The Thing Itself (25 page)

He lean’d in &d kiss’d me, once, upon the browe, &d then he departed &d taking the light with him left me in the darkness. I clutch’d the penny to my selfe &d lay down, &d as I lay I ponder’d that Mercy had prevail’d, when had my lord try’d to use me as I were his Wife, then Revenge would surely have ensu’d.

The following day the Justice of the Peece came againe, with certaine bills he had printed offering Four Guineas as reward for the murtheerers of the two strangers, &d a Cart came to take away the mortal remains. The Parson was fed with Milk thro’ a Clyster Pipe, but spilt it much, &d came not awake againe.

I offert myself for worke, yet the servants shoo’d me away, I know not whether because the Judge had order’d them so to do. That morning I wander’d thro’ the gardens, &d betook me againe to the river, wheere the Sylphis had visited me, or I them. But to walke againe beside the flow was not to perceive the eccho of that night. I lay amongst the grass, &d directed my Ey at the clouds &d the Skie clear as cleare &d Blue as pure water, &d the
Moone
was visible too, tho its brightness was diluted by the Day. I here dedicated that this new
Power
would not betray me to Cruelty or Vice, &d recalld to myself that the LORD GOD puts temptation in the way such that we may retort it, not for us to succumbe. In this resolution I was much pleas’d, &d returned to the House in good spirits with myselfe, yea, even praising myself in my heart.

But Pride Goeth before the Fall as the saying is. &d such resolution did not last the fortnight, for it is not given that mankind may continue in possession of great power in innocency. Does it not saye in the
Bible
, Heare now this, O foolish people, &d without Understanding, which hath eyes &d see not; which hath ears &d hear not? But this people hath a revolting &d a rebellious heart; they are revolted &d gone. Does it not saye: A wonderful &d horrible thing is committed in the Land?

On the morrow the Parson died, &d on the Friday was buryed in the graveyard; &d so he pass’d away. For the Saturday, &d againe in the Sunday, my lord the Judge was much desponded by this newes, &d kept to himself. Yet in the weeke after he sent for the
lord Knox
, who came with companie, &d amongst them other Gentlemen, &d serving boyes. With this company my lord Newbolt made merrie, &d drank &d carded until late.

My lord Knox greeted me in hallway upon his first arrival with mocking,
how now
, crying afterward,
who is this ladde with boyish frame yet face of a wizzen’d dotard? Why dost thou keep so wrinkl’d a retainer about thee, my lord? He hangs like a Scrotum, needing only to be scratch’d &d then tuck’d out of sight
. Theere was much more in the veyne, an the company laught long at it; &d for my parte I was gladd to remove myself. Yet was I not let alone, but call’d forth that night from my sleepe to serve at their table. They twitted me, &d tugg’d at my cloathes, &d I left them with gladness to return to bed. Yet they call’d me againe, &d I came down again. O that they had let me asleep! They bargain’d not for what they rousd in me.

The eve pass’d thiswise, for my lord the Judge Newbolt was asleepe with drinke, &d lolling in his chaire, yet did he wake when I came in. The lord Knox made merry againe in his clumsy manner, &d once more twitted me, but I saw that another serving boy was theere, &d that they had no neede of me. I was on poynt of retiring once more when one of my lord Knox’s fellowes (I know not his name) call’d to me,
hop, hop, &d bring me a stoup, old scar-skin
, &d meeting my gaze at the other lad, laught with a
we have other playe for this one, &d not a-serving wine
. &d he put his Hand upon his boddie.

Then did a great wrath fill me, to my later shame, yet did I feel no remorse at that time. I saw neither the face of the boy, whether he was Complicit or Press’d against his Will, nor did I ever know his name, nor his mynd on this business. But, either being tired with constant waking in the darke, or filled with Wicked Wrath from some Diabolic prompter, I surrender’d myself to this Anger. Indeede, as I recall it now, I am surpriz’d at the sudden kindling of this rage, as if theere had been some
Gunnepowder
in my spirit.

I felt forth &d grasped some innard, I know not what, yet it squeez’d under my touch like as a
Raysin
or
Currant
from which the juyce has not been altogether press’d, &d it was hidden well within the Scull of my lord Knox. This I flatten’d &d spread into tendrils, t[e]aring some, &d he jerk’d backward in his chaire with a mightie bellow like a Heiffer at slaughter. So, and so with no outward motion of my boddie, I reach’d down a litel way &d press’d flat his windpipe, such that he dropp’d silent down, &d was dead.

At this, as ye may suppose, was great confusion &d clamor of voyces, &d in the midst rose up my lord the Judge with eyes starting out on’s face, &d calling out in a fierce distress
It is Hogart, it is Hogart his Spirit vexing us, we are haunted by the wickednesse of that man
(for Hogart was the Parson’s name). &d as they all stoode, I felt the surge, like a tide within my soule, &d the strength grew within me, such that for a mimim I held them all, eache man &d boye of them, in my minde, &d felt with the arm &d the
Virtue
of it mixt in my heade. I felt the pulse of their viscera like the
Eeles
that are solde in London byside the river, &d the wash of
Bloode
in which each organ bathes, &d the sparkle &d prickle of their soules scattering through their limbes, not unlike the touche of a
Stickleback-fish
as ye might touch it with your fingers-ends in a streame, or like unto the rubbe of cloth on cloth that makes for the haires of a man to stand up, running along the threads &d strings of their sinews. But this moment past, &d much mov’d by drinke &d feare the companie ran from the roome, some thro’ one door &d some thro’ the other, &d I was left alone with the corse of my lord Knox.

&d looking upon it againe I felt in the first moment nought but exultation, &d I thought in my heart
rejoyce not against me mine enemie, tho I fall yet shall I rise, &d at the last victorie shall be mine
.

Hearing the commotion the Steward did enter the roome, &d demand of me, none too courteous,
what hath happened heere, wretch? What noyse is this?

My lord Knox is fall’n dead with an apoplexy
, I said.

What?
said the Steward, who was a Puritan man, drestt very sober in blacke,
what, in his drinke?

Ay
, I said.

But did I not tell my lord the Judge that no good could come of this carouze?
he said, approaching to looke ypon the corse.
Look thou not upon the Wine when it is Red
, he said in a sorrowful voyce
, when it lendeth its colour in the cuppe, when it moveth itselfe aright, for at the last it hath teeth &d biteth like a serpent.

My lord is runne crying thro’ the house that the ghoust of the Parson has smitten him
, I said.

The Steward look’d very queerly at me then, &d tushed this notion, saying
GOD allows not such things
.

Yet my lorde said so
, I did saye.

A Parson? A minister of Christ? No, no
, said the Steward. But he withdrew soon theereafter to finde my lord the Judge &d I was left alone againe with the corse of the lord Knox. At this moment I felt a pitie swell in me, &d I felt ashamed that I, a mere serving boye of no account, had so acted upon a great Lord of the Land as to slay him. For I remamber’d me that the LORD GOD putt all people in their place in this world, both high degree &d lowe, &d that it was not given to me to question it, or essay to overturne it. &d with this thought came a regret that the lord Knox, who was so young &d faire, with Handsome countenance &d straight limb, had been so struck down. The more I stoode in that place the more I swelled with griefe at what I had donne, for altho he was not courteous to me &d had spoken rude words, yet he had offer’d me no actual violence, &d wheerefore shou’d I smite him? As I thought I began to weepe, &d the more I wept the more teares did come.

I repented me that I had done. Yea, I even reached into his head again &d gather’d together the torn pieces of what I had donne, as a maid might rolle together scraps of pastry into a globe. Yet it made no odds, for my lord Knox was dead as ever he was dead.

Heere I resolved: I must take myself farre away, &d live removed from mankind that I might do them no other harme, or else I resolvd to take the King his shilling &d become a soldier, wheere my strength might serve some better purpose. Yet did I not acte upon this resolve for a weeke, but kept my own counsel &d companie.

For the following day theere was a strange hush in the house, &d the servants did speak low of how theere was a curse upon it; &d my lord the Judge came from his chamber, nor issued orders for the arrangement of any matter. Yet the surgeon did come again, &d did declare that my lord Knox had indeed dyed of an apoplexy brought on by drinke. One of his companie said that the lord his estate was in Easte Anglia, &d a tun of liqor was ordered from
Maid
[enhead] for to stowe his boddie in &d keep it from corruption on the cart to that distant place. The Justice came again, &d told the Cooke that two ruffians had been apprehended in
Henley
on suspicion of killing the two in the field bye the house, &d were to be tried the next week, &d the cooke spread this worde through the house. Yet did it not lift the mood, for all felt the presence of something wicked. It came to me that this wickedness was truly me.

So the following day, which was the Sabbath day, my lord the Judge did come from his roome to church, &d did take the Lord’s supper &d praye &d then retire againe. But on the day after he came forth &d sat in the chamber looking through the window at the Land, wheere
Summer
was weaving blooms of red &d yellow into the hair of the fields, &d the trees were shaggy with dark greene, &d the sky blue as a jewell. I crept close to him, &d begged his mercy, &d when he looked at me I said,
&d it please you my lord, send me away from this place, from your service too
.

He thought about this for a long time, &d then said,
I have heeard what they say below staires, that the house be haunted. I know not, my ladd, but perhaps we should all leave this place, go all of us away
.

I knew not what to say to this, but to repeat my entreaty,
my lord, I beg of you to release me from your service &d allow me to depart.

I have sent for a vicar
, he said, answering not to my purpose,
&d he from Windsor. He is famed for the casting out of – devills, I should say, tho it frights me to mowthe the word. Yet shall he exorcise this house, &d then – &d—
heere he stopp’d &d fell into a reverie.

This newes comforted me to some degree, for I thought that this priest of GOD would bring out the truth, id., whether I was possest by some Devill or whether this new strength came from some other Place. &d so I altered my resolution to leave that place, &d waited.

Yet was it comfortless to dwell in that house; for the servants avoyded one the other, &d fewe words were spoken, &d tho it was High Summer outside yet inside was darke &d stille. On the Sunday following the priest came, a very fat man call’d Baker dressed in a somewhat greasie cloth of black. He went to roome &d to roome sniffing the aire, &d declar’d that he cou’d smell the stench of the
Adversarie
. &d so he blest the house, &d walk’d thro’ scattering with the holy water broadcast, so as to splash the walls &d floors, &d pronouncing
Lattin
with great solemnity. My heart was rattling, for I fear’d that I might tumble to the floor as the Devil struggl’d with this cleansing, as I have heerd tell. Yet did his words have no effect upon me, &d after he had gone I felt the same as before.

At first this pleas’d me, for I reasond that this new Strength must be a gift of GOD, or at least a gift of some creature that offendeth not the LORD. Yet after I became fearfull once more, thinking that perhaps it was not this, but rather the Devill in me was so strong that this parish priest had not the Power to overthrow him. &d the more I thought on this, the liker it seem’d to me.

Againe I came to my lord &d begged release from his service, but now he treated me as a fool, saying
&d who would take thee in, my lad? Glance in any mirror &d see how ruin’d is thy face, how pucker’d &d repulsive
.

Then send me to your farme, my lord, as you thought once to do
.

But he would not.

Ane day, and a dark one it show’d itself ere dusk, I was in the kitchen, idle, &d a Tinker came to the doore across the kaleyard offering to mend pots &d pans. The Cooke, an honest woman if somewhat sloven, shoo’d him away, but he went not, &d instead offer’d to embrace her, chucking her chinne &d reaching round about her with his armes. He was a swart fellowe, &d smelt ill, &d I found my rage starting, tho if the truth be told the Cooke was not much distress’d with his attention, &d even laught at this playe, chiding him as a
foolish vagrant
, &d bidding him
go drowne himself in the river that his corse might be cleane for burial
&d suchlike. Yet tho she laught I grew angry, &d I reach’d out with my strength &d felt the length of his shinbones, like the planed wood of table-legs, &d felt up wheere it was smooth &d warme wet.