An' eke the Sheriff also—'"
I said, "Sure, Mistress, the Sheriff in that Song came to no Good—I wist not ye had so much Pride."
J J
"Make way for the Sheriff's Daughter"
She looked about on me with her sweet, smiling Face, and said, "I've no Pride for myself, Edward, but I may have for him!—May I not? may I not?" playfully calling after me as I turned away. I said, "Oh, forsooth, Mistress, ye can do no Wrong."
"Is that in jest or earnest?" saith she, growing serious. "Am I proud, Edward?"
When I saw her wistful Look, and thought within me how much indeed she had to be both proud and vain of, yet was neither, I could carry it no farther, but said, "In sooth, sweet Mistress, you are not."
"All's right then," quod she gaily, and hastened to the Window to see the new Sheriff mount his gray Horse, richly caparisoned. Thereafter, Miles and I attended her and Mistress Fraunces to the River Stairs, where the Company were to embark on a Pleasure-party; I thought the Barge had a goodly and lovely Freight!
Meantime, the Rumour of the Queen's Match occasioned great Murmuring throughout the Land. And Sir Thomas Wyat, a Kentish Gentleman, concerted with the Duke of Suffolk and Sir Peter Carew to take Arms and promote a general Rising, so soon as the Prince of Spain should set Foot on English Ground. The Duke, no Doubt, looked for the Re-establishment of his Daughter, Lady Jane, now under Sentence, but allowed the Liberty of the Tower. Sir Thomas, Son to that Wyat of Allington Castle who writ good Verses, had oft been Ambassadour to Spain, where the Cruelty and Subtlety of the People made him tremble at the Thought of their obtaining a Footing in his native Land. But alack! Hew, how many crying Evils must conspire together to give any just Pretence for a Rising against constituted Authorities! And a defeated Rebellion always strengthens the Hands of Government. So it was in this Instance. We had not as yet been visited with Scourges nor whipped with Scorpions; 'twas only the Fear of what might be, (presaged, 'tis true enough, by many Foretokens,) that tempted Men to shed Blood and endanger their Heads for the Sake of their Country. Wherefore, a Bird of the Air, I suppose, carrying the Matter, Sir Peter Carew, finding the Plot bewrayed, takes Thought only for himself, and flies over Seas; and Wyat, thinking the Hour unripe, yet purposing rather to hurry forward than retreat, taketh Arms with the declared Aim of doing no Hurt to the Queen's Person, but of removing her evil Counsellors.