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"Such men commonly do so," said Mr Rose aside to Isoult, by whom he sat.
"Do what?" broke in Underhill, who heard it.
"Do perish with the sword," answered he firmly, looking him full in the face.
"Amen!" cried the other. "I am abundantly ready--only, pray you, let me have a good tilt with the old _mumpsimuses_ first." [Note 3.]
"I would I were a little more like you, Underhill," said Mr Rose. "I could suffer, as methinks, and perchance fly, an' I had the opportunity; but resist or defend me, that could I not."
"Call me to resist and defend you," answered Underhill. "It were right in my fas.h.i.+on."
"You may not be within call," said Mr Rose somewhat gloomily. "But G.o.d will be so."
"Mr Rose," said Isoult, "look you for a further persecution, that you speak thus?"
Thekla's eyes filled with tears.
"As Jack saith, Mrs Avery," he answered, "I am neither prophet nor apostle. But methinks none of us is out of his place upon the watch-tower. There be black clouds in the sky--very black thunder-clouds. How know I whether they shall break or pa.s.s over? Only G.o.d knoweth; and He shall carry us all safe through them that have trusted ourselves to Him. That is a word full of signification--'Some of you shall they cause to be put to death... _Yet_ shall not an hair of your heads perish.' Our Master may leave any of His servants to die or suffer; He will never allow so much as one of them to perish. O brethren! only let the thunder find us watching, praying always; and whether we escape or no, we are a.s.sured that we shall be 'counted worthy to stand before the Son of Man.' I would not like to 'be _ashamed_ before Him at His coming.'"
No one answered. All were too full of thought for words.
Note 1. The Lady Frances was the eldest daughter of Charles Duke of Suffolk by his fourth wife, the Princess Mary, and was therefore in the line of succession to the throne. Her daughters were the Ladies Jane, Katherine, and Mary Grey.
Note 2. Harl. Ms. 425, folio 93.--Underhill gives no date for this incident beyond saying "In King Edward's time."
Note 3. In the reign of Henry the Eighth, an old priest was found who for forty years had read the word _sumpsimus_ in his breviary as _mumpsimus_. On being remonstrated with, he retorted that "He would not leave his old _mumpsimus_ for their new _sumpsimus_." This story was long popular with the Gospellers, who dubbed the Popish priests _mumpsimuses_.
CHAPTER FIVE.
GATHERING CLOUDS.
"G.o.d lays His burden on each back; But who What is within the pack May know?"
Half of the reign of Josiah, as his people loved to call him, was run out in the summer of 1550. The breathing-time of hope was nearly over.
A June morning in that summer found Isoult Avery seated by the window at work, and Robin Tremayne holding a book which he was _not_ reading. His eyes were intently watching the light feathery clouds which floated across the blue s.p.a.ce beyond, and his thoughts were equally intent on some subject not yet apparent. Except Walter, who was busy in the corner, manufacturing paper boats, there was no one else in the room.
Robin broke the silence, and rather suddenly.
"Mother,"--he had come to call her so,--"what think you of Mr Rose?"
"What think I of him, Robin?" repeated Isoult, looking up, while a faint expression of surprise crossed her gentle countenance. "Why, he liketh me very well!"
"And what think you of Mrs Rose, Mother?"
The surprise increased in Isoult's look, and it was accompanied now by perplexity. But she only answered--
"She liketh me only less than her husband. I would she had been English-born, but that cannot she well help; and I have none other fault to find with her."
"And what think you, Mother, of Mrs Thekla?"
Robin said this in a very low voice. Dr Thorpe was coming in as he spoke, and the old man turned and faced round on the lad.
"O ho!" cried the Doctor, "blows the wind from that quarter?"
Apparently it did so, for Robin coloured scarlet.
"Come, come, lad!" said he, "thou art but now out of thy swaddling-clothes, and what dost thou with such gear? Put it away, and go whip thy top, like a good lad!"
"Dr Thorpe!" said Robin in an aggrieved voice, and drawing himself to his utmost height, "I was nineteen years of age last Saint Agnes!"
[January 21.]
"Thou art as many years of discretion as there be crowns o' the sun [Note 1] in a halfpenny," said he. "Nineteen, quotha! Why, thou idle hilding [youth], I have years sixty-nine, and I never thought of marrying yet."
Isoult laughed, but Robin was grave as a bishop, and plainly deemed himself affronted.
"That is your affair, Dr Thorpe," said he, demurely, "and this is mine, an't like you."
"A pretty plain hint to mind mine own business, whether it like me or no," replied the old man, with a little merry laugh. "Well, Robin, hie after. Are ye agreed? and is the wedding-day fixed? Shall it be Midsummer Day? Give me a jolly piece of the cake, as what else thou dost; and Isoult! mind thou set it mighty thick with plums."
"Dr Thorpe," said Robin, his patience woefully tried, "I wish you would let me be. I was talking with my mother."
"Say on!" answered he. "I will strive hard to set mine old legs a-dancing at thy wedding, though I promise not a galliardo [a dance wherein high leaps were taken, requiring great agility]. My word on't, it shall be a jovial sight! Hast seen the tailor touching thine attire?
Purple satin, or cramoisie?" [Crimson velvet.]
Robin's forbearance was plainly worn out. He rose and walked toward the door.
"Nay, lad, come!" called the old man. "I meant not in deed to grieve thee. Come back, Robin, and I will cease flouting thee, if it trouble thee. Come back, thou silly child!"
Robin turned back, after a moment's thought, and sat down on the settle he had left.
"I take your word for it, Dr Thorpe," he said, soberly. "But think you it not too grave a matter for jesting?"
"Grave!" cried Dr Thorpe. "What, wouldst thou have it spoken of like an execution?"
"I cry you mercy, Doctor," said Isoult, now joining in; "but in this matter I do take part with Robin. It alway seemeth me that men (ay, and women too), do speak with too much jesting and lightness touching this matter, which should be right serious. A man's choice of a wife is a choice for life, and is hardly to be talked of, meseemeth, in the same fas.h.i.+on with his choice of a partlet [neck ruff]. I pray you, pardon me if in so speaking, I fail aught in the reverence due unto your years."
"Why, dear child," saith he, "thou wist more of the matter than I, which was never married; so talk away, and I will hold my peace, and trouble my master the bridegroom no further. Say on, Mr Robert Tremayne."
"Methinks enough is said," answered Robin, staidly. "I await my mother's answer."
"Which may scarce be given in a moment, Robin," said Isoult, "nor without talk with mine husband thereupon. Moreover, Mr Rose shall have a word to say touching the matter."
John was hardly allowed to speak on his return from the law courts, before he had heard Isoult's story. He received the news at first as something irresistibly comic, but the next minute he grew grave, and evidently began to consider the matter seriously.