The Crown Jewel A Drama in Five Acts |
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 | The Crown Jewel |  |
Scene 2.
A chamber in the Castle discovers Bertrand, Notary, Appraiser, and others.1st Cit.
A rare old wine, this, Master Steward. It
takes kindly to one, on the top of the pasty.
Ber.
No need to be sparing of it. Our cellar is rife and
will bleed freely. You are all welcome, sweet sirs, so that
you drink enough. No heel-taps, recollect—
2nd Cit.
Your master the Baron is, by account, a fine
old brick. Pity Zachary has his clutch hereabout! Such
liquor to stagnate in his keeping! Saints prevent it!
Ber.
You say truly. Fill up your goblet, friend. The
Lord Soartes is no niggard host and, thank heaven! hath
gold enough at command to appease the scurvy money-lender.
Ap.
A sudden turn of the wheel! Hath he found a
mine on his estate? 'Tis excellent wine I allow, and
these faggots blaze briskly; yet were the ready at hand,
as you affirm, it would be common thrift in his lordship to
patch the ceiling overhead and give yon grim pannellings
a help to hold it together.
Ber.
The craziest rafters are likliest to betray treasure-pots,
Master Appraiser!
Not.
Oho! so your master hath hit upon his redemption-money
in this way. 'Tis of consideration, and may bring
a trifle into our hands.
Ber.
Not so fast, sir Notary. Your head calculates to
fee the fist with wind-coins. Come, come, pass the
flagon. The wine is good as gold to those it loves, and
good wine loves like a Christian—enemies as well as
friends. Here comes the Baron's fledgling—a sweet-tempered
youth in his own way. There's a cloud on his
brow, I reckon, so be advised and avoid argument with
him. His mode of dealing with contradiction is somewhat
summary.
(Enter Gonseres.)
Gon.
Wine—faugh! it smells of puppies. Let
Curs drink it.
The very fumes do choke and stifle me.
Here, Bertrand, hand me of thy special flask,
A brimming bumper—good, another—good—
[Drinks.
One more. This is the beverage of gods!
Your health in't, sirs.
Not.
Pardon me, young master. Wine like this is not
to be belied and cast out of credit, so readily. 'Tis dishonour
done to thy lord's cellar to refuse it the preference.
[Aside.
Gon.
The paltry knave.
Is written on his face. Friend, an advice!
Don't meddle with folks' tastes, unless 'tis meant
To thrust thyself into the heart of quarrel.
Counsel and prose are poisoners at a feast,
They choke its wit, drop wormwood in its wine,
Its lights extinguish, freeze its promised warmth
And so transform it to a funeral.
Fill up his glass. 'Tis charity to melt
So dry a nature—give him swill to th'ears.
[Exit.
Ber.
Yield me a judgment, Master Notary. My warning
was not without reason? Yet, in honest truth,
bringing experience to bear, you met with most lenient
dealing. The foreboding of daggers was evident; but the
upshot, not ungracious, considering. Hold yourself fortunate,
my friend.
Not.
A very scape-grace, spoiled and sodden with indulgence.
Ap.
A bully, in every facet of the term!
1st Cit.
A mouthing upstart!
Not.
The Baron's fledgling you termed him?
Ber.
So report saith. The paternal cross, I allow, is
charily developed. It is betrayed, notwithstanding, on
occasions. Put wings to the flagon, gentlemen.
(Enter Soartes and Zachary.)
My Lord Soartes—
Soar.
Our worthy steward,
Hath all the duties of a host performed
To your content, good friends, I make no question.
Come, Master Zachary, be prevailed upon
To taste our wine and pledge these jovial cits,
Your followers, by whom our humble board
Is graced and honoured.
Zach.
This prodigality, my lord, is no matter of mine.
You will have your jest, although you fall on the point of
it. Your health Baron! and yours, gentlemen. A day of
grace is but reasonable, yet by the beard of Isaac, the
goodness of the grape almost tempts me to descend to the
wine cellar and lay instant embargo upon its contents.
Ber.
God bless you sir, and you have no fear of the rats.
Why! at this moment, they are out at foray in droves—
huge-whiskered, ferocious looking rascals that have both
tooth and stomach for anything, and were a lion itself
fool-hardy enough to face them, would fly down his throat
and disembowel him, before he could get his roar out.
Besides, there is a nest of adders in the vault and a ghost
—a white ghost—sir.
Zach.
Quite an attractive place. Let me have the key,
by all means.
Soar.
Oblige him with it, Bertrand.
Zach.
Nay, nay, my lord, I have no design to destrain
your wine-casks so unceremoniously. This old man's
fiction is befitting his own lack of courage. To-morrow
at mid-day, we shall proceed to take our inventory, and
should that relief you so confidently look for make
its appearance in the mean-time, it will give me infinite
satisfaction to throw up all claims and obligations at
present held by me over your lordship's estate, as well
as to rid these walls of our very unpleasant company.
You and your followers I have made welcome,
And the best fare my frugal house affords,
Placed at your bidding. Had I so resolved,
This castle might have stood a lengthy seige
Against a regiment of creditors.
I could have filled the fosse—the bridge withdrawn,
Assorted the portcullis; to my aid
All the contrivances of bold defence
Invoked, and cast defiance in your teeth.
Instead of this, my gates are thrown ajar,
My hand extended. All I have made yours,
Before the strict formalities of law
Have so declared it; yet, while you partake,
You disallow my hospitality.
The grave assurance of the means at hand
T'appease your claims, is held in question;
I sue for the brief respite of a week
Taxed with the entertainment of these cits,
Yet this, the paltriest of favours, you
Deny me.
Zach.
My Lord Soartes. To-day with you repeats the
speech of yesterday, and the yesterday of your plaint and
entreaties is not a recent one. Few words need pass
betwixt us. To-morrow I have named—to-morrow it
shall be. Master Appraiser, take note of it and have a
care that your head be cool and your hand steady. This
wine, I fear, works mischief with both. The blame be
mine!
Soar.
Bertrand, it is strange, my niece
Hath not returned. Yourself apprised me
That in the Lady Ella's company
At noon, she had set out to enjoy the shade,
In precincts of our park. It has of late
Become her idle pleasure so to ramble;
This I am bent to check and have despatched
Gonseres to compel her presence hither,
Without delay. Seven hours have since elapsed.
To flinch from his instructions is unlike
The worthy youth.
Ber.
Gonseres, my lord, has been here; indeed, he had
just quitted the hall on your entrance. In a moody
humour, I allow, he was, and tossed off a glass or two of
strong waters with little ceremony. The Ladye Meranie's
name was not mentioned by him. I noted that he carried
no rapier and his attire as well as his spirits was somewhat
discomposed. Had the weapon usually worn by him been
at hand, this gentleman, I am persuaded, would have had
reason to feel uncomfortable.
Soar.
I must see the youth. My niece
No doubt has to her chamber hied and shuns
Her guardian's presence.
[Exit Soartes.
Not.
It is only reasonable to wish myself safely outside
of these walls. Old Zachary hath a bold tongue, but I
question that it would wag so freely, were the page,
instead of the master, to come across it. The Baron
Soartes appears suddenly to have made up his mind to
something; and I don't like the look of matters, by any
means.
Ber.
You a lawyer too! that would hug the devil himself
in the shape of a client, and hast laid claim, no doubt,
to a good slice of the invisible territory down stairs.
Come fill up and pass the tankard! It has a habit of
halting at your end of the board, much to our prejudice at
this extremity.
Not.
I would rather that we marched direct to our
night quarters, comrades; and you Master Appraiser,
have a care of yourself. Our employer in this business, as
you well know, is a man of his word and to forfeit the
goodwill he hath shewn us by an act of indiscretion will
not say much for our sagacity.
Ap.
I have neither heartache nor headache, Master
Notary, and you have both, But if good-night is to be
the word—pass the tankard for a parting gulp.
[Exeunt omnes.
| The Crown Jewel | |