The Printer's Devil (18 page)

Kim was aware of silence: the opera had finished. She relinquished the glass, hardly able to believe that she had been staring into it for the better part of two hours. Yet somehow she felt encouraged. This magical thing which Alan had not been able to control (she believed him that much) had yielded to her will; had shown her, too - the idea came newly-minted to her mind - a potential ally.

Had Roger Southwell been able to control what he saw in the glass? Or had he, like Alan, seen only demons and horrors?

They were hardly answerable questions, but the thought came to Kim that something had happened to time itself when the world skewed, and left it less rigid. She wondered whose face she had seen, and the idea had lodged in her mind that he was an ally, however many centuries he looked over at her.

Exhaling noisily, Kim leaned back. These were forces of which she knew nothing, could guess nothing. And there was no-one she could ask who was likely to know any more than she did.

Then she recalled the bookseller in Fenstanton.

James Rendall knew about Roger Southwell. What was it he’d said to them?
‘He was an alchemist, really; although his interests seem to have extended quite a bit further than that. They say he hung bells in his tower to keep away an evil spirit which was haunting him.’

The glass was blank now, smoky and vacant as a paperweight, but Kim could still see the face clearly in her mind’s eye, the intense and desperate expression. It was, strangely enough, an encouraging image.

The Journal of Fabian Stedman
4: The Magus

My thoughts persist in whirling back to Nicholas Griffin’s words in Richmond-town,
Put not thy trust in magic.
It is magic that hath placed me in this pickle, and I know not what to do.
Primus:
I dare not tell Catherine of the creature that was got from her body (because of the way that it was got of her body), nor that it is this creature that hath killed her father and the other men;
Secundus:
Those men that were killed had been whoring and that is not a thing I can tell a daughter anent her father;
Tertius:
I would fain speak incontinently with Roger Southwell but do not know whither he is to be found. And what will befall when my Catherine doth dream her dream again?

I have quit Master Pakeman’s indentures and he will write to my father by and by, as must I needs also do; although I am not unduly apprehensive as to what he will say; when I wed Catherine I’ll have me a printer’s-shop to work in; there is but a journey-man and some iv boys and prentices of ages xii to xviii that have their lodging close by (there being no room for them in the house), which is less than half of the household of Master Pakeman. Also I left a letter at my old lodging-house gainst Roger’s coming by.

So now, I write my thoughts on paper simply to aid my dilemma, for I have no confidant with whom to resolve my problems. Just as our comprehension of the world is imperfect; as there are matters we do not understand as yet (although I believe we shall come in time to do so),
videlicet,
how the blood doth go around the corpus; why some men dye of the plague yet others worse afflicted do not; what wonders shall be yet uncovered in the New World across the ocean; how a child (or, indeed, a lamb, or pup, or kid) doth grow within its mother’s womb; though ’tis said,
Omne vivum ex ovo,
¹
doth he begin, as did the homunculus, with a thing incorporeal, or is his beginning like unto that which will be birthed, but so small as a pin-head (on which ’tis said that one may behold an infinite number of angels, did you but know how to look), that grows apace until the travel; even so I cannot know what I shall do anent the creature of Roger’s art.

Nevertheless I do believe that some manner of conclusion will fall to my lot, so Kemp’s death was mine to deal him.
Homo sum; humani nil a me alienum puto.
¹

Basta,
as the Italians say: Enough. I resolve to discover Roger where it is that he has gone, for I must needs ask a thing of him; I do give thanks that I am free of my indenture (by whatever agency), and may spend time in doing so.

For the first time in my life I do regret the proliferation of ale-houses in London, for I must visit all those that I know Roger hath frequented, which is to say, all those within a half league of St-Paul’s church-yard; but at the least I can visit in the habiliment of a gentleman and not a prentice to be disregarded by the landlord and spat at by the potboy.
Quantum mutatus ab
illo,
³
in very truth, as Virgilius did write of Hector when he did return clad in the spoils of Achilles.

I spent many hours in this fruitless adventure and was obliged to tip away a deal of nappy ale that I’d liefer have drunk but that I must needs keep my head clear. But, as they say,
gutta cavet lapidem;
^A
mine endeavours at last bore fruit. In a mean tavern close by Saffron-hill the potboy did say he knew Roger; not as an acquaintance, but by his visage. It was a pretty child, plump as a pony, that I thought no better than a whore; but his intelligence proved true, that Roger did frequent the Pye-house in Turn-mill-street close by.

¹
Everything that lives comes from an egg

²
I
am a man; nothing human is alien to me

³
How changed from the way he used to be

⁴
The drop wears away the stone

As a man that was fair acquainted with Roger I was sore distressed by the mean little stew, the which was so filled with filth as an hog’s-sty; even as a prentice I was never so low as to frequent such a trugging-place. I have not seen an house so frenchified in my life; I would not have touched any of its whores with an oar.

I talked to the cully-man (that had a breath like the jakes) but he knew naught save that one of the drazels there had swived with a gentleman, as he did put it, and he had remembered the man for his brave clothing as much as his tallness.

Ay and well you might,
thought I,
for you will not see his like in such a place too many times.

-Dost know whereat he dwells? I asked, and the fellow laughed.

-I’faith I do not, think you he gave me his name and lodging?

-Oh ay, says I, and paid your little cut two shillings to catch the scabbado from her too; I’ll wager you know well enough what way he headed when he did leave.

At this the sauce-jack looked at me sideways and replied, -And what then, an I did?

-I’ll pay you a tester, I said; an you ask for more, I’ll break your head.

In a glout he replied, -He went down to Cow-cross-street and turned to the left.

This Information was but scant help, but I gave the rogue his coin none the less, and did walk my self in that same direction. I had but turned the corner when I heard running steps behind me, and a woman’s voice did entreat me to stop; which I did, but kept my hand upon my sword-hilt. ’Twas a mean little drab that was not so much clad in her gown as spilling out on’t, and in spite of every thing the sight of her bouncy dugs did stir me.

-Well what is it you want, I said.

-Sir an you’ll not raise my skirts I could tell you a thing for coin.

-I’ll not swive with you, I said, make haste and tell me.

-No money, no coney, she replied.

And so I said, -How shall I know an your Intelligence is what I do need.

-I heard you speak with Close-stool-Bob, you nominated a certain gentleman.

-Do you know aught of him? I asked; an you do, tell me how he looks.

-He is timbersome man, quoth she, Black, with a dark eye; wears a silver ring with a red stone; nigh a span taller than you are.

-Marry, says I, then you have seen him standing on his feet?

-Ay and more than that, she says, would you know the bigness of his wand as well?

-And what of him then, I said, what is it you’d tell me.

-Why, the place of his dwelling, she said, and smiled. Is’t worth coin?

And I nodded but was not so pleased to pay her.

-I’ll give you two times what I paid your Bob, I said, that’s a shilling.

She appeared to consider the offer, then held out her hand for the coin; I took the precaution of holding

fast to her wrist lest she run off with the money, but she showed no inclination to do so; I think she yet did hope to earn more from me on her back, but I bade her get hence when that she had given me the address.

-My name hight Peg, an you come by another time, she called after me.

It was not so far to Roger’s dwelling, a walk of a half-hour or so, but it came on to rain and I must needs take shelter for a time; following which the streets were wet as well as filthy and the kennels running with all manner of detritus; I was as shitten-heeled as a farm-boy by the time I did arrive at my destination. The aged trot that did appear when that I did bounce at the door looked not like to notice or care, however,being moderate foul herself.

-Does Roger Southwell lodge here? I asked.

And she mumbled her mouth so long a time I thought her dumb; but then she spake and said -Ay, but he’s not in a doors; although her speech was well nigh impossible to make out; I think in truth she had not a tooth in her head.

-I’ll wait, quoth I, do you show me his room, and I frowned upon her with the most fiercest countenance I could until she stood aside to let me by, pointing the while up the stairs.

-In the top of the house, she said.

I had climbed near the whole way when I bethought me that Roger might well have locked his door, for that all his books
de omni re scribili, et quibusdam aliis,
⁵
were inside the room; but then I did hear a clatter of foot-steps upon the stairs; I hastened to the top and turned round hand on sword hilt lest this be a threat; but ’twas Roger.

I let a smile come to my face. -Well met, Roger, quoth I ere he could speak, for he did appear as a man might when stricken by lightening, and stopped on the stairs a few steps below me; I have had a merry long chase to find you out, for I knew that I never was going to encounter you occasionally.

Then he managed to summon a smile to his countenance, and hastened up to meet me and clapped me on the shoulder; the whore Peg had the wrong of it; Roger was not more than half a foot taller than I; ’twas enough. I am of a height with most men: I saw then how he did employ his advantage, looking down upon me; an half-year since ‘’twould have worked but I too had learned some things and I was not afeard of Roger Southwell.

-Come in my room, an you are come to speak with me, he said, and opened the door; I felt myself carried backwards in time, for it was just such such a room as that where he had lived when first he did show me his art: The narrow pallet with clothing piled upon it, and by the casement a table with his alchemical wares.

This room was better furnished than the other one, and for all it also was an attic, was more bigger too; he had a pair of joint-stools and a shelf for his books, and an oaken chest in the corner; on it an ale-jug and half a pie.

Roger noted the direction of my glance and said, -old Joan down-stairs will dress me a cole-dish, or a seething of pudding and souse, but I’d needs pay her another three shillings for better fare, and so I make do from the tavern an I hunger for more victuals. I think there’s hum in the jar, twill be a whit stale, but you never did fret about such; or have you come up in the world?

-Roger, quoth I, for a close-mouthed man you are terrible loose-tongued on a sudden; but I’ll drink with you.

⁵
about everything knowable, and other things as well.

And he poured some into a pot for me, and the remainder for him-self.

I drank the ale; it was strong, and stale, and most like sauced to boot, but I had been walking a long while; Roger watched me for a space, then cut off half the pie and offered it me; I shook my head, and he ate it himself. All the while I said nothing, but merely stared at him. At last he spake, and the words spewed out on a sudden.

-I know not where she is, or what it is that she is doing; I have no tidings.

-I know what it is that she is doing, I said, and that is the reason I have sought you out, keep you never so full close.

-Fabian I swear to you, I did not know it would be thus, he said.

-No you did not know, for all your vaunted knowledge, I said, nor did you think neither. Is this what a magus does, I inquired, Is this a quest for learning or for power?

-It was always power, Fabian, replied Roger somewhat sadly, I thought you knew that at the least.

-Oh ay, I said, my wits are not so dull. You saw a way you did think would give you a thing you desired, and that was all that you did see.

Roger stood up on his feet and went to his work-bench, waving me to do likewise.

-Tell me then of her doings, quoth he.

His fingers lighted on a small egg-shape of glass and he caressed it an it were an whore’s tit; I do not think he knew what his fingers did.

-She doth drink men dry, I said; Not of blood, but of breath and life. And when that she maketh these vile feasts, then Catherine Alsop dreams that it is she herself that sups them; and one of the men was Catherine’s own father. How it is that she doth entice them I do not know but I do believe she plays the part of a common drab; but certes it is, that she may be Catherine’s bane: She is a strong woman but such dreams would vex a strong man and I can do naught to give her aid.

Roger held out his hand to me: In it lay the glass that he had been fondling: It was the colour of smoke.

-Do you know what this is? he asked.

-A scrying-glass, I should imagine, I replied.

-’Tis well, said Roger, I had forgot how clever you are; but ’tis no common glass, such as a gypsy or hedge-witch would use; ’tis a summoning-glass.