Conversation As It Was By The Fireside In The Time of the Tudors

by Mark Twain

1601, or

CONVERSATION AS IT WAS BY THE FIRESIDE IN THE TIME OF THE TUDORS

by Mark Twain

Yesternight toke her maiste ye queene a fantasie such as she sometimes hath, and hadde to her closet certain that doe write playes, bokes, and such like, these being my lord Bacon, his worship Sr Walter Ralegh, Mr. Ben Jonson, and ye childe Francis Beaumonte, which being but sixteen, hath yet turned his hande to ye doing of ye Lattin masters into our Englishe tong, wh grete discretion and much applaus. Also came wh these ye famous Shaxpur. A righte straunge mixing truly of mightie blode wh mean, ye more in especial since ye queenes grace was present, as likewise these following, to wit: Ye Duchess of Bilgewater, twenty-two yeres of age; ye Countesse of Granby, twenty-six; her doter, ye Lady Helen, fifteen; as also these two maides of honour, to wit: ye Lady Margery Boothy, sixty-five, and ye Lady Alice Dilberry, turned seventy, she being two yeres ye queenes graces elder.

I being her maistes cup-bearer, hadde no choice but to remaine and beholde rank forgot, and ye high holde converse wh ye low as uppon equal termes, a grete scandal did ye world heare therof.

In ye heat of ye talk it befell yt one did breake wynde, yielding an exceding mightie and distresful stink, whereat all did laffe full sore, and then -

Ye Queene. - Verily in mine eight and sixty yeres have I not heard the fellow to this fart. Meseemeth, by ye grete sounde and clamour of it, it was male; yet ye belly it did lurk behinde shoulde now fall leane and flat against ye spine of him yt hath bene delivered of so stately and so vast a bulk, wheras ye guts of them yt doe quiff-splitters beare, stande comely still and rounde. Prithee let ye author confes ye offspring. Will my Lady Alice testify?

Lady Alice. - Good your grace, an' I hadde room for such a thunderbust within mine ancient bowels, 'tis not in reason I coulde discharge ye same and live to thank God for yt He did choose handmaide so humble wherby to shew his power. Nay, 'tis not I yt have broughte forth this rich and o'ermastering fog, this fragrant bloom, so pray ye seeke ye further.

Ye Queene. - Mayhap ye Lady Margery hath done ye company this favour?

Lady Margery. - So please ye madam, my limbs are feeble wh ye weighte and drouth of five and sixty winters, and it behoveth yt I be tender unto them. In ye good providence of God, an' I hadde contained this wonder, forsoothe wolde I have gi'en ye whole evening of my sinking life to ye dribbling of it forth, wh trembling and uneasy soul, not launched it sudden in its matchless might, taking mine own life wh violence, rending my weak frame like rotten rags. It was not I, your maiste.

Ye Queene. - O' God's name who hath favoured us? Hath it come to pass yt a fart shall fart itself? Not such a one as this, I trow. Young Master Beaumonte - but no; 'twolde have wafted him to heav'n like down of gooses boddy. 'Twas not ye little Lady Helen - nay, ne'er blush, my childe; thou'lt tickle thy tender maidenhedde with many a mousie-squeak before thou learnest to blow a harricane like this. Was't you, my learned and ingenious Jonson?

Jonson. - So fell a blast hath ne'er mine ears saluted, nor yet a stench so all-pervading and immortal. 'Twas not a novice did it, good your maiste, but one of veteran experience - else hadde he failed of confidence. In soothe it was not I.

Ye Queene. - My Lord Bacon?

Lord Bacon. - Not from mine lean entrails hath this prodigie burst forth, so pleas your grace. Naught doth so befit ye grete as grete performance; and haply shall ye finde yt 'tis not from mediocrity this miracle hath issued.

[Tho' ye subject be but a fart, yet will this tedious sink of learning pondrously phillosophize. Meantime did the foul and deadly stink pervade all places to that degree, yt never smelt I ye like, yet dare I not to leave ye presence, albeit I was like to suffocate.]

Ye Queene. - What saith ye worshipful Master Shaxpur?

Shaxpur. - In the grete hand of God I stande and so proclaim mine innocence. Though ye sinless hosts of heav'n hadde foretolde ye coming of this most desolating breath, proclaiming it a work of uninspired man, its quaking thunders, its firmament-clogging rottenness, its own achievement in due course of nature, yet hadde not I believed it; but hadde said the pit itself hath furnished forth the stink, and heav'ns artillery hath shook the globe in admiration of it.

[Then there was a silence, and each did turn him toward the worshipful Sr Walter Ralegh that browned, embattled, bloody swashbuckler, who rising up did smile, and simpering say]

Sr W. - Most gracious maiste, 'twas I that did it, but indeed it was so poor and frail a note, compared wh such as I am wont to furnish, yt in sooth I was ashamed to call the weakling mine in so august a presence. It was nothing - less than nothing, madam - I did it but to clear my nether throat; but hadde I come prepared, then hadde I delivered something worthie. Bear wh me, pleas your grace, till I can make amends.

[Then delivered he himself of such a godless and rock-shivering blast that all were fain to stoppe their ears, and following it did come so dense and foul a stink that yt which went before did seem a poor and trifling thing beside it. Then saith he, feigning that he blushed and was confused, I perceive that I am weak to-day, and cannot justice do unto my powers: and sat him down as who shoulde say, There it is not much; yet he yt hath an arse to spare, let him follow yt, an think he can. By God, an I were ye Queene, I wolde e'en tip this swaggering braggart out o' the court, and let him air his grandeurs and breake his intolerable wynde before ye deaf and such as suffocation pleaseth.]

Then felle they to talk about ye manners and customs of many peoples, and Master Shaxpur spake of ye boke of ye sieur Michael de Montaine, wherein was mention of ye customs of widows of Perigord to wear uppon ye headdress, in signe of widowhood, a jewel in ye similitude of a man's member wilted and limber, wherat ye queene did laffe and say, Widows in England doe wear prickes too, but betwixt the thighs, and not wilted neither, till coition hath done that office for them. Master Shaxpur did likewise observe how yt ye sieur de Montaine hath also spoken of a certain emperor of such mightie prowess yt he did take ten maidenheddes in ye compass of a single night, ye while his empress did entertain two and twenty lusty knights between her sheetes, yet was not satisfied; wherat ye merrie Countesse Granby saith a ram is yet ye emperor's superior, sith he will tup a hundred yewes 'twixt sun and sun; and after, if he can have none more to shag, will masturbate until he hath enrich'd whole acres wh his seed.

Then spake ye damned windmill, Sr Walter, of a people in ye utermost parts of America, yt copulate not until they be five and thirty yeres of age, ye women being eight and twenty, and do it then but once in seven yeres.

Ye Queene. - How doth yt like mine little Lady Helen? Shall we send thee thither and preserve thy belly?

Lady Helen. - Please your highness grace, mine old nurse hath told me there are more ways of serving God than by locking the thighs together; yet am I willing to serve him yt way too, sith your highnesses grace hath set ye ensample.

Ye Queene. - God's wowndes, a good answer, childe.

Lady Alice. - Mayhap 'twill weaken when ye hair sprouts below ye navel.

Lady Helen. - Nay, it sprouted two yeres syne. I can scarce more than cover it with my hand now.

Ye Queene. - Hear ye that, my little Beaumonte? Have ye not a little birde about ye yt stirs at hearing tell of so sweete a neste?

Beaumonte. - 'Tis not insensible, illustrious madam; but mousing owls and bats of low degree may not aspire to bliss so whelming and ecstatic as is founde in ye downie nestes of birdes of Paradise.

Ye Queene. - By the gullet of God, 'tis a neat-turned compliment. With such a tong as thine, lad, thou'lt spread the ivory thighs of many a willing maide in thy good time, an thy cod-piece be as handie as thy speeche.

Then spake ye queene of how she met olde Rabelaise when she was turned of fifteen, and he did tell her of a man his father knew yt hadde a double pair of bollocks, wheron a controversy followed as concerning the most just way to spell the word, ye contention running high betwixt ye learned Bacon and ye ingenious Jonson, until at last ye olde Lady Margery, wearying of it all, saith, Gentles, what mattereth it how ye shall spell the word? I warrant ye when ye use your bollocks ye shall not think of it; and my Lady Granby, be ye content; let the spelling be, ye shall enjoy the beating of them on your buttocks just the same, I trow. Before I hadde my fourteenth yere I hadde learned yt them yt wolde explore a cunte stop't not to consider the spelling o't.

Sr. W. - In soothe, when a shift's turned uppe, delay is mete for naught but dalliance. Boccaccio hath a story of a prieste yt did beguile a maide into his cell, then knelt him in a corner to praye for grace to be rightly thankful for this tender maidenhedde ye Lord hath sent him; but ye abbot, spying through ye key-hole, did see a tuft of brownish hair with fair white flesh about it, wherfor when ye prietes prayer was done, his chance was gone, forasmuch as ye little maide hadde but ye one cunte, and yt was already occupied to her content.

Then conversed they of religion, and ye mightie work ye olde dead Luther did doe by ye grace of God. Then next about poetry, and Master Shaxpur did rede a part of his King Henry IV, ye which, it seemeth unto me, is not of the value of an arseful of ashes, yet they praised it bravely, one and all.

Ye same did rede a portion of his ÒVenus and AdonisÓ to their prodigious admiration, wheras I, being sleepy and fatigued withal, did deme it but paltry stuff, and was the more discomfited in yt ye blodie bucanier hadde got his secconde wynde, and did turn his mind to farting wh such villain zeal that presently I was like to choke once more. God damn this wyndie ruffian and all his breed. I wolde yt hell mighte get him.

They talked about ye wonderful defense which olde Sr Nicholas Throgmorton did make for himself before ye judges in ye time of Mary; which was an unlucky matter to broach sith it fetched out ye queene wh a Pity yt he, having so much wit, hadde yet not enough to save his doter's maidenhedde sounde for her marriage-bedde. And ye queene did give ye damn'd Sr Walter a look yt made hym wince - for she hath not forgot he was her own lover in yt olde day. There was silent uncomfortableness now; 'twas not a good turn for talk to take, sith if ye queene must find offense in a little harmless debauching, when prickes were stiff and cuntes not loath to take ye stiffness out of them, who of this companie was sinless? Beholde, was not ye wife of Master Shaxpur four months gone wh childe when she stood uppe before ye altar? Was not her Grace of Bilgewater roger'd by four lords before she hadde a husband? Was not ye little Lady Helen borne on her mother's wedding-day? And, beholde, were not ye Lady Alice and ye Lady Margery there, mouthing religion, whores from ye cradle?

In time they came to discourse of Cervantes, and of the new painter, Rubens, that is beginning to be heard of. Fine words and dainty-wrought phrases from the ladies now, one or two of them being, in other days, pupils of yt poor arse, Lille himself; and I marked how that Jonson and Shaxpur did fidget to discharge some venom of sarcasm, yet dared they not in the presence, ye queenes grace being ye very flower of ye Euphuists herself. But beholde, these be they yt, having a specialtie, and admiring in it themselves, be jealous when a neighbour doth essaye it, nor can abide it in them long. Wherfore 'twas observable yt ye queene waxed uncontent; and in time a labor'd grandiose speeche out of ye mouthe of Lady Alice, who manifestly did mightily pride herself theron, did quite exhauste ye queenes endurance, who listened till ye gaudie speeche was done, then lifted uppe her brows, and wh vaste ironie, mincing saith, O shitte! Wherat they alle did laffe, but not ye Lady Alice, yt olde foolish bitche.

Now was Sr Walter minded of a tale he once did heare ye ingenious Margarette of Navarre relate, about a maide, which being like to suffer rape by an olde archbishoppe, did smartly contrive a device to save her maidenhedde, and said to him, First, my lord, I prithee, take out thy holy tool and pisse before me; which doing, lo! his member felle, and wolde not rise again.