Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century

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Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century Page 24

by Georgiana Fullerton

methinks thismonseer hath both, and withal a rare art for what courtiers do calldiplomacy, and plain men lying. His speeches to her majesty be sofulsome in her praise, as I have heard some say who are at court, andhis flattery so palpable, that they have been ashamed to hear it; butbehind her back he doth disclose her failings with an admirableslyness."

  "If he be sly," answered Polly, "I'll warrant he finds his match inher majesty."

  "Yea," cried Kate, "even as poor Madge Arundell experienced to hercost."

  "Ay," quoth Polly, "she catcheth many poor fish, who little know whatsnare is laid for them."

  "And how did her highness catch Mistress Arundell?" I asked.

  "In this way, coz," quoth Polly: "she doth often ask the ladies roundher chamber, 'If they love to think of marriage?' and the wise ones doconceal well their liking thereunto, knowing the queen's judgment inthe matter. But pretty, simple Madge Arundell, not knowing so deeplyas her fellows, was asked one day hereof, and said, 'She had thoughtmuch about marriage, if her father did consent to the man she loved.''You seem honest, i' fait said the queen; 'I will sue for you yourfather.' At which the dam was well pleased; and when father, SirRobert Arundell, came court, the queen questioned him his daughter'smarriage, and pressed him to give consent if the match were discreet.Sir Robert, much astonished, said, 'He never had heard his daughterhad liking to any man; but he would give his free consent to what wasmost pleasing to her highness's will and consent.' Then I will do therest,' saith the queen. Poor Madge was called in, and told by thequeen that her father had given his free consent. 'Then,' replied thesimple one, 'I shall be happy, an' it please your grace.' 'So thoushalt; but not to be a fool and marry,' said the queen. 'I have hisconsent given to me, and I vow thou shalt never get it in thypossession. So go-to about thy business. I see thou art a bold one toown thy foolishness so readily.'"

  "Ah me!" cried Kate, "I be glad not to be a maid to her majesty; for Iwould not know how to answer her grace if she should ask me alike question; for if it be bold to say one hath a reasonable desireto be married, I must needs be bold then, for I would not for twothousand pounds break Mr. Lacy's heart; and he saith he will die if Ido not marry him. But, Polly, thou wouldst never be at a loss toanswer her majesty."

  "No more than Pace her fool," quoth Polly, "who, when she said, as heentered the room, 'Now we shall hear of our faults,' cried out, 'Whereis the use of speaking of what all the town doth talk of?'"

  "The fool should have been whipped," Mistress Ward said.

  "For his wisdom, or for his folly, good Mistress Ward?" asked Polly."If for wisdom, 'tis hard to beat a man for being wise. If for folly,to whip a fool for that he doth follow his calling, and as I be thelicensed fool in this house--which I do take to be the highestexercise of wit in these days, when all is turned upside down--I dowish you all good-night, and to be no wiser than is good for yourhealths, and no more foolish than suffices to lighten the heart;" andso laughing she ran away, and Kate said in a lamentable voice,

  "I would I were foolish, if it lightens the heart."

  "Content thee, good Kate," I said; but in so low a voice none didhear. And she went on,

  "Mr. Lacy is gone to Yorkshire for three weeks, which doth make memore sad than can be thought of."

  I smiled; but Muriel, who had not yet oped her lips whilst the otherswere talking, rising, kissed her sister, and said, "Thou wilt have,sweet one, so great a contentment in his letters as will give theepatience to bear the loss of his good company."

  At the which Kate brightened a little. To live with Muriel was apreachment, as I have often had occasion since to find.

  On the first Sunday I was at London, we heard mass at the Portugueseambassador's house, whither many Catholics of his acquaintanceresorted for that purpose from our side of the city. In the afternoona gentleman, who had travelled day and night from Staffordshire onsome urgent business, brought me a letter from my father, writ onlyfour days before it came to hand, and about a week after my departurefrom home. It was as follows:

  "MINE OWN DEAR CHILD,--The bearer of this letter hath promised to do me the good service to deliver it to thee as soon as he shall reach London; which, as he did intend to travel day and night, I compute will be no later than the end of this week, or on Sunday at the furthest. And for this his civility I do stand greatly indebted to him; for in these straitened times 'tis no easy matter to get letters conveyed from one part of the kingdom to another without danger of discovering that which for the present should rather be concealed. I received notice two days ago from Mistress Ward's sister of your good journey and arrival at London; and I thank God, my very good child, that he has had thee in his holy keeping and bestowed thee under the roof of my good sister and brother; so that, with a mind at ease in respect to thee, my dear sole earthly treasure, I may be free to follow whatever course his providence may appoint to me, who, albeit unworthy, do aspire to leave all things to follow him. And indeed he hath already, at the outset of my wanderings, sweetly disposed events in such wise that chance hath proved, as it were, the servant of his providence; and, when I did least look for it, by a divine ordination furnished me, who so short a time back parted from a dear child, with the company of one who doth stand to me in lieu of her who, by reason of her tender sex and age, I am compelled to send from me. For being necessitated, for the preservation of my life, to make seldom any long stay in one place, I had need of a youth to ride with me on those frequent journeys, and keep me company in such places as I may withdraw unto for quietness and study. So being in Stafford some few days back, I inquired of the master of the inn where I did lay for one night, if it were not possible to get in that city a youth to serve me as a page, whom I said I would maintain as a gentleman if he had learning, nurture, and behavior becoming such a person. He said his son, who was a schoolmaster, had a youth for a pupil who carried virtue in his very countenance; but that he was the child of a widow, who, he much feared, would not easily be persuaded to part from him. Thereupon I expressed a great desire to have a sight of this youth and charged him to deal with his master so that he should be sent to my lodgings; which, when he came there, lo and behold, I perceived with no small amazement that he was no other than Edmund Genings, who straightway ran into my arms, and with much ado restrained himself from weeping, so greatly was he moved with conflicting passions of present joy and recollected sorrow at this our unlooked-for meeting; and truly mine own contentment therein was in no wise less than his. He told me that his mother's poverty increasing, she had moved from Lichfield, where it was more bitter to her, by reason of the affluence in which she had before lived in that city, to Stafford, where none did know them; and she dwelt in a mean lodging in a poor sort of manner. And whereas he had desired to accept the offer of a stranger, with a view to relieve his mother from the burden of his support, and maybe yield her some assistance in her straits, he now passionately coveted to throw his fortune with mine, and to be entered as a page in my service. But though she had been willing before, from necessity, albeit averse by inclination, to part with him, when she knew me it seemed awhile impossible to gain her consent. Methinks she was privy to Edmund's secret good opinion of Catholic religion, and feared, if he should live with me, the effect thereof would follow. But her necessities were so sharp, and likewise her regrets that he should lack opportunities for his further advance in learning, which she herself was unable to supply, that at length by long entreaty he prevailed on her to give him license for that which his heart did prompt him to desire for his own sake and hers. And when she had given this consent, but not before, lest it should appear I did seek to bribe her by such offers to so much condescension as she then evinced, I proposed to assist her in any way she wished to the bettering of her fortunes, and said I would do as much whether she suffered her son to abide with me or no: which did greatly work with her to conceive a more favorable opinion of me than she had heretofore held, and to be contented he should remain in my
service, as he himself so greatly desired. After some further discourse, it was resolved that I should furnish her with so much money as would pay her debts and carry her to La Rochelle, where her youngest son was with her brother, who albeit he had met with great losses, would nevertheless, she felt assured, assist her in her need. Thus has Edmund become to me less a page than a pupil, less a servant than a son. I will keep a watchful eye over his actions, whom I already perceive to be tractable, capable, willing to learn, and altogether such as his early years did promise he should be. I thank God, who has given me so great a comfort in the midst of so great trials, and to this youth in

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