sails in ignorance. I suppose 'tis possible that the occasional gypsy here or there may swindle someone, but methinks that they are much more likely to cozen a wealthy Fleming or a prosperous Italian merchant than some poor old sod begging on the street. 'Twould be little profit there. In truth, one should think that quite the contrary to what you claim, each foreign craftsman or merchant who comes to London and opens up a shop creates an opportunity for Englishmen with no ready skills at trade or craft, for every merchant has need of assistants in his shop and every craftsman has need of apprentices."
"I told you 'twould be a waste of time with these two," said McEnery, with a sneer. "An' what with the way that this one speaks, it sounds to me more like he champions these stinking foreigners than stands up for his fellow countrymen!"
"Nay, I beg to differ," Dickens said. "He speaks truly and I, for one, can find no fault in his discourse. If you were to venture out beyond the city walls, then you would soon find that what Tuck says is true. 'Tis not the foreigner who dispossesses English farmers of their homes and livelihoods, but the gentleman who encloses his estate to turn his crop fields into pastureland for greater profit. These enclosures are a plague upon our poor, swelling their ranks as they fatten the purses of the gentry, and in the long run, all shall suffer from it. 'Tis an easy thing to point your finger at the foreigners, Jack, and claim they are to blame, but 'tis not so. You may make a scapegoat of the blameless foreigner, but 'twill not solve the problem. On the other hand, it does give you a cry with which to rally others to your standard, does it not?" Dickens smiled mirthlessly. "You always did want to be the leader, Jack. Well, 'twould seem you have your wish, at last. You have no need of me. And for my part, I have no need of causing pain or trouble to those who have done nothing to offend me. S'trewth, I have done enough of that already. My battlefields are left behind me. Count me out. And as for Tuck, I believe he has already given you his answer."
Darnley compressed his lips tightly and gazed at him with cold rage in his eyes. Dickens returned that baleful look without regard for its intensity, meeting Darnley's fury with his own insouciance. And although he tried, Darnley found that he could not stare him down.
"You players were always apt with pretty speeches," he said contemptuously, "but try as you might, you still cannot muddy up the truth with mere words. We know who belongs here and who does not. We have eyes, and we can all see for ourselves how the foreigner prospers at the Englishman's expense. The time has come for all good Englishmen to take a stand, and you are either with us, Ben, or else you are against us."
"Take whatever stand you wish, Jack, for I am neither with you
nor
against you," Dickens said. "What you and your friends do matters not to me, one way or another. So then, 'twould seem that we have settled our discussion. Now Tuck and I have an appointment at the Theatre that we must keep."
He started forward, but McEnery stood in his way defiantly, sneering at him, chin jutting forward in a challenge.
"Stand aside, Bruce," Dickens said, softly.
"And if I should refuse? What then, eh?" McEnergy replied, finding courage in his fellow Steady Boys around him. "Do you think that you can best us all?"
Moving with smooth, deceptive speed, Dickens took Smythe's knife, which he had held blade up, concealed alongside his inner forearm all the while, and before the startled apprentice could react, he flipped it around quickly and thrust it, edge upwards, high between McEnery's legs. With his free hand, he seized McEnery by his belt and held him close, while pressing upwards with the knife, causing McEnery to emit a high-pitched squeak of alarm.
"You know, you may be right, Bruce. Doubtless, I would not prevail 'gainst you all," said Dickens, in an even tone, "but I could do
"I told you 'twould be a waste of time with these two," said McEnery, with a sneer. "An' what with the way that this one speaks, it sounds to me more like he champions these stinking foreigners than stands up for his fellow countrymen!"
"Nay, I beg to differ," Dickens said. "He speaks truly and I, for one, can find no fault in his discourse. If you were to venture out beyond the city walls, then you would soon find that what Tuck says is true. 'Tis not the foreigner who dispossesses English farmers of their homes and livelihoods, but the gentleman who encloses his estate to turn his crop fields into pastureland for greater profit. These enclosures are a plague upon our poor, swelling their ranks as they fatten the purses of the gentry, and in the long run, all shall suffer from it. 'Tis an easy thing to point your finger at the foreigners, Jack, and claim they are to blame, but 'tis not so. You may make a scapegoat of the blameless foreigner, but 'twill not solve the problem. On the other hand, it does give you a cry with which to rally others to your standard, does it not?" Dickens smiled mirthlessly. "You always did want to be the leader, Jack. Well, 'twould seem you have your wish, at last. You have no need of me. And for my part, I have no need of causing pain or trouble to those who have done nothing to offend me. S'trewth, I have done enough of that already. My battlefields are left behind me. Count me out. And as for Tuck, I believe he has already given you his answer."
Darnley compressed his lips tightly and gazed at him with cold rage in his eyes. Dickens returned that baleful look without regard for its intensity, meeting Darnley's fury with his own insouciance. And although he tried, Darnley found that he could not stare him down.
"You players were always apt with pretty speeches," he said contemptuously, "but try as you might, you still cannot muddy up the truth with mere words. We know who belongs here and who does not. We have eyes, and we can all see for ourselves how the foreigner prospers at the Englishman's expense. The time has come for all good Englishmen to take a stand, and you are either with us, Ben, or else you are against us."
"Take whatever stand you wish, Jack, for I am neither with you
nor
against you," Dickens said. "What you and your friends do matters not to me, one way or another. So then, 'twould seem that we have settled our discussion. Now Tuck and I have an appointment at the Theatre that we must keep."
He started forward, but McEnery stood in his way defiantly, sneering at him, chin jutting forward in a challenge.
"Stand aside, Bruce," Dickens said, softly.
"And if I should refuse? What then, eh?" McEnergy replied, finding courage in his fellow Steady Boys around him. "Do you think that you can best us all?"
Moving with smooth, deceptive speed, Dickens took Smythe's knife, which he had held blade up, concealed alongside his inner forearm all the while, and before the startled apprentice could react, he flipped it around quickly and thrust it, edge upwards, high between McEnery's legs. With his free hand, he seized McEnery by his belt and held him close, while pressing upwards with the knife, causing McEnery to emit a high-pitched squeak of alarm.
"You know, you may be right, Bruce. Doubtless, I would not prevail 'gainst you all," said Dickens, in an even tone, "but I could do
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