Mistress Margery Part 2

The great man from London, who sat in a large oak-chair in the hall, was a great man in all corporeal senses. He was very tall, and stout in proportion; an older man than his cousin Sir Ralph, perhaps ten or fifteen years older; and there was something in his face which made Margery drop her eyes in an instant. It was a very curious face. The upper part--the eyes and forehead--was finely-formed, and showed at least an average amount of intellect; but from the nose downward the form and expression of the features were suggestive only of the animal,--a brutal, sensual, repelling look. Margery, who had looked for the great man from London with girlish curiosity, suddenly felt an unconquerable and causeless dislike to him swell up in her heart, a something which she could neither define nor account for, that made her wish to avoid sitting near him, and turn her eyes away whenever his were directed towards her.

Sir Geoffrey presented his wife and daughter to Lord Marnell, and Sir Ralph came forward with a cordial greeting; after which they took their seats at table, for Richard Pynson was already bringing in the "farsure of hare," and Mistress Katherine following with the pottage. The occupants of the high table, on the dais, consisted of Sir Geoffrey and Dame Lovell, Lord Marnell, Sir Ralph Marston, Margery, Richard Pynson, Mistress Katherine, and Friar Andrew Rous, Sir Geoffrey's chaplain. The maids sat at the second table, and the farm-servants at a third, lower down the hall. Sir Ralph, as usual, was full of fun, and spared n.o.body, keeping the whole table in a roar of laughter, excepting Lord Marnell, who neither laughed at his cousin's jokes, nor offered any observations of his own, being wholly occupied with the discussion of the various dishes as they were presented to him, and consuming, according to the joint testimony of Dame Lovell and Friar Andrew after the feast, "enough to last seven men for a week." When dinner was over, and "the tables lifted," the company gathered round the fire, and proceeded to make themselves comfortable. Sir Ralph sang songs, and told funny anecdotes, and cracked jokes with the young people; while Lord Marnell, in conversation with Sir Geoffrey, showed that the promise of neither half of his face was entirely unfulfilled, by proving himself a shrewd observer, and not a bad talker. In the midst of this conversation, Sir Ralph, turning round to Sir Geoffrey, inquired if he had heard anything of a certain sermon that had been preached the day before at Bostock Church.

"I heard of it," answered he, "but I heard it not. Some of mine, methinks, heard the same. Madge, wentest not thou thereto?"

"Ay, good father, I went with Master Pynson."

"Ah!" said Sir Ralph. "I went not, for the which I now grieve, the more as my good cousin telleth me that Master Sastre is accounted a great one by some--but these seem not of the best."

"Misconceive me not, fair cousin," said Lord Marnell. "It is only the Lollards that think well of the man, and thou wottest that Holy Church looketh not kindly on their evil doings. That ill priest, John Wycliffe, who is accounted their leader, hath done more hurt to the faith than any heretic these many years."

"Thou art but ill affected unto them, I trow," said Sir Ralph, jokingly.

"Ill affected!" exclaimed Lord Marnell, bringing down his hand violently upon the arm of his chair, with a blow which made Margery start. "I cry you mercy, fair mistress--but if I knew of any among my kin or meynie [Household retinue] that leaned that way--ay, were it mine own sister, the Prioress of Kennington--I tell thee, Ralph, I would have her up before the King's Grace's council, and well whipped!"

Margery shuddered slightly. Sir Ralph leaned back in his chair, and laughed heartily.

"Well said, fair cousin mine! But I pray thee, tell me what doctrines hold these men, that thou wouldst have them all up afore the King's Grace's council, and well whipped?"

"All manner of evil!" answered Lord Marnell, wrathfully. "They hold, as I hear, that the blessed Sacrament of the Altar is in no wise the true body of Christ, but only a piece of bread blessed by the priest, and to be eaten in memory of His death; for the which reason also they would allow the lay folk to drink Christ's blood. Moreover, they say that the blessed angels and G.o.d's saints be not to be wors.h.i.+pped, but only to be held in reverence and kindly memory. Also, they give to the common people the Scriptures of G.o.d's Word for to read, which we wot well is only fit for priests. And in all things which they do, I find not that these evil wretches do hold any true thing as taught by Holy Church, but one, which is ma.s.ses for souls departed. I wis not much concerning them, for they move mine anger."

"I pray your good Lords.h.i.+p," asked Sir Geoffrey, "can you tell me whether these men be in great force in London or thereabouts at this time? Find they any favour in the Court?"

"They be ever increasing," said Lord Marnell "so much so that the King's council have seen good to prepare some orders against them--forbidding of their a.s.semblages, and such like--for to present unto the Parliament.

These orders provide, as my good friend holy Abbot Bilson did tell me, that all convicted to be Lollards shall suffer close prison, for longer or shorter time, as pleaseth the King's Grace. I trow they find not favour at Court with many, but the few that look well on them be unhaply of the highest. I have heard say that some in the Duke of Lancaster's palace show them favour, and it is no news that the Queen--whose soul G.o.d pardon!--did lean that way. In all open hours she was reading of Scripture in the vulgar tongue. Master Sastre, the priest, who my fair cousin telleth me was a-preaching in Bostock Church yestermorn, is, I take it, one of their chief men, and did learn of Master Wycliffe himself. I trow he will find it go hard with him if ever he cometh near London again. He goeth a-preaching of his doctrines up and down the realm, and perverting from the faith evilly-disposed men and sely [simple, unlearned] damsels who lack something to set their tongues running."

Sir Ralph here made a remark which turned the conversation; for this Margery was sorry, as it had interested her extremely. Lord Marnell's remarks taught her more about the Lollards than she had ever known before. So the Queen read the Bible in Englis.h.!.+ thought she. Why should not I do the same? She sat wrapped in her own thoughts for a long time, and when she roused herself from them, she noticed that Dame Lovell had quitted the room, and that Sir Ralph and Sir Geoffrey were talking politics, wherein they were occupied in proving, to the unqualified satisfaction of each, that there was "something rotten in the State," and that England could not last very long, her only business being to demolish France. And Margery, finding the conversation now extremely dull--though had she for an instant suspected the turn it would take in her absence, she certainly would never have gone--slipped out, and joined the more noisy party in the kitchen, where she found Dame Lovell seated in the chimney-corner and inveighing fervently against late hours.

"An it be not three of the clock already," said that angry lady, "I am a heathen Jew, and no Christian! Time to prepare supper for Christian folk--but when that great hulk of a man, that can do nothing in this world but eat, thinks to sup, I wis not! Marry, I trow that nought more will go down his throat until evensong! I marvel if our grandsons will be as great fools as we be!"

"More, Dame," answered Mistress Katherine, sententiously. She was a woman who very seldom spoke, and when she did, compressed all her ideas into as few words as would serve the purpose.

"Nay, Saint Christopher! I hope not," said Dame Lovell. "And what am I for to do now? Madge, la.s.s, open the door and bid hither Richard Pynson."

Margery softly opened the door into the hall; and as softly called the person who answered to that name. He rose, and came to her, and Sir Geoffrey and Lord Marnell, who were in low-toned, earnest conversation, suddenly stopped as she appeared.

"Richard," said Dame Lovell, in what she doubtlessly intended for a whisper, "I pray thee, good youth, to go in softly, and privily demand of Sir Ralph what time he list to sup."

Richard executed the order, and, returning, closed the door behind him.

"Sir Ralph saith, good mistress mine, that the Lord Marnell when at home suppeth not afore six of the clock; but he prayeth you for to sup when you will, to the which he will without doubt accommodate himself."

"Six of the clock!" cried Dame Lovell, in amazement. "Richard, art sure thou heardest aright?"

"Certes, good mistress."

Dame Lovell sat in silent horror.

"Well!" said she at length, "if ever in all my days did I hear of a like thing! Cicely, serve a void in my privy chamber at four of the clock.

This poor country of ours may well go to wrack, if its rulers sup not afore six of the clock! Dear, dear, dear! I marvel if the blessed Virgin Saint Mary supped not until six of the clock! May all the saints forgive us that we be such fools!"

CHAPTER THREE.

COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE.

"Ay, sooth we feel too strong in weal to need Thee on that road.

But woe being come, the soul is dumb that crieth not on G.o.d."

Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

The guests departed about seven o'clock, and Dame Lovell got to bed a little before nine--an hour which was in her eyes most untimely.

Margery, though she had not slept on the previous night, was unable to close her eyes for some time. The unwonted excitement kept her awake, and another idea, too, mingled with her thoughts. The book! How should she copy it? It must be at stolen hours--probably in the night. And what material should she use? Not vellum, for Sir Geoffrey might ask what she was doing if she requested more of that precious article than was necessary for her Breviary. He had allowed her some paper for the rough draft of her illuminations, and she had a little of this left.

She determined to make use of this paper so far as it would go, and to trust to circ.u.mstances for the remainder.

Thinking and contriving, Margery sank to sleep, and dreamed that Sir Geoffrey was reading the book to Lord Marnell, who, by that curious mixture which often takes place in dreams, was also Richard Pynson.

From this dream, about ten minutes after she fell asleep, as it appeared to her, Margery suddenly sprang up to the conviction that broad daylight was streaming in at the window. She rose and dressed herself hurriedly, and, running down into the kitchen, was surprised to find n.o.body there but Joan, the drudge of the household, who moreover was rubbing her eyes, and apparently only half awake.

"Why, Mistress Margery!" said the girl, in astonishment, "your good mistress-s.h.i.+p is early, considering our late hours. The Dame is not yet risen."

"In good sooth?" inquired Margery, looking at the clock, when she found to her surprise that it was barely five o'clock; and receiving from Joan the information that Dame Lovell had told Cicely overnight that she did not intend to appear until six, she returned to her own room, and, drawing the book from its hiding-place, commenced her task of copying.

Margery worked quickly, and had copied nearly a page in the hour. So absorbed was she in her task, that she never heard the door open, and started like a guilty thing when the well-known voice of her mother sounded close by her.

"Eh, Madge! Up and at work? Thou wilt work thy fingers to the bone, child! Is that thy ma.s.s-book? Nay, it is paper, I see, and that, I wis, is on vellum. What art doing, damsel?"

Pale and red, red and pale, went Margery by turns at this string of questions.

"Why, la.s.s, what hast?" asked Dame Lovell, in surprise.

"I cry you mercy, good mother!" said Margery, descending to equivocation, and blus.h.i.+ng more than ever; "I heard you not open my door, and your voice started me."

"Poor Madge! did I fright thee?" said Dame Lovell, kindly. "But what is this, child? Another Breviary? Dost want two?"

"Poor Madge" she was indeed at this moment. Terrified beyond measure lest Dame Lovell should inform Sir Geoffrey, whose learned eyes would perceive in a moment what the book was--and seeing more danger in his discovering its real character than in letting him suppose it to be another Breviary, Margery, generally so truth-telling, was frightened into a lie.

"Ay, good mother," she stammered out, "'tis a Breviary."

All that day Margery sat upon thorns; but Dame Lovell made no mention of the incident, and she accordingly hoped it was forgotten.

Day after day pa.s.sed on, and Margery worked harder than ever at copying the book. She finished her task just one day before the month was up, and gave back the original to Richard Pynson, entreating him to make an errand to Marston as soon as possible, and restore the book, with her hearty thanks, into the hands of Master Carew.

On the evening of that day, Dame Lovell sat at work in the wide chimney-corner of the hall. Near her was Mistress Katherine, sc.r.a.ping almonds into a bowl; while Margery, occupied with her distaff, sat at a little distance. On a wide oaken settle on the opposite side of the fire lay Friar Andrew, taking a nap, as was his afternoon custom; while on another settle drawn up before the fire, Sir Geoffrey and Richard Pynson sat conversing with the ladies.

"Madge, la.s.s, hast finished thy Breviary?" asked Sir Geoffrey. "An thou hast, I would see it."

Margery's heart leaped into her mouth, for now was the time for the discovery of her falsehood to be made. Simply replying, however, "I will seek it, father," she rose and laid her distaff down.