hang'd if I do!” snapp'd Master Carter.
“Then be hang'd, sir, but all the town shall hear to-morrow of the frog and the pool! No, sir: I am off to see the world——
“'Says he: “This is better than moping in school!”'”
“Your Highnesses,” pleaded the unhappy man, “if, to please you, I sang that idiocy, which, for fifty years now, I had forgotten——”
“Exc'll'nt shong,” says Prince Rupert, waking up; “less have't again!”
To be short, ten o'clock was striking from St. Mary's spire when, with a prince on either side of me, and thirty guineas in my pocket (which was all the loose gold he had), I walked forth from Master Carter's door. To make up the deficiency, their highnesses had insisted on furnishing me with a suit made up from the simplest in their joint wardrobes—riding-boots, breeches, buff-coat, sash, pistols, cloak, and feather'd hat, all of which fitted me excellently well. By the doors of Christ Church, before we came to the south gate, Prince Rupert, who had been staggering in his walk, suddenly pull'd up, and leaned against the wall.
“Why—odd's my life—we've forgot a horse for him!” he cried.
“Indeed, your Highness,” I answered, “if my luck holds the same, I shall find one by the road.” (How true this turned out you shall presently hear.)
There was no difficulty at the gate, where the sentry recogniz'd the two princes and open'd the wicket at once. Long after it had clos'd behind me, and I stood looking back at Oxford towers, all bath'd in the winter moonlight, I heard the two voices roaring away up the street:
“It was a frog leap'd into a pool—”
At length they died into silence; and, hugging the king's letter in my breast, I stepped briskly forward on my travels.
CHAPTER IV. — I TAKE THE ROAD.
So puffed up was I by the condescension of the two princes, and my head so busy with big thoughts, that not till I was over the bridges and climbing the high ground beyond South Hincksey, with a shrewd northeast wind at my back, could I spare time for a second backward look. By this, the city lay spread at my feet, very delicate and beautiful in a silver network, with a black clump or two to southward, where the line of Bagley trees ran below the hill. I pulled out the letter that Anthony had given me. In the moonlight the brown smear of his blood was plain to see, running across the superscription:
“To our trusty and well beloved Sir Ralph Hopton, at our Army in Cornwall—these.”
'Twas no more than I look'd for; yet the sight of it and the king's red seal, quicken'd my step as I set off again. And I cared not a straw for Dr. Kettle's wrath on the morrow.
Having no desire to fall in with any of the royal outposts that lay around Abingdon, I fetched well away to the west, meaning to shape my course for Faringdon, and so into the great Bath road. 'Tis not my purpose to describe at any length my itinerary, but rather to reserve my pen for those more moving events that overtook me later. Only in the uncertain light I must have taken a wrong turn to the left (I think near Besselsleigh) that led me round to the south: for, coming about daybreak to a considerable town, I found it to be, not Faringdon, but Wantage. There was no help for it, so I set about enquiring for a bed. The town was full, and already astir with preparations for cattle-fair; and neither at the “Bear” nor the “Three Nuns” was there a bed to be had. But at length at the “Boot” tavern—a small house, I found one just vacated by a couple of drovers, and having cozen'd the chambermaid to allow me a clean pair of sheets, went upstairs very drowsily, and in five minutes was sleeping sound.
I awoke amid a clatter of voices, and beheld the room full of womankind.
“He's waking,” said one.
“Tis a pity, too, to be afflicted thus—and he such a pretty young man!”
This came from the landlady, who stood close, her hand shaking my shoulder roughly.
“What's amiss?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.
“Why, 'tis three of the afternoon.”
“Then I'll get up, as soon as you retire.”
“Lud! we've been trying to wake thee this hour past; but 'twas sleep—sleep!”
“I'll get up, I tell you.”
“Thought thee'd ha' slept through the bed and right through to the floor,” said the chambermaid by the door, tittering.
“Unless you pack and go, I'll step out amongst you all!”
Whereat they fled with mock squeals, calling out that the very thought made them blush: and left me to dress.
Downstairs I found a giant's breakfast spread for me, and ate the hole, and felt the better for it: and thereupon paid my scot, resisting the landlady's endeavor to charge me double for the bed, and walked out to see the town.
“Take care o' thysel',” the chambermaid bawled after me; “nor flourish thy attainments abroad, lest they put thee in a show!”
Dark was coming on fast: and to my chagrin (for I had intended purchasing a horse) the buying and selling of the fair were over, the cattle-pens broken up, and the dealers gather'd round the fiddlers, ballad singers, and gingerbread stalls. There were gaming booths, too, driving a brisk trade at Shovel-board, All-fours, and Costly Colors; and an eating tent, whence issued a thick reek of cooking and loud rattle of plates. Over the entrance, I remember, was set a notice: “Dame Alloway from Bartholomew Fair. Here are the best geese, and she does them as well as ever she did.” I jostled my way along, keeping tight hold on my pockets, for fear of cut-purses; when presently, about halfway down the street, there arose the noise of shouting. The crowd made a rush toward it; and in a minute I was left alone, standing before a juggler who had a sword halfway down his throat, and had to draw it out again before he could with any sufficiency curse the defection of his audience; but offered to pull out a tooth for me if I wanted it.
I left him, and running after the crowd soon learn'd the cause of this tumult.
'Twas a meagre old rascal that someone had charged with picking pockets: and they were dragging him off to be duck'd. Now in the heart of Wantage the little stream that runs through the town is widen'd into a cistern about ten feet square, and five in depth, over which hung a ducking stool for scolding wives. And since the townspeople draw their water from this cistern, 'tis to be supposed they do not fear the infection. A long beam on a pivot hangs out over the pool, and to the end is a chair fasten'd; into which, despite his kicks and screams, they now strapped this poor wretch, whose grey locks might well have won mercy for him.
Souse! he was plunged: hauled up choking and dripping: then—just as he found tongue to shriek—souse! again.
'Twas a dismal punishment; and this time they kept him under for a full half minute. But as the beam was lifted again, I heard a hullaballoo and a cry—
“The
