I felt myself white with wrath then, and was for blindly wrestling
with a great fellow who was among the foremost, shaking with mirth,
an oak wreath over his red curls making him look like a satyr, when
Mistress Mary rode between us. "Back, Master Wingfield," said she,
"I pray thee stand back." Then she looked at the folk, all smiles
and ready understanding of them, until they hurrahed again and rang
their bells and blew their horns, and she looked like a blossom
tossed on the wave of pandemonium.
I had my hand on her bridle-rein, ready to do my best should any
rudeness be offered her, when suddenly she raised her hand and made
a motion, and to my utter astonishment the brawling throng, save for
some on the outskirts, which quieted presently, became still. Then
Mistress Mary's voice arose, clear and sweet, with a childish note
of innocence in it: "Good people," said she, "fain would I be your Maid Marion, and fain
would I be your queen of May, if you would hold with me this Kingdom
of Virginia against tyrants and oppressors."
I question if a dozen there grasped her meaning, but, after a
second's gaping stare, such a shout went up that it seemed to make
the marshes quiver. I know not what mad scheme was in the maid's
head, but I verily believe that throng would have followed her
wherever she led, and the tobacco plants might have been that
morning cut had she so willed.
But I pulled hard at her bridle, and I forgot my customary manner
with her, so full of terror for her I was. "For God's sake, child,
have done," I said, and she looked at me, and there came a strange
expression, which I had never seen before, into her blue eyes, half
of yielding as to some strength which she feared, and half of that
high enthusiasm of youth and noble sentiment which threatened to
swamp her in its mighty flow as it had done her hero Bacon before
her. I know not if I could have held her; it all passed in a second
the while those wild huzzas continued, and the crowd pressed closer,
all crowned and crested with green, like a tidal wave of spring, but
another argument came to me, and that moved her. "'Tis not yourself
alone, but your sister and Madam Cavendish to suffer with you," I
said. Then she gave a quick glance at Catherine, who was raising her
white face and trying to get near enough to speak to her, for her
sister's speech had made her frantic with alarm, and hesitated. Then
she laughed, and the earnest look faded from her face, and she
called out with that way of hers which nobody and nothing could
withstand, "Nay," she said, "wait till I be older and have as much
wisdom in my head as hath the Maid Marion whom you have chosen. The
one who hath seen so many Mays can best know how to queen it over
them." So saying, she snatched the wreath with which they had
crowned her from her head and cast it with such a sweep of grace as
never I saw over the head of flax-headed and masked Maid Marion, and
reined her horse back, and the crowd, with worshipful eyes of
admiration of her and her sweetness and wit and beauty, gave way,
and was off adown the road toward Jarvis Field, with loud clamour of
bells and horns and wild dancing and wavings of their gad-sticks and
green branches. Mistress Mary rode before us at a gallop, and
presently we were all at the breakfast table in the great hall at
Drake Hill, with foaming tankards of metheglin and dishes of honey
and salmon and game in plenty. For, whatever the scarcity of the
king's gold, there was not much lack of food in this rich country.