Two or three times in the year, it was our custom (my little cousin’s and mine) to go to Puckle Acton and take supper with good Mr Sternhold, the attorney. There was never there for us any lack of welcome on the part of Mrs Sternhold or himself; and their two comely daughters, Mrs Diony and Mrs Sisley, were wont to make much of me, and to show great kindness to my little cousin. It did much please them that we, being so young, were deemed troth-plight; and they did delight to set us side by side, and to cry out how pretty a couple we made, and then to incite me to show myself a courteous servant to that my little lady. But always after this was Dorothy wont to behave herself so coy and disdainful as ’tis impossible to conceive, and would try me with as many grievous slights as did ever the coldest and cruellest maid in the romances, so as I would threaten to go away into some foreign kingdom, and seek my fortune, far from my untender love, as did the knights of whom we read so often. And this also did mightily divert the two young damsels and their mother. ’Twas on my eighteenth birthday, at the close of the year 1664, that that occurred which enabled me, though without any knowledge of mine beforehand, to perform this frequent threat—nay, rather compelled me so to do. We had been supping at Mr Sternhold’s house, Dorothy and I, and as we returned she did most steadfastly refuse to take my hand through the woods, because, said she, I had had the misfortune to turn my back on her during the evening. And we wrangling and quarrelling over this mighty matter, the dispute lasted until we were come to the Hall, where I spake after my usual fashion, but Dorothy tossed her saucy head, and must needs say that I talked much of going to foreign parts, but should never go there. Then upon this scornful humour of hers brake in the voice of my father, that was sitting in his great chair in the study, with many papers upon the table before him.
“Son Edward,” says he, “I would fain speak with you.”
“At your pleasure, sir,” says I. “When shall I attend upon you?”
“Now,” says my father; “so soon as little Doll here be gone to bed.”
Dorothy kissed my father, though with a pout, made me a curtsey, and ran away, I shutting the door after her.
“You are now arrived at your eighteenth year, Ned?” says my father.
“Yes, sir,” says I. “I was born in the year that my Lord Fairfax took Oxford city, as I have heard you say.”
“True,” saith Sir Harry, “and you are come to this age without being bred to any trade or calling. Not that ’tis your fault, lad, but mine. ’Tis no news to you, my son, that we abide here truly only on sufferance of Sternhold, and that ’tis all I can do to keep up the house as we live at present. Wherefore you won’t be surprised when I say that I can neither send you to the university, even had you displayed any leaning thereto, nor yet maintain you while you seek a place in his Majesty’s service in foreign parts.”
“Indeed, no, sir,” says I.
“There remains, then,” said my father, “the life of a soldier; but now that the wars of Germany are ended, that an’t any longer a road to wealth by the means of large spoils and larger ransoms, and moreover, you are too old, for I hold that a lad should be bred to that calling from fourteen years, or fifteen at the most. Also there are now no such masters in the art of war as those I had the honour to observe in my young days, nor any such noble theatre as that wherein I observed ’em. And with regard to his majesty’s navy, I fear there is but little glory to be won there nowadays. The rebels were good sailors, even I will say that for ’em. And beside these, which we need not consider, there is two other places offer ’emselves to your choice, for I am willing you should choose which you will accept. Being lately reminded of your age and stature (and sure ’tis well I was reminded on’t, for I had clean forgot it), I writ to my lord Duke of London, son to my Lady Brandon’s uncle that did deal with me so kindly after Worcester Fight, and asked him to use his good offices with his majesty to gain for you some place or preferment. And to this my lord duke hath replied, with many civil words touching my care of little Doll there, his kinswoman, that places be now so few, and they that seek ’em so many, that he knows none for which he might make interest with his majesty on your behalf. Yet out of his remembrance of his parents’ ancient love for our house, his grace is good enough to offer you his nomination to the post of writer[3] in the India Company’s service, which if I accept on’t for you, his majesty hath been graciously pleased to command that the bond of £500, which must be entered into for your good behaviour, shall be pledged from his privy purse. Had it been but five hundred pence instead of pounds, I had never been able to pay ’em, and this, no doubt, in his singular great kindness, his majesty hath guessed. And with regard to this offer, I can say naught but good on’t. As for wealth, this is one of the straightest roads to’t, for though the wage be but £10 by the year for five years, and after that a convenient increase, yet are there many places of trust to be obtained, and, as I hear, many chances of trading on your own account, so that many gentlemen of that service are become by this means very rich. ’Tis true that you must needs leave your country for a term of years, but that is no more than I did myself, and many other noblemen and gentlemen that fought in that long war.”