the vessel--a Catholic man, the son of an oldretainer of his family--with whom he had dealt for the hiring of avessel for to sail to France as soon as the wind should provefavorable. Whilst they were gone upon this business, Lady Arundel andI sat in the chamber which looked into the court, making such simplepreparations as would escape notice for our wedding, and the departurewhich should speedily afterward ensue.
"I will not yield thee," her ladyship said, "to be married except in awhite dress and veil, which I shall hide in a chamber nigh unto theoratory, where I myself will attire thee, dear love; and see, thismorning early I went out alone into the garden and gathered this storeof rosemary, for to make thee a nosegay to wear in thy bosom. FatherSouthwell saith it is used at weddings for an emblem of fidelity. Ifso, who should have so good a right to it as my Constance and herBasil? But I will lay it up in a casket, which shall conceal it thewhile, and aid to retain the scent thereof."
"O dear lady," I cried, seizing her hands, "do you remember the daywhen you plucked rosemary in our old garden at Sherwood, and smiling,said to me, 'This meaneth remembrance?' Since it signifieth fidelityalso, well should you affection it; for where shall be found one sofaithful in love and friendship as you?"
"Weep not," she said, pressing her fingers on her eyelids to stay herown tears. "We must needs thank God and be joyful on the eve of thywedding-day; and I am resolved to meet my lord also with a cheerfulcountenance, so that not in gloom but in hope he shall leave hisnative land."
In converse such as this the hours went swiftly by. Sometimes wetalked of the past, its many strange haps and changes; sometimes ofthe future, forecasting the manner of our lives abroad, where insafety, albeit in poverty, we hoped to spend our days. In theafternoon there arrived at the castle my Lord William Howard and hiswife and Lady Margaret Sackville, who, having notice of theirbrother's intent to go beyond seas on the next day, if it should bepossible, had come for to bid him farewell.
Leaving Lady Arundel in their company, I went to the terraceunderneath the walls of the castle, and there paced up and down,chewing the cud of both sweet and sad memories. I looked at the softblue sky and fleecy clouds, urged along by a westerly breezeimpregnated with a salt savor; on the emerald green of the fields, thegraceful forms of the leafless trees on the opposite hills, on thecattle peacefully resting by the river-side. I listed to the rustlingof the wind amongst the bare branches over mine head, and the bells ofa church ringing far off in the valley. "O England, mine own England,my fair native land--am I to leave thee, never to return?" I cried,speaking aloud, as if to ease my oppressed heart. Then mine eyesrested on the ruined hospital of the town, the shut-up churches, theprofaned sanctuaries, and thought flying beyond the seas to a Catholicland, I exclaimed, "The sparrow shall find herself a house, and theturtle-dove a nest for herself--the altars of the Lord of hosts, myking and my God."
When Basil returned, he told me that the vessel which was to take usto France was lying out at sea near the coast. Lord Arundel andhimself had gone in a boat to speak with the captain, who did seem aparticular honest man and zealous Catholic; and the earl had bespokensome needful accommodation for Mistress Martingale, he said, smiling;not very commodious, indeed, but as good as on board the like craftcould be expected. If the wind remained in the same quarter in theafternoon of the morrow, we should then sail; if it should change, soas to be most unfavorable, the captain should send private notice ofit to the castle.
The whole of that evening the earl spent in writing a letter to hermajesty. He feared that his enemies, after his departure, would, bytheir slanderous reports, endeavor to disgrace him with the people,and cause the queen to have sinister surmises of him. He confided thisletter to the Lady Margaret, his sister, to be delivered unto herafter his arrival in France; by which it might appear, both to her andall others, what were the true causes which had moved him to undertakethat resolution.
I do often think of that evening in the great chamber of thecastle--the young earl in the vigorous strength and beauty of manhood,his comely and fair face now bending over his writing, now raised witha noble and manly grief, as he read aloud portions of it, which,methinks, would have touched any hearts to hear them; and how much themore that loving wife, that affectionate sister, that faithfulbrother, those devoted friends which seemed to be in some sortwitnesses of his last will before a final parting! I mind me of thesorrowful, dove-like sweetness of Lady Arundel's countenance; theflashing eyes of Lady Margaret; the loving expression, veiled by astudied hardness, of Lord William's face; of his wife my Lady Bess'sreddening cheek and tearful eyes, which she did conceal behind thecoif of her childish namesake sitting on her knees. When he hadfinished his letter, with a somewhat moved voice the earl read thelast passages thereof: "If my protestation, who never told yourmajesty any untruth, may carry credit in your opinion, I here call Godand his angels to witness that I would not have taken this course if Imight have stayed in England without danger of my soul or peril of mylife. I am enforced to forsake my country, to forget my friends, toleave my wife, to lose the hope of all worldly pleasures and earthlycommodities. All this is so grievous to flesh and blood, that I couldnot desire to live if I were not comforted with the remembranceof his mercy for whom I endure all this, who endured ten thousandtimes more for me. Therefore I remain in assured hope that myself andmy cause shall receive that favor, conceit, and rightful constructionat your majesty's hands which I may justly challenge. I do humblycrave pardon for my long and tedious letter, which the weightiness ofthe matter enforced me unto; and I beseech God from the bottom of myheart to send your majesty as great happiness as I wish to mine ownsoul."
A time of silence followed the reading of these sentences, and thenthe earl said in a cheerful manner:
"So, good Meg, I commit this protestation to thy good keeping. Whenthou hearest of my safe arrival in France, then straightway see tohave it placed in the queen's hands."
The rest of the evening was spent in affectionate converse by thesenear kinsfolk. Basil and I repaired the while by the secret passage toFather Southwell's chamber, where we were in turn shriven, andafterward received from him such good counsel and rules of conduct ashe deemed fitting for married persons to observe. Before I left him,this good father gave me, writ in his own hand, some sweet verseswhich he had that day composed for us, and which I do here transcribe.He, smiling, said he had made mention of fishes in his poem, for topleasure so famous an angler as Basil; and of birds, for that he knewme to be a great lover of these soaring creatures:
"The lopped tree in time may grow again. Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower; The sorest wight may find release of pain. The driest soil suck in some moistening shower; Times go by turn, and chances change by course. From foul to fair, from better hap to worse.
"The sea of fortune doth not over flow, She draws her favors to the lowest ebb; Her time hath equal times to come and go. Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web; No joy so great but runneth to an end. No hap so hard but may in fine amend.
"A chance may win that by mischance was lost. The well that holds no great, takes little fish; In some things all, in all things none are crossed. Few all they need, but none have all they wish; Unmeddled joys here to no man befal, Who least have some, who most have never all.
"Not always fall of leaf, nor ever spring; No endless night, yet not eternal day; The saddest birds a season find to sing; The roughest storm a calm may soon allay; Thus with succeeding turns God tempereth all, That man may hope to rise, yet fear to fall."
The common sheet of paper which doth contain this his writing hath agreater value in mine eyes than the most rich gift that can be thoughtof.
On the next morning. Lady Arundel conducted me from mine own chamber,first into a room where with her own hands she arrayed me in my bridaldress, and with many tender kisses and caresses, such as a sister or amother would bestow, testified her affection for her poor friend; andthence to the oratory, where the altar was prepared, and by herself insecret
decked with early primroses, which had begun to show in thewoods and neath the hedges. A small but noble company were gatheredround us that day. From pure and holy lips the Church's benison cameto us. The vows we exchanged have been faithfully observed, and longyears have set a seal on the promises then made.
Basil's wife! Oh, what a whole compass of happiness did lie in thosetwo words! Yea, the waves of the sea might now rage and the windsblow. The haven might be distant and the way thither insecure. Man'senmity or accident might yet rob us each of the other's visiblepresence. But naught could now sever the cord, strong like unto acable chain, which bound our souls in one. Anchored in that weddedunity, which is one of God's sacraments, till death, ay, and beyonddeath also, this tie should last.
We have been young, and now are old. We have lost country, home, andalmost
Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century Page 99
