Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century

by Georgiana Fullerton

lord, even though she should notalways be so happy as to enjoy his company? My Lord Arundel hath oftenurged me to reside with him in London, and pleaded the comfort my LadyLumley and himself, in his declining years, should find in my filialcare; but God helping me--and I think in so doing I fulfill hiswill--naught shall tempt me to leave my husband's house till he dothhimself compel me to it; nor by resentment of his absence lose one dayof his dear company I may yet enjoy."

  "O my dear lady," I exclaimed, "and is it indeed thus with you? Dothmy lord so forget your love and his duty as to forsake one he shouldcherish as his most dear treasure?"

  "Nay, nay," she hastily replied; "Philip doth not forsake me; a littleneglectful he is" (this she said with a forced smile), "as all thequeen's courtiers must needs be of their wives; for she is soexacting, that such as stand in her good graces cannot be stayers athome, but ever waiters on her pleasure. If Philip doth only leaveLondon or Richmond for three or four days, she doth suspect the causeof his absence; her smiles are turned to frowns, and his enemiesimmediately do take advantage of it. I tried to stay in London onewhile this year, after Bess was married; but he suffered so much inconsequence from the loss of her good graces when she heard I was atthe Charter-house, that I was compelled to return here."

  "And hath my lord been to see you since?" I eagerly asked.

  "Once," she answered; "for three short days. O Constance, it was abrief, and, from its briefness, an almost painful joy, to see him inhis own princely home, and at the head of his table, which he dothgrace so nobly; and when he went abroad saluted by every one with somuch reverence, that he should be taken to be a king when he is here;and himself so contented with this show of love and homage, that hisface beamed with pleasant smiles; and when he observed what my poorskill had effected in the management of his estates, which do greatlysuffer from the prodigalities of the court, he commended me with sogreat kindness as to say he was not worthy of so good a wife."

  I could not choose but say amen in mine own soul to this lord's trueestimation of himself, and of her, one hair of whose head did, in mythinking, outweigh in merit his whole frame; but composed my face lestshe should too plainly read my resentment that the like of her shouldbe so used by an ungrateful husband.

  "Alas," she continued, "this joy should be my constant portion if anenemy robbed me not of my just rights. 'Tis very hard to be hated by aqueen, and she so great and powerful that none in the compass of herrealm can dare to resent her ill treatment. I had a letter from mylord last week, in which he says if it be possible he will soon visitme again; but he doth add that he has so much confidence in myaffection, that he is sure I would not will him to risk that which mayundo him, if the queen should hear of it. 'For, Nan,' he writes, 'Iresemble a man scrambling up unto a slippery rock, who, if hegaineth not the topmost points, must needs fall backward into aprecipice; for if I lose but an inch of her majesty's favor, I am liketo fall as my fathers have done, and yet lower. So be patient, goodNan, and bide the time when I shall have so far ascended as to be inless danger of a rapid descent, in which thine own fortunes would beinvolved."

  She folded this letter, which she had taken out of her bosom, with adeep sigh, and I doubt not with the same thought which was in mine ownmind, that the higher the ascent, the greater doth prove the peril ofan overthrow, albeit to the climber's own view the further point dothseem the most secured. She then said she would not often speak with metouching her troubles; but we should try to forget absent husbands andlovers, and enjoy so much pleasure in our mutual good company as waspossible, and go hawking also and riding on fine days, and be as merryas the days were long. And, verily, at times youthful spirits assumedthe lead, and like two wanton children we laughed sometimes withhearty cheer at some pleasantry in which my little wit but fancifulhumor did evince itself for her amusement. But the fair sky of thesesunshiny hours was often overcast by sudden clouds; and weightythoughts, ill assorting with soaring joylity, wrought sad endings tomerry beginnings. I restrained the expression of mine own sorrow at myfather's uncertain fate and Basil's absence, not to add to herheaviness; but sometimes, whilst playing in some sort the fool to makeher smile, which smiles so well became her, a sharp aching of theheart caused me to fail in the effort; which when she perceived, herarm was straightway thrown round my neck, and she would speak in thiswise:

  "O sweet jester! poor dissembler! the heart will have its say, albeitnot aided by the utterance of the tongue. Believe me, good Constance,I am not unmindful of thy griefs, albeit somewhat silent concerningthem, as also mine own; for that I eschew melancholy themes, having awell-spring of sorrow in my bosom which doth too readily overflow ifthe sluices be once opened."

  Thus spake this sweet lady; but her unconscious tongue, following thecurrent of her thoughts more frequently than she did credit, dwelt onthe theme of her absent husband; and on whichever subject talk wasministered between us, she was ingenious to procure it should end withsome reference to this worshipped object. But verily, I neverperceived her to express, in speaking of that then unworthy husband,but what, if he had been present, must needs have moved him to regrethis negligent usage of an incomparable, loving, and virtuous wife,than to any resentment of her complaints, which were rather of otherswho diverted his affections from her than of him, the prime cause ofher grief. One day that we walked in the pleasaunce, she led the wayto a seat which she said during her lord's last visit he had commendedfor the fair prospect it did command, and said it should be called "MyLady's Arbor."

  "He sent for the head-gardener," quoth she, "and charged him to plantabout it so many sweet flowers and gay shrubs as should make it intime a most dainty bower fit for a queen. These last words did, Iween, unwittingly escape his lips, and, I fear me, I was too shrewish;for I exclaimed, 'O no, my lord; I pray you let it rather be_un_fitted for a queen, if so be you would have me to enjoy it!' Hemade no answer, and his countenance was overcast and sad when hereturned to the house. I misdoubted my hasty speech had angered him;but when his horse came to the door for to carry him away to Londonand the court, he said very kindly, as he embraced me, 'Farewell, dearheart! mine own good Nan!' and in a letter he since wrote he inquiredif his orders had been obeyed touching his sweet countess'spleasure-house."

  I always noticed Lady Surrey to be very eager for the coming of themessenger which brought letters from London mostly twice in the week,and that in the untying of the strings which bound them her handtrembled so much that she often said, "Prithee, Constance, cut thisknot. My fingers be so cold I have not so much patience as shouldserve to the undoing thereof."

  One morning I perceived she was more sad than usual after the comingof this messenger. The cloud on her countenance chased away the joy Ihad at a letter from Basil, which was written from Paris, and whereinhe said he had sent to Rheims for to inquire if my father was yetthere, for in that case he should not so much fail in his duty as toomit seeking to see him; and so get at once, he trusted, a father anda priest's blessing."

  "What ails you, sweet lady?" I asked, seeing her lips quiver and hereyes to fill with tears.

  "Nothing should ail me," she answered more bitterly than was her wont."It should be, methinks, the part of a wife to rejoice in herhusband's good fortune; and here is one that doth write to me that mylord's favor with the queen is so great that nothing greater can bethought of: so that some do say, if he was not married he would belike to mount, not only to the steps, but on to the throne itself.Here should be grand news for to rejoice the heart of the Countess ofSurrey. Prithee, good wench, why dost thou not wish thy poor friendjoy?"

  I felt so much choler that any one should write to my lady in thisfashion, barbing with cruel malice, or leastways careless lack ofthought, this wanton arrow, that I exclaimed in a passion it should bea villain had thus written. She smiled in a sad manner and answered:

  "Alas, an innocent villain I warrant the writer to be, for the letteris from my Bess, who has heard others speak of that which she dothunwittingly repeat, thinking it should be an honor to my lo
rd, and tome also, that he should be spoken of in this wise. But content thee;'tis no great matter to hear that said again which I have had hints ofbefore, and am like to hear more of it, maybe."

  Then hastily rising, she prepared to go abroad; and we went to a lodgein the park, wherein she harbored a great store of poor children whichlacked their parents; and then to a barn she had fitted up for toafford a night's lodging to travellers; and to tend sickpeople--albeit, saving herself, she had no one in her household atthat time one half so skilful in this way as my Lady l'Estrange. Iween this was the sole place wherein her thoughts were so muchoccupied that she did for a while forget her own troubles in curingthose of others. A woman had stopped there