my sentiments concerning Mr Bartholomew . Cupid is one thing. I will come to that. sir. Mrs Lacy's parents no more approved my profession than you do. Q. I put on some semblance of uncertainty at first. sir. maintaining that it was not only for his own protection.. the less harm might come of it. I have learnt to value her opinion. Had he some plan of elopement? A. A. Q. I say this not in excuse. Upon his most solemn word he would not ask me to take any direct part in an elopement. You met on the morrow? A.

That furthermore. I had doubts. sir. Q. You are to guess nothing. and which Mr Bartholomew did think would cause great stir. Q. yet implied as much: that there were those who would spare no pains to thwart his attachment and his intention therein. so estranged had they become. He seemed little used to London ways. A. not at this time.html I took it favourably that he did not attempt to impose on me in this. Q. Then. the Monday next. You did understand. Did you never find his manner disconsonant with that of a mere country gentleman? A. his of my nephew. Very well. that there were spies set upon him? A. violence formed no part of them. behind what he would seem. our ostensible purpose the visiting of Q. should I wish. or those of the young lady's.processtext. whatever his plans might be beyond this point. http://www. I conjectured the former. and an impatience with his part. that did think as their father in all. I know of that. and make our leaving the less likely to be marked. That like his father he placed the acquiring of a fortune and handsome estate above the satisfaction of Page 80 . He gave no evidence. Q. and with whom Mr Bartholomew said he was scarce on speaking terms. even though I could not guess what he was. He wished we should set out a week thence. Am I to guess that Q. those of his own family. For he did speak once of an elder brother. Most earnestly. Which assurance he gave? A. Now. Q. Just so. Answer my question. The supposed aunt at Bideford? A. which you will doubtless recall was the day before his Highness the Prince of Wales was to join hands with the Princess of Saxe-Gotha. He could not hide a certain assurance. To your story. sir. as he claimed. I requested his repeated assurance that my obligations to him would cease at the point he proposed. the twenty-sixth of April. Come to the practice. A. My guise would be that of a London merchant. They had become estranged for the reason that this elder brother dutifully obeyed his father's wishes? A. that is. under the same name of Mr Bartholomew. Q. I knew him more than a country squire's son.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. He offered to swear it upon the Bible. Q. You were of different opinion later? A. did he lead you to believe that he was watched. A. sir. her guardian? A.

http://www. Q. if you would have me exact. and I asked. David Jones. Mr Bartholomew asked if I knew of a person I could trust.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. someone of quick wits. I Page 81 . at least in this. Q. He is Welsh by origin. Know you where he lived? A. Q. to guard us down against highwaymen and the like. without our knowledge. Only a punch-house he frequented in Berwick Street. He is even more innocent than I am. And you say. I have not. H. He would have been so once. When he ran off. A. Q. I met a man in the street but ten days since. We talk of Farthing? A. He has not been seen. Let us come to that in place. At Swansea. Q. I believe. Q.html natural affection. sir. You have not seen him since? Nor heard of or from him? A. able to play a part and also be of service on the roads. at least in this? A. His failing is strong drink. On occasion he has taken small clowning or menial parts. Q. for any but smallest either with you or Mr Bartholomew? A. Not since the day previous. you have not seen him since the first of May? A. Q. But he never got his lines well enough. There was question of a servant for me. but I know not if this is truth. His name? A. I first knew him when he was doorkeeper at Drury Lane. And he too had not seen or heard news of him. Why say you. we thought to employ him further. Q. You have said nothing of the man Farthing or the maid.processtext. he said in a note to me that it was to see his mother in Wales. He was passably received. nor if he be there. these four months past. even when sober. lie has some skills at the droll. He told me once she was keeper of a wretched alehouse. His name? A. where I have also several times inquired since I returned. Upon my word. Q. did not. He did not go on. He is an actor too? A. Yes. For he ran away in the night. but lie was dismissed that post for negligence. he played me the porter in Shakespeare's Macbeth one day when we were in straits through sickness and could find none better. it is common in our profession. who knows him well. alas. One such occurred to me.

Q. A. But I saw her not. can carry arms and look bold. nor could have done. I obtained him a post when he was dismissed his office at Drury Lane. as we say. though he did not merit it.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. that he took to his heels when it was well-nigh earned. Q. till we Page 82 . Coachman to the late Mrs Oldfield. He is more shiftless than rogue. sir. more newly chairman. is skilled with horses. He is a well-built fellow. whatever his appearance and even in his cups. He was told all? A. lie was too often drunk. And what services had you done him? A. But she was obliged to give him his wages. had he even the powers. a drunken sergeant in Mr Farquhar's The Recruiting Officer. And that is not the least mystery of the affair. Q. Very well. Q. and so was the actress.html can help you no more. Q. http://www. to accomplish this our present design. What post? A. He owed me services. None. under false names. Q. You engaged him? A. save one for earnest. He met the part. I brought him to meet Mr Bartholomew. to keep him sober. He had played me once also the part of a blustering braggart. as I will tell. Since Mr Bartholomew's man was mute. That an affair of the heart was involved. Mr Bartholomew had advised me of her coming with us. Q. At what fee? A. He was scrivener's clerk for a time. Q. which I was to pay him at the end. Since then he has lived from hand to mouth. He is no fool at heart. I have not. His hat covers all his household. I had employed him as I say. He took my word that there was nothing heinous in the venture. That our purpose was to effect a secret journey. And his living. I know not what else. Ten guineas for the whole. Q. for in truth he was so drunk before we commenced he needed not to act his part. But it was decided he should play something of that part again. He is a great boaster among his equals. But you have never paid him? A. where he gained no small applause. For he knows how to keep a close mouth.processtext. He sounds rogue enough to me. nor more dishonest than the next. Now what of the maid? A. I have lent him small sums of money on occasion. He made no objection? A. sir. we thought a fellow like Jones might allay suspicion where we lodged. A glib tongue is second nature with him. window-polisher. who approved him. Or only a small part. I forgot to tell.

Nor wore he livery at all when we travelled. but looked like some simple country fellow. beside his natural deficincies. sir. This is the 25th of April? A. In proper time. What of that last? A. since it is much frequented. He had the eyes of an idiot. so he might have warning. Q. I might call her modest beauty. there is stranger still. sir. And there we should find horses waiting for us. sir. yes. and now carried to rejoin her mistress. and that of his man likewise. http://www. and her face did not want elsewhere. He had told you so much before you started . And I did not. Not in the least. We came upon them a mile before Staines. as if for Exeter. and lodge at the Bull there. the young lady's confidante. and he thought it likely the uncle had a man posted to watch it. It was. Yet I must tell you also there is a great mystery concerning her part. sir. who had been dismissed for her pains. I took little notice of her at the first meeting. Her name was given as Louise? You never heard her called other? A.processtext.that Bideford was where he tended? A. It was decided Jones and I should proceed alone by coach to Hounslow the day previous. he was like no manservant else I have ever seen. upon the pretext we had business there before my visit to the supposed sister in Bideford. Mr B. and the maid. But a handsome wench? A. nor knew to respect those above him. This is not the half of it. And so it passed. and then set out at first sunrise that next morning. He had not worn a blue livery waistcoat when first he came to my door. had she not been to my taste too slight and thin of figure. So we advised him. as he had never been in polite society. He said he feared the Bristol road. Yes. at Marlborough or Bristol itself. Upon which he had had her brought to London and placed under his protection. Why. I doubt I should have recognized him as Q. sir. Let us come to your journey. where we should meet him and his man. As to our itinerarium. Q. was manager in all? A. Yes. Q. You did not find her over-delicate and haughty her station? A. as I say. more Irish vagrant than gentleman's servant. Page 83 .Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. when she did venture. and we must know better how to carry off such matters. Silent and demure in her outward. Well enough spoken withal. Where met you first? A. Therefore we took that to the south. She seemed like enough to be a lady's maid. nor any of the accustomed manners of his station. Q. But requested us to advise him in the subterfuge. and surly to all but his master and the maid. Q. saying it was the first time in his life he had put on such a pretence.html came to Staines. Fine eyes. He informed me she was that very maid he had spoke of. upon the Staines road. Q.

but that if he had opportune chance. yet found the resemblance striking close. Was given me when we parted. http://www. 'Twas not said. and pressed him to say he was sure. sir. should let herself be hired out as a maid. had so grossly deceived me. Q. I confess I was left at a loss. if such she were. Q. How much? A. Thereupon he admitted he had but seen her briefly. that last morning. and said. and rid back. Q. We had ridden but an hour when my trust was first shaken.html Q. The Russia merchant? A. as it is vulgarly called. In short. and by linklight. Yes. Suspicion did not tarry. Q. sat sideways behind Dick. whereupon he said he must tell me something. Nothing passed at this meeting? A. No. I had some outlay to make on necessaries. who led the pack-horse. sir. At that he looked ahead to where the maid Mr Barrow of Lombard Street. In gold. Spare me the petty circumstance. I was loth to believe Mr B. The acquaintance he was with told him that she was -if you will forgive the expression . though the latter was paid to me. He then said he had seen her some two or three months since entering a bagnio behind St James. A. I told Jones he must certainly be mistaken. Unless they had lodged at Staines. Yet we passed that place without stopping when we came to it. Q. one to Jones. I may tell you that. Mr Ayscough. Ten guineas to me. I had fallen a little behind with Jones. Q. I have encashed it. And the remainder? A. and likewise that of Jones. Where had they come from? A. as upon a happy venture of sorts. if he were mistaken. I believe I have seen that young woman before. nor could I conceive that a notorious whore. and she is no lady's maid.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. to see if he could discover more. I said he should speak. An advance upon my agreed fee. upon a bill. and though I have heard that such as Claiborne will furnish flesh out for a night to the favoured libertine. Drawn upon whom? A. I could not believe she would do it for such a journey as ours. far from it. I wish all that pertains to your discovery that Mr Bartholomew was other than he claimed. Page 84 . Mr Lacy. I was to bid him hold his tongue. Q. sir. Mother Claiborne' of the choicest pieces who worked there. and could not swear. Nor saw I reason why. I don't know. Was payment made to you before you started? A. he should speak to the wench. I confess we set out not without some spirit of expectation. Let us set off. I was shocked as you may think. but if he spoke out of place. sir.processtext. I know what such creatures and their mistresses may earn by their trade. sir.

that the part I played in _The Beggar's Opera__ did Page 85 . What is that to mean? A. sir. sir. the more silent he grew. He asked me more of my life and seemed ready to hear such tales as I told him. Q. but would say nothing when Jones would lead her to gossip. but I should understand his thoughts lay all ahead. for he would ride with me on occasion. Some. though I deemed it more politeness than true interest.give any sign of covert collusion? A. Q.html Q. as if she were no more than box and baggage.processtext. he confessed as much himself. I did not. Only that she was Bristol born. our horses and the road. had commanded her to silence. sir. by chance. Q. She would dress as such? A. In brief. later that day. Spoke very soft. Q. And did he speak with her. Yes. as you counselled him? A. sir. indeed natural in a hopeful lover. No proper nor Christian name. In general. It is true. and looked forward to seeing her young mistress again. in manner direct. I must tell you he rode most often alone during our journey. Then she appeared privy to the false pretext? A. http://www. as he put it. He told me she would say little. We but spoke of what we passed.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. As we travelled he seemed the rather indifferent to her. Q. Q. He asked me more than once to forgive him. Q. Did he speak apart to the girl . thinking such as he first credited her could not be so modest and he must be wrong. I think none of moment on that first day. Not of what we were engaged upon. I fear so. and answered most often with a yes or no or mere nod. of myself and of my grandfather and the king. sir. For she said Mr B. such matters. I gained a little of him. He did. Jones was less certain now. Not to the end. That she would play modesty. our suspicion was lulled and abated for then. Then in general you had little converse with him? A. Did you speak of this to Mr B.? A. it was little courteous in him to play the sour hermit. I was prevented by our agreement. Not then. It was to spare himself the pains of pretence? A. He said she seemed more timid than aught else. Could Jones put no name upon her of the bagnio? A. Mr Ayscough. as I will tell. But that she was known by those who frequented the house as the Quaker Maid. Q. and not in the dull present. the more westward. I now so believe. nor indeed ever in my own sight and hearing. I thought it ' of no account then. the better to whet the appetite of the debauched.

To which he answered. A. Lacy. Q. for I rode most alarmed that a real such as I had played should appear . and added. Lacy. could not mean that we had always best stay moored in that port where we were first built and launched.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Though I durst not tell my father such things. and I was no Robin there. so to say that he did not agree. not his outward show of beliefs. We should be well quit of three parts of this world. and on one other occasion. Why. and such is mercantile philosophy. for he was too drunk to ride his horse. To that I replied that I feared fathers would ever have their sons in their own close image. That God placed most worthy and necessary veils upon His mystery. and did cite me the view of one Saunderson. He said nothing else of his father? A. So I took him to mean. sir. with respect. I know it. yes. yet hath by his intelligence largely conquered that deficiency. and went on to speak well of this present government's policy of _quieta non movere__. that all politics was as clouds before the sun. And when I did press him to declare his views. it was superfluous. Then did he give me a sad smile. at which he did give me a look.that he who could contrive to please both the country squire and the city merchant must be no fool. for he said. or he judged it so. Q. sir. this is nothing to the point. Beyond what was said at the first. I told Mr B. We met a reverend gentleman upon the road. he said that as to Sir Robert he must concede he was good manager and man of business for the nation's affairs . from the most wretched niggler and tradesman up. For how might a better world come. In our further conversation he declared himself a hater of hypocrisy. of religion. but I beg you to believe we actors must always be two persons.. I thank the Lord. Then that merchants and their interest should soon rule this world. if this one may not change? And asked me if I did not think that of the Creator's divine purposes this at least was most clear: that His giving us freedom to move and choose. that he was too strict. of the Church? A. that is blind. that no established church would ever give ground to such plain reason. which his man held beside him till lie was fit enough to mount again. that already we saw it in statesmen. I may assure you. that is. as a ship upon the vast ocean of time. and his soul saved. Yes. But now he spake more of the learned gentleman.which he did not. If in this a son doth not bow to every paternal Test and Corporation but that yet he believed that the great founding principle of his administration of which I had spoken must be wrong. Spake Mr B.alas. and his elder brother the same. For on another occasion I remember he said. And nothing change to the end of time . What I tell you.html mock Sir Robert Walpole. that professes mathematicks at the university of Cambridge. On this aforesaid occasion he did end by confessing that he was in general indifferent to politics. when he said he was an old fool. That he believed a man was finally judged. for thereby it would deny its own inheritance and all its earthly powers. A statesman may be honest for a fortnight. that very first day we must pass those heaths of Bagshot and Camberley. with such shepherds. but His ministers too often used them to blindfold their charges and lead them into ignorance and baseless prejudice. upon a similar question being put to him. he said. http://www. Q. upon a later occasion. whom he had heard once say. Not that I recall. sir. I must contradict. he hath no being.processtext. showed some disgust and said it was too common a case and that it was little wonder the flock strayed. he is damned. so to intimate. more necessary nuisance than truth. or rather sitting beside it. At which Mr B. Page 86 . one upon the boards and another off them. and that it seems did teach him while he was there. but it will not do for a month. by his deeds. and it seems is much loved and revered by his pupils. And with which he concurred? A. Q. But once.

No. before you came to Amesbury? A. Sir. You may not. Where stayed you that night? A.processtext. and showed me all deference in public. A. _die annoque praedicto__. Thence early to Andover and Amesbury. Mr B. We who tread the boards are not the only players of parts in this world. Then she must wait in vain. We supped in my chamber. would have me take the best chamber at the Angel. in which place we lodged the next. And we should rest at Amesbury. Spurn the holder. No. and we shall resume at three of the clock prompt. Lacy. May I not send to say I am detained? Q. Q. I held them good sense. No. Basingstoke. sir. http://www. though we might have gone further.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and even less that second day. at Stonehenge. sir. and I had expected to. it is idle. Such is my view. Q. To scorn the hypocrite. Q. But enough of this. We will stop now. My clerk shall take you to dine. To scorn the established church? A. Mrs Lacy expects me to dine at home. Did nothing pass the previous night at Basingstoke. sir.html Q. Mr Ayscough. spurn the office. with respect. Q. Did you not hold them reprehensible? A. A. for he would not go into Page 87 . all passed as was intended. played my nephew. I was. Your view leads to sedition. Were you not surprised? . Q. At the Angel. You went in no great haste. Q. The same further deposeth upon oath. then? A. Those are free-thinking tenets. A. for as we carne to Amesbury he said he would view the famous heathen temple nearby. Q.

Q. that he did call his _bibliotheca viatica__. and had politely to inform lain that he wasted his breath. as I said. No. No. who did hit upon a way of multiplying numbers. and said that these numbers might be read therein. He did essay one day as we rode to explain sir Isaac's doctrine of fluxions and fluents. Unless it was with his book s. Q. This chest held books or papers? A. He made much of this matter of ciphering? A.html the public rooms. and cited other examples. wherever we lodged. he talked of a learned monk of many centuries ago. The one inn. I believe he said it to be of one to one and six tenths. I know not what. For he brought a small chest with him. sir. Mr Saunderson. but the adding of each last two figures to make the next. http://www. might speak of a curiosity. five. it was when we did come to Taunton Deanne. sir. but retire to his own chamber. one-and-twenty. as I saw opened two or three times. if the journey was for the purpose alleged? Page 88 . Q. the eating once done. I must confess myself lost. Again. yet had not fully explored it. ‘twas simple. sir. in many places in nature. Q. that I forget now except that many accorded with the order of petals and leaves in trees and herbs. You do not know how he occupied himself? A. is it not so? A. to wit one. sir. No. as to their nature? A. He pointed to all that chanced about us. As one. two. sir.processtext. Was he ever more particular. I am not formed to judge of such matters. And there he read papers from his chest when he had eaten. Q. Did you not enquire? A. He told me all were mathematick. I saw him not again. his travelling library. that he said he had first gained of his tutor at Cambridge. that was in Latin. Saw you ever a title to any of the books? A. Q. I do not recall the title. which he called no discourtesy. I would not say that. Mr B. it was at Taunton. averred that he himself did believe these numbers appeared. since he was such a dullard. Mr Ayscough. and leave me to my own devices. as it were a divine cipher that all living things must copy. who did discover a perfect proportion. That in itself I might understand. eight. rather that he had glimpsed such a secret. spoke of him with a greater respect than I heard him use of any other. the gentleman I named earlier. He would claim to have penetrated some secret of nature. and bring this travelling library. three.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. we had no choice but to share the one room. Nor would he linger. Q. thirteen. I remarked a work by Sir Isaac Newton. Mr B. No. for that the ratio between its successive numbers was that also of a secret of the Greeks. Q. but a favour to me. and that such study diverted his mind from more troubling thoughts. Did you not think it odd that he should follow these pursuits. Both. though secretly. sir. thus forward as you may will.

Did she always thus . you say? A.processtext. that he saw the man was deep smitten by her. sir. Furthermore. Q. A. Mr B. http://www. the distance small. though he had said he had no more seen it before than I. and intended not to deprive himself of them in the exile consequent on an elopement Q. which he found strange. said we should stay there. Q. As I told before we came there Mr B. the more I perceived he was not as ordinary men. I had some curiosity to see the place. There is more to tell on this. I saw this not. No. A trifle. Jones told me of it after. Jones told me that she too would have a chamber of her own. sir. It concerned the maid Louise. I have seen it graved. where such a chamber was to be found. as is the custom. such as that Mr B. Did you see in this chest an instrument.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. To my surprise he seemed familiar with the place. and not sleep with the inn maids. Very well. that had appearance as of a clock.html A. Seemed she smitten in return? A. You have visited it. though we might have ridden further. except that she did riot openly rebuff him. and I dismounted and walked among the stones. it was Wincanton. I supposed him more serious in his scientific pursuits than he cared openly to allow. I but mention it as it came. Your servants came with you? A. That he could not determine. sir? Q. though I confess I found it less imposing and ruder than I had imagined. Q. I have one last question here. No. sir. A. Q. with many wheels. Q. We discussed upon it. yet could come to no conclusion then. and was made of brass? A. Q.'s authority was sought. Nor would she dine at their table. and he said she should have as she demanded. that passed at Basingstoke. To Amesbury. The day was fine. The more we travelled. Nor saw such an instrument being used? A. How is that? Page 89 . there was some dispute upon such an unaccustomed demand. she must have her victuals taken upstairs to her by the mute. Only Dick. Always full. That he wished to see the temple and after we had dined I might if I wished ride out with him over the downs to view it. A. I was never enabled to see all it held. Let us come to Amesbury. I should remark something else first. Q. She did. Yet you saw this chest open. and with loose papers scattered on top. sir. For in one.sleep and eat apart? A. let alone as ordinary lovers. sir. like the rest.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. then he resumed. As do most men. and even less that behind the actors lay an author and a manager. and seen his drawings and chorographies. but it may be they are wrong. He found his tongue there then? A. Which. Not by the black arts. these ancients knew a secret I should give all I possess to secure. that had no knowledge they were such. I remarked that apprehended the charming object of our journey. In all else the} lived in darkness. far different from what we supposed. At which he seemed somewhat set back. he meant no railing. They knew their life's meridian. What made you of this? A 'Twas said lightly. yet this great light they had. was but a helpless child? I said I did no understand what arcane knowledge this might be. that for God all time is as one eternally now. Mr Ays cough. and likewise His sacred text. I assure you. Lacy. and as such are blind. He asked me. hi said. he said. Indeed. albeit in the same light spirit. and discussed with him. he said. he began to expatiate upon what it was conjectured its barbarous religion had been. if we had only eyes to see it. and to serve other ends. and have known what we can bare begin to comprehend? Why. sir. I asked him with some astonishment how he had come to this knowledge. and thought ourselves most real. To which his answer was: why. Gogs and Magogs. Lacy. but then smiled and said. whereas we must see it as past. not seeing we were made of imperfect words and ideas. He spoke of other books and discourses upon the monument that he had read. from what he had vouchsafed. as we do our kings. while : live in light. or the next Page 90 . before Christ Himself. was no phantom. if I gave credit to the belief of the ancients in auspicious days. I am wandered into dark pastures. whereat he smiled and said. future as in a history. how it would have appeared were it not half ruined. though I hold such things superstition. and had no notion that they acted to fixed and written lines. But it spins and dance now.processtext. which could not be by chance. And he said. who knew not of actors. To which I demurred. And he said he had met the Reverend Mr Stukeley of Stamford. these savages who set these stones knew something even our Newtons and Leibnizes cannot reach Then he likened mankind to an audience in a playhouse. at the stones. had found it so. and informed me that upon Midsummer's Day the sun would rise upon that stone. perhaps before Rome. he said within the chains and bars of our senses and our brief allotted span. He did speak like a true virtuoso. as it were in passing. that God is eternal motion. that these rude savages may have entered a place when we still fear to tread. yet that he found Mr Stukeley's notions more just and worthy of attention. Q. I said I had not thought on the matter. yet must beg leave to doubt our present notions of him. sir. sometimes merciful. He assured me not. I will tell you this. to which even that great philosopher Sir Isaac Newton. Know you the true name for this pile? Chorum Giganteum. For we mortals are locked as at Newgate. and I still search mine. Some other learned writer. whose name I do not recall. sir. then by contrary: should you happily open a new piece upon a Friday that was also thirteenth of the month? I confessed I should rather not. as if he mocked me for my ignorance. there was truth in what he said. and stumble after phantoms. http://www. You an right. present.html A. The country people say it will not dance again until the Day of Judgement. Very well. for he said it Would be juster to say we were like the personages in a tale or novel. Notwithstanding in truth we knew no more of him and his ends than of what lay in the moon. Then he gestured about us. I confess I was the more struck by his learning than by the place itself. for I said we most certainly knew there was an Author behind all. Do you not admire that. that the temple was so set upon its ground that it must always match this one day. Why. Yet is it not strange. from the temple's centre where we stood. the antiquary. Lacy. At which he smiled again and said he did not deny the existence of such an Author. He then took me a step or two aside and pointed to a great stone some fifty paces off. We might imagine this great Author of all as such and such. I taxed him with. sir.. in our own image. the purpose of its entabled pillars. and said. sometimes cruel. the dance of th. I know not what else. Then lie said. sir. We walked some paces in silence. Q. This is his first orrery.

And he said. I would argue upon this. Mr Ayscough. Then he said. Did he not say earlier to you that man is able to choose and so change his course . he beckoned to his servant who waited nearby. obey that part and portray its greater fate. They were a nation of seers and innocent philosophers. That they would be tedious. For the Roman historians. To which he answered. as if he would talk on such matters no more. that they had been conquered by the Romans. You were given your conge? A. happy or unhappy. and he would not presume upon my patience to wait while they were taken. fixed it must seem by another intention. Q. and told me he must make some measurements. as it falls. Q. our learning. bearing within them the first seed of Christianity. however. that his history is predestined. and then he said.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. As a man might say to himself. Then leap. that God was in each. And he said. A. So I took it to be. and the rest. for he would not believe that God was in the most vicious and depraved as He was in the good and worthy. your observation occurred to me also. tho' their enemies. he believed they had pierced some part of the mystery of time. as their monument showed. Yet they who set and dressed those stones lived before the tale began. he might not in a particular one. that for himself. Then of a sudden. no match for the Romans in war. http://www. that is that they could see into the future by reading the flight of birds and the form of livers. to answer that. I talk overmuch. had said as much. I did admire. if it may be read in days to come. in mathematick terms. They knew they knew nothing. The morrow I seized my opportunity as we rode past the monument on our way west and would have him speak further of his views concerning the ancients and in what their secret lay. is it not so? To which I agreed. and disappeared from this world. that we may choose in many small things as I may choose how I play a part. to the very last page. yet he believed them far more subtle than that.for I carried his great work in my pocket. And he said although he might believe in a general providence. I must tell you I saw not Mr B. Was Christ Himself not crucified? Q.html world. to make him expatiate the further. and I remarked upon it. I believe they knew the book and story of this world. in a present that had no past. Mr Ayscough. the very opposite. how dress for it. that it was they called the Druids who had built this monument and that they came hence first from the Holy Land. to which he answered. but yet must at the end. it is better I find an excuse to be silent now. Well. I answer you in riddles. such as we may hardly imagine to ourselves.processtext. I must leap ahead. if one could contrive to read it right. sir. had inquired of what I read. Which is why he took his measurements. for it seemed he spoke in contempt of established religion now. nor that He would allow those He inspired. as you may know your Milton. Mr Ayscough. and Mr B. We moderns are corrupted by our past. Q. how gesture. What said you to that? A. Q. if they could read the future. And next he spake of Mr Stukeley's belief. for as I say. in greater matters. to be good or evil. who were Page 91 . Lacy. and we are no more free than the fixed characters of a play or book already written? A. and the more we know of what happened. further that day. our historians. upon Mr Stukeley's request. What took you him to mean by this great secret we cannot reach? A. the less we know of what will happen. we are like the personages of a To which he said. as its author creates.

Q. Mr Ayscough. Q. the maid. no. I must agree. At cockcrow he wakes. sir. Did he not dream it? A. for he said the bells sounded not a quarter after. he said. as he felt greatly fatigued. But no. Just before midnight. to ask me to excuse his presence at supper. as if she played a part. sir. then Morpheus conquered him. http://www. for a suspicion had come upon him. with a most strange tale. just as the bells strike.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I there came upon Jones. sir. and finds Dick asleep. They rode out? A. Very well. He was waking for an hour. All this is most dangerous doctrine. who was fishing for roach in the stream. Supposing that until a day or two ago she was indeed kept his prisoner. yet light enough for this. such as we must see all around us. sir. where Mr Bartholomew told you he first met her. and sat with him an hour or more. Q. seemed even kind to this attention. and makes out three figures. sir. as we rode.html innocent. She had none of their airs and impudence. for all her modesty of manner. He had slept in the same place as Dick. the more I Page 92 . One is Dick. to mislead us. he hears sounds below in the yard. When we returned to where we lodged. I think not.processtext. The third. In company he will boast and tell tales enough. He was sure. to suffer the pain and misery that they most often did. Now supposing. Now I did not believe Jones's story of seeing her at the bagnio. I questioned him closely. We left you riding back to Amesbury. that I had watched the maid more close during that previous day. Whereat he goes to the window. I tell you as it was put to take his drift. all is true about Mr Bartholomew and the young lady except this: that she and her uncle are in the West. Q. He thought to rouse me. I perceived also Jones was right concerning Dick: there was that in his eyes would have devoured her alive. would smile at him on occasion. to answer nature. Besides. Q. You were assisting an elopement post facto? A. Nothing at that time. Yet I found something knowing in her. the evening being fine. They A. had he dared. Another is his master. I must tell you. yet not where we think. The more I reflected on what I had observed of her myself. he was awake and heard Dick quit the chamber. It seemed against nature to me. in my room. there was no moon. as if nothing had passed. Q. Which I should not have had I known Jones shall come to me early that next morning. he was alarmed for us both. I have not finished. and slept deep. but in London. and resolved to watch for their return. And Jones's suspicion? A. I was shocked. I am certain not to me. Q. A. And therefore . but saw they took no baggage. on such an occasion. Mr Lacy. Mr Ayscough. I was tired myself and was to bed early. and would straight to bed. What made you of that? A. Now I found it strange she was not offended. We perforce come to know such women only too well in the theatre. He thought. I found a note from Mr B. who leads two horses with stifled hooves upon the cobbles. these only. sir.

Lacy. sir. Q. So we must set out. I can no more today. Jones proposed that the going out in the night had been to solemnize a clandestine wedding. though he found an opportunity to charge her. You need not fear. to hint playfully he had wind of her night adventure.html saw colour in it-were it not for her kindness in Dick's regard. Very well. sir. My own conscience shall bring me. I have other business. would not admit them and grew angry when he persisted. yet I saw that might have been to deceive us. which did explain why we should have delayed at Amesbury. before with Jones I agreed he should find opportunity to speak aside with the girl. Subsequent to that day were you informed what purpose this nocturnal adventure had? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. He said she seemed at first in some confusion. However. when he pressed his hints. I will not repeat all we conjectured. upon so trifling an outward eight o'clock prompt. Page 93 . It is a mystery. She did. and myself to feel gravely at a loss to know how to broach the matter with him. he should not need our service further. Q. No. http://www. You will attend here tomorrow morning. and that we must soon know. He was not. sir. till she would not answer at all.processtext. You are not clear yet. Is it understood? Without fail. sir. The only good I could discern in it was that had Mr Bartholomew accomplished such an end. alas. Mr Ayscough. I had almost feared to find Mr Bartholomew already decamped with his bride when I came down. Did he succeed? A. Q. No. She denied she had left the inn? A. But he was not? A. I was not. sir. sir. Tell me this now. nor indeed seemed changed in any way. in short to see what might be teased out of her. Q. A. like so much else.

Now. if you do not speak truth. we will not beat about the bush. &c. woman. by the grace of God King of Great Britain and of England.html The Examination and Deposition of _Hannah Claiborne __the which doth attest upon her sworn oath. http://www.processtext. Q. Q. You know him I search after. I know which side the butter lies. I am forty-eight years of age. And even more to your cost. that is in German Street.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. MY NAME is Hannah Claiborne. this four and twentieth day of August in the tenth year of the reign of our sovereign Lord George the second. To my cost. A. Know you her true name? Page 94 . and widow. I would hear first of this creature of yours. I am keeper of the St James house. A.

Claiborne. Already a whore? A. Unnaturally. To spy out the innocent and corrupt 'em? A. Q. Q. Q. You never heard her called by a French name. She was by child? A.html A. http://www. Q. Q. How old was she then? A. Near twenty. A. at Bristol where she came from. No. Q. For all I know. Q. to wit Louise? A. Q. By one I know. Or so she said. How came she in your claws? A. Bristol. to a son of the house. But we called her Fanny. No. was she sought after at your stews? Page 95 . None of thy laconic insolence with me.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. thou art one of this town's most notorious whoremongers. Now. Meaning you do not? A. Rebecca Hocknell. Three years past. or so she said. When came she first to your house? A. And whence hailed she? A. She was already corrupted. she is barren naturally. Q. She never spake of them. By a woman I sent out. Q. And was dismissed. She lost her honour where she was maid. Has she family there? A. Q.

She had as well been actress as whore. Well. Thou must know nothing pleases your true Debauchee better than to be obliged to force. sir? Page 96 . but sweetly bares her pretty Heart to the fortunate Huntsman's Dagger. madam? A. That she knew to tame men to her fancy. the cunning hussy. to cry for Shame. 'Twas born in her nature. What is that? Q. Claiborne. http://www. For an amorous Encounter with the Quaker Maid. sir. Miss Simple would you have more? A novel of her tricks would make a book. that cannot spend till first he be well thrashed and striped. Miss Fresh-from-the-country. Not from me. Q. Q. That she was no ordinary piece of flesh. She played innocence. Where learnt she these powers of simulation? A. She played the lady? A.html A. What innocence? A. Old Mr Justice P……n. 'Twas miracle her custom stood for it. Q. Q. Q. when she was not one jot. neither. I am told it went out at thy expense. What tricks? A. Q. I would have thee look at this printed paper.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. But no matter. despite her modest Appellation. who neither fights for Life nor swoons of Fear.processtext. and came back for more. Prude. Reader. Have you seen it? A. from the Devil. modest sister. doubtless you know him all in the same bout. I may -have seen it. Q. until at last she's brought to Bay. Miss Timid Don't-tempt-me. This is no silver Quean. More for her tricks than her flesh. Which he craved. to blush. thou had'st best count thy Gold first. as cold wanton a trollop as ever I knew. Q. None better at whipping. A. though 'tis whispered she requires such Stabbing there as more often leaves Sir Nimrod dead than she. She was innocent as a nest of vipers. despite her first Appearance. But thereafter 'tis a most curious and commodious Hind. Was she not famed for her lewd skill in one part? A. and must be treated so. I will read you a choice passage. With him she'd be disdainful as an infanta and cruel as a tartar. beside. when she wanted. and such is this cunning Nymph's Device . How encompassed she this taming? A. I deny it. but pure as Hampstead water. nor no modest One.' Well.

Q. Lord B…. And two or three times more. This is frequent. Lord B….html Q. Q. who presented him to me and said he would meet Fanny. But of this I knew before. But Lord B…… told me in private afterward. that will have one wench or one pleasure and no other. Q. by note of hand. What are they? A. And this one was one such? A. No. He whose name I forbid you to utter.. that would hide their names and be secret in their coming and going. At the beginning of April last. a four days before. Yes. Q. I suppose. Q. And your geese the hardened rakes? A. whom his Lordship had commended. ahead of their vile employment? A. Q. They are our goslings. Seemed he to know houses like yours? A. You had seen him before? A. curse her. Yes.processtext. Yes. 'cept one of his friends. Q. He came with a gentleman I know well. How? A. That shall bring thee no mercy on Judgement Day. though he said not for who it was. That are over-lavish in their gifts. If they are prize pieces. A gosling. No name was said. my lord B-.had already taken her.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. And what passed? A. Q. Page 97 . He went with Fanny.introduced his friend under his true name? A. when came he first into this? A. http://www. What if it is? I did not write nor publish it. and would I had not seen him then. Q. that your wenches are taken. Is it she? A.. in the week that followed.

He made presents above what was due. He came to me one day and said he had matter to discuss that he hoped would be to both our advantages. http://www. He said he was invited to a party of pleasure in Oxfordshire. Q. He called himself Mr Smith. if I would allow and name a price for my discommodation by loss of her. and hid his name. and I must give that consideration. all was secret. 'twas to be a fortnight's folly. I could not decide on such a proposal at so short notice. and after to me. In the end that he would hire Fanny from me for this time. He said that I knew now he lacked neither rank nor wealth. That I did not know him well. to suppers and the like in town. When was this? A. He came again to Fanny a day or two later. Q. when all had tasted all. Q. How answered you? A. To you or the girl? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. He would not. Yes. Then that he had spoken of the diversion with Fanny. You came not to mention of terms? A. Q.html Q. Tho' now he said me his true one that I knew already of Lord B . Q. He would have none but Fanny. who was on her mettle and willing to the sport. I said I would think on it. Presents of money? A. On which he went away. and a prize given him who had brought the finest whore. must mean three weeks. Not then. To both. He said he had been told I did. howsoever she told him all lay with me. at a friend's estate. Which with the travelling there and back. Q. There was a false one he bore? A. I said I had never done such a thing. Q. or would hide it from me. How took he that? A. That with that and other entertainments. Q. Toward the middle of the month. not even his true He said where this estate was? A. where there was to be other rakes. by which time I had spoke to Page 98 . And he we speak of was in down? A. And what led to her going from you? A. I said I might now and then send out upon terms to gentlemen I well knew.processtext. Q. They would cause no scandal.

Why should he? He pays me that. Q. and should steal a march upon me. Q.html Lord B. She was practised in the meek face. I was deceived by That Mistress Wishbourne had promised two of her girls to it. barren. That he was surprised I had no wind of it. Q. only three years' use. he was himself invited to it. You were persuaded? A. The more fool me. Watch thy impudent tongue. Q. for I might name what price I liked for the favour. She has never come back.processtext. What other matters. That I should be foolish to offend someone so great as a duke's son. she would do as I pleased. I desire to know what the flesh-rent was. But the cunning slut lied. How much? A. She said she was passing indifferent. Who is Wishbourne? A. woman! A. I have suffered great loss by her. Q. For all her faults she was a delicate good whore. I was his fool. Q. Q. Three hundred guineas. and fame attach to all who had a part in it. Did he baulk? A. http://www. That once done. How lied? A. I put it upon three weeks' loss of her employment in my house. Did you speak with the girl? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Small loss to decency. Q. Q. It is true. And pay the 'pothecary. She was privy to all. all. And other matters. I say enough. feed. tho' prevented by other business he could not put off. Q. Which he said he did. and steals ten thousand. What part of this was hers? A. gossip would spread news of the folly. I dress. A. that's proof enough for me. Q. An upstart keeper of the new Covent Garden house. You have proof? A. Page 99 . when they have the Barnwell ague.and asked if he knew of this party of pleasure. That there was butter in it for me. find linen. She was already bought to it. woman? A.

And when she did not return as she should? A. Q. A. Now I would know what the girl said of he I enquire upon to you or your other Q. Sixty guineas? A. Q. which is the easier work for 'em. and I wish her in hell fire. Q. I gave her nothing. http://www. I did not. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. You have had no word from her since she left? A. That he was green. Q. as all London knows. and likewise none knew of this folly. Tho' I wish him Q. not one. Page 100 . beside what presents she might gain for her self.and complained. to blind me. Yes. or I should know the cost and lose far more than what I did by her going-off. That I must be patient. To oblige her to return? A. there was to be no scandal let abroad about it. And pay him in kind for it. and I forgive him not. so came to me a two days later and said there was some mystery afoot. He brings many to my house. I hold more than that for her. then spent fast. but promised well. No. for I found in the meantime that none had left Wishbourne's. for he had spoken with one that was there. Q. I spoke to my lord B…….html Q. Where you shall both meet. was quick set to the task. We'll hear no more of that. More than she deserved. Enough. Q. I will know her share. who had sworn neither the person nor Fanny was present. And you hold it still for her? A. I bear. One fifth. not to the party of pleasure at all. Did you believe him? A. A. And he said he would inquire.processtext. Q. A. I know which side my bread is buttered. A fig for thy economy. 'Twas all lies. it was rumoured the person was now gone to France. Which you gave her? A. What I must bear. Did you charge him with this? A. till she returned.

for they found her prudish guiles more lickorish than the usual kind. Q. to cozen me. when she came not back? A. that is regular. She knew it served her best with me. And what have you done to that purpose? A. and thought they had made a conquest when she let them cockadillo between her legs. even if she was. when she played the innocent at heart. What plan? A.html Q. nor unpaid favours. Choicest is freshest. She was your choicest flesh on offer. Or she with him? A. is it not so? A. your most costly? A. I have a right to recover what is mine. if they pay more for well-trodden goods. Q. Q. and must be treated gently and won not taken at the gallop. Q. and good riddance. http://www. Yes. Yes: Q. She would not have culls except by the night. though they offered and would woo him away. Q. What should I do. Your other jades were surprised. More fools I could have sold the slut six times over a same night. She knew well enough what rules I make. She is gone. which I allowed her. Q. That was no virgin. for all her airs. Q. Some ten. for he would not try any other. now she's gone abroad? Page 101 . Why. How many such women do you keep? A.processtext. Q. on that score. I will not answer that. Seemed he especially taken with her? A. Yes. And that you and your ruffians have seen to it that she'll whore no more. Which many who went with her liked. more than once. seeing we gained as much so as by shorter hire. It is a lie. that has never known a man before. till this occasion? A. for all her country-maid airs. Why. How with men? A. 'Twas her plan. She was no fool. And what have you told them? A. as it did with most her men. She would not say. Q. Most often she was full taken a week ahead. She had been obedient to your rules. I allow no secret attachments.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.

which I doubt not is done. Do I make myself plain? A. sir. Q.html Q. Q. If one of your vile instruments should find out where she is. That wench is mine. and you come not upon the instant to tell me. anno domini 1736 coram me Henry Ayscough Page 102 . now. you'll never again drive geese and goslings. Have your rogues and spies watch for her coming back. http://www. I won't be provoked by such as thee. Yes. madam. So be it. Now I warn thee solemnly. I'll end your traffick once and for all. I repeat. Claiborne.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Jurat die quarto et vicesimo Aug. By Heaven you shan't. As one of my ruffians. dost understand me plain? A. Now take thy putrid painted cheeks out of my sight.

I still do not know. or on any other occasion. Why. You could say now? A. sir. sir. to pass the time? Or seemed it out of some closer interest .I would say preponderant interest. Q. upon oath renewed. The true purpose of our journey. I would go back in one or two particulars upon yesterday. the four and twentieth day of August. http://www.a headstrong passion and a box of learned tomes? A. It may be.html The further examination and deposition of Mr Francis Lacy. here is a strange lover .Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. _anno praedicto__.processtext. I could not then have said. When Mr Bartholomew spoke of his interests. What took you him to mean by finding his life's meridian? A. I could say Mr Bartholomew told me at the last that there was no young lady in Cornwall. seemed it to you that here was a man who mentioned these things out of no more than politeness to you. as you report. As you will discover. rather? Did you not begin to think. Q. or a greater interest. some Page 103 . Q. As to whether it were a crotchet of Mr Bartholomew's character so to occupy himself. Now. It was all or in what he said at your viewing of the Amesbury temple. no more than is conveyed by any such obscure and fanciful metaphor. Certainly I thought that.more eager and eloquent before a heap of stones than before the prospect of the lady he purports to adore? Content to delay and pursue his studies when most young men would resent each wasted hour upon the road? Are they not strange companions .

knew as much as he. sir. he is like a musket. Q. a stone. suspicion he was as much hired as Jones and I. as if to say I mistook. without me he's no more than a root. his scantling manners. despite their smiling faces and compliments in public. a chair. for I know whose effigy he persists in seeing as the only true divinity in his life. his mother was his own . Without me he would be a wild creature. his duties. and even a kind of envy in return. Page 104 . He said he had several times tried to instil some sense of the Divine Being in the man.html certainty of belief or faith. What thought you to all this? A. God enthroned in heaven. Where they light is the chance of the moment. Q. Whereon he told me they had far longer acquaintance than I might suppose. If I should see Venus in a lady's face. Well. Q. so would he. Not directly. Then went on to 'twas at Wincanton. sir. you applauded rogue. Wherever he points.his speech by signs.why. Indeed by some strange humour of the stars we first breathed on the very same hour of the very same autumn day. If I dressed like a Hottentot. behind his back. with all their faculties. He knows this as well as I. one will. one appetite.I would say Mr Bartholomew's . therefore foster-brothers. And how answered Mr Bartholomew? A. I saw looks he gave his master. It is in his every vein and every bone. And he remarked.nurse. I do not say by reason.if they had not long before now stoned him to death. I am his animating principle. It makes no odds. That he had the senses of an animal. no servant in reality. I asked of Dick in a sidelong manner. I fear he found little consolation in religion as we see it practised in this land. For he said finally. I mean not in what he did. they were suckled at the same breast. he had in recompense a kind of wisdom. such as I have known in my profession between a famed actor and another inferior. his everything. when he curses fate. Q. no better than a beast. He is not like us. where he himself was wrong. and for which Mr Bartholomew had respect. http://www. what I covet he covets. sir. of manners and dress and the like. I could stab him to death and he would not raise an arm to defend himself. to the reality of a man. Why. Though one day as we supped. They come from anger against the fate that has made him what he is. with due attention. or the nearest passer-by. and one day I'll show the world I'm a great deal better. a house. He cannot dissemble what he feels. How shall I say. and had found him more than once right in his judgement of a person. why so will he. I must take him at his word. sir. and could see things we cannot.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. as if he were himself the master. Then how Dick was the constant companion of his childhood.processtext. the butt of the village clowns . Later. If I die. Flay him alive. I might even put it at a jealousy. You have said nothing further of his servant. Spoke you of this to Mr Bartholomew? A. for in that he did. How Dick was born on his father's estates. He told me I judged Dick as I judged other men. what I do he would do also. Lacy. Then he said that he and Dick were one mind. If I declared the most nauseous offal fit for the gods. I saw more in him I liked not. I cannot say an insolence . sir . what you will. he dies the next instant. I detected a secret resentment. albeit Dick was ignorant in so many things. he said. What suits my taste suits his. little. All he knows I have taught him .I am hard put to describe it. At first. as I said before. he would greedily devour it. It might as well be you as I. his servant from the time he was given one. Yet something in his manner. had shown him Christ's effigy. Mr Ayscough . says the lesser to himself. He said. A tree. and he would submit. thus he could brush aside the specious veils of speech.what made you of him upon the road? A. In vain. I did then venture to say that I liked not looks I had seen him give. if not with grace. that I found it strange he should choose to employ such a lacking man. I'm as good as you. I know those looks of his.or as near as he ever came to laughing. beyond what I stated yesterday. He laughed. he must seem to discharge. Lacy. He said to me. as a horse knows its true master from other riders. I've seen them all my life.

At Wincanton. I confess I thought it best to keep my own advice. that Dick was his lodestone.html when I showed some surprise at that. and our previous suspicions false. of a most abhorrent and unspeakable vice. such was his very word. And now that it has? A. No thought of such a thing had crossed my Q. Very well. in it may be no more than a covert look. Besides that it was clear the servant's interest was bound fast to the maid. yet I took that impression. I must venture on delicate ground. She could be neither notorious whore nor a lady in disguise? A. Where passed you that following night? A. He made some effort to conceal it from me. Q. I ignore what you would be at. sir. Q. I cannot believe it. I have not told all there yet. and he saw him not till that next morning.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Saw you in any occurrence or at any point upon your journey. an exchange of signs. Q. in more matters than I might suppose. Yes. Nothing of particular import happened there. You said nothing to Mr Bartholomew? A. No. I am shocked. the more silent he became? A. sir. Not only we spoke less as we rode. I fancied there was some fresh doubt or melancholy in his mind. Q. But as we rode on the next morning. You said the more westward. however small. evidence that this attachment between Mr Bartholomew and his man had roots in an affection that was not natural? A. I received not the slightest suspicion of such. a gesture. and finally as little as he. anciently practised in the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah? Why answer you not? A.processtext. Q. Q. It was no trick. That there was evidence. as if he had indeed only one object in mind. Jones told me that Dick had left the bed they shared and gone to a room adjoining. since I knew our journey must be near done. to throw off suspicion? A. http://www. but when we supped together I found myself obliged to do most of the talking. Q. that he put great value on this his unthinking power of judgement. Q. Let us return to the journey. That she must indeed be what she maintained. where by chance that night the maid Louise lay. Doubt of his enterprise? Page 105 . I would ask this. Now. What thought you to this? A. sir. Might that not have been but a trick. That is so. Lacy. that I marked myself. Q.

This road from Taunton was your last together? A. On both occasions they rode apart with him to an eminence. Tho' 'twas plain we must be close. http://www. when we had choice. by this stopping to look ahead. supposed they sought the most secret way. with Bideford scarce a day's ride forward. sir. There is that in his manner that is not easily turned from what preoccupies him. Unless it be that towards the end on two separate occasions Mr Bartholomew rode aside with Dick and the maid. as if to some distant hill or place. That can make the most innocent intentions of sympathy and interest seem to risk impertinence. Page 106 . Q you did not try to rally him? A. sir.processtext.html A. I had learnt my lesson by then. I must presume you know Mr Bartholomew far better than I. I He read still. he would read his papers. Which was as Jones and I had already surmised. Q. I had always taken it.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Much as before. Q. sir. sir. It was. No. This had not been done before? A. as if to view the prospect ahead. Yes. and would have a room he might pace about. as I said. he said they searched the most favourable road. Q. sir. craved my pardon. Q. as he said. that day? A. Lacy. Yes. and then. We admired ourselves. And I asked if we were near our destination. To which he replied. When Mr B. Q. I was not used to such travelling. And nothing pertinent. I cannot call myself surprised. beyond our being obliged to share the one chamber. when I retired to rest. Were you not near where Mr Bartholomew and his man had been but six weeks earlier? And where the maid had lived? Why should they need to search their road? A. And neither you nor Jones learnt more? Nothing else passed at Taunton? A. until we had supped. Q. where before. I so supposed. sir. since they neared where they must be most in danger. A. where it chanced our road passed. Your kind service is near done. Were it not that he requested me for once to yield him the best chamber. we are on the threshold I spoke of. Q. He doubted he would sleep that night. And this was your first advice of this parting on the morrow? A. once we had supped. Mr Ayscough. Did Mr Bartholomew make no remark upon it to you? A. The second-best was small. But not being privy to their plans and intentions. Now I would know all that passed at the Black Hart. I saw the man Dick point. No.

and what he called his vacua. and asked what I should do before one that had pierced the secrets of the future. and not by superstitious or magical means. He did not say. sir. Which I took to be his way of saying. To which he replied that perhaps his story had neither Romeo and Juliet. I asked if it were not some affair of honour. I confess I did not take it kindly. Proceed. it is this time or never. I said as much. Q. Things had gone thus far when I was unfortunately called away. I said that even if he failed once more on this occasion. I will not say he was discourteous. In what manner prevented? A. Mr Ayscough. A Mr Beckford. and said he feared he had been tedious company. Then no more of him. . He then added what he had told me was true inasmuch as he wished to meet someone. And now he struck out upon one of his fancies. Beside its greater largeness I saw no advantage. You knew him not before that day? A. I did not. Saw you no other purpose? A. Whereupon he most earnestly begged me to believe that what he hid from me was for my own good. it were better such knowledge were not told. or without a friend to second him. He did not say. How is this . Yes. Yet he was more impatient with my doubts. That I had his word that it was not criminal. but by learning and study. and as much as any man might his mistress . I recall he put it so .Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. For now I thought he had as good as admitted he deceived me. he might surely try again. And how.html Q. He had papers from his box spread on a table before him when I returned. when he had gone? A. That never the less I had played my part well. I saw they were mostly figures Page 107 . and he was grateful. For I had said he was not in some fixed story. sir. Mr Ayscough. had I known better how all was to pierced them? A. I did rally him a little then. To which I returned that I might have played it better. What was said when you had supped? A. One cannot cross the Rubicon twice. Who was this person? A. where all is antecedently doomed. He put it as a parable. As if he had reflected in my absence. to one such as I. He began by thanking me for bearing with him. his silences. I told him he took too despondent a view. I have spoken with him.processtext. He smiled sadly at that. which I took to signify that he was by no means confident of success in his venture. or some such words.or his Muse. and in a manner that alarmed me.and yet had been hitherto prevented. as it were in a tragedy. who is curate there Q. Q. Except that it looked out upon the square. I cannot tell you. and where I slept but upon the garden and back parts. http://www. He would not be pressed. if I granted him that. and said he would hardly ride so far to do what might be as well done in Hyde Park. I know of him. Q. so as to say this hypothetick person truly knew what was to happen in time to come. He answered. and broken his word. Q. and found he had said too much in our first conversation. You spoke with Mr Bartholomew again. Once more he made some obscure allusions. but found him changed. it is better I do not tell you of my real purpose.

at least. gave no indication of how close this person lay or lived? A. in respect of powers of understanding and wisdom. Q. As if to say. I must presume. Q. It is implied. And another on the table showed a geometrick figure. is it not. that he will flee if he has fore-knowledge of his coming in his own person and has his agents. as if they had been found in error. Unless at that observation at the temple. yet it did not put his soul in danger. and towards Bideford. albeit a false one. had gained some respect for me. and asked if I did not think they might not be seditious writings in cipher to James Stuart. at least persons of taste and learning. I did. or is indifferent to. a circle cut by many lines that passed the circle's centre. that before him he stood. Lacy. http://www. that he knows Mr B. I have deceived you. no. Mr B. you would say? A. seeks this meeting. Q Can you not be more exact as to what was written on the papers? A. never speak of such . If I do not which he eschews. sir. Likewise that he had perhaps come to practise the black arts with some local witch. Q. that this person now lives there or near there. You take his drift. further words of Greek. at the lines' ends. By way of sarcasm. His very words. rather as astrologers make their casts. I could not discern more closely. I can sooner swallow the heiress. I saw no reason why I should be so newly misled. in columns. He wished me to know he sought something beyond the seeming of our parts till then. posted to prevent him . that he dwelt in a desert. I know not what. Then that what he was about might be a foolish dream. When I look back. though obscurely. Some scholar. Q. No. and he replied. there are none. sir.processtext. in the neighbourhood. within that next day's ride. I apprehend he wished to suggest a greater and more serious purpose than he had led me to believe. whence all the elaborate subterfuge of which you were part? Is that not the case? I do not believe it. By chance I had asked Mr Beckford if such there were. that what had brought him there was not what Page 108 . With some two or three parts scratched loosely out. Never mind. spies. at this very last stage of our adventure. Mr Ayscough. I assure you. He confounded all in riddles. sir. Yes. He handed me one to look at. but it is in a great and worthy cause.html and with what I took to be geometrick or astronomick. tho' beyond what I can reveal. By which he meant also to mock my fears. nay. other signs. I'll take you now for an honest fool. yet told me nothing. and spoke again of this person he would meet. Did you not think. he gave you to understand.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. There were many numbers on the sheet he passed to me. Q. Q. Then I flatter myself Mr B. against which were writ. where I left him on the morrow.of astrology. or belief or interest in it? A. even were it no more than you have just suggested. Though one must suppose. He might seem to inform me. Did Mr B. sir. I know not what. Q.. I fear you will call me a fool. some learned recluse? A. Thereafter he grew more serious. I know little of the learned sciences.. as the poor mute Dick before himself. In sum. A. tho' abbreviate. concerning his searching his life's meridian. that came to me later. with a far less credible account? A. why does he mar a plausible tale. If I give you a reason for it.

sir. May a man not sleep with his wife. Mr Ayscough. sir.processtext. None. What said he to that? A. You had no more converse that night? A. Yes. http://www. Jones and I had aired much in our speculations. Q. Nor why a comely. for he said. A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Now let us come to Jones. Q. from this conversation. without hope or prospect. He gave me no warning. This concluded your dealing on that evening? A. and at others. that though he must perforce deceive me. and so I did tell him of what Jones had believed her to be. Mr Ayscough. but never that. he said it should be done the next morning. Yes. Sir. well-spoken young woman such as she should join her fate to such a deficient creature as Dick. Upon one matter only. how was that settled? A. to this day I know not what to presume. As it was indeed. Why should they have hidden that they were married? A. that all is riddle. that he would in all play the jack with me and never discoursed of these matters but to deceive. yet that we suspected his man was privy to her bed. I forget. Your agreed reward. when I came to Exeter. Q. yet again. he did regret it sincerely. Q. Beyond that he did assure me of his esteem for me. and also begged me to keep or sell the horse. When he gave me the bill in settlement. Which I thought handsome of Q. I was the too discomfited.html he had hitherto given you to believe? A. and I replied. And you presume. that I had been hitherto trusted so little. For his admitting that he was here upon other business than had been pretended did raise a further enigma: why we had brought the maid: I confess I was piqued. and his going off. as I say. Q. Q. and those others that preceded it. that his true design was in some way pertinent to these his hints and allusions as to a piercing of the secrets of time to come? A. after you came to the Black Hart? Page 109 . easily I could not. not the least. Q. Whether I did believe it so. What was your answer? A. It is beyond my conceiving. of that I am sure. I was not a party to it. Spake you to him. And it is sold? A. as I wished. I sometimes think I must believe as he hinted. Q. Lacy? Q. At which he did put a last confusion upon me.

I believe I said we should have time enough after to think upon all that had happened. I asked our landlord of passage across the channel to Wales. Please assure Mr B. He said he would be glad to be done with it.I confess there was a circumstance at I would not have it so. as if pushed there. after being informed by Mr B. Sir. the blunderbush I leave beneath the bed. it has been much on my mind in this coming west that I have sore neglected my duty as a son and being here so close. we had divined it should be so before we came to the Black Hart. it is respect of her and if I should not take this chance when that I am come so close. You did not discuss further? A. Q. You had no suspicion or forewarning of this whatsoever? A.and I beg with all my heart nor he nor you will think me failing on my side of the bargain other than by this one small day and if he is so kind as to forgive your humble servant and friend I beg you hold safe my part owed unto my return to London. which I must take. but as you well know I have an aged parent at my place of birth in Wales. Q. I have brought it. You had told him your task was near ended? A. http://www. When did you discover he had gone? A. and now begging once more your sincere pardon. but forty miles' sail. Read it. tho' rest assured I will tell any who ask I ride ahead for you to Bideford to warn of your coming. I mean from Barnstaple. It may be if I had had my wits more about me . Yes. which is on Barnstaple Quay. Pray believe it is my mother. That is all. I fear it is poorly written. to be sure. for you or Mr B. if you please. Q. that next morning. sir. and for the horse I will leave it at the Crown Inn. as to proceed ing forthwith to Exeter. I would steal nothing. as well a brother and sister I have not seen these seven years past. Q. who I know is ailing. which shall not be long hence. Mr Ayscough. sir. Jones came to me there. and told some tale of having used most of his earnest money to settle a debt in London. Not till I woke. But I sought my bed. Q. and our own journey done. for time presses. Q. I shall keep my mouth closed tight as a I can't read it. of our instructions. sir. A.html A. Not in the least. to take up when and where you please. and he said there was weekly ships in culm and coals to Bideford and Barnstaple and I found on asking there was one such sails by chance on the flood this coming day as I write. Seemed he set aback? A. when as I dressed I remarked a note lying inside the door. sir. I did call Jones up from the kitchen and told him what had befallen. As I said. he might have done so. so that he now found himself too little provided. and asked me to Page 110 . His initials. I hope you shall not take it too ill thanks for your past kindness that I will be gone when you read this. He put his name to it? A. for he was a little in his cups. and when I retired. I must end. Unless some few words upon trivial matters.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir . Not a particle. and forbade it. Why.processtext. Q. Worthy Mr Lacy. I trust.

Q. Who kept an alehouse? A. I replied as to you and that I was sure he need have no alarm for his own purposes. You showed him the note? A. and noted in a pocket-book I keep for such purposes. I knew he came from Swansea or thereabout. Now. It alarmed him? A Less than I feared. since Jones knew even less of them than I. you say? Page 111 . Q. You were not surprised he should need such a sum? A. Where he can't impose by his braggarting.. and the truth of the matter. who knew Jones had gone. You say at that time . That if he had had some evil intent.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. http://www. Enquired you at the inn as to this . Q. upon Mr Bartholomew's instructions. Q. For I had hardly read it when the man Dick came to bring me to Mr B. and had heard him speak of a mother still living there. he would not have written his note. Dick having told him.html advance a sum upon the rest of his wages for the journey. sir. He questioned me a little. Mr Lacy. I did Q. I know him too well. Yes. at that time. Because he has not come for the rest of his money. so I believe he once told me. He was kind to my embarrassment. To which I was obliged to tell him not. nor left it so late to act upon it. A guinea.processtext. as to what belief we might give the letter.why not now? A. Q. And thought it might be by my instruction. Which I did. sir. I was angry. Q. Might he not have found work at Swansea? A. Then he would have written. Q.. sir. How much? A. he will impose by treating. most angry that he should betray me so. Q. Q. I know the man. Yet I thought it true. Jones knew you were commanded to return by Exeter. what credence do you put upon this letter? A. though he had hired Jones upon my recommendations. At once.that there was truly a ship for Swansea that day? That Jones had asked after such? A.

Q. but pretend it was at our instruction. Yes. Mr Ayscough. as he assured me I should. or not to try. we must wait a minute or two while the fellow Dick took my baggage from the pack-horse and tied it to the beast I rode. that in some few miles my road should come to the highway from Barnstaple to Exeter and I had but to follow that. That we must show no sign that what Jones had done was without our knowledge. Mr B. That is. or would. Q. A. No. and I dismounted and walked a few steps away. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and should with any luck find other travellers to journey with. then go our separate ways and proceed as before. I could not tell you the name of the place. and might have recommended to Mr Bartholomew. Seemed he more confident in his demeanour? A. I have seen him put on a pretence of fine manners. I had told him that. I felt myself most to blame for the loss of my intended companion. and prayed I would ride on with no shadow in my soul. Q. Mr Bartholomew stopped and said it was the place. except under most desperate need. He was not married? A. though 1 doubt I should have brought myself to discharge it. I did not know him as I might a friend. Mr Bartholomew had insisted most solicitously that I take Jones's blunderbuss with me. or that I should impose upon Mrs Lacy. In two miles or a little more we came to a fork. where there stood a gallows. Q. but fortune was with me. and knew he had no work. Once again he thanked me and begged my excuses for the doubts he had occasioned in me. leave together. That I might sleep at Crediton or straight to Exeter. I have. We come to your parting with Mr Bartholomew.html A. Said he no more? A.processtext. but never past the door. but not such as would pass him for a gentleman. Q. such as he was. He came once or twice to my house. Have you thought on what might prevent the fellow from claiming his due of you? A. had he been able to divulge the entire truth. as I chose. I would rather say resigned. There were a dozen others such as he that I truly know no worse or better. none but I held my tongue. It is most unlike. and have no answer. And I forget. As to our parting. He's too poor to be tender on that point. Very well. No. as if the die were cast. Q. He never spoke of a wife. Yes. I confess I did not relish the prospect of riding alone in such a wild and sparse-peopled country. sir. however humble. http://www. It so fell I had met Jones a day or two previous in the street and spoken with him. I remarked that the sun at least smiled on his Page 112 . or whom he hoped to meet? A. What instructions did Mr Bartholomew give as to this new turn of events? A. Still he gave no more precise indication of where he went. Q. It would not be his guilt at leaving you in the lurch? A.

as indeed it did. When I then hoped he would encompass this interview he so desired. I am dumbfounded. Q. but a whore. And their manner together. None that I saw. that he had more forcefully charged her with it than he led you to believe. Let us return to your parting.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. yet I smelt a closeness there. Sir.they seemed not surprised that you left their company? A. A. I may tell you his suspicion was right. Yes. and received it. Their honesty is ever where their interest lies. Q. either from her or Mr B. I soon fell in upon the high-road with a pack-horse train. he merely bowed and said. but hired fresh out of Claiborne's stews. on the third. He added nothing else. One would presume. And for the fellow Dick being taken to her bed. and well paid to remove himself for fear that he might tell you what he knew. say he was suborned from your interest. A. I shall soon know. In him it was naked he lusted after her. She was more discreet. and sold my horse. they went their way and I went mine. Lacy. Q. Mr Ayscough. http://www. Your modest maid was neither modest nor maid. Is this not more likely. I am sorry to disappoint where you would most have me say more. I know Jones's kind. since the day was a true old May Day. Q. The maid and the man . That is. I think I did warn you it must come to this. for Mr B. Q. Now I would put a case to you. you have none but Jones's word? A. and demanded money for his silence. No doubt they had been told that here my part ended. not a cloud to be You rode thence as directed. A lifetime's trust is nothing to a few guineas' profit. Page 113 . I cannot credit he would trick me so. sir. I have told you all that I know. and did not bid them farewell until we were inside the city gate at Exeter. But why was such a creature as she brought with us? Q. Supposing Jones had known himself right in his first suspicion. You were too fond. to Exeter? A. once you had parted as planned from Mr B. I have still to determine. himself. and no doubt more than was bargained in the beginning? A. and why he hath foregone his agreed wages? May he not already have received them there in Devon. And he said. You assure me there was no sign of that? A. my friend. I shook hands with Mr Bartholomew. I try to find that good augury. There. we mounted.processtext.html enterprise. then took coach to London.'s pleasure. and two stout fellows to guard it. Lacy. that the maid was no maid. Q. where I stayed two days to repose myself.

Q. He was found hanged. What would you say of a young man in your own calling. A. I dare say the most disagreeable old crab they have ever coached with. who having shown talents and powers far beyond the ordinary.html Q. And of his master there is no news? Q. By which they would say.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Would that my apprehensions were in the same case. sir. You may be confident. was given all. he is not so much to blame for his perversity as some malign accident of nature. or by some other evil person. I begin to say too much. The common people of the county of my birth have a proverb of a child grown to a troublesome man. A. You have told Mrs Lacy of your adventures? A. Mr Cibber. request her to continue in that most estimable quality. Q. I doubt not. Lacy. Jurat die annoque praedicto coram me Page 114 . I now know it. Upon disobedience? Q. No doubt he would have found another to aid him. except contentment with his seeming most fortunate lot. not three miles from where you saw him last. I trust you will. I thank you for your evidence. and made to appear as self-murder. They gained nothing. Mr Ayscough. No one who knew Mrs Lacy could impute to her loose morals or the least indiscretion in private matters. She is discretion itself. Now we are done. not the rule. I assure you.processtext. Then you have a rare pearl in her sex. Lacy. as it seemed. Not one whit. Whether by his own hand. what you informed me of Mr B's servant . having in addition as rich expectations in his private life as upon the public stage. Your part was small matter. You may think yourself lucky that you took the Exeter road. long before he sent his servant to your door. upon principles he does not deign to declare. He you knew was no hobbledehoy son of a gentleman nobody. that has brought such distress through her malicious conduct and ill-repute upon her worthy father. May I venture now to ask. Lacy. None the less. A. But enough. far from it. And to the enquiries of your fellow travellers? A. I have. Lacy.I cannot forget that? Q. Not all ladies in my profession are as that shameless hoyden. against all that Providence most plainly designs for him? To say nothing of spurning all the reasonable hopes and counsels of his family and friends? That is not disobedience alone. that much you will have divined. Mrs Charke. sir. Q. and hope we part on better terms than we began. They say the Devil rocked his cradle. You will allow we must both be actors on occasion. Mr B. I would I had taken no part. having presented my compliments. http://www. though it is for different ends. A. She is the exception. is as undetermined as so much else. He was set upon something such as this. sets his face. I feel my conscience much relieved. nor of the whore.

http://www. Upon my further questions Lord B. that he found himself somewhat surprised. (I spare Yr Grace some more particular expressions of this determination that Lord B. had supposed his Lordship abroad. and may be credited. but that his Lordship now appeared determined _(ipsissima verba__) to make up for lost time. but not a perjuring villain.) Lord B. He is a child at heart. I waited upon Lord B. and would be seen better bred and more important than he is. If the rogue Jones be in his native place. if he had at any time suspected that his Lordship's intentions were not what he publicly pretended. and then laid such facts as was needful before him. My nose tells me Lacy is no liar. and I proceed now as Yr Grace may guess. What Yr Grace will here read attached speaks for itself. and spend the rest of her shameless life in the colonies. He declared he was innocent of all knowledge of them until this day.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. they shall find him more soon than late. My men are already upon the road to Wales. this forenoon and showed him Yr Grace's letter and my authority. he counted him an honoured friend and was always pleased to renew their old intimacy. like all his kind. I asked Lord B. described. Yr Grace may judge him a fool. tho' he credited far too much himself. He replied that his Lordship had talked much of his tour of Europe and he had believed him. I doubt not. behind his airs.processtext. when he was in town. since I believe them but said to add colour to a supposed debauchery and cloak his Lord. when his Lordship pressed to be introduced to Claiborne's bagnio. confessed he was a party to the matter at the bagnio. since he had never yet married. vouchsafed that tho' he had seen his Lordship but infrequently since their Cambridge days. on this last occasion. The bawd Claiborne should have her back flogged to the bone. were there justice in this world. further said that he himself had first proposed that his Lordship should seek the favours of Page 115 . since he had always supposed his Lordship insusceptible to the temptations of the flesh and indeed seeming indifferent to womankind in general. and thought the wench gone likewise abroad for his Lordship's pleasure.html Henry Ayscough Lincoln's Inn. Plain hanging is too sweet for such as the 27th August Your Grace. ship's true purpose.

then this was such a one. Lord B. and had done as the creature accuses as to the substantiation of it. that in some licentious imitation of Tacitus he had lately read she was described _meretricum regina initiarum lenis__. but greatly feared her mistress's anger if she were discovered.'s recollection said that were he seeking a wench for his private use and satisfaction. and that very next day. that it was his command that 1 should attempt to ascertain this.) had declared he thought it could be done. the more striking for being found in a world of brass. though it might seem the more expensive way. before they met anew. and in fine that if his Lordship could hire her away. Yet that on a later and more intimate occasion his Page 116 . openly with Claiborne. Lord B. admitted that he had helped devise the pretext his lordship employed to deceive Claiborne. and that the arrangement had this to be said for it that if. if his mind was set on having her. and then simply. said he thereupon advised his Lordship. I asked then if subsequent upon this first visit his Lordship had spoken to Lord B. as regards the severity. lest the others should follow her example. that he himself had been their recipient and had vouched for her shills and charms. I thought finally to ask Lord B. which fear neither the money his Lordship offered to procure her running away nor assurances of his protection would stifle. that his Lordship was most angry with his parent. and how it might be managed. that he (Lord B. Lord B. then he had but to send her back. that on some further occasion Lord B. which he deemed just. that he had provoked in his most noble father. that it lay not in any particular faculty of wit or speech. who was not unwilling to suit. that Claiborne kept too close a watch and was notorious cruel on any that dared quit her service in such manner. who took their first step in the Cyprian rites. some now counted her stale meat. that he knew of more than one who had gone in boldly to her. not believing report. because that there lay some justice behind her fear for herself. when called upon. who live by evil practice. since it is common knowledge no pandaress may afford to let one of her whores escape unpunished. Furthermore that (it might be three or four days later still) his Lordship had called on Lord B. and to Lord B. that since to the accustomed rake the most prized flesh is the newest. his Lordship now broached the matter of bribing the woman away from Claiborne's to amuse him during his stay in Paris. but his Lordship must not delay his departure for France.html the woman in question. He said that he had. to proceed as the girl advised. http://www. and no one the wiser as to what was first intended. I requested to know in what these charms consisted. yet had come out tamed. beyond the carnal. since she spoke little. but will permit me to add that I took no suspicion in our interview of matters being hid. and at what cost.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. but he knew of none better for such as his Lordship. tho' it is sadly plain the noble lord played no noble part in all that transpired. but considered it no sin to practise upon such as she. upon a pretext (some other than to accompany him to France. but otherwise feared it was more than her life was worth to accede to his Lordship's wishes. eminently just and merited though it was. yet with whom he need form no closer attachment. as Claiborne might cry scandal and make trouble if she knew her whore still in London. in what 1 repeat of what Lord B. Lord B. of her. but so as to say there was no better at her lewd traffick in London. Upon my closer questioning Lord B. _et coetera__. then used a blasphemous figure I dare not repeat to your Grace. had of speaking with his Lordship.processtext. his Lordship had grown tired of the wench. he was at first surprised to find him seemingly the rather resigned to his fate than determined not to submit to it. replied. the time elapsed. and told him a difficulty lay with the whore. and in what terms. to his best memory some six or seven days later. she would come. which is why he proposed her to him. I am confident Your Grace knows sufficient of Lord B. whether his Lordship had declared his private feelings to him. I pray Yr Grace will remember. replied that it was part in a seeming modesty. said that though he had's character to know what worth to set upon his unsworn evidence. which she would never allow). and seemed much pleased.

as if Yr Grace were some Turkish bashaw or other Oriental despot into whose cruel hands he had fallen. he could not advise against what he was led (falsely) to believe were his plans. and no more was said on the matter. I shall begin upon the rogue tomorrow morning. Yr Grace's ever most humble and obedient servant. so as not to delay the news my clerk Tudor has this minute brought. which he has done and will continue to do. Lord B. but on the contrary saw good reasons for seconding them. for my man says Jones Page 117 . was on ill terms with his own father. and respectfully to suggest to Yr Grace that bearing in mind the notorious risk of infection from French whores and seeing that his Lordship's mind seemed fixed on its course of pleasure. that must in the nature of things be upon a son's side.processtext. To that his Lordship appeared to acquiesce. and most icy cold in manner. said further that he did conclude his Lordship's new will to play the rake might be placed upon this malevolent resentment in him for so sacred a figure as a father should be. and in extenuation of himself that he had suggested to his Lordship (as Yr Grace will know. the more so for being uttered not when he was inebriated or in a rage. but in his apparent senses. as they passed for Swansea. with an ease I had scarce hoped. that he had given his Lordship his word that he would keep the matter entirely secret and also that he would find means to silence Claiborne's resentment if need arose. He was found by the greatest fortune at Cardiff. and that after all. http://www. Henry Ayscough Lincoln's Inn. I am asked to convey to Yr Grace Lord by ABC Amber LIT Converter.'s profoundest regrets that matters have taken this unforeseen turn and his assurances that he remains as ignorant as Yr Grace's self as to his Lordship's real intentions and present whereabouts. Your Grace will not hesitate to call upon him. his Lordship and he should one day themselves be fathers also. and did say he would rather lose the strawberry leaves than believe Yr Grace was so. for he could not countenance such a person as his father. said he then made use of other most opprobrious epithets. Heaven agreeing. and brought to London. The 8th of September Your Grace I write late and in great haste. They arrived but two hours since. Jones is found.html Lordship stated that he did not believe himself Yr Grace's son. Lord B. and finally begs to insist that if he can be of any further assistance to Yr Grace in the affair. Lord B. and he is safe lodged. but added in some small extenuation of his Lordship that these things were said to him alone (on an occasion when they strolled apart together in the Mall) and he never heard his Lordship to express himself thus in more public company. before that noble gentleman's late decease) that in his experience it was best to stifle one's resentments and to leave time as arbiter.

permit me at this present not to re. Some letters we have exchanged since that meeting.processtext. all have been confined to matters mathematick and algebraical. and my man says he is much dejected and alarmed-in his words. and designed a summer tour to France and sir. that they heard. I had last that pleasure at the time of the election. had not another spake his name. Cambridge. that Yr Grace may see how his younger son's talents was esteemed by academy. I fear. when the weather was Page 118 . well hung for the roasting. I am persuaded he knows that they are most respectfully shared. when he was in this town.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Of Mr Whiston Yr Grace knows. The last such I received was of the 24th March last. Sir. but to no avail. http://www. then cried he was false arrested. the which Yr Grace will believe me he shall have. and did announce that his Lordship intended soon to be in town. and that they might most easily not have remarked him. They have since kept silence with him. yet hoped before he left. but changed his tune most swiftly when he was offered by my clerk to be brought before the justices of Cardiff to plead his innocence. these twenty-five years past. mark upon the justly outraged paternal sentiments he deigned to vouchsafe in his last letter. H. Yr Grace's most humble and diligent servant. to which I hasten to reply. I am confounded in all my understandings and expectations. and is grown more poisonous violent and turbulent since. Henry Ayscough I adjoin a copy of the letter that I have received of Mr Saunderson of Cambridge. I can be of no assistance in the most pressing of what you request. he is quarrelsome dissenter and dangerousmouthed. for I hear now he waits upon that gentleman's decease.A. in the April Of '34. I have not had the pleasure of meeting his Lordship in these two years past. I pray. I am in sad receipt of your letter of the 27 August. Yr Grace will. nor let him speak as he would. and so knew their good fortune. then would run off. the 8 of her.html was drinking in the very inn where they chanced to lodge. albeit deficiency doth oblige me to dictate to an amanuensis. and then watched close and listened. His Lordship then did me the honour of visiting me here. d doubt not. _Quantum mutatus ab itlo__! Nothing shall be undone that may cast light upon this most unhappy affair. as regards his L'dship. that is. that wished me well of the coming year. At first he would deny. _ter-veneficus__ that did lose him the position at Cambridge that Mr Saunderson now fills. that he may once more put forward and take again the place he so deservedly was ejected from. but my clerk soon had him well sifted. Christ's College. Like Yr Grace.

I believe he put far too much upon some trifling coincidences in the base phenomena of physical nature. If I am to find fault in him. and none to surpass. in the disposition of their leaves. and have been so since the year 1711. before Sir Isaac's lamented death. he has most pertinaciously continued his studies in the mathematick science and in all to which it pertains. Yet his Lordship would find this rate of proportion (which doth stay the same however superfetatiously its parts be increased) everywhere in nature besides. and had presumed him gone. though through no fault of his own. that he lacked the daily commerce of a world of common learning and discussion upon it. yet I may add that I have myself these several years been engaged upon a method by board for the easier computation of great numbers. viz. and more than once he hath hit upon a better and more advantageous one. and must believe also that in this he did suffer. in this they concurred: that here was a young philosopher worthy their attention. sir. and thus that were it fully understood.html more clement. _phyllotaxis__. The series of numbers to which you allude appears first in the Liber Abaci of one Leonardo da Pisa. for no more than to calculate the multiplication of conies in a warren. for he sought my advice on whom he might visit during his tour. since then I have had no further letter nor other news of him. I cannot say the like of many others. that have been elected fellows this last twenty years. whose religious views one may deplore. with young gentlemen of his rank. For this it is not only I who vouch. I am as perplexed as I am dismayed by this news of a disappearance. from knowledge. To the attention of both have I-more than once brought propositions or solutions advanced by his Lordship. fall out with each other. and a most excellent practiser.processtext. It has not been so with his Lordship. the chronology of the future might be mathematically prophesied as well that of the past explained. And he did believe also that this same most elementary sequence might be traced in the history of this world.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. http://www. or live far.. from his aristocratic place in society. but. Alas. in my view. sir. I have found him always well read. and though they did. Did not his rank preclude him. Of his Lordship I may most sincerely state that I have had few pupils to equal him. a learned Italian. Or as it is said here. whereas his Lordship did proceed by the most close examination of the principles of the method. and of a far greater still. to find that whatever interest and assiduity in study they may show when here is swift to disappear when they go out upon the world. if you will forgive me. You may know. may never fully have it. and thus suffered from what may be called a _dementia in exsilio__. The one that you require me to explain is such. sir. and saw it likewise in all plants. indeed even discernible in the motions of the planets and the arrangement of stars in the heavens. for which ordering he would make a name. There. from the Greek. both past and to come. His talents here are not common ones. The letter of March contained naught. _In delitescentia non est scientia__. I count myself fortunate to have had such a noble coadjutor. and thus in commending him so highly I lack not grounds for comparison. Page 119 . beyond the above-mentioned. I consider his talents such as would have most usefully adorned this University. but not his mathematick ability. this has been also the opinion of my eminent predecessor. my most illuminate ante-predecessor in _cathedra Lucasiana__. I am alas the more accustomed. upon his own admission. those who lie hidden. and that I have found him by no means the least skilled in assisting me to surmount them. far his inferior. Mr Whiston. that in this design I have several times discussed with his Lordship the problems of method that I have encountered. He did devise it. it is that he was sometimes seized by beliefs or theories of this physical world that I must term more phantasies than probable or experimental truths. I would not bore you. that he might make an excursion to Cambridge to call upon that is. Sir Isaac Newton. for the common mind in such matters will attempt to solve by small refinement and improvement of the proposed method. of more personal import. that I am fourth Lucasian professor at this university.

sir. I am perplexed as to where his Lordship now might be.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. for he has been good to his word in all our subsequent meetings and in all correspondence. that I did venture to criticize many of the too extravagant deductions he would make upon his premisses. and cannot advise you. and must pray one I have the honour to count as a most worthy. upon terms proposed by his Lordship himself: that he valued his relation with me far too highly to lose it for a dispute over a matter that he conceded he could not prove (this was in allusion to his chimerical notion that a chronology of the future might be established from the aforesaid sequence). M. Your obedient servant. Anne Saunderson. ban this bone of contention from our conversation. sir. Yet am I happy to say we have made truce since then.html Now. talented. This happened some five years ago. in matters of my science I am accustomed to speak my mind. and I had believed it no longer his study. As I say. as _amici amicitiae__ (so he put it). Page 120 . Regalis Societatis Socius Written by me. and when his Lordship did first put his notions on this matter before me. I was somewhat strict upon them. And so since has it been. and found them ill-grounded.processtext. daughter. sir. and did at the first occasion a coldness between his Lordship and myself. He proposed then that we should. Nicholas Saunderson A. amiable and noble friend shall soon be found.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. this ninth day of September in the tenth year of the reign of our sovereign Lord George the by the grace of God King of Page 121 .processtext.html The Examination and Deposition of _David Jones __the which doth attest upon his sworn oath. http://www.

And when I was satisfied he did. I have. My man says you still denied. and I consider myself with respect that worthy gentleman's friend. You do not deny you are he Mr Lacy speaks of? A. I knew him not.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I cannot. For I knew him as innocent as Jones. sir. or such of it as you have read. MY NAME IS David Jones. sir. that you swore on your oath you knew no such person. that I know. I am at this present ship-chandler's clerk at Cardiff. Q. Or inexact? A. A. I first desire to know whether there are any matters in Mr Lacy's deposition. sir. thirty-six years. Or deficient in any substantial way . Q. I know it. Jones. that you know are false. It was but to prove him. A. Q. sir. You have read this summary of Mr Francis Lacy's deposition? A. Q.html Great Britain and of England. sir. &c. I am Swansea born. as the saying goes. No. But you denied it to him I sent to fetch you hither? A. I shall not. I have been at great cost to find you. A. One must look for one's friends. Indeed I shan't.processtext. Q. as old as the century. 'Twas all as he says. He said at first nothing of Mr Lacy. Jones. sir. http://www. sir. Q. A. No. We will come to what happened subsequent to your setting forth from London.were there matters of import you discovered that you did not tell him? Page 122 . And shall lie no more. Not one. Q. to see if he knew as much as he claimed. I lied no more. sir. Q. in what passed last April. I am not married. and am most sorry. when he spoke of Mr Lacy. Be it so. sir. and bound in honour to protect him if I could.

Q. Jones knew him no better at the end than at the beginning. and must. but naught else. sir. there is not. well enough. Q. sir. Why? A. and so was I deep ashamed to treat him.on this as well as past occasions? Found employment for you? A. 'Twas as I did write him. see you. A. 'Twas my duty to tell him all I saw and marked. Because he's a fearful gentleman. sir. sir. He was strong enough. He was more jealous cur than serving-man in that. Q. What was plain to any. sir. sir. And Christian likewise. I hoped. No. Our first day out I would help him carry it up. well set.html A. and wished to mend. Upon my oath. without his permission? A. you would say? A. sir. sir. but nearer's my smock. I would have you tell me what you made of Mr Bartholomew's servant Dick.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Was not your employment with Mr Bartholomew at an end. Had he not been a good friend to you . But I have been a bad son. Q Not a gentleman's servant. and I knew but the Bristol Channel between us. sir. Q. God bless him. that very next day? Why should you not ask Mr Lacy if you might go then? A. and so for the rest. he pushed me off. Near is my petticoat. And hoped you would find his forgiveness when you returned to London? A. I won't deny it. as Mr Lacy tells. and I knew would not want to ride alone in those parts. I judged he would say no. And his belongings. Q. sir. And so I as the saying goes. So I did. see you. No. Do you deny that you ran away. Q. He did what he was bid. and thought I should not have better opportunity. I know it.processtext. That 'twas beyond an Irishman's belief. You found nothing strange in him? A. Q. Marked you nothing else peculiar in him? Page 123 . He is soft of heart too. And I'll allow his master's secrets was safe enough with him. for a good lackey. Q. I was wrong. sir. He would not even let me touch the little chest we had upon the pack-horse. There is nothing you can add? A. http://www. sir. that weighed so heavy. Q. God rest her soul. yet see you my conscience as a son and Christian said I ought. Well. a gentleman thinking to employ him for what he was. I would see my old mother. I made nothing of him.

and lost a shilling. And if I did. of what he thought. Q. sir. as the saying goes. Q. He was more figure of wood than human flesh. Why? A. as they say. sir. In simple things. and dowsed herself. I should as well have spoken my mother's Welsh. Quick to his command. Since Dick must seem so close. Attentive when they spoke by their signs . Q. Simple. give a hand to lift this. he would not. sir. and so put off suspicion. he would understand. But not he. Sir. http://www. of the Black Hart Inn.html A. and would dowse the stableboy for some impertinence. Q. free with his tittle-tattle. You speak of the maid Louise? Page 124 . So was he not less simple than he seemed? A. and tried to speak to Dick by what I could make out of'em. 'twas nearer the mark. sir. Tried I to ask something of him. I cannot say. It was false? A. That he would not laugh. A. Q. sir. Q. no more than in common friendship at an idle moment. sir. There was a maid at Basingstoke one morning at the well. As if he had dropped from the moon.which I learned to read a little. I could tell your worship a tale there. not even when the company was merry as cup and can. A melancholy fellow? A. Some might say that. but no more than is natural. He stood always at the coffin's side. Q. and ran after him with the bucket but fell. that I should play the loose-tongued companion. which a dead man would have laughed to see how droll it was. He says you told there of a lunatic fit one night upon the road. In what way? A. I did in that as I was bid by Mr Lacy and the gentleman.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. And did you not say the maidservants should watch to their dealings with him? A. such as help me tie that. I told tales wherever we went. That you should spread word the fellow was moon-ridden? A. Mirrors for larks. Except with the girl. sir. I may have. That was no Italian eunuch. I have a deposition of Master Puddicombe. no Faribelly. Seemed he frightened of his master? A. nor even smile. Ever found sixpence. No. Not in the particular. Q. where Dick and I and others was standing by. For all he lacked elsewhere. Q. sir. but 'twas wasted time. It may be.

In play. upon your road? A. Little. I had had the goose's simpers at no more than a passing quick as she went in. Q. And did you not tickle one such in a grosser manner. I am still young. sir. I do. 'Twas night. Well. 'Twas a resembling. 'Twas well for him. And her bed. Q. sir. To tickle the young women in Puddicombe's house. What think you now of what you first told Mr Lacy. Or rather. to wit. A fancy I took. You tell me. when we were on the road. He had eyes only for her. and by linklight. I don't doubt I was mistook. Odsocks. Let us pass to Louise. Why. Q. Begging your worship's respect I have my natural vigours. like any man.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. And of other females. Page 125 . see you. Q. it will look for the worst. sir. Mr Lacy's taking of his word as to who she was. Why ask you? A. http://www. The other was no more than spice. if we sat at table or had to pass. Was this her niceness not excessive in a purported maid? A. Yes. you are now positive you was mistaken? A. Q. I tried for a buss. that you had seen her at Claiborne's house one day? A. No more. Jones? A. 'twas well for me. I did not swear to it. nice as a nun's hen. whist.html A. She was but a country malkin. I took Mr Bartholomew's word. No vulgar oaths in this room. sir. sir? A. She made it plain at setting-out she was nice. would keep herself to herself. sir. The eye's a shrew. Was I not? Q. sir. that was wrong. So in these times are most of her kind. and had better things than to talk. Q. 'Twas whist. 'Twas fit her name was French. Did you speak much with her? A. You are positive she was not what you thought? A. sir. Q.processtext. sir. not her. That you should seem to doubt it. upon my word. they'd all have you believe 'em their mistresses. I smell a bird's nest. Very well. hoity-toity she cared not to look on me. Q. Q. sir.

You went often as chairman to this house? A. what he could. carry her victuals. that was called the Quaker Maid. when I had no better for my bread. Save that he knew she was a prize piece in the house. to one who watched close if she were by. Did you not ask this Louise whence she came. and where. Q. He'd scarce take his eyes off her. and I knew she lied. he'd serve her. sir. and more times than once before we came to Amesbury.. Sometimes. how should I? Q. Q. That was no clack-patten tongue. http://www. sir. sir. No. sir. You were there as chairman. Know you the name of she you saw to enter Claiborne's? A. Only that it was said to hold the best flesh in London. 'Twas plain enough in him. 'Twas charity to a miser. That was the Marquis of I……. as I was by occasion. Such as how long she had been in service. she you travelled with was not this whore? A. Q. sir. sir. in a fluster. And you are certain. Why. You did not know her by any other name? A. As it fell. I did. she had a manner of saying little to tell you nothing. and once he'd served his master.begging your pardon. for that half the richest culls . as to that. Now. and grew angry. And had never learnt the names of its strumpets? A. No. had you marked any understanding between them? A. sir. No.. sir. carry her bundle. How so? A. I beg your worship's pardon. did go through its doors. And we thought the gentleman we had brought might be come to go with her. before you knew Dick was privy to her bed. is it so? A. nor he I was with that pointed her out.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. And when you asked her of the going out in the night at Amesbury? A.processtext. that he was besotted. Q. Q. then sour as verjuice. I would say the greatest gentlemen of London. and such things? A. Q. She denied it flat.html A. 'Twas like the old rhyme: He that loves Page 126 . sir. sir. sir. Q. I am now. Q. Q.

So I held my tongue and thought kinder of her. sir. 'Tis as the proverb says. head turned to rest against his breast. sir. sir. You played the gallant? A. Love will creep if it can't go. she was a handsome wench. I might have. Q. Q. But after Amesbury. sir. And whether my thinking her one of Mother Claiborne's lambs was true. sir. or of his master. Q. But 'twas half to see if she knew what gallantry was. And you have seen or heard nothing of her.processtext. and that is he. And this. Q. sir. She would sleep riding. so a child would or a wife. No. Then took the third day to sitting forward between his arms. without any crime committed in which you are blameable? Page 127 . she did say it was more soft. on my word. Q. I did not. And your belief has been that Mr Bartholomew succeeded in his plan of elopement. that perhaps at first she feared I might mock her for her fancy for such a fellow as Dick. sir. Q. when 'twas out. For Mr Lacy had told me privily not to pry further.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. http://www. know all. or of Dick. behind. How is that? A. I see her now. Q. You can tell me nothing more of her? A. Take away L. Rode she most often there. she hid less. which she might the better have said it was softer between the lusty fellow's legs. by the outward of it.html glass without G. You would take him more her pet dog than her lover. begging your worship's pardon. Know Eve. I daresay my eyes soon told her as much. if they was not to marry? A. sir. sat forward there between his arms. But she was more modest in showing affection? A. in newspaper or gazette? A. which he would not have. Why. Q Did you not ask her more of him. fear it would seem I was spying on Mr Bartholomew for him. Q. Q. and had been short with me for my own good. or behind? A. like to mackaw or cockatoon upon a perch. No. despite she was so nice? A. No. since the last day of April? A. thereupon the withers. More sly. as is most common. Why to begin. Or read report. if she'd let.

being short of means to a better way. and serving me as I served him. A. Why have you stayed in Wales. I had no answer of it. that is poorer even than Jones. I have no fear.processtext. That I was very sorry for what I had done and hoped he would now consider to forgive me. Q. until this present. and Mr Williams had such press of business upon him But I lost my expense and trouble. First when I was landed where I was born. and given for dead. sir. sir. where I met a friend. sir. with him I did lodge most wretched for a month and help as I might. He knows naught of this. and I will take your liberty to inform you why. Too trifling a sum to be worth your trouble? A. it was to tell of this post I had found and that I was happy as a fairday fowl in it. I should be grateful he might find some means to send me my accompt with him. sir. spoke of a place he knew where he worked himself. And now I had no more than a brother left. Where I might be alarmed. weep as a child. By one who had cause to Gloucester. were I not innocent. How sent you this letter? A. found apt and industrious by my new master. Why. which now he is. which is brother most to his own misery. All I had brought was run down Gutter Lane. Which he assured me was done when he returned. Q. as I dare say he had right. who took me to his home and made me welcome. How much. I thought it not worth the trouble. Yes.html A. yes. For see you his old clerk was but three days before struck sudden of an apoplexy. sir. which was Mr Williams's where your man found me. How much? Page 128 . sir. sir. which if he could. and by chance another man was there.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. but six months gone. 'tis time you were returned to London. I wrote Mr Lacy my reasons. for which I gave him a shilling. but in her grave. your worship. sir. that I had loved. Did you not write again? A. Q. says I. and see your worship's most just and merciful. and so could not come to London. Yes. Q. So I set out to walk to London. and had been the like these three years past. your Swansea. and a sister likewise. Then says d. before we parted. no more than porter at the door. this three months gone. I did have news that made me weep. who when he heard that I could write and cipher. by your account? A. Q. and not returned to London for the money Mr Lacy holds for you? A. my part was nothing. 'Tis a miserable small Welsh place. Well. sir. sir. Yes. true Welsh beside. Q. Come to your letter. sir. No. and who said he would see it sent further from there. God rest her soul. A. Q. was no more. and had been in the world. we are never long together. I had already taken some of Mr Lacy. That Mr Lacy was angry. Jones. http://www. for I found my poor old mother. sir. And came to Cardiff. see you. While money and Jones is like the clocks of London.

What. and I know what you would be at.html A. I say there is some other reason. Near a year's wages. Upon my oath. You had found out something of this expedition into the West. Q. A A guinea the god's-penny before we left and else beside. sir. I am sure. Do not ships bring coals from Wales to London. It may be. How much does your present place pay per annum? A. http://www. Page 129 . Q. That left owed to you? A. You are so mighty careless of money you confound one and three? (_Non respondet__) You had taken two guineas. I knew no more than we were told. I believe 'twas two or three guineas. A. I fear the sea. You would not run away and give up all your money. Yes. sir. your worship. sir. sir. I have forgot. I knew not how to claim it. sir. Thought you not to send a letter by one of them.processtext. I asked some of Mr Lacy at Taunton. Q. Jones is no sailor. Q. or take passage yourself. you work at a chandler's and are not sure? A. sir. Mr Lacy says one. were there not some greater cause. Be exact. You are lying. Q. Q. Q. Q. Q. and often? A. sir. Or found out for ourselves. I should have sworn it more. that you saw fit not to tell Mr Lacy and that you knew might bring you and all who were associated with it into your present trouble. so counted it Q. it is little? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Jones. Several guineas' worth. Ten pound a year. sir. But I thought it lost money. to recover your money? A. sir. and the privateers. Eight. A. Q. sir. that Mr Lacy has already said. No. How much else? A. A. Yes.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. with money to keep till 'twas fetched. You may inquire. to be brief. sir. Which we took the day following and had a safe crossing.who at the Black Hart? A. I warn thee. I have written to enquire. and how near the gallows thou art. I am confused. At Barnstaple I was told I should do better at Bideford. And in great botch. Sir. Your first letter to Mr Lacy spoke of a ship to Swansea out of Barnstaple. A. sir. the box vanished. an excellent captain and well known. How spent you those three days? A. Q. A. As God is my witness. his body found hanged not a day's ride from where thou slept. and found a collier three days I have thee limed in thy own lime. upon strong suspicion of murder. at the sign of the Barbadoes where I lodged. I rode with it to Bideford and did leave it there. Q. sir. That is truth. A. So I thought it. I thank the Lord.processtext. Who told you wrongly of this ship at Barnstaple. Q. and the next to Bideford. No.html Q. In which black mystery a strong presumption is that they lie murdered also . will you still say it was left there on the first of the month or at any day subsequent indeed? Why do you not answer? A. that it is by thee. I said the first day without thought. sir. and he's no liar. nor for ten days after. But he swears he did not. Dick is dead. I swear.) Page 130 . Then I will tell thee why. thou rogue. Then I mistook. One who was there. (_Here the deponent exclaimed in the Welsh tongue__. and since that day. Where I went. his master's chest found robbed. I was wrongly informed. not true. where I inquired on the quay there and found Mr Parry and spoke with him for my passage. sir. Q. about the horse. Thou reek'st of lies as thy country's breath doth stink of leeks. that first of May. sir. like the rest of thy story. I forget now. No. you must forgive I am out of wits. for if any should inquire and think me thief of it. Q. no word of his master nor the maid. A. For I have written to the Crown.) What is this? A. Master James Parry of Porthcawl. (_Here more words in the Welsh tongue__.and a stronger still. Now. Not true. I have thy letter here. when I wrote it down. You wrote Mr Lacy that it was Puddicombe. Jones. sir. I lay in Barnstaple that first day. I did not think it material. but did not forget to send message by a boy to the Crown in t'other place. Q. Her name was the Henrietta. Jones. man. There was none such. which states plain that Master Puddicombe told thee. as I found when I came there. Q. It was writ in great haste. http://www. sir. I recollect now. Then it was he. Why.

Attempt me one more lie. thou sniveller? Get off thy knees. And most humbly crave his mercy. No. sir. sir. A. Unless it be at Bristol. Now I repeat. Q. Q. by a fellow that Q. http://www. No. nor of Dick and his dying. your honour. I swear.) Q. You know then for whom I pursue. Tell me the name you were told. We will come to that. And Mr Bartholomew? A. Q. nor whether he lives.processtext. Q. as I will tell. 'Twas thus I became entangled. no more and no less. Do you know where the maid presently is? A. sir. I swear. Dear God. subsequent to the first of May? Have you spoken with him. Why do you not answer? A. Oh dear God. had news of him. Have you told or writ this name to any? A. Q. sir. on my mother's soul. Oh dear God. Hid what. After what? A. had any knowledge whatsoever of him? A. sir. What's not true? A. though I meant well. There where they went that first of May. I have seen her after. Q. I could not help it. _(Respondet__. no. Your worship. Jones? Why thou art here? A. it was told me without the asking. would that I had. I may guess.html Q. Well mayst thou hang thy head. and I'll have it hanged where it best belongs.) Q. nothing else. Do not write his answer. I know not where he is. How know you where they went? Did you not go to Barnstaple? A. what know you of his Lordship. The woman lives. Stop. And she was no maid. I promise thee that. On God's honour. you must believe I hid all because I was so sore afraid. I know who he truly was. Your worship must believe me. Dear God. Page 131 . Q. A. (_Again. Welsh words__. Not one.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. when I knew. curse the day. Jones. Q. I have seen her after. for I thought to act for sir.

All passed as Mr Lacy told. I fell in with a mariner in a tavern there late come from Barnstaple. sir. as a strange matter. who told of a dead man found with violets stuffed in his mouth near that town. I have told you no lies till where we stayed when we left Amesbury. (_More in the Welsh tongue__. alas. Q. Prayers will not save thee. I have seen such things I'd not believe myself.that she was whore? Page 132 .Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Unless it be Louise. were another to say them. Q. Jones. I thought I was right in what I first told Mr Lacy. for he landed that very morning from Bideford. A. He said no names neither. Enough! When was this . Q. What of her? A. and that Bideford was full of it and said 'twas now thought five travellers lay murdered two months past. sir. When I had been two weeks or more in Swansea. he mentioned it in passing. sir. and other circumstance he spake of. who spoke of the same He gave no name. Yes. By suspicion of it. Sir. sir. And enough of thy barbarous gibberish. Or worst. Why fear'st thou so much. A. and talked of new discoveries. Q. Or see thy own evil carcass hanged. A. And then? A By one I met after I removed to Cardiff. but I guessed by the number.) Q.the second report? A. I mean I knew later Dick was dead. Thou'lt say them to me. by Heaven. Entering Claiborne's . that is. which was at Wincanton. To my best memory. sir. http://www. if not for murderer. I'll have thee swung for horse-stealer. sir. A. in my master Mr Williams's house. Yet it gave me forebodings. if thou art innocent? A. sir. sir. The last week of June. On my word. How came you by this? A. Q. Nothing but the truth entire. If that were not the cradle. Q. I meant no harm. I swear you by St David's grave. and have lived in great fear till this day and would have told you at once. sir. Yes. not certain information. 'Tis but a prayer. God rest his soul. Yes.html A. Q. sir. You shall have it. were it not for my poor mother and Q. his place of business. as to where I had seen her before. Where you first lied. sir. Where would you have me begin? Q.processtext. But no more.

Did you charge her with it? A. Then Dick came by and Page 133 . have no fear. sir. or the like? A. tho' it was truly to lay a siege. he'd not be known. No. I know who your Mr Bartholomew truly is. Not that I saw. tho' no more than a great gentleman should. and half in sport. who went with his lady to the Bath. Who was this man? A. To which he said. and knew him there when he came to visit. 'Tis most landlords' rule. and less again when I found she lay with Dick.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.processtext. upon our riding. as was proved right. Very well.html A. passing civility to his inferiors. as the saying goes. He spoke the name? A. and was no trouble to turn aside. A well enough fellow. He used once and again to ask if she were tired or sore. You were less certain? A. plump and pretty. sir. and spoke as a lady's maid might. I knew not what to think. who had seen us ride in and said. His name was Taylor. no better nor no worse. once we were started. And wisely. No. Nothing's afoot. Q. But he would not have it so. Q. says he with a wink. Q. sir. I mean in that same part of the house. As I told. She never to your knowledge went privily to his chamber. and our pretext that we made a tour. Mr Lacy said I maunt. http://www. Q. where you stayed? A. she would yield no ways. sir. I spoke some light words with her. Yes. I said Mr Lacy to be his Lordship's tutor. So be it. he meant no harm beyond his curiosity. So I did not press it. One in a greatcoat came up to me. there at the sign of the Greyhound. I would know him and that mute man of his in a thousand. he says. seeing I was seldom upstairs except to Mr but thought it best to make no argument. Yes. so winked him back and said. Tho' I knew not why. That Mr Lacy had been deceived by his Lordship? A. Q. Q. but hold your tongue. sir. Ah. and the girl Louise at hand for when the young lady was captured. He is . Yet still I thought her she I had seen. but where goes he? I says. he said. I cannot truly tell. or not in manner direct. sir. Q. I was at a stumble. what mean you? Come. What's afoot? I said. sir. You are certain his Lordship showed her no special favours. by way of proving her. Now let us come to what passed at Wincanton. and his noble parent's as well. I was coachman till two years past to Sir Henry W-. I knew not what to answer. Perhaps it may be. Coachman to an admiral. Yes. unless they both laughed at their master behind his back. I don't doubt. He would bid her good day in the morning. Then that he had guessed as much. To hunt a young partridge in the West. you shall hear what fell at the end. Q. yet believed what I believed.who I said you just now. nor met apart with her. sir. A. no manservant shall lie where the maids lie. sir. sir.

that it might serve thy pocket best to serve his father? A. and would not cause him concern. sir. If the gracious gentleman saw fit. honour thy father. 'Tis how we Welsh say of Somerset. and one such I ought not dare offend. sir. sir. I knew not then that I would. I will not have it. So I go to him. Very well. In plain. I say. and give the fellow this to drink my health and hold his tongue. Then say nothing. when I drank with Taylor. Jones. And later. he says. That he esteemed Mr Lacy. I know not why. I saw it in new light. http://www. what his Lordship was about. No. howsoever Mr Lacy knows nothing of this. So I went with her. and 'tis best we continue so. Q. Better a bed of nettles than a secret shared. and he says. and explained how it came about. From Wincanton on you were full resolved to spy upon his Lordship. Q. I saw an angered parent.thou wert resolved. Taylor was to take no offence. sir. I said he was frightened. to see if I might find out more of what his Lordship intended. and outside the door she says. my lord. Had you never thought that before? Did you not know the general case. and there's an end to it. she says. sir. 'Twas my duty.processtext. he told me how he had heard his Lordship's noble father was in a great rage that he had refused a party proposed to him. Q. sir. as the saying goes. You begin to cant. Q. thou art plain rogue. like all your nation. Gave he a reason? A. That it was prudent. before you left London? A. In what? A. Jones. I fear it is. Yes. and the fool near spoilt all by making out he knew him not. I began then to be afraid. To wit? A. sir. a merry place. Q. sir. I fear my disguise is pierced. Why else didst thou call upon Mr Lacy at Taunton to advance thee more of thy money . but Mr Bartholomew who wants you. And never spoke of this to Mr Lacy? A. I hoped for some reward. Which I sir. Q. your master calls. he must know Dick had only half his wits. That I'll believe. And thought of my Bible. 'tis not Mr Brown. Then ten minutes later down comes Louise to fetch me.html Taylor would greet him. Those two days still of travelling were not in Gladherhat for Jones. Now thou'dst grant thyself scruples. sir. he says. Was it not so? A. To which I said I was his Lordship's to command. did you not? A. and what is commanded in the fifth of Moses. Page 134 . sir. Q. and here's a half-guinea for you also. and felt myself beholden. You saw a smart profit. and going off. Q. Farthing. If I might. all cider and fat cattle. and what I had said to Taylor. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Off I jump from my horse. and after them. Q. sir. a great rock beside the road. Not a word. A cart with some maids in. Know you the name of this place? Page 135 . And until you came to the Black Hart. I knew not what it was best to do. seeing I did not know which road they should take. by which time we was entered in great woods and the road with more close turns that a shipwright's awl. while theirs went rather up. A. and then came I down from where I was hid to the road. to come more cautious forward than before and peep. Q. sir. they are gone. A. and young men beside it. sir. Q. Proceed. http://www. Q. and stopped at the forking of the road. Q. upon pressing business? A. for the same. And so.processtext. For as I came round a bank. and lead him back in a trice and tie him out of sight. a three-legged cross. which happily made a rush. I was sorry to see Mr Lacy go by himself in such a place. And so it fell. Then others who came on foot. And wist. from the moment you waked on the first of May. Yet in the end I rose and went quiet below and there found an end of candle and an inkhorn and wrote what you know of to Mr Lacy. They went to the maying. upon the mountain. I bided till they reached the first brow. sir. Well. sir. where the gibbet stands. And I waited a two hours or more. None came riding. None of what I know of. 'Twas two miles' riding. to see where they were and whether I might forward or must wait. No. sir. Q. Did none others pass? A. who made a great laughing and singing. to get down from my horse at the brow. Yes.pass to where they parted upon the Bideford road. it may be two miles more. sir. a place where the road became two. You heard nothing of what was said? A. His Lordship's party alone came for Bideford. To my fortune their backs was turned. fool that I was. and there I waited hid upon a well-bushed hill. sir. 'Tis where the gibbet stands. for his road went down the perm. or their ears must tell them I was behind. sir. Rogue I may be. I could nowhere see far ahead. I know of this. Q. for I see a glimpse of Louise's back behind Dick. I saw them not one hundred and fifty paces ahead. but I spent a poor night of it. you may know it without trouble. Soon he fell out of sight. soon after. that climbs above it. Q. tho' not upon the road. No. as it might be messengers. 'Twas four hundred paces to where I lay. you learnt no more what his Lordship purposed? A. on purpose to command the place. and was pleased a fine clear sunshine day promised. Tell me all. sir. They was stopped at where a stream that fell from higher crosses the road. that I feared me greatly to come straight upon them.html A.

I might see ahead. as the saying goes. for all seemed bare up there. nor none near. and set well back in the hill. sir. He stopped upon a shoulder and looked ahead. or to some meeting-place they had fixed apart. So I tied my horse. and supposed them still below. Branches plashed yesteryear. yet larger. And I cursed myself then. and the road runs on behind it. I could see at first no path. and climbed afoot a little to one side. Q. until at last I came on where a way led up into the cwm. to gain the summer grazing upon the mountain above. I thought. But Jones. At first I saw nothing. When I judged it safe I went to where they had stopped.processtext. a half mile ahead. despite the shining of the sun. Come to where you saw them first. beside the water. to listen. yet ran on more straight.html A. 'twill be worse tomorrow. and must cast about. see you I knew not where the great houses and fine estates lay in that country. I came where the cwm made a trifle more narrow. 'Twas not so far. Further up. I could not see his Lordship nor the wench. as we call it. I marked no birds that sang. sir. not more. I saw no farm nor house there. Next. And now I saw where they had gone. sir. A. sir. with the sir. Then saw I a man that climbed the side. among the trees. Where led this path? A. and saw 'twas a ford. as is their nature at that time. 'Tis bad today. You may tell it. for it goes on a great flat bed of stone. It was thus. and thought they must be in worse case than I. hung for the ewe. or hardly more. and ever upwards to the mountain. and nothing but the tumble of the linn to hide me. so. hung for the lamb. as if all had forsook it. Not for near an hour. I do not. Sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. their ears a-cock for such as I. Q. as a new moon. mayhap some six paces across. When came you up with them? A. where the stream ran. not beyond two miles. sir. and slower still. with many halts. and could see where their horses had trod. I could see nothing for the thorn-trees and bushes. sir. Q. narrow and steep and strewn with stones and great rocks among the trees. see you the cwm's end was twain and forked like a serpent's tongue. and he sought into the part that lay atwist to one side from t'other. While the stream falls sharp on the left side of the road. When I was already afeared enough for what I was at. as I will tell. and knew it was Dick. to beyond my sight. with much noise. where I could look better. 'tis not the first crossing of water in the woods. and went uphill more in a cwm. I saw signs 'twas a shepherd path. how shall I come close. and where could I but find a vantage-point. http://www. To a desert place. which made me afeared. the like. that I had thought such following was easy as pissing abed. Upon some secret way to where the young lady lived. and so twice in doubt of it. Q. What supposed you they were at? A. I must move very slow. Q. I'll swear no other horses had been upon it that many a month. Well. It lay on a curve. And thought. Q. Misery for me I did not turn back. Page 136 . sir. sir. their beasts' dry turds. though I saw the cwm's end. you would say? A. for the ground above was less steep than where I had been. A. 'Twas melancholy. A path often used. I could not say. as the saying goes.

her quilt Norwich petticoat. then creep aside to where I can watch better. Against her will? A. ribbands. sir. I know not. a hundred paces or more off. the best I could hide him in so buddled a place. your worship. Q. or more as village maid might wear? Page 137 .com/abclit. A. and sucked upon them. That if I did they might hear or see me from their better vantage. Stood apart. She sat upon her cloak. dressed out. Q. so to complain she must suffer this for him. He stood not long. Seemed he cautious in his manner? A. I will not be thy fool. sir. I should make it more pleasing to your worship's will.processtext. and I saw her green and yellowy dress then. on a stone above the stream. So stop. begging your pardon. So I took me my horse to a thicket and tied him. while you crept up on them? A. Q. Was this dress simple or rich? Such as a lady. she had changed garments at this waiting_ place. As I say. Q. as of linen laid out to dry. as fine as fivepence. sir. Q. for at the gibbet she did go behind some bushes for her needs. I swear it true. Q. which were tied higher. Then made my way on foot beside the stream. Where after some little while I spy a white thing in the green. sir. I lie not now. I am certain she wore it not. How mean you.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. all in white linen. Saw you this dress earlier that day? Upon the road to this place? A. and the day grew warm. and watched up where Dick had gone. And how as I watched she pricked her fingers more than once. sir. by the horses. I could not tell. and made a chaplet of may on her lap. Q. Q. And then? A. http://www. what dressed out? A. I thought they must be come near their journey's end. sir. And what the wench? A. There was no wind. and walked on. where they had passed. and not put back her cloak. As a May queen upon that day. that had brass ends. Not that I could see. as always before. You must believe me. No. cambric. sir. which I made out.html Q. Jones. out of my watching. and I must ride no more. It might be. sir. sir. and find it is Louise. And once looked back to where his Lordship stood. man. She must. And his Lordship? A. Q. paring the thorns with a pocket-knife Dick carried. If I told some tale. You maintain.

begging your pardon. You had never seen this sign made before? A. I rallied her once. whereat he carried it over his arm. But when he came to fetch Louise. Q. She made her maying crown. but I could not hear. I had not before seen her so sweet and handsome. she'd have slain a blind man. I could not see. for she'd pick her nosegay. sir. sir. sir. They say 'tis how witches for 'twas the Devil's horns. She was killing pretty dressed so. that she wetted not her shoes. and they spoke briefly. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. back down whence he came.html A. What next? A. Show. with little and fore finger cocked. wherever we stopped. Faith. His Lordship came to where Louise sat and she rose. Which I found strange. Q. Q. and the two between bended back by the thumb. Rather the last. Then? A. spite of all. and spoke with her. Though there was rose ribbands at the hem and shoulder. No. I said I believed her no lady's maid. Not then. as a servant might. Page 138 . But so 'twas. The chaplet I found less strange. sir. sir. who leapt in the stream and carried her in his arms across.processtext. and they made their way up the hill. and there was Dick upon the far side of the stream. He made no sign. and one that boded ill. it stood so for a little while. as 'tis said. Q. Q. Q. http://www. Did she wear her May crown? A. He showed some eagerness? A. So we believed when I was a young lad. where Dick had already been. to say. and looked as innocent there amidst the green as a pail of milk. And his Lordship crossed after. sir. across from where his Lordship was. but crier of flowers about the streets. and made a sign. Q. A. The like he would hearten her to what was doing. Next went she with him to where Dick stood. lifted her cloak from the stone and would hold it for her to put on. Q. to the Devil with you. That there were worse ways to earn a penny. She did not speak with his Lordship? A. As sweet as pitch. At the last I heard some stones tumble. and white stockings. Write. I thought him more brisk. sir. as I must tell. sir. What said she to that? A. Like this. For his face was barred by a branch. Yes. tho' she would not have it. But carried it in her hand. Dick made no jest. Seemed his Lordship pleased when Dick returned? A. Q. And I marked. Though we used it among ourselves in scorn and jest.

Q. sir. Saw you no horse. to west'd or north-west. sir. which they might see in passing back. and guess all. Knelt. Left-ward as I went. For a woman stood somewhat above them. Why. 'tis sure. some three or four hundred paces off. though I stood not myself for fear of being seen. and would know. They did kneel all. I thought at first they had met with she we knew of. Well. like a Billingsgate fish-basket. Then came I to where I had seen Dick stand before. that ran to somewhat of a basin. Your worship. How appeared she. it was far and I could but peep. once more I knew not what to do. as it seemed in silver. not your full horse. How not alone? A. And those you followed? A. more clitter than path. but sward and bracken above. no more. so be it I could not see its bottom nor water from where I lay. I marked they were alone no more. as so. but then smoother. be it not for some few poor twisted thorns. Too steep for a horse? A. for she wore breeches and a blouse. and Dick and Louise a pace or two behind. Q. no attendant? Page 139 . And I saw there was now no further of trees. Q. and found I looked upon that other part of the cwm I spoke of. sir. Q. his Lordship foremost. for I knew they must return. nigh to clift. I did. that lay to one side. they were above. flat-bottomed to its sides. Yes. and my own horse below. do you say? A. which were much of bare rock on the northern part. In which direction? A. near upon this basin I speak of. Yes. Q. save she was most strange dressed. as before a queen. this woman? A. sir. sir. On. nor cap nor hat neither. rough leaze. sir. for she did look to where I lay. though still rude. since the horses was left. http://www. I cannot be exact. no coat nor mantee. A. that now they knelt before.html Q. Why. Two hundred paces it was steep and rude. You followed? A. Q.processtext. sir. But there. Q. and more as man than woman. One of our Welsh ponies might. and they could not be gone far. sir. that his Lordship was covetous to marry. no cloak. Plain enough to see. I have not told the most.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and not well enough hid. Q. hat in hand.

sir. and found a good place among the whortles upon the brink. Page 140 . as I did hope. it seemed not dressed nor curled. Not that I spied. and that she had best worn darkest night than what she did.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. see you. and found it led out upon the open mountain. Q. If any had turned. though out of their sight. I minded if I went back a little. in right time. And when I came to where I judged they were. What next? A. She did not speak? A. or mouse in malt-heap. sir. There was no covert. Where I began to run. sir. look joyous. than mortal being. your worship. where I lay as in the gallery of Drury Lane. How far apart were they? A. and the more easy mayhap to ride a horse. No. forty paces. I might find some way to the cwm's top. No. I first tore a piece of herbage to shield my face where I should watch. sir. sir. sir. with all spread below me.processtext. Shall you tell me more of this lady that you later discovered? A. As one who waits. Q. I must be seen. Q. But I came over it in the end. and 'twas mightily strange they made no movement. So that I did. Very well. Was she fair in appearance? A. I could not go closer forward. as finest paduasoy or silk. though I could see none. 'Twas more place for your squirrel. sir. like crow in gutter. Q. sir. I could not tell. I would know this. It might be thirty. Q. 'Twas too far. Q. and there come unseen to some place above where they stood by the basin. Yes. 'Twas a good four hundred paces from where I watched. and took longer than I wanted. I know not? A. In what manner stood she? Q. Could you make out her expression? Did she smile. but shining silver. http://www. not one smatch. Q.html A. Then crouched and crawled upon my belly. Seemed it as an expectant mistress might greet her long awaited lover? A. sir. Of middle height and figure. You are sure she was woman? A. and did then suppose her dressed as she was for some disguise of escape from where she lived. She alone. with the cwm below me. Yet as I say these clothes were not as a country clown or stable boy might wear. and a dark hair that hung loose. above a white face. as you did find upon that day. Q. though I tore my hands and clothes in the first part. I shall.

had not the sun been hot on my back and my breath expiring from my running. like three who had never met nor spoken before. So rested there upon her knees and stared mope-eyed into the water. And this fourth particular. to what I have now to tell. Well I might speak of a theatre. She was gone. To pray you will give credit. and washed her face. as high as a house. for a broken hurdle lay on the ground to one side and I saw a place where they had lit a great fire before the entrance. yet high as a man. And closer to me there stood a little pool of water. To the events. Q. and Louise sat upon the grass. set on end. I must do my best. besides that they will not risk their flocks thus far till the lambs are strong. as if to mark the place. Q. Q. sir. Saw you his Lordship? A. sir. A. with their backs to me. I knew not what. Upon the far side of the basin. Q. there was a scarp of stone. by human hand. Well. with Dick still staring where the cavern was. A good musket-shot. it seemed in thought. While at its foot. No credit before warranty. nay. sir. sir. man. Knelt at the pool. Q. Speak on. Yet he began pacing on. and all with different purposes. so they thought to see someone come forth. I must. sir. I doubt not it is as in my homeland. which stood a hundred paces off. Q. made of a tricklet scooped out and barred across with an earthen bank. sir. No. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I should have thought myself still abed dreaming. Why do you stop? A. then dried it upon an edge of the cloak.processtext. such pasture not fit till May is done. Get on with it. the turf burnt dark. she that you saw from below. not half as much. no piece was ever played more fantastickal. and flat enough there for a bowling-green. I supposed entered inside the cavern. not so tall as they at Stonage. with her may-crown beside her. upon her cloak at the brink. and Dick as well. and stared at the cavern. Q. which I could not see from my first vantage. that fell to the and I thought. no. How far from where you spied? A. to change her costume. I saw her not. there was a black-mouthed cavern. Page 141 . sir. that was dressed as a man? A. and then did take his watch from his fob and opened its case. And the maid? A. Which at its brim had a tall stone. Q. His Lordship turned and walked a few paces. sir.html Q. And so for near another quarter-hour. the powder has failed the match. sir. http://www. I judged it used by shepherds. The turf was close. he grows impatient. They stood beside the stone. Something is amiss. Two hundred paces. A. Devil take thy expiring. There were no sheep? A.

so to say. with his Lordship behind. there in the sun. And I must. for he goes to Dick and lays a hand on his shoulder. And then? A. after a few paces. which he did. God's honour 'twas so. Would I venture what I know you would not believe? Q. a woman's scream. and makes her face the cavern. as if he would show reverence? A. You concoct it as you go. as if she beseeches his 'Twas plain she had no heart for what he wanted. Q. 'twas too far. put it up again. so she would not do what his Lordship wished. But he would not hear. and set it on her head when he came back. Then 'tis as if the hour he waited is come. and the strangest yet. They passed inside. as I say. Dick made her stand again. At the end once more his Lordship looks to his fob-watch. sir. Though I know now it was not. from within. still sword in hand. such as he had no patience with her hanging back. sir. and they went on. the hour has come. sir. your life is lost if you fail me now. I cannot be sure. And it went to my marrow. so to say. A. with his Lordship behind. Not that I heard. I am sorry. You are sure. sir. Did he speak? A. you assert that? A. before whom his Lordship must uncover. And they begin to walk across the turf to the cavern. I could not hear. How large was this cavern? Page 142 . yet he snatched it from her hand and threw it down at the foot of the stone when they stood there. Q. turns. Sir. with no reason for it. sir. by your computation? A. so they entered some great person's presence. you would have me tell all. For all of a sudden she half falls. they spake low. like as they are man and bride before the church rails on their wedding day. Yes. sir. or only their voices. Q. I saw them no more. and is on her knees looking up at his Lordship. such a strange procession as you never saw. Q. Until it might be the time to count twenty. for shortly he took her arm. and made her walk to where Dick stood. when I heard a stifled sound. He drew his sword upon her. Perhaps a half past ten of the clock.processtext. and quick as a trice draws his sword and points it down at the poor girl's breast. As sure as I see you now.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Which was. not what was said. http://www. sir. sir. yet I heard it. And she would take her cloak. though he did drop the point.html A. And I thought she wept. sir. hand in hand. Q. then found they had left the may-crown on the grass and made a sign to Dick to fetch it. this is some cock-and-bull. On my oath. It was the wench? A. Then from strange it grew ill. so he feared no more she would disobey. for I thought murder was being done. You wretch. sir. Then come they upon the threshold of the cavern's mouth. I think not more. Q. And now his Lordship goes to Louise where she sits apart and speaks to her and she bows her head. 'Twas stifled. Q. Whereupon Dick takes her hand. For just before they enter his Lordship raises his hand and sets his hat down against his breast. sir.

'tis thy lying neck needs protection now. out of the green ground. an hour before the setting of the sun. You saw no flames? A. no figure or motion? A. I will. begging your pardon. Q. then she did come. which found its way out by some hole or crack within and so to the pentice above the cliff. and in the end first Dick. I waited all that day. I know not which. sir. I should have given my right arm for a piece of wormwood or the sweet angelick to protect me there. A great laden wain might have entered. my breakfast no more than a stale piece of loaf. Nor in all the long hours I waited. All of which time I waited. I was too much frighted. Q. that they call ravens. To their coming Q. Not till that evening. and are wise beyond other birds. I know most they betide death. Like to a fire inside. but then issuing again. Q. nor nothing to victual my camp. None. http://www. And I must tell from Page 143 . sir. and naught else good besides.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. for the cloak was there by the stone. and made a great noise. No. You saw no one there. Never mind your nonage and its tales. I saw some wickedness in his Lordship. No. sir. Then the man and the wench. But yet knew I it had. All lay in the silence. You must believe me. I promise. I do not know. Q. Came his Lordship out again? A. for the sun burnt me and I had no water to quench my thirst. sir. It ran low on one side. sir. tho' I could see no chimbly. Omit thy pains. speak of them . You may be sure I looked hard. sir. your worship. No. nor little smoke. You must! A. dear God. Which was that a small smoke rose from a place above where this cavern lay. And my poor Welsh soul needed food the more. some searching after evil knowledge. Nor your long hours. and sometimes seeming none. sir. sir. sir. To the other. and I had not thought to bring what was left of that and the piece of cheese I kept in my saddlebag. Or so it passes in my homeland. 'Twas black as midnight. A. what I saw had never been.when came they out? A. for the nonce. not knowing what to do. Q. where the ravens had sat.processtext. Q. neither. and sat on the pentice slope above the cliff where the cavern lay. beyond where the sunbeams smote. The last time Jones's eyes saw his Lordship was when he went in. large. and space withal. For not a half-hour after they had gone in there came two great black crows.html A. sir. You could see within? A. I dared not. with their young. but he not. as of joy or mockery. as from a lime-kiln. Q. but first must I say another strangeness I did not mark at once. Did you not go down. to look closer? A.

sir. which was much like to a swarm of bees.processtext. I could not. sir. as one does riding. and began to creep across the sward. Come to that. You must. and slept. sir. to see if I could not find some water behind and to ease my legs. and not five minutes apiece. none but bumbards. and they but few. as I told. It was not fire of wood? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sir. now seeming close. sir. now so faint it might be gone. A. You know what I drive at. Q. tho' very little. Yes. A. see you. It came from the cavern. I will know. tho' with some foul substance mixed to it. Q. I have smelt such in a tanner's yard. I may once or twice have fallen to a waking doze. and I lay with even greater shadows on my mind. I cannot believe so. I made nothing then. I want the truth. As it happened. Jones. Is it not true you had slept little that night previous? Did you not then sleep there? A. Two times. At loudest no more than murmur. And I will add you more.html time to time I smelt it too. And you have not heard what Louise was to tell me. for I lay so still and the ground hard. Q. Sir. yet I heard it well. No full sleep. sir. sir. Can you deny a person might have left the cavern without your seeing him? A. Q. nor were there flowers to suck save small poor things. You shall not be blamed for this. I was bewitched. Q. From time to time there came also a sound that crept to my ears from the cavern's mouth. Q. Q. I had not spoken with Louise. like of strange salts or oils. as you shall hear. the shadows grew long. even though I lay far off and 'twas faint in my nostrils. And did you not doze? A. if you gave way to nature and Very well. then? A. Why say you. 'Twas no down bed. and liked not its stench. http://www. man. I would go. sir. my heart misgave me some most awful thing had happened. Q. You admit you went twice away. you did not once leave your hiding-place that day? A. Q. No. What made you of these things? A. sir. and all as before when I came back to my post. Q. I swear no more. you say? A. or they within Page 144 . First I have your word. Yes. I doubt not for part. I assure you. Yet I saw not a honey-bee where I lay. upon the Book.

who knew not what he did. No. No. or worse. not knowing whether I should follow. and once again I knew not what to do. and I would not for my life leave my place. he was gone before he was there. she came. which when it should reach there I had made my hour-hand and time to withdraw. And I lying above. not even shift. sir. so he saw what d could not. a desperate dangerous fellow and stronger than I. Q. Q. as if she saw nothing. and the sun crept close to the cavern's entrance. I do. I must tell your worship he had such an air upon him. To the point. of one in Bedlam. like one who wandered in -her sleep. http://www. tho' the sun stood low. and risk the meeting of him. were blinded. I first thought to ride back to where we had slept and tell all to the justices. Out upon the sward. and close upon him. or was turnsick. bare all save where no woman is bare. all as Eve before the Fall. yet as unlike Dick as could be. her black feathers. So I thought. Not a stitch? A. unless to run away until he fell. your worship must believe me. sir. then was up at once with a look of terror backward. And run he did. your worship. thou'st let the first whiting leap. He came not back? A. Then of a sudden. I would not for my fife have stayed in darkness in that place. Q. sir. your worship's pardon. He went so fast I should ne'er have caught up with him. sir. A. for she walked slow. like those once I saw come from an explosion in a powder-mill. And this. and knowing I must soon go. I see it now again. sir. Her hands held in prayer? A. nor shoes and stockings. why. sir. running. So I did nothing. No. in a daze.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I doubt not he ran to hang himself. see you. tho' there came no sound. bare breasts. but lay as I was. no matter. and how I ought to find some way to tell him privily. such as truly a man in a fit. Q. so to give thanks to God for her deliverance. Why. Why. Come to the wench. she wore her white dress no more. or what was to be done. his face wild. I thought of the disgrace to his Lordship's noble parent should this become public noise. Then stopped she and raised her arm to her eyes. not knowing what to do. not able to leap a straw. As a punished child. for a half hour or more passed. and will be back. Q. who asks forgiveness. like to the hounds of Hell were close upon his heels. I doubt not she was dazzled by the She was naked as the day she was born. who could at first not speak nor tell nothing from the suddenness and great horror of it. and then he ran on. Yet then. as I lay there hollow as a kex. and after a step or two he fell to his face as upon ice. Next turned she toward the cavern's mouth and fell upon her knees. and his mouth opened as he would cry. bare arms and legs. Q. sir.processtext. out comes Dick of a sudden. why. A. sir. Her person showed no wounds nor unnatural marks? Page 145 . so fast I must almost think I dreamed.html should have come out by now. and back the way they had come. so. She came not so soon. thou must wait. with her head bowed and her arms fallen by her side. as if all his thought was to escape from what was within. Davy. that he might then do as he thought fit. and then I thought mayhap Dick has gone only to fetch the horses. with the greatest fear upon him. and I saw him not again. there's more yet.

Q. the Welsh coward thou art ran off after the wench. More quickly.and without benefit of alcohol. thou may'st dine on that. and she threw one look aside at the cavern's mouth. sir. is it so? Truly thou art worthy thy nation. I waited a minute. I am no such. Q. sir. so was her fear. like one who was sore cold and needed its warmth. Q. to see if his Lordship should follow. which after Dick. Q. None grave. The lawyer's crudely chauvinistic contempt for his witness is offensive. if I catch thee out. as I say. I thought strange. There. sir. but it is stock. I durst not. nor pretend to be. Jones. and chew it well. so to say being more woken herself. If all this be false. No. http://www. and entered within. sir. Which will not please your worship's ears. and picked up her cloak that had lain next it all the day. Q. And there she did kneel by the pool again. And you? A. I thought gratefully. For she rose. and heard all. I did. my man shall take thee below. But he came not. wormwood) and Jones eats where he belongs. and covered her nakedness. by that they had come in the morning. More like one planet-struck. threw some on her face likewise. sir. I nor pretend to be? In short. Didst catch her? A. Yet not running. as Dick. in a silence that for once in his life he welcomes . Q. I might believe she had drunk some potion. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. where I was. below. None that I could see. thou art dead. Now begone. and really has little to do with poor Jones's Page 146 . Seemed she not in fear of pursuit? A. All her movings were most slow. as in true alarm. That was all. sir. With what haste? A.processtext. but you'd not have me say else than she said herself. and walked then less dazed to the stone by the pool. Seemed she in pain? A. a bold hero might have gone to that cavern. For then she went her barefoot way. tho' 'twas warm enough yet. Nor pretend to be.html A. and seemed more returned to her wits. thou bag of boasting wind. sir. which he does not. your worship. So I ask your pardon in advance. Ayscough sips his medicinal purl (ale laced with the recently mentioned prophylactic against witches and the Devil. But will get none. and you may blame me. you may be sure. that could see her white back and buttocks as she prayed. and bring thee back. and scooped up a little water in her hands and drank some. sir. for all the hour.

many other things. the son of an exciseman. But not a bit of it: here love of property clashed head on with the other great credo of eighteenth century England. however. its characteristically excessive punishments for anyone who infringed the sanctity of property in another way. the accursed papists and Jacobites. its opinions. its fate was fixed from day of birth. the prosperous Dissenters and the bench of bishops. However. given that it protected the right . its powers of detection of crime. because of this ability to handle the requisite language Page 147 .or far more than its king and his ministers did. and security of. despite the growing commercial prosperity of the century. from deed to indictment. in odd alliance with the City. society was comparatively fluid at this time. but were Tories in the modern sense. at bay also. conformist and dissenter. a much more favoured investment than the early stocks and companies. in the eyes of those above. he was rather more a generally shrewd gauger of what the national mood required of him.html Welshness.' said Defoe in 1703. it threatened property. but to anarchy and disaster. convict America) 'for things not worth naming. It threatened political upset and change. The criminal law had. while English criminal law remained barbaric in its successful merchants. and some talent. and dictated much of its behaviour. The South Sea Bubble Of 1721 had severely damaged confidence in that latter method of multiplying money. this united all society but the lowest. The smallest slip in a formal document. one fortuitous saving grace. and despite its ridiculous respect of. poets (Pope was son of a linen-draper).Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. reactionaries. held an exceptionally powerful place. became almost holy in its status. the Riot Act of 1715. made fat by the endless delays and opportunities to charge costs inherent in the system. many were increasingly prepared to tolerate the Church of England.and kept the infamous enemy of the other wing. if not idolatry. largely controlled the country . worst of all. safely ensconced behind its labyrinth of elaborate special knowledge (_alias__ verbiage). Property also remained. philosophers. even of arrest. That is why most called themselves Whigs at this time. One might suppose that this general obsession with property would have swept away. Above a certain line. The thing then dearest to the heart of English society did not help relax the inexorable line in the least. below this line society was seen as static. above the line. The legal profession itself. Many of Ayscough's time became effectively property dealers and estate managers. It was far more vested in a profound respect for right of property. Exact performance of ritual procedure has its justifications. The measure brought in to deal with it through magistrates and militia. as in the nightmarishly complex and dilatory Chancery system (whose law defeated even the greatest contemporary experts). This obtained from the single householder to the great estates of the Whig magnates who. Walpole might seem to hold power. of property. their property was as sacrosanct as any other man's. What the nation agreed must be preserved at all costs was really far less the theology of the established church than the right to. _Non progredi est regredi__ runs the adage. ownership. through Parliament. Dissenters might be barred from all elected and official position (which they turned to advantage by frequently becoming masters of trade and commerce). It manifested itself as worship. one might value such eighteenth-century punctiliousness higher if the performance had not also always pleased the lawyers' pockets. were feeble in the extreme. the abominably antiquated laws concerning ownership and acquisition of it. A conventional Englishman of the time might have said the national palladium was the Anglican church. It was why the mob was feared almost universally. Despite doctrine. This was the belief that change leads not to progress. that is. lawyers such as Ayscough (youngest son of an obscure and very far from rich North-country vicar). but the country's true religion lay only outwardly within the walls of that sluggish institution. by minor theft. It had no hope. Lacking even a shadow of a police force to back it. by Whig and Tory. http://www.processtext. title and rank. 'We hang men for trifles and banish them' (to the forerunner of convict Australia. learned fellows at Oxford or Cambridge like Mr Saunderson. and obsequiousness before. its thinking. with a touch of luck. early Georgian man omitted the non. could in many courts lead to its being thrown out and disallowed. quite humbly born men could rise in the world and become distinguished churchmen.

judging new petitions for fields and farms. and a shrewd one in Claiborne's terms .. if he had not been an assiduous lawyer in his age's terms. not least by what creeping deference he can muster when faced with such real power as Ayscough holds. who might in all rational justice have a perfect right. the common he became an even worse victim of pettifogging lawyers than of the law itself. Pride he has not. It had been written a generation before. by what wits he has. All ancient and established professions must be founded on tacit prejudices as strong as their written statutes and codes. besides the manipulation of boroughs to ensure the outcome of their parliamentary elections as his master willed. soon after William III had died. a reasonably civilized man also. and Ayscough the past. The word _mob__ was not fifty years old in the language at this date. Defoe had to pay by being pilloried (amid cheering crowds. a very different kettle of fish from the mere attorney. under the Poor Law. a definite one.. http://www. hedge-scouring and whin-drawing (and a hundred other obscure casus belli between landlord and tenant). if not. In the Fleet. and by those Ayscough is imprisoned as much as any debtor in the Fleet by law. supervising repairing and insuring. and both are like most of us. but the memory of Defoe's trick to draw the beetles from the woodwork did not make him smile. The joke misfired. seeing on which side the butter lay. from it. and reactionary feeling ran high in the Church of England. but had backed the idea of ridding England of seditious conventicles and meetings by depositing them all in the convenient dustbin of America. and Anne came to the throne. The administration then was Tory. the Tory extremists in church and parliament. _The Shortest Way with the Dissenters__. His movement from a Welsh nowhere (in which he was born to die) to a great English city is already an unspoken crime. who quite rightly saw them as far more concerned with stuffing their green bags full of money than in getting cases settled. he had badly miscalculated the sense of humour of his real enemies. whose squire had been Sir William Chaytor. Sir William's endless family letters and papers were published only last year. Ayscough indeed fell into that last category. from his famous pamphlet. a man who lives from hand to mouth. But he won the final case. a small village near Darlington in North Yorkshire. who at the time had had Tory views. a species then generally hated and despised by the layman. as the man of affairs of a ducal master. fulfilling the functions of at least six separate professions today. It still rankled.html and their knowledge of archaic procedures. like so many others. One of his victims then had been young Ayscough. a classic case of the misery they can cause. I quoted Defoe just now. and change is evil. Such business as this present inquiry was indeed quite outside Ayscough's normal work.processtext. Jones is a liar. the purchase of property. to wangle (often by bribery) the _ex parte__ or otherwise flagrantly biassed judgement. who drank his health) and imprisoned in Newgate. Ayscough's father had been vicar of Croft. Circumstance and career had turned him outward Whig in the years since. later in the century. To be fair he had found the hanging too much. because some of the Tories took his grotesquely draconian solution literally and declared his pamphlet excellent.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. a shortened slang version of _mobile vulgus__. never to change. They could both get their hands on property. Mobility of movement meant change. in deserting country and province for city) he is the future. plowbote and wainbote. an improverished baronet obliged to spend the last twenty years of his life (he died in 1720) within the boundaries of the famous London debtors' prison. foreclosing on defaulters. his 'sentence'. thraves and cripplegaps. and they are exceptionally vivid on this matter of the law. in short. the Fleet. He was also a barrister. He would not have got where he was. He had had to mortgage his entailed Yorkshire estate beyond hope of redemption. and keep the hands of others. always to remain static. His exasperation with the profession still sears down the centuries. nor can he afford it. Defoe played a practical joke. Yet in many ways (and not only in that millions will copy him. Jones is and must be made to remain below the line. dealing with heriot and farleu. for (though of Dissenting background himself) he pretended to write as one of these 'high-fliers' and proposed a very simple solution: hang all Dissenters or banish them to America. the granting of leases and copyholds. still Page 148 .

your worship. She was passed ahead? A. with her bare feet upon the sharp clitter.html today. poor thing. but soon I came up with her. so I were death upon her heels and she knew she could Page 149 . for as I came up to her I saw her eyes were closed and that she wept. I saw she hobbled. and equally unable to leave it. yet not so far.processtext. A. Well. http://www. then turned and faced me. you rest upon oath. sir. She looked white as a clout. Come to the wench. she heard. in great fear I should be noticed if Q. just where the path grew abrupt and went down to the stream. upon some noise my own foot made. I ran back the way I had come. The further deposition of David Jones _die annoque p'dicto__ Q. Yes. for I came down the slope before the trees began. Yet not as one who is surprised. She was. sick as a cushion. see you. equal victims in the debtors' prison of History. where all was now in shadow. A. Jones. they are thy constant state. And tho' I did try to tread softly. more one who expects such pursuit.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Leave thy great fears. sir. Q. and knew not how to like shotten herring.

then in a second closes them again and swoons at my feet. What witchcraft. Help me. Q. Had I no horse? I told her. So I say her name and that I come to help her. Then all of a sudden she sits away. below. Again she says. She says. your pardon. sir. It shall come. And tho' I asked questions. when she came to me with her bundle. Yet hobbled at once again. Then I say. I cannot tell thee. till she was dressed. So it was. the maggot. What of what she first said? This maggot? A. 'Tis only I. sir. Q. At which she said. to watch his son and report what he does. I bore her in my arms down the steep. They were. She says. I have watched the cavern's mouth all day and none has come out save thee thyself and Dick. if 'tis not witched away. and found her bundle and ordinary dress. I say. I say. No. for I have forgot. Farthing. says I. Now. and asked. What maggot! A. as we had called him. Farthing. I did what I might to recover her senses. sir. That cannot be. and she went straight to where the seam lay. what dost speak of? Whether 'twas the sound of my voice. it shall be explained. then said. I stopped a pace or two off and said. They are gone. Louise. saying his Lordship? A. but if we are not gone by fall of night their powers will be upon us. sir. and the father is a great person in this land and Mr Bartholomew likewise a much greater than he's pretended. and the baggage? A. Then. What maggot. Yes. she stood to her feet and would set off again. He is gone to the Devil. until we came to where 'twas grass again. I have seen all that passed up above. In what danger. and says. sir. And bethought me of wild Dick besides. and why Dick be run out as he did. Farthing. They are gone.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. as if I had awoke her from her previous state. You speak my very words. So I said. sir. then made me look aside. I prithee carry me below. I say. I say. we must go from this place. But I looked around me there in that lonely. Q. Mr Bartholomew. and she thought only now of her safety. yet finding it you. she says. I rue the day I ever set eyes on him and his man.html not escape. http://www. she expected some other she greatly feared. Well. I had thought me of a stratagem to explain my presence and that might oblige her to tell more. He has brought me into a great sin by force. belike still in her swoon. the pack-horse stood disburthened when I first came. She says. Then she said. What has happened to Mr Bartholomew? She says. by the stream. You may huff at me now for obeying her. what ails thee? Whereat she opens her eyes of a sudden and sees me. and the coming of night.processtext. And a third time she says. your worship. But I would not have it. and saw no thing else save shadows and wilderness. sir. that I knew not where he was. Q. sir. And at that. until she had put them on. Just so. Not so fast. and her cloak again. It is witchcraft. When after a little I see her eyes flutter and she makes a small moan as of one in pain. for I held her supported till then. You would say. sir. Farthing. She did give me a little stare Page 150 . desperate place. against my will. and she might walk. Let us be gone. or what. I have seen things today that pass my understanding. and her buckled shoes that she was used to wear. Then she says twice. for I took her arm and said I must know first of his Lordship. What things? I say. It matters not how. was relieved? A. would not answer the while. sir. I say. more quickly. I must tell thee I am here secretly upon the orders of Mr Bartholomew's father. The three horses were there below. The maggot. Q. we are in danger. more brisk she opens her eyes again and sees me full. How gone. To which she says nothing. my girl. They are gone. in lack of salts or a better. How come you here. You spake so.

I have not been kind to thee. I am not thy fool. sir. I know it well. then says. leave it. Brave words. I swear. I have greatly sinned and see where my folly has brought me. and would have it still 'cept I must sell it in Swansea and took five shillings and sixpence for it. nor till the world's end. You took nothing? A. I feared Dick was about and watched us. We walked to where I had left my horse. sir. Q.processtext. And as I come close I see a small pot spilled upon the grass. then there be no lady's maid. http://www. Still I said no. I could not. without these poor beasts. If there be no young lady. Upon that I say. your worship. I know I have seemed to spurn thee and thy friendship. for it grew dark. it is done upon thy head. sir. once we were from that place. sir. sir. but I had my reasons. thy old mistress? Again she looks down. What. I did see her plain as day when first you came this morning. Now she casts her eyes on me. but let us be gone first. I did. Come. more shame to thy master. And then I say. picking it up. and a Spanish comb. She looks troubled. Speak plain. I say I must know. or some such. He stays above. which I found secure. until we come close above the road. To which she answers. she says. A. Not this night. Thus to the word. And I say. Well. it shall be the worse for thee. and she mounted and I led her down toward the road. madness. No. There I stop and turn and say I would know where we should go once below on the Page 151 . Art thou not one of Mother Claiborne's lambs? She turns from me and says. and looked down. She was not her. sir. She says. Very well. I meant thee nothing if not good. beside the seam. he will not come. as the saying is. Farthing. I say. Oh dear God. it seemed forgot. when she had put on her clothes. Very well. and laid their harness with the seam. you may be sure. She says. and thou must tell me more that I can prove them. save I must know when his Lordship comes. but we must be gone first. except she said full out His Grace's name. they'll stay close. what's disowned may be owned. and others likewise. So thou know'st I do not lie. Farthing. And all with great misgiving. I beg thee. I say. and would ask more. Q. it is vanity.html askant then. To which she says. Then thou'dst best tell His Grace his son meddles in things that common people are hung for. for all I care. Did you not press her to say more? A. I said. Still she would not speak to any purpose. To which she answered. So I will. Thou must set the horses free. For this reason thou must tell me what he's done. What are we upon if it is not an elopement? She says. There was never a such. no harm. throw again. and so I tell her. No. and more than once. Well. Then of a sudden. And she says. and knew not what else to do. then says. I said. And I did set the other two beasts free. And a thing else. tho' I have kept it to myself. until I come to her and say. And much else besides. I have enough on my conscience. I will tell thee all I know. as one who would make herself believed against all appearance. We are upon wickedness. and thou must trust me now. not mine. sir. I want them not. a fine comb like this. and says. I wish I had never left my parents' hearth. or look So be it. Leave it. but in such a manner that said also. She says. take no more advantage of me now and let us be gone. I said. Next. Would she had been. and I beg thee. This is no novels. it near slipped my mind. Q. She would have none of it. she says.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. so to say she does not deny. I count that no theft. say I. so as she knew not what to answer. else beside. was left strewn from it a fine pink gown and petticoat. Whereon she goes herself and begins to untie the tether of the pack-horse. then. I say. but again said she would speak all. sir. there where she had undid her bundle. To which I say. and the less said of it the better. and does shake her head sadly. so I turned my back and slipped the comb in my shirt. As I count thee an honest man. Leave them. So now it is Jones who must throw again and I say. To that she speaks no word. thank the Lord. Yes. Then she says. but it is I who has to speak them to his face. So I kept my counsel. I thought I had seen thee before when we first met. What of this young lady.

no matter. the mogshade full upon us. I was brought up a Friend. Then of a sudden I heard Rebecca. Which I found strange words in a strumpet. as if to give thanks once more for being delivered. What followed? A. though I did believe her then. Never so well in all my life. and before I may speak she is dismounted and runs off a little way. and my father is Amos. of some who came late home from the maying through the woods.html road. and she stood to take it from my hands. yet no other notice. and on. and saw I must persuade her to my purpose. he is joiner and carpenter. sir. said she. Rebecca Hocknell. so I was. why. And then I asked what she meant. Why. So I sat beside her and she brake me a piece of bread and the cheese. oh. I writ her so. so I will call her now. for they had drank their fill. in St Mary Redcliff parish. though some call me Fanny. I won't have that. Do they know what thou art. Christ is returned within me. and have no fear. like one who speaks in sleep. sir. Which I fetched. say I. She answers. sir. And she: Yes. and brought to her. I must. I dare say six or seven. thus. none I have seen. For see you I had bethought myself as we went. yet soon looked up and said. I swear. I have lost the light and all else these last five years. where she falls upon her knees. and asked if I was hungry too. by Him alone. and she. and we may be forgiven what we have done and seen. and began to eat. Then of another sudden she falls in a seeming fit flat upon her face with her arms stretched out upon the ground. I had starved before. thou hast comforted me in my hour of need. could play it so well. she twitches away. let us share. That will suffice. I take her shoulder. after a little pause. Then I said. It was not yet dark? A. I have heard such from a woman's throat when brought to bed. exclaim. sir. say I next. I drew back till the fit was finished and then she lay still a minute or more. now I am saved. Then. I am famished with hunger. sir. Dear God. I must.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. What's left of a penny brick and a morsel of cheese. 'cept she must see them. just then as we spake we heard singing. and more bawling than singing. as she labours. though I heard her yet sob again and a while. And she would not answer. and took comfort to be among ordinary mortals. I must know thy true name. her sobs and sighs were like one in hellfire. So 'twas. And she replied. She said. Next she sat and bowed her face upon her knees. after that place above. Jones was as fearful then as of all else before. I must to Bristol as soon as I can. have you no bait? So I said. But proceed. and have had no answer yet. despite their cups and noise. as if in pain. Q. I will tell you. thou mayst find him at Mill Court near the sign of the Three Tuns in Queen Street. sir. oh. this last June when I heard of Dick as I told. which was that I should bring her to his Lordship's father. Farthing. And at each shaking she moans. And she says. all this quaking and shaking? A. tho' no more than two or three mouthfuls each. oh. that she was saved. but 'twas like my hand scalded her. but said I hoped it so. He will not forsake us now. if your worship will pardon. Because my parents dwell there. Near. Why Bristol. Q. I will tell you now. Q. now the Lord has rekindled it in His mercy. So I tie the bridle to a bough. I must. but stopped. http://www. nor spoke. and she replies. I said I was. 'Tis not sure. and now did torment her for her sins and took possession of her flesh. and I pray it shall be as well with thee. I thought they she spake so darkly of played hot cockles with her soul. she says. and find her in a strange shaking. At last I went close where she lay and asked. I say. No. and go to her. The wooden shoes passed below. the Lord is within me. No actress. Soon I hear she is weeping. So we fell silent as they came. and there is more shaking and moaning. men and women. no. was she ill? Whereat. I thought thee possessed. but as I should be. Page 152 . then went to sit in more ease upon a fallen tree that lay close by. as she were in a great cold or fever. And believed you her cant. sir. I can no more. Q. and where thou be found there. tho' the night was mild. Ill. It seemed no pretence. Very well. sir.

If she could take ship. and she said little better than pandar to it. and that if she could oblige him in so unnatural a thing he would see her 'ceeding well recompensed for it. I was caught. tho' not as it came. for else thou'dst have known for certain who I am. Well. They would rather do murder than let live those who can bring scandal on their name. Which was that there was a great fault in his nature and alas he could not enjoy what she was hired to provide him with. and friends and lies don't walk together. She says. I thought then to change my tack. Well. but she would not have it. though I tried my best. That his Lordship's father has set thee upon this. sir. That he Page 153 . then. when what he wished could take place. and where Dick could be gone. For who would take my word. nor for that reason risk to effect his desire in the house where they were. and we should together make it such. that we did make for Bideford. Farthing? What lie.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. it made no odds. A. I was for riding with her behind me for Bristol. he knew not how. She cozened thee. sir. And so 'twas. still I must know what his Lordship had been about in that place. and of being saved and forgiven. Farthing. if she agreed. and said. so to tell me I wasted my breath. To begin she told me she first had met his Lordship at Claiborne's a month before. he would first come to visit her there as a normal man might. I say. it was best we went on for Bideford. Why didst lie to me. upon the road. Yes. for it might bring us great reward at His Grace's hands. So we came to what we should do that night. but some upon the road that night and some when we were at Bideford. as well she knew. And they might now be on our heels. would propose to hire her out on some other pretext. Then. so might I. He durst not-for his fair name let wind of his disadvantage come to his friend's or Mother Claiborne's ears. That she took his Lordship to her chamber for his pleasure. We are friends now. as she wanted. sir. for all his rank. and take ship. And scandal I have. as I will tell. That he placed five guineas upon her table and said he hoped it would buy her silence in what he had to propose. she said she had promised in her prayings she'd straight to her parents. Death is more like. sir. where we lodged two days. sir. Q. nor believe belike even it were told.html A. A. To which she said she feared to go back upon our road. say I. yet once there he'd have none of her. Then said I 'twas very well speaking so. or thine? Q. and I would have her speak of other things. for it came not all at once. I will tell all. and not needed to put thy questions. though he seemed forward enough in desire of her when in company below. No lie. I know the great of this world better than thee. To which she answers. and she should be recognized for certain if we met.processtext. She was much changed. Notwithstanding which. man. I thought it best to let bide my plan. Art thou afraid? Be no more afraid. For she seemed fixed. To which she said. She had not spoke so kind before. it did afford him some pleasure to see the venereous act performed. such as they would never bear. And I thought then. She gave no reason? A. where he was brought by another lord who much frequented the place. and still come to Bristol together. sir. even so it can be truth if we wish. your worship. for she took my hand and pressed it. for his Lordship had told her that such there were. she did know they lived. But to prevent that. Come to her tale. who dogged his steps. Then said. Q. That she had given me credit at first for being His Grace's spy. having won her mistress's confidence. since the first one brought me upon the rocks. Kind when she called you liar to your face? Why did you not answer your Christian duty lay in apprising His Grace? A. made thee play coney to a cunning whore. for which he hoped she would the more pity than mock him. she says. Q. that he had a willing manservant. Very well.

And then he confessed that this he proposed was counselled him by a learned doctor in London. She did not say. sir. Had she known such cases. Q. sir.what told he concerning that? A. sir. After which he seemed far less pleased. with the debosht. http://www. for she said she had done his wish with Dick. But I have heard talk of such. Q. 'Tis as Rebecca believed. she found his Lordship soon altered. That she was to hold her distance.html promised she should find the servant a lusty. No. before? A. He had not tried it before. Yet once we were set out. his former courtesy had been but a mask upon his real face. who seemed as he said to her.processtext. handsome young fellow and perhaps more to her taste than many others she must take to her arms. For I did myself. Q. watching all he did. and in particular by his father. Such as old men. and Page 154 . On that or another visit she said he spoke of the unjust curse upon him and the embarrassments he was placed in by Q. Well you may ask. and Mr Lacy as companion also to his Lordship. I am to understand. which he would also take. And so. She must do as he wished before him that next night also. when 'twas done. to be short. begging your worship's pardon. recent found. or had such requests. sir. And she said she was told we came as added colour to the pretext. who spoke to her with more courtesy and consideration than she was commonly used to. as he first pretended? A. Come to the journey west . I forget. sir. How did his Lordship account to her for your part in all this? A. not question us.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. she said he told also he had tried more decent remedies. How came she to where you first met. and thus try the both cures at once. and reputed excellent for his failing. sir. That he would not have his father's spies upon his heels. Q. as we walked. who claimed to have cured others in his Lordship's case by this method. I don't doubt his Lordship had her in hiding. sir. Q. I did not think to ask. No matter. Q. That of the elopement and the lady's maid? A. Yes. And how as on his next visit his Lordship pointed from her window down in the street. with other rakes? A. That he would carry her upon a tour he proposed to make there. she consented. for she told me she then took some pity for his Lordship. Did she speak of a party of pleasure. who have lost their natural vigours. So she said. Yet all to no avail. and he gave her money and thanked her. Q. sir. who was much vexed by his seeming disobedience as to a certain marriage and threatened him to stop him of his inheritance and I know not what else. and showed her Dick there. such as be found at the apothecary's. nor let herself be questioned. that his Lordship never went to her bed? A. so some pretext must be found. by Staines? A. for he had heard of new waters.

for such was the superstition. Q. At first she would not. which came from a quickness in his passion that she could not prevent. Q. Q. That he knew no better. some bias of the mind. and having only half his wits. And she told me.processtext. sir. Well. he would prove superstition. when they rode out in the night? A. in plain sincerity. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. tho' in such wicked circumstance. for all the sinfulness of what she had done. She but feigned to show some favour for him. she could see his passion for her was real. to lie with her again. A. Q. Which out of fear she had allowed. sir. sir. In all this so far. As I could tell. She said she felt some pity for him. but out with it. she was too afraid. for she felt some madness in his Lordship. 'Twas dark. and wished she had never come. or so he said. seemed she truthful? A. tho' his manner was kind again. Yet he made her further assurances. Q. She told me he came to her in the night. that a woman if taken there might help a man regain his vigours. as I saw and told Mr Lacy. and promised reward. Q. sir. they rode out. so she were for himself to enjoy as he pleased. it was but a crotchet of his. his Lordship called her apart to his room and said he was sorry for venting his impatience the previous night. and to the heathen temple there on the hill. Yes. We speak of the night at Basingstoke? He said this. and 'tis such a tale you will not believe. That he seemed not to know what she truly was. that they call Stonage.html upbraided her for showing so little of her bagnio arts. That the fellow seemed blind to his master's needs. she must not take it amiss that he had placed too great expectations upon being roused. You asked of what happened at Amesbury. Q. she was much alarmed. He swore she would come to no harm. he would prove superstition? A. At the end the poor woman must do as he bade. to believe she loved him because he had this use of her. where he pointed to a great stone that lay imbedded flat beside others that stood and told her to lie upon it. Her very words. Where his Lordship had commanded Dick with their two horses apart. sir. and how he would not hear blame for Dick's part in it. How upon our arrival. A. Then that close by Amesbury there lay a place said to have especial powers to restore such as he. whatever befell. then? A. after his Lordship had dismissed them. outside the place. I did. On. and she must come with him. She did seem to speak as one who would relieve her conscience. What said she of Dick? A. and that night he would try it. Whereat she said he grew angry again and began cruelly to abuse her. That may well be. until she agreed. sir. sir. had no blame in that. or what you may call 'em. then led her to its centre. d could not see her face. to still Page 155 . She must not be afraid. http://www.

Q. I am well content with thee. and lie still. I did ask. and ever stood where he was. And after a while she spake. his cloak still aflutter from his falling. and tho' but in this great flash. sir. For she said she lay in a swoon. like he was that falcon whose wings she heard. begging your pardon. And she said furthermore how. his tail? A. never the less did carry a most rank and foul stench as of roasting carrion upon it. As strange again. ten paces off. Which she did. in this supposed auspicious place. she could not forget it. who took her hand. yet it was many minutes. so she put it. sir. Sir. some fear he would still be disappointed in his hopes. though she said she was froze with terror. it can't harm thee. which did by some mercy pass as quick as the other. next above where she lay. but woke to find his Lordship kneeling beside her. and she grew sore cold and discomforted upon her hard couch.html him. she had no time to think nor mark. No. No. She knew not what time passed. What followed. so she put it. then made her rise and supported her. Nothing. To which he says. this buzzard blackamoor? A. that seemed of a great and dark-cloaked blackamoor. sir. there came a strange gust of air upon her. for what had happened after in the cavern. that tho' it did not burn her skin. she lies on her back upon the stone as upon a bed. save to stand a little aside. Q. she did say this most gashly and terrible vision was come and gone so quick she could not be sure it lay not in her imaginings. though less supernatural. Q. saying. as who would not be. there at the temple? A. and of a sudden embraced her as she might be a sister or a wife. Q. Which she put down to a timidity in him. Page 156 . But his Lordship said she should raise her petticoats and bare her merkin. Q. and she said not. He bade her hold her tongue. for she feared as much again as she told me. Thou art a brave girl. sir. And that then all was dark and cold as before. And did most know this was he that she said. And as a flash of lightning. the like to watch. in two snaps of her fingers. sir. In her nakedness? A. and said she was so beshocked by her alarm. yet one not near. Satan himself. between two great standing stones. as a bird upon its prey. The King of Hell. Q. she grew cold. so be it no thunder-clap warned of its coming. and asks his Lordship what passed above. thinking his Lordship would now essay his prowess upon her. sir. and so he would in an instant spring down further upon her. To which she said she was sore frightened. a moment or two after / the lightning. Yes. and said. So. which did gaze most greedily down upon her.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. if she had. as from a furnace. as of some great falcon that passed. the Prince of Darkness.processtext. that very day we spake. No. Who thought she this figure was. Yet he did nothing. your worship. http://www. would he not try. yet must she now believe it was no imagining. This figure did not pounce upon her? She felt nothing. and place herself in the posture of love. she was not in her normal senses. the Devil? A. from what happened later. beside the warm air? A. she did see a figure that stood above her on a stone pillar as a statue might. that I shall come to. and likewise all passed so swift. she knows not how long. no touch upon her. That then there was all of a sudden a great rush or hurtle close in the night above. sir. She'd have said. She saw horns.

see you. And she said 'twas as if he was not one man. sir. When she and Dick crept back to their chambers. as one who gives heartfelt thanks to an when she looked back on all her dealings with him. not one matter omitted. She spoke of nothing else of moment. I have told all exact. she was certain for hell. and so left her. and of no avail. to slaughter? A. Not that she said. That she was sure now his Lordship was bent on some great wickedness. I ask this now.processtext. did she not. that something most wicked and terrible was afoot? She had known it since the night at the temple. I come to it. I know not what else. He did not force it upon her as at Basingstoke. Q. Q. at Wincanton and Taunton both. sir. not till the eve of that day we were at. I fear she did. Q. 'Tis ever so with those of rank. to seek the advice and protection of Mr Lacy. We will come to that. Spoke the wench much in this vein . and she knew not when he returned. and said again she had done most well. not as common master to man. What of his praise of thee at the temple? And she said. Now why made she no attempt to escape. as she were a lamb of a more innocent kind. They came on him there where he had been commanded to wait. Where was Dick in all this? A. she knew not where. sir. sir. for she was sure she had given none in the flesh. And I asked her. There. Which they did. but found herself so desperate alone in the world.html Then that they must go. Q. As she was now proven right to be. three days before. all turns with the wind of their fancy. She and Dick came back to the inn alone.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Which she said he spake in terms and language more like to one of her past Quaker ranters or an Anabaptist than a gentleman. she said as if he knew she had been upon great fatigue and trial. When she said his Lordship again spoke apart with her in his chamber. before you came to the Black Hart? A. Q. like he would now see her punished for doing his very own command. of running into the night. and how now he knew he had chosen one fit to his end. whatever else? Why went she for three whole days. she wept for it. first to revile her for some insolence that lay in his fancy. And as with her. and damned beyond hope of succour. that when she went to her bed.of disrespect for her betters? A. Q. that she found not the courage. You believed this? Page 157 . for his Lordship stayed there beside the temple. she said he took her arm to help her. and behaved as without reason as ever before. sir. No. but two. sir. she did say she believed that Mr Lacy and I were a part of what went on. on that day we spoke. then of her being so great a whore. and in no mere form. and much afraid of what further might lie ahead. she saw his Lordship step forward and embrace him. That she had thought. Q. http://www. he would come and lie with her. so be it this time she would not have it. Did she make no other explanation of what had passed? Did you not press her? A. they be weathercocks. Your worship. Were signs made between them? A. that he should be so cruel for so little seeming cause. She did know. I will come to it. You shall.

and she like mere baggage they carried with them to it. you say? A. One is no army. where I watched them. sir. Q. These are the waters of which he told her in London. and would not speak. 'twas as if they had met some great lady. And she said twice upon the way she asked what they did. for his Lordship and Dick seemed willed to one purpose. Had you heard speak of them on your journey to Devon? Had Mr Lacy spoke of them? A. http://www. most unnatural. sir. most cruel and malevolent. Before the woman in silver? A. No. to find herself alone with her tormentors. And she would know why. and there at last she ventured to speak. She said. and how his Lordship knew she had not bargained for this. She thought it strange I was gone. Where at the first.processtext. sir. sir. Did his Lordship say whatever to her on the eve. did not something in her look stink of malice and evil. as they went in the cwm to where I found them. sir. for his Lordship rode ahead. Then they went. some fifty paces off. and that did seem of evil omen and baneful prodigy. and fair new stockings. yes. Q. Keepers. Q. and began greatly to apprehend. sir. It shall come what was meant. and then opened it. and Dick also. Which she said did stand of a sudden before them. I did. that were reputed good for his case? A. and he commanded she put off what she wore. as the saying goes. sir. You will hear. There be no waters. you will see. Q. as 'twere from magic. no. No. Until they came to the ford by the cwm. she said his Lordship had had Dick unstrap the box and set it on the ground. So she said. And so they passed to where I first saw 'em. sir. Yes. But he would only say 'twas to please the keepers of the well. than his Lordship knelt and uncovered his head. and could make nothing of it. Not one word. as I told. sir. when they set off. though in greater and greater fear at this further madness. but by her aspect also. Yes. At first she did naught save stare down upon them. and she asked Mr Lacy. Q. and Rebecca must do as they. That she was frightened out of normal wits. I was rid ahead. and his Lordship said.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.html A. sir. That she might have made some claim to beauty. And so stranger still. as they waited upon their knees. before I came up with them. sir. that would do them untold harm if not obeyed in all. and twice his Lordship told her to hold her tongue. and wear this instead. not only in her manner of appearing. Yes. and that she too was to taste of them. her hair was black and wild. So. Neither. Tho' in all else she looked no earthly queen. for at the end of a sudden she did Page 158 . Nor nothing said of them in that inn? A. sir. the which she had never seen to this hour. when it came to the parting with Mr Lacy at the gibbet. A. We are come to where my waters spring. of what should pass that coming day? A. in that wild place. with Dick gone off. her eyes blacker still. of which she had no warning. new smicket and petticoat. at the Black Hart. Proceed. Q. she dared not ask more. and least of all when womanly weak. yet knew she must obey. Hiss Lordship did speak in black jest. but he said only. and there laid on top was the May dress. That no sooner did she stand there. a queen.

At first she could see nothing. they did speak. all seemed black as night. Why stop you. Do I tell your worship now what lay within? Q. and he drew.processtext. Q. So she said. but was told to ask no more. None such as common woman had ever worn. Q. And there. see you. Still she must go forward. sir. and I'll kill thee before I'm thwarted of it. said Rebecca. and turned to beg his mercy on her knees. since she was pulled by Dick. that licks its chops before a tidbit. until she made out a light upon a further wall. Q. And then when they came near the cavern. He gave no hint of why she was so necessary to the fulfilment of this ambition? A. No. yet was that smile. and she verily believed he'd have done as he said. A. And she would know more. sir. Q. She thou art here to please.what of them? A. Q. Q. sir. for. Sir. my life's ambition lies inside that place. a thousand times worse than her staring. Of a sudden she was not there. Then they come to a corner. Why. 'twas so fantastickal and unseemly. Page 159 . as of a fire. see you. Had she so lost her tongue she did not ask his Lordship of whom this evil vision was? A. It shall come. In truth she did and told me he answered. sir. the cavern is shaped as the leg of a dog. she said. Young. or crazed. What said his Lordship to her when she would not go into the cavern? You said. as it began. Damn thee. She did not speak? A. I forget. among others. A. was opened such a scene as turned her poor mortal blood to ice. you will not credit me. that she might. Q. and she could no more. soon she would see. Q. a greater part opened where it bent back somewhat. How old was she? A. and smelt the burning of it. that she was sullen and rebellious and he would not stand for it from a whore already bought. but disappeared into thin air. And she said his hand trembled like one in a fever. she said he said. have mocked them for their shape and fashion.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. not even such she had seen in masque and pantomime or the like of London. yet 'twas part so they were expected. though different in all else. sir. Which notion she took also from that neither his Lordship nor Dick did seem set aback at this most sinister spirit. sir. and all. stood there in silence. 'twas as a spider might smile upon a fly fallen in its web. Thou shalt. sir. sir. Not one. These clothes of silver . of Rebecca's own age. had she seen them in circumstance less awful. http://www. more it were familiar. How did this encounter end? A. More smile upon them. had she not obeyed. man? A.

I blush to tell. to say she knew what Rebecca did.processtext. this was Satan in person? That is. sir. As sure she was 'twas him in the flesh. But so I must. she knew upon the instant who he was and what dreadful plight she was now in. Sir. where he seemed as dark and his lips full-fleshed as a blackamoor's. and his Lordship spoke in a tongue she could not follow. A.html Q. as it might be a hangman. sir. for the youngest hag pointed a finger of accusation to her. Satan. Jones. it may be. she said. black as Ham. sir. Of what happened next she knew not. Next. She was formal. So she said. and could not. to have his will.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and did hold a bellows in her hand. No more the Rebecca of old. and more than once. And tho' she had seen him but in a glimpse before. and make her go forward toward the fire. if thou dost not make haste. Now think. Q. I will tell you now. I pray your worship remember that. while the other that was third span thread upon a wheel. tho' now she was garbed all in black. as if her swooning had not spared her and some rude forcing had taken place. 'spite she began to weep and did beg for mercy. For she was forced back upon the ground. plain as I see you. Her very words. sir. and how another did sit with a great black cat and a raven at her sides. Q. Stop. And how behind these three stood one dressed in a dark cloak and masked. tho' 'twas without speaking. Then that she peeped open her eyes and saw what she could scarce believe. and knew not how long she lay in her swoon. as if they awaited this. but finished it not. Sir. who she knew at once for witches. it seemed with great respect. sir. The strumpet was lying in her teeth. Not some tricked-up semblance? A. her familiars. 'twas no sooner Page 160 . sir. holding her still for the hags to feel her. sir. She would run off. And how next the two older witches came to her and began to pinch and feel her so she were a trussed fowl. I know not now what to believe. like they were hodmandod cannibals as well as witches. And again she would escape. Satan came closer from where he stood. until he stood naked. for she thought this her Day of Judgement. The while of which. sir. for they stared most balefully. but that the mask covered not his mouth. which I heard. And how one was she they had met in their coming. see you. she must suppose dragged or carried there. as he stood above as the horse we rode was horse. sir. while the two hags went to their master and served as his tire-maids. gave them his nether parts to kiss. proud in his demon's lust and would come down upon her. and he married them. yet in seeming expectation. yet seemed to stare upon her with eyes as red as fire behind his mask. this is beyond my belief. I asked her later that very question. And I fear the same when you hear. Q. And cried out loud in her horror. for she said she swooned. save I am certain that some most strange thing happened. Very well. Bezzle Bob as the common say. yet did not loose their hold upon her. and that this black wedding. sir. I'll credit thee the greatest flogging of your life. as one might speak to a great lord or king. and blessed them in evil jest. http://www. did Dick and his Lordship not hold her so tight. sir. And she said she began to say the Lord's Prayer beneath her breath. Proceed. She was much changed. for Dick and his Lordship stood as ones tranced. A. not one for some purpose dressed to impose upon her. There in the great inner chamber of the cavern she saw a fire and by it two hideous old women and a younger. the more the two hags cackled and felt her body. Tho' Satan said not a word. or made out to do so in blasphemous mock. But she would not have it. and tell me this. and felt a great pain in her privities. A. but must. That did smell most vile. Jones. And she said they who held her had been pillars of flint for all they seemed to hear. And the more she cried. as I told. punishment upon her for all her past sins at Mother Claiborne's. Where they stopped. which they did. rank as goats. the younger. I tell as told. but that when she woke she found herself lying on one side. though she still wept and cried. the better to view this sport. for the young hag and his Lordship stood naked before the Devil like man and bride.

Q. Shouldst thou speak and I hear. I swear I shall not. Q. Its effect drowsing. Do you say. or by Heavens thou art dead.processtext. yet somehow she knew they were both the one. A. it is thy doom soon after. as in some noble house. tho' swart of skin. sir. more like his Lordship's. So she said. so a gentleman might show a lady his estate and its possessions. That in some interval in these foul diversions one of the hags came and shook her by the shoulder where she lay. She spake not of such a vile act in the particular? A. Most clear. sir. as of aloes or venomed toadstools. They spake no word? Page 161 . as 'tis said witches do in their covens. So be it when she chanced to look more closely on his face. http://www. or gallery. for soon she fell asleep. And had better not. This is my question. Certain. and like waking. as if to see whether she waked yet. so real it seemed. Very well.html done in such wicked form than done in the flesh. Whereupon the hag went off and fetched some potion and forced her to take some in her save the black wedding she did not tell what she saw. who now treated her with a seeming courtesy. Rebecca made pretence of being still swooned. as though to cover her. his Lordship was cured of his previous state and seemed most eager in the lewdness. 'Twas nauseous and bitter. and all about the fire fell likewise to practising abominations among themselves. Q. Now I ask this. Now tell on as she told. And you must forgive me. upon my life. Q. Jones? A. Dick and his master. Yes. tho' he said nothing. sir. Q. no more than that it took place. in a black suit. Is that most clear? A. sir. Said she that among these lecherous abominations that she saw there was one practised between his Lordship and his man alone? A. for she had a dream that seemed not a dream. Jones. it was not he she had seen in the cavern. Saw you no sign. as your worship might think. despite this strangeness. In it she walked down a passage-hall. You are certain. it matters not when or where upon your journey. Q. sir. that was hung with great tapestries as far as she could see. And the Devil was beside her.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. No. Why. Q. yet none like this. sir. the Devil and his handmaids. of such an unnatural relationship between his Lordship and Dick? A. but first I make warning. Q. even the raven stood upon the cat. What is said here between us thou shalt not repeat. All. and how she had seen somewhat in this guise at Claiborne's. No. said Rebecca. no. his Lordship also? A. as if to vie with the Devil himself. yet had no relief in it. Sir.

sometimes shadowed and hard to discern. And the Devil himself in all. as in your true pictured hanging. Yet she felt none upon her face. yet could find none. these hangings? A. and most terribly. sir. who wept like Rebecca herself and seemed to raise her arms towards her as a child to its mother. 'twas a barefoot beggar girl in rags. Page 162 . You must believe me. sir. as sisters might. Why. such as waking she could not have borne to see but did seem now obliged to study. That while they walked he would touch her arm and show her this or that of the hangings. through a window. she saw these hangings lay not still. she could feel no heat herself.html A. And how did this dream end? A. there appeared no stitches nor threads. I am near. and was stricken with pity and sorrow for her. like as she had no lids to close her eyes against such inhuman cruelty. tho' silent. as he might point to a picture by some. for there was no windows. but still was made to stop and unwillingly to look where she had already seen more than enough. sir. And as she looked the furthest scenes would seem of a sudden brought close. so to say. So. A. sir. What showed they. How there was death in all. she said all was fire. she did mean it in her soul. as she was before her coming to London. the very scene they would represent seemed acted again. a cross. and tho' 'twas in her seeing. Conclude. And began to look in these hangings for some sign of him. Some little hope began to spring in her breast that Christ lay there. For Satan had only to point. and whence came this greater light. for she said in that it seemed truly as in a dream. she said she believed it her own self. as if touched by some wind or air behind them. see what good helpers I have in this world. And I must not forget. sir. or so she put it. yet could see the little beggar-girl that reached to her did so feel it. sir. a need for Christ our Redeemer. albeit now. And must offend belief again. sir. the bespeaker. yet even that light seemed most diabolickal. perhaps the child's clothes (though she had been poor. for she saw a wall that closed it and upon it a hanging that seemed to shine with a greater light. sir. And I forget. tho' none to be seen. no flambeaux. not even the smallest candle. sir. Q. great master of the brush or pencil. And moreover. and the next as from ten paces poor innocent children being put to the sword or their mother ravished before their eyes. they swole and fell. a crucifix. And would reach to save her. They moved. And so lifelike. as they walked this dark gallery. she said when it seemed they might touch 'twas as if a pane of glass lay between them. as far as she could see. No. that they had once lain close in love and affection. Then. though she could not yet make out what it showed. upon reflection. she said all kind of most monstrous horror and cruelty of man against man. then stood she above the victim's face in his agony. how for some reason. she was never a beggar) she did not in her dream know herself. till at last they came to a place where this Devil's gallery seemed to end. She felt a great thirst. with a malignant smile. For as she came close she saw it was no Christ portrayed. as commanded. at others standing aloof. sir. endless fire under an endless night. but could not. as on a stage for one who stood close by in the pit. Q. she said all was in a poor light. yet moving as in life. there came to her as she tried in vain to touch and save the child a belief she had known her before. said she. And she would hasten to it. And behind. How one moment she might view as if from a hill a city below being pillaged by soldiers. she could bear it no more. as we all hope at the end of our travails in this world. sir. And the more horror still because the figures and nature therein stood not fixed. 'Twas the greatest deceiving of all. And yet she must look at all. My work is done for me.processtext. however much she tried. no lustres. and willy-nilly her gaze must follow. she said as she told it me. A torture chamber. why. http://www. sometimes taking a main part. sir. sir. no.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and broke away and raised her petticoats and ran to where she thought her thirst should be quenched.

sir. Q. He deserves to be hanged who would believe a word of this. For now the fire was embers. A. And I began to weep again. Saw she no passage or way farther into this cavern than she went herself? A. as I have told before. A. http://www. as she told. one I once knew well. Now. Then the cavern must have its inner parts. Well. This passed sooner than I can speak it. then added. And how looked He at thee? And she said. No. yet must let him see her anger at the least. Our Lord Jesus Christ. Thou hast me well used by now. sir. to say they too knew who was the beggar-girl lost in hell-fire. sir. And so she left. Q. Yea. For her features seemed to melt. or only hick. I knew not what to say. All that had been there as I came was gone. who watched me sadly. Q. but waked before it could take place. For I seemed to stand upon a Bristol quay. and she burnt not as flesh does. if you may picture it. when I was but more as wax will. that was all that was left. sir. Farthing. Was he not there? And she said. but yea. so I said. And thus she turned to face Satan. though in anevil dream. You would say Our Lord? And she said.processtext. thinking them natural. and all the others vanished. A yes. sir. and found herself as before. And now she felt a great despair and rage. Old women may credit that. I said I should not. She said in her dream she would fain run on her Bristol quay to fall to her knees before the Lord and her parents. or they might have turned themselves to other creatures I had not marked. too. He was not there. Thou must not mock me. That lay behind. It seemed best policy to believe her then. As d had looked at the little beggar-girl. to my eyes. Q. But yet there stood no ice-cold pane between us. for I had known him well. she stopped. and to drip down and fall. How the flames gained upon the beggar-girl. Sir.html Q. a thousand times yea. She knew not what to do. you should have pitched her off your horse into the nearest ditch. like my father. And how did these others vanish. yet said there must be. or fat too near a fire. To her waking. I have told all I can. sir. which only then the flames did eat and made a blackened smoke thereof. and tho' not a word was spoke. and I knew I might still be saved. Q. Dost understand? I said. and drain to a pool of grease. And it may be it ran under its hill and out upon another side. saying they had not left. A. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. she said. And on it stood my parents. Q. sir. such as the ravens I spake of. sir. Beside them stood another. to her great relief alone. There. I asked the same. as happens in dreams before sleeping eyes. tho' younger and most sweet of face. Seemed the land apt to provide it? Page 163 . who she took must be behind. for this burning of the beggar-girl seemed to her the most cruel and unjust of all she had seen. Offend. And is this the gloss she put upon such a farrago? She is brought to sainthood by hobnobbing and coupling with Lucifer himself? Why. did she suppose? Upon a broomstick? A. Not I. No. save her very voice and the circumstance. or boiled into wax himself. And d asked. She could tell no better than I. a carpenter by his apron. On which she was silent a moment. in the cavern. tho' naked and bitter cold. Next she said. man.

without my seeing. out of all nature. by what had passed. Q. This humming you spake of also . And this speaking of a maggot. Yet felt she was answered. but after. Jones. I do not conceive. Now consider this.was there not an issue above? A. . that circled more swift than eye could follow. You fall on the wench. plainly. as she said. Q.html A. that she called the good Samaritan. as if sore afraid? A. I doubt such a one five persons might have passed from. when first you came upon her? A.enquired you concerning that? A. sir. and you two or three hundred paces off? 'Tis not to be believed. Which she did. in thinking that she must have his seed in her womb? I do not mean at the telling. at her smallest touch. No. It may be. when she least expects and desires. in her dream. yes. sir. No. And more and more full of the divine presence. That she heard no answer there. sir. Q. And she believed it was because she prayed as she lay there and begged God's mercy on her sins. We spake of that. A. She said it was from one of the hangings in her dream. I could not know how it lay. we'll not go into that. when she met me. sir. Why.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. so that in the end she must thank the Lord and solemnly renew the promise she had made. the light as she called it. Q.processtext. unburied. No. felt more sure still. the while she lay drugged. Naught. Q. sir. Least of all Page 164 . sir. and swore with all her heart she would never do such again. What. and we came down safely. and found herself rid of her persecutors. Q. with the shaking and sobbing I told of. she could not forget it. http://www. sir. sir. sir. Or the light. And Rebecca said it came from the great spinning wheel I spake of. well. This smoke you saw . Q. and one of which was monstrous large. For there she saw a fair corse of a young lady being gnawed by a seethe of maggots as it lay. Q. but much of the great mercy of her escape.there behind the cliff. beyond the supposing the fellow driven at the end out of his wits. all gone. You are certain she intended you to believe that Satan had lain with her? Seemed she in pain as she rode? A. and finding Christ again. in the manner of her religion. Q. If all she said were true. as she lay. I did. in a close cavern. if He would succour her now in her extremity. And when she did wake. that one of the hags had beside her. Why lay she not murdered or spirited away with the rest? A. That he should come and not claim. how comes it to pass that she is let escape to tell all? That Satan in person may come and claim his own. see you. Did she not speak of it again? A. in the Devil's gallery. sir. What said she of Dick's running out. Showed she no great abhorrence or horror.

The next morning? Page 165 . she had given me her father's name and his place of abode. she says. You lay in the fields? A. but I was tired.could not. And moreover warns thee that what passed was so loathsome and terrible a commerce that thou'lt be held for a blasphemous liar if thou tell it. which was not of accusing or reproach. yet thou know'st it wrong. wilt murder me for my gold? 'Tis easy enough. though all seemed asleep. if I was to be one day taken up and questioned. I shall tho' she knew I did not. and a fellow cried after us. admixed of superstition and quack conversion and plays the repentant fallen woman in need of thy protection. sir. 'tis the gold. and feared the watchmen of Bideford worse. all of that day seemed lik-e a dream to me also. I doubt not thou art poor. and thee and thy failings. That might be. that how whatsoever was done. I should be in great trouble if I told truth and had no other word to prove it save my own. I did. Well. If it was money alone I needed. his Lordship is damned and they'll be persuaded thou hast some part in it. and I counsel thee not. I said. sir. she said I must see now we . I know you will say I should have been more firm. Q. and no house within a mile. So thought best to lay by our road till it was dawn. and the tale thou art most like to swallow. I said I did not. Rebecca. Well. No. she said. Q. for when all was told. On a bank we found. I won't deny it. says I. 'tis the way of the world. as the saying goes. ] have lived that way. should we come straight there in the night. as to repentance for her past. I was welcome to the half of what she had on her person. conscience might have said. sir. and weak when such temptation shows. see you. sir. Now I would have the subsequent course of events. and now gave me her word she would stand by what I said. thou know'st well I will not. At which she said something strange. And we came to a stop there. I said she mistook me. in which only she could help me. I have thought the same. Farthing. and we were sore afraid the constables or tithing-men might be upon us. She is no fool. and take them. then she had no less than twenty guineas sewn among her petticoats. why. if asked. being one myself. for I was taken aback she was so sure of me. I thought most of my duty to his Lordship's father. that she knew my heart and that it spoke a different tongue. in this wild place. but what of our Christian duty to tell the father what has become of the son? What is more Christian. I smelt none there. 'twas more as my own . And now she says. And then she slept as well we could. sir. and I had best murder her there and then. Q. and I tell thee it is damned.processtext. sir.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and that is poor reward for my help to thee. and enter the town more safe by day. Set a thief to catch a thief. sir. Q. You rode straight to Bideford? A. sir. she ! went on. we argued thus for some time more. And at that we were silent. and to hide my body. Then as I thought on this. For my part I know your liars. First save yourself. What say you to that? A. and something of how she spake. God forgive me. for at the first village we came upon. to tell him he is gone certain to Hell. which she spake again. and would save thee. For this was spoken where we lay on the bank. Now thou'dst call me liar to my face. sir. but the light falls on thee as well. Did you speak of going to His Grace again? A. or not? And I tell thee thou must tell him. http://www. would believe her still till I know better. To wit. No. she says. I shall have her yet. It is done. as false as it sounds. that if gold was all I believed in. and all to no purpose. I said. And what she told of the cavern. sir. Yes. Thou mayst deny it. for I will not. To which she said. so far was it from what I had expected. she said. --. Yet humbly begging your worship's pardon. I was certain we should be well rewarded. for thou'lt get far more trouble by it than reward. and I said I would think on it. sir. there was a great barking of dogs.. sir. So she cooks thee a fine repast. She knows her men.html does she wish to go with you to his Lordship's father. sir.

http://www. and would pay a month's keep for it. and warped away. Q. and brake our fast upon a star-gazy pie. so empty of belly I was. but it came to my agreeing. sir. Yes. Q. the master Mr Templeman or Templeton. which we went to ask when we had ate. Did they not ask you your business there? A. but she would not have it. and so put up with master Parry. then went back to the inn. which we chose for seeming less busy than the others. sir. she saying I must. but my need was great. sir. but should be ready to speak for each other. The name of this ship? A. This money she promised thee? A. And must leave the horse. Q. Q. Well. and sent by a boy and gave him twopence for his pains. You are positive the wench did not leave it before sailing? A. Q. sir. The name of this inn? A. for we would not seem to steal it. I should for Swansea. and once more we fell to a skirmish or what you may call it.html A. as I have told. And I did not forget to send message to Barnstaple at the Crown. so I took it. that next morning. until it was fetched. which your worship will find I did. Said she nothing particular on your parting? Page 166 . and she stood at the rail as they went out and raised her hand to me where I stood. You saw her take ship? A. having lost our places by reason of our widow mistress's death. and neither of us to speak of what we knew. and found it true. The Barbadoes. So we made for our passages with our two masters. sir. as I had writ Mr Lacy. And we said we were fellow servants. and sail. Q. sir. but in truth I have never eaten better. I gave most to my brother. for I found him in great need. Q. Yes. were either accused. She took me to a little room apart after our dinner and counted me ten of her guineas. We came to Bideford without trouble. and so regaining our homes. I waited upon the quay.processtext. there were other matters I will not tire you with. The Elizabeth Ann. Yes. You may ask. and found us an inn behind the quay. Q. She was brig. And spent it so fast you had none a month later? A. that was stale. I spent some. sir. And there at the inn they said a ship sailed on the tide that very next morning for Bristol. sir. sir. And I would take passage for us both. she for Bristol. for where it now was. I saying I would not part from her. She was good to it.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I inquired and found I could be suited for Swansea two days thence. come from Plymouth. tho' she said it was whoring money and would bring me no good. I mind not which now.

Where I wish I might lodge thee. At full flood. Of what else? A. I must tell you again she I spake with that day was another woman from she I had spake to before. Why. You said earlier. Q. You sailed yourself for Swansea the day after? A. sir. Which I told her somewhat of. Yes. sir. that you should go to tell his Lordship's family. Q. But I had small choice. She asked me as well much of myself. and how she had seen the light and would never return to her whoring. Q. sir. Q. sir. You told her your true name? A. your worship. and it may yet prove I was. And of my mother and family. Q. Yes. sir. You may believe I watched well for him. And not only of our present. I tell thee thy first plan was a far better.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. there is truth in that. And for the visiting of which she did strengthen my conscience. Q. A.html A. she was more friendly to me in a minute than in a day of her previous ways. so we were met for the first time and she would know who I was and of my past life. if we should not meet again.processtext. then down on the ebb. that in despite of all. as I have told. is it not so? A. for all thy seeking thy own profit in it. I had not In what manner friendly? A. Q. Q. Not one. http://www. of her past wickednesses. A. And also to be rid of you. and Dick beside. she spake against her betters. I had liefer be in Little-Ease. your worship's respect. But. Despite thy fear of the sea and of privateers. You saw no sign at Bideford of his Lordship? A. Well. Salt water I never abode. also. sir. You may think I was cozened by her. sir. I desire to know more of how this whore persuaded thee from it. And try to lead a better life. A. Q. To wit? Page 167 . Yes. I did believe her sincere in that. to show us a path through its night. Of the injustices of this world and what she had seen of them at Mother Claiborne's. Why. found where I was. Of how Jesus Christ came into this world for such as she and I. sir. Q. sir. There was some great change upon her. We talked much on our journey to Bideford. That I must trust her.

sir. Spake she more of his Lordship? A. You are a plague among the decency of nations. Jones. At times. For there was no rank in heaven. A. and the world a most damned place until such day as they see it. she was cold and lay beside me on the bank. which is truth. while it was forced upon us. What. Well. and not serve their wickedness. the second all dissent. I had spoken of some past faults of my own. and we might live honestly and as she said she now wished. save in saintliness. Q. And here and there walked a little. so I did. I know you deem those of my nation have none such. Q. Which I did not. Q. but worse. A nauseous boil upon this kingdom's arse. that it was not for us to judge our betters. if truth be spoke. 'twas but for the warmth. I was so tired and footsore. yet told her as we lay. That wealth was a great corruption in men's minds. for they did choose to live evilly when they might live well. Q. She spake seditiously. sir. she would persuade me gently. she lies with Satan in the morning and thou wouldst lie with her in the evening? Page 168 . I was much confused. and marry again. begging your mercy. When we rested before Bideford. and when I said. Q. hast lost thy tongue? A. That we in humbler stations must look to our own souls. a blindfold upon their true conscience. She flattered my better side. I would take her. I had married once. with her back turned. and are all wicked. Yes. Q. in short? A. Which is all times. sir. Did you not laugh to hear such words in such a mouth? A. tho' 'tis nothing to your purpose. more we'd be friendly and religious. and she said that the gentlemen who went to her bagnio were not better than us. Your worship's respect. which must be earned equally by all in this present one. She led thee. We are not wicked at heart. we Welsh are most desperate poor people. http://www. your worship.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. It seemed somewhat of truth. And what with all that had passed that day. Your worship. And that I was no better than I should be and doubtless a poor figure of a man beside many she had known. sir. Wast thou so fatigued thou no longer played the gallant? Why. by putting me questions. may God forgive you. with so little natural advantage that our faults come most from our need. she said. Saying I'd not thought on it enough and that there was a world to come. Sir. Q.processtext. as I led to give me rest. sir. What right has a brazen strumpet to forgive her masters and to know God's will? A. For they seemed sincere. only to get our daily bread. and they not punished for it. tho' God would not. I know thy friendship and thy religion. Q. None. albeit it turned out ill for my own fault in drinking and my poor wife that died of the flux.html A. The first is all treason. I see I must tell all. When we know no better. and saying she trusted me to take no advantage. sir. Yet if she would take me. No. sir. That she forgave him. and she did not prate. I walked almost sleeping. thou wretch. she said there was no hope for the world while sin governs our betters. She rode the horse? A.

Sir. And I wish you well in it. And she said. sir. Q. My pardon. Yes. God bless your worship. rather. sir. as well as her flesh. That she'd have none of being wedded to any man. I tried again on her going the next day . That sufficed thee. I need no wishes from such as thee. if thou'st lied in any particular of this. quackery. And ripe for the practice of thy lust. It is clear? A. that she should never again have knowledge of any man of her own willing. Q.processtext. For she said I was kind to think of taking to wife one as defiled and sinful as she. That is all the good in thee. I have my natural vigours. sir. I'll have thee at a rope's end yet. But this new-found saint would have none of thee? A. sir. Thou shouldst have unfrocked her piety whilst thou hadst the chance. Now be off. sir. she had lain with Christ since then. A. and to it I sentence thee until all is done. Q. I won't deny I envied Dick his use of her before. Page 169 . Q. I thank your worship humbly. I was a good man. sir. indeed earnestly the contrary. Sir.html A. tho' she could not. for an answer? A. but by degree of wrongdoing. Q. seeing she had promised at the worst of her trial inside the cavern. Q. Q. Quakery. until my further disposition. No. A. Jones. Well. Q. That tide is lost. I warrant thee that. Q. http://www. But I shall catch it. No. I liked her much for her new . she would entertain well of my offer if she changed her mind. or so she said. Thou art too much a dolt and braggart to be a thorough rogue. Yes. I have not released thee yet.later that same. Thy lodging is paid. And in all case first she must see her parents. A. I believed her truly repentant. I know it well. Yet had no present desire that she should. sir. She'll not candour me with her soft looks and ranting fits. And thought she might bring me to better ways. I wish I had told you all in the first place. which is none. A. candour. by Heaven she won' sir. for which she was grateful.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. A. if I married her. sir. Thou gav'st lease to such blasphemy! A.

yet cannot beyond that ancient saw of my calling. and here does report of another we may fear to be a greater liar still.processtext. which is much. This also I beg to submit to Yr Grace. Your Grace. that matches all that is once caught. I will venture one hundred pound to a peppercorn he hath been no nearer Mars or my lady Bellona than John o' Groats is to Rome. My most humble concern for Yr Grace would. http://www. that would slip from any pot. and God willing we shall. beseech me to forbear the dispatch of this that is inclosed. Yr Grace may picture his kind. I believe him no liar in the substance of our matter. Lincoln's Inn. that the one witness is known liar and transparent rogue. All is on foot to discover her. Then shall she have such a riding as Yr Grace may guess. that knows his Lordship and that all in which he standeth Page 170 . with duty above all else to bow to his gracious commands. Yet must I in truth to Yr Grace state that though in all Jones doth most plainly merit the rope. He is far more a frighted eel. testis nullus.html The 11th Sept. further still. Testis unus. He is man of clouts. in his wretched nation. were I not also his servant. nay. Would that I might find some allay to it. Our hope and prayer must lie therefore in that the wench did cunningly deceive him. The more might it be applied to this present.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. The rogue Jones describes himself in all he says.

that is. http://www. In yet always with this in his favour.processtext. as Yr Grace himself once in happier days remarked.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. that he hath seemed unsullied by those nowaday too frequent vices of his age and station. and ever his most obedient Henry Ayscough Bristol. by Froomgate. 1736 Sir. Wednesday. I may believe gentlemen exist that would sink to such depravity. I must exhort Yr Grace to patience.html blameable. in his conduct towards Yr Grace's wishes. There is alas no doubt that he is guilty of the most heinous of familial sins. the 15th of September. Yr Grace's most saddened. Yr Grace. by none so foul and dark as is now proposed. Page 171 . I pray he win' not credit that such alleged infamy as here I send report of to hire is yet determined truth. but not a one bearing the honour to be Yr Grace's son. these last hundred years. as I doubt not Yr Grace's likewise. that such witches as these have been. Nor will my reason believe.

as you request. sir. who had persuaded them of better living (and a more pernicious enthusiasm besides.about the time conjectured in your letter. and so they did take their three other children with them. an inconsiderable town to this great city that I write from. there is no brother. it is believed in Manchester. It doth appear that in Manchester a brother to her father dwells. The man is as turbulent and rabid in his politics as his religion. and by this that Mr D. an excellent and Christian merchant and master ship-builder of this city. who informed her of the above. Sir. he had the impertinence to exclaim. at which Hocknell cried injustice and It seems the fellow muttered for a time of taking himself and his family to the American colonies (where I heartily wish all such seditious fanatickals might be condemned). you may furthermore assure His Grace that nothing is more precious to me than the good name of our nobility. The person stated she was come from London. he may be found certainly by inquiry at the Manchester meeting-house. though adamant in his heresy. is dead of a dropsy three weeks before my receipt of your letter. conjoined to the King's majesty. that her parents are gone this three years since to another meeting of their sect. and had there been maid by her work.html I have received the honour of your letter and return your kind compliments an hundredfold. The conclusion is. Co. and then departed away saying she must journey on without delay to Manchester. should ever hire his soul. I count myself no less fortunate to have been able to assist a gentleman of your eminence in our profession in the business of last year. To my best ascertaining she stayed no more than an hour in a neighbour's house. and all is founded upon her tattle to her gossips. thus leaving her no relations in this city. my dear sir. yet thought the better of it.'s very words are these: _as steeped fn false liberty as a cod-barrel in salt__. and find she appeared in this city and in that place she stated . from which you may judge his kind. to which my worthy friend Mr D. viz. The particular you seek I have had most closely inquired after. I felt gratefully obliged to transmit to you before I come to your directions in this present most sad and delicate matter. _but no man. and that on finding one day Hocknell had secretly won two of Mr D. though none my searcher spoke to could put more precise date upon it than the first or second week of May Last. to which I trust I may add that your most noble client may be assured that I am ever his to command in anything that concerns him. he dismissed him.'s apprentices to his own false faith. also told me. tho' said no name nor place that is now remembered. http://www. as to which I may mention that I have just recently been at Assize (in another happily concluded suit) before Mr Justice G-y and that he did me the honour of asking me in private to convey his respects to our client and assurance of his most favourable interest in any further cause Sir Charles may choose to pursue before him. Sir. I doubt not) to be found there. Hocknell was accounted here a good carpenter and joiner. and is originary of Corsham. Page 172 . for 'tis. the which compliment. that pre-eminent and divinely chosen bulwark upon which. though Mr D. not even the King. 'Tis accordingly tongue-worn testimony. He was most lately employed by Mr Alderman Diffrey. The father's name is Amos Hocknell.processtext. nor Parliament. These three are all daughters. an elderly Quakeress. the neighbour in question. of how when he dismissed Hocknell. his wife's is Martha. I must explain that by a most malign mischance for our purpose. as was now well proven. I am acquainted with Mr Diffrey. who was Bradling or Bradlynch before marriage. and he tells me he had no complaints of Hocknell for his work. and reside here no more. yet I believe may be credited. and that all shall be conducted with the utmost secrecy. Mr D. Wilts. as she wished with all her heart to rejoin her parents. the safety and welfare of our nation must always most depend. had warned him many times he would not stand for what Hocknell had persisted in doing.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. as you must know better than I. She was told what is truth. but found he could not leave his preaching and prophesying at home and was ever trying to subvert those around him from established religion. is to his honour most securely attached. for the cabin furnishings of hiss vessels. that _any man might hire his hands__.

and his boy. I am. but neither his appearance nor his manner recommended him to these jealous and suspicious people. son of the house where first she had work here. All is desart in these parts. Sir. http://www. like many in this country. who considered her insufficient in repentance. who deem all inquiry. and he was told little beyond that she was believed gone to Manchester. This Mopsus appeared a plain fellow. and lost to their faith and world. One such. my man could discover little more. in the upper part of a side-valley to the aforesaid. the branch path to which is reached in one and three quarter miles from the ford upon the high road. the 20th of September. was cast out by her mistress. in all things your* noble and gracious client's and your esteemed own most humble. I have spent these two previous days at the very place of your most concern. of the parish of Daccombe. which shall be done as prompt as circumstance allows. Lastly I must inform you we are not the first to inquire after the person. attorney at law Bideford. And was long disappeared. with one Henry Harvey. at which the fellow went off and has troubled them no more. owing to the closeness of her obstinate co-religionaries in this town. most faithful and most obedient servant. and the valley most seldom used unless by shepherds to gain the moor above. some five or six years past. Pray rest assured I will write to you thereon as soon as it shall be possible.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. for the prattler above told my searcher another came asking this past June after her. for he has passed many such there. but Page 173 . none knew where till this coming-back (of which none but the aforesaid neighbour knew nor spoke to her before she was gone off again). and write while all is fresh in mind. then by her parents. since it was she that led the young man to their sin. was at the cavern when we came. The cavern lies with a sward and drinking-pool for beasts before. no more lettered than his sheep. sir. however lawful. This place is to my best computation two and a half miles above the ford upon the Bideford road and the valley thereto is known as the a threatened tyranny upon them. Howsoever he found one to tell him the maid was commonly considered slid from Quakerism. I trust you will know better what to make of this than I.html Of the person's past. saying he was from London and had a message from her mistress. sir. I write in some haste before I leave on the other matter. that make it more ravine than vale. after being discovered in sin. after its cleft and woody sides.processtext. Rich'd Pygge. as he told us was his summer wont. named James Lock.

with their own heathen tongue and customs. and came by its aid upon ashes near the centre of this inner chamber. I must here remark that something in these ashes did stink strangely of other than wood being burnt. http://www. who come here with some regularity in their winter wanderings. unto an inner and more spacious chamber. Egyptians). by reason of the remoteness of the place and their cunning in thieving more abroad than in the neighbourhood itself. Yet he has never encountered them (in this. but not greatly so. The roof is tall and breached at one end to the air. and in the end removed away. which fell not on a human (or most diabolical) pate. that is. This I paced and found it somewhat the shape of an egg. though not regular. yet when a price was made and the shepherd said he might choose which he please. and was broke in half. place) for they are secret people. I proceed to your more particular inquiry. John Dolling His House. did Abraham make such a to-do about a mere boy? Upon which our shepherd. For which loss the shepherd soon consoled himself. after one of that name in his great-grandfather's time who led a notorious gang of rogues that boldly resided here and lived a merry life in the manner of Robin Hood (or so said this Lock). I Page 174 . which passes most years about the beginning of June (and to which this present year is no exception). that he has even found store of burning and hurdle wood seemingly left dry and good for his use. for one may see a faint light at the place. says Sir Beelzebub. bravely struck with his crook.processtext. as of a great fire. since you especially desired me to omit no particular. I trust. but upon this stone. And perhaps for that reason the place is deemed accursed by many and some in the parish will not set foot in it. Lock says in some manner it drains away. seeing (as my rude fellow put it) he did speak with one who should best him in a barter over souls. and the cavern apt for his summer living and the ripening of his cheeses. were never brought to justice that he knows. The antrum is fifteen paces broad in its mouth and rises to some twice the height of a man at the tallest of its exterior arch. which Lock believes formerly enlarged from nature. Which Lock told me. Upon my further questioning Lock said that on his own returnings here. since his son's soul was saved from perdition. The rogue would have been a free-holder. good fattening ground and without mads or murrain.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. perhaps by the rascal Dolling and his it seems.. some fifty paces at the longest and a pace or two over thirty at the broadest or beam. thus ever since the stone has been called the Devil Stone. Whereat the shepherd guessed with whom he truly dealt and being much afraid. on the contrary. being known to him and his like as Dolling's or Dollin's Cave. for which he is grateful. Satan pointed to this shepherd's young son (as Lock in telling me to his own boy). lost his tongue. except for his cheeses. He uses not this retiring-room (if I may call it so). for he told me also of a superstition much older concerning the great stone that stands upright beside the aforesaid drinking-pool. sir. as in a crooked chimney.html honest in his manner. and never having done him harm nor disputed his summer possession of the cavern. ere I had even asked. and that it was so also in his father's time. they trouble him not. and moreover the Devil (not taking to this Arcadian hospitality) dared not to show his impudent face in the place again. thus. with long impunity. and the ground is damp thereunder. for the inconvenience of its darkness. for it seems some of their bands tend westward to Cornwall at that season and return thence eastward in the spring. you may not find me trivial in reciting this.D. or so he said. who stood nearby. though not sky. I run ahead. Sir. was made by what is called in the Devonshire vulgar didickies (that 3s. sir. there to make a most singular bend indeed (running upon a blank wall in first appearance) through a rough-hewn arch. Now. which is that the Devil came once to a shepherd there to buy a lamb of him. nor his father (as well a shepherd) before him. Why say you nothing. The place has a mischievous history. And in proof thereof he showed me inside the entrance to his grotto and rudecarved upon the native rock the initials I. or many such. and thence runs back some forty paces.H. however fanciful.H. Not so this fellow Lock. Advised by you I brought a lantern with me. he has seldom not found such traces of their sojourn.

I assure you 'tis not for fault of my keenest perseverance at your command. and tho' none seemed to sicken for it. id est. yet which I find not accountable to ordinary purposes of cooking and making warmth). with which my man digged down. and the same. when he declared the smell was as strong as before. and found all the soil in this bare place roasted curious hard for four or five inches' depth. I had marked it on arrival. it had withstood the mollient effect of this season's great rains.processtext. I fear I must leave you thus with a great enigma. which we could not put a cause to except by many and repeated great fires (for which there is provision enough of wood nearby. as if something there tickled their animal appetites. toward Bristol. and knows not why they are so departed from their usual custom this last winter. as I shall come to. when first he came. though we saw no trace of metal or else besides. To my best observation it is little more than a chink. that I searched all well by the lantern and found no other way from this cavern save that by which we had entered. My own man. he had feared this sudden maggot in them and so barred them from it.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I can put no better name to it. and Lock likewise was positive there was none. for Lock has encompassed the place with hurdles to keep his flock away. seemed driven to lick the superficies where this fire had been. I entered upon it and when I stooped was able to discern a similar sulphurous property to that I had smelled inside. I think. sir. and found nothing. Now I come. I saw naught else there. that so great a fire was needful if such alone were their business. where it might pass a child. or in the vestibule of the antrum. I asked Lock of this stink. Nor is it to be reached at the foot without a ladder. a little to one side upon the was of my opinion. I had Lock fetch a hurdle stake. It may be conceived the answer lies in the constitution of the bare rock on which these ashes reposed and that the heat of a strong fire draws forth some tarry emanation. and marked it seemed baked hard as a potsherd. http://www. This ustulated patch is some nine paces across. nor for want of thinking upon it. I asked Lock whether this absence of grass was not a strange thing. Page 175 . for I later mounted above upon the slope where it issues. and nothing has grown upon it since it was burnt. Yet I can come to no sure conclusion. Lock says in former years the Egyptians have not lit their fires so. yet said they would still on occasion try to thrust through. We disturbed the ashes somewhat to see if aught else but charred wood lay there. it may be with good reason. that spake of what concerns us. to one last matter and that is the fire outside the cave. but neither I nor my man will believe this. I told my man kneel and scratch a little of the earth.html fancy somewhat of sulphur or vitriol. but not a grown man. though t am not competent to determine such matters. sir. His sheep. for the most part small. yet the soil remains dark and barren in this place. and we had further proof I was not wrong. they are considered in this part of the Kingdom praeternatural wise in the preparation of simples and 'tis true get some living by sale of their pseudo-apothecarickal concoctions to the ignorant. The ashes are washed out by rains. sir. My man truly observed it was more like earth at the bottom of a smelting-pit. and he deemed the Egyptians had poisoned it in making of their salves and potions. to which he said yes. Now. _Nota__. outside the cave. before I forget and in answer to another of your queries. for the better protection from the winds and colds of that season. and that I was not mistaken. no doubt thrown aside by the uncleanly Egyptians in their regales and feastings Lock says they use this inner room more than he in their winter stays. is there utile ore known in this immediate vicinity. of rabbits and fowls and I know not what else. I must add. who was with us. Nor. other than the aforementioned chimney. whose effluvia linger on. which I confirmed with a morsel (that I inclose) he handed me. and difficult of penetration without repeated thrust. for all the abundance of sweet grass lying about them. but he seemed not to have remarked it and declared he could smell nothing uncustomary. It lies some twenty paces off. Yet methought his nostrils were beclogged with the worse stink of his sheep and his cheeses. tho' with no better explanation. 'tis found in abundance upon the Mendip Hill. sir. In one low corner or recess Lock showed us many bones lying as in a charnelhouse.

At the most neighbouring places naught seems known of the two horses unaccounted for. no more. Such an overlooking vantage as your deponent describes may be seen. they have none. and the two horses. who would now and then trudge up with provision for him and to pick whortles (which grow abundant there in August). or He has had one accusation. as also here. before my asking him. which he lays upon thieves. "Tis thought most likely that the Egyptians might have come upon these horses. such as might hide a person murdered. for Mr B. http://www. Of what was left below. when dry. then be swift away. 3. Of your deponent's horse. He knew of no covens. 8. got no material new informations (beside speculations as the above of privateers) from the aforesaid Mr Beckford. which did it so fall. I saw no fresh-dug ground about the place. aged and crippled beside. Lock declared to know of one in his village. and likewise what was left of baggage. and neither Lock nor his boy knew of any in their far greater familiarity with it and its vicinity. beyond his family. Minehead and Watchet. as their grandsires. The path is obscure and unknown to strangers. may be avoided by one travelling in secrecy. You may credit him in this at least. e'en tho' it neighbours upon his own parish. I will return this way and inquire. tells me 'tis still most generally credited. and was firm none came here in winter save the aforesaid Egyptians. apart that of his ewes and his wife and a daughter. and knowledge of it reaches not beyond the parish Mr Beckford (who presents his most flattering compliments) had not known of its existence. alas. in all his many visitings.processtext. concerning it since his coming here. but that she was of the kind they here call white. nor had more visitors. though this country is such rough wilderness in its bottom or lower parts I cannot be sure we searched where was meant. 'Tis their practice to land and seize what lies close to hand. Yet it may be he is here (as to witchcraft) less natural than most of his kind. more given to the curing of warts and rots than of any evil conversation. with the discretion you enjoin. which here lies east and west.html Not to be too long I will now answer your remaining matters. than I and my man. Lock swore upon oath he had not seen nor remarked aught else unaccustomed in his summer sojourn. Yet still will most believe. and such noise as has reached their ears of the new repealing of the Act counted great folly. steal them. There is no known previous visiting to this place by any curious gentleman or virtuoso. 6. and came away with empty hands. Page 176 . 4. the only considerable places before Bridgewater and Taunton.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. or of any others of those you named to me. When asked what further evidence may be that such desperate thieves are about in this district. 2. Its waters have no reputation whatsoever. I found no _vestigia__. All else conforms well enough to his chorography. provided _qualibet__ they bear north. One may proceed from the head of this valley across the Ex-moor in seven miles to the road that goes from Barnstaple to Minehead. 1. notwithstanding there is no further evidence of it and that they should come this far inland is without precedent these past eighty years. and that proved baseless. yet searched all that seemed most apt. when they must in one place or another come upon the high road. those resolute enough however might pass it well enough. 'Tis most easy in summer. caused by one crone's malice to another in some dispute between them. or what else was left. I will anon. I have. if not most certain. as is too well known by our navy and waterguards. that he had never seen female flesh about the place. 7. they might well. without common sense besides. beside the stream. I questioned Lock close upon the hanged man and all that has ensued. and fall back upon a silly tale that is now afoot of a landing of French privateers. and would not be shaken. 5. For lack of a better 'tis the general but unreasoning opinion hereabouts. or benign. As to witches.

Now. and have found no trace at the towns mentioned in my last. and found he and his companion was recollected.processtext. for so small a sum. for their story was credited. Barnstaple and Bideford are busy towns and much frequented in the more clement season for the trade in Irish wool and linen. and the landlord would claim it within his right. You may wish not. was able to confirm me from his register that on the and of May last the vessel Elizabeth Ann. Had his mute man been still with his Lordship. and could keep it no more. Mr Leverstock. and so 'tis left in abeyance. Likewise the same told truth as to the Barbadoes inn. Even were it the case of one who travelled openly (and were I able to conduct my questionings in the same fashion). that I cannot at present determine more to your advantage. Exeter and even Bristol. master Thomas Templeford. Rich'd Pygge. faithful and obedient quester and servant. he is an impudent. He boasted to one after she was left that she was gone to ask leave of her parents in Bristol to marry him. http://www. attorney at law Bristol. I must respectfully advise that there would at this lapse of time be great improbability of a better result. and no less the roads to them from Taunton. upon my return to Bristol. I await your further instructions in re and meanwhile respectfully attach an accompt of my fees Page 177 .html and write immediately if new evidence of moment is found. as I wish he were. but we lack that advantage. tho' I threatened it should come to law and he be hanged for a horse-stealer. or so he says. At Bideford the Collector. master James Parry. the 23rd of September Sir. arrogant fellow. nor would part with what he sold it for. and to that of your noble client. likewise Welsh coals. where I inquired. tho' little noticed. and Mr Leverstock tells me.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. sailed for Bristol and on the next day the coal-ship Henrietta. I am truly sorry. of the noble person's having passed that way. I fear I have had a barren return to Bristol. a great friend to the smugglers. sir. I cannot alas positively say he may not have done so. for in truth the scent is grown too cold. Sir. Tiverton. nor at many smaller on my road. better hopes of publick memory might be entertained. I have the honour to be your most humble. I must inform you also that the horse that was left there is sold. for he kept it the one month paid and a month besides. as your deponent told. naught else of import. otherwise. bound for Swansea.

that is found upon the Spanish isle of Trinidadoe in the Indies. howe'er so skilled and moliminous the adeptist.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. 'Tis clear that it hath been subject to great heat. that alas doth make the chymical analysis thereof (in even the best-furnished elaboratory) most difficult. if you can provide me of this soil Page 178 . and I doubt not great alteration of the original composition. if memory serves.html and disbursements to date. and regret I may come to no certain conclusion as to its nature. in the trust that you will ever count me your most devoted and obedient Rich'd Pygge. http://www. The Royal Society (of which I have the honour to be socius) doth hold in the collection of minerals and stones bequeathed it by the great chymist and philosopher the Hon. I may believe that before the incalescence the earth was admixed or drenched with some element of character bituminous. upon which you request an opinion. I am pleased to assist any friend of the learned Mr Saunderson. All natural logick of expression in the elements is made thereby interrupted and most obscure. I have examined the piece of baked earth. But yet unless I mistake I detect a smell in these baked ashes that is neither of pitch mineral (as these examples that I have cited) nor of pitch of pine. yet none has outlived the fire in sufficient size (nor upon colation) to allow of a closer determination. seen pieces not dissimilar brought from the Asphaltum. Corpus Christi College. or vegetable. for we may say in such matters that fire is as an anacoluthia in grammar. or Lake of Pitch. the Dead Sea) that do bear some resemblance. Sir. and likewise have I.processtext. Sir. indeed somewhat the same have I remarked where pitch is boiled and some portion has spilled upon the ground beneath the vats or coppers. attorney at law The First of October. Robert Boyle some fragments from the banks of the Asphaltick Lake of the Holy Land (that is.

Such soil is not hitherto reported to be found in these isles. I trust I need not assure Yr Grace that I proceed there at once . Her parents and sisters are likewise in the town as Mr Pygge wrote. Lee is said. like her.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. which he hath done. Stephen Hales D. but is called preacher by his neighbours. blacksmith. that is at Teddington in Middlesex. Quaker. of Toad Lane in the town of Manchester. He is friend to Mr Pope. the 1st October Your Grace. my man avers. though she knows it not yet. I am in Cambridge briefly. and now affirms most positively.S. She is late married to one John Lee. and that I am ever the most forward in his service. R. London.S. that is one of his parishioners. Page 179 . for Lee has no regular work. and of great enhancement to your client's (whose name Mr Saunderson did not vouchsafe) estates.and humbly pray he will pardon this present brevity.D. I should be exceeding grateful. http://www. in the knowledge of its cause. and may be most apt to commerce. and may thereby the better enlighten you. sir. that is best known (these few years past) for his worthy anathemata upon the evils of spirituous liquors. in little better than a cellar. it is she. I am. and is several months gone with child.A. My man is sure. for he took Jones to view her secretly. though more such as botanist than chymist. and may be the better addressed at my living. She now plays the housewife and very soul of piety. She we seek is found. it cannot be by him. They live in poverty. yet I am told also of excellent report as a natural philosopher.html a fresh portion that is not burnt (that may doubtless be found adjoining). I write in great haste.processtext. I inclose with this copy of a letter received this day from Dr Hales. your most obedient servant.

in James I's or Elizabeth's reign. two battered pewter mugs and an earthenware pitcher of water . for the scene is one of great penury. A monastic cell could not have been more sparse. practical Christianity in Dissent. Poverty is associated today with loss of morale. wiped by bread as clean as if it had been well washed. The room is a Page 180 . confined by old bricks. to gain some last warmth from its baking. a little to one side: a large octavo book. kind to the soul. paved with flags. except that of patches discoloured by damp. scrubbed. we will not accept this for ever. as do the two small windows beside it. Its brown leather binding is dog-eared.html THE TALL.only one thing else lies on the table. It was his customers who were granted such noble beams. Yet there are two strange things in this austere scene. to declare the very act of eating vaguely immodest. We accept this now. that rests at either end on rough-sawn baulks of timber. or more fastidious. where even those who lived or worked in the half-cellar were counted deserving of such elaborate joinery.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. eater. both personal and domestic. and it has lost its spine. The table stands before a huge grate and large chimney. but a kind of wakeful resilience. not a single cobweb. and that with dirt and disorder. a physical emblem of a psychological cleanliness. The cleanliness was no more than a convenient and easily demonstrable symbol. with steps up to the street outside. though not ceiled. The other strange thing is a virtue. by countless smithy sparks. The recently whitewashed walls are similarly without adornment. and an armless jerkin. for the floor above the room. less for what it is than for what it may bring . as if its denizens have said to themselves: We have nothing. an iron candlestick and two or three candle-ends. on the scrubbed wooden table before him. That room has no light at all from outside. a being set like a spring. a tinder-box and salt-box. The fingers that hold the wooden spoon she eats with look cold. is supported on two fine oak beams. it seems. but no fire is lit and the pottage the woman still eats is evidently cold.processtext. a square of mirror-glass without a frame. A shelf fixed to the beam above the hearth has one or two other necessities. and so may be godly. almost black with age. The cellar-room has no carpet. so that one may only guess at its contents. One is physical. the house had been a finer place. a latent energy. There is no other furniture. And that is all. a waiting will to change. That was why comfortable established Christianity so mistrusted . She is a less hungry. There are the remains of a fire there. but it is very small. the two bowls. and each delicately fluted and chamfered downward to a narrow hanging edge. beside the table and two chairs. is already going grey. and stares at the woman opposite. The upper shutter of the door there is thrown open and lets in a weak and new-risen October sun. and does it with cast-down eyes. many of which are cracked. gaunt man sits with an empty bowl of pottage. and are cold. like his forearms and hands. not even a rush mat. as if a century or more before. The sun is needed. and been repaired by a glued patch of old canvas. not a blemish on its strict tidiness. scarred. All is swept. He wears breeches and a loose white blouse.the outward signs of a strict. although only in his mid-thirties. washed. That. to keep its bottom off the flagstones. and the end of a bed. http://www. Two iron pans and an ancient chafing-dish hang on nails inside the chimney. bar a wooden chest against the inner wall. Through an inner and doorless doorway beside the chest can just be made out another and smaller room. This humble room is as clean as a modern operating theatre: no dust. so. more thoroughly shipshape than the most demanding bosun's mate could want. The virtue was not mere cleanliness in some of us today mistrust conspicuous consumption. no dirt. The fingers of her other hand lie against the broken morning loaf. In truth it had served as shop to the merchant clothier who then lived above. a paltry thing beside the large logs the seven-foot hearth must have been built to burn in its beginnings. a dormant readiness for both martyrdom and militancy. spare and hard. There was an equivalent saying of the time: cruel to the flesh. The man.

.' He looks at the offered bowl.' 'Yea. I was given in the night.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. that opaque innocence in spite of all. 'There is a thing I would tell. Something in them suggests he thinks too slowly ever to smile. close over her ears. thee. but feared to wake thee while thee rested. thus he stood and And more. Then she stands and goes to the inner room. thee. the blacksmith of Toad Lane. yea. a new self. must endlessly digest before he might laugh. as I walked. unlatches the half-door. almost learnt. John the Prophet. perhaps learnt from the man opposite. without lace or frill. There is now something also steadfast. Yea. or offer an opinion. most clear. which she bears across the room and up the steps. 'The time is nigh?' "Tis as Brother Wardley says.' "Twas well?' 'One came all in white upon a road. A tall. then up. though he has no forge. the grey dress and white cap cannot quite hide why she was what she was. as his friend and good servant.' She looks down. praise Jesus.. he smiled upon me.' 'It ails thee?' 'All shall be well. and pray for thee.' 'Thy father and I shall stand witness outside. thee must bear it. and disappears. 'Eat. yet she has changed elsewhere. http://www. I have no stomach for it. determined by new circumstance and new conviction. gaunt man. And must to the neasery. for thy time is nigh. this latter an object as sober and sparse as the room itself. and greeted me. towards where her stomach swells a little. as clear as I see thee now. He certainly does not look as if he has yet digested this other being and wife.' 'They too shall be judged when He comes. Only then does he draw her half-finished bowl Page 181 . and thee shalt be given signs. He said naught.html For this is john Lee. Be resolute in faith. in her coarse grey dress and pure white cap. in her meekness. with an abstracted face and seemingly far-seeing eyes.' 'And who should he be?' 'Why. Only her hair and her face have not changed. but clearly has more on his mind. the Book in the other. husband. and smiles faintly. And he held a staff in the one hand. Be patient. the souls of other men and women. and is far more given now to hammering something harder and more obdurate than iron. I know it. beyond these words. Rebecca opposite.processtext. that patience . She pushes her bowl across the table to the man.' She stares gravely at him a moment. praise the Lord. to re-appear with an iron bucket. and remember thee art the Lord's new-born. Those gentle brown eyes. defiant. If they'd stone thee for thy bygone sins.' 'Yea.

Some eye Rebecca a little askance. or would be so seen by a modern eye. He tastes nothing. with something of an expert toss. warrens of disease also. since all are occupied. and they are It is an old Bible. He stoops a little to read. then down at the ashes in the hearth beside him. the contents of her bucket. the neck ulcers of scrofula. the tented arms of the Prophets.sitting beside him. joins her in her wait. on a common space: a ramshackle row with their backs turned to the street. as if these words cannot be understood unless they are also spoken in mind. in turn containing even more noisome holes in the ground. portraits of the Apostles.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. This day the majority of those in the street and its doorways are women and very young children.' The man raises his eyes there for a moment and stares across the room at the light in the doorway. Its practical effects can be seen everywhere in the human denizens. He goes back to his reading. without any ease.processtext. Though the Industrial Revolution has hardly yet begun. watery oatmeal mixed with one or two specks of salt bacon and a few dark green leaves of fat-hen. in the circumstances. and finds its fifteenth chapter: 'I am the true Vine. The man stares for a moment or two at the cut of St John. He turns on to the saint's gospel. an eagle . heavily underlined in red ink for lack of proper rubrication.. and a more fundamental principle of resilience applied. and men gather them. They serve a population of nearly five hundred. I am the Vine. 'Abide in mee. The closets stand near the end of the street. closefitting white cap. as does the one water-pump close by in the street. and cast them into the fire. yee are the branches: Hee that abideth in mee. into a Tetrevangelium. as always. and begins to eat what she has left. not her in herself. for those of their men and children (though not more than five or six years old) with work have gone to their places. except it abide in the Vine: no more can yee. Fortunately the victims were not then aware how much they were to be pitied. he pulls the book close and opens it. http://www. and turned. and is withered. Nearby grows fat-hen. and change not imaginable. either a profound sociological need or something too obvious to require saying at all. But John Lee does not smile. rickety legs. Page 182 . and my Father is the husbandman'. It is clear. Meanwhile Rebecca walks to the necessary. of 16t9. a distinctly Jacobean and moustached gentleman who sits writing at a table with a tame dodo . malnutrition. One survived as one could. If a man abide not in mee. The content words of the page are in a heart-shaped frame. that of the New Testament. five noisome boxes.html closer. and it opens. They are surrounded by tiny woodcuts of sacred emblems like the Paschal Lamb. Such was life. still thinking of his dream. and I in you: As the branch cannot beare fruit of it selfe. at an inner title page. There is a quickness and lightness in her walk that belies her condition. It is thin gruel. and with a similar very plain. Rebecca smiles primly in recognition and then utters what must seem. nor her errand. not merely absorbed by it. and his lips can be seen silently moving. As soon as it is finished. by its most frequent usage. the left-over of the previous evening. and most closely by those of the four Witnesses. in pocked faces. Toad Lane is an early forerunner of a familiar sight in many modern cities. Now an older woman. scurvy . to which Rebecca adds. or must. a once fair street become a miserable slum of dilapidated houses. Then she goes to wait patiently by the necessaries. except ye abide in me. both they and their courts behind become warrens of one-room tenements. another name for it is dung-weed. the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without mee ye can doe nothing. as if by nature. bucket in hand. and I in him. and are quite certainly not justified by Toad Lane. for his finger slowly traces what he reads.. Between them and a ditch below stands a heap of human yet dressed rather as Rebecca. but it is for her sect-betraying dress. hee is cast foorth as a branch.

like a pair of foxes who have marked their weak lamb. with Jones at his side) has misinformed him on one matter. &c. but stand and watch them approach. 'More love to thee. But Rebecca touches his arm. waiting near the half-cellar. and looks sheepishly down at the gutter between them. Rebecca stops. merely as one who sees him whole. who has put on a plainbrimmed hat and a threadbare black coat.' All that is spoken in reply are the same three words. by the grace of God King of Great Britain and of England. The Examination and Deposition of _Rebecca Lee __the which doth attest upon her sworn oath. and stand still rather apart. as one accustomed to his present role. the latter make no pretence of turning their backs and being in conversation. Then she looks down and speaks that same phrase she had spoken at the necessary. and exceptionally Mr Henry Ayscough's man (who at this very moment stands. She has no eyes except for Jones. yet without anger. as at a total stranger.' Still she stares at him.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. brother. http://www. and Rebecca Lee emerge from their cellar and walk towards the two men.html 'More love. It seems this is no more than a stock greeting between fellow-believing neighbours. this fourth day of October in the tenth year of the reign of our sovereign Lord George the second. who has stopped and now stares at these two strange men as if the last thing he feels for them is love. for the two women say no more. as banal as a goodmorning. The other two wait a moment. The tall clerk wears a small and sardonic smile. Page 183 . though her husband walks on. When they are only a few feet apart. It is clear they are not sisters. 'I must. as it happens. 'Twas as we agreed.processtext.' She quickens her step to rejoin John Lee. who awkwardly takes off his hat. Jones seems ill at ease. Yet it is not a Quaker formula. When some fifteen minutes later John. and they go on. then turn and follow.

Very well. and went by the name of Fanny. Q. blacksmith. http://www.processtext. of Toad Lane. Q. Q. None. I do. had news of. I am married to John Lee. Have you since the first day of May last seen. or held any communication whatsoever with his Lordship? A. And I counsel you. on the fifth day of January in the year 1712. Q. And is what I have asked of his Lordship true also of his man Dick? You have no greater knowledge of his fate? A. Q. Do you have knowledge that he is or is most probably dead. Q. in the city of Bristol. Then first this. Now. my new-virtuous Mistress Lee. You are upon oath. Q. None. keep it well in mind that I have Jones's testimony concerning you before me. You know why you come before me? A. Your swelling belly shall not save you.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I am six months gone with child. I will find out what you are before we come to what you were. when arrived you here from Bristol last May? A. Manchester.html MY NAME IS Rebecca Lee. Is that plain enough for you? A. eldest daughter of Amos and Martha Hocknell. Christ shall be my witness. I was common prostitute in London until May of this year. No. and much else besides. Now. Q. Yes. if you rant religion. in whatsoever manner? A. And found your parents? Page 184 . I know it. Q. I was born Hocknell. That I enquire upon the disappearance of a noble gentleman in May last? A. On the twelfth day. And you will speak as plain as your dress. And your former mistress's.

Why not? A.are they not strict in their religion? A. You told them of what you had been since they saw you last? A. and that you aided and abetted in their commission. Q. A. Q. I thank the Lord. and so forgave me. They do not abominate those who truly repent.processtext. There is a greater lawgiver than thee. I have not told that. Q. what happened in Devonshire immediately before you came hither? A. Q. and are not to be troubled with them? Why answer you not? A. How no . But I say they were. Q. Yes. and soon the world shall know it. Is Jesus so poor a meter He cannot weigh true repentance in a soul? He is not so small. And I know now they were right. A. Do you mean by that. Q. Q. Very strict. Q. I say. Did they not abominate you before and cast you out? A. Because I sinned not in that. Who forgave you your sins? A. Did they not abominate you? A. I take you not. I shall. No.html A. A. Because they were not crimes. from what I became. You are principal witness and accessary to foul and irreligious crimes. http://www. nor would trouble them with it. Because I was wicked and did not truly repent. You say you have told them all. You shall not deny what is proven.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. No. Page 185 . woman. Q. if I be falsely accused. I deny it. Q. Q.

or still I sin. and judges besides. I am not thy new modesty's fool. Q. Thee dost not know my religion. I should bow and scrape to you. Then cease your impudence. if thou throw'st more piety at me. A. It is our manner. Watch thy tongue. I came not here to offend. Christ is my master and mistress now. I have met lawyers beyond thee. and know their hearts are not all flint. I must. and those that were more kind left happier. until my last. Thou hast no right to be stolen. Q. thee hast inquired of me. It is truth. Thee may thunder and frown as thee will. We are equal in this. A. thou shouldst be at Rome. Page 186 . Thou canst buy remission of your sins so easy? Why. My pride is to be His servant. naught else. I am repentance with each breath I breathe. thou art a most notorious whore. if not in the world. I'm no harlot now. A. Enough! A. I pray thee. I see thy whorish insolence still proud in thy eyes. but I think 'tis more in thy manner than in thy heart. Q. and God's word. Thy right and God's word! Shall I fetch thee to a pulpit? A. as if 'twere better I was their harlot again. Dost thou indeed! A. Nor would they rail me so for giving up my wickedness. And thee knows it. None of thy thouing andtheeing. A. Q. http://www. Enough. All are brothers and sisters in Christ. Q. Who takes my right steals from Christ. When I was harlot I learnt those who would serve us worse than their horses or their dogs served themselves likewise.html Q. Q. Q. Q. is it so? I should call you madam and hand you to your coach? A. A. A. if you preached so at them. Then more's the pity I did not. be not angry. I wonder they ever came again to your bed. We mean no disrespect.processtext. I know I'll have thee whipped. Q. Blame me not for defending my right. I say they are one. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Yes. A fig for thy musts.

by prophecy. And contempt of all secular rank and natural respect.processtext. That gives you no liberty to be pert in your answers. he's English. Q. Q. Was Quakerism not extravagant enough for you? A. descended of they who came from France this fifty years past. He did. You mean. as they did. Then harry me not for my beliefs. who is friend to Brother James Wardley. The man is one of your congregation? A. A prophetic saint indeed. no horns. He is Prophet. He took you from pity. well. Q. What manner of prophet? A. I see you have imbibed your father's poison. They are good people. Q. We are forty or more here who believe that Christ soon comes. Q. Q. Yes. When was it? A. Well. Q. But I will not speak ill of the Friends. Q. http://www. We waste time. French Prophet. On the second day of August. our elder and teacher. He wore Christian kindness there. Your husband knew of your past infamy? A. Q. And my mother's. Q. in the state of your belly? A. The Camisards? Are they not lapsed? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. called Whiteshirts by some. We are Quakers no more. Q. Not since I know Christ comes. No. Unless where rank and respect would forbid our liberty of conscience. your man is of French blood? A.html Q. A. Who also lives in Christ. That he wore horns to the altar. Your parents are grown such prophets also? A. No. in short? Page 187 . and my uncle John Hocknell. is it not so? A. A. I would know of your marriage.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. not. for hers. 'tis as whipping to that abomination I was. My conscience will not allow. a marriage in form. What. You are certain? A. Q. and I will answer. my flowers. Did you not tell Jones. I know not what that would mean. or this prying where thee has no business? Of what I was thee may inquire. Q. You are to answer. Q.html A. I require yes or no. http://www. Whether your man has his fleshly rights? A. A. Q. yet is denied your bed? A. For our Lord Jesus said. Why say you nothing? A. Q. the poor clown protects you. This is more defiance. Q. For his soul's sake or if it be she. That is no answer. Did not his Lordship have his pleasure of thee? Page 188 . Where lies more shame? In my silence. I must know. He is content with what he has. I did not know then I was by child. A. Neither do I condemn thee. Q. I had my His Lordship's servant. What I am since is no business of thine. that she deserves. I was used by no other in that month. Q. and thee may call him up. Thee'll not know from me. you would hear of marriage from no man? A. nor any other man. And my own. Who sired this bastard? A. Q. Q. Nor my husband. and slept with no other man? A. Q. without true conjugality? A. who waits in the street below. And is it this. And holy love. you are prostitute. Q. then left the bagnio before I was used again unless by him. Then you are wed for your bastard's sake? A.processtext. Believe what thee must. But of this. Of his Lordship thee may ask all. Then the imputation is this.

He pardons those who do not speak a truth that none will believe. And most. I told him what he might believe. and that you told him so. Q. Q. Q.processtext. if you give me no better than these artful-devious answers. Q. and their unknowing. A. Q. Q. Because I wished to lead him from meddling further. and Heaven help thee if I do not. Had you no thought of his Lordship's family. http://www. that it shall. who are in despair of ever seeing him again? A. Did not the Devil himself have advantage of you in that Devonshire cavern? Why answer you not? Jones says he did. No. A. Now. I have your word upon oath? A. That it shall. And doth He pardon those who most shamefully neglect their Christian duty? Answer. What I am here to tell thee.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. And not what truly passed there? A. Yes. I pity their pain. You lied to him? A. I answer. Q. it is true you know nothing of what is become of the begetter of that lump in thy womb . Which I will not. whether thee theeself will believe. It is true. Yes. What none-will-believe is this? A. Are you not its cause? A. No. No. Q. Why? A. Not for such a use. In that.html A.the man Dick? A. Because I would be what I am now mistress. God is the cause. Q. the last. Page 189 . Q. It shall be seen. what no is this? Did he not hire you? A. Q. an obedient daughter and a true Christian.

When he can with my uncle. Well. They make grates and backs. You are poor. And have no more to say? A. Spare me your prayers. You say. When came he here? A. And I had Brother Wardley. Yes. which is my father's part. Q. How is this. She sent one Arkles Skinner. to write Skinner's mistress how I had told others all I knew. When I saw him last. Q. Then I'll tell you. A. A. Toward the end of June. I knew not. They will do good work for any. who is joiner. No. Found hanged of his own hand. for their religion.html Q. Where works he now? A. He is dead. who is called her lackey. he lived. Q. and set them in. but I cried out and my husband John came running and struck him to the ground. Then she lied. Dead? Q. Yes.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. Claiborne? She swore upon oath she knew not where you were. if not his choice of wife. Q. None but Claiborne. Nor any other of your past world? A. But few will hire them. Q. then? Page 190 . and the mantels. Q.processtext. and not three miles from that place where last you saw him. then worse harm to her. And she has held her peace since? A. Q. http://www. that knows letters. and if harm came to me. Jones has writ you no letter since you parted at Bideford? Nor come hither? A. A. I pray our Lord Jesus forgive him his sins. I may approve your husband's fist. you did not know? A. And lived-to his name? He would use force to have you back? A. like my father. Write Hercules. but is her bully-man. Q.

would he not assay those arts and wiles you were once so remarked for? A. Q. it was in vain. when they came down from us. The case is not so uncommon. It was the custom. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. That he was worth the plucking. And most as well would buy our silence if they could. No sooner went we apart in my chamber and I would put my arm around him. and said. He was introduced by Lord B……… Q. The world's goods are to be shared by all who believe. Claiborne asked me of him. he took it away. How none? A. I'll have the part you played last April. Which we fostered. and not a scene omitted. Of their gallantry? A. Though few admit it so soon. No. Knew you who he was? A. Were you not surprised? A. Q. so say we. Q. Q. Those among us who have give to those who have not. I had not. That he had entered upon it only so as not to lose face before Lord B……. And when I had spoken. Now. she told me who he truly was. Then that he would pay me well for my silence. http://www. and I must keep him close. And you had seen him never before . Though Page 191 . When came his Lordship first to you at Claiborne's? A. and without trial. for our purses. Mistress Lee. Near the beginning of that month. Q. And how fared his Lordship? Liked he his sport in your bed? A. No. Q.. Q. and do.processtext. Is it not? A. as they'd buy our boastings for them. What. There was none.html matter where? Not then. And what else? A. We have enough. I cannot say the day. How? A. But soon after. Q. Q.

he said. He spake all with his face turned. Q. I thought him more distressed than he showed. A.processtext. do least. he sat at the end of my bed and told me something of himself. She would take none of us who could not speak as well for ourselves out of bed as in it. We need not thy bagnio wit. he would like to make one more trial on another occasion. Another assignation was made? A. That is all. *no more. Unused. he would not. to take his pleasure of you. And I think not only in that place. Q. or embarrassed in his manner? A. nor the place. What said you to this? A. I had known others in the same condition. So. yet more. Q. in two days' as if in shame that he had no more than one like me to confess it to. as he were angry and I was grown importunate. Claiborne's had the best conversation in London. as he left. Leave me. and when I went to draw him back. for pleasure of our company. But I could not move him to't. What passed then? A. There were some such. Yes. http://www. His Lordship was civil. and paying you compliments. But then at last. that he was worse than marble not to melt at my kisses.html among ourselves the saying was. Seemed he at ease. for he was a younger son and had no great expectations. and how I liked what I must do. And that we should try. That if I would have patience with him. saying Lord B……. but was reassured now. or could not. Q. And then of a sudden he stood away from the bed. as sudden again made his excuses. and suchlike. Q. nor even sit. Enough. that he suffered greatly for the knowledge of it and the having to hide it from his family and his friends. so be it he could not yet prove it. and conscious of my charms. and said he was young. saying I was not to blame. for he believed himself on this first one too wrought by his anticipations. Was it not more usual for a gentleman to come. I tried my best to comfort him. who now had their normal powers. then away? A. Q. Page 192 . I would have him lie beside me. I desire to know this: in asking you of yourself. No. that he was much blamed for refusing advantageous offers of marriage.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. And he gave you money? A. he would not. Now. He threw some guineas on my bed. Q. More truth than wit. Brag most. and spoke with me. had said well of me. Q. I did my best. not knowing what I should be like. And asked of my wicked life of sin. That he had never lain with a woman. was he out of the normal custom of such libidinous encounters? A. I heard many say.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. the other had. Yea. But now declared he would watch his servant do with me what he could not. another time. he might buy me for himself. Was this not strange? A. that looked down upon the street. He came. At first that I would not. Yet it was not dead. it is we who sin in hatred of the sin itself. There is a badder case than they who sin for their own selfish pleasure. Did he not propose this at that first meeting? A. They might say to us what they durst not say to their wives. The more modest I would be. Whether thee believe me or not. and waited. And what passed? A. they knew not what they did. and gladly. for my conscience told me I sinned and should not be forgiven. I tell thee this because I was in that snare when first his Lordship came. What one lacked. In short. that is none. not quite dead. and had pity for him. But 'tis Adam who keeps them there. http://www. What said you? A. and would have him lie beside me. I know men will say it is Eve who tempts them into the stews. God forgive them. my soul harder than flint. No. that mistress Claiborne was strict to our uses. Q. Not then. as it is with man and woman. tho' he knew it was difficult to encompass. he would have none of me. she would never allow such a thing. I will tell thee now what I said not to Jones.processtext. At which he appeared much set down. Yet he would pay me well. Very well. not for his man. I knew I was on the path to hell and with no excuse save my own obstinacy in sin. yet I was not in their case. tho' both were men. And I will tell thee now. and fell to pressing me again. he came yet again. Q. For that second time he made me go to my window. and he told me he was advised to it by a learned doctor. whatever so different in their station and outward. Not because we would. Yet I doubted not he was in some distress. Q. He came again? A. may the Lord Jesus forgive me. Page 193 . Most of my sisters in that house were blind. how they were like to twins. and other things. and disappointed of his hopes. Q. yet of one soul. but somehow must. And I pray thee remember we women are brought up to do men's will in this world. and he feared I might refuse such an unnatural request. tho' they were none. I am sure. Q. So it was. In their different fashions. Q. The same as before. I do not care.html Q. which was that they were two men as far apart in most matters as any in this world. yet I believed him more there than in this talk of doctors. the more impudently I did. On which we fell to talking. Thee may'st take me for a notorious harlot. You have known others speak and confide in you in this manner? A. as a slave must do his master's will. On that I shall ask more. in good time. and a great sinner. 'tis truth. tho' he would not. even born upon the same day. As twin brothers. to see Dick that stood there opposite. and told me of Dick. tho' he hates both it and I will not deny it. not half so strange as what I later learnt of them. he won thee to his wish? A. I sinned the more brazenly because at heart I would sin no more. which I did truly believe to be only his excuses for what he asked.

For at the end I would hold it as if to forbid them. First. Yet I began then. What pretexts advanced he for this journey? A. Did you tell his Lordship of this great boil upon thy ever-open thighs? A. Q. Its letter. that of some parts I had memory. To my everlasting shame I had use. which did come the more easy. the more the light came upon me: that what I did was great sin. that which he had already proposed. I do. concerning Dick. You say. when I was alone. Then that he wished to take new waters supposed good for his condition.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. like a great boil or sore place within my conscience. Q. Did he name these waters? A. What mean you by that? A. Which he said he had thought upon and found an answer to. Q. and did mock His Word. that must be lanced. And would mend your ways? A. What little conscience that still sprang in me knew I did do in that a most wicked abomination. and spied upon him. I will tell thee what I fain would not. for years 'twas not so. And for that I was given a Holy Bible. Enough of thy tender soul. No. and would ever put away until the morrow. and the greater commodity to it if we were removed from the bagnio. And Adam also who keeps most of'em pure. Be done with this prating. http://www. To wit? Page 194 . Q. which they must tear aside to gain their will. to learn the letter of the Book that I so misused. No. Q. 'tis sign thee knows I speak truth. to please the more wicked. and I crucified Him again in what I did. or I should die of Q. And thee must know that this pressed ever more upon me. whatever might befall you meant not to return to Claiborne's? A. for the more I read. to play the virtuous maid. It had become strong upon me that I must change my life. A. I felt a great flutter come to flee where I was. Q. now saw I his Lordship was my prison's key. that they might take the more pleasure in their conquests. Very well. And Jesus's mercy was even then kind. that I might pretend the better. For when he came out with his scheme to take me away to the West where I was I take heart thee won't look me in my eyes. Then told that his family and father thought the worst of him for having so far refused to marry. tho' l could not stand against Claiborne.html Q. and that these men I served might show they believed not in God. Still could I not bring myself to do what in my growing harlotry I came the more to see I must.processtext. that once I had heard read or spoken. I stayed too fond of worldly things. God pardon me. and he greatly feared we should be followed if we did not hit upon some disguise for the journey. her willing that I acted thus. that I might read it. and so try two remedies for it at the same time.

as I thought: that it was the price I must pay. Q. All who attended were to bring one such as I. No. as happened. before you came to Amesbury. Yes. I told him the time of my courses was near. He did promise I should not regret the deceiving. Had you any suspicion. Q. did he not? And to thee did he promise more? A. Heaven knows I was not.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. A scheme of a false elopement. No. I mistook then the fee he intended. First let us be clear . Q. I might have been. Was he pressing that you should resolve yourself to this western journey? In all this did he rather solicit. I will tell. Q. or did he dragoon? A. had I thought hard upon it. He accepted it must pass first. He pressed. to which he should bring me. and I did not care for the wages of sin. Page 195 .com/abclit. Were you not suspicious of so much deception? A. Q. What I now am. No. Q. Am I to understand this .processtext. that his Lordship deceived you also as to the real purpose of this journey? A. Very well. Q. that I took to mean I should not be the poorer for it. for by him I hoped to escape. that was more than reward enough. This was not told Claiborne? A. and was mistreated. No. All I did see then was my own advantage.he made no promise of a fixed reward for your pains? A. where I should play lady's maid brought to serve his false intended. http://www.html A. despite I must do as I was bid. For which he fee'd her handsomely. and purge my fouled soul. Did you not press for such? A. You thought he spake of money? A. Q. Of what did he speak in truth? A. but did not force. to change my condition.that you are now what you are because of his Lordship? A. Q. not none. And e'en the same later. Q. for her 'twas said that his Lordship was upon a folly in Oxfordshire.

that you should be in Devon on the first of May? A. Now this. should we run off. http://www. What was that? A Two hundred guineas. mistress. It bore no arms.processtext. Q. It was not so appointed. Q. Yes. Thee were never in that world of Antichrist. Claiborne would never allow. Q. Q. the time of your going depended no more than upon the season of your menison? A. to Claiborne or some fellow-whore. Why? A. that her hope lies in leaving the stews and becoming kept woman of some nobleman. His Lordship fetched you to this? A. To St Giles i' the Fields. as was arranged. Q. Q. Then out of the town to Chiswick. and so she would.html Q. No. within a cottage. who may establish her for his use alone? A. Q. not a word. It was proposed me. Had you in your house. Such we called the militia. that I might buy clothes at the second-hand. 'twas hired. Were none that proposed this to you great enough to protect? A. She said she should find us in Hell. I doubt not more than she told me. with a closed carriage. that tops the licentious town in her trade. Is it not most often the case with such as you. Not that I know. not trained soldiers like us. Which I did. He offered more than she might refuse? A. the devil. Dick his servant. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. And where were you taken. You say. But she let you go with his Lordship? A. where his Lordship waited. made mention whatsoever of his Lordship's fault? A. when first you left the stews? A. Q. Gold will melt iron. No. Page 196 . toMonmouth Street . I would have none of it. We might never desert. suited to a country maid.

At what time of day was this? A. I know not. Q. Where was this? A. Throughout all? A. Q. No. Q. Q.html Q. And what else passed. Did it have the hoped-for effect upon him? A. Not a word. In a chamber above. but with the coachman. Was any other person there? A. Q. when we came. 'Twas all after dinner. No. An old woman. A supper was prepared. now you had met? A. with Dick. Had you done such an act before spectators before? Page 197 . What made you of Dick. She spake not. in the morning when we set forth. I think left when we were served. Saw you no sign? A. that evening? A. Nothing. Q. And left us so soon it was done. Q. Q. Q. He was not aroused by it? A. Did he not speak? A. I did not see her again. who served us. I have told thee. Q. He did not ride with me. http://www. What was agreed. How were you welcomed at Chiswick? A. His Lordship was present? A. Yes. I do not know.processtext. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. Past six of the clock. His Lordship seemed pleased I was come. since he could neither speak nor hear? A. Q.that you had failed to rein him back? A.processtext. He knew what you were? A. he would watch me with that in his eyes no woman mistakes. Q. I doubt he had lain with woman before. Q. as I was used to feel. No sooner in than out. who suffered so by lack of natural parts. They may say what they list. I felt pity of him. I insist. if thee'd hear more bagnio wit. Q. Come. Did not his Lordship complain on a later occasion . He would not brook me speaking with Jones. He played his part. Yet later you chose to lie with him for pleasure. Did he play his part sufficient well? Why answer you not? A. Q. What answered you? A. 'Tis not thy business. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. A. his sweetheart. What then? A. Sufficient well? A. may I be forgiven. He did not treat me so. http://www. Q. Q. It shames me not that I was kind to him. not as a body bought for his lust. he would do all in his power to serve me. Then how? A. Mistress Lee. Was there no lechery in his Lordship's conduct on this occasion? A. Page 198 . On occasion. That he was green as a radish. And Dick? A. Yes. Why. No. How knew you this. far more as one he loved. Given for my sins I was harlot still.html A. was it not so? A. You are no innocent in this. Very well. Q. What of Dick? Q. There are more ways of speaking than with words. Those who were with you say more. Q.

Q. And when next I had opportunity. And I thought. His Lordship demanded what you had done before? A. I say he was not as other men. And where was it done? A. and so it is better now to keep my counsel. Q. a City merchant. and must take his Lordship as his guide in all down here below. and brave it out. Which I did. if his Lordship deceives me. Q. I know not? A. and I was much afraid.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. yet through Dick's enjoying. is it not so? Saw you no resentment there? Do not true sweethearts abhor such a base value put upon the act of love? A. Did you not likewise tell him you knew Mr Brown for what he really was? A. And served you also in his Lordship's presence. though he would not bear my touch. Q. Yes. No. No. and they would come with us. http://www. and he blamed me. I told his Lordship I feared I was recognized. Now. Was Dick present. two months before in a playhouse where I was. not one whit. Q.processtext. Very well. more one that knew so little of this world he might have lived in the moon. had you warning that morning you set forth from Chiswick that you had other companions on your journey? A. 'Twas to me as if I left the City of the Plains and Bristol was my Sion. I might almost believe his Lordship did enjoy me. alarmed. What answered he? A. there was such closeness between them they needed no words. And told me who he should pretend to be. Q. Q. when my time comes. He found it too quick done. I told thee. they were as one person. His Lordship told me that evening previous we should meet them. when this was spoken? Page 199 . Seemed he set back. tho' in truth he was the doctor he had spoke of. and I knew by some gross hints he made that he likewise suspected I was not what I seemed. though I could not mind me his name. tho' two in body. And he said that none of us were what we seemed. after. If his Lordship bade him. he must follow. And that day as we rode Jones came up. That I was to tell him if Jones was importunate I again. I may the easier deceive him. Now let us come to Basingstoke.html Q. for I must tell thee every step we took from London still lightened my heart. yet I must pretend I did not know such a thing. and take him for what he seemed. He watched? A. notwithstanding his person and voice well enough. Q. That I was to keep yet so it happened I had seen him before. Mr Brown and his man. Within his chamber.

Q. nothing. No. Q. Q. and I should find he was worse than Claiborne if he did not get his money's worth. What answered you? A. and as it was set down. http://www. Q.html A. Came Dick to you privily in the night there? A. Did you remonstrate? A. 'Tis like the Book.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. but I saw it not. master Ayscough? Why. Certain. I will tell in its place. for he had seen how Dick came to it. And you allowed it? A. Shall I tell thee how many lords and dukes I have served. One threshing will not yield its grain. Q. like a child with his head pressed down on the Page 200 . A. Q. Q How your good friend? A.he spake thus? A. Yes. beyond what I said. even a royal prince beside. That I was his now. Although he was no better than a poor beast? A. Because he was. for all he could not be. I tell thee as I then thought. No. That Dick was too green to be managed.processtext. Q. Not by my mouth. and felt him much changed. We I'll tell thee not one of them who came to my bed. What said his Lordship to that? A. Why. Q. He was disdainful of your supposed skills? A. Thee must wait till thee's heard all. Like one a practised rake. yet knelt there as he did. His Lordship was angry? A. like a poor beast with only one thought. Yes. Q. I looked meek. Q. Yet I did not feel it. and not just. And had enough wit to know he had no right to ask. I know now he would be my good friend. More as one who thought himself cheated. and I could not stop him. he was sent away. You are certain . I will know now.

we had supped. and sleep till he woke me. as in my sins I truly was. no. Not the next. He had his box of papers beside him. Till we slept. I'll say thou art a most damned doctoress. and I waited in my chamber. No. Not until we were arrived. Q. Q. Thee hast thy alphabet. in great secret. not force his own upon me. yes. In the midst of the night. though I slept little at first. Then he said I might lie upon his bed. more late still. And I must speak mine. Thee'll say for the first I was bought. and I mine. no harlot has. I am not. Had you warning of what would take place there? A. all slept. And when I woke. and told me sharp I was hired to do as he commanded. Which did alarm Q. not one word. and read before the fire. at Amesbury. And there his Lordship said we must ride out later. 'twas he who woke me. 'Twas neither love nor lechery. He was courteous enough. And every night the same? A. The inn was silent. no liberty.html coverlet. Q. and grateful I assisted in his designs. Q. Q. and waited to know my will. Q. http://www. After. Which I did. he would not say. for when I asked why. You lay together all that night? A. Q. Q. I could not think why that should be. I tell thee why I took pity for Dick. I was too frightened. it was eight or more of the clock. And Dick? A. as the night before. A. he was gone. I would hear of that next night. No. and I must bring my riding-cloak. though before then all was under the guise of my doing him a favour. I had no will.processtext. Next? Page 201 . I know not where. yet slept in the end till I was woken. Now he spake so a lord to a slattern servant. and was returned. What did his Lordship the while? A. that is all. when Dick came to fetch me to his Lordship's. He went away. He had not spoken to you during that day? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. which alarmed me the more. When was that? A.

stand aside.html Rebecca Lee is silent.processtext. and not a quill . her hands folded on her lap. his judgement of human affairs.N. A modern lawyer might have found a sneaking admiration for such directness. She merely strengthens a long-held opinion in him: that the world grows worse. her primly sober dress. and preceded by a tall liveried footman. and waits for the water. under the initials R. He sits with his back to the room's imposing battery of Jacobean windows. What he watches are a lady and her daughter. he does not even nod. ‘Next. and stare up towards him. Ayscough does not turn to watch her sip it. It had appeared in the _Gentleman's Magazine__ for August. and especially the affected and self-assured younger of the two ladies. yet strangely she holds his look.' ‘The clerk puts down his pencil . his position in the world. Here it is. despite his watching. but then drops her eyes to her lap again.' Ayscough watches her a long moment. He surveys her with all his education and knowledge. clearly he would embarrass her. for they are fashionably dressed in town clothes. then without looking away speaks to the clerk at the end of the table.and silently goes. and especially in the insolence of its lower orders. that stand at the corner of a street entering the square.for unusually he writes with that. and busy with people. and indeed now seems lost in what he watches outside: a square with many shops and central stalls. once seen. Yet Ayscough. a seeming _abbe mondain__ of the English church. set in Page 202 . express his doubt of this suspiciously untimely request. as if by instinct. Rebecca gazes at that back. directly below where he stands. In all else of her appearance she seems modesty itself.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. The lawyer repeats his question. mistress?' ‘I would prithee drink a little water. 'Fetch water.' Ayscough says nothing. thinks less of them than of a recent literary memory they evoke. It is true he does it partly from policy. Without warning he stands and walks to the inn windows behind. and does something she has not hitherto done. though the ladies do not acknowledge them. to compensate for his puny stature. Again we meet that unspoken _idee recue__ of his age. Ayscough does not. robin-like way at Rebecca. whose noise and cries have been constant background to what has gone on inside the room. but (as a child born the following year was one day to put it) decline and fall. a satirist and evidently a misogynist. They are evidently of some rank and distinction. ‘I thank thee. and she faces the Some even touch their hats or bow their heads. as she has since the interrogatory started. http://www. most. Already he has noted a group of three men. her cap. At last the clerk brings it and sets it before her. like his bursts of bullying contempt. There he looks out. and long acquired. oblivious to the jostlings of the throng that passes by. and ignores them. who carries a basket with their purchases and officiously gestures with his free hand at any who are slow to get out of the way of the ladies behind him. She looks up at him. He knows what they are by their plain clothes and their hats. leaving the diminutive lawyer still staring in his speculative. But not once as she answers has she bowed her head or looked aside from his eyes.. looks down. Change means not progress. My voice fails. into his eyes. All of him seems concentrated in his stare. as one of his tricks or practices before difficult witnesses.

he shall be mum. The piece might have been entitled _Eternal Women of a Certain Kind__. you know. that I shall hereafter condescend to bubble. a Saying never a whit the less true. to my very great Mortification. that should I say nay. and how different from them she has chosen. to be. because of its Antiquity.N. was not so prescient. Let me hear the Articles of thy Creed. Q. which I love and will adhere to. Jack-pay for-all. and laugh at every Page 203 . as for my Husband. undeserving Wretch of a most forbidding Physiognomy.processtext. Pleasure. upon the Strength of my Beauty. therefore explain yourself a little. A. follow all the new Fashions. therefore am determined. These are the chief Articles of my Creed. at 18 whine and at I9. &c. Q. tho' I ruin him in Plays. antique. and Cuckoldom ev'ry Sabbath's Meditation. Q. be they never so ridiculous. 'Tis pretty difficult to understand what that is. I do believe.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. or has been chosen. by the by. PRETTY MISS'S CATECHISM Q. to my dying Day. as also to obey that old Hunks. I act just as I've a Fancy. In the next Place. First then. &c. frequent the Theatre. I do verily believe he ought not to have the least Superiority over me. truely. Masquerades. http://www. pray as often as a Lord pays his Debts. Yes. at 17 love. tho' I should even accept of my very Butler as a Coadjutor to him. and Extravagance. is a difficult Task) we e'en cry.html exactly the same form that Rebecca has just broken. but not that I am one Jot obliged to her for that. And lastly. I promise you. Fashions. I do hereby acknowledge myself bound (not in Duty. A Lady fair of nineteen. my suppos'd Father. Adieu. if we can get the Man in the Mood (which. tho') to mind whatsoever she bids me. Who are you? A. and go off with our I came into the World by Mamma's Means. A. that tho' Quadrille be my Religion. at 16 we commence thinking. Have you any other Principles to steer by? A. Is this the View you proceed upon? A. but for this very Reason only. more than the Church. it may serve also to remind of the reality of her world for the more fortunate of her sex. but Mr R. No very keeping Ware. devote myself entirely to Pride. For were we once to pass our Prime. Housekeeping. _Daddy__. Q. right or wrong. they'd force me to wear these scurvey two-months-out-of-fashion Silks for half a Year longer. we should run a very great Risque of taking up with some paltry. _Stale Maids and stinking Fish__ is.

Q. It could lead one day only to the most abhorrent of human governments: democracy. Q. No. and glad he was old. to insult them the more.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. we should be the most unfashionable Creatures breathing. because such Reflections are apt to give the Vapours. if adher'd to.html Body that go thither for their Devotions. indeed was becoming only too prevalent lower down the social scale. of that abominable censor the Lord Chamberlain. and Ladies ought never to molest themselves with any Thing serious. and to quit Scores with the Rich at the Expence of a neglected Husband's Reputation. believing it to be all Hypocrisy. at that Rate. but only build their Faith on what an humourous Fancy suggests. or whatever best suits with our Conveniency. The lawyer was possessed of one of the most unwelcome human sentiments: he was old. What had shocked him was not this. it may be. relief was at hand . Very right. No. But what are those Principles. To lie in Bed till Noon. Q. Hold . Page 204 . as for a Peacock to spread its Tail. This piece had shocked Mr Ayscough when he read it. to regard no Body. had he known. or Lap-dog. A. instead of mending on their Kindness. her Monkey. only a few months to rail at and ridicule her Neighbours. His initial disgust for Lacy's calling sprang from precisely the same cause (although there. which. but however. Jews. about to begin his 23o-year tyranny over the theatre). To pamper herself. and how to get an Addition to them with a good Grace. Covenants for Pin Money. and a very good One. 'Tis quite out of Fashion to stand obliging an easy Fool of an Husband. we assume the Christian. at least to respect and oblige their Husbands.processtext. that is synonymous with anarchy. indeed. http://www. at other times are Pagans. the effect of published laxity on high among the lower orders. Both religion and matrimony were revealed in the catechism as mocked.if you read the Form of Matrimony you'll see 'tis the Duty of Ladies to Honour and Obey. should you not often consider of it? A. not at all. and so for one half Hour.He knew it fairly described a spirit alive in many women of titled family and from the richer gentry. as indeed in some of her answers. Marriage Form and Duty! A pretty Story! That Form's all of the Parson's contriving. will make a Lady's Life agreeable? A. but perfectly right and according to the Mode. and to chase away the Night at dear Quadrille. But is there any Reason for this Mode? A. in his own the form. Variety makes every Thing agreeable. . for. because we make none when we die. Mahometans. Yes sure. We claim our Wills while we live. and therefore not minded. or Allowance for separate Maintenance. Q. Hold. 'Tis as natural for me to do all this. Ladies regard only the Articles drawn up by the Lawyers. was a reflection of this. as was respect for man's superior status vis-a-vis womankind. that is. Q. But are Ladies then of no particular Religion? A. but to cozen and defraud the Poor. but that it should be said nakedly in public. you know there is a World to come. What he saw in Rebecca's eyes.

to the middle part. No. nor could I speak. and most hurtful to kneel upon. and about to meet my death. mistress. Q. not Dick. like great gravestones. or to a post some hundred paces short of them. where there was a stone flat upon the ground. that Rebecca had drunk. And his Lordship said again. and forced me to my knees upon the stone. we came to the stones and entered within their circle. and would never. and were away. Q. it is not for thee to speak of doing evil. I was not hired for this. And he said. Then. He continued the interrogatory from where he stood. We crept down and Dick led out the two horses. You told Jones they made you lie upon it. And still I would not. and now waited. Q. for they made me. sorcery. and not a word was said. all three of you? for I believed they must mean some great evil. and humble submission. You would say. calling upon dark powers. as of shepherds. so they took me each an arm. How is this? Page 205 . so. I knew not what. until we came to the standing pillars. A. Next? A.processtext. but to kneel. where they tied the horses. Yet he did not return to his chair. so direct indeed he knew he could not. She seemed a monument to patience. and he said.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. 'Twas overcast. I tell now what truly passed. And then I could no more. There his Lordship stopped. that was hard. Q. like I was bound in ice. Kneel. my lord. a fire. You told Jones. and once more had to bear that undeviating directness of look. And then I found my tongue. Fanny. and thought to cry out. So I did not kneel. And next they also knelt. Fanny. http://www. and we mounted outside. Very well. I was so chill and afeared. and felt far more than natural cold. beside me upon the sward on each side. And I was near out of my wits with fear. yet doubted they would hear. Q. Yes. and said. I knew hardly how to walk. yet must. believe it. kneel now upon that stone. It was only after he had asked several questions that he returned to his chair opposite her.html He glanced round and saw the tall clerk was back at his seat. We do evil. We rode a mile or more at a trot. no stars nor moon. it was too far distant. I saw some way off a light. Kneel. A. not knowing why we should be in such a place at such a time. yet I saw them there in the darkness.

or a great roaring wind. Not then as a flock of passing birds would. Did it grow louder in that time? A. His Lordship wore his. and swore I should never more whore. For myself I prayed. No. a far worse than the worst I had met at Claiborne's. most strange that it came not in their season. from one side to the other? A No. as of new-mown meadows and summer flowers. and one who would not scruple to abuse my soul as much as my body and Q. no. nor was there wind that night. I'll imagine thee that. 'Twas so. Q. But then there came a great rush in the sky above. http://www. Q. it may be more minutes. Q. For we rode the way west. as of wings. You are most certain of this? A.looked they up as well? A. Five. how long knelt you all so? A. Q. Q. Now. How long did this rush. as in prayer? A.html A. yes. and I looked up in terror. from above. and entered upon our right hand. I do not know. What direction did you face? A. and there was silence. What next? A. I thought I was fallen into the Devil's hands. His Lordship and Dick . I was not fit to notice. yet should spring from this cold and barren place_ Then again of a great sudden Page 206 . should God forgive me and let me come safe away. Proceed. Q. but with their heads bowed. With their hands set. Of a sudden it stopped.processtext. As it fell from the heavens straight upon us. A. their hands not so. Certain as Christ. Q. North. sound? A A few moments.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. it was still. but saw nothing. Q. this roaring wind. Yes. that was most sweet. and in this pause there crept upon the air such a smell I cannot say. Q. I must believe. Not more than it takes to count ten. Dick wore none. Wore they their hats still? A.

They stood. You would say. as masons and carpenters. near blind of it. I tell thee I saw them. And the older? A I saw not. for my eyes were made blind by the light. as might my own husband and father. he was ghost of the heathens who built the temple? A. I will not believe this. as of a sun. And the younger stood with his finger pointed up. The older I saw not. as I say. A. and looked on us. They lived. The younger an apron. to confound me. Were they not most broad and tall? A. no more. a young man and an old. They were no dream nor vision. why. the older behind. save that he had a white beard. Very little. Q. I am not to be imposed upon. I speak truth. he did not. I'll warrant he put thee to this tale. Q. Of ordinary figure. Q. Q. How long did this light last? A. I warn thee. Q. I could not truly tell. Yea or nay to that. http://www. I have never yet told him. No. He was dressed as a working-man today. No. they stood little further than this room is long. A. so bright I no sooner looked to it than I must look down bedazzled.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Enough to glimpse. With what expression? A.html there was a light upon us from above. that gazed upon us. still thou liest. Q. In what posture were they? A. Page 207 .com/abclit. Q. a light more large than any human making. among the stones. What clothes wore they? A. Q. A. who stood not fifteen paces from where we knelt. Q. I know not. for the light went out before I recovered my eyes. yet methought his eyes did rest upon me. Were they not painted figures? A. Thou hast cunningly prepared this.processtext. 'Twas nearer a lightning's flash than light proper. and there I saw. No. as if towards the light. Q. The younger man a little nearer. Tho' I saw them not well. Thou and thy prophesying man. No. No. Q.

Q. How high above? A. Were they not two of the standing stones? A. I feared no more.processtext. I promise thee. No. when I have done. As high as the sun and moon? A. a circle. nor those I was with. as of summer fields. To glimpse.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. it came like another light upon me. No. the night stayed dark beyond. Thee shalt. mistress. with all my eyes. Q. evil. Did it light all about? Turn night into day. Q. 'twas white as the summer sun. As upon St Paul's round roof. that what I feared. http://www. nor look longer. And I no more had fear. less. Now I'll put thee closer to thy stinking meat. For I tell thee it meant no evil. But as a gust of warmth. I cannot believe thee. Q. I understand one thing alone. When all else was vanished. Q. Q. that was sweetscented. Page 208 . not none. A. I felt more a sadness it had come yet gone so fast that I could not embrace it. The sky above. the rather to comfort and solace me. When I shall call spent mutton fresh lamb. no voice of Beelzebub? A. Q. No. yea. not before. Was there no thunder. Yes. No. Q. as I And hung in the sky above the temple? A. Yet must I cling to it in hope. shaped as a rose. as the true sun does? A. I knew this came not evilly. and more than sweet to the nose. Q. Thee must understand that.html Q. Yea. Whence came this light thou hadst this vision by? A. I cannot tell. Saw you candles and tapers in this great floating lantern? A No. sweet to the spirit. Q. when you are already blinded. Not so high as those clouds above. Yes. yet you may be so certain? A. And moved not? A. it remained. Thee shalt. No.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

Q. A hundred paces? A. I tell thee I cannot tell. Q. And how was this light so hung above, do you suppose? A. I know not, unless borne by some great bird. Q. Or some great liar. This sound you speak of before it shone out, you say first a rush of wings, next a roaring wind. They are not the same. A. I do not know to say it. Most of a passing wing. Q. Or a whip on thy back? Thou shalt hear that too, if I catch thee out. This pointing workman and his grandsire, carried they aught? A. No. Q. His Lordship addressed them? A. No, but did remove his hat. Q. What is this? Removed his hat to a carpenter and an old dotard? A. 'Twas as I say. Q. Made they no sign back? Showed they no mark of respect to this courtesy he offered? A. Not that I saw. Q. And heard you, when the light went out, no movement? A. No. Q. Nor could see them still standing there? A. No, for I was still dazzled blind. Q. Was there no sound above? A. All was silent. Q. And what made you of all this? A. That his Lordship was other than I had come to believe, as I say. For very soon after that he stood and helped me to my feet; and took my hands and pressed them, as one who is grateful, and looked me in the eyes, tho' it was darkness, and said, You are she I have sought. On which he turned to Dick, who was stood also, and they embraced, not as master and man, but as brothers might upon some happy outcome to their affairs. Q. They exchanged no signs?

Page 209

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

A. Nothing but a clasping to each other's breast. Q. And next? A. His Lordship led us from the stones. There he stopped and spake to me again, that I must not speak of what I had seen this night. That it neither brought nor should bring harm to me, I was not to fear what must seem so strange. Then he took and pressed my hands again, most earnestly, it seemed to make proof this more gentle manner he showed me was more his true self than that I had known. Q. What said you to this? A. That I would not speak. To which he answered, Very well, now go with Dick. And thus I went with him, while his Lordship stayed. But before we were rid back to the inn, he came behind us, so he stayed not long. Q. Did you not ask him of what had happened? A. He still rode some paces behind us for what short distance we had yet to make. And there in the yard bade me goodnight, and went to his room, leaving Dick his horse to unsaddle and stall. And I went likewise to my room. Q. Dick did not join you there, when he was done? A I saw him not again that night. Q. Very well. Now what of this - first that you told Jones his Lordship did inform you of why you went to the temple, to wit, that he should use you carnally there, in pursuance of a lewd superstition; and further you told Jones of a blackamoor perched upon a stone as if flown there like a great buzzard, ready to spring upon thy carcass, of a stench of carrion, I know not what else, a most satanick vision? A. I lied. Q. I lied, says she. I'll tell thee a truth of lying, mistress. Who lies once will ever lie twice. A. I lie not now. I am upon oath. Q. Why didst thou so greatly lie to Jones? A. Because I must, to blind him, that he should think the worse of what was done, and dare not to speak, for fear he should be thought part of it. I will tell in good place, and why I lied to him. Q. That you shall, I promise you. Now, that next day, did his Lordship's manner to you seem changed? A. Save that once as he rode, he turned and waited until we came abreast of him, and then gave me a close look, and asked me, All is well? And I replied yes, and would have spoke more, but he turned and rode on, as it were to say, he would converse no further. Q. What thought you to what you maintain to have seen among the stones? A. That there lay some spell upon it, some great mystery. That it was a sign, and yet meant no evil. I

Page 210

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

have told thee, I knew no evil in it, nor fear. Q. And what put you upon what you say his Lordship said afterward: that you were she he had sought? A. There was that in me that matched what he willed. Q. To wit? A. That I had sinned, and should sin no more. Q. How is this - did he not keep you in sin and lechery? A. That I should see it the better. Q. Then what he willed was not what we suppose: a cure to his impotency? A. What he sought was what came to pass. Q. That a common whore shall provoke what passes belief? Is not that your sense? This visitation is made upon you, not him? Did he not kneel beside and below you? Q. Such was seeming. I was there of his will, not mine. I but served him. Q. And who think you these two men to have been? A. I shall not tell thee now. Q Enough of these shufflings. You are before the law, mistress, not at one of your prophetick meetings. I will be put off no more. A. Yes thee will, master Ayscough. For if I told thee now, and of his Lordship's will, thee would mock me, and not believe. Q. Thy present obstinacy is worse than thy ancient whoring. Why smil'st thou? A. Not at thee, I beg thee to believe. Q. You shall not escape me, mistress. A. Nor thee what God has given. Q. What of Dick - seemed he changed upon that next day? A. Not in his lickerousness. Q. In what manner? A. As we rode. Q. What as you rode?

Page 211

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

A. His Lordship was rid ahead, and Mr Brown and Jones lay behind. Q. What passed? A. I will not say. But that he was in a state of lust, as an animal, as Adam unregenerate. Q. And you relieved him of it? A. I will not say more. Q. You mean by the roadside, among bushes? A. I will not say more. Q. What happened that night at Wincanton? A. His Lordship called me not, except soon after we arrived, and then but to take a message to Jones, that his Lordship must speak with him at once. Q. Do you know why? A. No. I gave the message, that is all. Q. Jones did not speak to you concerning it? A. No. Q. And his Lordship did not ask further for you that night? A. No. Q. Did Dick come privately to you? A. Yes. Q. And you lay with him? A. Yes. Q. Were you not tired by then of his attentions? A. I accepted them as before, tho' not as harlot. Q. Out of pity, you would say? A. Yes. Q. Did he not arouse thy womanly lust? A. That is not thy business.

Page 212

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

Q. He did, is it not so? (_Non respondet__) Stayed he long in your chamber? A. As before. He was gone when I awoke. Q. The next day you passed to Taunton. Spake his Lordship more with you on that day? A. 'Cept once, when he rode a little beside and apart with us, and asked how I did, whether I was not sore from the riding. And when I said yes, for I had not the use of it, he said, Our journey is near done, you may rest soon. Q. His manner was polite? A. Yes. More as at the beginning. Q. Did you not ask him then of what had passed at the heathen temple? A. No. Q. Was the moment not opportune? A. I knew he would speak of it when he wished. And when he did not, would not. And I believed now I was under his protection, and more precious to him than he showed by his cruelty earlier, or seeming indifference. Tho' still I knew not why. Q. And that day, did you satisfy Dick's state of lust again, as you rode? A. No. Q. Did he not attempt it? A. I would not have it. Q. Was he not angry? Did he not force you to it? A. No. Q. And bade his time until that night? A. Nor then neither. For we found no inn at Taunton that could lodge us as we wanted, and must put up at a poor place, out of the town's centre. There I must sleep with other maids, and his Lordship and Mr Brown in one small chamber, and Jones and Dick upon hay in the loft. I could not be apart with either his Lordship nor Dick, even had they wished it. Nothing passed. Unless the lice and fleas. Q. So be it. The next day? A. We rode all day, I think more distance than before. And when we had passed Bampton, we went not by the high-road. By green paths and lanes, where we met few or none. Q. Did you not say you purposed not to return to Claiborne's, and to find your parents and sisters again

Page 213

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

in Bristol? A. Yes. Q. Then why chose you to come this far? Is it not far west of where you might most conveniently have escaped for Bristol? A. Yes, it is so. But I had not courage for it, nor saw means. At heart I was whore still, may the Lord Jesus Christ forgive me. A bagnio life makes hard in sin, soft in much else. We have our servants and our needs looked to, as much as any lady. And besides grow creatures of our humours, we think only of today. We have no feet upon the rock, no faith to help us provide against our future. I minded still to go to Bristol, as I told thee, and to change my life; yet cared not at the time that I went as I did, since it was ever more away from London, so be it at his Lordship's whim. Thee may scorn, I will not deny it. When we rode from Taunton it was to be the last day so. From that tomorrow I will not let thee scorn; or if thee do, thee'll scorn theeself. Q. Enough. No more of this. A. Yea, I must. For else thee can't understand my soul's road, nor his Lordship's neither. Thee must forgive, I tell thee not the truth entire in one matter. 'Tis true I began out of force, then out of pity for Dick. I came now to know he pleased me more than that, yea, more than any man else I had known since the first, when I was mere girl and in folly against all my parents had taught me. He knew not the sinful art of love, no not one whit; yet knew to please me more than those who did. For he loved me the more, with all his strange heart, despite he could not say it in any words. And I have thought since, in his no-words lay more speaking than in any spoken. Which came not of what passed in the flesh, that is of our fornicating and beastly selves, but of other times. When I did sleep against his breast upon the road, of looks we passed, I know not, when I heard what he would say better than if he had spoke it out loud. He came to my bed on that last night, and had his will of me; then lay a-weeping in my arms, and I wept also, for I knew why he wept. As if we lived in two prison cells, able to see the one the other and touch our hands, yet no more. And thee may call it what thee will, I tell thee this weeping was most strange and most sweet to me. For I saw it freed me from my harlotry, my sin, my hardness of heart, all I had become since first I lost my innocence. 'Twas as if for those years I had lived in darkness, and made of stone; and now was flesh again, if not yet Christian, and fully saved. Believe me or not, master. Every word I say is truth. Q. You loved the man? A. I might have loved him, could he have shed his Adam. Q. And what heard you in this speaking without words? A That he was a desperate unhappy man, as I was myself, tho' for a different cause; and that he knew me so, and loved me also that I did not mock and spurn him. Q Very well. Now did you not upon this last day's journey ride aside with his Lordship? A. Yes, the summit of a mountain, that lay beside the road, and showed many miles to the land ahead. Q Did Dick not point in a certain direction? To a particular place? A. I took it to be in show, to seem as he knew the country.

Page 214

for the violets. and make an oath that all he said was true. for he forced me to kneel. Then all of a great sudden he changed. I know not why. Q. Two hours' ride or more. Q. and now said I was brought by him to please them and must do so. by Dick. Q It was not reasonable? You gave him no other cause than this. Q. like he was half mad. that you had picked a nosegay? A. nor knew nothing of women of vice.processtext. Q. that on the contrary he was well pleased with me. Now what said he later? A He called me to him when we had supped. It was westward. so he said. more cruel than ever before.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. then a whore. feign I came not from the bagnio. Dick was dismissed as soon as I was brought. make myself naked before him. and appear as simple as I could. It may be so. I could not say. and maintained his cruelty was no more than a test. More I cannot tell. http://www. Page 215 . I must put off my London airs. and I thought for his old purpose. But he would not. and spoke not English. No. I know not what else. Said he no more of these keepers? A. and he should reward me for it. Yes. ' expecting he would at last try his prowess upon me. as I were a penitent. By these waters you supposed those he had spoken of in London? A. That they was foreign. This place was how far from where you rested that night? A. he made me sit on a bench before nor any other language of Europe. And nothing else passed as you rode? A. which I was obliged to do. And spoke of they he called the keepers of the waters. that we should meet tomorrow. And meek. It was in that same direction. when his Lordship would have me . Was not where Dick pointed. to that cavern where you were on the morrow? A. His Lordship took offence that I wore violets beneath my nose. Q. He took it as an impertinence. I am sure not. That I must be in all like an innocent maid.html Q. He said nothing till later. Did his Lordship ask Dick to point? Did they exchange some sign first? A. Q. Q. However. was it not? A. not forward in any way. and called me impertinent as I say. with no knowledge of sin. I put them in a band there for their sweet scent.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

Q. He was not more particular- did he not name some particular place or country from which these persons came? A. No. Q. Did he never intimate where he had heard of them? A. Only that he much wished to meet them. Q. He had not met them before, was that to be understood? A. Yes. Tho' it was not said plain, he had not. Q. Did you not think this strange, that his Lordship now talked of giving you to others, as a pandar might? A. Yes, in part. Q. Why only in part? A. I knew by then he spoke most in riddles. Q. Were you not made fearful again, even tho' you had thought what passed at the Wiltshire temple not evil in its intent? A. Still I saw behind his Lordship's dark humours no evil purpose. I did not understand what he did, and most feared my own ignorance. Q. I would know something more in general. Believed you that his Lordship knew of your amour with his servant? Was it done within his knowledge or behind his back? A. He knew, for he accused me of it, that I took too great a pleasure in Dick's embraces; as a master might say, you are bought for my pleasure, yet do find it in another's arms; and that I would have told him as much by the wearing of the violets. Q. He knew you lay with Dick in secret, outside of those occasions he commanded? A. What I had been hired for was done but twice, and then no more, so to say his Lordship gave up hope of it, and I was abandoned to this man; yet still seemed he angered that I took pleasure in it. Q. You would say, that he saw your coupling answered not to his declared purpose, and so he cared no more? A. His Lordship had more than one purpose, and one a far greater. Q. It shall be explained. A. In good time. Q. To the nonce: was it not singular that he should put upon you that you must serve to these important strangers, yet not say you must now put Dick by?

Page 216

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

A. So it was, even so. Q. That was his wish, as you conceived - that you should be these persons' whore if they so desired, and despite your appearance of innocence? Not less? A. So I understood it. Q. All this was said by way of command: that you must do it? Not that the choice lay with you? A. As his wish, that I must obey. Q. Nothing else was said to you by his Lordship? A. No. Q. You hesitate. A. I sought my memory. Q. And you still say no? A. I say no. Q. Mistress, there is that in your answers I do not like. 'Tis so you would tease, and riddle me. This is no riddling matter, I warn thee. A. If I speak riddles, I was set them. If I confuse thee, so was I confused. Q. His Lordship dismissed you? A. Yes. Q. You saw him no more until the morning? A. No. Q. You went to your room, and then Dick came? A. I was asleep when he came. Q. And did you not think, I must lie in another man's arms tomorrow? A. I did not know the morrow then, Jesus be praised. Q. The morrow is close. Thou shalt put off no more. A. I know it. Q. Had you no warning that Jones would run away that night?

Page 217

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

A. No, none. Q. He spoke not of it to you? A. We spoke little. Q. Why? A. Because he would pry when we started out; and would seem always to know more of me than he did; that I owed him a favour for his silence. Q. He did not lie in that? A. Notwithstanding. He would ever mock Dick for his dumbness and deafness. I liked not that, neither. He never spoke plain, till the end. Q. Knew you that Mr Brown should part also, so soon upon your setting out? A. No. Q. Were you not surprised? A. No. It seemed not strange. Their task was done. Q. Very well. Mr Brown rode away, and you set off upon the Bideford road. What next? A. We rode, and entered soon upon woods, a most wild place; and went there till we came upon a stream that fell across the road, and we must cross. Where his Lordship stopped and looked back upon Dick, for he rode ahead, and we behind; and raised a hand with the forefinger stretched out so, the other forefinger so, as a cross. To which Dick replied by pointing ahead as we stood, which was not to the road we trod, that crooks back at where the stream crosses, but up the hill, or mountain, on the course the water fell by. Q. What put you upon this? A. That Dick must know this place, and his Lordship not; or was not so certain of it. Q. Were other signs made? A. His Lordship set his hands apart, as if to measure. And Dick raised two fingers. Which I understood not then, I think now to have meant, it is two miles away. There came no more sign. Yet they moved not from where we stood, but stared still together, like two people tranced by each other's eyes. Till of a sudden his Lordship turned his horse, and rode away through the trees, up the hill where Dick had pointed. Q. Said he nothing to you? A. No, not one word, nor looked at me. 'Twas as I was not there. Q. Had you seen them before stare in this manner?

Page 218

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

A. Yes, once or twice, not so long. Q. It was not as master and man? A. More as two children will stare each other out. Q. Then with a seeming hostility? A. Not that, neither, not as an ordinary look. As if they spoke, tho' their mouths moved not. Q. Very well. You entered upon the valley above. Jones has told me of it, how it lies. Come to where first you stopped. A. We must soon dismount, or our horses fall. And there it was Dick who led our pillion and the pack-horse, and I walked after, and his Lordship led his own horse behind. The all in silence, save for the beasts' feet upon the stones, and we went beside the stream. And so for a mile or more, I know not. Where Dick of a sudden stopped and tied the two horses to a thorn branch, and took his Lordship's when it came, and tied it to another. And there began to unrope his Lordship's great box, from the seam the pack-horse bore. Q. Dick did not stop of his Lordship's command? A. Of his own will, like as if he knew best where we went. Q. Continue. A. His Lordship came beside me, and spoke. And said that my dress was not sufficient for who we met. That he had brought an other more suitable and now I must wear it, for we were close. And I asked, was there no better road? And he answered, no, there was only this. And then, that I should not fear, no harm would come if I did as I was told. The while, the box was upon the ground and opened, and his Lordship himself gave me the clothes from it, that lay upon the top. Q. What were these clothes? A. Why, a smicket and petticoat, then a fine white holland gown, ruffled with cambric upon its sleeves, where it bore pink ribbands also, in two knots. Fine clocked Nottingham stockings also, and white likewise. And shoes of the same. 'Twas all white and new, or fresh laundered. Q. You would say, as a May dress? A. As a country maid might wear, of dimity. Tho' finer made, and of finer cloth, as for a lady. Q. And stitched also to your figure? A. Well enough. Q. You had had no knowledge of these, before? A. No, none. Q. And next?

Page 219

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

A. His Lordship said I must bathe, before I donned my new clothes. Q. You must bathe! A. That I must be pure of my body, with no taint of my former world upon me. And he did point a little back, to where the stream did deepen a piece, as a pond, albeit not so deep, and small; for most it ran shallow, upon stones. Q. What thought you to this? A. That it was too cold. To which he said I must, this stream should be my Jordan. Q. He said these words: This stream shall be thy Jordan? A. Yes. Q. Spake he as in jest? A. Thee shalt hear in what jest he spake. It seemed jest then, tho' no jest to me. Q. You did bathe? A. As best I could. For the water came only to my knees, and I must crouch in it, ice-cold as 'twas. Q. You were naked? A. I was naked. Q. Did his Lordship watch you? A. His back was turned, that I saw. And after, my back upon him. Q. And then? A. I dried myself upon the bank; and did put on the new clothes, and warmed myself in the sun. When his Lordship came to me again where I sat and gave to me a knife that Dick had use to carry, and said, It is May Day, and here is may enough. Thou shalt be queen, Fanny, but thou must crown thyself. Q. He spoke again in good humour? A. Passing good, be it so his mind was elsewhere. For he turned away some paces, and watched where Dick had gone. Q. When was he gone? Was it before you had bathed? A. As soon as the box was opened, and the horses better tied. Across the stream and up the steep side, where we could see him no more. Q. The horses were not left tied as when you came?

Page 220

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

A. No. For as I did go a little apart to bathe, I saw Dick a-tying of them to long tethers, which he put to the thorn-tree stems that were there; and that he had took off their saddles and harness and set them so that they might drink from the stream and take what grass there was. Q. As to say, their stay would be long? A. Yes. Q. And you saw not Jones, when he was caught up and did watch you? A. I had no thought of him, nor anyone, only of myself. I made my crown, as I could; then Dick was returned, and signed to his Lordship, who waited. Q. A sign like this, was it not so? A. No, not so. Q. Jones says it was so. A. No, 'twas not, and I doubt he could see so well, he was hidden. Q. Then how? A. With the hands clasped thus, before his breast. Which I had seen before, and knew it meant much like to saying, It is done; or I have done what is commanded. So here it might mean, Who we meet awaits us above. For his Lordship came at once where I sat, and said we must go. As we did, tho' first I must be carried. The ground was most rough and steep at the first, and Dick took me in his arms. Q. Seemed he not excited, or in good spirit, when he returned from above? A. No. Q. Very well, enough for this present. We shall not yet mount with thee to the cavern, mistress. My man shall take thee to a room apart to dine. Thou'rt not to speak with thy husband, or none else, is it clear? A. So be it. I shall with my soul's husband, that is Christ.

Page 221

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

THE TALL, slightly bent-shouldered clerk opened the door, and followed his prisoner out. But then she had to follow him, as he led the way down a short passage to another door. Only when she was inside the room, and turned back to look at him, did he speak. 'Ale or more water, mistress?' 'Water.' ‘You will not leave this room.' She shook her head, agreeing. He gave her a long stare, as if he doubted her word, then left, closing the door behind him. The room was evidently a small bedchamber, with only one window, before which stood a table and two chairs. She did not move to it, but beside the bed, and stooped, lifting the side of the coverlet and looking on the floor below it; pulled out what she was looking for, and quickly raising her skirts, sat upon it. She did not have to remove any other garment for the very simple reason that no Englishwoman, of any class, had ever worn anything beneath her petticoats up to this date, nor was to do so for at least another sixty years. One might write an essay on this incomprehensible and little-known fact about their underclothing, or lack in it. French and Italian women had long remedied the deficiency, and English men also; but not English women. All those graciously elegant and imposing upper-class ladies in their fashionable or court dresses, whose image has been so variously left us by the eighteenth-century painters, are - to put it brutally - knickerless. And what is more, when the breach was finally made - or rather, covered - and the first female drawers, and soon after pantalettes, appeared at the beginning of the nineteenth century, they were considered grossly immodest, an unwarranted provocation upon man; which is no doubt why they so swiftly became de rigueur. Rebecca stood relieved, and pushed the earthenware Jordan back beneath the bed, and straightened the coverlet. Next she walked slowly to the window and looked out, down upon the large back courtyard of the inn. A private coach was drawn up, its four horses still harnessed, as if it had just arrived, on the far side. Its nearer door bore a painted coat of arms, supported by a wyvern and a leopard; its motto and closer detail, beyond two quarters of red diamonds, impossible to read. There was no sign of its passengers or coachmen; only an ostler's boy, seemingly left to watch the horses. Here and there some hens and a gamecock scratched among the cobbles, and sparrows, and a pair of white doves, which the boy fed from a palmful of grains, idly, as he leant against the coach. Every so often he would put a fatter grain in his own mouth, and chew it. Suddenly Rebecca's head bowed and she closed her eyes, as if she could not bear to watch this innocent scene. Her mouth began to move, though no sound came from it, and it became plain she was speaking to that husband she had just given herself licence to address.

Page 222

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

The movements of her lips stopped. There were footsteps on the wooden floor of the passage outside. Her eyes opened again, and she sat quickly, in one of the chairs, her back to the door. It opened, the clerk stood there, staring a moment at her back. She did not turn; some moments later, as if belatedly realizing that no one had come in, no normal sound followed that of the opening door, she glanced back over her shoulder. It was no longer the sardonic clerk she had expected: another man, elderly, of medium height yet rather stout, a gentleman in grey. He stood neither in nor out of the room, doom in the doorway, and watched her. She rose, but made no other obeisance. He wore a plain black hat, and his right hand gripped a strange thing, a shepherd's crook, its foot on the ground. However, this was no shepherd; where the top of a working crook is of wood or horn, here it was of polished silver, like some staff of office; closer to a bishop's crosier than anything else. Nor was his stare at her that of a normal man; much more that of a person sizing an animal, a mare or cow, as if he might at any moment curtly state a price that he considered her worth. There was something both imperious and imperial in that look, indifferent to ordinary humanity, oblivious of it, above all law; and something also that was unaccustomed, almost at a loss to be seen there. Without warning he spoke, not to Rebecca, though his eyes did not leave her face. 'Make her step forward. She stands in the light.' The clerk appeared outside, and beckoned urgently to her from behind the man in the doorway; two swift movements of a bent finger. She came forward. The foot of the silver-ended crook was quickly raised, to keep her at a distance. So she stood, some six feet away. His face was heavy, deprived of any signs of humour, good or bad, and without generosity; or even, much more oddly, of any normal curiosity. One detected beneath it a hint of morose doubt that was also a melancholy. Even that was very largely obscured by the aura of absolute right, in both the ordinary and the ancient monarchical sense; an impassivity both habitual and imprisoning. He did not, now she was close, even look at her as a beast; but uniquely into her eyes, as if trying to read some almost metaphysical meaning through them. Rebecca faced him and gazed back, one hand upon the other in front of her belly; neither respectfully nor insolently; openly, yet neutrally, waiting. Slowly the man's hand slipped down his crook and he held it out, without threat, almost tentatively, until the curved silver end lay against the close sidepiece of her white cap. Twisting the crook a little, he pulled to draw her towards him. This was done so cautiously, in other circumstances one might have said timidly, that she did not flinch when the silver end of the crook touched her, nor when it began to coax her forwards. She obeyed, until the pressure at her neck ceased, and their faces were barely eighteen inches apart. Yet they seemed no closer; not just divided by age and gender, but by belonging to two eternally alien species. And now, as abruptly as he appeared, the man ends this wordless interview. The crook is jerked impatiently clear, and set firmly to ground again as he turns away, as if disappointed. Rebecca has time to see that he walks with a heavy limp. The crook-staff is no mere eccentric adornment, it is a necessity; and has just time also to see the clerk step back with a deep bow, and Mr Ayscough also, with a lesser one, then turn to follow his master. The clerk comes forward and stands in the doorway, with a faintly quizzical look at her. Most unexpectedly his right eye flickers, in the ghost of a wink. He disappears for a moment or two then returns bearing a wooden tray, on which is a cold chicken; a rummer and a small jug of water; a leather tankard, black with age; a bowl of green pickles, eldershoot and gherkins; a salt-pot, two apples, and a loaf of bread. These he sets upon the table, and produces from his pocket a knife and two two-pronged forks. Now he takes off his coat and throws it on the bed. Rebecca has not moved, and stares at the ground. The clerk sits in his shirt sleeves, and briskly seizes the chicken, knife in hand. 'You must eat, woman.'

Page 223

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

Rebecca moves and sits opposite him, at the window; when he would pass her the breast he has detached, she shakes her head. 'I would send it outside, to my husband and father.' 'No. Feed your bastard. If not yourself. Come.' Now he cuts a slice of the loaf, and puts the breast upon it, and places it before her. 'Come. You are safe from the gallows till then.' And again his right eye flickers, almost as if it is a tic, outside his control. 'Your man and your father dine not so well. Yet they may dine if they would. I have had bread and cheese sent. What do they say? They say they will not eat the devil's food. There it lies, on the street before them. Charity made sin.' 'No. 'tis not. I thank thee.' 'As I thee, mistress For the absolution.' She bows her head a few seconds, as she had when she prayed alone; and grace said, begins to eat. And so does he, a leg, and a great slice of bread, folded round a forkful of the pickles; alternate bite by bite. It is a kind of wolfing, without delicacy. An acknowledgement of reality: that life is always near starvation, and plenty . such as this not to be trifled with. She pours water into the rummer; and later, spears a gherkin from the pickle, and another; and finally a third. The second breast she refuses when it is silently offered; but takes her apple. She watches him opposite, and when he seems finally done, the chicken in ruins, the ale supped, speaks. 'What is thy name?' 'Royal, mistress. John Tudor.' 'And where did thee learn to write so swift?' 'The short hand? By practice. 'Tis child's play, once learnt. And where I cannot read when I copy in the long hand, why, I make it up. So I may hang a man, or pardon him, and none the wiser.' And once again she sees that tic in his right eye. 'I may read. I cannot write, save my name.' 'Then you are saved writing.' 'I would learn, e'en so.' He does not answer, but the ice thus broken, she continues. 'Are thee married?' 'Aye. And rid.' 'How rid?'

Page 224

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter,

'I married one worse than you, for her mouth. Who never spoke save she disputed or denied. She matched Joe Miller's jest. Should I forbid her another crooked word, why, she'd cry ram's horn to my face. Until one day I beat her as she had well deserved, and she would not brook it, and ran off. And did me a great mercy.' 'Where went she?' 'I know not nor care not, mistress. Where women always go - to Hell or another man. She was not so fair as you. I was well rid.' Again his eye flickers. 'Thee, I might have asked after.' 'She never came back?' 'No.' He shrugged, as if he regretted having spoken. "Tis old water, well past the mill-wheel. Sixteen years gone.' 'And have thee always worked for the one master?' 'Near enough.' 'Thee knew Dick, then?' 'Nobody knew him, mistress. He was not to be known. Tho' he knew thee, it seems. More's the wonder.' She looks down. 'He was man enough.' 'Was he so?' She looks hesitantly up at him, aware that his question is sarcastic, yet plainly not understanding why. He stares away out of the window for a moment, then back at her. 'Didst never hear of such, when thou wert what thou wast?' 'Of such?' 'Come now, mistress. You were not always saint. You have said as much today, and most credible, that you know your men. Did you not take one whiff?' " '1 grasp thee not.' 'What is most unnatural, and a great crime. Where servant may become master, and master, servant.' She stares at the clerk a long moment; he gives a small nod, to kill her doubt, and then again there comes that minute spasm of his eyelid. 'No.' 'Saw you no sign of it?' 'No.' 'Nor mayhap thought it might be so?' 'Nor that, even.'

Page 225

Page 226 . unless you be asked.processtext. Know you what the vice of Sodom betokens? A. Only when the vehicle has drawn at any time since first you met his Lordship. Nothing else. The clerk stands and looks down to watch. Yes. One that a person believes 1s truth.' Then he goes and picks his coat from the bed where it lies and puts it back on. 'Tis but his manner. and without turning to where she still sits. We will credit you the first.' 'There are two truths. And do not you speak of it. 'He'll hear aught but that. No.' There comes from down below the sound of hooves on the cobbles. Saw you ever. I fetch you again to Mr Ayscough shortly. a coachman's cry. and shall. if you value your life. 'Thee.' She receives one last tic of his right eyelid. mistress. and then he is gone. You rest upon oath. 'Speak truth.html 'Very well. any sign that he and his man were its victims? That they were guilty of practising it? A. Rebecca Lee further deposeth. let us recommence. but the second is what we seek.' She bows her head in a little sign of acquiescence. http://www. does he speak again. And never outside these walls. 'I leave you now. the heavy grating of iron-shod wheels. Do your necessities. God save your innocence. _die et anno praedicto __ Q.' He walks to the door. mistress. almost as if to himself. I am most certain. yet there he stops and looks back at her. Mistress. no. First I would ask you this. and one that is truth incontestible. mistress. Fear not.' 'I have spoke truth.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I should have asked after. Q. do not forget it.' 'I must tell what I believe.

most often. What was false itself: that reputation was false. when his Lordship first spoke of his failing to you. tho' we had use to discuss all who came there. 'Tis well known. and every scandal we had heard of them. Even he made no hint of such vice. Q. No. and coxcombs. As I shall doubt where I please. Q. and most wicked freely. Now come to the cavern. http://www. his liking his books and studies more than flesh like mine. Q. Was there no hint. nor report of it neither. Then no less truth for being doubted. this must be the true cause? Those I have known said to be such have a different manner. he may say what he likes. Speak on. and so must they damn all else. Very well. by resentment of what they are. 'Tis said. They are more beauish than proper men should be. who has the most evil tongue in London. a lady in silver. and whether I has surmounted this taste in him. Q. tho' 'twas yet hidden from our eyes behind a fold of land. A. First as we mounted to where the cavern lay. himself question me. Q. What answered you? A. How. His Lordship seemed not like this? A. what their faults were. where I was sinner. Nor later? A. Mistress Lee.html Q. No. being damned themselves. Doubted truth is no less truth.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I respect your judgement here. there stood sudden in our the most happy to hear ill of a friend. Lord B….processtext. Q. Only of his Lordship's coldness. There are names for them. You are certain? A. petty-masters or pretty-boys. not one piece. Now. A. or not say. More foppish. more full of malice and scandal than aught else. Still shall I tell truth. He was silent as stone.. that such was the true cause of his insufficiency? A. When Dick did use you before his eyes. Q. Nothing was said of him to this wise at Mistress Claiborne's. No. he did not command it be enacted in manner unnatural? Not in word nor nothing else. in silver? Page 227 . master Ayscough. Q. Q. Q. A. Did you never think. Certain he bore no common sign of it.

in plain though I knew not why. She showed no surprise at your coming? A. did welcome it. or northmen over their breeches. No. gazing upon us. that fitted almost close as hose. And more strange still. in light greeting. that was not bound. I mean of most simple and easy sort. And so she stood there. not one word. Page 228 . so. as she had waited our coming. with her hands held in front of her. nor a curl to be seen. yet shorter. No. nor who she might be. nor flowering. She was no common person. And Dick besides. so to say he dared not look her in her face. So she had lain in hiding till then. Q. yet cut strange in a line above her brows. Q. wore narrow trowse. Q. as 'twere in prayer. yet more narrow. without their tops. Q. from thin air? A. And on her feet she wore as a man's riding-boots. and did salute us in strange fashion also. that shone like silver. so. Young and fair to see.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. She was alone. as seamen wear. He fell at the once upon his knee. Q. as black as a raven's wing. as one who had not expected such courtesy. and did take off his hat. Q. She did not speak? A. His Lordship addressed her? A. such that I saw once a-riding into London. Wore she no cap or hat? A. Mean you to maintain she sprang from nothing. tho' most strange. What response made his Lordship? A. with full dark hair. that had no pattern to it. Q. it seemed in respect.processtext. Yet held thus for a moment only. Was she attended? Was there no groom or servant? A. as of black leather. and I must follow. And I must tell thee her manner was strange as her appearance. No. And above a close-fit smock. He knelt with head bowed. Q. No. Whereat the young lady did smile. Why say you she was lady? A. cut of the same cloth. yet.html A She was clothed. not none. being done. http://www. as another might raise a hand to a friend. Q. that cares not for pomp and formal appearance. Young or old? A. for she moved and stood not as a lady might. more as a young gentleman.

Not English. like she found it not necessary. yet fell more stiff. and the taming of her fierceness as a whet to the boldest rakes. save she had dark eyes and hair. I speak only of how it did come to my mind when first she stood there. Claiborne thought to have her to the bagnio. That she made no affectation of elegant manner. Who was taken from a ship captured in the West. This upon the path was gentle of face. and said as cruel a sailor as any man. Save that he did seem to know who she was. You say she was young? A Of my own age. It may be fifty paces. http://www. tho' mistress unto the corsair's. He was renegade. that they called the Corsair Woman. yet was exceeding handsome and fine-figured. In looks she was most like unto one showed these two summers past in a tent beside the Mall. Why say you she seemed more as a young gentleman in her behaving? A. And would stare at us who paid to view her so she would kill us were she not chained. to say we puzzled her. Q. and hanged at Deptford docks. yet her manner not modest. not more. She wore no red nor ceruse. Then of what nation? A. No. or less.processtext.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. she placed her hands upon her hips. but those who kept her would not agree a price. nor seeming fearful as is their wont. she spared. she was Moorish? A Turkess? A. should kill herself rather than suffer it. I pray thee do not mistake. as a man might. How far from you stood she in this manner? A. Q. I tell thee. Seemed she of English blood. as a London lady might. when she moved. Q. And said besides. She did seem at a loss at our kneeling. Q. no true Corsair woman. Made she no especial sign of greeting or respect to his Lordship? A. and a skin of olive. or foreign? A. They shone like best silk. Of none I have seen. but a common Egyptian paid so to pretend. Of she in the tent d heard some declare she was false. Thought you they had met before? A. Q. and had somewhat of the Jewesses I have seen in London.html Q. she would not bear such a thing. Q. For soon after. Of what stuff were these her singular clothes? A.captain. Q. as she had no need of fashion nor airs to prove her state. not cruel. I know not. This woman you speak of in the tent. Page 229 . This lady upon the path was not she.

yet had a freedom and an ease no Englishwoman knows of. were you not out of your wits with the sun and your walking? I do not say you lie. as I say. Q. or not at all. There his Lordship a little apart. I did see. It is too late now to fear. 'Twas as the daughter of a house. Q. my heart had of a sudden sore misgiven me of what we did. while I knelt by the pool. before her parents' coming. may God forgive me. for she did stoop and pluck a flower and raised it to her nose to smell. She did make that same gesture with her hands. Then say it A. and drank of it. No more. Where she now did stand. so might one invite a stranger to a house or chamber. and turned and entered in its darkness and was gone. A. I liked not that black cavern's mouth across the grass. No. What followed? and he answered. This path by which you had mounted . Then his Lordship arose and we mounted where she had first stood. you were hot. 'Twas faint.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I pray she shall be thy friend. Did you not ask his Lordship who this person was? A. that he should enter at his will. The time is come. should be alone in such a place. It is not heard of. Q. and you saw what was never in front of you. in truth in all else innocence and beauty. that seemed more fit for a gateway to Hell than to curing waters. I told ill of her to Jones. Much is not heard of. Now I ask you. far less a lady. Q. strange dress and manner. before the cavern. but he Page 230 . so to say we should wait there. I should come to more harm now if I disobeyed. had others passed that way often? A. Proceed. Saw you no malice nor evil in this person? A. Q. as we waited. that knew not England nor its ways. but had pushed forth from your heated mind in the semblance of reality? A. and I was hot. and could see all before us. Q. for the sun beated down. http://www. Fanny. so. Q. that any woman whatsoever. We came to where a pool and stone did stand. I would have him to assure me I should come to no harm in what we did. simple and idle as within her private garden. Aye. And when his Lordship spoke.html Q. She was angered? A. that is.seemed it well trod. And then again of a sudden she did show with her arm behind her. Now I must tell thee. Q. Thee must judge when all is said. I would know more of the keepers. The keepers await. then did turn and walk away. I am sure not. and seeing us. and bathed my face.processtext. did point towards the pool. it seemed more we did amuse her. To which he replied. I answered that I began to fear. mistress. and one of foreign birth. To which he said. His Lordship came to where I sat beside the pool and said. for she smiled still. the cavern's mouth withal. yet that there was some disorder in your spirits. No. So might she had we never been there.

http://www. Very well. I fell on my knees as we walked and begged his Lordship to tell me the truth. and held it in his hand. but no more than many others. What did you observe of it? A. like a maggot. When Dick seized my hand. while his Lordship came a two paces behind. Q. Q. He said. I know not what. Yes. I looked not towards the cavern. Q. It seemed new-burnt. who wore the mask of ordinary men. Q. and their keeper must be the Devil. It lay in a circle. On. First my eyes were weak after the brightness of the sun. He spake not in a rage. And now did I sink under great alarm that God forgive me I was fallen into the hands of two devils. tho' not. should I try to escape. No. I had done their service so well. and these waters they that are said to boil eternal for sinners in the deeps of hell. who I was now to meet. Yes. tho' he was drawn. and took my arm. so I must go with him to where Dick stood. ignorant that I was. by the stone. and begged to be spared. The maggot. more as one impatient I should mistake their purpose so. like it were to attend us. before his Lordship fetched you to Its great eye shone down upon us. Q. on the contrary I should be welcomed with open arms. and forward towards it. and knew not where I went save by Dick's guidance. Now his Lordship came beside me and took my other arm. Until of a sudden he made me turn upon my left hand.html grew impatient. did I not suppose if they took me to Hell. I had forgot to tell. and I saw only shadows. Page 231 . Q. and I was straightway made to walk by him toward the cavern. That floated in the inner cavern. as of a great fire. and then to kneel. in my fears I thought the better to prevent me. Why stop you? A. nor servant? A. had I not been the Devil's good servant? Should I not fear Heaven's anger far more? And then was I pulled to my feet again. Did you not mark a burnt place beside the cavern's mouth? A. Q. like a great swollen maggot. I return a moment. my blood did curdle in my veins. And all this swept upon me with such force. A.processtext. yet was there no pile of ashes. the last thing I should meet was punishment. The woman in silver beckoned not. Saw you. and said.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and must as well put on my crown of may. No more of this. What is this? A. and I must perforce call out in my fear. Did not his Lordship threaten you with his sword? A. a sign from the cavern that the time was come. Q. I knew I had sinned. I was too lost in my fears and thoughts. I cannot tell. What maggot? A. and must move on. white as snow upon the air. To which he told me quick I was a fool and said.

its head with the eye larger still. that they may the easier think the worst of them. Q. tho' less. so it might vent its belly forth there. timber. More than a man in height. Dost know what a harlot is. then I say no more. yet beat no wings. and was fat. save that it was there. and I did see other eyes along its sides that shone also. Q. At twice a man's height. I'll know more of this maggot. And you say. and the Devil at thy tail. It lay not on the ground? It was suspended . Q. Or a windhover. Yes. That is. and upon the path. Q. nor the passage to its inner chamber neither? A. And if thee won't have it there. 'tis not to be believed. none. Ten to twelve feet? A. How high in the air? A. none. and like in colour. through a greenish glass. I thought not then of measure. as three coaches long or more? Why. nor legs neither at that first. And at its end there was four great funnels black as pitch.processtext.html Q. Had it jaws and teeth? A. than this. Thee'd. this is fancy entire. but six black holes or mouths beneath. How came this thing within a cavern whose mouth would not admit it. or more. I know not. as they do. as it were wood japanned.there were ropes. I am dammed as a stream is dammed. yet not of flesh. Why say you maggot? A. could you not see? A. Two men. as at the temple. or all? A. So I first believed it to be. master Ayscough? What all men would have all women be. No. I may sooner believe thy three witches that was told to Jones. Not when first we stood before it. Q. I Page 232 . Thou mak'st it up. Q. it hung in the air like to a kite.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. make me mirror of thy sex. I will not lie. For it had a seeming head. Of white. and a tail. You alone. large as three coaches end to end. and must spill to waste. Did it move? A. All. yet no string. thee art man. it may be more. http://www. Q. Q. A. Of what girth or circumference? A. or fresh-tinned metal. What appearance had it? A. Q. Q.

Q. and another. so the moon in middle wane. as oven before baking. Q. and deem it not evil? A. I knew them not. A. I command you to describe this smell. and held honey within. tho' all of equal size. As I thy self-weening piety. Q. Upon its side was a wheel with figures thereafter. Page 233 . I could not say in words. for all its seeming. Q. mistress. No. for I knew this must bring no evil. it might be a swallow flying. as of a closed furnace that flames. and that bore many spokes about its hub. And yet another was as a circle. And soon did I smell of that sweet smell I knew at the temple. There were no alphabet letters. yes. of a flower. Q. By this smell. There was as a humming. Like also to a cat that purrs. in a line. Q. upon its belly. Q. I'll not yet dam thy tale. Made it no sound? A. or divided in two halves by crescent line. you may tell good and evil by smell? A. Q. its one half black. as letters or numbers. as it might come to nostrils less blest. and my heart had relief. Now tell how innocent blessedness doth smell. They were in a line. All that was good in what does smell. though I smell it yet. And the figures? A. not strict to the life. No. For it was of innocence and blessedness. You marked no emblem of Christianity? A. tho' low.bore it no marks other? A. And as I shall tell. How. and guessed it to be the same light that had floated above us there. as daubed upon a piece of china pot. A. but I'll see thee damned for a liar yet. Enough of thy licentious tongue. the other left white. Q. This most preposterous maggot . or his wife like me. that it was the lion's carcase. you see a vile prodigy that denies all Nature's laws. in a blue as of summer sea.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. http://www. Q: What. One was in the likeness of a bird. and yet another. No. which stinketh over this thy manner of answering. How a wheel? A. I knew it not evil. that might be read by those who knew. by this smell. Very fine.processtext. nor numbers? A.html would I had a guinea for every man that hath told me he wished I were his wife. As 'twas painted upon its white skin. the same.

I am certain. She the rose that is weak. that showed nothing behind. Yet more bright than any lamp or sconce I've seen in this world. You say that still you smell this smell. No. you would say? attar. Passing close. But sweet. Q. Of life eternal. http://www. Q. Do you maintain that this was some engine come from the temple to this place. you may answer so. Q. I'll not be foisted by this havering. like to her. and falls if she is not supported. Q. Q. such as they of Hungary or Cologne? Of what must be burnt or of what smells of its natural essence? Why answer you not? A. that lasts but one day or two. which we did call the virgin rose when I was small. bergamot. but old. You are certain? Was there no smell of burning also? A. Mistress. Q. No. Saw you not. if she is wed within its season. No spark nor smoulder. A foot. 'Twas not to be beheld direct. Q. had I asked another question of you. But brighter than the sun. that might mount into Page 234 . A. And yet this is no more than to say a man's soul by his outward face.processtext. yet a place as one had been. As to that far wall here. Q. now you were close. as you told Jones? A. but yet stronger. of darkened ashes only.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. by what powers this great light shone? A. myrrh? Of flowers or fruit. It burnt not still? A. or more harsh? Of musk. or thick muslin. like that outside. But not in this. The white briar. No more? A. Did there not burn upon the cavern's floor a great fire. There was no smell. 'Twas dead. as she were 'stilled. Then most it smells of the white canker that grows in June in the hedge. or made waters. such as in what your belief or hope may lie. Q. and a bride must carry in her posy. long burnt away. Yea.html Q. and less sweet of her perfume than they that grow in gardens. and smells most pure when first it opens and is golden of its heart. 'Twas so. for it was covered as by milk-glass. How large was its expanse? A. How close kneeled you while it hovered above? A. Very well. Q.

Thee must hear more. on the which it rested. in expectation. Thee may say they are false. Thee would have me out of my wits. Q. Page 235 .html the heavens. Q. and came so until its belly rested nigh upon the ground. And Dick the same? He appeared not frightened? A. Q. point to the ground. not of heart or bowels. Of three steps or four. nor wings. Thee can see I am a poor woman. Then came there a sigh from the floating maggot. and tho' I saw not how. I do not blame thee. it seemed lit with candles behind. Thee would have me put wheels and wings to God's breath. of topaz and emerald. Q. so a gentleman of old before his king. And this sweet balm stronger upon us. but more like to those prodigies I have seen on show in London. Q. He had removed his hat once more. nor horses? A. More in awe. On. We were knelt. Yes. as I say. this was no true maggot nor living creature. a machine or engine? Yes. and it did begin to fall. also. Though it had no wheels. No I sooner that than of a sudden there appeared upon its side toward us an open door. I would be clear. as a bird? A. nor any person. Yes. How. and far besides. and from that belly now there stuck forth thin legs that had great dark paws. I tell thee this came not in a dream. and all of silver latticed. Q. yet the pieces smaller. but something of artifice. and a plain one besides. coral and peridot. Now in all this. most slowly. it issued from therein. A. As one who knew he entered the presence of a greater? A. a door? A. yet more clouded in their water than clear. done by deceit and trickery. ruby and sapphyr. and his hands upon its hilt. in fear of this monstrous prodigy? A. and the fool of apparitions. As of a coloured window in a steeple-house. and carried it by his side. What saw you inside? A. and not well lettered. in its central part. master Ayscough. he that he called the keepers of the waters must now appear. yet as it came to ground. The rather. by apparitions. Now his Lordship bowed his head. like a feather. in my natural. his Lordship with his sword before him. there fell upon a cunning hinge a set of stairs like for a coach that led to the ground from this door. I saw by ABC Amber LIT Converter. his eyes cast down. whose colours shone.processtext. I know not what. marked you his Lordship's behaviour? Seemed he alarmed. so to say. such a door was opened unto us. but not that they were not there to be seen. but so it seemed a wall of precious stones. Q. while it floated. tho' I could see none. http://www. I repeat. Why.

and daughter's daughter again. Q. and her mother flowers of red. and no sooner was she upon the cavern's floor. Q. Now one appeared in the door. but 'tis true. that looked as a spinner's legs. From out its body. A. as the first. http://www. Stood she and looked upon us the same as the two first. Proceed. Most strange. dressed as her. Q. No. For this second lady did the like come down the silver steps. Heaven sits not before me. not from mere foolery or the like. Unless that the oldest bore a posy of flowers of darkest purple. with that same kindly look. of purest white. 'twas plain they was mother and daughter. Q. she in silver we had seen before. but as clothes it pleased them to wear for their plainness and their ease. near to black. Q. Forty years. as 'twere in her train. then came more slowly to the ground beside them. nor black cats about them? Did not ravens croak outside? A. Be warned.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Wore they no jewellery or ornaments? A. All three there gazed upon us. mistress. that thee will doubt. thee know'st not who thee mocks. her hair white.whence came they? A. I give thee Heaven's word. for of a sudden above her did appear another lady. and did also smile upon us. On. Not one. in silver trowse and smock. I have more to tell. Nor broom sticks and cauldrons neither. Then thee must believe its poor servant. her hair grey. that was old. for all wore their garments as ones accustomed. Thus it seemed the one woman in her three ages. In what manner were these two other dressed? A. These legs . Page 236 .processtext. like blood. tho' she still bore herself straight and upright. Saw you not toads nor hares. Then further marvel. yet more gravely. but there she did turn her face. with such bulk above. What thickness had they? Had they thighs. still in her grain. Q. as might a queen. a constable's staff. Else were all three as peas in a pod. and the youngest as I say. How old was she? A. all of one thickness. yet did. so like were their features despite their different years. her body more frail. from those black mouths I spoke of. Q. not more. Q. why stop you? A. No and no. And in her hand she carried a posy of calves? A. than yet another lady appeared in the doorway. but more old. A. Thee'll think it immodest in she who was aged dame. white as snow. yet it seemed not so. and seemed too thin to bear such weight. spite of their ages.html Q. Smiled she and came brisk down the steps that led from the maggot and stood before us. a flail or such.

When his Lordship did answer in it. no. What tongue was this? A. that he had cast his sword aside. You say he cast it aside. Of Dutch and German.mean you rather he laid it carefully aside. in that same strange tongue. more of respect and simple gratitude. the white. Thee art a man of law. I must yet tell thee worse for thy disbelief. as if still we must believe by this what our eyes must doubt. Not one I had ever heard before. did come to where we knelt. As I say. A. and then will be no wiser. Thee may turn its good plank to dust and chips. Mistress. howsoever a better friend to thy suspicions. in no tongue that I knew. like to ghosts that pass a wall. so a man that has been abroad in dangerous places and comes now at last beneath his own roof. were joined as one with her. Not so fast. that is not true. when first she came to Q. left to stand where there were three. That we shall see. and French besides. first to his Lordship. This was none of these? A. they did turn towards tier and made as a step to be the closer. mistress . mistress. As most familiar. I know not how again. this would tax the most credulous fool in Christendom. as 'twere something he needed to carry no more. Yet held she no more in her posy her red and none other flowers. Q. This lady. disappeared. she of the grey hair. No. as if Page 237 . seemed it well. Both young and old that stood beside she in the centre. with thy flying mawk and its attercop legs. What tongues hast heard in thy life? A. her voice low and most sweet. Q. where he may be at his ease. master. http://www. the mother I will say. A. to which his Lordship replied. that he did. 'tis all thy picture lacks. as plain as I see thee now. she held the three kinds together. its sash and sheath likewise. so a son brought to his mother's presence after long absence.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. thee must play the hammer and the saw upon my word. and reached her hands to make him stand. A little also of the Spanish and Italian. I warn thee my word is of the spirit. or seemed to melt thus inside of her. Q. In what manner note A. the red. I wonder. Q. Look not angry. Q. I beg thee. For I'll not tell thee any other tale. as mother might son that had been on long travel and she had not seen nor held this many a year. and not in his previous self. the dark purple. and the one woman. Then did she speak to him. in this world. A. Q. And I forget also what had been strange in him at the beginning.processtext. And by some strange feat. and she placed her arms about him. the mother. thy scarecrow women. On with thy farrago. they did embrace. Then thee must play that part. or tossed it away. Q. as one familiar? 'T.html Q.

On. Q. as one who did not care for the airs of this world. nor Dick. So he cared never to wear it again. Q. like her daughter. Then she did make him stand also. these were more large. and tho' I know not what was said.html he cared not? A. so to say I was welcome. as a lady? A. as an old friend might. their purpose at an end. Next he turned to present us. too soon in season.processtext.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. And of a sudden stooped and reached out her hands to take mine and raised me to my feet. yet put it not on. not Fanny. that they bring to Bristol at midsummer. that he did seize most fervently and press to his mouth. Q. of the same kind. They were of the three colours. He showed too little wonder. she lifted my crown of may from off my head. nor knew of them. and I know not how he knew it. but the lady reached her hand to him. like it was her private favour she gave. and then passed me her posy of the three hues of flower. and so we stood close. This lady was before me. Most high.did they greet and speak as persons that had met before? A. As 'twere in return. who did so she knew me well. but new met. Yet not so. A. yet must curtsey for her flowers and smiled her a little back. Not one word. Moved she with ease and grace. Yet came of high estate? A. like to they had all been disguise or mask till then. and now 'twas my turn. but Rebecca. and held it to look at. and smiled down upon me. and that one I was baptized. to learn how much I had changed. What of these flowers she gave? A. yea. nor any other? A. for it fell ten feet away. With great simplicity. which he had never used before. Q. Now this . for she would not loose my hands when I was risen. You had seen none like before? Page 238 . where I knelt. Then he did learn it of her. and still she smiled and searched my eyes. Q. unless it be Claiborne. http://www. who remained upon his knees. Q. Q. I heard my name most clear. in the old fashion. and the sheath and belt the same. and kissed me gentle upon the mouth. tho' not as she. Nothing was spoke? A. for she set it back upon me. In all of this I knew not what to do. with a smile. You had never told him of it. Yes. and call them June pinks. as a mother or loving aunt might. the first Dick. had they not. as we had been old friends long apart. besides. Nor none in the bagnio. and far richer scent. behind. Q. First I must tell thee his Lordship spoke to her in their somewhat in look as they that grows upon the Cheddar rocks.

plain as plain to still my fear. see again? A. panels? A. Were there no hangings. to say I must not speak. the maggot's eye. a whore? A. Next did the lady take my hand anew and would lead me to the maggot. and of many colours. as her daughter had done. milk-glass as I say. and all the walls and even a part of the roof or ceiling above was of them. Thee shalt hear. it may be twenty foot. to ask what I must do. and did raise her hands before her breast. And upon many were signs or marks. so to say each had some magic or secret purpose. cut both square and round. And when I looked to her. His Lordship and Dick came also? A. Q. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. yet the hands moved not. The lady gave thee the precedence? A. Q. How large was this chamber? A. and nodded also to she the mother who had greeted us. Tho' hope to see and smell again. and looked to his Lordship that stood behind. her parlour. Q. They did. that I must give her my attention. And many also had small clocks or pocket-watches beside them. Q. a chamber walled all of those gleaming stones I had seen through the A. but not as those of our world. How. she seemed to understand what I would ask. and whence came this light. Q.thou. more long. I feared not her. yet I feared to enter. Q. How were these precious stones? A. At which he raised a finger to his lips. Q. Some shone more bright than others.processtext. 'twas none such. Q. Q. http://www. No. They seemed of clouded glass. tho' not that I could read. So I passed on with her as she wished and mounted the silver steps and was conducted inside her coach. yet hid all behind. but a place of great wonders. tho' less strong than from that light outside. over my shoulder. There were marks. How was it lit? A. What should I be else? I was as one struck dumb. and did smile also. How. they were not wound. By two panels upon the ceiling that gave a hidden light. Yes. no furniture? Page 239 . never. I know not how to say. Were not the hours marked? A. Tell more of this chamber. Didst not stand at a wonder to be treated so . and tall as broad. Not broad more than ten or twelve feet.

or the same. Q. from this inside seemed not as from out. and so I drank. 'tis too much. Q. like secret drawers in a chest. and to each of us brought one. and soothed my throat. and the silver steps likewise folded back of their own will. to calm all these my alarms at what did pass my understanding. or jargonelles. in which stood many flasks and bottles in a cloudy glass. And there she invited us to sit. It tasted not of spiritous liquor? Of brandy or gin? A. unless also by some spring. http://www. And next? A. his Lordship and Dick on one side. Page 240 . and reached above my head and touched a blue stone upon the wall. upon some secret design. and that door through which we had come closed of itself. as it had opened.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. In friendship or sisterhood. for it was golden. so a serving-maid might. finest shagreen. yet more sweet and subtle. which bared a cupboard. I know not. And I tell thee not. nor Dick neither. and poured of it into three small crystal glasses.processtext. and gave me the glass back. So we might sometimes at the bagnio. not of green glass. Of a sudden all was dark. others of liquid. where by taking my glass and drinking a little of it. to comfort also. it had of the taste of fresh apricocks. One of these flasks she took. I know not how. was of a sudden a window upon a great city we glid above. they were so thin. not flaw nor bubble. fearing some potion. for where was the chamber's end. Q. not cut. that were as eyes . like unto a 'pothecary's shop. 'Twas as if she would assure she neither meant nor would bring harm. And then she touched another stone. 'Twas not as it seemed. but held me as she might her child. I tell thee. She held you close? A. Yet when we were entered the lady touched her finger upon a precious stone beside her. no. or waited. I on the other. had not her arm fallen about my shoulder to comfort. tho' marvellous light to hold. clear as any.and I have forgot. and some it seemed held powders. that stood before the maggot's head. Next. that was dry. And I should have been mortal afraid again. Then went she to the far end of the chamber and touched another stone. Of juice from pressed fruit. when we had leisure. It was so. for all I saw his Lordship did not fear to swallow. but more of some fruit. Q. First I would not drink. she made proof I need fear for nothing. yet some outside that passed through those small windows I spake of at the first. There came a greater prodigy than all.html A. And mine I sat upon seemed covered with a white skin. Until she came back to where I sat and smiled again down at me. None when we came. it seemed to hold such as Canary wine. of wine. and there fell from both walls as 'twere a bench or sitting-places. and her other hand found mine in the darkness and pressed it. upon a hinge.. yet was soft as a down bed to my nether parts. there was no light inside the chamber. Next came she and sat beside me close. Q. What is this? A. as a bird.

from afar. as in a dream. much else besides. where went people and shining carriages. In naught else. Yet you say you might see this machine you were entered in moved not from the cavern? A. there was peace. streams and fishponds. and yet they moved. tho' no horse pulled them. 'Twas more rich-peopled countryside than city. And among them. Three feet by four.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Through this window we saw not as we might will. A. dust and chips. I know not. All built of white and gold. ln vain my eyes would linger. Q. This fine chamber of precious stones flew out of the cavern in an instant and above a great city? I am not your green gosling. Yet they moved. and so I took them. I swear by Jesus. mistress. and bore them along. while we flew above this city. or both. for in a field we passed above Page 241 . A. thee must believe. Tho' they could move as we. A. Q. or back to see again. for I might see by those smaller windows we moved not from the cavern. A window cannot see. http://www. but could not. here close. fair streets and malls. How great was this window by which you saw the city? A. Yet were they small trees set in rows. I believe thee a cunning whore still. Q. then to another. How know you they were orchards? Did you not fly far above? A. Q. its walls still stood outside. neither legs nor feet. I beg thee. This is more fit for chapbook than any ear of reason. Nor walked they upon the golden streets. like none upon this earth that I have seen or heard speak of. It may be. I tell thee what I saw. Notwithstanding it was done in part by some good magic. 'Tis in my telling I deceive thee.processtext. more long than high. Exceeding beautiful. as I shall tell. certain I was transported. or so seemed. that joined all. with all thy talk of hammers and saws. And what city was this you seemed to fly over? A. and all most real. Q. fair great highways that seemed paved of gold. and everywhere was parks and plaisances. Was there not that in the potion you were given which brought this fantastick vision? A. it happened so. or drugged. here to this side. gardens and green orchards. the very paving moved. I felt no drowsing nor sleep. Q. through glass ordinary. You were bewitched. Q. I must see as it saw.html A. tho' how I saw it I know not. Q. How moved? A. Q. 'Twas as some other would have us see: And over all. by the heavens am I not. No. I would fain turn my eyes to look aside. as orchards. I tell truth. You were not in your proper senses. mistress.

Q. On all was a sweet order. some olive or yellow. I could not see all. save fine large buildings where it seemed all did live in common. Q. Why. for many I saw swept in truth with broom and besom upon the paths and golden malls. as high summer. And what clothes? A. Seemed they as us in their outward? A. Q. so they did sweep a floor. While others did launder by the streams. http://www. I doubt not in their houses also. All green. It did seem they sang as they danced. each like to a great farmhouse in its field. No church. others black as night. And the sun shone on all. So now do I call this happy land that we was shown. albeit in lines. in those same silver trowses and smocks. All sign. Q. This land did worship cleanliness of spirit. We passed above so swift I saw not all. then mowed it in pretence. Were not those that were black savages naked? A. and the men danced while they made to broadcast seed. no priest. No. nothing of such. The most lay without fences or walls and scattered among the green. and the maidens did show most graceful motions. and in another men also. though with faster motion. Q. No sign of God nor His religion? A. like to June eternal. None of those. All fair.processtext. How danced they? A. not crowded close nor smoking foul. all as the three ladies were dressed. so to show they could not abide uncleanliness. and yet one that moved. No palaces or great buildings? No 'changes. courts of justice? A. No. they were too far below. the like. No. Of many nations. then threw their faces to the sky in joy. for all was no sooner glimpsed than gone. Saw you no churches? A. 'Twas so we stood upon a great tower.html were two rings of maidens dancing. Q. I know not? A. it might have legs. Nor heathen temples. some brown. Some white. in gardens and orchards. whether men or women. Page 242 .Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. yet no wont sign. and others we saw that walked like us. Q. and new appeared. hospitals. And the dancing men did rejoice in the bounty of the Lord. without distinction nor difference.

that were flat. Were there not soldiers. mistress. No. Nor workshops nor mills. and many fashioned else beside. none. None bore arms. Q. as they must live apart in their houses. none. in the open air. You call it how. It is June Eternal. yet others round. some of a figure of great tents. and of all kinds. likewise some were for men to dwell in. so the inside of a sea shell. is not .of stone or brick? Had they thatched roofs or tiled with slate? A. Page 243 . and held me always. Neither. _Alias__. men who bore arms? A. no criers of goods. no lovers. Were there no shops. Q. Q.html Q. And I saw also of these great common houses that each was for many to inhabit. What is not so? Do they live as Romish monks and closeted nuns? Did you see no children? A. Not to be believed in this world. that did listen to one who spoke. This is not to be believed.processtext. And where was your lady.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. Upon the bench beside me. Q. Unless within their gardens and their fields. and all its sins. It is not so. as it is most often in this world. for they were not of this world. and not the one family. for their pleasure. of both sexes. I do not. Saw you no married couples. 'tis what they seemed. such as I know. others with strange gardens upon their roofs. while this your aerial journey lasted? A. the women upon the left. the men upon the right. castles in Spain. If it were. and II this separation to be seen in all else beside. Q. How know you their doors and roofs and roads were gold? A. No. no markets? A. In one place there were many gathered. that I could see. http://www. With walls of white. yet did they sit most strict divided. whatever it may be? A. until I leant my head upon her shoulder as I watched. In what manner were these their houses built . Saw you none working? like great cheeses. A. mistress? A. and others for women alone. and roofed and doored in gold. Q. so to say it was decreed they must be apart there. The flesh. Not children of the flesh. June Eternal could not be. there. in June Eternal. Q. most smooth. Q.

Or what thou'dst have Heaven to be. A. let alone they of many mixed. and not of this world. in a meadow of grass and flowers. was no sign of war. no Did you not say. neither. such as gaols or those in chains. Not as it is with us. that none might sin. 'twas plain all were content to be of a sameness in their circumstance.processtext. Enough of it. you saw none working? What is this else? A. For then was I too in my this world's mind. I saw men and women mowing and cocking. Yet did I mark that all these were dressed unlike all others there. Yes. when even they of one nation cannot do so here below. as I Q. They worked not as we. in robes and gowns of many hues. each man and woman's heart cased in iron by their greed and their vanity. in others. this was very Heaven itself. Q. mistress.html Q. I saw but passing outward of this world. Thee must hear. The rule of the common mob. A. that knows all where we know nothing. I would have what you saw. no cripples. and must doubt myself. Q. Page 244 . For now we flew lower and lower. but life eternal. What made you of this phantasmatick city you was shown. more close to this blessed land of June Eternal. Q. and most unlike in their seeming peace and prosperity. it is Christian justice. and the two men that waited beneath the tree were robed in white. A. I smell it in thee. And behind them. to show some did not agree with this. nor destruction. Q. http://www. as upon a haymaking. or did evil. nor cruelty. though I saw it not at the first. and children. and came so to rest upon the ground. Its dwellers like us in some appearances. unlike. That it was whence she came. Q. and forced thereby to act and live for themselves alone. at the meadow's end. not one who starved. two men and a woman to greet us. Where stood about a tree three waiting. For there. that none might be without. I know not democracy.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. master Ayscough. nor any sign else. No. A. and wonder men and women should live in such accord and harmony. Was she warm of body? A. as they were chaste. I'll not blame thee. Nor saw I those who here parade more rich and magnificent. For also saw I no poor. call it how you will. no beggars. not what your rebellious new-found democracy now puts upon it. I say enough. and must be punished and prevented. 'Tis true. nor envy neither. A. That is not the same. I tell thee. Thee must doubt. Q. and the woman beside in white. Yet saw I not soldiers nor guards. albeit you dreamed? A. but some finer one.

when he saw I looked to him. Q. or played with the children. no dream. doth it not make proof certain you dreamed? A. Now he the younger I called carpenter then. sat he near a lady. http://www. And no dream that I too did seem to walk there. he came fresh from the mowing. There was a more wonder yet. Then did I see that these two men whitegowned beneath the tree were those same two. to me. 'Twas he would the rather watch how I was struck by all. Then of a sudden she leant forward and kissed me with her lips upon mine. I know alone that he did smile. or disbelieving? A. yea. yet now worked not. at this moment that I say. Behold this. Which did the so confuse me I must look back to her behind me as we sat. 'Tis all I may give. tho' she appeared also outside the window. what of his Lordship? Did you not observe how he watched this vision through thy window? Seemed he possessed by it. than watch the all himself. Q. I thought not of him. not as we? A. upon the meadow. How did he smile? Page 245 . They worked because they would. while she waits to hear its answer. who had pointed above. In all this. but at me. as in a theatre. and showed with his hand toward the window. and lo. neither brown nor yellow. That they sang and rejoiced. who was lord of all he surveyed. And this beside me now smiled on me as a sister might. Which gesture did most plainly say. they were as oranges. so to declare. I should not fear what I saw in the window. in her gown of white. And he had the air of one both most gentle and most wise. That she did appear in the two places at once. in purest love. Q. by some great miracle it was she I thought. and the older man bore a white beard and stood with in his hand a staff of wood. Clear proof to thee. Before. whose hand yet lay in mine. in belief of it. Q. He seemed of what nation. I had seen before. Doth this not suggest he had seen it before . of my flesh and blood. he stood with a scythe upon his shoulder. upon some riddle placed. and some not me. beneath its leaves and fruit.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. A. and different garbed. How knew you this? A. Q. in that night at the temple. Of all nations. this aged man? A. the young and the old. not that they must. nor of Dick. How.that you were brought before what he knew already? A. for the woman that waited through the window was she I rested beside upon the bench within the maggot. as it passed. Q. that she both might hold me and stand where I saw her outside. and the least. yet must all look to him as their father and their master. neither blackamoor nor white. even as she might tease. beside the old man beneath the tree. This is not answer enough. bright among the green above his head. that sat tnere still. so to say. in the shadow of this tree. Q. and his Lordship looked then not through the window. who now did reach his hand to make her come closer.html Q. I did once look to where they sat across the chamber. she is mine.

Yet he smiled as he slept. What others. 'Tis not as people say. that yet I had heard when I was small. they were of one family. it seemed no ordinary passing of time. What. for my nose smelt the flowers about us. one of olden times. tho' strewn with flowers as one dead.processtext. And yea. the man of men: our Lord Jesus Christ. undeserving sinner I may be. more simple present. Then was it as I walked in Paradise. with his scythe beside him. most certain. and she also of a smiting likeness.html A. Return to this meadow. truth may come in one second. a whisper. and the haymakers likewise. within the presence of the Father Page 246 . out of this cruel world and all its evil. Yea. as one might to a child. it seemed I did walk upon it. and the sweet mown grass. that I knew who these three truly were. A. how should I expect myself worthy of this? But now came the strangest. for which now I conceived I was about to be forgiven. yet was resurrected. Then too was I not a great sinner. when it was but a trembling. which I did crave with all my soul. I could not. As he had never smiled to me before. Then did I see the old man raise an arm and pluck a fruit hung on a branch above his head. The air seemed such. it may come more slow. I knew no shadow in my soul. where I must look. Q. Thee may mock. Q. Yea.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and so 'twas for me. These two men were one. and held for me to take as I came. There is no true spirit in image. and she took it from him. Q. Not as that great grace it was. of one far more slow. that he held out to she the mother. I speak of it to thee more plain now than it was to me at this first. never to think so of divinity. He did watch as one 'mazed. I speak now what I did not see till after. Speak on. Master Ayscough. and upon the face of he who pointed was that selfsame smile. of what was to come. in life eternal and happiness everlasting. thee may mock. Alas. like to the motions of a dream. Then it was when first some tongue. And Dick. Very well. you are in Heaven now? From whore you are grown saint? Q. who died for us. that she must watch to understand. like to myself. A. I must doubt all the most strange circumstance in which this had place. For the Friends say. that I might eat. throstles and larks their happy babble. as in bodies or breathing persons. tho' my parents brooked no music in their faith. out of my own most miserable sins and vanity. I must mock myself. Thee must know I was brought up Quaker. a suspicion. there was I brought certain. and I heard the birds sing. and it came to me that he who stood with the scythe was son to the aged man. and there hidden was laid his twin. I tell thee. for he with the scythe pointed to the uncut grass beside him. all was light. that I was so slow. I know not. might see in a trice. the saints. I do not. Q. and as I went towards these three. How did they sing? Heard you words. had you heard the air before? A. Still I was as thee. http://www. did stir in my mind. As I say. I will hide no more. ten thousand times yea. it seemed to me my ears had heard it. the only one. what of him? A. some utmost joyous tongue. Q. it seemed asleep upon his back. Do you recall it still? A. I walked in a sea of light. Yet tho' l would hasten my step to take it. and no image can be of the true spirit. but of their spirit alone and their light inside of me. I saw in confusion.

of pistol and musket and fearsome cannon. that takes up all that Christ the Saviour promised. no not nothing of what had been. and shall be my mistress alway. Yea. Her kingdom shall come to be. and the groans of the dying intermingled. but there was I their simplicity's fool. tho' they stood simple as two labourers in the field. yea darkest night. 'Tis writ clear in the Book of Genesis that Eve came of Adam's seventh rib. wherein lies the truth of those three women grown one I saw first appear. and Christ's also. to take that fruit Holy Mother Wisdom did there offer toward me. most bitter after sweet. And now was alone. She is Holy Mother Wisdom. http://www.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. I did run in the heavenly meadow. I cannot tell thee all its gashly deeds and cruelty. and the sound thereof about us. there was I fool most. lo. this is rank blasphemy. all great darkness. The Holy Mother. blood and the cannons' smoke. Q. Holy Mother Wisdom. What. And this beside. A. whom some would call the Holy Spirit. None so sinful they may not be saved. Amen. like to some fellow trollop in thy bagnio? Didst thou not put it so? A. and her mercy. What next? A. Speak now . Then was there light again. I had believed it almost within my hands. I am witness. a field where men fought like tigers. You were still in the maggot s chamber? This battle you were shown was seen through the window. you would say? The Virgin Mary? A. that still I did not know she against whose shoulder I lay. 'tis she the bearing spirit of God's will. and blindest. for it was of most desperate battle.html and the Son. I knew her not in my blindness. Yea. alas. no other to leave. No woman.who was this woman? A. nay. this _magna creatrix__. nor heard nor felt. Q. but on such a scene I pray I may never see twice. 'Twas loving kindness. Most terrible. She without whom God the Father could not have made His works. That is both His mother and His widow. for the battle did seem so close its soldiers must break in upon the maggot's chamber where we sat. tho' I had seen. Enough of thy possibilities. Yes. Nor was Eden born. in great horror at this change. worse than Page 247 . What next in the cavern? A. greater than the greatest lady.processtext. and far sooner than this wicked world allows. were Holy Mother Wisdom not there at the first with God the Father. and this great mother. to seek her solace. Q. A greater even. 'twas they. Else should I have been on my knees before her. And thee forget. and I alone in it. of oaths and cries. Then would I turn my face to Holy Mother Wisdom. thee are not born. doth hold thee in her arms. No more of riddles. nor what terror I felt. she was not there. Q. Were thee not born also of a mother? Thee's nothing without her. and one with Him from the beginning. Q. Then witness. and His daughter beside. but queen of queens. nor his Lordship nor Dick. nor Adam nor Eve. and found greater horror still. woman. of clashing iron. She is that which liveth always. master. an end to thy new-making sacred truth. thy preaching-prophesying. Of a sudden all was dark. Q. as before? A.

not all. the more are we doomed. You were not mistaken . that flew as hornets in a rage. I did spring from where I sat and ran to the window to succour. And else.were they in appearance of this world? A. not all of battle. as I was before I sinned.processtext. and all shall end in fire. and the cruelty of man more savage than the wildest beasts. never saw I Antichrist so clear. But stranger black marvels still: great carriages that bore cannon within. the eyes narrow. dear God I could not break it. Q. of murther and I should have died a hundred times to reach her. Yet do I know all its seeds may be found in ours. All meted upon innocents. Man is evil not by himself alone. Of many. tho' the poor child was burning there not three feet from me and cried and wept most piteously. 'Tis not to be told. I doubt it was this world. but not that such a world may be. and it rent my heart not one there did take notice of her agony. It was more than this scene of battle? A. This is what you told Jones. I would e'en weep now for how she reached her hands for help. as cruel also. upon pots and the like. and I so close. there was a girl-child of fourteen years run from a house put to fire by soldiers. The one larger. Unless it were Cathay. d would I could have torn them limb from limb.why. is it not so? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. http://www. They were not of this world? A. Yea. a thousand times worse upon his own than their worst upon him. what seemed three moons that shone upon a scene of carnage. there was no love. like 'twas said London did look the morrow of the Great Fire. Q. I ask again. for their faces were such they portray of Chinamen. most swift and roaring winged lions. tho' I had been ten thousand leagues apart for all I could avail. This and thy other cruel visions . most sorely burnt therein. and went faster than the fastest horse. I tell thee. all below. Too like this world. made hurricane and earthquake where they rose. Recognized you face or place of this world among them? A. whole cities laid to ruin. her clothes aflame. nay. Page 248 . for I saw myself in her. And you as one burnt in a sea of flames. so she was blind. Yet twice I saw beyond the window. the which did drop great grenadoes upon their enemy and made untold destruction upon them . and nothing to end it. Q. pain. all cruelty. of each foul crime and sin: of torture. tho' with different cause and circumstance to it? A. of the slaughter of innocents. Q. great towers of smoke and flame that burn. for she came toward me. and each scene worse than the last. nay. visions so dire they make this world we live in seem kind by the comparison. I see her still. I told some.three moons? A.html alone. 'tis by will of Antichrist. the two other smaller. Q. Q. there was I forced to watch more evil and cruelty than I had known possible. and made all more dreadful by their light. killing. Q. yet stayed the glass stronger than a stone wall between us. save to mock and laugh at it. but oh my soul in vain. too like. upon women and children. locked in most awful prison with Antichrist for boon companion. alas all we lack are their devilish arts and ingenuity to be the same. The longer he rules. more yellow skinned than we.

A He destroyed the Cities of the Plain. did she riot appear? Page 249 . that in mercy hid all behind. I was before the window. I knew such joy I must sleep on it. as a brother might. Thy gossip Holy Mother Wisdom. to think it. Must sleep? Who not doting idiot should sleep at such a juncture? A. I shall not forget thee either. 'Twill not fit thy alphabet. Q. Did he not give thee some potion also? A. Q. Q. How may such a world be truth? That some are cruel and unjust. and 'twas as if his face was become one with He I had seen in the meadow in June Eternal. Thou art like all thy kind. that willed me with his love to rest. Q. their silken smock and trowse. Was there nothing but doom through thy window? A. Rebecca. thy crowning piece? His Lordship grows the Lord of All. all cruel. Therefore without God. He did not harm. no more.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q.processtext. no wig beside. ever thou'dst credit the worst most. Still did he stare into my eyes. and lifted me to carry to the bench. that all are so. for their sins and false idols. All cruel. woman. 'Twas so a loving husband. forget me not. and silence. it may be. and did. I'll grant thee that. http://www. at that did kiss me soft upon the brow. yet most strange. where he did lie me gentle on my back. They were few among many cities.html Q. save I must close my eyes upon that tender face above. At the far end I espied his Lordship. Those that worshipped truly. I first did not know him. that does forgive all sins. Shame on thee. return to thy well-called maggot. Is it this. Q. That of his eyes. I would watch no more . and to all despair bring peace. Yet he did look upon my face and sadness with kind pity. he said. so be it. whereon I sank in despair upon the chamber's floor. that our souls might join. A. Now of a sudden was there light within the chamber. the burning of that innocent girl. A Christian God would not allow it to pass thus.nor could. Yet so was it not to me. But enough. the Redeemer? A. I must see her die before my eyes. Q. Forget me not. for he wore as those from June Eternal wore. for there came a great fog upon the window's glass. Was it not more than your souls that joined? A. 'tis neither true nor seen. and came to where I lay. then stooped close above my face and stared into my eyes with a loving care and tenderness such I had never known in all my dealings with him. but relief of it. 'Twas a prophecy. so to say he brought no more tidings of suffering. so may this world become. I cannot tell. and believed His Word. mistress.

both the living and the dead. Deny what I am become. in Heaven again? A. Q. Thee may say. or what little it had thou hast maliciously nursed and let grow inside thee like that worm in thy womb. still the harlot.thou wert practised upon. I tell thee I did feel it more cruel than all that other cruelty I had seen. my soul cast naked back in this present world. but a sore bed to lie upon. my soul is wiser now. nor out. http://www. Gone. she was departed and I most sore bereft. and would believe myself still where d had slumbered. was cold and stiff beside. Enough. where I had slept so sweet. 'Twas he alone. and knew certain I had not dreamed. of worse than my clothes. When I made at last to leave. No.html A. the cavern's ground where first we came. I knelt there on the stone and prayed I might be taken back. No. as thee'd believe. and most sweet rested. And searched not to see if his Lordship might lie there? Page 250 . to me it matters not. I smelled the sweet summer fragrance of June Eternal. Small. and 'he beside. Enough of thy soul.processtext. every stitch. Then in a rush. then knew it no dream. that still lingered faint upon the damp cavern air. that lay still where he had thrown it. None of this had substance outside thy woman's head. The maggot was gone? A. And misery. There was sign. My tears did flow. Did you not search within the cavern? May his Lordship not have been asleep in some corner. at first so she had come in a dream. Q. Q. Q. Yea. for all my May-queen clothes was gone. and their haymakers saints and angels. of those three figures in the meadow. nor Dick neither. I might see. which only now I saw what they had been. 'Tis thy own soul shall rue the day. Too soon it came upon me I had suffered some great loss.was there light to see within the cavern? A. but lived. I was vain still. A. Q. No matter. so a tumble of autumn leaves. my foot did stumble on his Lordship's sword. tho' l knew it not at the once. Did you not pick it up? A. Such an engine could never pass within. nor to Christ's truth. nor did I forget he who had brought me to this holy knowledge. do what thee will.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. And where didst wake. came further memory. Poor fool. Next I did mind me of Holy Mother Wisdom. As I thought . one scorned and rejected. Q. as yourself? Was there no sign? A. that had failed a great test upon me. No Heaven. I thought only of myself. our Father and His Son. to think such had come and gone from me before I knew them truly.

they may not be turned by their conscience alone. it is grown late. and did. Q. Downright lies or unchaste parables. like ships. Argue more. nor will I have you this night conspiring with your man to make more parables still. I cannot. and thank Heaven for my mercy. Thee's no right. Q. I tell thee truth. to escape his design. All Holy Mother Wisdom stole was my sinning past. You shall sleep beneath this roof. A. http://www. You say. And most egregiously lied. in the chamber where you dined. and sleep on lousy straw. who will watch you close as any turnkey. mistress. ' Q. save that I am. I must make service of my wits. so soon as Jones came up with you? A. Cease thy impudence. but I am not done with you. How know you this. He was gone. she would send me back with new clothes for my soul. for I wear them still. and ever shall.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. 'Tis to my father and my husband thee must tell that. it is clear? And shall speak to no man unless my clerk. to escape mine. which thee won't have. he was brought to your June Eternal? A. He made it plain he would use me still. I might have thee flung into the town gaol. Be gone with thee. and I know not how. till I meet her again. nor Christian light. and least in God's eyes. like common thieves? A. Q. Within where I last saw him. in mine I can. I came out new-born from her spirit's womb. I was. did you not. A. Q. mistress. A. Page 251 .html A. That was no theft. he is returned. What that these your holy visions had stripped you of your clothes. Can you deny that he may have left some otherwise than in your engine? A. Some are born broad and heavy. Q. I know they wait. and do. As thou dost now. thou shalt see. and I would not be used. where thou'dst sup on a crust and water.processtext. Thou dost not merit it. it is all one. How gone? A. Now. Q. in thy alphabet. In this thee's great proof theeself I must lie to be believed. Q. Not brought. Q. were you not asleep? A. 'Twas not to spite him.

then bowed and left the room again. as is his two companions'. three younger. thirteen pairs of hands rose in prayer to their breasts. Below the window. but the square was far less busy than it had been that morning.html TEN MINUTES later three men stand stiffly across the room from Mr Ayscough. and all dressed as Rebecca had been. but now behind and beside them stood ten others. It was a statement. Ayscough had stared down at these pillars of righteousness for a few moments. He was made out. http://www. and as implacable. The clerk had looked surprised at what was It is clear they are a deputation of protest. One thing in it had not diminished. were it not for this quasi-uniform. not a solicitation. as if to venture further might risk infection of some kind. it seemed crossly and curtly. three elderly. as earlier that day. and as clear that the lawyer has changed his mind as to Rebecca's impudence. of hostile or threatening gestures. close by the door through which they have entered. and in a ragged but rapid sequence. on the facing street-corner. The prayer was not offered. of whom six were women. despite the lack of cries. When she had left with her turnkey he had. yet has visibly the most authority. indecipherable paper together.processtext. but said nothing. however. The group showed nothing but solemn. who is the shortest. that with which he had locked Rebecca in. and dusk had hardly begun. that Page 252 . long and straight. His hair is grey and. an obscure challenge. and even more in the way that all thirteen pairs of eyes seemed fixed on one point only: the window where Ayscough had appeared. as sombre as the Erinnyes. still stood those same three male figures. then withdrawn in both senses of the word. his face worn and lined. One might have assumed it a group chancegathered. The middle of the three men is the tailor James Wardley. intent faces.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. who silently showed a large key in his hand. Suddenly Ayscough had spoken. to face his returned clerk. preparatory to a start upon its laborious transcription. walked to the window. The sun had only just set. He went to his desk and started to sort his sheets of scrawled.

however much we force it to be the reverse. a ridden beast. but as a tool or a beast is. He wears a dark brown coat and breeches. as if for a fight. of how locked away they are from conventional society. To speak so is anachronistic. his is bold. almost but not quite am. before the real now. a child. and unconsciously show that feature common to all members of extremist sects. He looks a humourless plain-dealer. Wardley is what he is by cantankerousness and love of argument. conveniently forgets how completely untypical artistic genius is of most human beings of any age. had some miracle brought him national power instead of the mere leadership of an obscure and provincial sect. to shut out all side-light. he is self-gulled. and even less to consider whether. These various defects in his partners made Rebecca's father. locked inside that weird tense grammar does not allow. far happier out of alive. but even in this he is to himself but a tool. not least the present one) he is baffled. but the retrospective habit we have of remembering and assessing a past age by its popes. ergo sum. the carpenter Hocknell. He seems. even aggressive. He has none of Wardley's comparatively emancipated. Like so many of his class at this time. active and quasi-political mind. did he not wear steel-framed spectacles. far stupider even than he. who means not to give an inch. Unlike Wardley he stares at the floor between the little lawyer and himself. he still lacks what even the least intelligent human today. Rebecca's melancholy husband is in truth no more than an ignorant mystic. His prophecies may predict such a change. the Page 253 . Rebecca's husband stands gaunt as ever and visibly ill at ease. or would have done so. to be acted for or against.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and his hands by his side are clenched. John Lee is. despite his prophetic enthusiasm. and so does he hear of and comprehend the living outside world around him . You would never have got the tailor to admit that the tenets of the French Prophets were simply convenient to his real nature and its enjoyment.html of a man older than his fifty years. would recognize .not as something to be approved of or disapproved. to know it exists.far less a potential rebel than a mournful outsider involved by of countless seventeenth-century quarrellers. If Wardley's stare is steady. however small. in a world so entirely pre-ordained it might be written. But Rebecca's father is another matter. Neither he nor the other two have removed their Quaker hats. forced to consort with more normal human beings: an awareness. He laboriously reads the Bible. http://www. and is as determined in face as his son-in-law seems at a loss. its Addisons and Steeles. an inalienably fixed narrative. To be sure the intelligentsia of John Lee's time had a clear. he is not a true French Prophet only in as much as his eternal nature. he would not have been quite as grim a tyrant as the man his sinister spectacles vaguely foreshadowed. both defiant and embarrassed. They bear peculiar pieces of dark glass on their arms. in a narrative past or a prophetic future. and seems of Wardley's age: a unmistakable sense of personal identity set in a world to some degree. Like all mystics (and many novelists. John Lee would not have understood Cogito. his belief that a man's actions may change the world. distinctly awed by this formal present . manipulable or controllable by that sweet is bile . and this apparatus gives an abiding impression of myopic but intent malevolence. Robespierre.then to dispatch them to future damnation. who has picked up the language of prophetic visions and yet is sure his utterances come by divine inspiration: that is. not that he lacks faith in his beliefs and visions. or innocently self-believing. square-set man. but above all he enjoys that part of their exposition and defence which allows him to mock his enemies' illogic (not least their smug contentment in a grossly unjust world) and also . and far less its even terser modern equivalent-. of course. the imaginary present.processtext. its Johnsons. in the past . One might almost believe he had not wished to be present. In him the spirit of Tom Paine . The contemporary I does not need to think. but as it simply is. which is as it always would or must be. non-conforming and uncomfortable. has found very different outlets in the course of history. sense of self. for the eyes behind the very small lenses do not shift their gaze from the lawyer's. whether political or religious. like this book.

Rebecca had feared his reaction most when she returned. not for nothing did the medieval church fight so long to keep it out of the vulgar tongues of Europe. She was then brought straight into his presence by her mother's hand. or believed. not hidden by vain ornament from what it truly was. short-tempered man in many things. and adamant for his rights. Nor did the carpenter forget the trade Christ's worldly father followed. and was in This marked tendency in Dissent towards severity of ornament. He was at work in a new-built house. but counted it all devil's work.kill in his hands. grossly obvious beneath its unseemly and excessive ornament. of course. hanging a door. and gained it . Father.or rather. from Puritan doctrine. he had lost control of it. well built. well fitted to its function.html most straightforward and in many ways the most typical of the three. and unaware of them. fine carriages and a thousand other things that hid or travestied or ignored the fundamental truths and elementary injustices of existence he had no time at all. What mattered to him was that a thing. of course. came in the beginning. The carpenter hoped rather than firmly believed Christ's second coming was near. who seemingly had a close speaking and seeing acquaintance with the Apostles and various Old Testament figures. It ought to be true. perilously close to the sin of vanity. He was a much more practical man than either Wardley or John Lee. was English society itself. over-carved mantels. For fine houses. The next moment she was snatched into his burly arms. it was virtuous. fine clothes. the . and regarded most as he regarded ornament in his sister trades of joinery and cabinet-making superfluous. should be plain. as if she were the Devil incarnate.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. that it must be true because it ought to be true. elaboration. good workmanship. What did not fit these homely precepts taken from his trade was evil or ungodly. The metaphors he used in his own prophecies tended very much to this kind of imagery. Most strangely his face began to work beneath its terrible stare. He had turned. useless luxury and all the rest). They had included the patriarchal right to command his daughters' lives and expel the one who had lapsed so flagrantly. and given her the most terrible stare. which the carpenter saw rather as substantial and precious pieces of seasoned timber left abandoned in a yard than as a fixed structure or house. http://www. and transparently sinful in God's eyes. but not among those like Hocknell. and into a tide of mutual sobs stemming from a much older human tradition than that of Dissent. gained it if her father would allow. or as he saw them. the present house was rotten and must fall. a good carpenter. Of ideas in themselves he took little account. sobriety of taste (at the expense :)f fancy. while far better materials lay to hand. His principal truth was the truth of Christ. Both his religion and his politics were ruled by one thing. about a hinge. Plain carpentry had become a religious template with him. Aesthetic justness had become moral justice. an opinion. until Rebecca spoke the one word. She had fallen to her knees and bowed her head. They were there to be properly used and built by such as him. whatever it might be. and the most satanically unvirtuous piece of work of all. why are they not in human sight? No degree of theological obfuscation or selective quotation justifying the Caesars of this world can answer that.processtext. Page 254 . Hocknell was not such a bigot he refused to fit ornamental wall-cases. an idea. If all are equal in Christ's sight. His prophecies were plain beside those of his son-in-law. this stress on structural solidity. She had had the sense to seek her mother's forgiveness first. on demand. The aesthetic of a society of God-fearing Sobersides had by the 1730s (or ever since 1660) largely been brought into contempt and discredit by the rich and educated. a man's way of life. and as regards entry qualifications for Heaven. simple was not only beautiful. like so many Christians before and after him. and indeed drew a fierce pride from the parallel. well pinned and morticed. because the Gospel may very easily be read as a political document. and so did he judge much else besides the working of wood. and above all. exact to its purpose. on his knees. In ordinary terms he was a touchy.

then the aping middleclass. He oins his hands beneath his open coat at the back. meiosis. and they do so. She does not move to greet the distorted speech in the gift of tongues. with the sardonic scribe behind them. brother Wardley. Mr Ayscough leading. and manages to suggest by his expression that he is being very improperly put upon. more characters written by someone else than free individuals in our comprehension of the adjective and the noun. I am obliged. a sense of self barely exists. We may talk coolly now in psychiatric terms of the hysterical enthusiasm.' 'Hast thee asked counsel of Jesus Christ?' 'He says. but does not turn. once again. tries to sweep.html Yet surrender to attacks of intense emotion was an essential part of both its being and its practice. http://www. both of soul and of body?' 'No.or more exactly. Mr Ayscough walks from his table and sweeps past the three by the door . At any rate he does not look at the three faces of Dissent. nor they she. cynicism and the stiff upper lip to keep it at bay. the sobbing. which dreads natural feeling (what other language speaks of _attacks__ of emotion?) and has made such an art of sangfroid. this person would have thee rest here this night.processtext. and stares out at the now dusk-filled yard. He goes to the window. The clerk gestures the trio to follow s master's back.' 'I am obliged in conscience. or most often where it does. against thy will. 'Sister. We should do better to imagine a world where. where most are still like John Lee. I have not. Thee be not charged.' 'Hath this man not wickedly tried to break thee of thy faith?' Page 255 .' 'He hath no right in law. all the other wild phenomena found in so much early Dissenting worship. since he is shorter even than Wardley.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.' 'It is not against my will. and evidently surprised by this solemn delegation. as if hastily risen from it. and there is a moment or two of that awkward suspension characteristic of such meetings . Rebecca stands by the bed. The five men file into the room over the inn yard. and can no more truly sweep than a bantamcockerel could pretend to be the old English gamecock of the inn backyard.' 'Hast thee not been ill treated in respect of thy state. is repressed. perhaps not least because it stood so deeply against the aristocratic. and now the universal English tradition in such matters.

sir.processtext. you shall not. brother. ye stand witnesses to this.' 'I have. I do her no ill. brother. steps forward and reaches for the arm nearest him. and nothing but Christ's truth. devil. are you not done?' 'We shall pray with her. They have no right to forbid prayer. clamping it as in a vice. or thee shall suffer after?' 'No. I gave no right to hold a praying meeting also. that of Rebecca's and shall. brother. 'You may pray for her. Prayer is called impertinent. and turns back to face the room. sister. and sharply.html 'No.' 'Hath he not told thee thee must say these things. Speak truth entire.' 'We would pray with thee.' 'Be not afraid if he would taunt or corrupt or howsoever force thee from the light. who stands behind the three men. http://www. 'Thee's sure that what thee dost is best in Christ?' 'Most sure.' Wardley puts a hand on Hocknell's other arm. sister. but his touch is as if scalding. You have had the right to question her on what is pertinent. 'Still thy righteous anger.' 'Thee art sure?' 'Yes. to encourage him to turn and go..' 'Friends.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. 'Touch me not. Mr Ayscough still stares down into the yard. You have her word. They shall be judged hereafter' Hocknell looks for a few moments little inclined to obey. Tis tyranny.' The clerk. then forces it down and stares fiercely at the clerk..' Wardley is clearly set back by this calmness. but not with her.' But now Ayscough turns. at last throws down the clerk's wrist. for Hocknell twists round and catches his wrist.' 'We are among infidels. one may suspect it is now partly to hide his face.' Page 256 . thee .' No. I am sure.

’ Her eyes watch her father's still angry ones. 'I am thy daughter in all. She stands again. He does not look appeased. It is a strange beyond her willing. not of a kind she has actively earned. much more fully than before. perhaps a simple answer to the question of why she knows him. that seems almost one between strangers. now. a last echo of her former life. Her husband stares at the floor between them. up at the ceiling. suddenly. more than ever as if he wished he were not there. does not kiss them. Her eyes stay open. but he does not know her. The door once closed. She turns and takes both his hands. and searches for something in her steady eyes. husband. before turning to the bed. or should. Her hands begin to feel her still only slightly swollen belly. but of one she has been given. father. I shall not be bent again. despite their joined hands. 'I pray thee. Mr Ayscough had seemed largely indifferent until this point.' And that is all. a kind of simplicity. lets her head sink back and smiles. Mr Ayscough is left alone with Rebecca. without further word. Yet there is no hint of this when it comes to her husband.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and she cranes up for a moment to look down at it. a levelheadedness. no indication of a response to the awkward stiffness of her three brothers in Christ. at this late stage of his life. there is the sound of a key being turned in a lock. She smiles in fact because Christ's grace has just granted her her first prophecy: the child Page 257 . Fear not. then meekly down. a glimpse of something he has never recognized before: a lightness. and still watching her. They go.' She pauses.html Hocknell looks across at his daughter. and so unplaceable by him. and the clerk follows. and their sex also. and lies on the bed. for the way their faith had deformed them.' She picks up her father's hand and raises it to her lips. http://www. Rebecca listens as his footsteps die away. Christ’s spirit be with thee. 'Speak truth. now he might be seen watching Rebecca closely. strange in its innocence. Now she comes in front of her father. They regard the face before them with its innate meekness. I am Christ's daughter also. kneel. and her mouth does not move. For some moments he goes on watching her. affection. almost a judging of them. A sceptic or an atheist might have suspected a contempt for them. plainly doubting whether a woman can. in which he would have been wrong. She glances almost shily back at him. sister. there seems some hidden allusion to a past event. He is like a man shown. while Wardley stares beyond her into a middle distance. decide such a matter. in the silence that follows this abrupt paternal command. It shows no vanity or pride. is simply now in. and smiles.' 'Yea. Instead they exchange a look. and kneeling. no sense that she has handled a situation well.' Rebecca does not move. he leaves. ‘More love. or his face. the faint smile.' Still the three stand. Rebecca shares one thing with her husband besides a general faith: she too has a very indistinct sense of what defines and is common to every modern ego. not contempt.processtext. 'More love. and in no way doubted the substance of the faith. some previous taming of his rancorous temper. 'Daughter. It is Wardley who breaks the impasse. since they feel it below their dignity to kneel before she does. brother. She felt pity. go in peace. It seems much more a reflection of some deep inner certainty. then adds. a thousand miles from solid timber and moral judgements by setsquare. and that has also something other. and nor now do the men.

by the grace of God King of Great Britain and of England. Page 258 .html inside her will be a girl. Her smile is not that of such a personal knowledge. The Examination and Deposition of _James Wardley __the which doth witness but will not swear. and completely misunderstand what she this fourth day of October in the tenth year of the reign of our sovereign Lord George the second. an annunciation. It is the smile of one who has heard. &c. is now written by. http://www. We should say today she has discovered she would like it so.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and delight in it.processtext.

to count souls like a miser his guineas. he cannot see the kingdom of it not sacred truth. I wish to ascertain only some facts. Draw you this doctrine from the Bible? A. shall be saved. and infallible? Page 259 . They to be damned are all those who do not follow you? A. The Book is good witness. Now. my business with you is brief. and that Jesus Christ returns. Q. So say we. That whosoever shall show that faith in Him. I will not dispute with you over your beliefs. and come not nigh. I am tailor by trade. and hear not the Lord's word. Q. I was born in the year of 168 5. your meeting. Except a man be born again. She is one you count of your flock. Q. great I. Until the Friends first came. that this world is near its end by cause of its sins. http://www. We live in fellowship. revealed by grace of prophecy. All else are possessed of the Devil's great I. I teach truth. She is sister. and nor doth God. Go off. nor war the flesh and put a cross upon sin. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. as he should. as the Calvinists? A. I am married. and live by His light. And all else shall be eternally damned. at Bolton on the Moor in this county. this hundred years past. Q. You say all religion since then is Antichrist? A.html MY NAME is James Wardley. and believes what I believe. once more to redeem it. How not all .com/abclit. I am no bishop nor vicar. All those that follow Antichrist. if he so choose. Believe you not in predestination. is it not so? A. and much wisdom. the hour is late. Q. You teach the doctrine of the French Prophets. Q. that touch upon Rebecca Lee. what you may call it? A. that has ruled since the first church of the Apostles ended. So say we. Wardley. Q.processtext. What is false in it? A. yet is not all. It saith man may not change in the living Christ. Nay.

Nay. 'Tis but words. and soon shall come among us. of those who have the light or not. We say 'twas writ by good and holy men. but of all who have declared themselves French prophets? A. You have heard it so called? A. What of Holy Mother Wisdom? A. who were guilty both and equally. Q. Q. He lives. I am told. This last I ask . who liveth in Page 260 . the life everlasting. What blasphemy lies in that? The first and greatest sin of all was the fornication of Adam and Eve. Q. Both may be in Jesus Christ's likeness. Q. All flesh is corrupt. http://www. for that is to say. and woman no part of it. This comes not of you alone.processtext. they lied not by their lights. and do our best to live. brought from Heaven? A. and shall. Q. He now is dead. Thee may judge. That it is all male.html A. tho' it be in secret. The spirit alone is resurrected. Nor Heaven. Q. You forswear all carnal pleasure? A. we will not credit. Do you not so call the Holy Spirit? A. is it not so you blasphemously proclaim? A. Thee may solicit John Lacy. This world's present state doth answer thee. Thomas Eames that be gone to the Lord nigh these thirty years past. He sees What frees us of his chains is chastity. The Lord was never beholden to letters. Who is she? Q. naught else. Christ is no secret. The carnal nature is mansion of Antichrist. so the sinners may sin in the more peace.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. 'tis no more June than any other month. Thee may read of Misson and Elias Marion. A. which is vile heresy put about by Antichrist. master. Q. Heaven hath no special season. may be saved both. that are fallible in their season. not certain truth. it had not been as it is. Had He been seen. So say we. called June Eternal? A. Q. Sir Richard Bulkeley likewise. and may save both. there will we not enter.doth by your faith the flesh of true believers survive death? A. in some things. Q. Christ may come again in the form of woman. nor the Book his last testament. all blindness and corruption. you have no belief in the Holy Trinity. Man and woman that sprang from their loins. Thee's been sold more rotten eggs than good. I deny thee. Believe you He may be seen now in this world. Such were of their understanding then. He is not dead.

I treat not Christ's enemy as no business of mine. if he will but wear chains. praise the Lord. but with this difference. for Jesus Christ my master's sake. Q. for Christ's word I must fight. I must deny him back. Q.were you not born one? A. If such a one deny me in matters of the spirit. But hope? A. http://www. You believe her sincere in repentance for her past life? A. I ask again . Q. I have spoken to it with my brethren. She is of our faith of her own conscience. Yes. O. who knows her better. To wit. this two years past? A. or her father's.that she was whore in London? A. to my present purpose. when the doom is done. for I have questioned her thereon. as they now have wont to do. not only yours? A.are you cognizant of her former life? A. she fits your beliefs.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Did you not quit the Quakers upon this matter of peace . And I will not. and my wife also. Know you of her past . Q. I might still go if I was silent. and shall die one.html this county till this day. You are persuaded Rebecca Lee doth believe as you. Were you not ejected by force from their meeting. Did they not ban you from their meeting-house here? A. Aye. Did you not say that civil authority was not to be borne by such as yourself. Q. Q. Jesus alone shall save. and hath witnessed to the truth far longer than I. She hath repented. I would prophesy His coming. a man may walk. Q. Q. It is not by her husband's will. and is fanatickal in them? A. he is old now of seventy-two years. that I know well. to please both or either? As is common in all religion. I was born a friend of truth. and we hope she shall be saved. No. I will not answer thee that. Q. Very well. I come in peace. what you called true Christians? And that civil authority was most signal instance of the sins for which this world is doomed? Page 261 . and they would not bear it nor hear it. most earnest for salvation. and my wife with our sistren. Such is to say. as these you have named? A.

if it were done. by God's will. you are too weak to bring it to success. also.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. Hast thee read _A Serious Call__? I will not judge he that wrote it. You maintain. I do not say all men of the established church are corrupt. when He began. Thee hast no proof for this. Men are of flesh. And in London some. as it shall be. A. The Protestant and established church of this kingdom is as evil and corrupted as that of Rome. Christ overturned. Christ had less. http://www. is it how you say? A. I say all churches are made of men. an evil man. The law demands obedience to the established church and its authority. is it not so? A. and some where I was born. yea. among those who are saved. when God's vengeance is done. Q. of the French Prophets?' A. We obey the civil law in all matters civil. Then shall there be peace and true respect among men. but that you should. Then you are not strong! A. Q. there shall be no civil rebellion. Page 262 .html A. Is not the reason you are not in seditious rebellion this. that is of thy church. This world shall be a better place when it is overturned? A. that are blind as mouldwarps to Christ's light. Should I be before thee if I believed other? Q. Some forty or fifty. I am told you would make all wealth and property to be shared commonly. There is no law against we will go sword in hand against sin. And when we are strong. Q. Many littles make a mickle. I did not say it was not to be obeyed in all else. We have good warrant. Q. master lawyer. William Law. in Bolton. A. I have prophesied it shall be so. unless it be in his conscience. and there is none. for all will see we live in Christ and shall join us. I said 'twas not to be borne when civil authority would make us do or swear against our conscience. Q. we hurt no man. Nay. You are how many here. and have likewise spoken so. And Rome was once the established church. I have not spoken it is to be done now. it would be a better world. We would make rebellion against sin. Aye. which is the soul's saving. Q. if you were stronger? A. Q. when it is done. Thee shan't snare me in thy cunning supposings. does it not? A.processtext. To bring riot and rebellion. he puts most others in it to shame. I maintain it shall be a better world. which is born corrupt.

Is this thy no disputing upon my beliefs? And much good may it do him.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Nay. Nay. he may drink. Q. She is meek. Just so were our forefathers made to fall into their errors and intolerance this century past. coined false as by any forger. How. and others. Hath the woman Lee prophesied at your meetings? A. if thee'd make an evil man. and lives now in Christ. But thee'll not qualm to hear the Word of Christ betrayed. Q. if he wear bands. You are certain? A. I will know this. Which is to say they are not fit for what they are. She hath not talked of any particular occasion to make her change her ways? A. and of history beside. Hath she spoken in any way. A. Q. Q. She is not yet moved to prophesy. and proclaim it. She hath not prophesied. Nay. She may be given the glorious tongue of the light. as my wife doth. You are damned of your own mouth. She is till now deficient in this? A. Q.html Q. Save she had grievous sinned and stood sore shent by her past life. This is plain invitation to rebellion against them. for which we pray. For lo. publicly or privately. That she may rant with the best of you? A. nor go to one of my trade that sewed ill. he may do what he will. nay. as she should be. or a blind. Q. or would live in Him. Q. Enough.processtext. by such an argument. and carry a dog's-tail of alphabet letters after his name. he may whore. of what brought her to her new piety? A. http://www. And thee of thine own. would live? Is she not persuaded yet? A. Nor place nor day? A. Q. Thee'd not buy thy meat off a bad butcher. if there were such an occasion? A. Is this your peace and respect among men? Mr Fotheringay shall hear of it. Nor of other persons present. fit to be what he is because he is what he is. Which comes by Christ's grace. Q. for he is fit. Nay. Thee may call the Devil good and fit. May it not be that she deceives you? Page 263 . Q. A.

they saw about them the greatest most of mankind live in misery. or given to all in need? A. Q. did Jesus Christ not give for thee. thee's found her. from their selfish vanity and greed. Now call us rebels if thee will. and call our giving most good and fellowly. A. Q. To pretend she is no longer what she was. I have a guinea upon me I was paid but yesterday for two coats I have made. Eyes to see she is well hid behind your coat-skirts. Do you not supply to their needs? A. What. I will not have it. and shall damn all who are so blind. as she did in thy Babylon? Q. did not. Not in such charity that goes to the nearest gin-shop. Look thee. And I'll tell thee why they said. Is rightful station to starve and go in rags? Why man. Here. for yea. Christ gave in compassion. neither. A. Page 264 . Is this charity particular. there is possibility she did great crime. Why should she feign to live so. thee should walk in the street where the sister lives. so she may one day live in Christ. Mayhap I'd best not redeem this man. Q. Q.html A. To all. in luxuriousness and lechery. Nor I thy guinea. thee call Him rebel also. When I may. And further. A. Thee's eyes. I see thee's a careful man. thee won't? Don't thee believe in charity. tho' at heart she remain so. in this miserable town. She has been sought many months. and her brothers and sisters in Christ also. So well hid. as bare stone are they poor. master? Q. and best mirror of Jesus Christ's true commonwealth. that yet starve and live worse than beggars. You grow insolent. worse than brutes. the soul's tabernacle must be decent fed and clothed before the light of truth may pierce to the soul itself. A. and I will give both in Toad Lane to those thee think in their rightful station. She and her husband are poor. She lives for Christ. Call us rebels. You give to suborn they who know no better from their rightful Nor tomorrow. Lay one of thine to it. he is weak. Why should she deceive? Q. A. A. they that had more than sufficient to clothe and feed themselves and theirs. he earns not enough for them to live by. I say. We are well matched. when she might live else. and provided for.processtext. we are rebels in this. and far more than a guinea's worth? Think'st thee He was so careful as theeself and said. and saw also those who might and should relieve them. This is not your case.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. For so said George Fox and the blessed first brothers. http://www. hast thee not? Q. how this lack of charity did stink as a carrion in the Lord Jesus Christ's nostrils. my blood shall go to the gin-shop? Q.

tho' it cost him dear. For Jesus be praised. Where while he lay there came one Mr Crompton. I warn thee. Thou art a most obstinate fellow. Thee'd break me and all who believe as I upon thy books of law. http://www. She has done no great crime. to make us the better grains of wheat. There shall thee find whether sin is judged of a farthing's weight beside thy law.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I will tomorrow have no unrest from thee or thy sectaries. and in one was my father innocent. I am well used to such. is it understood? No. and will never make fair cloth. that was also of my birth. great loss in many things of this world. most men think. A nation is lost which distinguisheth not law from sin.processtext. A. Crime is of fact. Come. A. A. such as the Inquisition hath plainly shown among the Papists. gross tyranny doth ensue. in the year of Monmouth. where all shall be charged. it shall never be. Who did greet my father thus when first they did encounter in fellowship. and what shall best suit their sinning lives in it. saying. for he threw off his chains and came to us. Q. that was men's. Men think. that are eleven inches in their foot no more than custom made iron to wall the rich against the poor. Thee knows it well as I. he was a Friend of Truth ever since he had met George Fox.html A. No more. Whereat my father would not be swayed. and spake so well of his beliefs that in the end 'twas the magistrate was left the more shaken in his own. in the same room as the Page 265 . and my enquiry just and proper. so long as I am Christian. And ever shall be. so be it. For in the end he spake to my father aside and said this: there are two justices in this world. The bench was well rid of him. It is now for thee to judge me. Thee's blind to truth. Q. We shall not be broke.aye. And most to this life. and would exhort him to mend his ways and adjure the fellowship of the Friends. EARLY THE NEXT morning Rebecca is ushered into Ayscough’s presence. praise the Lord. yet now I know justice without light is warp without weft. Thee'd deny repute with me. They say thee a fair man. nor standing there below. that I wove so poor a piece before. and his wife at Swarthmoor. Q. cool thy mischievous temper. Once sin is made crime. who first saw the light. men think . who knows what I am about. master lawyer. Else will I summon Mr Fotheringay straight. though strict in thy master's service. that is given of Antichrist. I know thee by thy repute. Be off. and was brought to gaol upon a trumpery charge at I know she is most suspicious close to a great liar. try thy worst. And three years after was this magistrate cause of great scandal. Q. who was magistrate and to judge him. And little to that court above. friend. that may be proven or not. which was the justice of God. and guilty only by the other. nay. Sin is for God alone to judge. And thou art blind to what all men other have judged and think. Q. '85. A. Inquisition sits well in thy mouth. I'll tell thee now a tale of my father's time. All thy rods shall be but flails. save she was born Eve.

Already a bone tumbler of water waits on the table before it.' 'You may sit. I would not forget I sinned. then turns to face her again. you shall not suffer.' ' 'You have no complaint of your lodging?' 'No. yet faces her and gives her a small nod of acknowledgement. I will not rehearse the tale you told me yesterday. You gave good example there. I would say this first. lost by this change of attitude in him. Most surprisingly he stands to greet her. the loss of a son.' Ayscough contemplates the waiting.html previous day. and as deserving of our concern. that you gave no countenance to the troublous malice Wardley and your father showed. If aught of consequence was left out. After that last answer he tilts his head and wig slightly in his characteristic way. and gestures her to her seat.' 'They meant no ill. 'You are well rested. need there. with a massive and bulbous-legged seventeenth-century table also. But she does not. and he walks away to the window. unyielding face in the light of the windows he stands by. is foreseen. having had this last night to reflect. before we begin. who has sat himself to one side at the end of the table.' 'There we must disagree. mistress Rebecca. He does not bow as he would have done to such a person. But in this. they are as one. He turns to John Tudor. you shall have no blame.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Rebecca's place is six feet of polished oak from that of her interlocutor. If.' 'I have told truth in all.' 'Ask. http://www.' She sits. you should now wish to change your sworn evidence.processtext. 'I must praise you for your conduct yesterday eve. as if he expects her to say something more. An august parent may differ in all else from a humble one. private meeting-place as the inn requires. but used for an occasional We must glean our fields more than other men. On that I give you my word. I would ask more of what your present piety must find it offensive to have made quick again. we must hold the smallest grain of truth precious. and makes a quick gesture of the hand: what first is to be said is not to be recorded. 'Mistress Rebecca. club-room. It is quite a large one. Is it not so?' 'I have told all I know. it seems. 'Mistress. it is fresh in your mind. you have broke your fast?' 'Yes. but he remains standing. No matter.' Ayscough looks down into those fixed and now obscurely puzzled eyes. This is not a converted bedchamber. and looks out thoughtfully.' 'To the best of your belief all passed as you say?' Page 266 . if you told not exact truth by reason of fear for your state or any other cause. mistress. almost as if she were a lady. we lawyers must be thrifty. the more so when there appears great dearth of it.

almost as if she is deaf to all reason. with her eyes still on his. or seems not the look. He was no more seen happily on his knees in church than swallows out of their winter mud. then continues. very well. I cannot and will not believe this absurd and blasphemous tale. It is his Lordship providing that assistance. this female figure the Holy Spirit beside. why.' Again he waits for her to reply. What happens is in fact what has happened a number of times in this interrogatory. http://www.' Page 267 .Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. nay.' ‘His Lordship was transported to Heaven?' 'Yes. most ripe for whatever should assist you in that. He goes on. Ayscough waits. if you heard such a tale as yours from another. I might wish it were so. again she does not. in most impious circumstance. Nor in his previous life. mistress. 'I will tell you a little of him. I may believe you were eager to leave your former life. and you but a common strumpet. who counted him the churlishest man alive towards your ex. but they retain that same strange blend of meekness and fixity as before. as if she must have Ayscough's words first translated from a foreign language before she can frame a reply. Alas he I knew. and there more improbable still in all else. in that he was called Poor John. when he did hide much from you. it must be got up to bubble and deceive. She is extremely slow to answer. to blind me from some much plainer truth?' Still Rebecca will not answer beyond staring at him. Why. but much more a strange pause. mistress. I wish it so.' Rebecca makes no answer. The attention he bestowed upon you would astound his own family or circle.' 'Mistress Rebecca. You knew his Lordship for scarce more than a month. She lacks completely Wardley's aggressive promptness and sharpness of repartee. some defensiveness in nor your June Eternal neither. or your own? Would you not cry. doubt either the teller's reason. He walks back to his chair across the table. and many others likewise knew. I cannot credit. hesitant and embarrassed. I have told truth plain. I have known him for these many years. Of poor husbands and carpenters being made divine. on occasion it is almost as if she answers not for herself. though clearly she now must make some response. That. that I likewise cannot credit. I can no more. It is not the look. 'I answer that most doubted or disbelieved when Christ first came. which he had never set eyes on in his life till a month before.html 'Yes. in great confidence. of one searching for words. nor woman that has not seen the world. He might perhaps have hoped for some weakening. despite his rank.processtext. you are no common fool. but waits until some mysterious adviser puts one in her mind. 'I speak not of much else. as you have admitted. mistress. mistress. Mistress Rebecca. had he shown the least respect for established religion. mistress. Would you not. Of your being brought to a chief place of pagan idolatry to meet Our Lord and His Most Sacred Father. and scarcely the less at a Devonshire cavern. was not he you portray. on my life. It is as if he has not spoken. that Wardley tells me is not even known among your own prophets. closer to dead fish than human flesh. But I have an advantage of you.

html 'You are too modest. or any other man and woman. of Satan.' 'The Almighty a yeoman. believes in ghosts.' 'Very well. something good Protestants expected and despised. What I did see was shadows of the light alone.' 'To be brought to paradise to meet God Almighty and His Son is no great matter?' 'So great it may hardly be said in words. is Jesus Christ not Jesus because He groans not on a cross? Angels not angels because I see them not with wings. I see no less true or false than thee in carnal seeing. He may feel. and first-last object of my love. a pleasure more than mortal. Ayscough has certainly supported the repeal of the Witchcraft Act (though not for Scotland) in this very year. I will not change. still largely unlit. of my soul I saw the light. Claiborne said you had as well been actress as what you were. which filled my soul with balm and greatest joy by Their presence. is that seemly?' 'Is God the Holy Father not so because he sits not in glory on a throne.processtext. with defective law and always disputable evidence. Rebecca is nine parts hiding truth in her holier vision (against which he has his own knowledge of his master's son to argue. and an ancient dislike of him muted behind respect for rank).Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. I knew not then how to say it in words. like the occasional uses of the ducking-stool. except for an occasional Virgin Mary to illiterate Mediterranean peasants. Ayscough. even his class of it. in a dilemma. yea. Yet so did it come to pass. not certain truth. I give you this great favour. He will never reveal it. of a lonely England. which is of light alone. yet there it sticks. not to credit some of them. Gods. no longer appear. though he conceals it. mistress. and by no means all from old wives and dotards.' Ayscough is left. or at least inventing. mistress. but there remains an irreducible one part. seen of my body. the Redeemer a haymaking labourer. fancy-nursing imagination. Have you not admitted there was no truth in what you told Jones? You may say it was forced then upon you to lie. since all you see is counted false? Is it not so?' 'What I see with my eyes is of the body carnal. for instance. 'You will not change your evidence? I Ghosts and spirits did not then come from an idle. of possible truth. I was brought up to count all images of godliness false. That some malign and wicked coven in a remote part of Devonshire still follows ancient practices remains very far from the bounds of possibility. not harps or trumpets? I told thee. a nagging thorn in his side. even in Ayscough's time such visions were strongly associated with Catholic trickery. Page 268 . yet has heard and read too many accounts. http://www. after this exchange. I know it not still.' 'It was not falsehood upon great matters. he does feel.' 'You may see with your eyes what you please. but not that you did not lie. that still held fewer human beings altogether than a fraction of modern London. Yet his England. A modern person would not have had a shadow of doubt that Rebecca was lying.' 'Nor from truth shall I suffer. that were we in a court of law. that they bear sickles in their hands. He does not say to himself there has never been witchcraft. was still very far from our certainties. he cannot quell. they came from the very real night. you should not have. Why. to thee. he has never seen one himself. you shall not suffer. rather that its worst aspects have lapsed. even attended as a younger man. and I was given sight of Jesus Christ and His Father. But this is largely because he now associates the witchcraft cases he has heard of.

You went out sometimes upon the town? To routs. seen him? A. Now we shall begin upon oath. elsewhere? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. but was first informed by what she read out? A. It was writ in Claiborne's book. Q. So be it. Q.' Q. On occasion. In larking. Q. Your services were often taken in advance. Q. http://www. She told me nothing of it till the morning of when he came. What is larking? Page 269 . No. Q. How long in advance was it writ? A. as I said. before his Lordship came to you at the bagnio. and upon your head if you prove false. ridottos.processtext. for all its words may be false. 'Write all.html Yet you will not have it. Nor heard speak of him? A. Was it so with his Lordship? A. the theatre. but never alone. Q. Yes. And you saw not what was entered. was it not so? A. Then how? A.' He sits down and glances to John Tudor at the table-end. under my name. Are you certain you had never. Q. No. This was her usual custom? A. Let us keep to thy carnal seeing. when we must always be with Claiborne and her bully-boys about us. Q. I had not. I knew not who he was till after. friend of Lord B…….

Now this .processtext. Q. Q. He gave you no sign you was chosen for purpose other than the hope then alleged? Page 270 . we were used to say among ourselves. Q.html A. You were punished? A. so it seemed. when he could take no ordinary pleasure in you. Q. We should dine with the bully-boys. confide you were not happy with your lot and would be rid of it? A. I might trust none. If he did. He might have heard of you.did you ever. Q. most unaccustomed? A. Better die than dine. And then were we treated worse than any punishment by law. Q. We suffered if we were found to cheat her. 'Twas called so. Q. to any whatsoever. Was not his Lordship's assiduity after you had met. He had pleasure in hope. You yourself were never so treated? A. http://www. you were to be seen in public places. Nor Dick? A. After you had met. No. Q. Alas. To snare sinners to the bagnio. You or your companions never made private assignations? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Nor any else. Q. No. Might not his Lordship have first seen you so? A. or words of that ilk? A. Not in the bosom of some fellow whore? A. She ruled us thus. None the less. I have known who were. Those who were lured and asked for assignations were told they might have them at the bagnio only. did his Lordship never say to suggest he had seen you before? That he had long sought to meet you. notwithstanding? There was gossip of you about the town? A. Q. No. I saw him not.

not what they would be. Q.html A. I was saved. but not whether I was tired. and most blames not those who know no better. Is it better a man fears he sins. yea. but those who do. did he not? A. Q. What harm have we done thee. is it so? A. mistress. Two or three questions. take that how you will? A. to wit. more great or more small it matters little. All that dwell in the flesh are damned. but those last. How is that? A. nay. also. God has seen fit to open His mind to you concerning this. Very well. Believe you. Must he none the less not have discovered such? Were you not chosen. Q. A. Q. mistress. We do not say they are revealed to us alone. To my point. I will follow where you'd lead me with your damning. May man and Page 271 . tho' most men do. you would quit the bagnio if you might? A.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. so be it they worship not the Antichrist. his Lordship had made especial enquiry to find if you were apt to his purpose. Did he not ask you of your life in the bagnio? Whether you were not tired of it. yet still will sin? Some did like to call whore and still worse at the height of their animal passion. let this rest for now. 'Tis nine parts fear of their own sin. sisters. God is now. No. Q. or He is not. I knew not one nor t'other then. And others be speechless animals like those they use. Q. not chosen. why should thee be so resolute to harm us. He asked you of your past. I had no inkling before the temple. yea. I follow you not. Q. but we are humble in them. even to those of their wives and God forgive them. He asked of it. their mothers. to scorn when we speak plain? Our beliefs come from God. He judges men by what they are. not most. to all else beside. before you had left London.processtext. not more. perchance? A. That is one. http://www. You must be chosen to be saved. A. Not one. they are damned. Q. daughters. Q. What doctrine is this? They that sin as coarsest brutes are less to be blamed than they who sin with conscience of their culpability? A. I say this: they who dwell in the flesh are damned. master Ayscough? We mean thee no harm. others by the names of those they Q.

Of the spirit. Q.) Very well. It shall be for what I do. What shall you do? A. Unless we cross it. 'tis not thy business. and far the less sinners? A. That answers not my question. All this has taken place that you may be by child? Page 272 . A.html woman not dwell sometimes in the flesh. if it were his purpose. Q. you may not agree? (_Non respondet__.processtext. or the rather. and are now rewarded. Q. tho' that is better than what I was. Q. Is your man one with you in this. Thee'd scorn we do abhor all sin of the flesh. And of Christ Q. Did you not say you saw children there? A. Christ's mercy comes oft where it seems least deserved. What make you now of his Lordship's part in your story? Why think you he should choose you? Why. are they not enjoined to procreate? A. Q. we shall not be saved. Why should you not answer. In their reward lies holy proof of what we believe. we live in Christ? Is it this. not one? A. and would cross it. let your silence speak for you. They were not carnal flesh. Is this the doctrine of the French Prophets? A. What I was is ashes. if they be lawfully wed? Why answer you not? Come. Q. I'll answer thee again. I was in need. I tell thee all I saw there in June Eternal were spirits of they who did fight while they lived against this evil sin. A. and none other? A. 'Tis between Christ and us. did he come to you. it is the source of all sin else. All pleasure of the flesh is sinful? A. Are others not in as great a need. nor what I am. Yes. Q. it is punishment for my long and wilful blindness. It cannot be for what I was. I ask again. mistress. whether they will it or not. There I'll not dispute. mistress. he agrees. They shall not live in June Eternal. Q. http://www. as us. What women are in this world to do.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Most this one. of all others he might have saved. that married not. Q.

Q. thou mayst not. A. Sign of what? A. all women are whores? Page 273 . well she might. Said it. She shall be handmaid to Holy Mother Wisdom. Thee knows not what it is to be woman. mistress. and grand-daughters beside. You have been honoured by the most high. And all women beside. save I am. Mistress. Q.processtext. even to my inmost heart. How indeed. Q. and the Holy Spirit beside. no.html A. Why should you not believe a diviner seed than that of Dick at work inside you? A. I am not so vain. What. A. and two daughters both older than you. A. The child I bear is but the carnal sign. or you by giving it birth shall do so? A. i have heard that riddle. having been vouchsafed to meet God and His Son. She shall bring the more. so I may be used still. Q. He shall be changed to woman? May God forgive me for uttering the very thought. How. are you so certain she shall be of your sex? Answer. The child shall bring them. Be not so Thee would snare me. Q. More light and more love. How should such a one come from so great a sinner? Q. I deny with all my soul I have believed it she I carry. No. A. I swear no. in thy alphabet. and had it answered. Q. As I was used when whore. I know not. I cannot. Is it not to a most wicked and blasphemous greater station still that you aspire for her? (_Non respondet__. Q. I have a wife. Do you deny that by your prophetick lights such a Christ in petticoats may come? A. How are you certain of this? A. I wager thou'st thought it. unless she believed herself grown saint . What is woman? Mistress. I have never said this.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. No riddle. Q. that is plain English.) Have I not plumbed thy depths? Is it not so among thy prophets? Do they not most impiously assever that when Christ is come again. dost thee not in secret believe there is now carried in thy womb such a woman-Christ? A. there is one and one only alphabet. And when she is grown. I doubt not she shall preach and prophesy. No. http://www. I say no.

we'll pass. it is so with all men. rebellious to family duty. If men think a thing be so. unless to those that grace awakened. What she would bring. I have said it plain. I know only what I believe myself. after that first. and sign also he saw this world's people do live in the night of Antichrist. but shall thank the Lord with all my heart I was given her. mistress. I do not say he was He of the Book. this brute Dick. yea. I say I am not worthy. did take such pleasure? A. And as Jesus Christ's body must die upon the Cross. I'd know what you would bring in the womb. She I carry. and shall do. to those he might trust or had hope in. I care not what other people believed. Q. I shall not weep. What I took as his cruelty was his kindness. Q. Yea. in them made outward and a seeming two. A. Despite he first hired you and set you to great lewdness? A. as I said. so might be said of them. for fear we be mocked because we are women. You say his Lordship must conceal. he was as one that finds himself in a country at war with his own. too short and plain. but in a far greater. I speak not of thee alone. Q. So I might see there lay the road to Hell. That she shall be Jesus Christ who comes. The master disdainful of all expected of his noble rank. Dick of the carnal and imperfect body. to wit that he is. this carnal self you speak of. nor so vain. where he must dissemble his true allegiance. how in much they seemed as one. and both spake and did for Him. pity and affection. tho' I saw it not at the first. but lives in June Eternal. the servant closer kin to a beast than to a human being. And 'tis time I tell thee this more. Now I know he who wept in my arms was the fallen half. so must this latterday earthly self. mistress. I say he was of His spirit. does the Evangel ever bear report of Him concealing and Page 274 . when He cried was forsaken. nor what she might bring if she were let. yet is he not dead. Q. He spake most often in such a manner he might not be obliged to say what he was.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Whoever she shall be. Mistake not. till I die. You say. the flesh. For which he must die.did He not most eximiously hold truth above all else? Why. and thee will not believe. as I saw. It became not. die so the other half be saved. he must dissemble his true allegiance. Despite his other self. We may not say what we believe. it was sent divinely to bear him from this world? A. nor say what we think. http://www. of the spirit of the Redeemer. we must obey. He took no part nor pleasure in it. And now do I see they were as one in truth. I tell thee now again I believe that other self shall be seen no more upon this earth.processtext. and could not understand it should be thus. There. but as I said. yet would not hide all. I spake this yesterday of his Lordship and his man. Q. which it surprised me I felt so strong. so Christ. no not ever as he has been. A. Holy Mother Wisdom is not heard nor seen. in His name. and suffered in such knowledge. His Lordship was not lord in this world alone. his Lordship of the spirit. no. disrespectful of God. poor unregenerate Dick. base or lewd pleasure. his Lordship was carried away upon this maggotmachine. so must it be. disobedient of his gracious father. and is one with Jesus Christ. the shadow beneath the light. such twin natures as we all must hold. Whores in this. so were they to all the world save you. mistress? Is it so Our Lord conducted himself . Q. I am but brought to bring her. that he must conceal. and everywhere. How is this. or was. Despite most of all. that none other has seen this in them? I gave you truth there.html A. she shall be more than I.

Thee'd keep me still cunning harlot. and by His grace. for He would have us choose Him freely. I will speak for His light. It is darkness. the evidence of things not seen. It tells what it is best we do. This your belief you have taken of Wardley? A. is not Christ. Meanwhile there are ventured only surrogates and agents. mere beast. Man must rule always over woman. Doth the sacred Bible not prescribe our duty. Things seen are temporal. Mistress. A. is not Christ. crying that God cannot partake of the sex of Eve. as they were at the first. Q. He shall come when it is purged of Antichrist. in all His glory. Does not this belief. Once only born. not what we must. when I look upon my past life. Now you would deny the very heart of Christianity. that He tells us man may change of his own will. 'tis the sepulchre this world doth lie in for its sins. Q. so be redeemed. what we must do? A. if He were known to be among us. this stinks of rank pride. What mean you by that? A. I am proud in Christ. willy-nilly. how all His divine power and His mystery must lie in this. and put him to mock and scorn.html dissembling. it is too dark with There is no must in that. Q. http://www. Hast thee not read the Apostles? Except a man be born again. and this present. unseen. A harlot must be always harlot. and Dick. Also of my own mind. Then shall He come as He is. and the more so. Q. Must we not obey Christ? A. In these presents He should be crucified again. thee'd keep his Lordship still disobedient son. Thee'd see all by this world's lights. is it so? A. All would be as thee. in hope however much we sin and are blind today. but naught else. If so thee see. And further. should He come as woman. He shall come when Christians are grown true Christians again. Q. or She as She is. is not Christ. that man may change. So have I heard Brother Wardley speak. he cannot see the kingdom of God. like some two-faced spy in fear for his own skin? What say you to that? Is it not blasphemy even to think it? A. So did God frame this world. Q. All must suffer for what they are born. is not Christ. thee cannot change. Christ dwells always in tomorrow. The Pharisees are grown strong. If a thing must be. thee must live by thy lights. And in defiance of all common and prescribed belief? A. Children must starve. the which any reasonable man may approve in matters of Page 275 . so it must be. notwithstanding I speak it ill. and did teach as He taught before. it is blasphemy. No must by this world's lights is Christ. tomorrow the scales shall drop and we be saved. Christ cannot come as He would to this world. Faith is the substance of things hoped for. Q. therefore we must be free also to choose evil and sin and darkness.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. is eternal. Q. If first we are free not to obey Him. it is not of Christ. Christ's kingdom is not must.processtext. for all your face of humility. for many do not do it.

As beasts may return home. Q. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. None. We would conquer by our faith and by persuasion alone. A. Q. No matter. and no man to guide them. Do you say as much. He knew not of God by rote. not by the sword. Do you say behind his outward there was hidden one less lacking? he is kind and compassionate. not his Lordship. Q. Even though it be done in His name. You would make more of him than any who knew him before. What make you of this: was it not Dick who did seem to lead on the last morning? He. he has no good sense. I know him better than thee. Q. Such change is not of Christ.processtext. as when you should dismount and proceed afoot? He who did first mount above while his Lordship and you did wait below? A. to the upsetting of all lawful order? Does it not become the most wicked notion that every man must change. Q. by what means he knew? A. by what he did? You have no suspicion. lack.html the soul and its redemption. even such as his Lordship. And seditious. I tell thee. not show itself a most opprobious and dangerous principle when it is carried into matters of this world? Must it not lead to civil war and revolution. he understood far better than most supposed? A. Q. Such is not Christ's way. He is man. And of good sense. enough of thy sermoning. It must seem that Dick had known the place. except where he is threatened by persecution. http://www. For yesterday he did proclaim to me he would go sword in hand against those who did not believe as he did. He did suffer for what he was. You saw nowhere evidence to conclude either had been in these parts on previous occasion? A. Q. He understood he was fallen. and one day soon shall suffer for it. and be brought to his change by bloody force and cruel tumult if he will not do so of his own free will? A. who seemed best to know when you should leave the highway. A. and made other contumacious threats upon the present government of this nation. yet of his heart. though lost at great distance from it. he was no beast in that.who will not take sword in hand for their beliefs? A. Is not this why the Prophets have parted company with the Quakers . Let us come now to Dick. And else beside? You have said most high things of his master. 'Tis no more true than wheaten bread is brown. Then now you deny Wardley. Among his own. Some knowledge in him there was that more complete men. Page 276 .

By faith the harlot Rahab perished not with them.html Q. thee'd have me mirror of my sex. I did sate his lust. I know not what passed. and is not fit. Might he not in his ignorance be moved by one likely cause alone. One that cannot cross its sin. in some manner henceforth lost to him as protector? A. thou'dst dare to make a theology of thy foolish fancyings. why. that will show such kindness and mercy to you. that he did see his Lordship killed before his eyes. the matter is of no consequence? What of this? A. Do you maintain. This of it. for so was he. lust incarnate. Jones said he did run from the cavern before you came out yourself as one in great fear and horror. I marked it when first I told you Dick was dead. Can thee not see I am changed. I do bear his child. first. woman. Thee'd have me answer what only God can answer. and play the self-elected saint among the clouds. to escape. what doth pass doth bring him to end his days. why she of all women. I have seen June Eternal? I will not suit.what right hast thou to coin such names. Then I'll put such an answer in thy mind. I say again. http://www. that had but a single thought. above such flim-flam things as common reason. and yet my heart rejoices he is dead. All is dark if God wills it. your June Eternal and your visions was as home to him? A. that thine has made. I cannot. she cannot know. Thou art worse than reformed harlot. I slept. Mistress. Q. Why doth this Holy Mother Wisdom. tho' falsely so. What dog does so. He did greet Holy Mother Wisdom when first she came to us so a faithful dog long kept from its mistress. I'd have thee answer what I may believe. without his sins. thy Holy Mother Wisdoms there . I will not suit. Q. Is not this most dark? A. not mine. Q. show none to a poor creature? Why is he let to run off and commit this great sin of _felo de se__? A. she. And dark also. Q. Q. Q. which doth further lead to the presumption he knew what should pass there. woman. who's known more lovers than stinking flesh has blow-flies? Who answers now she cannot tell. Thou art bishopess. I have told thee I was harlot still.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. who now must fawn upon her. What woman hears the father of the child she bears is dead. Now he shall rise yet despite this. if you yourself will answer thus. Q. I am harlot no more. as bull or stallion. Q. thy flibberty-gibberty dreamings with thy June Eternals here. I am Christ's reborn. having refound its mistress? A. when even thy fellow conventiclers Page 277 . he leads you to this place.processtext. A. and makes so little cry and to-do as you? As if she but hears of a nobody's death? Yet who declares herself later more enamoured of him than of any other. Is this your Christian fellowship? A. and that for his sake. or snatched away.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. nor Jesus Christ's neither.html know them not? A.processtext. Q. Q. Is it not divinely appointed it is sin to rebel against the authority of man? Witnessed in the Almighty's first act. as Joseph to Jesus. Thou wast never by child before? A. that use words to rejoice in the Lord? Are they not to praise Him. But in another thou dost count him so? A. of a busy night? _(Non respondet__. 'Tis reported so. What of its father not in this world? A.) No matter. Q. tho' signs to greater than words hereafter. This is brazen impudence. All are no more than words in this world. A. Which fault lies in man. I will have it said what thou'dst hide from me. Tho' with more than ample chance. My barrenness was Christ's will. 'less licensed by government? Q. by men. How many times wast thou ridden.) A pox on thy piety. that I am what I now am. So he might cross and deny his fleshly self. His Lordship is what he is. Which is the most father in thy unruly mind-is it Dick or is it his Lordship? A. 'Twas not I that provoked it. woman. Q. What of this bastard thou'dst palm off on thy man? A. I have told them to none save thee. (_Non respondet__. that sinned. Witness from one side No. I may guess. Q. Of the spirit. Q. A. The Holy Bible is false witness? A. http://www. and ever after? A. answer. no more. If thee'll watch thine. and His will. Thy world is not my world. It was this. nor shall not. to thy mind Dick died by guilt of his lust for thee? A. nor shall not. Q. not the seed. no less. Q. Q. Eve came of Adam's Page 278 . not in God or His Son. which is not father in this world. Watch thy tongue. Are thy steeple-house hymns and anthems evil. Other names beside I have not told thee. Enough. she shall be no bastard. My husband shall be her father in this world.

hands as always on her lap.' There is no reaction in her expression. knew she did not give to such pretended respect. Snare. Equal were they made. 'Thou art a liar. and cannot answer to the good reason for fear it be taken for the bad. more polite way than on the previous day. was it not so? And now thou'dst have them serve thine. Now it is he who is slow to reply. Thy pleasure's now to fly in the face of all our forefathers have in their wisdom told us we must believe. always the lawyer on the attack. I'll tell thee my evil purpose. Thou wert drab to serve men for their pleasure. and put off the old as a ribband. but of Moses. that is all.html rib.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. thou cunning jade. yet as things wore on. slow-answering in her manner. what snare? A. Change that is my purpose. Ayscough stares at her. so 'tis said in the second of Genesis. In the first 'tis said God created man and woman in His own image. And Jesus Christ said. since the beginning. Most in this world is unjust by act of man. a last year's fashion. as he has often in the interrogatory. during such pauses. Ayscough speaks at last. the nineteenth chapter. Thou art a liar. Her eyes may hold still some hint of meekness. who did allow men to put away their wives. Q. A. but her face seems pinched. snare. So it has gone. Matthew. as termagant or virago.processtext. to concede nothing. intent on his eyes. determined to be obdurate. John Tudor looks up at her from his shorthand. no. male and female created He them. beneath thy plain cap and 'Tis all the better to have thy unwomanly revenge. there hast thou malignantly found shot to weight a base resentment. Thee'd have me say I am lost in revenge. Neither soft nor hard Page 279 . Q. and there nothing of ribs. It has become obvious Ayscough's patience grows thin. She sits bolt upright in her armless wood chair. than to her. Religion is thy mask. I do not believe thee a new-born woman. no more. She stares. as if she faced the Antichrist in person. not of Our Lord Jesus Christ. from the beginning it was not so. woman. this assertion once made. A. He had opted to begin in a kinder. Which Our Lord Jesus Christ did further speak of in the Gospel of St. http://www. Thou hast found a new vice. Thee'll not snare me so. not one tittle. always Rebecca staring. it seems rather more of her.

Except for high treason. Thy sinning world doth mock and persecute. that blind thee worst theeself. thee will not have it. No. yea. thee and thine are certain damned. and for all his faults Ayscough was English. they disturb. In themselves these are neither good nor evil. it is prophesied. its crying need. and thee and thy legion accursed in Antichrist damned for thy blindness. With Rebecca it was less. yea. Can thee not see this world is lost? 'Tis not new sinning. I tell thee it shall never be washed clean nor newed again.' 'Address me not so. or at least runs. Like Rebecca. it shall come to pass.' But Rebecca now does the unheard-of. yea. Those whom the left lobe (and the right hand) dominates are rational. since time began. though long before such physical explanations of their contrariness could be mooted. left and right. 'tis oldly so. instead of keeping them in control and order.' She falls. that she felt herself and her religion insulted and disbelieved. http://www. and each day more. 'tis sin every thread. nor its evil ways thrown off. but the Bill of Rights had ended such procedures in England. Yea. thee's night. His light shall shine Page 280 . where mysticism and lack of logic are given value. yea. thy wicked ways. yea. Thee play blind. Can thee not see. its fierce being now. 'Silence. They tend to live and wander in a hugely extended now. so shall the sinners see. that is her kind. glib with words. they upset. A sage and sober god of evolution must regard those dominated by the right lobe as far less desirable. I will not have it. 'Thee will not have it. not French. as it might be today. yea. mathematical. except in one or two very peripheral things like art and 'How dost honour Heaven? By turning this present world to Hell. Such scepticism and persecution were commonplace. She stands also. By this we shall conquer. and continues her denunciation. perhaps at root those. it seems almost to herself. By that method at least one had got to the bottom. their sense of time (and politic timing) is often defective. native province and the rest.html words would break her. His way shall be resurrected. In truth these two were set apart from each other not only by countless barriers of age. live Jesus Christ's ways now forgotten. Rebecca is driven now to the very brink of her left-handed self. usually careful and conventional. of the two hemispheres of the brain. interrogation aided by rack and thumbscrew. that corrupt the innocent from the day they are born. treating both past and future as present. They confuse. I tell thee Christ returns. and acutely suspicious. but rapidly. They speak for opposite poles. often confused in argument. That did not prevent him feeling a growing ill temper. 'Tis cloth a thousand and a thousand times rent and soiled. its reason. Once or twice his mind slipped back to the days of the real question. never made new again by thee and thine. they are poor at reason. reveal the enigma she hid: what really happened. they survived only in wicked and degenerate Catholic countries like France. Can thee not see we who live by Christ are thy only hope? Flee thy ways. decent right-handers. thee and thine are blind?' Ayscough rises abruptly from his chair. firmly separated. It was far more that this interrogation did not let the religion be fully seen . not slowly now. almost to the point of incoherence. At last she speaks. human society largely runs on an even keel. Thee's cloud.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. class. Thee play blind. like honest. ordered. because of them. education. sex.its right. we of faith shall be justified. thee's Lucifer with thy questions. she would have been surprised had they not been. but by something far deeper still: by belonging to two very different halves of the human spirit. it would bury them. woman! I say silence. So truly are these two human beings of 1736. thee'd blind me with thy lawyer's chains.processtext.

Ayscough looks back at Rebecca. No. some fifteen feet from where she stands. 'tis now. Of one accord they look back to Rebecca. I see. nor shrugging of shoulders. Still Rebecca stares towards the door. thee'd bind me in thy evil snares. no. No judge shall judge the poor. dear God. Something extraordinary has happened. Dost thee not see. no sin shall be. nor cruel sneers. the world shall be all window. dost thee not see. nor wicked will. hesitates a moment.html through every deed and word. no. the lion shall lie with the lamb. man. thee shall not.' 'I'll have thee thrown in gaol and whipped!' 'No. man. all shall be light and justice. sir. It is exactly as if someone has entered by it and now stands there. and shining light. It stands silently there. struck dumb. almost like one grateful to be silenced. A small side-door there apparently leads to the adjacent At that last 'I see'. ' Ayscough throws a look at John Tudor. Stop her tongue. nor blindness like thine to all that breaks thy comfort and thy selfish ways. making further speech impossible. who would steal himself. brought unexpectedly face to face with someone she trusts and loves. thee cannot be so blind to thy own eternity. were he them. her eyes have suddenly shifted. rapidly scribbling his shorthand. it-' Tudor moves to silence her. on the contrary. dost not see I see. nor greed shall rule. 'I tell thee I see. who has remained head down. stir thyself. nor master and servant.' Tudor stands. nor happy shoes and shirts while any go naked. unopened. . http://www. harder. thee cling to it in vain. and punished in Hell. all evil seen thereby. to see her still staring as before. Whatever she sees. who answers his unspoken question. likewise not vanity. From staring at Ayscough.processtext. yet not dumbfounded or amazed. childlike and expectant. her expression is more that of a dawning smile. gingerly reaches out a hand and shakes her arm. . thee evil dwarf. I tell thee time past did never once return.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. almost at once he stops. 'tis now. then to Tudor. they look away. thee cannot . 'For God's sake. She won't bite thee. pinched and obstinate quality in her face has mysteriously passed away. as if she were a snake or some dangerous animal. No one has entered. then stopping a yard short of the tranced girl. nor parent and child. no strife more between man and man. to the corner of the room to her left. nor washing of hands. it seems rooted. tamed. 'No one entered?' 'Not a soul. nor feasting while others starve. 'Harder. All that previous. between man and woman.' Page 281 . I tell thee a new world comes. it comes. The impression of this is so vivid that both Ayscough and his clerk look swiftly to the side-door. and none of the damned like thee withstand it.' Tudor moves closer.' The two men stare a moment at each other. Ayscough looks quickly round to the door again. 'She is in a fit. See if she may be woken. thee cannot. curiously timid.

and once more puts her hands on her lap. mistress?' She nods her bowed head. but as he continues to shake there comes a small cry from her. master. three times. 'Twill pass. become unshameable.' 'Let her be. as she straightens up to face him. but sees nothing. It is past. toward the door?' At last she speaks. your words most insulting of me. 'It was a person?' 'Yes. as if it is sufficient answer. He walks more slowly back to the window and stares out. mistress. give her water. 'At what I saw. He will long remember it. After a minute Ayscough goes back to his chair. that is all. He sees his clerk has managed to persuade her to drink. and moving her chair back. more love. than true pain. But there he is defeated. hands on table.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Her face gives him a shock. The irreducible one part of his mind stands as shaken as Rebecca herself. 'Make her sit. 'I am not ashamed. They close immediately and her head sinks.' 'A person of this world?' 'No.' He folds his arms across his breast. 'What is this. 'We may proceed?' Again she nods her head.' There was none there. though he tries twice. 'What came upon you then?' She shakes her head. for it holds a faint but perceptible smile. then raises her hands to her face. 'Water. rending in their intensity.html Tudor goes behind 'Are you ashamed of what you saw?' Then he has Rebecca's eyes. though he does not admit it. racking her body. Why answer you not? I will forgive you your ranting and your insolence. http://www. it is locked. At first she seems oblivious. takes both her arms.' Tudor places the chair behind her. 'Why stared you so. then gestures Tudor back to his seat.processtext. Ayscough leans forward. though she still sits with her head bowed. her head sunk deep. Slowly her eyes find Ayscough who still stands facing her across the table. then goes abruptly to the side-door to open it.' 'Why smile you?' She continues smiling. though without looking up. and stands with a hand on her shoulder. as of pain. but in vain. It is low. 'Tis like the vapours. does he turn again.' 'Are you returned within your senses. and waits. He watches her bent head for a few moments. what saw you then?' Her only answer is a deeper sob.' Page 282 . Only when they become less frequent. and begins to sob. it seems at first in shame. as if she would hide this collapse into emotion.' She sits as if will-less.' Ayscough scrutinizes the sobbing woman a little longer. nor looks back as her sobs rise. I would know what you saw. 'Sit. with increasing irritation.

' 'She you call Holy Mother Wisdom?' 'No . Yet in what follows of the interrogatory. the Saviour?' 'No. no more of this coyness. neither in this historical present. that takes no account of what is obstacle to ordinary flesh? A. 'Mistress. Q. His Lordship? You maintain. He came then as a ghost. http://www. Q. it seemed at one who stood behind. You did stare.html 'Did you believe it to be Our Lord. and close it behind? A. it is as if only now she remembers where she is. nor in the future. He you would find. who was it?' Her face has lost its mysterious smile. What clothes wore he? As those he wore when you travelled into Devon? As those in your dream? A. an apparition. He came. Is it not so? Come.processtext. Page 283 . Q. Did he open the door to enter. A. What expression bore he? A. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Rebecca is not to seem the same. before an enemy. No. Q. and cannot win. One knows. that had entered. As those he wore of June Eternal. One knows she will not win. Thee will not believe. and she does not. As my friend. you saw his Lordship stand here in this very room? A.

Q. It is so or it is not? Did you not tell false at the very beginning. it may be not as here today. seen him as it seemed in the flesh? A. So you may say. Not by word. yet as he is. Did he not speak? A. Q. Q. That what it does and believes is right. Most close. Q. As a less fanciful might say. I grow angry. In the soul. on such occasion you felt his spirit close. Is it not this . This you must know. Page 284 . Q. addressed you? A. you have seen him? A. Your soul is told what it must do and believe? A. Q. Such is no answer.has he ever said. believe this or that I tell you? A. Thee will not believe. none the less so you may say. He needs no words. I have known him close. when I asked if you had had any communication whatsoever with him? What is this else? A. You were not surprised to see him so? Answer me. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. You are certain it is in your June Eternal? A. Q. Has his Lordship never. where his flesh might now be? A. In the spirit. Q. No.html Q. Yes. Have you or have you not seen him. I have felt his spirit close? A.processtext. Has the spirit or what you will of his Lordship never spoken of himself. A. How in the spirit . Have you as here. He is my friend. do this or that. What is the flesh? Q. It has no have seen him so on other occasions since the first of May? Is it not so? Answer. http://www. Q. I have seen him? A. He was not in this world's flesh.

html Q. thereby to prove the efficacy of their conviction? Why said you nothing of this to anyone. Yes.processtext. No. most plain. I have seen him among us. Q. or few? A. your man. It is not of such presence they may believe. whosoever it might be. if you were to tell of what passed this last April? They should not understand this great worth you put upon him? They see not so far as you? A. Q. When I have need. The more rarely the more latterly? A. Shall you tell them. You may say in the your parents. He would not yet be seen by all. Q. Truth will out. and our master Jesus Christ. http://www. your friends and gossips. Q. They shall be told. Q. yet my brothers and sisters not. where we meet. Is it often or not? Many occasions. his Lordship is of the spirit of Jesus Christ? Is that not presence enough? A. that you have had such visions. Q. Q. Is it not most common among your co-religionaries they make publick their visions among you. None but he. Q. in time to come? A. Often. Often at the first. what you may call it? A. Why dost thou ever speak the word as a cat laps cream? Is this Christian. mistress? A. and all but the damned shall see. Have you told any other. How often has this been since the first of May? Shake not your head. Q. Did you not say. or less? A. Your fellows should not acknowledge him. of these conversations? A. that you should so often rejoice in the damnation of others? Page 285 . By whom. None can bear witness to this. spiritual conversation'. if not you? A. mistress.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. It is not time that he was seen.

I will be led no more into such idle disputation. seen or spoken with his Lordship since the first of May last. And you. Can thee tell why. He would not allow it. of these following matters. It is appointed so. I shall know. You shall not speak of what has passed here. Q. you have not in any common By living as we should and would. http://www. Answer not. then I prophesy you shall be forbid. which is by Christ's light and word. A. it is appointed. Neither to your man. mistress. Of what may come you speak as if it were already come. and shall make you curse the day you speak. which speaks far more to your present intemperate desire than to what time shall bring in truth. If you prove so contrary and obstinate in all. all shall be such fire I saw. but not by will of God. I ask thee plain. nor had communication with him. But silence. that thee and thine have brought about a hell worse than Hell itself for all below thee on this earth. that is. Can thee and thy law answer the plain question? Thee knows 'tis so. and most severely. Q. In this you shall not now or ever more be prophetess.html A. Think not you may speak despite this. that nothing may change. Q. and be made most terrible example of. Thee'd twist His patience into a justifying. for the now.processtext. I rejoice not. You may state no more than this: what is become of him. If thee and thine think they may prison God's truth. nor Wardley. mistress. Q. Nor shall you speak of those same things to prove your faith. nor news by third party whatsoever of him. I ask again. that I did break my given word. All shall be dust and ashes. without your visions and spiritual conversations. I may write my flesh's name. can thee justify? Q. nor any else beside. Were it not God's will. Q.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. in the both cases. This is not all. to make of his Lordship in your meetings what he never was. A. Have you letters to write your name? A. That He has not struck is no proof He shall not. His anger to satisfaction of your own resentment. Is it understood? A. I demand your sworn oath thereon. Yea. One day it shall be paid back. nor your father. Still you prophesy. is that Christian? Thee knows I am a simple woman. and with good cause. Q. by will of rich men alone. The most rich deserves the most. and signed upon this paper before me. I shall not know. A. I require likewise your oath sworn and signed upon what you did swear at the beginning: which is. yea. I will not have truth nor untruth from you. As Herod must be understood. I warn thee. So 1. Mercy is money loaned. nor of what passed earlier this year. First I admonish you. or he who pays not shall suffer for it. thee's a subtle man of law. To each his deserts. Page 286 . How shall you change this present world? A. Q. I'll be thy bar to prove thee wrong. I am almost done with you. 'Tis thee and thy kind most in this world that do rejoice. A.

things are not as expected. I would the rather see thee flogged for thy insolence.' 'Take.processtext. that is done against my advice.html you know not. had I my way. if called upon.' 'Thy new pride wishes it not. http://www. as a man watches. that she did sign with her name. shall fall upon you.' 'No.' 'No. Ayscough stops Rebecca as she would move. I will sign. Rebecca stands.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Q. Think not you are free. You may go. in something they surprise.) Q. it shall be with you as you said yourself of mercy not paid most duly back. a guinea. All the just wrath of his Lordship's family. 'There is a last matter. You shall be made most terrible example of. I would make light of all. (_Here was the said solemn affidavit read to the deponent. and my own. Thee'd pin me fast upon the least. Do you smile. It is O. Nothing else.' Page 287 . against thy lying in. I'll have thee pinned in gaol. 'I do not wish it. You shall attend. Very Well. and it was witnessed duly__.' Ayscough feels inside a waistcoat pocket. I warn you one last time. If you have lied and I shall at any future time discover such. even though it is his master. John Tudor looks slowly up from the end of the table at his master. I'll have no more of you at this present. A. I shall deserve no less. to answer further. then pushes a small golden coin across the table.' He pauses. 'I am instructed to give thee this. and toss aside the most. if thou dost make light of this. mistress? A.

'Then I give thee what thou must take. http://www. that is. Here I must first state to Your Grace what is not clear writ. of her fit of seeing. 'A prophecy. his head is down. as _non obstante__ I am persuaded that her evidence is false in the substantial truth of what passed.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.' She goes. we may say as the ancient father. This appeared to me neither malignantly rehearsed. Your Grace will here read much I doubt he will credit. I am persuaded she lies little in any ordinary sense. I did find more suspicious a manner upon her when she was recovered. I shall not ask again. I give thee more love. master Ayscough. the 10th October. yet I trust he will give me leave to say that I think we deal not here with a tissue of cunning-ordinary lies.' They stare at each other. nor thereby put her wretched skin at such risk. Your Grace.' Still Rebecca stares at him. Thou'lt be hanged yet.processtext. as if he would vent an anger on him. and shakes her head. as to which I may not Page 288 . as to what she believes of these events and their nature and meaning. or such a tale as a common female rogue might invent to save her skin. and that their practice did but swell and ripen those unseemly resentments she had gained from her life in the in so much as the woman Lee is concerned.html 'Take. In brief. _Credo quia absurdum__. nor else in its nature than is said common among her kind of superstitious sectary. it is most (if at all) to be believed because it is impossible to be believed. But that worthy is no fool. For much it is plain she was grossly practised upon by his Lordship and his man. 'Thee's need also.' Rebecca looks down at the coin. After a few moments he reaches for his rejected guinea and shoots a fierce glance towards John Tudor. she should surely have found better than such extravagance as this. and Ayscough begins to collect his papers. for were she truly cunning of the kind. Manchester.

in house and home notwithstanding it were by vice and immodesty. and are French exiles still among us. such as I did meet with in her former mistress. Lee is the more strong in this her perversity. In most she is of an obstinacy of belief Yr Grace's servant hath seldom encountered. or the more careless of what her manner might betray of disrespect for my enquiry. and he may censure me that I pressed not more hard to expose such patent muddled foolishness. Yr Grace may feel she is eminently prosecutable in this her claim. 'twas as if she now put on anew a part of her hid till then: a strumpet's insolence. who loses far greater sums in all else. she is not to be broken easily of her new ways. Claiborne. for though they honour in outward the civil law they show no respect for it among themselves. than when brought to a specious piety. the which he doubts not long in coming. 'Tis plain this borders upon. _puellae cloacarum__. I need not to point out to Yr Grace what further consequence might ensue were this most infamous one awoken. likewise in what she would hope of this bastard she carries. brought to know God's wisdom in decreeing for them their natural place as helpmeet to man. and let run in the publick street. To all argument of those that would remonstrate or dispute with them. most blindly _opiniatre__. I should rather believe this.html easily explain. the base dross of this world. her fit made her the more determined in her wilful pride. as if they speak not a common tongue. it is most easy proven vile insult upon all decent religion. and bold in their own defence. But they are close people. yet to her it counts (tho' she did not. Yet even this impudent and forward contempt in her was neither politic nor cunning if she but purposed to deceive. as is the commonalty of her sex.Mr F. 'tis well known. I judge all of her religion here in this town pernicious. says. There was. Such as she are far less dangerous when they are common miscreants. claim full certainty) as not without plausible expectation. It is recorded. nay is. and he tells me he shall act to prevent them so soon as good case be found. Your Grace may adduce it from this present case. such as this may not be humbled so.processtext. Yet time. Dogs the like are best let sleep in silence. nay. that once heard. that hath had more dealings with them.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Yet to our purpose. Such gross delusion of prophecy. she did smile: but not her ill-disguised scorn that I should ask her if she were not ashamed at what she saw. They are like those put under a spell by some legendary romance. they would rather first be burnt at the stake than hear reason or recant. Wardley has been heard say so much: that it is futile and nugatory to dispute religious matters with ordinary Christians. Yr Grace will divine. they are close watched. yet must by her faith. but are its foolish slaves thenceforward. and punishment for it of a kind her arrogance may least bear. She was never. nay speak of it as tyranny and say it shall be overthrown in time to come. such a plainly impious assertion is best not published. like a veritable madwoman. and finally grow bound irrevocable to it. Yr Grace will observe she shows little and often no reason nor logick in her beliefs. which (Yr Grace must know but too well) most signally denies all credible knowledge. Mr F. they are obstinate to death. I pray Yr Grace will take my word. they cannot shake off. http://www. for that the _rota fortunae__ did bring her greatly above her destined station. Nothing shall persuade them it be false. as almost to say on occasion she was sorry to answer thus boldly. in her general manner of answering less pertness and contradiction than may appear in the written words. I doubt not. as any man in a far better cause. they are deaf . besides that I trust Yr Grace will upon reflection agree. the rankest blasphemy. apart from that instance I have cited. In short Your Grace may believe me this. shall soon enough make sufficient example of her culpable foolishness therein. doth always attract its adherents among the idle and credulous mob. tho' it be in unreason and for all their womanishness in outward. has a spy among them. as is seen in what she declared of his Lordship's secret nature and character. I know her unlettered kind. as fixed and resolute in this. for they are Turks in their ignorance and shall be damned for it. I do Page 289 . I count this small pence in her favour. and so also doth Mr Fotheringay. are driven by it farther into their apostacy.

then only. but did later. yet must I believe here we may best ground explanation of what occurred last April . his master's corse. that most direful task done. he was as just as he is accustomed. as to reason for his Lordship's said that it is more probable he doth now live in retirement abroad. by hand unknown. Yr Grace knows as well as I. did follow in his master's footsteps. http://www. neither of his then taking ship nor of his being now settled in some foreign city. not one of those our agents and ambassadors to whom I have written on this behalf. and would not have it. or more likely carry it as he could to some place other we know not of. I may conjecture it passed thus. I fear now we were mistaken. there is not. if I might. his Lordship still lives. and finding there what he had most believe Lee. Yr Grace. but one who saw (may God forgive her) the Devil's money. I am reduced to this: his Lordship's death was self-given. that I should not hide my conclusions by reason of the natural reverence I must harbour for his most eminent rank. again I would believe. When Your Grace did say. he did not die in melancholy at his master's side. that is. As Your Grace knows. as Jones did report. It may not.processtext. we must judge by probability. upon his view of her. I would believe him foully murdered. in brutal simplicity. Why then should he not take his servant? In such matters. and hang himself in his despair. yet may not in reason believe. by the hand of any of those we know to have been there. I cannot credit he died of his own hand by any cause except this: like the dog in human form that he was. Horresco referens. I shall now. in the Page 290 . It may be said he was most able to embark in secret. were there any evidence or probability to it. To this must be added what is proof only by negation. did then run from it in extremest horror. return there to see what in his simple wits he would not believe he had first seen. I take also into account the death of his man Thurlow. Your Grace. no word is heard of his Lordship since the dark first of May. howsoever misled. did inter it in that place. though it be with the greatest reluctance. and it may be not before the next morning. that Thurlow saw his Lordship die within the cavern.I speak not only of those philosophical pursuits his Lordship has these last years followed in such headstrong disobedience to Your Grace's wishes. for all her sometimes guise of meekness. firm in this her quarrelling new faith. he knew his beloved master dead and wished to live no more. Your Grace did me the honour to say. to state how his Lordship may have come to his tristfully ill-starred end. She refused Your Grace's charity not as one that was notwithstanding tempted to take it. . Yet must I still assume that such a death was what drove him to the most desperate end he than gave himself. This I must ground not only upon that of which Yr Grace is already cognizant: his Lordship's having drawn upon no part of his allowance nor revenue since last he was seen in this world. The place where his felony de se was done was well searched. after the wench and Jones was gone. did he run off. as I said. Upon this conjecture must I alas hazard further. and in my presence. this one week past. obey his wish. though offered in pity. I will not repeat all in his Lordship's past Your Grace knows better than I. In this Thurlow did but do as in so much else. were either such the case. perhaps from some port other than Bideford or Barnstable. if he will thus far grant me my most melancholy supposition. I shall compendiate it thus: I may hope. this was no ordinary woman. and tears also must I weep. nor that Thurlow should not defend him.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. yet must grow in strength with passing time. that the most probable truth I have come to should be so bitter. to wit. and that has so often excited Yr Grace's disapprobation and paternal distress. I cannot. I will add no more on her account. alas. where we have no certainty. Your Grace knows what devotion the fellow showed to his master through all their lives together. which I shall come to. and where we have not enquired. there is no doubt. but more deep. Yr Grace's command doth now oblige me. and may now live in equal secret where he went. hath made such answer as we hoped. That she is of strong will. It is true he did not as in most cases.

and he did answer. the better we may not see where they truly tend. It is but too well known from history such pursuits may lead their follower out of the noble world of reason. Nor do I doubt as to the general drift of the grand design. I do not say she lied knowingly in this. but in view of his most fortunate rank.html most contrary spirit that allowed. I do not say the account the woman Lee gave Jones is to be believed exact. to maintain and uphold. as is his Lordship's case above. that care outwardly not a farthing for Church and Religion. These above do declare themselves openly what they are. Your Grace. it may well be because he could not accomplish his grand design. I thought then in his manner half in sour jest. nor King and Constitution neither. far worse. Your Grace. Upon which I remarked it seemed he would usurp upon divine prerogative. He did seek wickedly to pierce some dark secret of existence. into matters most plainly blasphemous. the wisdom by which this world doth best conduct and govern itself. into the black labyrinth of the Chimaera. It may be his Lordship felt a respect for his noble father which did most often prevent him from speaking before him in his darker vein. who make no bones in professing to believe in nothing beyond their own pleasures in debauch. as foxes. http://www. Yet these are not what Sir Rich'd spoke of. since the world showed us it was easy enough to make men into Even when he did. and a fool. of commendable and useful enquiry. I will not weary Your Grace by adducing how much in his Lordship's past must suggest there was ever in him some perverse principle that drove him to deny what reason and filial respect might have most expected him to believe . as is most often the case.processtext. These I speak of do most largely conceal behind a mask what they truly believe and would work upon in matters civil and political. upon the abolition of the Act against Witchcraft. I must believe now. this is what passed with his Lordship. There are many such in London. I may here repeat what Sir Rich'd Malton did remark recently to me in London. Why. In truth he would doubt all: birth. nor their true black tergiversation beneath. which was this: that tho' the old hags be counted gone. yet was led by means obscure to credit the opposite of what was truly intended. Yet he was ever not bold enough. and so must it be the Devil's prerogative he would usurp. not only to believe. _Nos haec novimus esse nihil__. To which he replied I was mistaken. society. in other circumstance I have been witness to. We have all on occasion heard words and opinions from his Lordship's mouth that offend both divine wisdom and its reflection in this world below . so to say in some more adept world their present provisions and dispositions should be found evil and corrupt. justice. to further his own ends. there were impudent libertine philosophers enough to take their place. and gentlemen not find in him beyond a fashionable cynic. that would turn Musulman to gain a place or particular favour. save I do not doubt there was a natural proclivity in Lee that his Lordship had observed. or more subtly they but show enough to make themselves believed fashions slaves. or too cunning. his Lordship to indulge them. Your Grace will ask by what means. to speak these things outright. This twelve-month gone I did chance to ask his Lordship upon what he was engaged in his inquiries. they are no more than slaves of a pernicious fashion of the times. They make their outward impudence their mask. I must now believe. I have heard the ladies declare him a tease. and as plainly forbidden to mortals. and moreover grew besotted by it. into a philosopher. government. for there are worse beside. its sagacity in matters civil and political.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. and his holding a (but too familiar) rancour thereat.I would say. Page 291 . I have heard the blame for his views put upon his being a younger son. that in that exchange lay some part of a confession he might have declared. yet may it be nearer truth than what I am myself here told by her. and philosophers into fools.nay. how I may make a man of a toad. nay drove. Even with those more discerning in their censure. and there I cannot answer him. and did see also it might be made his tool. no more. who cares more for the mark he makes in polite society than for his immortal soul. had the occasion not been trivial and in passing.

He himself. Your Grace will not. never to be still nor found in the same humour from one minute to the next. I doubt not that those he had hired should be paid. Your Grace. in this our unknowing we are not obliged to declare the worst of his Lordship. we know not. I fear Your Grace was not mistaken: he may justly conclude that in all matters but of blood. to allay maternal concern. I doubt his Lordship cares one whit for their religion. take offence I put my conclusion so baldly. and driven to it by a malevolent and unreasoning hatred and resentment not only of his noble father. to prove the point he dared not make himself. and with this only to commend it: that coming to recognize he had sinned most heinously. Yr Grace. This is clear behind the drift of our French Prophetess: all are to be counted equal. such as at Stonehenge? Whereby he raised the light into the sky and made appear those two figures blasphemously passed off as the Almighty and His Son. his Lordship was indeed as a changeling. and not his true son. as I have here with great reluctance but upon best probability stated. Now that this one was a she. They would break this nation to pieces. viz. he was hoist on his own petard. as he will no doubt recall. How can he not not have perceived he forsook the pursuit of scholarship for common trickery. and not least the unimpeachable testimony of physiognomical likeness. must I believe he did come finally to what passed in April. in her guise of seditious may seem a madness in him. yet-it may be she was freighted but for a first proof and essay. was his Lordship broken himself. and in that doing he did become vile to himself. though there it is to be noted we know not what passed except by Lee's testimony. nay. these their other desires. not on birth. Such as she may place such dangerous belief upon religious grounds. it may be said it is because he knows himself not worthy to be Yr Grace's son. and to regret it with a violence unaccustomed even in him. they are his also.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. why. to see if a simple woman of pleasure might not be turned into the fanatick she is become. and likewise at the cavern. and in such violence did end his wretched days.processtext. Your Grace. he should believe his Lordship a changeling. for they place the judgement of a person's worth not upon his condition but upon himself. we may see he was oft in secret doubt of it. or by black art of some kind.html By such weakness or fear. and would Page 292 . against all past belief and family knowledge. and here I shall respectfully propose to him there is one consolation to be drawn. He would persuade one who was in this comparatively innocent. yet Yr Grace may judge it should be allowed some colour of extenuation. that at the last he did acknowledge to himself he was upon madness. to destroy the sacred laws of inheritance. http://www. in unholy union with all decency abhors. his enterprise misgave him long before it was concluded. even unto those means that allowed him to pursue such ends. In plain words. I trust. that he is now disappeared. Your Grace did also ask me in what manner he should best broach this matter to his most esteemed spouse. did once vouchsafe to this his most humble servant that were it not all evidence denied. of the mob. this world that is must be upset. but upon the mere fact of being. Yet must I guess it most likely so. In what is said of him and his behaviour upon his journey. It is plain their general spirit is rabid political. and I believe there put upon her not by any outward melfeasance and deceit. by such sad presage must I come to this: in that he would break the world which bore him. among much else. to serve his secret ends. and whore besides. he must condemn himself to no less than he did. We may not easily believe what the woman Lee declares him to have been and to have become. which is more of gross fantasy than credible fact. since it is at his behest.. He stayed behind when all was done. Those are such no thinking man could countenance. And furthermore. Fiat experimentum in corpore vili. and all evidence of trickery cleared away in the night. gullible beside. but far more likely by means of drug or potion. His Lordship's youngest sister did once remark to me that her brother was as a pendulum. but of the sacred principles of all respectable society and belief. as only proper expiation of his awful crimes. I cannot say positively it was so. and to which he owed all. Here I must believe conscience did mercifully put a stop upon his Lordship's venture. to launch such a venture on so small and miserable a bark. In that black Devonshire cavern 'tis most probable he did find himself to swing away from all he had done.

as Yr Grace will understand. before this echo of afar greater birth. with the new-swaddled baby clasped tight in his right arm. Hocknell. I most humbly suggest. It is noon. Henry Ayscough FROM THE ROOM outside there comes a murmur of voices. where he may now acknowledge to himself that he has given Yr Grace great hurt. from his humble servant. Of a sudden the voices outside cease. as it happens. I shall be before Your Grace very soon upon his reading of this dispatch. and will know in what sadness also and fear of having failed Your Grace. Alas. seemingly almost sullen now it is Wardley. and his to command.processtext. I beg Yr Grace to accept my most respectful sympathy for this unhappy conclusion upon inquiry. though in similar humble circumstances. and here must we resign ourselves to accept His great wisdom and mercy in such matters. yet knows she cannot and must not. a group waiting quietly for some event. slowly and as if by reluctant afterthought. and already she would rise. they listen. and ever the most sincere assurance of untiring diligence in all his affairs. unlike his poor brother. Man would of his nature know all. impassive. In the bosom of that great mystery.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. http://www. mostly female. which was to stand in Toad Lane outside. the others still may console the more. May it not be said that perchance he lives still in some foreign land.html but relieve Yr Grace of his presence. though the event of this twenty-ninth of February. She looks only at what he holds Page 293 . and would trouble Yr Grace no more? And advanced in hope that he reflects upon the injustice he has done. so preeminently enshrine his father's virtues). John Lee stands there. and the three men present. has taken place. in not bringing matters (despite most diligent effort) to more happy conclusion. a strange time to be abed. posing for a picture of a man at a loss. on her back. the one flower may wilt and fade. which is that He deems it often best and kindest to us mortals that we shall not know all. should Your Grace seek comfort. her face spent. and she cranes her head up. are but new admitted from where they were recently sent. as in the more earthly solace of his noble wife and noble son the Marquis (who doth. of those most charming ladies his daughters likewise. but it is God who decrees what shall or shall not be known. where none may break the secret of an incognito. a picture he does not lessen : by removing his hat. John Lee. Rebecca lies alone on the rough bed in the inner cellar. Now there is a shadow in the door. In closing now. not to delay dispatch. and shall in due time return to ask Your Grace's forgiveness? These lines are written in some haste.

secretly incredulous at such secular grace. which now cowers in a corner. their blue candour and their brisk truth.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter.' And now he steps forward and taking the new-born infant. His grave and awkward-peering face would seem to be about to announce the end of the world. as absurdly tight-bound as a parcel. in a tiny wicker cage.' She takes her eyes up from the child. half doubt. It opens its eyes for a long moment. then?' 'But a bird. still more in the sea than the air. husband. and her new soul. alas.' 'Aye.html cradled in his right arm. http://www.' And he stares still for a time at the bird. yet already there is a hint of azure. already near its end. both objective and subjective. 'Thee must hang it by the door.' She reaches up her free arm.. swaddled with cloth as the child. It is a goldfinch. 'What be it.' 'I prayed for thee. The appalling custom of swaddling was. timidly.' He turns and goes back into the other room. Now he holds it above the bed where she may see. of the young mother first faced with what has come from inside her . but not yet. She stares at it with that strangely paradoxical intensity. its face crinkled. The blacksmith-seer watches while the parcel is set beside her. and pulls the cloth away. to touch the minute' 'I thank thee. and smiles faintly. John Lee replaces his broad-brimmed hat.processtext. and which he holds by an osier handle. "Twill grow more tame. it shows the ghost of a wintry smile. and sing.. in the light. in them. A time will come when people shall remember those eyes. Page 294 . It is very plainly not divine. thee?' 'Most well. it seems almost stunned by the revelation of this wretched and shadowy world it is born into. obstinate. The brilliantly coloured little bird takes alarm and flutters against the brown bars. as if it means more to him than the face beside Rebecca's on the bed. halflove. Would thee see?' 'I would see. both certain and wondering. 'I have bought thee both a handsel. barely seven inches square. by afterthought. that was far from vacant. in both hands passes it down to the hands raised to take it. But then he swathes the cage in the cloth again and holds it down by his side. but then again. 'All is well. then returns at once holding a small square object. of vacant sky. among the poor. yet miraculously still alive. among the more emancipated (and thanks to the philosopher Locke). this long-drowned creature risen from the ocean depths.

carrying the cage. a preparatory paroxysm to crying. There is something of a wonderment in her eyes. my love. It begins to bawl. One sufficeth. this intruder into her world. It spake clear. or that she would have had describe even if she knew them. thee must obey. She looks down at the rough blanket that covers her. More love. staring up at him.' 'What else was given?' 'That she shall see the Lord Jesus come again.' The infant's features begin to contort. sunk within feeling.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. from by the cellar door: a silvery little tintinnabulation. 'Sleep.' 'We may call her both. http://www. Outside. this affirmation of her selfness no words she knows can describe. then the voice of the bird. piercing the sombre rooms like sunlight. And when thee wake. John Like so many seers. its mouth brought for a first time to the mother's breast.' ‘I deny no gift. the bawling has stopped.' 'Two names is vanity. thee'll know to obey. at this other. its flight-call. a quarter in forgiveness. Ann.' 'How a name?' 'Mary. A few seconds later.' He leaves. But William Blake is yet to come. he is blind to the present.' 'I promised the Lord she shall be Ann. He straightens. At last he stoops and lays a clumsy hand upon her shoulder.' 'Wife. 'More love. and for a moment or two more the young woman on the dark bed still stares down at the blanket. For a moment she opens those meek brown eyes and stares into a dark corner of the room. He shall be She.' For a moment she says nothing.' He stares down at her without answering. What the Lord has given. as if Page 295 . when the Lord Jesus come again. a quarter in blessing. He speaks in a low voice outside. we must receive.’ 'Yes. thee would. and the mother must know Her name. There is a silence. Now Rebecca looks down at the tiny creature in her arms. 'I tell thee.html 'The Lord has given me this last night a name for her. she bends and very gently kisses its pink and wrinkled forehead. and conscience-piercing also. perhaps something about the goldfinch. uncertain whether such levity deserves reprimand or is so far-fetched it may in these circumstances be ignored. at such a time. and a full half in sheer incomprehension.processtext. with her eyes closed. the low voices start again. It is not fit. We are not to deny the gift. Rebecca nurses.

It is very simple. on 29 February 1736.processtext. to reproduce known history. inimitable. and next to nothing of various other characters.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. nor made any effort to find them. I know nothing in reality of her he is. not an attempt. either in fact or in language. and can mean nothing. vive vi. this is a maggot. vive vum. They are here almost all invention beyond their names. and seems to be of two repeated phrases only. vive vum__ . She has begun a slow lullaby. To following some of what I take to be the underlying approach and purpose in his novels. I have the greatest respect for exact and scrupulously documented history. I believe her actual birth was two months before my story begins. who also come from real history. and there comes the barely perceptible sound of a hum. vive vum. but this exacting discipline is essentially a science.. I have mentioned Daniel Defoe (who died in 173 r) only once in these pages. vive vi.html someone stood there watching. and immensely different in its aims and methods from those of fiction. It may be that books and documents exist that might have told me more of them in historical terms than the little I know: I have consulted none.. in any case. which is poor recognition of the admiration and liking I have always felt for him. it is clear they are not rational words. I repeat. Page 296 . I happily confess. A Maggot is not at all meant to be in any direct imitation. Epilogue READERS WHO know something of what that Manchester baby was to become in the real world will not need telling how little this is a historical novel. not least because part of my life is (in a very humble way) devoted to it. the baby lies stilled. http://www. After a while she begins slightly to rock. then closes them again. _Vive vi. such as Lacy and Wardley.

and the influence of the other kind of enlightenment. a hill then outside the city of Bristol. It was as if they had all been blind or (as many of the miners truly had) living in darkness till then. At heart people like Ann were revolutionaries. Shaker means little more than a furniture style and an ultra-puritanism superficially akin to the asceticism of some monastic orders (such as the Cistercian) from the opposite religious extreme. and their founder. its striking feminism. its fanaticism. in its strange rituals and marvellously inventive practical life. We novelists also demand a far-fetched faith. Orthodox theologians have always despised the sect's doctrinal naivety. I imagine. that is. and spoke. its foundations disturbed. its communism. http://www. its superstition.processtext. others were so disturbed and moved they fell into a catatonic trance. a dissatisfied yet ordained priest in the Church of England stood on Kingsdown. the intellectual (and middle-class) enlightenment the _siecle de lumieres__ is famous for. Only a very few years after she was born. in its richly metaphorical language and imaginative use of dancing and music. Nor do I think any better of this same trait in many other religions. I find it one of the most fascinating . orthodox communists. Something in Shaker thought and theology (not least in its holding that a Holy Trinity that has no female component cannot be holy).episodes in the long history of Protestant Dissent. with its spurious Madison Avenue techniques and general loathsome conservatism in politics. had an age of outspoken dissent (and self-discovery) in the 1640s and 1650s. has always seemed to me to adumbrate the relation of fiction to reality. unsullied by stock belief. It seems almost always unerringly based on the worst. can 'work'. historically. in the April of 1739. I suspect we owe quite as much to all those incoherent sobs and tears and ecstasies of the illiterate as to the philosophers of mind and the sensitive artists. such cathartic phenomena are now both anthropologically and psychologically well understood. consisting mainly of miners and their families. orthodox priests. of which Ann Lee was the founder. could express this painful breaking of the seed of the self from the hard soil of an irrational and tradition-bound society . such as Islam. To be sure they were very rough. Ann Lee's came late.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. an insidious supporter of whatever is retrograde in contemporary thought and politics. and thereby denies the very essence of Jesus himself. one with the very first Christians of all. This is not only for social and historical reasons. orthodox capitalists. learned tradition. Unorthodox religion was the only vehicle by which the vast majority. England had already. almost in spite of. Ann's vision was more thoroughgoing than Wesley's. we too need a bewildering degree of metaphorical understanding from our readers before the truths behind our tropes can be easy to work upon.a practical vision of what was wrong with their world. Can we wonder the new-born ego (whose adolescence we call the Romantic Age) often chose means to survive and to express itself as irrational as those that restrained it? Now I hate modern evangelism. Many of his listeners began to weep. But on Kingsdown something more than the speaker's charisma was involved. But what happened with John Wesley (the man above) and Ann Lee and their like in the eighteenth century is quite different: an emotional enlightenment beside. this one was partly written out of a very considerable affection and sympathy for the United Society of Believers in Christ's Second Appearing.html A convinced atheist can hardly dedicate a novel to a form of Christianity. but perhaps above all to the fact that she was uneducated. a fact that we may attribute in part to her sex. rather than formally preached. its abhorrence of the carnal. to a large and happenstance gathering of the Bristol poor. To most people now. better known as the Shakers. of course. None the less. most backward side of Christianity. Quite simply his audience was being given light. who were neither philosophers nor artists. illiterate. quite often seemingly absurd in relation to normal reality. and orthodox males.and a society not so irrational it did not very well know how much it depended on not seeing its traditions questioned. Page 297 .and proleptic .her genius for images . They had. orthodox sensualists. Wesley by his energy and transparent strength of conviction. Ann Lee in her obstinate (and immensely brave) determination and her poetry .

as naive religiosity. she was to marry (Abraham Stanley. to believe. It was almost as if Ann Lee and the early Shakers foresaw that. One of the saddest ironies in all religious history is that we should now so admire and value Shaker architecture and furniture. that spirit that was in them at the beginning. and would-be conforming matrix. the spirit drawings. another blacksmith) and to bear four children by him. only too plainly shows. their remedies hopelessly unattainable today. I suspect. our most precious legacy to the world. would one day rule this world and threaten to destroy it. In Manchester the real Ann Lee was first to be a mill-girl. since all new religion begins in dissent. But in essence it is an eternal biological or evolutionary mechanism..Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. Much of both the fixed dogma and the practices of the Society in its gathered communities was developed after Ann's death in 1784. but behind all (not least in the great revival of the i 840s) lie the seeds of Ann's very special personality. and at least partly a product of the sexual abstinence for which the Society was famous (and whose dangers it was well aware of. in terms of the 'conversation' and other rituals it evolved to compensate for that deprivation). adapted as in a plant or animal to cope with one set of conditions. and dimmed and adulterated their fundamental and highly personal example and force. the founding of a more humane society . then fur-cutter for a hatter. its rules too radical. before the organized business of religious conversion and gaining adherents en masse came. its faith too plain. the 'dictated' songs and music. The growth. established belief and religion. sanity and self-control. that is. an inward tyranny as life-stultifying as the tyrannies they first tried to end. accompanied by only a tiny handful of fellow-believers. all of whom died young. then a cook in an infirmary. yet that of Northern Europe and America is. as always. We associate it especially with religion. as in my view not only the United. .processtext. for more personal wealth and possession. in all ways from totalitarian tyranny and brutal force to media manipulation and cultural hegemony. into the one thing that excuses an escape from such powerful social gods. is doomed when a new set appears. for twentieth-century Adam and Eve. or fled from. when religious belief was the great metaphor. maturity and decline of the United Society all took place in America. The Shakers had purely English roots.what they would command and oblige us. the universal greed in each for more money. merely to meet the chance of an earlier society. but Western society as a whole. one day to breed a narrow-minded bigotry. It is an aspiration. all that is conveyed in 'more love'. 'Gathered' or community Shakerism is now virtually extinct. Yet for me something else in it does not die. fall on our knees like Mies van der Rohe before the Hancock Round Barn. Dissent is a universal human phenomenon. in those early French Prophets whose names I have Wardley cite. Her husband deserted her almost at once there. in the society and world they had to inhabit may seem to us quaint and utopian. Yet something haunts the more serious side of the United Society's life that cannot be so easily dismissed. by disciples like Joseph Meacham and Lucy Wright. and for several years her 'family' were harried as much as in England. but Page 298 . She set out for America in i774.. a determination to escape mere science.html Their efforts (especially John Wesley's) were. A historically evolved outward form. But I speak here of that first fuse. and in our own age more than ever before. convention. not something that was needed once. then certainly Mammon. mere reason. What the Shakers 'crossed'. yet totally reject the faith and way of life that made these things. A similar wild and suspect religiosity may be found before Ann's time. for many things beside religion. if not Antichrist. the trance states. It is easy enough now to dismiss much of the aftermath of her memory. but were very soon persecuted out of England. in a refusal to believe what those in power would have us believe . or condemned. Our present world is as deaf as poor Dick to Anne's appeal for simplicity. It is needed always.

too self-tyrannized. and by far more than Christ. I have long concluded that established religions of any kind are in general the supreme example of forms created to meet no longer existing conditions. too tired. Page 299 . too selfish and too multiple. We grow too clever now to change. the extreme. as in the Greek gift at Troy. In so much else we have developed immeasurably from the eighteenth century. stale and hidebound they later become. its almost divine maggot. but the lost spirit. When excess becomes synonymous with success. in the courage and imagination of Mother Ann Lee's word. put by nature upon our twentieth-century consciousness of and obsession with self. It is betrayed in the way we have twisted and debased the word (as our sense of individual self has grown) to its modern sense. or at least adapted to a new world. too frightened. in Shaker terminology. This is the hidden price. with their central plain question . Least of all do I deny (what novelist could?) that founding stage or moment in all religions. her Logos. too indifferent to others. non-mediocrity.we have not progressed one inch. http://www.html some at least of the questions they asked and the challenges they flung seem to me still unanswered. too pledged to our own convenience.what morality justifies the flagrant injustice and inequality of human society? . I mourn not the outward form. however blind. But its past necessity I do not deny. which saw a superseded skeleton must be destroyed.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. If I were asked what the present and future world could best lose or jettison for its own good.processtext. and still so exalt excess. too dominated by the Devil's great I. a society is doomed. I should have no hesitation: all established religion. A species cannot fill its living space to absurd excess in number. One major reason is that we have committed the cardinal sin of losing the old sense of mediocrity: that of a wise and decent moderation.

processtext.html Page 300 .com/abclit.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter. http://www.