"And, dear heart! how shall we find to our hands aught fit for such an one to drink? Why, the meanest matter that hath passed his lips, I warrant you, shall be Malmsey or claret wine at sixpence the gallon.[#] And I doubt not he hath ate pike[#] and marmalade every day to his dinner; aye, peacocks and rice, too."
[#] A high price at this time; threepence or fourpence a gallon was the cost of ordinary wine.
[#] Pike was now the most costly fish in the market, being ten times the value of cod and turbot. Marmalade was about two shillings or half-a-crown the pound; peacocks, about three shillings each, were reserved for the nobility; rice was very scarce and dear.
"Well, then," rejoined Cicely, "it shall be a change for him to come down to cod and bacon. I dare reckon he never tasted them."
A few days later, Mrs. Goose made a deprecatory remark of the same kind to the Duke himself. It was met with a smile which was a blending of sadness and amusement, and an assurance that for eighteen mouths of his life he had never dined at all, and could therefore easily afford to put up with inexpensive fare now. Mrs. Goose was struck to silence—until she reached the kitchen, when she made up for it in notes of exclamation.
The life passed by the Duke in his retirement was very quiet. He had brought with him a collection of books which struck the unaccustomed eyes of his hosts with the magnitude of a public library. But John, who was used to make quiet observation of all that passed under his eyes, noticed that one after another of these was gradually laid aside upon the shelf and left unused, until the number was reduced to two, which continued in daily employment. He was curious to know what they were: but as he could not read, it was of no use to open them. At last, one day when Father Alcock came, and the Duke was out, John brought the two books to the Friar, and asked to be told what they were.
"The Confessions of St. Austin, my son," answered the monk, opening the one that came first: "an holy volume, and good."
"And this, Father?" pursued John, offering the other.
"A better, my son, for it is the best of all—the true Word of God, that liveth and abideth for ever. Here be the Psalms of David, and the New Testament, bound in one, and in the Latin tongue."
John put the volumes back in his lodger's room with a feeling of satisfaction. It gratified him also to see how regularly the Duke attended the weekly "monition." In all other respects, the lodger made little impression on the household, and less on the world outside. He dressed as an ordinary gentleman: and as soon as he had ceased to be a nine days' wonder to the Joans and Megs of the neighbourhood, nobody took further notice of him. John Goose found him a very silent man, who dealt chiefly in matter-of-fact when he spoke at all, and sometimes heaved sighs which went to his young host's tender heart. No one ever came to see him but his servant Will Sterys: and he kept indoors until the dusk had fallen. And so the days went on.