This man was, in fact, a somewhat extraordinary individual, and in possession of considerable talent; one who, in our own times, would have most likely been either a popular sectarian preacher, or a violent demagogue. But in Elizabeth's day, there being no proper vent for the effusion of such a spirit, he was merely the oracle of his gossiping society of his own town. Too indolent for real and useful work, he neglected his own business to spy into the affairs of his neighbours, and too dissipated for any profitable employment; except that he was kept from utter ruin by an industrious wife, he would, with all his wise saws, have starved.
The piece of news which had in the present instance reached Stratford, had called forth from Master Teazle a considerable harangue upon the state of the country, and the imminent danger Her Majesty's government, her own life, and the safety of themselves individually, were exposed to from the intrigues of the Catholics; and in taking upon him to expound what had already been done, he took upon him also to say what should be done.
"I maintain, my masters all," said he, "that these Jesuits should be pistolled like mad dogs wherever one can light upon them; for look ye, are they not educated, and brought up, and fed, and nourished, in superstition and bigotry? Are they not infused with a bitter hatred against our Queen, whom they treat as an usurper, a schismatic, a heretic, a persecutor of the orthodox, and one excommunicated and made horrible by the ridiculous Pope." Here he stopped and looked around with great importance. "Nay," he resumed, "look but upon this affair of the Prince of Orange! Sedition, rebellion, and assassination are the expedients by which they effect their purposes."
"For mine own part," said Master Lambe, the glover, "I know not precisely in what consists a Jesuit."
"Why, then, lament therefore," said Teazle, "since not to know in what consists a Jesuit, is not to know the danger to be apprehended from a Jesuit."
"Expound unto us, neighbour," said goodman Hyde, the tanner, "what is your version of such a wild beast?"
"Wild beast is a bad term to apply to a Jesuit," said Teazle, "as you will see by the story. To propound what is a Jesuit, we must e'en go back to the order of Jesuits founded at Douay by Philip of Spain; and thus it is:—he erected a seminary for Catholics to send their children to, in order that they might be brought up, and educated with a view to the crown of martyrdom. Neither to be deterred by danger nor fatigue from maintaining their principles. And into the breasts of these pupils is instilled the most inveterate hatred against Protestant England in general, and Stratford town in particular; and to our blessed Queen nothing but poison, steel, and perdition. Ahem!"
"There art thou wrong, brother," said Master Cramboy. "The order of Jesuits was erected when the Pope perceived that his lazy monks and beggarly friars sufficed no longer to defend the Church, and that the unquiet spirit of the age required something more keen, active, and erudite to defend it."
"Well, neighbour, well," said Teazle, (who was generally somewhat in awe of the learning of the pedant), "I sit corrected. Be it, however, as it may, you will bear with me in holding that prevarication, and every stratagem which serves their ghostly purposes, are the especial privileges of the Order."
"Thereafter, as may be," said Cramboy; "we will discuss that point anon. Meanwhile, thou art right, insomuch that the seminary you have mentioned, and which the Cardinal of Lorraine has imitated at Rheims, and the Pope has also followed the example of at Rome, are all under the direction of Jesuits—violent, intolerant, and dangerous. And, therefore, may Heaven bless our glorious Queen, who put that caitiff Campion to the rack so lately, and broke his bones under the very nose of the Duke of Alencon, whilst he was making suit for her hand in marriage."
"A decent hint to him of the sort of martyrdom he might expect in case his suit was a successful one," said John Shakespeare, laughing.
"A grievous martyrdom had all England suffered, an the French duke had prospered," said Teazle.
"'Twere best not to pursue that theme, neighbour," said Master Lambe, "lest we run into dangerous ground, like Charles Arundel Stubbs, of Lincoln's Inn, who wrote a book, and called it 'The Gulph in which England was to be swallowed by the French marriage,' and lost his right hand, as a libeller, for his pains."
"A severe sentence upon a loyal subject," said Cramboy, "for look ye how Stubbs bore his punishment! I was there, and saw him suffer. He took his hat off with his left hand, and waving it over his head, cried, 'God save good Queen Elizabeth!' Methinks the right hand of such a man would have been better unlopped. It might have done good service hereafter."
"Go to, my masters, 'enough said is soonest mended,' as the old saw goes. An I were the Queen, after what has happened, I would take Spain by the beard," said Teazle; "for look ye, my masters all, how that king of red-hot ploughshares and burning pincers groweth more powerful daily. Already hath he made himself lord of Portugal, and gained settlements in the Indies; not only arrogating to himself the commerce of those regions, but all the princes of Italy, and even the Pope of Rome, are reduced to subjection beneath his sway. Austria and Germany, too, are connected with, and ready to supply him with troops at his beck. See, too, how the bloated toad sitteth upon his throne, swelling and sweltering in wealth as well as bigotry; with all the treasures of the Western Ind in his diadem."
"O' my word, neighbour," said Master Lambe, "an such be the case I should be chary, an I were the Queen, of chasing such a swollen reptile, lest he spit poison upon me, and burnt me up with the breath of his powerful nostrils; methinks, an I were Her Majesty, I should be careful how I gave my crown to the chance of battle with such an enemy."
"Go to, neighbour," returned Teazle, "thou lookest but along thy nose, and no farther. See'st thou not that what must come will come; and will come, may come when most unwelcome. Now, an I were the Queen, I would take Philip of Spain by the nose at once, ere the Netherlands relapse again into servitude, assailed as they are by those veteran armies employed against them. By my manhood, I say Elizabeth should at once trust to her people, and assault the whole force of the Catholic monarch ere it grow so great that it will swallow up the world. Nay, an I were appointed general-in-chief, I would conduct an army over to Holland, and deliver the country from the danger at once."
"Perhaps, neighbour," said John Shakespeare, "you have heard a rumour that some such measure has in truth been thought of. A power of dauntless spirits are, it is said, at this moment assembling under the Earl of Leicester."
"A fico for the Earl of Leicester," said Teazle; "pr'ythee what sort of a soldier is he to oppose against the experienced captains and sturdy infantry of Spain? Now, an I had been called to name the man fit for such command I should have named——"
"Thyself," said Cramboy. "Ah, ah! a very pretty piece of soldiership we should have in thee."
"Thou hast said it, not I, neighbour," returned Teazle. "But, an I had said myself, I had at least named one quite as equal to the emergency of the case as the man of rings and carcanets, of broaches and feathers, thou hast just named."
"Methinks 'twere wise not to pursue such comparison further," said Master Lambe; "'twere best for those to speak civily of the bear who are such near neighbours to his hold, lest the ragged staff reach our coxcombs."
"What gentlemen of note are engaged in this expedition?" inquired Cramboy.
"I hear," said John Shakespeare, "that he carries with him a glorious retinue, being accompanied by the young Earl of Essex, Lords Audley and North, Sir William Russell, Sir Thomas Shirly, Sir Arthur Basset, Sir Walter Waller, and Sir Gervase Clifton, added to which five hundred gentlemen ride in his select troop."