Events have followed too quick and thick for me to note 'em. Firste,Father'sEmbassade toCambray, which I shoulde have grieved at more on our owne Accounts, had it not broken off alle further CollisionwithWill. Thoroughlie homesick, while abroad, poorFatherwas; then, on his Return, he noe sooner sett his Foot a-land, than the King summoned him toWoodstock. 'Twas a Couple o' Nights after he left us, thatWilland I were roused byPatteson'sshouting beneath our Window, "Fire, Fire, quothJeremiah!" and the House was a-fire, sure enow. Greate Part of the Men's Quarter, together with alle the Out-houses and Barns, consumed without Remedie, and alle through the Carelessnesse ofJohn Holt. Howbeit, noe Lives were lost, nor any one much hurt; and we thankfullie obeyed deareFather'sBehest, soe soone as we received the same, that we woulde get us to Church, and there, upon our Knees, return humble and harty Thanks toAlmighty Godfor our late Deliverance from a fearfulle Death. Alsoe, atFather'sDesire, we made up tothe poor People on our Premises theire various Losses, which he bade us doe, even if it left him without soe much as a Spoon.
But then came an equallie unlookt-for, and more appalling Event: the Fall of myLord Cardinall, whereby my Father was shortlie raised to the highest Pinnacle of professional Greatnesse; being madeLord Chancellor, to the Content, in some Sort, ofWolseyhimself, who sayd he was the onlie Man fit to be his Successor.
The unheard-of Splendour of his Installation dazzled the Vulgar; while the Wisdom that marked the admirable Discharge of his daylie Duties, won the Respect of alle thinking Men, but surprized none who alreadie knewFather. On the Day succeeding his being sworn in,Pattesonmarched hither, and thither, bearing a huge Placard, inscribed, "Partnership Dissolved;" and apparelled himselfin an old Suit, on which he had bestowed a Coating of black Paint, with Weepers of white Paper; assigning for't that "his Brother was dead." "For now," quoth he, "that they've made himLord Chancellor, we shall ne'er see SirThomasmore."
Now, although the poorCardinallwas commonlie helde to shew much Judgment in his Decisions, owing to the naturall Soundness of his Understanding, yet, being noe Lawyer, Abuses had multiplied during his Chancellorship, more especiallie in the Way of enormous Fees and Gratuities.Father, not content with shunning base Lucre in his proper Person, will not let anie one under him, to his Knowledge, touch a Bribe; whereatDancey, after his funny Fashion, complains, saying,—
"The Fingers of myLord Cardinall'sveriest Door-keepers were tipt with Gold,but I, since I married your Daughter, have got noe Pickings; which in your Case may be commendable, but in mine is nothing profitable."
Father, laughing, makes Answer,—
"Your Case is hard, SonDancey, but I can onlie say for your Comfort, that, soe far as Honesty and Justice are concerned, if mine owne Father, whom I reverence dearly, stoode before me on the one Hand, and the Devil, whom I hate extremely, on the other, yet, the Cause of the latter being just, I shoulde give the Devil his Due."
Giles Heronhath found this to his Cost. Presuming on his near Connexion with my Father, he refused an equitable Accommodation of a Suit, which, thereon, coming into Court,Father'sDecision was given flat agaynst him.
His Decision agaynstMotherwas equallieimpartiall, and had Something comique in it. Thus it befelle.—A Beggar-woman's little Dog, which had beene stolen from her, was offered myMotherfor Sale, and she bought it for a Jewel of no greate Value. After a Week or soe, the Owner finds where her Dog is, and cometh to make Complaynt of the Theft toFather, then sitting in his Hall. SaythFather, "Let's have a faire Hearing in open Court; thou, Mistress, stand there where you be, to have impartial Justice; and thou,DameAlice, come up hither, because thou art of the higher Degree. Now then, call each of you the Puppy, and see which he will follow." SoeSweetheart, in spite ofMother, springs off to the old Beggar-woman, who, unable to keep from laughing, and yet moved at Mother's Losse, sayth,—
"Tell 'ee what, Mistress ... thee shalt have 'un for a Groat."
"Nay," saythMother, "I won't mind giving thee a Piece of Gold;" soe the Bargain was satisfactorily concluded.
The Beggar-Woman's Dog.
Father'sDespatch of Businesse is such, that, one Morning before the End of Term, he was tolde there was noe other Cause nor Petition to be sett before him; the which, being a Case unparalleled, he desired mighte be formally recorded.
He ne'er commences Businesse in his owne Court without first stepping intothe Court of King's Bench, and there kneeling down to receive my Grandfather's Blessing.Willsayth 'tis worth a World to see the Unction with which the deare old Man bestows it on him.
In Rogation-week, following the Rood as usuall round the Parish,Heroncounselled him to go a Horseback for the greater Seemlinesse, but he made Answer that 'twoulde be unseemlie indeede for the Servant to ride after his Master going afoot.
His Grace ofNorfolk, coming yesterday to dine with him, finds him in the Church-choir, singing, with a Surplice on.
"What?" cries theDuke, as they walk Home together, "myLord Chancellorplaying the Parish-clerk? Sure, you dishonour the King and his Office."
"Nay," saysFather, smiling, "your Grace must not deem that the King,your Master and mine, will be offended at my honouringhisMaster."
Sure, 'tis pleasant to heareFathertaking the upper Hand of these great Folks: and to have 'em coming and going, and waiting his Pleasure, because he is the Man whom the King delighteth to honour.
True, indeed, withWolsey'twas once the same; butFatherneede not feare the same Ruin; because he hathHimfor his Friend, whomWolseysaid woulde not have forsaken him had he servedHimas he served his earthly Master. 'Twas a misproud Priest; and there's the Truth on't. AndFatheris not misproud; and I don't believe we are; though proud of him we cannot fail to be.
And I know not why we may not be pleased with Prosperitie, as well as patient under Adversitie; as long as we say, "Thou,Lord, hast made our Hill soestrong." 'Tis more difficult to bear with Comelinesse, doubtlesse; and envious Folks there will be; and we know alle Things have an End, and everie Sweet hath its Sour, and everie Fountain its Fall; but ... 'tis very pleasant for all that.
In the Garden.
Tuesday, 31st, 1532.
Who coulde have thoughte that those ripe Grapes whereof dearGafferate soe plentifullie, should have ended his Dayes? This Event hath filled the House with Mourning. He had us all about his Bed to receive his Blessing; and 'twas piteous to seeFatherfall upon his Face, asJosephon the Face ofJacob, and weep upon him and kiss him. LikeJacob, my Grandsire lived to see his duteous Son attain to the Height of earthlie Glory, his Heart unspoyled and untouched.
July, 1532.
The Days of Mourning for my Grandsire are at an end; yetFatherstill goeth heavilie. This Forenoon, looking forthe of my Lattice, I saw him walking along the River Side, his Arm cast aboutWill'sNeck; and 'twas a dearer Sight to my Soul than to see theKingwalking there with his Arm aroundFather'sNeck. They seemed in such earnest Converse, that I was avised to askWill, afterwards, what they had been saying. He told me that, after much friendly Chat together on this and that,Fatherfell into a Muse, and presently, fetching a deep Sigh, says,—
"Would toGod, SonRoper, on Condition three Things were well establishedin Christendom, I were put into a Sack, and cast presently into theThames."Willsayth,—
"What three soe great Things can they be,Father, as to move you to such a Wish?"
"In Faith,Will," answers he, "they be these.—First, that whereas the most Part of Christian Princes be at War, they were at universal Peace. Next, that whereas the Church ofChristis at present sore afflicted with divers Errors and Heresies, it were well settled in a godly Uniformity. Last, that this Matter of theKing'sMarriage were, to the Glory ofGod, and the Quietness of alle Parties, brought to a good Conclusion."
Indeed, this last Matter preys on my Father's Soul. He hath even knelt to the King, to refrain from exacting Compliance with his Grace's Will concerningit; movingly reminding him, even with Tears, of his Grace's own Words to him on delivering the Great Seal, "First look untoGod, and, afterGod, unto me." But the King is heady in this Matter; stubborn as a Mule or wild Ass's Colt, whose Mouths must be held with Bit and Bridle if they be to be governed at alle; and the King hath taken the Bit between his Teeth, and there is none dare ride him. Alle for Love of a brown Girl, with a Wen on her Throat, and an extra Finger.
July 18th.
How short a Time agone it seemeth, that in my Prosperity I sayd, "We shall never be moved; Thou,Lord, of Thy goodness hast made our Hill soe strong!... Thou didst turn away thy Face, and I was troubled!"
28th.
Thus saythPlato: of Him whom he soughte, but hardly found: "Truth is his Body, and Light his Shadow." A marvellous Saying for a Heathen.
Hear also what St.Johnsayth: "Godis Light; and in him is no Darkness at all." "And the Light was the Life of Men: and the Light shineth in Darkness, and the Darkness comprehended it not."
Hear also what St.Augustinesayth: "They are the most uncharitable towards Error who have never experienced how hard a Matter it is to come at the Truth."
Hard, indeed. Here'sFatheragaynstWill, and agaynstErasmus, of whom he once could not speak well enough; and now he says that if he upholds such and such Opinions his dearErasmusmay be the Devil'sErasmusfor what he cares. And here'sFatherat Issue with half the learned Heads in Christendom concerning the King's Marriage. And yet, for alle that, I thinkFatheris in the Right.
He taketh Matters soe to Heart that e'en his Appetite fails. Yesterday he put aside his old favourite Dish of Brewis, saying, "I know not how 'tis, goodAlice; I've lost my Stomach, I think, for my old Relishes" ... and this, e'en with a Tear in his Eye. But 'twas not the Brewis, I know, that made it start.
Aug.
He hath resigned the Great Seal! And none of us knew of his having done soe, nor e'en of his meditating it, till after Morning Prayers to-day, when, insteade of one of his Gentlemen stepping up to my Mother in her Pew with the Words, "Madam, my Lord is gone," he cometh up to her himself, with a Smile on's Face, and sayth, low bowing as he spoke, "Madam, my Lord is gone." She takes it for one of the manie Jests whereof she misses the Point; and 'tis not till we are out of Church, in the open Air, that she fully comprehends myLord Chancelloris indeed gone, and she hath onlie her SirThomas More.
and sayth, low bowing as he spoke, 'Madam, my Lord is gone.'"and sayth, low bowing as he spoke, 'Madam, my Lord is gone.'"
"and sayth, low bowing as he spoke, 'Madam, my Lord is gone.'"
A Burst of Tears was no more than was to be lookt for from poor Mother; and, in Sooth, we alle felt aggrieved and mortyfide enough; but 'twas a short Sorrow; forFatherdeclared that he had castPelionandOssaoff his Back into the bottomless Pit; and fell into such funny Antics that we were soon as merry as ever we were in our Lives.Patteson, so soon as he hears it, comes leaping and skipping across the Garden, crying, "A fatted Calf! let a fatted Calf be killed, Masters and Mistresses, for this my Brother who was dead is alive again!" and falls a kissing his Hand. But poorPatteson'sNote will soon change; forFather'sdiminished State will necessitate the Dismissal of all extra Hands; and there is manie a Servant under his Roof whom he can worse spare than the poor Fool.
In the Evening he gathers us alle about him in the Pavilion, where he throws himself into his old accustomed Seat, casts his Arm aboutMother, and cries, "How glad mustCincinnatushave been to spy out his Cottage again, withRaciliastanding at the Gate!" Then, called for Curds and Cream; sayd how sweet the soft Summer Air was coming over the River, and badeCecilsing "The King's Hunt's up." After this, one Ballad after another was called for, till alle had sung their Lay, ill or well, he listing the While with closed Eyes, and a composed Smile about his Mouth; the two Furrows between his Brows relaxing graduallie till at length they could no more be seene. At last he says,—
"Who was that old Prophet that could not or would not prophesy for a King ofJudahtill a Minstrel came and playedunto him? Sure, he must have loved, as I do, the very lovely Song of one that playeth well upon an Instrument, yclept the Human Heart; and have felt, as I do now, the Spirit given him to speak of Matters foreign to his Mind. 'Tis ofres angusta domi, dear Brats, I must speak; soe, the sooner begun, the sooner over. Here am I, with a dear Wife and eight loved Children ... for my Daughters' Husbands and my Son's Wife are my Children as much as any; andMercy Giggsis a Daughter too ... nine Children, then, and eleven Grandchildren, and a Swarm of Servants to boot, all of whom have as yet eaten what it pleased them, and drunken what it suited them at my Board, without its being any one's Businesse to say them nay. 'Twas the dearest Privilege of myLord Chancellor; but now he's dead andgone, how shall we contract the Charges of SirThomas More?"
We looked from one to another, and were silent.
"I'll tell ye, dear ones," he went on. "I have been brought up atOxford, at an Inn of Chancery, at Lincoln's Inn, and at the King's Court; from the lowest Degree, that is, to the highest; and yet have I in yearly Revenues at this Present, little above one Hundred Pounds a-year; but then, asChilosayth, 'honest Loss is preferable to dishonest Gain: by the first, a Man suffers once; by the second for ever;' and I may take up my Parable withSamuel, and say: 'Whose Ox have I taken? whose Ass have I taken? whom have I defrauded? whom have I oppressed? of whose Hand have I received any Bribe to blinde mine Eyes therewith?' No, my worst Enemiescannot lay to my Charge any of these Things; and my Trust in you is, that, rather than regret I should not have made a Purse by any such base Methods, you will all cheerfully contribute your Proportions to the common Fund, and share and share alike with me in this my diminished State."
We all gat about him, and by our Words and Kisses gave Warrant that we would.
"Well, then," quoth he, "my Mind is, that since we are all of a Will to walk down-hill together, we will do soe at a breathing Pace, and not drop down like a Plummet. Let all Things be done decently and in order: we won't descend toOxfordFare first, nor yet to the Fare ofNew Inn. We'll begin withLincoln's InnDiet, whereon many good and wise Men thrive well; if we find this draw too heavily on theCommon-Purse, we will, next Year, come down toOxfordFare, with which many great and learned Doctors have been conversant; and, if our Purse stretch not to cover e'en this, why, in Heaven's Name! we'll go begging together, with Staff and Wallet, and sing aSalve Reginaat every good Man's Door, whereby we shall still keep Company, and be merry together!"
Sept. 22d.
Now that the first Surprise and Grief, and the first Fervour of Fidelity and Self-devotion have passed off, we have subsided into how deep and holy a Quiet!
We read of the Desertion of the World, as a Matter of Course; but, when our own Turn comes, it does seem strange, tofind ourselves let fall down the Stream without a single Hand outstretched to help us; forgotten, in a Moment, as though we had never been, by those who lately ate and laughed at our Table. And this, without any Fault or Offence of ours, but merely from our having lost the Light of theKing'sCountenance. I say, it does seem strange; but how fortunate, how blessed are those to whom such a Course of Eventsonlyseems strange, unaccompanied by Self-reproach and Bitterness! I could not help feeling this, in reading an affectionate Letter deareFatherwrit this Forenoon toErasmus, wherein he sayd, "I have now obtained what, from a Child, I have continually wished! that, being entirely quit of Businesse and all publick Affairs, I might live for a Time only toGodand myself."
Having no Hankering after the old Round he soe long hath run, he now, in Fact, looks younger every Day; and yet, not with the same Kind of Youth he had before his Back was bowed under the Chancellorship. 'Tis a more composed, chastised Sort of Rejuvenescence: rather the soft Warmth of Autumn, which sometimes seems like May, than May itself: the enkindling, within this mortal Tabernacle, of a heavenly Light that never grows dim, because it is immortal; and burns the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever: a Youthfulness of Soul and Mind characterised by Growth; Something with which this World and its fleeting Fancies has nothing to do: Something that theKingcan neither impart nor take away.
... We have had a tearfull Morning ... poorPattesonhas gone. My Father hath obtained good Quarters for him withmyLord Mayor, with a Stipulation that he shall retain his Office with theLord Mayorfor the Time being, as long as he can fill it at all. This suitsPatteson, who says he will sooner shift Masters year by year, than grow too fond of any Man again, as he hath ofFather; but there has been sad blubbering and blowing of Noses.
Sept. 24th.
This Afternoon, coming uponMercyseated in the Alcove, like unto the Image of some Saint in a Niche, her Hands folded on her Lap, and her Eyes steadfastly agaze on the setting Sun, I could not but mark how Years were silentlie at work upon her, as doubtless upon us alle; the tender, fearfulle Girl having thus gradualliechanged into the sober, high-minded Woman. She is so seldom seene in Repose, so constantly astir and afoot in this or that kind Office, mostly about the Children, that I had never thought upon it before; but now I was alle at once avised to marvel that she who had so long seemed fitter for Heaven than Earth, shoulde never literallie have vowed herself the Spouse ofChrist; more in especiall as all Expectation of being the Spouse of anie else must long since have died within her.
I sayd, "Mercy, thou lookst like a Nun: how is't thou hast ne'er become one in Earnest?"
She started; then sayd, "Could I be more usefull? more harmless? less exposed to Temptation? or half so happy as I am now? In sooth,Meg, the Time has been when methought, howsweet the living Death of the Cloister! How good that must needs be which had the Suffrages ofChrysostomthe golden-mouthed, and holyAmbrose, and our ownAnselm! How peacefull, to take Wing like the Dove, and fly away from a naughty World, and be at Rest! How brave, to live alone, like St.Antony, in the Desert! only I would have had some Books with me in my Cave, and 'tis uncertayn whether St.Antonyhad Knowledge of Letters, beyond the heaven-taught Lesson, 'Godis Love,' ... for methought so much Reflection and no Action would be too much for a Woman's Mind to bear—I might goe mad: and I remembered me how the Dove that gladly flew away from the Ark, gladly flew back, and abode in the Ark till such Time as a new Home was ready for her. Andmethought, cannot I live apart from Sin here, and now; and as to Sorrow, where can we live apart from that? Sure, we may live on the Skirts of the World in a Spiritt as truly unworldlie, as though we were altogether out of it: and here I may come and go, and range in the fresh Air, and love other Folks' Children, and read my Psalter, and pore over the Sayings of the wise Men of old, and look on the Faces I love, and sit at the Feet of SirThomas More. Soe there,Meg, are my poor Reasons for not caring to be a Nun. Our deare Lord is in himself all that our highest, holiest Affections can seek or comprehend; for he made these our Hearts; he gave us these our Affections; and through them the Spirit speaks. Aspiring to their Source, they rise up like the white Smoke and brightFlame; while, on Earth, if left unmastered, they burn, suffocate, and destroy. Yet they have their natural and innocent Outlets even here; and a Woman may warm herself by them without Scorching, and yet be neither a Wife nor a Nun."
Sept. 28th.
Ever sinceFather'sSpeech to us in the Pavilion, we have beene of one Heart and one Soul; neither have any of us said that aught of the Things we possessed were our own, but we have had all Things in Common. And we have eaten our Meat with Gladness and Singleness of Heart.
This Afternoon, expressing toFathermy gratefull Sense of our present Happiness ... "Yes,Meg," returns he, "Itoo, am deeply thankful for this breathing Space."
"Do you look on it as no more, then?" I sayd.
"As no more,Meg: we shall have a Thunder-clap by-and-by. Look out on theThames. See how unwontedlie clear it is, and how low the Swallows fly.... How distinctlie we see the green Sedges onBatterseaBank, and their reflected Images in the Water. We can almost discern the Features of those poor Knaves digging in the Cabbage Gardens, and hear 'em talk, so still is the Air. Have you ne'er before noted these Signs?"
"A Storm is brewing," I sayd.
"Aye, we shall have a Lightning-flash anon. So still,Meg, is also our moral Atmosphere just now.Godis giving us a breathing Space, as he did to theEgyptians before the Plague of Hail, that they might gather their live Stock within Doors. Let us take for Example them that believed and obeyed him; and improve this holy Pause."
Just at this Moment, a few heavie Drops fell agaynst the Window Pane, and were seene by both. Our Eyes met; and I felt a silent Pang.
"Five Days before thePassover," resumedFather, "all seemed as still and quiet as we are now; butJesusknew his Hour was at hand. E'en while he yet spake familiarly among the People, there came a Sound from Heaven, and they that stood by said it thundered; butheknew it for the Voice of his dear Father. Let us, in like Manner, when the Clap cometh, recognise in it the Voice ofGod, and not be afraid with any Amazement."
Nov. 2d.
Gammer Gurneyis dead, and I must say I am glad of it. The Change, to her, must be blessed, and there seemed some Danger lest, after having escaped being ducked for a Witch, she shoulde have been burnt for a Heretic.Fatherlooked on her as an obstinate old Woman;Willcounted her little short of a Saint and Prophetess, and kept her well supplied with alle she could need. Latterly she was stone deaf; so 'tis a happy Release.
The settled Purpose ofFather'sSoul, just now, is to make up a Marriage betweenMercyand Dr.Clement. 'Tis high Advancement for her, and there seems to have been some old Liking between 'em we never knew of.
1533, April 1.
Though some Months have passed since my Father uttered his warning Voice, and all continues to go quiet, I cannot forbear, now and then, to call his Monition to Mind, and look about for the Cloud that is to bring the Thunder-clap; but the Expectation sobers rather than saddens me.
This Morning, leaning over the River Wall, I was startled by the cold, damp Hand of some one from behind being laid on mine. At the same Time a familiar Voice exclaimed, "Canst tell us, Mistress, why Fools have hot Heads and Hands icy cold?"
I made Answer, "Canst tell me,Patteson,why Fools should stray out of Bounds?"
"Why, that's what Fools do every Day," he readily replied; "but this isAll Fools' Day, mine own special Holiday; and I told myLord Mayorovernight, that if he lookt for a Fool this Morning, he must look in the Glass. In sooth, MistressMeg, I should by Rights wear the Gold Chain and he the Motley; for a proper Fool he is, and I shall be glad when his Year's Service to me is out. The worst o' these Lord Mayors is, that we can't part with 'em till their Time's up. Why now, this present one hath not so much Understanding as would foot an old Stocking; 'twas but yesterday when, in Quality of my Taster, he civilly enough makes over to me a half-eaten Plate of Gurnet, which I wave aside, thus, saying, I eatno Fish of which I cannot affirm, 'rari sunt Boni,' few are the Bones ... and I protest to you he knew it not for Fool's Latin. Thus I'm driven, from mere Discouragement, to leave prating for listening, which thou knowest, Mistress, is no Fool's Office; and among the sundrie Matters I hear at my Lord's Table ... for he minds not what he says before his Servants, thereby giving new Proof 'tis he shoulde wear the Motley ... I note his saying that theKing'sprivate Marriage will assuredlie be made publick this coming Easter, and my LadyAnnewill be crowned ... more by token, he knows the Merchant that will supply theGenoaVelvet and Cloth of Gold, and the Masquers that are to enact the Pageant. For the Love o' Safety, then, MistressMeg, bid thy goodFathere'en take a Fool's Advice,and eat humble Pie betimes, for doubt not this proud Madam to be as vindictive asHerodias, and one that, unless he appease her full early, will have his Head set before her in a Charger. I've said my Say."
April 4th.
Three Bishops have been here this Forenoon, to bidFatherto the Coronation, and offer him twenty Pounds to provide his Dress; butFatherhath, with Courtesie, declined to be present. After much friendly pressing, they parted, seemingly on good Terms; but I have Misgivings of the Issue.
April 9th.
Aridiculous Charge hath beene got up 'gainst dearFather; no less than of Bribery and Corruption. OneParnellcomplaineth of a Decree given agaynst him in favour of oneVaughan, whose Wife, he deponeth, gaveFathera gilt Flaggon. To the noe small Surprise of the Council,Fatheradmitted that she had done soe: "But, my Lords," proceeded he, when they had uttered a few Sentences of Reprehension somewhat too exultantlie, "will ye list the Conclusion of the Tale? I bade my Butler fill the Cup with Wine, and having drunk her Health, I made her pledge me, and then restored her Gift, and would not take it again."
As innocent a Matter, touching the offering him a Pair of Gloves containing Forty Pounds, and his taking the first and returning the last, saying he preferred his Gloves without Lining, hath been made publick with like Triumph to his own good Fame; but alack! these Feathers show which way sets the Wind.
April 13th.
Aheavier Charge than either of the above hath been got up, concerning the wicked Woman ofKent, with whom they accuse him of having tampered, that, in her pretended Revelations and Rhapsodies, she might utter Words against theKing'sDivorce. His Name hath, indeed, been put in the Bill of Attainder; but, out of Favour, hehath been granted a private Hearing, his Judges being, the new Archbishop, the new Chancellor, his Grace ofNorfolk, and MasterCromwell.
He tells us that they stuck not to the Matter in Hand, but began cunningly enow to sound him on theKing'sMatters; and finding they could not shake him, did proceed to Threats, which, he told 'em, might well enow scare Children, but not him; and as to his having provoked his Grace theKingto sett forth in his Book aught to dishonour and fetter a good Christian, his Grace himself well knew the Book was never shewn him save for verbal Criticism when the Subject-matter was completedby the Makers of the same, and that he had warned his Grace not to express soe much Submission to the Pope. Whereupon they with great Displeasure dismissed him, and he took Boat forChelseawith mine Husband in such gay Spiritts, thatWill, not having been privy to what had passed, concluded his Name to have beene struck out of the Bill of Attainder, and congratulated him thereupon soe soone as they came aland, saying, "I guess,Father, all is well, seeing you thus merry."
"It is, indeed, sonRoper," returnsFathersteadilie; repeating thereupon, once or twice, this Phrase, "All is well."
Will, somehow mistrusting him, puts the Matter to him agayn.
"You are then,Father, put out of the Bill?"
"Out of the Bill, good Fellow?" repeatsFather, stopping short in his Walk, and regarding him with a Smile thatWillsayth was like to break his Heart.... "Wouldst thou know, dear Son, why I am so joyful? In good Faith, I havegiven the Devil a foul Fall; for I have with those Lords gone so far, as that without great Shame I can ne'er go back. The first Step,Will, is the worst, and that's taken."
And so, to the House, with never another Word,Willbeing smote at the Heart.
But, this Forenoon, deareWillcomes running in to me, with Joy all bright, and tells me he hath just heard fromCromwellthatFather'sName is in sooth struck out. Thereupon, we go together to him with the News. He taketh it thankfully, yet composedly, saying, as he lays his Hand on my Shoulder, "In faith,Meg,quod differtur non aufertur." Seeing me somewhat stricken and overborne, he sayth, "Come, let's leave goodWillawhile to the Company of his own select and profitable Thoughts, and take a Turn together by the Water Side."
Then closing his Book, which I marked wasPlato's Phædon, he steps forthe with me into the Garden, leaning on my Shoulder, and pretty heavilie too. After a Turn or two in Silence, he lightens his Pressure, and in a bland, peaceifying Tone commencesHoracehis tenth Ode, Book second, and goes through the first fourteen or fifteen Lines in a kind of lulling Monotone; then takes another Turn or two, ever looking at theThames; and in a stronger Voice begins his favourite
"Justum, ac tenacem Propositi VirumNon Civium Ardor," etc.
on to
"Impavidum ferient Ruinæ;"
—and lets go his Hold on me to extend his Hand in fine, free Action. Then, drawing me to him agayn, presentlie murmurs, "I reckon that the Sufferingsof this present Time are not worthy to be compared with the Glory which shall be revealed in us.... Oh no, not worthy to be compared. I have lived; I have laboured; I have loved. I have lived in them I loved; laboured for them I loved; loved them for whom I laboured; my Labour has not been in vayn. To love and to labour is the Sum of living, and yet how manie think they live who neither labour nor love! Agayn, how manie labour and love, and yet are not loved; but I have beene loved, and my Labour has not been in vayn. Now, the Daye is far spent, and the Night is at hand, and the Time draweth nigh when Man resteth from his Labours, even from his Labours of Love; but still he shall love and he shall live where the Spiritt sayth he shall rest from his Labours, andwhere his Works do follow him, for he entereth into Rest through and to Him who is Life, and Light, and Love."
Then looking steadfastlie at theThames, "How quietlie," sayth he, "it flows on! This River,Meg, hath its Origin from seven petty Springs somewhither amongst theGloucestershireHills, where they bubble forthe unnoted save by the Herd and Hind. Belike, they murmur over the Pebbles prettily enough; but a great River, mark you, never murmurs. It murmured and babbled too, 'tis like, whilst only a Brook, and brawled away as it widened and deepened and chafed agaynst Obstacles, and here and there got a Fall, and splashed and made much Ado, but ever kept running on towards its End, still deepening and widening; and now towards the Close of its Courselook you how swift and quiet it is, running mostly between Flats, and with the dear blue Heaven reflected in its Face." ...
1534, April 12.
'Twas o'Wednesdayewas a Week, we were quietly taking our Dinner, when, after a loud and violent Knocking at the outer Door, in cometh a Pursuivant, and summonethFatherto appear next Daye before the Commissioners, to take the newly-coined Oath of Supremacy.Motherutters a hasty Cry,Bessturns white as Death, but I, urged by I know not what suddain Impulse to con the new Comer's Visage narrowly, did with Eagerness exclaim, "Here's some Jest ofFather's; 'tis onlyDick Halliwell!"
In cometh a Pursuivant.
Whereupon,Fatherburst out a-laughing, huggedMother, calledBessa silly Puss, and gaveHalliwella Groat for's Payns. Now, while some were laughing, and others takingFatherprettie sharplie to Task for soe rough a Crank, I fell a muzing, what could be the Drift of this, and coulde only surmize it mighte be to harden us beforehand, as 'twere, to what was sure to come at last. And the Pre-apprehension of this soe belaboured my alreadie o'erburthened Spiritts, as that I was fayn to betake myself to the Nurserie, and lose all Thought and Reflection in my littleBess'sprettie Ways. And, this not answering, was forct to have Recourse to Prayer; then, leaving my Closett, was able to return to the Nurserie, and forget myselfe awhile in the Mirth of the Infants.
Hearing Voyces beneathe the Lattice, I lookt forthe, and behelde his Grace ofNorfolk(of late a strange Guest) walking beneath the Window in earnest Converse withFather; and, as they turned about, I hearde him say, "By theMass, MasterMore, 'tis perilous striving with Princes. I could wish you, as a Friend, to incline to theKing'sPleasure; forIndignatio Principis Mors est."
"Is that all?" saysFather; "why then there will be onlie this Difference between your Grace and me, that I shall die to-daye, and you to-morrow;"—which was the Sum of what I caught.
Next Morning, we were breaking our Fast with Peacefullnesse of Heart, on the Principle that sufficient for the Daye is the Evill thereof, and there had beene a wordy War between our two Factions of theNeriandBianchi,Besshaving defalked from the Mancheteers on the Ground that black Bread sweetened the Breath and settled the Teeth, to the no small Triumph of the Cob Loaf Party; whileDaisy, persevering at her Crusts, sayd,"No, I can cleave to the Rye Bread as steddilie as anie among you, but 'tis vayn ofFatherto maintain that it is as toothsome as a Manchet, or that I eat it to whiten my Teeth, for thereby he robs Self-deniall of its Grace."
Father, strange to say, seemed taken at Vantage, and was pausing for a Retort, whenHobsoncoming in and whispering Somewhat in his Ear, he rose suddainlie and went forthe of the Hall with him, putting his Head back agayn to say, "Rest ye alle awhile where ye be," which we did, uneasilie enow. Anon he returns, brushing his Cap, and says calmlie, "Now, let's forthe to Church," and clipsMother'sArm beneathe his owne and leads the Way. We follow as soon as we can; and I, listing to him more than to the Priest, did think I never hearde him make Response more composedlie,nor sing more lustilie, by the which I founde myself in stouter Heart. After Prayers, he is shriven, after which he saunters back with us to the House; then brisklie turning on his Heel, cries to my Husband, "Now,Will, let's toward, Lad," and claps the Wicket after him, leaving us at t'other Side without so much as casting back a parting Look. Though he evermore had beene avised to let us companie him to the Boat, and there kiss him once and agayn or ever he went, I know not that I should have thoughte much of this, had notDaisy, looking after him keenly, exclaymed somewhat shortlie as she turned in Doors, "I wish I had not uttered that Quip about the Cob-loaf."
Oh, how heavilie sped the Day! The House, too big now for its Master's diminished Retinue, had yet never hithertoseemed lonesome; but now a Somewhat of drearie and dreadfull, inexpressible in Words, invisible to the Eye, but apprehended by the inner Sense, filled the blank Space alle about. For the first Time, everie one seemed idle; not only disinclined for Businesse, but as though there were Something unseemlie in addressing one's Self to it. There was nothing to cry about, nothing to talk over, and yet we alle stoode agaze at each other in Groups, like the Cattle under the Trees when a Storm is at hand.Mercywas the first to start off. I held her back and said, "What is to do?" She whispered, "Pray." I let her Arm drop, butBessat that Instant comes up with Cheeks as colourless as Parchment. She sayth, "'Tis made out now. A Pursuivantde Factofetched him forthe this Morning." We gave one deep, universal Sigh;Mercybroke away, and I after her, to seek the same Remedy, but alack, in vayn....
15th.