The Song of the Siren

During the evening he said to me: “I’m getting very fond of you, Damaris.”

I was silent. My heart was beating fast. I had had a feeling that he would speak to me about our future on an occasion like this.

“Oh, Damaris,” he said, “it’s a pity you’re so young.”

“I don’t feel young. It’s only a matter of years....”

He laughed. “Well, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?”

He patted my hand and then changed the subject.

“Thank heaven,” he said, “that we don’t have to speak lines. I should never remember them. I’m afraid I have not inherited my mother’s talent.”

“Your mother should have been Elizabeth. She would have done it beautifully.”

“No, she was anxious for you to do it. Besides, she’s busy being the hostess.”

I was sure that he had been on the point of making some proposal. Oh, how I wished he had!

We should have to wait awhile, of course. Everyone would say I was too young for marriage. I would have to wait until I was nearly sixteen. That was more than a year.

Well, that did not seem so bad. I would be Matt’s betrothed. If I only knew that we were to be married in a given time I could wait and be happy.

He took me into supper and I did not notice what I ate. I was too excited. The wine was cool and refreshing and I was nervously awaiting my appearance as the Queen.

Then the moment came.

Elizabeth announced that the guests were now going to see the charades and the audience must guess the words we were acting.

We had taken supper in two of the rooms which led from the hall and it was in the hall itself that the performances would take place.

There was a dais at one end, which was very useful, and a curtain had been drawn across it.

The first of the charades went off very well. Then it was our turn. Behind the curtain Matt and I waited. It would be drawn back and I would be standing at one side of the dais in all my finery and Matt would be at the other. We had two attendants each-all dressed in Elizabethan costume.

There was a round of applause and we went into action. I tried to assume a Queen’s regal manners and Matt was most courtly as the gallant Walter Raleigh.

This was a short scene. The next one would be longer. I looked across at Matt. He smiled at me. He took off his hat and made a deep bow. Then I stepped forward and looked down at the ground and tried to assume an expression of distaste as Elizabeth had taught me. I shrank back and Matt took off his cloak, spread it on the floor and I walked over it.

I looked at him fondly. He bowed. Left the cloak where it was. I put my arm through his and the curtain fell.

There was loud applause.

The curtain was drawn back.

“Take a bow ... together,” said Elizabeth from the side of the stage.

So we just stood there, rather embarrassed, while they applauded.

The curtain was dropped and a small table was put on the dais. I had donned a headdress of black trimmed with pearls which came to a peak in the centre of my forehead. I had put a black cloak over my finery and was seated at the table. Matt had discarded his hat and wore a wig of dark curls. It was amazing how that transformed him.

He was seated at my feet and the others who had been our attendants in the spreading of the cloak incident were seated beside me at the table.

Matt had a lute on which he was strumming and he was looking up at me with an adoration which I found most affecting.

We remained thus for some time. Then those who had been Raleigh’s attendants and were now transformed into Rizzio’s enemies came onto the dais from the other side.

They dashed at Matt. One of them held high a dagger, which he pretended to plunge into Matt’s heart.

He looked so fierce that for a moment I was really frightened.

Then Matt rolled over realistically and the curtain fell.

The audience applauded wildly. The curtain was drawn back and Matt stood up.

”Take a bow,” whispered Elizabeth.

So we stood in front of the dais hand in hand and then there was a sudden bark. Everyone turned round. Belle had come into the hall.

She bounded up to the dais, evidently highly pleased with herself. Then we saw that she carried something in her mouth. She laid it almost reverently at Matt’s feet.

“Whatever is it?” cried Elizabeth coming forward. She was about to pick it up when she drew back.

My father had come forward. He knelt. Belle watched, head on one side, tail wagging with delight.

“It looks like an old shoe,” said my father, and I noticed that he had grown rather pale.

“It is an old shoe,” said Elizabeth. “Where did you find that, Belle?”

I lay in my bed thinking about the evening. It had been such fun. I was sure Matt had been going to say something to me ... something about our future. But he didn’t, and from the moment when Belle had come in the atmosphere had changed.

Elizabeth had sent for one of the servants to take the shoe away. It was too filthy for us to touch. It was unfortunate that it should be Mary Rook who came. She brought an ash pan and a little broom. Then she curtsied and went out with it, Belle following her.