Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century

my thoughts,that I asked Lady Tregony, by whose side I was sitting, if she wasacquainted with him, and if his virtue was as great as his appearancewas noble. She smiled, and answered that his appearance, albeithonorable and comely, was not one half so honorable as his life hadbeen, or so comely as his mind. That he had been the husband of SirThomas More's never-to-be-forgotten daughter, Margaret, whose memoryhe so reverently did cherish that he had never so much as thought of asecond marriage; and of late years, since he had resigned the officeof sub-notary in the Queen's Bench to his son, he did give his wholesubstance and his time to the service of the poor, and especially toprisoners, by reason of which he was called the staff of thesorrowful, and sure refuge of the afflicted. Now, then, I looked onthe face of this good aged man with a deeper reverence thanheretofore. Now I longed to be favored with so much of hisnotice as one passing word. Now I watched for an opportunity tocompass my desire, and I thank God not without effect; for I do countit as a chief blessing to have been honored, during the remainingyears of this virtuous gentleman's life, with so much of hiscondescending goodness, that if the word friendship may be used inregard to such affectionate feelings as can exist between one vergingon four-score years of age and of such exalted merit, and a foolishcreature yet in her teens, whom he honored with his notice, it shouldbe so in this instance; wherein on the one side a singular reverenceand humble great affection did arise almost on first acquaintance, andon the other so much benignity and goodness shown in the pains takento cultivate such good dispositions as had been implanted in thisyoung person's heart by careful parents, and to guard her mind againstthe evils of the times, that nothing could be greater.

  Mr. Roper chancing to come near us, Lady Tregony said somewhat, whichcaused him to address me in this wise:

  "And are there, then, maidens in these days not averse to the sight ofgray hairs, and who mislike not to converse with aged men?"

  This was said with so kindly a smile that timidity vanished, andconfidence took its place.

  "Oh, sir," I cried, "when I was not so much as five years old, my goodfather showed me a picture of Sir Thomas More, and told me he was aman of such angelic wit as England never had the like before, nor isever like to have again, and of a most famous and holy memory; andmethinks, sir, that you, being his son-in-law, who knew his doings andhis mind so well, and lived so long in his house, must needs in manythings resemble him."

  "As to his doings and his mind," Mr. Roper replied, "no man livingknoweth them so well, and if my mean wit, memory, and knowledge couldserve me now, could declare so much thereof. But touching resemblance,alas! there was but one in all the world that represented the likenessof his virtues and perfections; one whom he loved in a particularmanner, and who was worthiest of that love more than any creature Godhas made."

  Here the good man's voice faltered a little, and he made a stop in hisdiscourse; but in a little while said that he had thought it behovedhim to set down in writing such matters concerning Sir Thomas's lifeas he could then call to remembrance, and that he would lend me themanuscript to read, which I did esteem an exceeding great favor, andone I could not sufficiently thank him for. Then he spoke somewhat ofthe times, which were waxing every day more troublesome, and told mehe often called to mind a conversation he once had with Sir Thomas,walking along the side of the Thames at Chelsea, which he related inthese words:

  "'Now would to God, my son Roper,' quoth Sir Thomas, 'I were put in asack, and presently cast into the Thames, upon condition that threethings were well established throughout Christendom.' 'And what mightythings are those, sir?' I asked. Whereupon he: 'Wouldst thou know, sonRoper, what they be?' 'Yea, marry, sir, with a good will, if it pleaseyou,' quoth I. 'I' faith, son, they be these,' he said: 'The first isthat, whereas the most part of Christian princes are at mortal wars,they were all at peace; the second that, whereas the church of Christis at present sorely afflicted with so many heresies, it were settledin perfect uniformity of religion; the third that, where the matter ofthe king's marriage is now come in question, it were, to the glory ofGod and the quietness of all parties, brought to a good conclusion.''Ay, sir,' quoth I, 'those were indeed three things greatly to bedesired; but'--I continued with a certain joy--'where shall one see ahappier state than in this realm, that has so Catholic a prince thatno heretic durst show his face; so virtuous and learned aclergy; so grave and sound a nobility; and so loving, obedientsubjects, all in one faith agreeing together?' 'Truth it is indeed,son Roper,' quoth he; and in all degrees and estates of the same wentfar beyond me in commendation thereof. 'And yet, son Roper, I prayGod,' said he, 'that some of us, as high as we seem to sit on themountains, treading heretics under our feet like ants, live not theday that we would gladly be at league and composition with them, tolet them have their churches quietly to themselves, so that they wouldbe contented to let us have ours quietly to ourselves.' After I hadtold him many considerations why he had no cause to say so: 'Well,'said he, 'I pray God, son Roper, some of us will live not to see thatday.' To whom I replied: 'By my troth, sir, it is very desperatelyspoken.' These vile terms, I cry God mercy, did I give him, who,perceiving me to be in a passion, said merrily unto me, 'It shall notbe so; it shall not be so.' In sixteen years and more, being in thehouse conversing with him, I could not perceive him to be so much asonce out of temper."

  This was the first of many conversations I held, during the years Ilived in Holborn, with this worthy gentleman, who was not more pleasedto relate, than I to hear, sundry anecdotes concerning Sir ThomasMore, his house, and his family.

  Before he left me that day, I did make bold to ask him if he fearednot ill consequences from the courageous words he had used in a mixed,yea rather, with few exceptions, wholly adverse, company.

  "Not much," he answered. "Mine age; the knowledge that there are thosewho would not willingly see me roughly handled, and have power toprevent it; and withal no great concern, if it should be so, to havemy liberty constrained, yea, my life shortened by a few years, orrather days,--doth move me to a greater freedom of speech than maygenerally be used, and a notable indifference to the results of suchfreedom."

  Having whispered the like fears I had expressed to him to LadyTregony, she did assure me his confidence was well based, and that hehad connexions which would by no means suffer him to be thrown intoprison, which should be the fate of any one else in that room who hadspoken but one half, yea one tenth part, as boldly as he had venturedon.

  CHAPTER XII.

  It was some time before I could restore myself to my countenance,after so much moving discourse, so as to join with spirit in thesports and the dancing which did ensue among the young people thatevening. But sober thoughts and painful themes after a while gaveplace to merriment; and the sound of music, gay tattle, and cheerfulsteps lured me to such enjoyment as youth is wont to take in thesekinds of pastimes. It was too much my wont to pursue with eagernessthe present humor, and drink deeply of innocent pleasure wherein noharm should exist if enjoyed with moderation. But like in a horse onwhose neck the bridle is cast, what began in a gentle ambling ends inwild gallopping; so lawful merriment, if unrestrained, often ends inwhat is unbeseeming, and in some sort blameable. So this time, whendancing tired, a ring was formed for conversation, and the choice ofthe night's pastime yielded to my discretion; alack, rather to myimprudence and folly, methinks I might style it. I chose thatarguments should be held by two persons of the company, turn by turn,and that a judge should be named to allot a reward to the worthiest,and a penance to the worst. This liked them all exceedingly, and byone consent they appointed me to be judge, and to summon such asshould dispute. There were there two young gentlemen whichhaunted our house, and Lady Ingoldby's also. One was Martin Tregony,Lady Tregony's nephew, an ill-favored young man, with manners worsethan his face, and so apish and foppish in his dress and behavior,that no young woman could abide him, much less would receive hisaddresses, or if she did entertain him in conversation, it was to makesport of his so great conceit. He had an ill-natured kind of w
it, moresharp than keen, more biting than sarcastic. He studied the art ofgiving pain, and oftentimes did cause shamefaced merit to blush. Theother was Mr. Thomas Sherwood, who, albeit not very near in blood tomy father, was, howsoever, of the same family as ourselves. He hadbeen to the English College in Douay, and had brought me tidings ashort time back of my father and Edmund Genings' safe arrival thither,and afterward came often to see us, and much frequented Lady Tregony'shouse. He had exceedingly good parts, but was somewhat diffident andbashful. Martin Tregony was wont to make him a mark, as it were, ofhis ill-natured wit, and did fancy himself to be greatly his superiorin sharpness, partly because Mr. Sherwood's disposition was retiring,and