Mary Powell & Deborah's Diary Part 14

"A Rhomb, Child?" repeated he, laughing, "why, a Parallelogram or quadrangular Figure, consisting of parallel Lines, with two acute and two obtuse Angles, and formed by two equal and righte Cones, joyned together at their Base! There, are you anie wiser now? No, little Maid, 'tis best for such as you

Not with perplexing Thoughts To interrupt the Sweet of Life, from which G.o.d hath bid dwell far off all anxious Cares, And not molest us, unless we ourselves Seek them, with wandering Thoughts and Notions vain.'"

_April 19, 1665_.

I heartilie wish our Stepmother were back, albeit we are soe comfortable without her! _Mary_, taking the Maids at unawares last Night, found a strange Man in the Kitchen. Words ensued; he slunk off like a Culprit, which lookt not well, while _Betty Fisher_, brazening it out, woulde have at firste that he was her Brother, then her Cousin, and ended by vowing to be revenged on _Mary_ when she lookt not for it. I would have had _Mary_ speak to Father, but she will not; perhaps soe best. _Polly_ is in the Sulks to Daye, as well as _Betty_, saying, "As well live in a Nunnerie."

_April 20, 1665_.

When the Horse is stolen, shut the Stable Door. _Mary_ locked the lower Doors, and brought up the Keys herselfe, yestereven at Duske. Anon dropped in Doctor _Paget_, Mr. _Skinner_, and Uncle _d.i.c.k_, soe that we had quite a merrie Party. Dr. _Paget_ sayd how that another Case of the Plague had occurred in _Long Acre_; howbeit, this onlie makes three, soe that we trust it will not spread, though 'twoulde be unadvised to goe needlesslie into the infected Quarter. Uncle _d.i.c.k_ would fayn take us Girls down to _Oxon_, but Father sayd he could not spare us while Mother was at _Stoke_; and that there was noe prevalent Distemper, this bracing Weather, in our Parish. Then felle a musing; and Uncle _d.i.c.k_, who loves a Jeste, outs with a large brown Apple from's Pocket, and holds it aneath Father's Nose. Sayth Father, rousing, "How far Phansy goes! thy Voice, _d.i.c.k_, carried me back to olde Dayes, and affected, I think, even my Nose; for I could protest I smelled a _Sheepscote_ Apple." And, feeling himselfe touched by its cold Skin, laught merrilie, and ate it with a Relish; saying, noe Sorte ever seemed unto him soe goode--he had received manie a Hamper of 'em about Christma.s.se. After a Time, alle but he and I went up, and out on the Leads, to see the Comet; and we two sitting quite still, and Father, doubtlesse, supposed to be alone, I saw a great round-shouldered mannish Shadowe glide acrosse the Pa.s.sage, and hearde the Front-door Latch click. Darted forthe, but too late, and then into the Kitchen; with some Warmth chid _Betty_ for soe soone agayn disobeying Orders, and threatened to tell my Mamma. She cryed pertlie, "Law, Miss _Deb_, I wish to Goodnesse your Mamma was here to heare you, for I'd sooner have one Mistress than three. A Shadowe, indeed! I'm sure you saw no Substance--very like, 'twas a Spirit; or, liker still, onlie the Cat. Here, Puss, Puss!" . . . and soe into the Pa.s.sage, as though to look for what she was sure not to find. I had noe Patience with her; but, returning to Father, askt him if he had not heard the Latch click?

He sayd, No; and, indeede, I think, had been dozing; soe then sate still, and bethoughte me what 'twere best to doe. Three Brains are too little agaynst one that is resolved to cheat. 'Tis noe Goode complayning to a Man; he will not see, even though unafflicted like Father, who cannot.

Men's Minds run on greater Things, and soe they are fretted at domestic Appeals, and generallie give Judgment the wrong Way. Thus we founde it before, poor motherlesse Girls, to our Cost; and I reallie believe it was more in Kindnesse for us than himself, that Father listened to the Doctor's Overtures in behalfe of Miss _Minshull_; for what Companion can soe illiterate a Woman be to him? But he believed her gentle, hearde that she was a good Housewife, and apprehended she would be kind to us. . . . Alas the Daye! What Tears we three shed in our Chamber that Night! and wished, too late, we had ne'er referred to him a Grievance, nor let him know we had a Burthen. Soone we founde King _Log_ had been succeeded by King _Stork_; soone made common Cause, tryed our Strength and found it wanting, and soone submitted to our new Yoke, and tried to make the best of it.

Yes, that is the onlie Course; we alle feele it; onlie, as Ill-luck will have it, we do not always feel it simultaneouslie. _Anne_, mayhap, has one of her dogged humours; _Mary_ and I see how much better 'twould be, did she overcome it, or shut herself up till in better Temper. _Mary_ is crabbed and exacting; _Anne_ and I cannot put her straight. Well for us when we succeed just soe far as to keep it from the Notice of Father.

Thus we rub on; I wonder if we ever shall pull all together?

_April 22, 1665_.

Like unto a wise Master-builder, who ordereth the Disposition of eache Stone till the whole Building is fitly compacted together, so doth Father build up his n.o.ble Poem, which groweth under our Hands. Three Nights have I, without Complaynt, lost my Rest while writing at his Bedside; this hath made me yawnish in the Day-time, or, as Mother will have it, lazy. However, I bethink me of _Damo_, Daughter of _Pythagoras_.

Mother came Home yesterday, and _Betty_, the Picture of Neatnesse, tooke goode Heede to be the first to welcome her, with officious Smiles, and Prayses of her Looks. For my Part, I thoughte it fullsome, but knew her Motives better than Mother, who took it alle in goode Part. Indeede, noe one would give this Girl credit for soe false a Heart; she is pretty, modest looking, and for a while before my Father's Marriage was as great a Favourite with _Mary_ as now with my Mother; flattered her the same, and tempted her to idle gossiping Confidences. She was slow to believe herself cheated; and when 'twas as cleare as Day, could not convince Father of it.

On _Mary's_ mentioning this Morning (unadvisedlie, I think,) the Kitchen Visitor, Mother made short Answer--

"Tilly-vally! bad Mistresses make bad Maids; there will be noe such Doings now, I warrant. . . . I am sure, my Dear," appealing to Father, "you think well in the main of _Betty_?"

"Yes," says he, smiling, "I think well of both my _Betties_."

"At any rate," persists _Mary_, "the Man coulde not be at once her Cousin and her Brother."

"Why no," replies Father, "therein she worsened her Story, by saying too much, as _Dorothea_ did, when she pretended to have heard of the Knight of _La Mancha's_ Fame, when she landed at _Ossuna_; which even a Madman as he was, knew to be noe Sea-port. It requires more Skill than the General possess, to lie with a Circ.u.mstance."

Had a Valentine this Morning, though onlie from_ Ned Phillips_, whom Mother is angry with, for filling my Head betimes with such Nonsense.

Howbeit, I am close on sixteen.

_Mary_ was out of Patience with Father yesterday, who, after keeping her a full Hour at _Thucydides_, sayd,

"Well, now we will refresh ourselves with a Canto of _Ariosto_," which was as much a sealed Book to her as t'other. Howbeit, this Morning he sayd,

"Child, I have noted your Wearinesse in reading the dead Languages to me; would that I needed not to be beholden unto any, whether bound to me by Blood and Affection or not, for the Food that is as needfulle to me as my daily Bread. Nevertheless, that I be not further wearisome unto thee, I have engaged a young Quaker, named _Ellwood_, to relieve thee of this Portion of thy Task, soe that thou mayst have the more Leisure to enjoy the glad Suns.h.i.+ne and fair Sights I never more shall see."

_Mary_ turned red, and dropt a quiet Tear; but alas, he knew it not.

"One part of my Children's Burthen, indeed," he continued, "I cannot, for obvious Reasons, relieve them of--they must still be my Secretaries, for in them alone can I confide. Soe now to your healthfulle Exercises and fitting Recreations, dear Maids, and Heaven's Blessing goe with you!"

We kissed his Hand and went, but our Walk was not merry.

_Ellwood_ is a young Man of seven-and-twenty, of good Parts, but pragmaticalle; Son of an Oxfords.h.i.+re Justice of the Peace, but not on good Terms with him, by Reason of his religious Opinions, which the Father affects not.

_April 23, 1665_.

Spring is coming on apace. Father even sits between the wood Fire and the open Cas.e.m.e.nt, enjoying the mild Air, but it is not considered healthfulle.

"My Dear," says Mother to him this Morning, after some Hours' Absence, "I have bought me a new Mantle of the most absolute Fancy. 'Tis sad-coloured, which I knew you would approve, but with a Garniture of Orange-tawny; three Plaits at the Waist behind, and a little stuck-up Collar."

"You are a comical Woman," says Father, "to spend soe much Money and Mind on a Thing your Husband will never see."

"Oh! but it cost no Money at alle," says she; "that is the best of it."

"What is the best of it?" rejoyned he. "I suppose you bartered for it, if you did not buy it--you Women are always for cheap Pennyworths. Come, what was the Ransom? One of my old Books, or my new Coat?"

"Your last new Coat may be called old too, I'm sure," says Mother; "I believe you married me in it."

"Nay," says Father, "and what if I did? 'Twas new then, at any rate; and the Cid _Ruy Diaz_ was married in a black Satin Doublet, which his Father had worn in three or four Battles."

"A poor Compliment to the Bride," says Mother.

"Well, but, dear _Betty_, what has gone for this copper-coloured Mantle?--_Sylvester's_ 'Du Bartas?'" . . .

"Nothing of the sort,--nothing you value or will ever miss. An old Gold Pocket-piece, that hath lain perdue, e'er soe long, in our Dressing-table Drawer."

He smote the Table with his Hand. "Woman!" cried he, changing Colour, "'twas a Medal of Honour given to my Father by a Polish Prince! It should have been an Heir-loom. There, say noe more about it now. 'Tis in your Jew's Furnace ere this. 'The Fining-pot for Silver and the Furnace for Gold, but . . . the Lord trieth the Spirits.' Ay me! mine is tried sometimes."

Uncle _Kit_ most opportunelie entering at this Moment, instantaneouslie changed his Key-note.

"Ha, _Kit_!" he cries, gladly, "here you find me, as usual, maundering among my Women. Welcome, welcome! How is it with you, and what's the News?"

"Why, the News is, that the Plague's coming on amain," says my Uncle; "they say it's been smouldering among us all the Winter, and now it's bursting out."

"Lord save us!" says Mother, turning pale.

"You may say that," says Uncle, "but you must alsoe try to save yourselves. For my Part, I see not what shoulde keep you in Town. Come down to us at _Ipswich_; my Brother and you shall have the haunted Chamber; and we can make plenty of Shakedowns for the Girls in the Atticks. Your Maids can look after Matters here. By the way, you have a Merlin's Head sett up in your Neighbourhood; I saw your black-eyed Maid come forthe of it as I pa.s.sed."

Mother bit her lip; but Father broke forthe with, "What can we expect but that a judiciall Punishment shoulde befall a Land where the Corruption of the Court, more potent and subtile in its Infection than anie Pestilence, hath tainted every open Resorte and bye Corner of the Capital and Country? Our Sins cry aloud; our Pulpits, Counters, and Closetts alike witness against us. 'Tis, as with the People soe with the Priest, as with the Buyer soe with the Seller, as with the Maid soe with the Mistress. Plays, Interludes, Gaming-houses, Sabbath Debauches, Dancing-rooms, Merry-Andrews, Jack Puddings, Quacks, false Prophesyings--"

"Ah! we can excuse a little Bitternesse in the losing Party now," says Uncle; "but do you seriously mean to say you think us more deserving of judiciall Punishment under the glorious Restoration than during the unnatural Rebellion? Sure you have had Time to cool upon that."

"Certainly I mean to say so," answers Father. "During the unnatural Rebellion, as you please to call it, the Commonwealth, whose Duration was very short--"

"Very short, indeed," observes Uncle, coughing. "Only from _Worcester_ Fight, Fifty-one, to _Noll's_ Dissolution of the Long Parliament, Fifty-three; yet quite long enough to see what it was."