Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century
from that windowshall be seen? Hark to that noise! Look out, I pray you, and tell mewhat it is."
He did as I bade him, and I marked the shudder he gave. His face, palebefore, had now turned of an ashy hue.
"Is it possible?" he said; "a scaffold in front of that house where wewere wont to meet those old friends! O Constance, are they there todie?--that brave joyous old man, that kind pious soul his wife?"
"Yea," I answered; "and likewise the friend of my young years, goodholy Edmund Genings, who never did hurt a fly, much less a humancreature. And at Tyburn, Bryan Lacy, my cousin, once your friend, andSydney Hodgson, and good Mr. Mason, are to suffer."
Hubert clenched his hands, ground his teeth, and a terrible look shotthrough his eyes. I felt affrighted at the passion my words hadawakened.
"Cursed," he cried, in a hoarse voice,--"cursed be the bloody queenwhich reigneth in this land! Thrice accursed be the tyrants which huntus to death! Tenfold accursed such as lure us to damnation by the foulbaits they do offer to tempt a man to lie to God and to others, toruin those he loves, to become loathsome to himself by his meancrimes! But if one hath been cheated of his soul, robbed of the hopeof heaven, debarred from his religion, thrust into the company ofdevils, let them fear him, yea, let them fear him, I say. Revenge isnot impossible. What shall stay the hand of such a man? Whatshall guard those impious tempters if many such should one day leaguefor to sweep them from earth's face? If one be desperate of thisworld's life, he becomes terrible. How should he be to be dreaded whodoth despair of heaven!"
With these wild words, he left me. He was gone ere I could speak.
CHAPTER XXVI.
On the night before the 10th of December neither Muriel nor I retiredto rest. We sat together by the rush-light, at one time sayingprayers, at another speaking together in a low voice. Ever and anonshe went to listen at her father's door, for to make sure he slept,and then returned to me. The hours seemed to pass slowly; and yet weshould have wished to stay their course, so much we dreaded the firstrays of light presaging the tragedy of the coming day. Before thefirst token of it did show, at about five in the morning, thedoor-bell rung in a gentle manner.
"Who can be ringing?" I said to Muriel.
"I will go and see," she answered.
But I restrained her, and went, to call one of the servants, who werebeginning to bestir themselves. The man went down, and returned,bringing me a paper, on which these words were written:
"MY DEAR CONSTANCE--My lord and myself have secretly come to join ourprayers with yours, and, if it should be possible, to receive theblessing of the holy priest who is about to die, as he passeth by yourhouse, toward which, I doubt not, his eyes will of a surety turn. Ipray you, therefore, admit us."
I hurried down the stairs, and found Lord and Lady Arundel standing inthe hall; she in a cloak and hood, and he with a slouching hat hidinghis face. Leading them both into the parlor, which looketh on thestreet, I had a fire hastily kindled; and for a space her ladyship andmyself could only sit holding each other's hands, our hearts being toofull to speak. After a while I asked her when she had come to London.She said she had done so very secretly, not to increase the queen'sdispleasure against her husband; her majesty's misliking of herselfcontinuing as great as ever.
"When she visited my lord last year, before his arrest," quoth she,"on a pane of glass in the dining-room her grace perceived a distich,writ by me in bygone days with a diamond, and which expressed hopes ofbetter fortunes."
"I mind it well," I replied. "Did it not run thus?
'Not seldom doth the sun sink down In brightest light Which rose at early dawn disfigured quite outright; So shall my fortunes, wrapt so long in darkest night, Revive, and show ere long an aspect clear and bright.'"
"Yea," she answered. "And now listen to what her majesty, calling fora like instrument, wrote beneath:
'Not seldom do vain hopes deceive a silly heart Let all each witless dreams now vanish and depart; For fortune shall ne'er shine, I promise thee, on one Whose folly hath for aye all hopes thereof undone.'
"We do live," she added, "with a sword hanging over our heads; and itis meet we should come here this day to learn a lesson how to die whena like fate shall overtake us. But thou hast been like to die byanother means, my good Constance," her ladyship said, looking withkindness but no astonishment on my swollen and disfigured face, whichI had not remembered to conceal; grave thoughts, then uppermost,having caused me to forget it.
"My life," I answered, "God hath mercifully spared; but I have lostthe semblance of my former self."
"Tut, tut!" she replied, "only for a time."
And then we both drew near unto the fire, for we were shivering withcold. Lord Arundel leant against the chimney, and watched thetimepiece.
"Mistress Wells," he said, "is like, I hear, to be reprieved at thelast moment."
"Alas!" I cried, "nature therein finds relief; yet I know not how muchto rejoice or yet to grieve thereat. For surely she will desire to diewith her husband. And of what good will life be to her if, like someothers, she doth linger for years in prison?"
"Of much good, if God wills her there to spend those years," Murielgently said; which words, I ween, were called to mind long afterwardby one who then heard them.
As the hour appointed for the execution approached, we became silentagain, and kneeling down betook ourselves to prayer. At eight o'clocka crowd began to assemble in the street; and the sound of their feetas they passed under the window, hurrying toward the scaffold, whichwas hung with black cloth, became audible. About an hour afterwardnotice was given to us by one of the servants that the sledge whichcarried the prisoners was in sight. We rose from our knees and went tothe window. Mr. Wells's stout form and Mr. Genings's slight figurewere then discernible, as they sat bound, with their hands tied behindtheir backs. I observed that Mr. Wells smiled and nodded to some onewho was standing amidst the crowd. This person, who was a friend ofhis, hath since told me that as he passed he saluted him with thesewords: "Farewell, dear companion! farewell, all hunting and hawkingand old pastimes! I am now going a better way." Mistress Wells notbeing with them, we perceived that to be true which Lord Arundel hadheard. At that moment I turned round, and missed Muriel, who had beenstanding close behind me. I supposed she could not endure this sight;but, lo and behold, looking again into the street, I saw her threadingher way amongst the crowd as swiftly, lame though she was, as if anangel had guided her. When she reached the foot of the scaffold, andtook her stand there, her aspect was so composed, serene, andresolved, that she seemed like an inhabitant of another world suddenlydescended amidst the coarse and brutal mob. She was resolved, Iafterward found, to take note of every act, gesture, and word therespoken; and by her means I can here set down what mine own ears heardnot, but much of which mine own eyes beheld. As the sledge passed ourdoor, Mr. Genings, as Lady Arundel had foreseen, turned his headtoward us; and seeing me at the window, gave us, I doubt not, hisblessing; for, albeit he could not raise his chained hand, we saw hisfingers and his lips move. On reaching the gibbet Muriel heard him cryout with holy Andrew, "O good gibbet, long desired and now preparedfor me, much hath my heart desired thee; and now, joyful and secure, Icome to thee. Receive me, I beseech thee, as the disciple of him thatsuffered on the cross!" Being put upon the ladder, many questions wereasked him by some standersby, to which he made clear and distinctanswers. Then Mr. Topcliffe cried out with a loud voice,
"Genings, Genings, confess thy fault, thy papist treason; and thequeen, no doubt, will grant thee pardon!"
To which he mildly answered, "I know not, Mr. Topcliffe, in what Ihave offended my dear anointed princess; if I have offended her or anyother person in anything, I would willingly ask her and all the worldforgiveness. If she be offended with me without a cause, forprofessing my faith and religion, or because I am a priest, or becauseI will not turn minister against my conscience, I shall be, I trust,excused and innocent before God. 'We must obey God,' saith St. Peter,'rather than men;' and I mus
t not in this case acknowledge a faultwhere there is none. If to return to England a priest, or to say mass,is popish treason, I here do confess I am a traitor. But I think notso; and therefore I acknowledge myself guilty of these things not withrepentance and sorrow of heart, but with an open protestation ofinward joy that I have done so good deeds, which, if they were to doagain, I would, by the permission and assistance of God, accomplishthe same, though with the hazard of a thousand lives."
Mr. Topcliffe was very angry at this speech, and hardly gave him timeto say an "Our Father" before he ordered the hangman to turn theladder. From that moment I could not so much as once again look towardthe scaffold. Lady Arundel and I drew back into the