Читать книгу Bess of Hardwick and Her Circle онлайн

58 страница из 82

Hare with little jellies.

Plover trussed and stuffed.

Wheaten cakes.

A mess of furmity.

A heron stewed. You dolts, this should be heated!

Cook. My Lady, my Lady—the ovens will heat it again quickly. I brought it hither that your Ladyship should taste the sauce. [Presents a spoon. Bess tastes.]

Bess. I mislike the onion. And for a Queen, there is too much aniseed. Mark that if the dish goes untouched.

Cook. My Lady, they say this Queen will bring her own tasting-gentleman.

Bess. Surely, yes, surely. Who will she not bring? Her tasting-gentleman to see she is not poisoned by you, Master Cook. Swallow the insult and say your prayers and be sparing of your herbs in future. You were always too set upon aniseed, and ’tis fit only for the colic, to my thinking. Get on, get on with your dishes.... H’m! the pasties... here is only one of liver. I told Crompe to command two... two of liver and two of apples. [The pasties are presented.]

Bess. Fifty loaves.

Cook. Thirty-eight are here.

Bess [angrily]. Always something lacking, it seems. A plague, you fellows! Understand me, Cook, if the castle goes hungry you shall go more hungry, and your purse still more. Briskets, sallets, eggs, cheeses—where are they? Crompe, here—take you the bill, and if anything lacks you know who shall first go supperless. Not the Queen, and not your master and lady. Nor the Queen’s folk either. But you, Crompe—do you hear me? You!