Gowrie; or, the King's Plot.

by G. P. R. James

CHAPTER XXXIII.

"Gowrie, Gowrie, Gowrie!" cried the voice of Sir John Hume from the antechamber, almost as if he had been calling to a dog; and the next moment the gay knight entered with his face all radiant. "Where are the once sharp ears of the noble earl?" he continued, "ears that would have heard the hunter's, halloo, from Stirling to Linlithgow. Why, I called to you out of my high window in the High Street as you rode by, till the echo at the Blackford hills shouted out Gowrie; and you spurred on as if you had stopped your ears with wax, like Don Ulysses when in danger of the fair ladies on the shore. Would to Heaven all our mariners would do the same when they first land."

"I did not hear you, Hume," answered Gowrie, in a grave tone. "In truth, my friend, my heart is very sad, and my outward faculties have little communication with the spirit within. But what makes you look so joyful?"

"One of the strange revolutions of the court of King Solomon," answered Hume; "whether his majesty has found out some sovereign remedy for dispelling the black humours, or for warming and comforting the spleen; or whether his favourite brack has cast him a litter of peculiarly fine pups; or whether Queen Elizabeth has declared him heir to the throne of England, or the Queen of Sheba has sent word to say she will be here to-morrow, or--But never mind, something or another has turned the gall and verjuice into honey and sweetness, and especially towards your dearly beloved family. He ran after Beatrice to-day to the queen's very knees, vowing he would fasten her shoe, while I was forced to stand by looking demure; and he actually gave Alex a hawk--it is not worth a bodle, by the way, but still the gift was something, considering who it comes from."

"I wrote to him from Perth," said Gowrie, "beseeching him to give me an answer to the suit, which I told you I had preferred, and he has never replied my letter."

"Done on purpose to fret you," answered Hume; "he said so before the whole court this very day, and called you a love-lorn gallant."

"I care not what he calls me," replied the earl, "so that he do but consent freely."

"He does consent," replied his friend, "and all your troubles on that score, Gowrie, are at an end. So smoothe your wrinkled brow, my noble lord, and give cold care to the wind."

"Are you quite sure?" demanded the earl, hardly believing the joyful tidings.

"Surer than of my own existence; for that I know nothing about," answered Hume, "had it not been for that overt act, I should have doubted his majesty's sincerity, for his sunshine is not always summer. But deeds speak for themselves. I will tell you how it all happened.--Three days ago he was in an awful mood, and pulled more points off his hose than he had money in his coffers to put on again; but just then came in the news of Stuart of Greenallan's death without heirs, and all his moveables are seised to the crown, besides a large sum in ready money, which he left by will to the king--knowing he would take it if he did not. Well, this windfall mollified him mightily, and he has been improving ever since. But this morning he has had a dispute with three ministers touching church government, and Heaven knows what besides, and he quoted all sorts of books that nobody ever heard of before--long screeds of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, till I believe, upon my life, the poor bodies were quite, as they said, dumfounded, and fairly gave in. I would wager my best horse against a tinker's donkey, they did not understand a word, and the king himself not half of what he poured forth upon them; but they owned in the end that his majesty was right and they were wrong, for they could not confute his arguments or reply to his authorities. One old fellow, indeed, made some fight for it, and answered in Greek and Hebrew too; but the king had two texts for every one of his, and so he too was beat in the end. From that moment he has been all frolic; and this afternoon he held up your letter before dear Beatrice's eyes, and asked if she knew who that came from. So she answered, gaily, 'From one of your majesty's sweethearts, I suppose.' 'Faith, no such thing,' said James, 'but I'll try and make him a sweetheart before I've done, and that by giving him his sweetheart too. It's from your own brother, John, saucy lassie--a most disconsolate epistle, because I forgot to tell him he should have the bonny bird he's so brodened upon. But he shall have her notwithstanding; and I trust she'll plague him till she makes him more complutherable.' Then Beatrice burst into a peal of laughter, so clear, so merry, so joyful, that it set the whole court off, king and queen and all, till James, wiping his eyes, told her to 'haud her guffaw,' or she should not be married herself for a month after you; and then she laughed more gaily than before, but petitioned that she might be permitted to write to you, and tell you of his royal grace. That, the king would not hear of, saying, 'No, I forbid any one to write him a scrape of a pen. Then shall we have him coming with a face as long as a whinger, and his heart full of disloyal repinings, to know if we are minded to condescend to his request.' But the dear girl answered, with her own good sense, 'More chance of his heart being full of sorrow lest he have offended your majesty.' However, the king would not consent that any one should write to you, saying he wished to see what you would do, and exacted a promise that neither Beatrice nor Alex would say a word. Me, he did not so bind; but yet it were better not to let him know that you have been informed."

"I am a bad dissembler, John," replied the earl, "and I fear that the joy in my heart will shine out on my face, do what I will. However, I will do my best to look sad; but is not this a strange person for a king--a strange scene for a court?"

"You would have thought it stranger still, had you but seen the whole," answered Hume. "All the time he was speaking, he held the hawk I have told you of on his hand, and kept stroking it down the back, at which it screamed, and then his gracious majesty called it sometimes greedy gled, and sometimes courtier, till Herries, who thinks he can venture anything, asked why he called it courtier."

"What did he answer?" inquired Gowrie.

"Why, he put on what he would call a pawky look," replied the other, "and said, 'Because it is like the horseleech's daughter, doctor. It aye lifts up its neb, and scrawks for more.'"

Both Gowrie and Hume laughed gaily at this sally, the one in hearing and the other in telling; for the young earl's heart was lightened, and such creatures of circumstance are we, that, with a mind relieved, a reply seemed to him full of humour, which a minute or two before he would have thought nought but a coarse and vulgar jest.

"How did Herries bear the rebuke?" asked Gowrie; "for to him it must have been a severe one."

"Oh, with his own bitter humour," answered the knight. "He said, 'Ay, sir, it is sad how we are led by example. Every one, man and beast, follows his master.' To which the king replied, good naturedly enough, 'Haud yer peace, ye doited auld carle! If you followed your master I'se warrant you'd no pluck but be plucked--you'd be the doo and no the gled.' However, I think that Herries is not so great a favourite as he once was; and I am not sorry for it, for he was ever an enemy to both your house and mine, Gowrie, and is one of those cold-blooded, ever-ready men, who never miss an opportunity to do ill to another by a quiet insinuation pointed by a jest."

"I know him not at all," answered Gowrie. "Alexander and Beatrice love him not; but one need never fear an open enemy. It is the covert attack, the blow struck behind one's back, the quiet lie spoken, forsooth, in confidence, that one fears; for they are like the poisoned weapon of the Italian bravo, which slays, though the wound be but a scratch."

"For the present I do not think you need fear him in any way," replied Sir John Hume; "but go early to-morrow, Gowrie, and take advantage of the tide of favour at the flow."

The conversation then took a more general turn. The various characters of the personages of the court of King James were discussed by the earl and his friend, and the prospects of the country generally were spoken of in a lighter and a gayer spirit than the earl could have shared in an hour before. Some little word--one of those accidental expressions which often set the mind galloping in a different direction from that which it was previously pursuing--led the earl's thoughts suddenly to his brother; and he said, "By the way, Hume, Beatrice seems to think that Alex is even in less favour than myself with his majesty, and I could not induce her to explain the matter fully. She referred me to you, saying you would be able to inform me what was the cause of James's dislike."

"The simplest in the world," answered Hume. "The king dislikes him, because he thinks the queen likes him--too much. The truth is, James is jealous; and, like all suspicious people, hates the object of his suspicion, endures his presence at the court simply for the purpose of entrapping him, and watches for every opportunity to find a motive to take revenge."

"But is there any cause for this suspicion?" asked Gowrie, very gravely. "Can Alex have been mad enough, wicked enough, to have afforded any just grounds for such jealousy?"

"On my life I believe not," replied Hume. "The queen makes no secret of her liking for handsome young men; and Alex is certainly as fine a looking lad as ever mounted a horse or drew a sword. She contends strongly, too, for that liberty of action which we northern people do not conceive a privilege of fair ladies. She will go where she likes, do what she likes, and see whom she likes, without being responsible to any tribunal but that of conscience. This is her doctrine; and, by Heaven, she practises what she preaches. The king may make himself as absolute as he will out of his own house, but he will not be despotic there very easily. Then again, her majesty likes the gallant part of the old chivalry, and thinks that love and devotion are every lady's due from every courtly gentleman. There must be a touch of romantic passion in it, too, to please her; and she goes into these little amourettes in the most light-hearted way possible, without a thought of evil, I do believe. It is all too open--too bold, to be criminal. But the king, on the contrary, takes a very different view of these matters. While he claims to himself the right of the utmost familiarity of manner and lightness of speech with man, woman, and child, he would have all ladies as prim and demure as nuns, and as obedient as a spaniel dog. In point of policy, Alex committed a great error in attaching himself to the queen instead of to the king, for, it is sad to say, one cannot be a favourite with both."

"I would rather he were a favourite with neither," said Gowrie. "He might serve both, love both, merit the friendship of both; but to be the minion of either king or queen is not for one of my race."

"Well, well," answered his friend, "he is still a very young man, but right at heart, I am sure; and I trust he will see that these gallantries with the queen, however innocent, are, at the least, improper."

"I must make him see it," said Gowrie, and turned the conversation, which ended soon after by Hume leaving him to his own thoughts.

The following morning broke cold and cheerless; but at as early an hour as was consistent with propriety, Gowrie presented himself at the palace, and was readily admitted to an audience. The king was in the act of pushing out of the room, with his own hands, in a jocular but somewhat rude manner, no less a personage than Sir Hugh Herries, saying, "There, get along with you. You are a saucy body, and were we not the best natured monarch that ever lived, we should not bear with your gibes.--Ah, my Lord of Gowrie! Now you've come for an answer to your letter, I ween?"

"If it may please your majesty to give me one," answered Gowrie, with as grave a face as he could put on, while the king retired into his cabinet again, and took his seat.

"You see, my lord," said James, with a very serious air, "this is a matter of much importance, and which requires full consideration and deliberation on our part. Now I'll warrant that you're for wanting to cut the matter short, and to be married to the lady directly;" and he looked up slily in the earl's face.

"My own inclination would of course lead as your majesty supposes," replied Gowrie; "and I think, in many points of view, it would be the best plan; but the lady herself desires that our union should be delayed till the month of September next, if it please your majesty to consent for that time."

"She's a very discreet young lady," said the king. "Feggs! most lasses would be all agog to be a married woman, and Countess of Gowrie. Well, my lord, we'll consider of it."

Gowrie now felt alarmed and mortified. Whether the king had changed his mind since the preceding night, or whether he was merely sporting with his feelings for his own amusement, the young lover felt a degree of impatience which he was afraid would break forth in some angry words if he stayed longer; and therefore, with a silent bow, but a heated cheek and disappointed air, he retired towards the door.

James let him reach it and lay his hand upon the lock, but then stopped him, exclaiming, "Hoot, man, come hither--don't go away in the dorts, like a petted bairn. Come hither to your king, who is willing to act as a good and kind father to you and to all his leal subjects, if they will let him."

Gowrie returned with a brighter look. "There, now," continued James, who in many instances was acute enough; "you are laughing now; and I'll warrant that your titty, or the lad Alex, has been telling you of the grace and favour we intend to show you."

"I can assure your majesty," answered Gowrie, "that I have neither seen nor heard from my brother or sister during the last four or five days; but I can perceive, by your majesty's countenance, that you intend to deal graciously with me in this matter."

"I'm thinking you're a false chiel," said James, laughing; "and you think that a fine fleeching speech, about my countenance, as you call it; but I'll tell you what, earl, if I thought my face would tell what I'm thinking of when I didn't want it, I'd claw the skin off it with my own ten fingers; for let me inform you, sir, it's a principal point of kingcraft to be able to speak with a sober and demure countenance, whatever the matter in hand may be, whether merry and jocose, or sad and serious. Men should never be able to tell, by the looks of a sovereign, whether he be thinking of a burial or a marriage, a birth or a death."

"But wise kings, sire," answered Gowrie, "are ever apt to double the value of the favours they confer by gracious looks and words."

"That's well said," said the king, with an inclination of his head. "That's spoken like a prudent and well-nurtured lad; and we do intend graciously towards you, and will give you proof thereof. We will consent to your marriage with this lady in the month of September next, as you suppose; and, moreover, we will give you that consent in writing, for there are certain conditions which, as you know well, you yourself agreed to, and which we have embodied here in this paper, as a sort of proviso, qualifying our consent."

Gowrie was a little startled by this announcement; but the king soon relieved him from all anxiety, by showing him the paper, which was to the effect that he, the king, authorized and consented to the marriage of John Earl of Gowrie and the Lady Julia Douglas, a ward of the crown, upon the condition that the Lady Julia Douglas should previously execute, in due form, a renunciation of all claims, founded upon any grounds whatsoever, to the lands of Whiteburn, and to all other estates, money, goods, or chattels whatsoever, once in possession of the last Earl of Morton. Otherwise the authorization was to have no effect. The sense was enveloped in an immense mass of legal verbiage, which would have been totally unintelligible to any one unacquainted with the language of the Scottish courts; but Gowrie had made a point of bestowing some study upon the laws of his native land, and the meaning was quite clear to him.

"To these conditions I agree at once, sire," he said; "and am willing to give your majesty an undertaking, under any penalty you please, that the renunciation specified shall be made."

James caught readily at this idea; and being fond of showing his skill in such matters, he at once drew up, with his own hand, the form of undertaking which was proposed, and to which Gowrie willingly put his hand, on receiving the written consent of the king to his marriage.

"And now, my lord, away to Trochrie," cried the king, as Gowrie kissed his hand, "and bring your bonny birdy out of her nest.--Ay, you may stare, and look stupified, but if you think you can hoodwink your king like a gyr falcon on its perch, you'll find yourself mistaken, like many another man has been.--Well, well, say nothing about it. We forgive you, man; and if you don't think us the most gracious monarch that ever lived, you're an ungrateful lad."

"Indeed, sire, I do think your majesty most gracious," replied Gowrie, a good deal moved; "and I will do my best to prove my gratitude; but before I go to Trochrie, I had better have this renunciation drawn up in due form by some people of the law, that I may at once obtain the Lady Julia's signature, and lay it at your majesty's feet."

To this plan James cordially acceded; and Gowrie, taking his leave, was retiring to share his joy with his sister Beatrice, and to endeavour to persuade his brother to withdraw from the court, where his presence was a source of jealousy and dissension, when there was a gentle tap at the door, and an usher put in his head, saying, "Here is the Italian merchant, may it please your majesty."

"Bring him in--bring him in," cried James. "Stay a little, my good lord; this is a man from the country you know so well, bringing wares to show us, and we will have your judgment upon his bonny toys."

Gowrie would fain have escaped, but there was no resource; and the Italian merchant, as he was called, though in fact he might have ranked better as a pedlar, was brought into the king's presence. The young earl instantly recognised a man from whom he himself had occasionally purchased wares in Padua, which was at that time famous for its manufactories of silk; and the merchant himself, after saluting the king, made him a low bow.

"Ah, you two have met before, I suppose," said the king. "But come, open your chest, man, and let us see what you've brought."

The goods were soon produced, consisting principally of ribbons and laces, which might have better suited the examination of a lady than of a king; and James selected several articles for purchase with not the very best taste in the world. He asked Gowrie's opinion upon them before he concluded his bargain; and the earl, though not a very excellent courtier, was sufficiently learned in that craft not to speak disparagingly of the king's taste. At length an exceedingly beautiful ribbon was produced, wrought with figures of blue and gold, so thick and massive, that it seemed better fitted for a sword-belt than anything else; but James fixed eagerly upon it, declaring he would present it to the queen. He soon after suffered the earl to depart, keeping the Italian merchant with him; and as soon as the door was closed, he said, in a familiar tone, "You knew that lad in Italy, I suppose, my man?"

The Italian replied in the affirmative; and James, whose curiosity was inexhaustible, proceeded to question him upon all he knew regarding Gowrie's history. The good man had no idea whatsoever of doing harm; but we all know how one tale leads on another, especially under the hands of one skilful in extracting anecdotes; and although almost all the Italian had to say was favourable to the earl, though he told how he had been elected unanimously Lord Rector, at a very early period, and how his conduct had given such satisfaction, that the university had placed his portrait in the great hall, yet he went on to add that he believed the earl had conceived some disgust in the end from the treatment of one to whom he was much attached.

James proceeded to question him eagerly on this hint, and soon drew forth the Italian's version of the history of poor Manucci. Truth and fiction were mingled in the usual proportion of a tale so told; but magic and witchcraft were favourite topics with the king; and from the gossiping style in which it first began, his conversation gradually deviated into disquisition, and afterwards almost took the form of a judicial examination, as he questioned and cross-questioned the poor merchant in regard to Manucci's skill in diabolical arts, and Gowrie's connexion with him. The good man, anxious to curry favour with the monarch, and restrained by no very great scruples of conscience, would probably have said anything that the king liked, and certainly, in the matter of suggestion, James did not fail to supply him with indications of his own opinions.

The belief in such arts as sorcery and witchcraft seems in our eyes at the present day so ludicrous, that we can hardly bring our minds to believe that in former times the great mass of all classes, high and low, were fully persuaded that power could be obtained by mortals over certain classes of evil spirits. But such was undoubtedly the case at the time I speak of; and the effect was often most disastrous. In the present instance, James took care not to inform the Italian of the conclusions to which he came in regard to Gowrie; and it may be sufficient in this case to state that when he dismissed the merchant, he remained with an impression very unfavourable to the young earl, which, combined with other causes, did not fail to produce bitter fruit at an after period.