"You never told me before, that I might," quod she, turning scarlet, and then bursting into Tears. I sprang towards her, but she brake away from me, and was gone in a Moment. Master Hewet leaned back in his Chair and smiled. "Methinks, Ned," quod he, "the Day is thine, this Time." And, taking the Ring off his Finger, that he had shown Lord Howard of Effingham on the Bridge, "See," quod he, "how long I have destined her for thee!"
—Here 'tis, Hew—I always wear it now. Thou mark'st the Posy:
"He that did save,
The same shall have."
—Many a goodly Hereditament had I with her, too ... the Barking Estate, and those Yorkshire Lands inclusive. The Settings of my Ring, Lad! no more—the Casket that went with my Treasure—the binding of my Book.
So now thou seest how thou mayest wait a little longer for fair Mistress Joyeuse, without fuming and chafing, lest this Hurt, got in a good Cause, should lose thee thy Place among thy Rivals. Tut, Lad, 'twill only grace thee in her Eyes all the more! See how Things came round in my Case. I had not half thy good Favour, nor the brightness that a Sword carrieth in a Woman's Eyes. "A plain Man, dwelling in Tents...." Nothing more!
Well, what remains to tell? We married, we were happy? Thou knowest it, and yet sayest, "Go on." Anne and I were married early in the October of that Year; and on the 29th of that same Month, Master Hewet was chosen Lord Mayor of London, and knighted at Westminster. What a Pageant we got up for him! I was a young Husband, full of Spirits, and ready for Anything that came in my Way, Feasting or Fighting; in special, then, to do Honour to him unto whom, under Heaven, I owed all earthly Good. So I took Council with the Master-revellers; and, between us, we concocted as pretty a Subtlety as ever was devised! Don't laugh, Sirrah! you'd have thought it very fine. There was the Symbol of our Mystery, a Golden Ram, ridden by a little Child, cherub-like for Beauty, followed by rustical Shepherds and Shepherdesses with Pipes and Tabors and flower-wreathed Crooks. Then came the Players of the Pageant, which was the Story of Apollo keeping the Flocks of Admetus, and helping him to win his fair Wife; all which was to be enacted at the proper Time on a goodly Stage representing a pastoral Wilderness, with Trees, Bushes, Shrubs, Brambles, and Thickets, interspersed with Birds and Beasts. In the Midst, Apollo playing on his Lyre: on either Side a Satyr, mopping, mowing, and curvetting. This was, as you may plainly perceive, altogether diverse from and very superior to the Drapers' tasteless Pageant of Salisbury Plain, whereon were assembled Shepherds, Shepherdesses, Carders, Spinners, Dyers, Wool-combers, Shermen, Dressers, Fullers, Weavers, without any Order or Propriety.
J Jellicoe
The Masque