exterior deformity into the interior excellences of her soul,with sweet compulsion and authoritative arguments drawn from heradmirable faith and simple devotion, rekindled in mine the more noblesentiments sorrow had obscured, not so much through diverting, as byelevating and sweetening, my thoughts to a greater sense of thegoodness of God in calling my father, and peradventure Edmund also, toso great an honor as the priesthood, and never more honorable than inthese days, wherein it oftentimes doth prove the road to martyrdom.
In December of that year my Lord and my Lady Surrey, by the Duke ofNorfolk's desire, removed for some weeks to Kenninghall for change ofair, and also Lady Lumley, his grace judging them to be as yet tooyoung to keep house alone. My lord's brothers and Mistress Bess, withher governess, were likewise carried there. Lady Surrey wrote fromthat seat, that, were it not for the duke's imprisonment and constantfears touching his life, she should have had great contentment in thatretirement, and been most glad to have tarried there, if it hadpleased God, so long as she lived, my lord taking so much pleasure infield-sports, and otherwise so companionable, that he often offered toride with her; and in the evenings they did entertain themselves withbooks, chiefly poetry, and sometimes played at cards. They had but fewvisitors, by reason of the disgrace and trouble his grace was in atthat time; only such of their neighbors as did hunt and shoot with theearl her husband; mostly Sir Henry Stafford and Mr. Rookwood's twosons, whom she commended; the one for his good qualities and honestcarriage, and the other for wit and learning; as also Sir Hammondl'Estrange, a gentleman who stayed no longer away from Kenninghall,she observed, than thereunto compelled by lack of an excuse fortarrying if present, or returning when absent. He often procured to beinvited by my lord, who used to meet him out of doors, and frequentlycarried him back with him to dine or to sup, and often both.
"And albeit" (so my lady wrote) "I doubt not but he doth set areasonable value on my lord's society,--who, although young enough tobe his son, is exceedingly conversable and pleasant, as every one whoknows him doth testify,--and mislikes not, I ween, the good cheer, orthe wine from his grace's cellar; yet I warrant thee, good Constance,'tis not for the sake only of our poor company or hospitable tablethat this good knight doth haunt us, but rather from the passion Iplainly see he hath conceived for our Milicent since a day when hehurt his arm by a fall not far from hence, and I procured she shoulddress it with that rare ointment of thine, which verily doth prove ofgreat efficacy in cases where the skin is rubbed off. Methinks thewound in his arm was then transplanted into his heart, and the goodman so bewitched with the blue eyes and dove-like countenance of hischirurgeon, that he has fallen head-over-ears in love, and is, as Ihope, minded to address her in a lawful manner. His wound did take anexceeding long time in healing, to the no small discredit of thyointment; for he came several days to have it dressed, and I could notchoose but smile when at last our sweet practitioner did ask him, inan innocent manner, if the wound did yet smart, for indeed she couldsee no appearance in it but what betokened it to be healed. Heanswered, 'There be wounds, Mistress Milicent, which smart, albeit nooutward marks of such suffering do show themselves.' 'Ay,' quothMilicent, 'but for such I be of opinion further dressing is needless;and with my lady's licence, I will furnish you, sir, with a liquidwhich shall strengthen the skin, and so relieve the aching, if so yoube careful to apply it night and morning to the injured part, and tocork the bottle after using it.' 'My memory is so bad, fairphysician,' quoth the knight, 'that I am like to forget theprescription.' She answered, he should stand the bottle so as itshould meet his eyes when he rose, and then he must needs remember it.
"And so broke off the discourse. But when he is here I notice how hiseyes do follow her when she sets the table for primero, or works atthe tambour-frame, or plays with Bess, to whom he often talks as shesits on _her_ knees, who, if I mistake not, shall be, one of thesedays, Lady l'Estrange, and is as worthy to be so well married as anygirl in the kingdom, both as touching her birth and her exceedinggreat virtue and good disposition. He is an extreme Protestant, andvery bitter against Catholics; but as she, albeit mild in temper, isas firmly settled in the new religion as he is, no difference willexist between them on a point in which 'tis most of all to be desiredhusbands and wives should be agreed. Thou mayst think that I have beenover apt to note the signs of this good knight's passion, and to drawdeductions from such tokens as have appeared of it, visible maybe tono other eyes than mine; but, trust me, Constance, those who dothemselves know what 'tis to love with an engrossing affection arequick to mark the same effects in others. When Phil is in the room, Ifind it a hard matter at times to restrain mine eyes from gazing onthat dear husband, whom I do so entirely love that I have no otherpleasure in life but in his company. And not to seem to him or toothers too fond, which is not a beseeming thing even in a wife, Istudy to conceal my constant thinking on him by such devices ascunningly to provoke others to speak of my lord, and so appear only tofollow whereunto my own desire doth point, or to propose questions,--apastime wherein he doth excel,--and so minister to mine own pride inhim without direct flattery, or in an unbecoming manner setting forthhis praise. And thus I do grow learned in the tricks of trueaffection, and to perceive in such as are in love what mine own heartdoth teach me to be the signals of that passion."
So far my lady; and not long after, on the first day of February, Ihad a note from her, written in great distraction of mind at theCharter House, where she and all his grace's children had returned ina sudden manner on the hearing that the queen had issued a warrant forthe duke's execution on the next Monday. Preparations were made withthe expectation of all London, and a concourse of many thousands towitness it, the tread of whose feet was heard at night, like to theroll of muffled drums, along the streets; but on the Sunday, late inthe night, the queen's majesty entered into a great misliking that theduke should die the next day, and sent an order to the sheriffs toforbear until they should hear further. His grace's mother, thedowager countess, and my Lady Berkeley his sister (now indeed loweringher pride to most humble supplication), and my Lord Arundel from hissick-bed, and the French ambassador, together with many others, suedwith singular earnestness to her majesty for his life, who, albeit shehad stayed the execution of his sentence, would by no means recall it.I hasted to the Charter House, Mistress Ward going with me, and bothwere admitted into her ladyship's chamber, with whom did sit that daythe fairest picture of grief I ever beheld--the Lady Margaret Howard,who for some months had resided with the Countess of Sussex, who was avery good lady to her and all these afflicted children. Albeit LadySurrey had often greatly commended this young lady, and styled her sorare a piece of perfection that no one could know and not admireher, the loveliness of her face, nobility of her figure, andattractiveness of her manners exceeded my expectations. The sight ofthese sisters minded me then of what Lady Surrey had written when theywere yet children, touching my Lord Surrey, styling them "two twincherries on one stalk;" and methought, now that the lovely pair hadripened into early maturity, their likeness in beauty (thoughdiffering in complexion) justified the saying. Lady Margaret greetedus as though we had not been strangers, and in the midst of her greatand natural sorrow showed a grateful sense of the share we did take ina grief which methinks was deeper in her than in any other of thesemourners.
Oh, what a period of anxious suspense did follow that first reprieve!what alternations of hope and fear! what affectionate letters wereexchanged between that loving father and good master and his sorrowfulchildren and servants; now writing to Mr. Dyx, his faithful steward:
"Farewell, good Dyx! your service hath been so faithful unto me, as I am sorry that I cannot make proof of my good-will to recompense it. I trust my death shall make no change in you toward mine, but that you will faithfully perform the trust that I have reposed in you. Forget me, and remember me in mine. Forget not to counsel and advise Philip and Nan's unexperienced years; the rest of their brothers' and sisters' well-doing resteth much upon their virtuous and considerate dealings. G
od grant them his grace, which is able to work better in them than my natural well-meaning heart can wish unto them. Amen. And so, hoping of your honesty and faithfulness when I am dead, I bid you this my last farewell. T. H."
Now to another trusty friend and honest dependent:
"Good friend George, farewell. I have no other tokens to send my friends but my books; and I know how sorrowful you are, amongst the rest, for my hard hap, whereof I thank God; because I hope his merciful chastisement will prepare me for a better world. Look well throughout this book, and you shall find the name of duke very unhappy. I pray God it may end with me, and that others may speed better hereafter. But if I might have my wish, and were in as good a state as ever you knew me, yet I would wish for a
Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century Page 32
