And thus, dear Mistress, have I come to the end of my long Narrative. I swear to You by the living G.o.d that everything which I have herein related is the Truth and Naught but the Truth.

There were many People present in Mr. Betterton's room during that memorable Scene, when he sacrificed his Pride and his Revenge in order to right the Innocent. Amongst these Witnesses there were some, whom Malice and Envy would blind to the Sublimity of so n.o.ble an Act. Do not listen to them, honoured Mistress, but rather to the promptings of your own Heart and to that unerring Judgment of Men and of Events which is the Attribute of good and pure Women.

Mr. Betterton hath never forfeited your Esteem by any Act or Thought.

The Infatuation which momentarily dulled his Vision to all save to the Beauty of the Lady Barbara, hath ceased to exist. Its course was ephemeral and hath gone without a Trace of Regret or Bitterness in its wake. The eminent Actor, the high-souled Artist, whom all cultured Europe doth reverence and admire, stands as high to-day in that same World's Estimation as he did, before a young and arrogant c.o.xcomb dared to measure his own Worth against that of a Man as infinitely above him as are the Stars. But, dear Mistress, Mr. Betterton now is lonely and sad. He is like a Man who hath been sick and weary, and is still groping after Health and Strength. Take pity on his Loneliness, I do conjure You. Give him back the inestimable Boon of your Goodwill and of your Friendship, which alone could restore to him that Peace of Mind so necessary for the furtherance of his Art.

And if, during the Course of my Narrative, I have seemed to you over-presumptuous, then I do entreat your Forgiveness. Love for my Friend and Reverence for your Worth have dictated every Word which I have written. If, through my Labours, I have succeeded in turning away some of the just Anger which had possessed your Soul against the Man whom, I dare aver, you still honour with your Love, then, indeed, I shall feel that even so insignificant a Life as mine hath not been wholly wasted.

I do conclude, dear and honoured Mistress, with a Prayer to Almighty G.o.d for your Welfare and that of the Man whom I love best in all the World.

I am convinced that my Prayer will find Favour before the Throne of Him who is the Father of us All. And He who reads the innermost Secrets of every Heart, knows that your Welfare is coincident with that of my Friend. Thus am I content to leave the Future in His Hands.

And I myself do remain, dear Mistress, Your humble and obedient Servant, JOHN HONEYWOOD.

EPILOGUE

Ring down the Curtain. The Play is ended. The Actors have made their final Bow before You and thanked You for your Plaudits. The chief Player-a sad and lonely Man-has for the nonce spoken his last upon the Stage.

All is Silence and Mystery now. The Lights are out. And yet the Audience lingers on, loath to bid Farewell to the great Artist and to his minor Satellites who have helped to wile away a few pleasant Hours.

You, dear Public, knowing so much about them, would wish to know more.

You wish to know-an I am not mistaken-whether the Labour of Love wrought by good Master Honeywood did in due course bear its Fruitfulness. You wish to know-or am I unduly self-flattered-whether the Play of Pa.s.sion, of Love and of Revenge, set by the worthy Clerk before You, had an Epilogue-one that would satisfy your Sense of Justice and of Mercy.

Then, I pray You, turn to the Pages of History, of which Master Honeywood's Narrative forms an integral and pathetic Part. One of these Pages will reveal to You that which You wish to know. Thereon You will see recorded the Fact that, after a brief and distinguished Visit during that Summer to the City and University of Stockholm, where Honours without number were showered upon the great English Actor, Mr. Betterton came back to England, to the delight of an admiring Public, for he was then in the very Plenitude of his Powers.

Having read of the Artist's triumph, I pray You then to turn over the Page of the faithful Chronicle of his Career, and here You will find a brief Chapter which deals with his private Life and with his Happiness.

You will see that at the End of this self-same year 1662, the Register of St. Giles', Cripplegate, contains the Record of a Marriage between Thomas Betterton, Actor, of the parish of St. Margaret's, Westminster, and Mary Joyce Saunderson, of the aforesaid parish of St. Giles'.

That this Marriage was an exceptionally happy one we know from innumerable Data, Minutes and Memoranda supplied by Downes and others; that Master John Honeywood was present at the Ceremony itself we may be allowed to guess. Those of us who understand and appreciate the artistic Temperament, will readily agree with the worthy Clerk when he said that it cannot be judged by ordinary Standards. The long and successful Careers of Thomas Betterton and of Mistress Saunderson his Wife testify to the Fact that their Art in no way suffered, while their Souls pa.s.sed through the fiery Ordeal of Pa.s.sion and of Sorrow; but rather that it became enn.o.bled and purified, until they themselves took their place in the Heart and Memory of the cultured World, among the Immortals.

THE END