Free The Pilgrim by Hugh Nissenson

bound for the metropolis.
    My uncle Roger said to me, “I have asked Mr. Wells to keep my accounts in your stead.”
    I said, “I am responsible for my father’s death.”
    â€œHis death was God’s will. Blame not yourself. Here is a farewell gift for you. Twenty pounds. Invest it wisely. The goldsmiths in London will give you a return of four or five percent for your money. Look to it! Fare thee well, my dear boy. Send me a simile from London. Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s a fine pair of kid gloves from my shop that will keep thy hands warm.”
    â€œThank you. I shall think of you when I wear them.”
    The wagon pulled away. For an instant, I thought I saw Mary amidst the crowd climbing Gallows Hill.

Part II

On the morning of the eleventh of May in the year of Christ 1618, I alighted from my wagon at the inn named The Sign of the Bear and Ragged Staff in Charing Cross, which is in the City of Westminster, a suburb without the walls of London. The inn was crowded with plump, muddy whores, boy prostitutes, and cutthroats armed with daggers. The press of rowdy maltbugs lugged ale, even as little pigs lug at their dam’s teats.
    I hastened back into the street and found Appletree’s chambers on the right hand.
    He said, “I was expecting you. My old friend Dashwood recommends you highly. My business is good, and I have thought for some time past of hiring another clerk. You come at the opportune moment. I favor the fortunate. They bring good luck. Dashwood writes that you studied Divinity at Cambridge but went down because of the death of your father.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œHence your mourning ring.”
    â€œHence my mourning ring. Yes, sir.”
    â€œThis gold and coral ring of mine, which cost me five pounds, is inscribed with magic signs that prevail against witchcraft, possession by the Devil, thunder, lightning, storm, and tempest. It hath overcome my enemies and made me famous in my profession. But it prevailed not against the smallpox. My daughter, Sarah, was stricken with the smallpox at the age of eleven. What about you?”
    â€œI was stricken less than a year ago, sir.”
    â€œYou will enjoy Sarah’s company. I had her well educated. ’Twas the least I could do. She sayeth with Virgil, ‘ Nimium ne crede colori !’”
    â€œI agree, sir. Trust not too much in your color; that is, your complexion. I took my complexion for granted. I never gave it a thought. God taught me otherwise.”
    He said, “So my friend Dashwood was correct. You have a command of Latin.”
    â€œI do, sir.”
    â€œShow me a sample of your handwriting. Copy this out.”
    I copied out some items of an inventory postmortem of the furnishings of Elizabeth, Lady Berkeley’s London house, viz.: “Item, five pieces of tapestry hangings of imagery; Item, a crimson rug, &c &c.,” and Appletree said, “You write a fair hand.”
    Then he said, “I will pay you six pounds per annum, together with room and board, to be my clerk. I have working for me another clerk and seven scriveners. I represent many London merchants who hire out their ships. You will be required to copy out their contracts, as well as others, along with various and sundry deeds, wills, inventories postmortem, and business letters. Some will be in English and some in Latin. Do you accept the position I am now offering you?”
    â€œI will, sir, gladly.”
    â€œDo you own a black cloak and hat?”
    â€œI have two worn black cloaks and a torn hat, sir. I need you to recommend to me a good tailor and haberdasher.”
    He told me where to find them nearby and said, “Buy yourself a simple cloak and hat. We should wear attire everyone to his degree, for it is very hard nowadays to know who is noble, who is worshipful, who is a gentleman, and who is not. You are not a nobleman, a cleric, nor a gentleman, but my clerk. Dress like