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Updated: May 16, 2025
Surprised at so unusual an occurrence the Minister hastened to greet his visitor, ordering, as was his custom, that a light repast be set before him. "And what now, good Monteagle?" asked he, looking at his companion with a smile, "hast thy digestion played thee false again?" "Of that thou shalt judge, my lord," replied Monteagle, taking the letter from his doublet and handing it to the Minister.
The Irishman has neither the pleasure of savage liberty, nor the profit of English civilization." "I think," adds Mr. Gibson, "the present the proper time for noticing the panegyric passed by Lord Monteagle on the gentry of this country for their liberality.
During the last week of October, sixteen hundred and five, near the day for the convening of Parliament, Lord Monteagle suddenly appeared in his house at Hoxton, from which he had been absent a month. His manner was perturbed and preoccupied in the extreme.
But honour, what is honour in these dishonourable days? This is my reward. She contrived to enter my house this evening, dressed like a farmer's boy, and you may imagine what ensued; rage, hysterics, and repentance. I am sure if Monteagle had seen me, he would not have been jealous.
They were alarmed for a time, and sought solution of the problem, wishing to know who had played the traitor. Suspicion pointed to one Francis Tresham, whose sister had married Monteagle, and who, naturally, would seek to save his brother-in-law. But as Tresham denied all knowledge of the matter, the government made no move, and even Salisbury, usually alert, remained inactive.
I met him yesterday at Fanshawe's. He amused himself by eating only biscuits, and calling for soda water, while we quaffed our Burgundy. How very original! What a thing it is to be a great poet! 'Perverse, provoking mortal! exclaimed Lady Monteagle. 'And on what should a poet live? On coarse food, like you coarse mortals?
"My lord!" cried Monteagle, perceiving the Minister was in a mood for jesting, "hast thou had no fear that some hidden danger might lurk beneath the calm exterior of the peace which covers England? Do not smile, but hear me. Thou knowest the Viscount Effingston is in France, at the Court of Henry, and hath mingled much with some who are close to the throne.
"England is at peace, the King seated firm upon his throne, and the Ship of State rides on an even keel. Hast dreamed of treason, my Lord Monteagle?"
'Have you seen Cadurcis to-day? said Lord Monteagle. 'Of course, said her ladyship. 'He dines here? 'To be sure. I am reading his new poem; it will not be published till to-morrow. 'Is it good? 'Good! What crude questions you do always ask, Henry! exclaimed Lady Monteagle. 'Good! Of course it is good. It is something better than good. 'But I mean is it as good as his other things?
Lady Monteagle, whose eye had never left him for a moment, although her attentions had been necessarily commanded by her guests, and who dreaded the silent rages in which Cadurcis constantly indulged, and which, when once assumed for the day, were with difficulty dissipated, seized the first opportunity to join and soothe him. 'Dear Cadurcis, she said, 'why do you sit here?
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