 | CHAPTER III. Tales of the good woman |  |
3. CHAPTER III.
The party then one and all, went to work with
axe and spade, and soon the adjacent wood resounded
with the strokes of lusty labourers and
soft handed cavaliers. Master Lavender attached
himself to Smith, being resolved to recommend
himself by a huge day's work. He drew on
to the president, as follows:—
“Look ye, Captain Smith, though I despise
every thing useful, as unbecoming a man of fashion
and figure, yet being partly convinced by
the sound logic of the worthy Master Hardin, that
it is no irretrievable dishonour to work when one
can't help it, I hereby avow my compliance.”
“Well said, and well resolved, Master Lavender,”
replied the other.
“But by this hand,” rejoined Lavender, “I will
have it clearly understood that it is not thy valour
but his discretion, that hath laid prostrate my opposition,
even as I mean, by the might of this good
arm, to lay prostrate yon high tree.”
He then began to chop with great vigour; but
presently laid down his axe, pulled off his glove,
and looking at his hand, exclaimed—
“'Fore heaven, a blister! Hear, or rather see
this, ye bucks and bloods of merry London! ye
loungers at the play; ye smokers of the best
Virginia; ye tavern lovers of the first quality, Lavender's
hands are blistered! and blistered be his
tongue, if he doth not from this time henceforth
and forever, consign wood cutting to Pluto, Proserpine,
Ops, Mops, Chops, and all the rest of
them.”
“Come, come,” said Smith, “more work and
less swearing. You know the law, Master Lavender.”
Lavender then proceeded to chop a few more
strokes, and threw down the axe, exclaiming—
“'Sblood! Captain Smith, I'll not strike another
blow, if thou hangest me incontinently on
this high tree, which I disdain to cut down,
split me!”
“Why then the law must have its course,”
replied the other. “Layton! come hither with
Burras.”
“I care not,” exclaimed Lavender, “let law do
its worst, and gospel too; I swear by mine ancestors,
I won't work, and I will swear, 'slid!”
The two men now came up. “Take this refractory
gentleman to Justice Knapp, and desire his
worship to inflict the penalty of hard swearing
and idleness.”
As they led him off, towards the seat of justice,
Master Lavender communed with himself in this
wise: “Now do I begin to smell cold water, a
thing I have abhorred, like unto a mad dog, ever
since I came to years of discretion. It is the very
antipodes to warming, generous wine, that liquid
whetstone of the dull spirits. Peasant,” turning
to Layton, “beware of me; I shall foam at the
mouth, and bite desperately, at the first pollution
of this execrable beverage. Lead on, plebeian
base.”
We will now carry the reader to the seat of justice,
where sat, in all the dignity of magistracy,
Mr. Justice Knapp, who having been appointed
the Company of Gentlemen Adventurers in London,
considered himself almost independent of the
president and council of James Town. His worship
was a man of moderate height, and great breadth
of beam, with a waggish mouth, little mischievous,
twinkling eyes; and, if the truth must be told,
had little of the gravity, and less of the honesty
becoming a judge. If a jest or a pun came across
him in the middle of a most weighty cause, he was
sure to give it utterance, and it was the general
opinion, that he felt a hundred times more pleasure
in making the jury laugh, than in convincing
their understandings. Since the scarcity which
had afflicted the company, he was the only fat
man in James Town; and while every body else
was waxing pale and lean, his worship continued
to wear his usual florid complexion, while he increased
in bulk every day. Whether he lived,
like some provident animals, on his superfluity of
fat, we cannot say; but the general opinion was,
that Master Justice had some secret hoard, which
supplied his wants, and kept up his rotundity.
When reproached with this unseemly jollity of
person, he was accustomed to pass it off by warning
the people against a lean justice. “When
you see me growing thin,” quoth he, “beware of
me; for, by'r lady, if I once get fairly an hungered,
I'll hang you all; without the least remorse.
scarecrow in a corn field.”
In hot weather, the Justice was accustomed to
administer the laws in the open air, as he said, in
imitation of the patriarchs, whom he held in great
honour. His favourite seat, which he called the
Woolsack, was the stump of a vast sycamore,
which had been cut down to make room for the
city, and which in the morning and middle of the
day, was protected from the sun by the neighbouring
forest trees. He had taken his place, the morning
in which Master Lavender was apprehended
in the manner aforesaid, and was communing with
himself, something to the following effect:—
“Now shall the commonalty behold the melancholy
of the magistrate, and taste the fury of a
citizen in office. I'll reform the new world, and
make it an example to the old. The lord chancellor
shall call me brother, and the king uncle.
There shall be no drinking, but to my profit; and
no laws broken, but with my consent. If a
suitor thrusts a bribe into my hand, I will thrust it
into my pocket, and quiet my conscience by doing
justice thereafter, upon some poor rogue, with a
good cause and no money. The world shall now
see your true personification of justice. In one
hand, I'll hold the scales to weigh bribes; and in
the other, will I brandish the fiery sword, to drive
away all beggarly suitors who have the impudence
to appear before me with empty pockets.
of justice, I will incontinently shut both eyes and
ears, to all tedious arguments—by falling asleep.
—Simon!”
“Please your honour, I'm proximate,” replied
Simon, coming out of the adjoining building.
Simon—but it is unnecessary to be minute in describing
him. He was one of those odd, rusty,
indefatigable creatures, that we so often see about
the skirts of the law, who do a vast deal of
drudgery, for little or nothing, in the hope of one
day, by dint of the patience of Job, the meekness
of Moses, and about as much wisdom as Solomon
threw away on a single proverb, being entitled to
exact fees, and tack Esquire to their names.
“Simon,” quoth the Justice, “are there any culprits,
forthcoming? I must make an example of
some one soon, or by'r lady, the commonalty will
lose all respect for mine office. Answer me, Simon;
thou hast permission to speak when justice
is silent.”
“None that I wot of, your worship,” quoth
Simon.
“None? why 'sfoot! I may as well throw away
the true scales of justice, and take to the false
weights of the grocers for a livelihood. My fees
wont maintain a camel in the desert. By my
faith, Simon, if these villains wont break the old
laws, we must make new ones to entrap them. It
would be villainous, were justice to starve here in
for her in the old. When criminals are
scarce, we must multiply the statutes, as the
fowler limes more twigs in case of necessity.”
“Just so, your worship. But now I think of it,
your worship will have business soon. There is
a man charged with shooting an Indian, and they
threaten war, unless he is given up.”
“Hath the villain advanced thee any weighty
arguments, whereby justice may become blind to
his enormities?”
“None, your worship; he is a poor blacksmith,
and dealeth not in the precious metals.”
“Then his doom is fixed. Poverty is proof
presumptive. If he is honest, he might be trusted
for the amount of a bribe; or if industrious, he
might earn one. He shall be given up an he were
lame Vulcan himself. But who have we here?
Marry! this is not Dole, the blacksmith.”
One of the town constables now entered, hauling
in a worthy, called Tankard, who cannot be
said to have belonged to any profession, or to
have had any special business on hand, save that
of tippling. When asked what he did for a living,
his reply was, that he lived upon his means; and
if interrogated as to his residence, he would answer,
that he slept at the sign of the Moon and
Seven Stars. The constable presented him as
having been caught drinking, against the statute,
replied, at the Bottle Spouting Beer.
“What! tippling, and not at my bar,” quoth
the justice, aside. “Bring the culprit to the bar
of justice. Caitiff! how durst thou drink at the
Bottle Spouting Beer?”
“Please your royal majesty,” replied Tankard,
“I drank of the Bottle Spouting Beer, because
they had no glasses; and I drank the beer, because—because
there was nothing stronger to be
had for love or money. Please your royal justiceship,
I was overtaken with liquor.”
“As how, insolent varlet?”
“The liquor ran down my throat and overtook
me.”
“It did, did it? Then hear the fiat of justice,
which never fails to overtake those who are overtaken
after thy fashion. Thou shalt be taken
from the place where thou art, to the place from
whence thou camest, and from thence to the river
side, there to be ducked, ducked, ducked, till you
are sober, sober, sober, and may the Lord have
mercy upon the fishes, for thy nose will go near to
parboil them. Away with him Master Constable.
Ah! here comes Master Dole, and Master Newcut,
the tailor, against whom I have an old grudge,
for spoiling my doublet. 'Fore heaven, but this
Dole is an old offender. I can tell by his phiznomy.
The pillory, the stocks, and the whipping
post, to say nothing of the gallows, are imprinted
Who is this monster of iniquity? if justice
were not blind, I'd swear it was Dole, the blacksmith.”
“Please your worship,” quoth Simon, “this is
he accused of shooting a savage! They demand
him to be given up to condign punishment.”
“Hast any thing to say, culprit, to blind the
law, and stop the ears of justice?”
“Please your worship,” quoth Dole.
“Be quiet, Dole,” interrupted his worship.
“Thou art condemned upon the confession of thy
countenance. I have been twice under sheriff,
and know villainy by instinct. I have taken a
confession of guilt before now, from such a face,
verbatim, and never missed a syllable.”
“But please your honour,” cried Dole, “I acted
in self offence. I am as innocent as your worship.”
“Silence, culprit, none of your odious comparisons,”
rejoined the Justice, “if thou art innocent,
then thy face bearest false witness against
thee, and that's flat perjury. If thou art honest,
then thy countenance is an arrant cheat, and that's
just the same thing. It's all over with thee, Dole.
But having made up my mind as to thy guilt, I am
willing to hear what thou hast to say for thyself,
Master Dolefull.”
“Please your worship,” said Dole, “I've a proposal
to make, for the good of the colony.”
“I am placable, what is't marry?”
“Here now is Master Newcut, the tailor,” rejoined
Dole, “as innocent a man as myself, except
in the way of his profession. The colony can't do
without a blacksmith, and has no use for a tailor.
Now I would humbly propose in all christian charity,
as these savages are not very particular, that
you would worshipfully consider the propriety of
selecting Master Newcut for this honour.”
“Well argued, Dole,” cried the Justice, “and
with astonishing discretion. We can do without
a tailor, and we can't do without a blacksmith.
Besides, your tailor being but the fractional part
of a man, it will be defrauding the copper-coloured
villains of a good portion of their revenge.”
“But your worship, I never killed so much as the
ninth part of a man in all my born days,” cried
Newcut.
“Be quiet tailor!” rejoined Master Knapp,
“thou diest for the good of thy country; or if
thou livest, will be all thy life a perfect gentleman,
for these copper-coloured caitiffs, wear no
doublets. Shalt have a statue, with a needle for a
sword, a thimble for a helmet, and a goose for thy
plume.”
“But please your worship,” cried the alarmed
tailor,—
“Stitch up his mouth if he utters the ninth
part of a murmur,” interrupted the worthy magistrate,
“away culprit!”
Poor Newcut was accordingly taken away, but
here, that Captain Smith, on hearing a statement
of the affair, arrested the course of justice,
and ordered that neither the tailor nor the blacksmith
should be given up.
Scarcely was this most exemplary decision pronounced,
when Layton and Burras arrived with
Master Lavender in custody. “Ah! Master Lavender,
as I live,” quoth the Justice, mentally,
“If I don't tickle him for his scurvy jests upon my
doublet, which that rascal tailor, murdered by
stitches an inch apart, I'm no true justice. Why
how now, delicate Master Lavender?”
“And how now, fat justice Knapp,” replied Lavender,
“does the law keep thee still in that jolly
rotundity even in the midst of plague, pestilence,
and starvation. If it doth, may the catchpole
catch my undutiful guardians, for not bringing me
up to the trade of a Justice.”
“All's one for that,” quoth Knapp, “bringing a
man up to justice, is only a substitute for bringing
him up for one.”
“O villanous dull jest, worthy a dull, round,
plump Justice, the very inspiration of small beer,”
rejoined the other. “Dost live by sucking thy
paws, Justice, thou art so plump and round?”
“Plump and round! 'Fore heaven, if I am fat,
'tis past all ancient miracles, and must be the
blessed fruits of a good conscience. May I never
eat nor smell roast beef again, if I have tasted any
since the rats committed trespass on our store
house.”
“Right, old Minos,” rejoined Master Lavender,
“for Minus thou art in discretion, to say nothing
of honesty. And yet, on reflection, thou art not
right. Thy bread should have been made of
dried sharks' flesh, and then according to the immutable
principles of justice, one shark might have
preyed upon another.”
“Respect the majesty of justice,” cried Knapp,
who felt a little sore at this thrust, “respect the
majesty of justice, or the majesty of justice will
have no respect for thee. What is his crime,
Master Layton?”
To which Layton replied, “Hard swearing, for
which the president recommends the application
of cold water.”
“Say no more,” exclaimed Master Justice, with
great alacrity, “he hath bayed me in mine own
proper territory; I'll cool his courage i'faith. Simon,
administer.”
Thus instructed, Master Simon, assisted by the
constable, brought a large pitcher of cold water,
and proceeded to tie the right arm of Lavender, to
the bough of a tree, in an angle sufficient to give
the water an easy descent towards the shoulder,
which done, they were proceeding to the ceremony
of libation, when Master Lavender suddenly
exclaimed—
“Stay a moment. Simon, art thou a tanner?”
“A tanner,” quoth Simon, indignantly, “no
verily, a dealer in parchment, not leather. His
worship's vade mecum, that prompts his judgment,
refines his discretion, and writes his commitments.
To sum up all, a limb of the law.”
“Well then, Cousin Simon,” quoth the other,
“if thou art a limb of the law, I beseech thee in
Christian bowels, to suffer thyself to be tied to this
limb of a tree in my place. 'Twill be limb to
limb, and by virtue of this ablution, thou wilt
doubtless become in good time, a thrifty sapling
of jurisprudence. What sayest, cousin, is there
not a congruity in this?”
“Servant, Master Lavender,” rejoined Simon,
I decline hearing any farther argument on the
matter.”
“Dost thou!” cried the irritated beau, “thou
pander to the dull wits of a knavish justice; thou
hanger on at the quarter sessions; thou inciter of
old termagants, to fathom the bottomless pit of
the law; father of strife, son of a dried sheepskin,
and cousin german to the pillory, away! thou
piece of musty parchment.”
“What!” asked Mr. Justice, who had been a
little lethargic for a few moments, “what says the
culprit, is he refractory, Simon?”
“He reproves the majesty of justice in the person
of her representative, one degree removed,”
answered Simon.
“Tie him up then incontinently; the beau to
the bough, and sprinkle this unchristian railer. I
dare say it will be the first time he ever underwent
the ceremony.”
“Moderate, moderate, most precipitate Justice,”
exclaimed Lavender, pulling off his coat, “spare
my coat, 'tis of the first London cut, at least it
was so, I wont say how long ago; and made by a
most orthodox tailor, whose measures were all cut
from a parchment folio of St. George of Cappadocia.
It standeth in no special need of sprinkling.
There it lies, and eke my glove, which
latter I do throw down in utter defiance of the
president, the justice, the clerk, the constable,
and all those wicked followers of the law, who entrap
those whom the law followeth.”
Without more ado, they tied up his arm and
proceeded to pour the cold water into his sleeve,
during the which while, he exclaimed from time
to time—
“Pour away thou ugly water-god, thou unseemly
Triton of the pitcher; and now since I
have been thus polluted by the saucy fingers of the
law, and dishonoured by wicked libations of cold
water—O—h—h! who would have thought the
rascally liquid was so cold—let my wrath be
without bounds. Pour I say, while I take a few
pitchers of swearing. May bribes and presents
fail thee, thou half starved justice. May'st thou
be speedily detected in taking a double fee for
May the serpents crawl out of thy hollow seat of
justice, and bite thy solid seat of honour.” Here
the justice looked into the stump a little alarmed.
“Thou unjust Justice. And to sum up all,
may'st thou live a thousand years on dried sturgeon,
and dream every night of the flesh pots of
Egypt; thou bowelless magistrate.”
“What a remorseless villain!” exclaimed Justice
Knapp. “Give him another pitcher for the
sake of the flesh pots of Egypt. The unfeeling
monster has awakened the sleeping tiger within
me.”
“Abstain, illustrious Minos,” quoth Master
Lavender. “Having sufficiently vented my indignation,
I am now quite cool, and hereby declare
myself compunctious, sorely repenting, not in sackcloth
and ashes, but villanous cold water.”
Justice Knapp hereupon declared the law was
satisfied, and dismissed the culprit with a monition
to be sure he did not catch cold.
| CHAPTER III. Tales of the good woman | |