Peveril of the Peak Read online

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  A man so various, that he seem'd to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome; Stiff in opinions--always in the wrong-- Was everything by starts, but nothing long; Who, in the course of one revolving moon, Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon; Then, all for women, painting, fiddling, drinking; Besides a thousand freaks that died in thinking. --DRYDEN.

  We must now transport the reader to the magnificent hotel in ----Street,inhabited at this time by the celebrated George Villiers, Duke ofBuckingham, whom Dryden has doomed to a painful immortality by thefew lines which we have prefixed to this chapter. Amid the gay andlicentious of the laughing Court of Charles, the Duke was the mostlicentious and most gay; yet, while expending a princely fortune, astrong constitution, and excellent talents, in pursuit of frivolouspleasures, he nevertheless nourished deeper and more extensive designs;in which he only failed from want of that fixed purpose and regulatedperseverance essential to all important enterprises, but particularly inpolitics.

  It was long past noon; and the usual hour of the Duke's levee--ifanything could be termed usual where all was irregular--had been longpast. His hall was filled with lackeys and footmen, in the most splendidliveries; the interior apartments, with the gentlemen and pages ofhis household, arrayed as persons of the first quality, and, in thatrespect, rather exceeding than falling short of the Duke in personalsplendour. But his antechamber, in particular, might be compared to agathering of eagles to the slaughter, were not the simile too dignifiedto express that vile race, who, by a hundred devices all tending to onecommon end, live upon the wants of needy greatness, or administer tothe pleasures of summer-teeming luxury, or stimulate the wild wishesof lavish and wasteful extravagance, by devising new modes and freshmotives of profusion. There stood the projector, with his mysteriousbrow, promising unbounded wealth to whomsoever might choose to furnishthe small preliminary sum necessary to change egg-shells into thegreat _arcanum_. There was Captain Seagull, undertaker for a foreignsettlement, with the map under his arm of Indian or American kingdoms,beautiful as the primitive Eden, waiting the bold occupants, for whoma generous patron should equip two brigantines and a fly-boat. Thithercame, fast and frequent, the gamesters, in their different forms andcalling. This, light, young, gay in appearance, the thoughtless youth ofwit and pleasure--the pigeon rather than the rook--but at heart thesame sly, shrewd, cold-blooded calculator, as yonder old hard-featuredprofessor of the same science, whose eyes are grown dim with watchingof the dice at midnight; and whose fingers are even now assisting hismental computation of chances and of odds. The fine arts, too--I wouldit were otherwise--have their professors amongst this sordid train.The poor poet, half ashamed, in spite of habit, of the part which heis about to perform, and abashed by consciousness at once of hisbase motive and his shabby black coat, lurks in yonder corner for thefavourable moment to offer his dedication. Much better attired, thearchitect presents his splendid vision of front and wings, and designsa palace, the expense of which may transfer his employer to a jail. Butuppermost of all, the favourite musician, or singer, who waits on mylord to receive, in solid gold, the value of the dulcet sounds whichsolaced the banquet of the preceding evening.

  Such, and many such like, were the morning attendants of the Duke ofBuckingham--all genuine descendants of the daughter of the horse-leech,whose cry is "Give, give."

  But the levee of his Grace contained other and very differentcharacters; and was indeed as various as his own opinions and pursuits.Besides many of the young nobility and wealthy gentry of England, whomade his Grace the glass at which they dressed themselves for the day,and who learned from him how to travel, with the newest and bestgrace, the general Road to Ruin; there were others of a gravercharacter--discarded statesmen, political spies, opposition orators,servile tools of administration, men who met not elsewhere, but whoregarded the Duke's mansion as a sort of neutral ground; sure, that ifhe was not of their opinion to-day, this very circumstance rendered itmost likely he should think with them to-morrow. The Puritans themselvesdid not shun intercourse with a man whose talents must have renderedhim formidable, even if they had not been united with high rank andan immense fortune. Several grave personages, with black suits, shortcloaks, and band-strings of a formal cut, were mingled, as we see theirportraits in a gallery of paintings, among the gallants who ruffledin silk and embroidery. It is true, they escaped the scandal of beingthought intimates of the Duke, by their business being supposed to referto money matters. Whether these grave and professing citizens mixedpolitics with money lending, was not known; but it had been longobserved, that the Jews, who in general confine themselves to the latterdepartment, had become for some time faithful attendants at the Duke'slevee.

  It was high-tide in the antechamber, and had been so for more than anhour, ere the Duke's gentleman-in-ordinary ventured into his bedchamber,carefully darkened, so as to make midnight at noonday, to know hisGrace's pleasure. His soft and serene whisper, in which he asked whetherit were his Grace's pleasure to rise, was briefly and sharply answeredby the counter questions, "Who waits?--What's o'clock?"

  "It is Jerningham, your Grace," said the attendant. "It is one,afternoon; and your Grace appointed some of the people without ateleven."

  "Who are they?--What do they want?"

  "A message from Whitehall, your Grace."

  "Pshaw! it will keep cold. Those who make all others wait, will be thebetter of waiting in their turn. Were I to be guilty of ill-breeding, itshould rather be to a king than a beggar."

  "The gentlemen from the city."

  "I am tired of them--tired of their all cant, and no religion--allProtestantism, and no charity. Tell them to go to Shaftesbury--toAldersgate Street with them--that's the best market for their wares."

  "Jockey, my lord, from Newmarket."

  "Let him ride to the devil--he has horse of mine, and spurs of his own.Any more?"

  "The whole antechamber is full, my lord--knights and squires, doctorsand dicers."

  "The dicers, with their doctors[*] in their pockets, I presume."

  [*] Doctor, a cant name for false dice.

  "Counts, captains, and clergymen."

  "You are alliterative, Jerningham," said the Duke; "and that is a proofyou are poetical. Hand me my writing things."

  Getting half out of bed--thrusting one arm into a brocade nightgown,deeply furred with sables, and one foot into a velvet slipper, while theother pressed in primitive nudity the rich carpet--his Grace, withoutthinking farther on the assembly without, began to pen a few lines ofa satirical poem; then suddenly stopped--threw the pen into thechimney--exclaimed that the humour was past--and asked his attendant ifthere were any letters. Jerningham produced a huge packet.

  "What the devil!" said his Grace, "do you think I will read all these? Iam like Clarence, who asked a cup of wine, and was soused into a butt ofsack. I mean, is there anything which presses?"

  "This letter, your Grace," said Jerningham, "concerning the Yorkshiremortgage."

  "Did I not bid thee carry it to old Gatheral, my steward?"

  "I did, my lord," answered the other; "but Gatheral says there aredifficulties."

  "Let the usurers foreclose, then--there is no difficulty in that; andout of a hundred manors I shall scarce miss one," answered the Duke."And hark ye, bring me my chocolate."

  "Nay, my lord, Gatheral does not say it is impossible--only difficult."

  "And what is the use of him, if he cannot make it easy? But you are allborn to make difficulties," replied the Duke.

  "Nay, if your Grace approves the terms in this schedule, and pleases tosign it, Gatheral will undertake for the matter," answered Jerningham.

  "And could you not have said so at first, you blockhead?" said the Duke,signing the paper without looking at the contents--"What other letters?And remember, I must be plagued with no more business."

  "Billets-doux, m
y lord--five or six of them. This left at the porter'slodge by a vizard mask."

  "Pshaw!" answered the Duke, tossing them over, while his attendantassisted in dressing him--"an acquaintance of a quarter's standing."

  "This given to one of the pages by my Lady ----'s waiting-woman."

  "Plague on it--a Jeremiade on the subject of perjury and treachery, andnot a single new line to the old tune," said the Duke, glancing over thebillet. "Here is the old cant--_cruel man--broken vows--Heaven's justrevenge_. Why, the woman is thinking of murder--not of love. No oneshould pretend to write upon so threadbare a topic without having atleast some novelty of expression. _The despairing Araminta_--Lie there,fair desperate. And this--how comes it?"

  "Flung into the window of the hall, by a fellow who ran off at fullspeed," answered Jerningham.

  "This is a better text," said the Duke; "and yet it is an old onetoo--three weeks old at least--The little Countess with the jealouslord--I should not care a farthing for her, save for that same jealouslord--Plague on't, and he's gone down to the country--_this evening--insilence and safety--written with a quill pulled from the wing ofCupid_--Your ladyship has left him pen-feathers enough to fly awaywith--better clipped his wings when you had caught him, my lady--And_so confident of her Buckingham's faith_,--I hate confidence in a youngperson. She must be taught better--I will not go."

  "You Grace will not be so cruel!" said Jerningham.

  "Thou art a compassionate fellow, Jerningham; but conceit must bepunished."

  "But if your lordship should resume your fancy for her?"

  "Why, then, you must swear the billet-doux miscarried," answered theDuke. "And stay, a thought strikes me--it shall miscarry in great style.Hark ye--Is--what is the fellow's name--the poet--is he yonder?"

  "There are six gentlemen, sir, who, from the reams of paper in theirpocket, and the threadbare seams at their elbows, appear to wear thelivery of the Muses."

  "Poetical once more, Jerningham. He, I mean, who wrote the lastlampoon," said the Duke.

  "To whom your Grace said you owed five pieces and a beating!" repliedJerningham.

  "The money for his satire, and the cudgel for his praise--Good--findhim--give him the five pieces, and thrust the Countess'sbillet-doux--Hold--take Araminta's and the rest of them--thrust them allinto his portfolio--All will come out at the Wit's Coffee-house; and ifthe promulgator be not cudgelled into all the colours of the rainbow,there is no spite in woman, no faith in crabtree, or pith in heartof oak--Araminta's wrath alone would overburden one pair of mortalshoulders."

  "But, my Lord Duke," said his attendant, "this Settle[*] is so dull arascal, that nothing he can write will take."

  [*] Elkana Settle, the unworthy scribbler whom the envy of Rochester and others tried to raise to public estimation, as a rival to Dryden; a circumstance which has been the means of elevating him to a very painful species of immortality.

  "Then as we have given him steel to head the arrow," said the Duke, "wewill give him wings to waft it with--wood, he has enough of his own tomake a shaft or bolt of. Hand me my own unfinished lampoon--give it tohim with the letters--let him make what he can of them all."

  "My Lord Duke--I crave pardon--but your Grace's style will bediscovered; and though the ladies' names are not at the letters, yetthey will be traced."

  "I would have it so, you blockhead. Have you lived with me so long, andcannot discover that the eclat of an intrigue is, with me, worth all therest of it?"

  "But the danger, my Lord Duke?" replied Jerningham. "There are husbands,brothers, friends, whose revenge may be awakened."

  "And beaten to sleep again," said Buckingham haughtily. "I have BlackWill and his cudgel for plebeian grumblers; and those of quality I candeal with myself. I lack breathing and exercise of late."

  "But yet your Grace----"

  "Hold your peace, fool! I tell you that your poor dwarfish spirit cannotmeasure the scope of mine. I tell thee I would have the course of mylife a torrent--I am weary of easy achievements, and wish for obstacles,that I can sweep before my irresistible course."

  Another gentleman now entered the apartment. "I humbly crave yourGrace's pardon," he said; "but Master Christian is so importunate foradmission instantly, that I am obliged to take your Grace's pleasure."

  "Tell him to call three hours hence. Damn his politic pate, that wouldmake all men dance after his pipe!"

  "I thank thee for the compliment, my Lord Duke," said Christian,entering the apartment in somewhat a more courtly garb, but with thesame unpretending and undistinguished mien, and in the same placidand indifferent manner with which he had accosted Julian Peveril upondifferent occasions during his journey to London. "It is precisely mypresent object to pipe to you; and you may dance to your own profit, ifyou will."

  "On my word, Master Christian," said the Duke haughtily, "the affairshould be weighty, that removes ceremony so entirely from betwixt us. Ifit relates to the subject of our last conversation, I must request ourinterview be postponed to some farther opportunity. I am engaged in anaffair of some weight." Then turning his back on Christian, he went onwith his conversation with Jerningham. "Find the person you wot of,and give him the papers; and hark ye, give him this gold to pay for theshaft of his arrow--the steel-head and peacock's wing we have alreadyprovided."

  "This is all well, my lord," said Christian calmly, and taking his seatat the same time in an easy-chair at some distance; "but your Grace'slevity is no match for my equanimity. It is necessary I should speakwith you; and I will await your Grace's leisure in the apartment."

  "_Very well_, sir," said the Duke peevishly; "if an evil is to beundergone, the sooner it is over the better--I can take measures toprevent its being renewed. So let me hear your errand without fartherdelay."

  "I will wait till your Grace's toilette is completed," said Christian,with the indifferent tone which was natural to him. "What I have to saymust be between ourselves."

  "Begone, Jerningham; and remain without till I call. Leave my doublet onthe couch.--How now, I have worn this cloth of silver a hundred times."

  "Only twice, if it please your Grace," replied Jerningham.

  "As well twenty times--keep it for yourself, or give it to my valet, ifyou are too proud of your gentility."

  "Your Grace has made better men than me wear your cast clothes," saidJerningham submissively.

  "Thou art sharp, Jerningham," said the Duke--"in one sense I have, andI may again. So now, that pearl-coloured will do with the ribbon andGeorge. Get away with thee.--And now that he is gone, Master Christian,may I once more crave your pleasure?"

  "My Lord Duke," said Christian, "you are a worshipper of difficulties instate affairs, as in love matters."

  "I trust you have been no eavesdropper, Master Christian," replied theDuke; "it scarce argues the respect due to me, or to my roof."

  "I know not what you mean, my lord," replied Christian.

  "Nay, I care not if the whole world heard what I said but now toJerningham. But to the matter," replied the Duke of Buckingham.

  "Your Grace is so much occupied with conquests over the fair and overthe witty, that you have perhaps forgotten what a stake you have in thelittle Island of Man."

  "Not a whit, Master Christian. I remember well enough that myroundheaded father-in-law, Fairfax, had the island from the LongParliament; and was ass enough to quit hold of it at the Restoration,when, if he had closed his clutches, and held fast, like a true bird ofprey, as he should have done, he might have kept it for him and his.It had been a rare thing to have had a little kingdom--made laws ofmy own--had my Chamberlain with his white staff--I would have taughtJerningham, in half a day, to look as wise, walk as stiffly, and speakas silly, as Harry Bennet."

  "You might have done this, and more, if it had pleased your Grace."

  "Ay, and if it had pleased my Grace, thou, Ned Christian, shouldst havebeen the Jack Ketch of my dominions."

  "_I_ your Jack Ketch, my lord?" said Christian, more in a tone ofsurprise than
of displeasure.

  "Why, ay; thou hast been perpetually intriguing against the life ofyonder poor old woman. It were a kingdom to thee to gratify thy spleenwith thy own hands."

  "I only seek justice against the Countess," said Christian.

  "And the end of justice is always a gibbet," said the Duke.

  "Be it so," answered Christian. "Well, the Countess is in the Plot."

  "The devil confound the Plot, as I believe he first invented it!" saidthe Duke of Buckingham; "I have heard of nothing else for months. If onemust go to hell, I would it were by some new road, and in gentlemen'scompany. I should not like to travel with Oates, Bedloe, and the rest ofthat famous cloud of witnesses."

  "Your Grace is then resolved to forego all the advantages which mayarise? If the House of Derby fall under forfeiture, the grant toFairfax, now worthily represented by your Duchess, revives, and youbecome the Lord and Sovereign of Man."

  "In right of a woman," said the Duke; "but, in troth, my godly dame owesme some advantage for having lived the first year of our marriage withher and old Black Tom, her grim, fighting, puritanic father. A man mightas well have married the Devil's daughter, and set up housekeeping withhis father-in-law."[*]

  [*] Mary, daughter of Thomas, Lord Fairfax, was wedded to the Duke of Buckingham, whose versatility made him capable of rendering himself for a time as agreeable to his father-in-law, though a rigid Presbyterian, as to the gay Charles II.

  "I understand you are willing, then, to join your interest for a heaveat the House of Derby, my Lord Duke?"

  "As they are unlawfully possessed of my wife's kingdom, they certainlycan expect no favour at my hand. But thou knowest there is an interestat Whitehall predominant over mine."

  "That is only by your Grace's sufferance," said Christian.

  "No, no; I tell thee a hundred times, no," said the Duke, rousinghimself to anger at the recollection. "I tell thee that base courtezan,the Duchess of Portsmouth, hath impudently set herself to thwart andcontradict me; and Charles has given me both cloudy looks and hard wordsbefore the Court. I would he could but guess what is the offence betweenher and me! I would he knew but that! But I will have her plumes picked,or my name is not Villiers. A worthless French fille-de-joie to brave methus!--Christian, thou art right; there is no passion so spirit-stirringas revenge. I will patronise the Plot, if it be but to spite her, andmake it impossible for the King to uphold her."

  As the Duke spoke, he gradually wrought himself into a passion, andtraversed the apartment with as much vehemence as if the only object hehad on earth was to deprive the Duchess of her power and favour with theKing. Christian smiled internally to see him approach the state of mindin which he was most easily worked upon, and judiciously kept silence,until the Duke called out to him, in a pet, "Well, Sir Oracle, you thathave laid so many schemes to supplant this she-wolf of Gaul, where areall your contrivances now?--Where is the exquisite beauty who was tocatch the Sovereign's eye at the first glance?--Chiffinch, hath heseen her?--and what does he say, that exquisite critic in beauty andblank-mange, women and wine?"

  "He has _seen_ and approves, but has not yet heard her; and her speechanswers to all the rest. We came here yesterday; and to-day I intend tointroduce Chiffinch to her, the instant he arrives from the country; andI expect him every hour. I am but afraid of the damsel's peevish virtue,for she hath been brought up after the fashion of our grandmothers--ourmothers had better sense."

  "What! so fair, so young, so quick-witted, and so difficult?" said theDuke. "By your leave, you shall introduce me as well as Chiffinch."

  "That your Grace may cure her of her intractable modesty?" saidChristian.

  "Why," replied the Duke, "it will but teach her to stand in her ownlight. Kings do not love to court and sue; they should have their gamerun down for them."

  "Under your Grace's favour," said Christian, "this cannot be--_Nonomnibus dormio_--Your Grace knows the classic allusion. If this maidenbecome a Prince's favourite, rank gilds the shame and the sin. But toany under Majesty, she must not vail topsail."

  "Why, thou suspicious fool, I was but in jest," said the Duke. "Do youthink I would interfere to spoil a plan so much to my own advantage asthat which you have laid before me?"

  Christian smiled and shook his head. "My lord," he said, "I know yourGrace as well, or better, perhaps, than you know yourself. To spoil awell-concerted intrigue by some cross stroke of your own, would give youmore pleasure, than to bring it to a successful termination according tothe plans of others. But Shaftesbury, and all concerned, have determinedthat our scheme shall at least have fair play. We reckon, therefore, onyour help; and--forgive me when I say so--we will not permit ourselvesto be impeded by your levity and fickleness of purpose."

  "Who?--I light and fickle of purpose?" said the Duke. "You see me hereas resolved as any of you, to dispossess the mistress, and to carry onthe plot; these are the only two things I live for in this world. No onecan play the man of business like me, when I please, to the very filingand labelling of my letters. I am regular as a scrivener."

  "You have Chiffinch's letter from the country; he told me he had writtento you about some passages betwixt him and the young Lord Saville."

  "He did so--he did so," said the Duke, looking among his letters; "butI see not his letter just now--I scarcely noted the contents--I was busywhen it came--but I have it safely."

  "You should have acted on it," answered Christian. "The fool sufferedhimself to be choused out of his secret, and prayed you to see that mylord's messenger got not to the Duchess with some despatches which hesent up from Derbyshire, betraying our mystery."

  The Duke was now alarmed, and rang the bell hastily. Jerninghamappeared. "Where is the letter I had from Master Chiffinch some hourssince?"

  "If it be not amongst those your Grace has before you, I know nothing ofit," said Jerningham. "I saw none such arrive."

  "You lie, you rascal," said Buckingham; "have you a right to rememberbetter than I do?"

  "If your Grace will forgive me reminding you, you have scarce opened aletter this week," said his gentleman.

  "Did you ever hear such a provoking rascal?" said the Duke. "He mightbe a witness in the Plot. He has knocked my character for regularityentirely on the head with his damned counter-evidence."

  "Your Grace's talent and capacity will at least remain unimpeached,"said Christian; "and it is those that must serve yourself and yourfriends. If I might advise, you will hasten to Court, and lay somefoundation for the impression we wish to make. If your Grace can takethe first word, and throw out a hint to crossbite Saville, it will bewell. But above all, keep the King's ear employed, which no one can doso well as you. Leave Chiffinch to fill his heart with a proper object.Another thing is, there is a blockhead of an old Cavalier, who mustneeds be a bustler in the Countess of Derby's behalf--he is fast inhold, with the whole tribe of witnesses at his haunches."

  "Nay, then, take him, Topham."

  "Topham has taken him already, my lord," said Christian; "and there is,besides, a young gallant, a son of the said Knight, who was bred in thehousehold of the Countess of Derby, and who has brought letters from herto the Provincial of the Jesuits, and others in London."

  "What are their names?" said the Duke dryly.

  "Sir Geoffrey Peveril of Martindale Castle, in Derbyshire, and his sonJulian."

  "What! Peveril of the Peak?" said the Duke,--"a stout old Cavalier asever swore an oath.--A Worcester-man, too--and, in truth, a man of allwork, when blows were going. I will not consent to his ruin, Christian.These fellows must be flogged of such false scents--flogged in everysense, they must, and will be, when the nation comes to its eyesightagain."

  "It is of more than the last importance, in the meantime, to thefurtherance of our plan," said Christian, "that your Grace should standfor a space between them and the King's favour. The youth hath influencewith the maiden, which we should find scarce favourable to our views;besides, her father holds him as high as he can any one who is no
suchpuritanic fool as himself."

  "Well, most Christian Christian," said the Duke, "I have heard yourcommands at length. I will endeavour to stop the earths under thethrone, that neither the lord, knight, nor squire in question, shallfind it possible to burrow there. For the fair one, I must leaveChiffinch and you to manage her introduction to her high destinies,since I am not to be trusted. Adieu, most Christian Christian."

  He fixed his eyes on him, and then exclaimed, as he shut the door of theapartment,--"Most profligate and damnable villain! And what provokesme most of all, is the knave's composed insolence. Your Grace willdo this--and your Grace will condescend to do that--A pretty puppetI should be, to play the second part, or rather the third, in such ascheme! No, they shall all walk according to my purpose, or I will crossthem. I will find this girl out in spite of them, and judge if theirscheme is likely to be successful. If so, she shall be mine--mineentirely, before she becomes the King's; and I will command her who isto guide Charles.--Jerningham" (his gentleman entered), "cause Christianto be dogged where-ever he goes, for the next four-and-twenty hours, andfind out where he visits a female newly come to town.--You smile, youknave?"

  "I did but suspect a fresh rival to Araminta and the little Countess,"said Jerningham.

  "Away to your business, knave," said the Duke, "and let me think ofmine.--To subdue a Puritan in Esse--a King's favourite in Posse--thevery muster of western beauties--that is point first. The impudence ofthis Manx mongrel to be corrected--the pride of Madame la Duchesse to bepulled down--and important state intrigue to be farthered, or baffled,as circumstances render most to my own honour and glory--I wished forbusiness but now, and I have got enough of it. But Buckingham will keephis own steerage-way through shoal and through weather."