Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century

to be so, for that she had never received amore foolish letter; and she did pity the old white horse, which wasnow only fit to be turned out to grass;' and other biting jests,which, when a sovereign doth utter them, carry with them a rarepoignancy."

  Then my Lady Lumley wiped her eyes, and bade me to be of good cheer,and not to grieve overmuch for Lady Surrey's troubles (but all thewhile her own tears continued to flow), for that she had so noble andreligious a disposition, with germs of so much virtue in it, that shethought her to be one of those souls whom Almighty God draws tohimself by means of such trials as would sink common natures; and thatshe had already marked how, in much prayer, ever-increasing goodworks, and reading of books which treat of wholesome doctrine andinstruction, she presently recalled the teachings of her childhood,and took occasion, when any Catholics came to the house, to conversewith them touching religion. Then, with many kind expressions, shedismissed me; and on the stairs, as I went out, I met LadySurrey, who noticed mine eyes to be red with weeping, and, embracingme, said:

  "I ween Lady Lumley hath been no hider of my griefs, good Constance,and, i' faith, I am obliged to her if she hath told thee that which Iwould fain not speak of, even to thee, dear wench. There are sorrowsbest borne in silence; and since the last days we talked together minehave grown to be of that sort. And so farewell for to-day, and may Godcomfort thee in thy nobler troubles, and send his angels to thineaid."

  When I returned to Holborn, Mistress Ward met me with the news thatshe had been to the prison, and heard that Mr. Watson was to bestrenuously examined on an approaching day--and it is well known whatthat doth signify--touching the names of the persons which hadharbored him since his coming to England. And albeit he was nowpurposed steadily to endure extreme torments sooner than to deny hisfaith or injure others, she did so much apprehend the weakness ofnature should betray him, that her resolve was taken to attempt thenext day, or rather on the following night, to further his escape. Buthow, she asked, could my father be dealt with in time touching thatmatter? I told her I was to see him on the morrow, by means of anorder from Sir Francis Walsingham, and should then lay before him theissues offered unto his election. She said she was very much contentedto hear it; and added, she must now secure boatmen to assist in theescape who should be reliable Catholic men; and if in this she didsucceed, she feared not to fail in her design.

  At the hour I had fixed upon with Hubert, on the next day, he came tocarry me to the prison at Bridewell. Mistress Ward prevailed on Mr.Congleton to go thither with us, for she was loth to be seen there incompany with known persons, and added privily in mine ear, "The moreso at a time when it may happen I should get into trouble touching thematter I have in hand." When we reached the place, Hubert presented tothe gaoler Sir Francis's letter, which was also signed by thegovernor, and I was forthwith conducted to my father's cell. When Ientered it, and advanced toward that dear prisoner, I dared not in theman's presence to show either the joy or grief I felt at that meeting,but stood by his side like one deprived of the power of speech, andonly struggling to restrain my tears. I feared we should not have beenleft alone, and then this interview should have proved of little useor comfort; but after setting for me a chair, which he had sentfor--for there was only one small bench in the cell--this officerwithdrew, and locked the door on me and that dear parent, whose facewas very white and wan, but who spoke in as cheerful and kind a manneras can be thought of, albeit taxing me with wilfulness for that I hadnot complied with his behest that none should come to visit him. Iwould not have the chair which had been sent for me--for I did holdit to be an unbecoming thing for a daughter to sit down in herfather's presence (and he a priest), who had only a poor bench to resthis limbs on--but placed myself on the ground at his feet; which atfirst he misliked, but afterward said it should be as I pleased. Then,after some affectionate speeches, wherein his great goodness toward mewas shown, and my answers to them, which disburthened my heart of someof the weight which oppressed it, as did likewise the shedding of afew tears on his hand, which was clasped in mine, I spoke, in casetime should press, of Sir Francis's offer, and the condition thereuntoattached, which I did with a trembling voice, and yet such indifferenttones as I could affect, as if showing no leaning to one way ofthinking or the other, touching his acceptance of these terms. In thebrief time which did elapse between my speaking and his reply,methinks I had an equal fear lest he should assent or dissenttherein--filial love mightfully prompting me to desire his acceptanceof this means of deliverance, yet coupled with an apprehension that inthat case he should stand one degree less high in the favor of God andthe eyes of men. But I was angered with myself that I should have mineown thoughts therein, or in any way form a judgment forestalling his,which peradventure would see no evil in this concession; andforecasting also the consequences which should ensue if he refused, Iresolved to move him thereunto by some such words as these: "My dearlybeloved father, if it be possible, I pray you yield this small matterto those that seek to save your life. Let the minister come to satisfySir Francis, and all shall be well, yea, without your speaking oneword, or by so much as one look assenting to his arguments."

  I dared not to meet his eyes, which he fixed on me, but kept kissinghis hand whilst he said: "Daughter Constance, labor not to move me inthis matter; for far above all other things I may have to suffer,nothing would touch me so near, or be so grievous to me, as to seeyou, my well-beloved child, try to persuade me unto that which inrespect of my soul I will never consent to. For, I pray you, first asregards religion, can I suffer any to think, albeit I should give nocause for it but silence, that my faith is in any wise shaken, whichperadventure would prove a stumbling-block to others? or, touchingtruth and honesty, shall I accept life and freedom on some suchsupposition as that I am like to change my religion, when I should assoon think to cast myself into hell of mine own free will as to denyone point of Catholic belief? No, no, mine own good child; 'tis anarrow path which doth lead to heaven, and maybe it shall proveexceeding narrow for me ere I reach its end, and not over easy to thefeet or pleasant to the eye; but God defend I should by so much as onehair's-breadth overpass a narrowness which tendeth to so good aconclusion; and verily, to be short, my good child, tender my thanksto Sir Francis Walsingham--who I doubt not meaneth excellently well byme--and to young Master Rookwood, who hath dealt with him therein;but tell them I am very well pleased with my present abode as long asit shall please God to keep me in this world; and when he willeth meto leave it, believe me, daughter Constance, the quickest road toheaven shall be the most pleasing to me."

  His manner was so resolved that I urged him no further, and onlyheaved a deep sigh. Then he said, kindly: "Come, mine own good child,give me so much comfort as to let me hear that thou art of the sameway of thinking in this matter as thy unworthy but very resolvedfather."

  "My dear father," I replied, "methinks I never loved you so well, orhonored you one half so much as now, when you have cast off all humanconsolation, yea, and a certain hope of deliverance, rather than giveoccasion to the enemies of our faith to boast they had prevailed onyou, in ever so small a matter, to falter in the open professionthereof; and I pray God, if ever I should be in a like plight, I maynot prove myself to be otherwise than your true child in spirit as innature. As to what shall now follow your refusal, it lieth in God'shands, and I know he can deliver you, if he doth will it, from thisgreat peril you are in."

  "There's my brave wench," quoth he then, laying his scarred hand on myhead; "thy mother had a prophetic spirit, I ween, when she said ofthee when yet a puling girl, 'As her days, so shall her strength be.'Verily God is very good, who hath granted us these moments of peacefulconverse in a place where we had once little thought for to meet."

  As I looked upon him, sitting on a poor bench in that comfortlesscell, his noble fair visage oldened by hardships and toils rather thanyears, his eyes so full of peace, yea of contentment, that joyseemed to beam in them, I thought of the words of Holy Writ, which doforetell which shall be said hereafter of th
e just by such as haveafflicted them and taken away their labors: "There are they whom wehad some time in derision and for a parable of reproach. We foolsesteemed their life madness and their end without honor. Behold, howthey are numbered with the children of God, and their lot amongst thesaints."

  At that time a knock against the wall was heard, and my father set hisear against it, counting the number of such knocks; for it was Mr.Watson, he said, beginning to converse with him in their wontedfashion. "I will tell him I am engaged," quoth he, in his turn tappingin the same manner. "But peradventure he hath somewhat tocommunicate," I said.

  "No," he answered, "for in that case he would have knocked three timesat first, for on this signal we have agreed." Smiling, he added, "Wedo confess to each