Emily Sarah Holt

“ Dame Lovell was busy in the kitchen, as she was when we first saw her, and so were Mistress Katherine and the handmaidens; but Dame Lovell now wore the white weeds of widowhood, and her face was thinner and much graver. Richard Pynson on his return from London, had brought her the terrible news of Margery’s death; and Dame Lovell, in the midst of her sorrow, which was very deep, had solemnly affirmed that no power on earth should ever induce her to pardon her son-in-law for the part which he had taken in the matter. ”

“ Arundel, with a muttered curse upon all evil teaching, took the book from Lord Marnell with his hand folded in the corner of his gown, as if he thought its very touch would communicate pollution, and flung it into the fire. The fire was a large one, and in a minute the volume was consumed. Margery watched the destruction of her treasure with swimming eyes.
“Burn, poor book!” she said, falteringly, “and as thy smoke goeth up to God, leave it tell Him that the reading and the loving of His Word is accounted a sin by those who ought to be His pastors.”
“Woman, wilt not hear the truth?” ”

“ She read on. “I am weye, treuthe, and lyf; no man cometh to the Fadir but by me.” (John xiv. 6.) Were these words the words of Christ? And what way had Margery been taught? Obedience to the Church, humility, penances, alms-giving—works always, Christ never. Could these be the right way? She went on, till the tears ran down her cheeks like rain—till her heart throbbed and her soul glowed with feelings she had never felt before—till the world, and life, and death, and things present, all seemed to be nothing, and Christ alone seemed to be everything. ”

“ Occasionally a lady of rank would ride past in her litter, drawn by horses whose trappings swept the ground; or a knight, followed by a crowd of retainers, would prance by on his high-mettled charger. Margery spent the happiest day which she had passed since her marriage, in wandering about London, and satisfying her girlish curiosity concerning every place of which she had ever heard. Lord Marnell frowned when Margery confessed, on her return, that she had been out to see London. ”

“ You come straightway from Lovell Tower? My father and mother be well? And Mistress Katherine, and Cicely, and all the maidens? And Lyard, and old Beaudesert? (naming her palfrey and the watchdog) . And all mine old friends—Sir Ralph Marston, and Master Carew?”
Richard smiled a grave, almost mournful smile.
“You ask too many questions, good my Lady, to be answered in a breath. But Dame Lovell is in health, and greets you well by me, bidding you be assured ever of her love and blessing.” ”

“ Come Sunday, by God’s mercy—not by mine own good, which God witteth is but evil—I shall stand with the angels before Christ His throne. Haste, haste, dear good day that shall deliver me! And God give you to know Christ, and send us a happy meeting in that His blessed habitation, unto the great gladding of your most loving and dutiful daughter, Margery Marnell. ”

“ I grieve much, fair sister, to hear from my fair brother that you have allied yourself unto those evil men which be known by the name of Lollards.”
“I cry you mercy, holy mother,” answered Margery, quietly, “I have allied myself unto no man. I know not a Lollard in the realm. Only I read that book—and that book, as you must needs wit, holy mother, containeth the words of the Lord Jesu. ”

“ When Lord Marnell had assisted his wife back into her dungeon, and laid her gently on the bed, he turned and shook his fist at the wall.
“If I, Ralph Marnell of Lymington, had thee here, Abbot Thomas Bilson—”
“Thou wouldst forgive him, my good Lord,” faintly said Margery.
“Who? I? Forgive him? What a woman art thou, Madge! Nay—by the bones of Saint Matthew, I would break every bone in his body! Forsooth, Madge, those knaves the Archbishop and the Abbot have played me a scurvy trick, and gone many times further than I looked for, when I called them into this business. ”

“ Richard Pynson, long before this, had mooted the question of his return to his father, but Dame Lovell would not hear of it. He reminded her smilingly that she needed no squire; but she came and put both her hands on his shoulders, and made him look her in the face.
“Thou sayest sooth, Richard, that I need no squire, but I trow I need a son. I am an old lone woman, and shall not keep thee long; and I have loved thee as if I had been thine own mother. Promise me, mine own dear lad, that thou wilt not go hence while I live.” ”

“ Margery glanced at the heavy gold chain round the Prioress’s neck, the multifarious rings on her fingers, and the costly jewels in her girdle, and rather doubted her testimony as to the utter absence of vanity in a veiled nun; but she contented herself with saying, “I trow, holy mother, that ye carry with you evil hearts into your cloister, as have all men without; and an evil heart within, and the devil without, need not outward matters whereon to form temptation. ”

“ Trust me, if His heart be set on thee, He will either have thy heart away from it by thy good will, or will have it away from thy heart by bitter rending and sorrow. And alas for that man who hath no portion in Christ His heart!”
Richard answered almost in a whisper, and bent forward to take Margery’s hand as he did so. The spell was fully broken now.
“There was only one thing, and He hath taken it. Margery, I loved you. I had given readily all else but you. And I trow you will count it but a sorry (poor, unworthy) giving, wherein the heart goeth not with the hands.” ”

“ On the evening of that day, Dame Lovell sat at work in the wide chimney-corner of the hall. Near her was Mistress Katherine, scraping almonds into a bowl; while Margery, occupied with her distaff, sat at a little distance. On a wide oaken settle on the opposite side of the fire lay Friar Andrew, taking a nap, as was his afternoon custom; while on another settle drawn up before the fire, Sir Geoffrey and Richard Pynson sat conversing with the ladies.
“Madge, lass, hast finished thy Breviary?” asked Sir Geoffrey. “An thou hast, I would see it.” ”

“ Sir Geoffrey would speak with you. Come in quickly, I pray you, and leave the handmaidens to help Mistress Margery from her pillion.”
“I need no help, good mother,” said Margery, as she sprang lightly from her seat, while Richard hurried into the house to find Sir Geoffrey.
“Sir Geoffrey would send Richard Pynson to Marston,” said Dame Lovell, as she preceded Margery into the hall. “And how liked you Master Sastre, Madge?”
“Very greatly, good mother; never heard I before a homily so brave.” ”

“ By the light of the moon might be discerned a man in traveller’s dress, walking slowly along Fleet Street, and looking up at the houses, as if uncertain which of them would prove the one he sought. The traveller, though he looks much older, and his face wears a weary, worn expression, we recognise as our old friend Richard Pynson. ”

“ I must see that book Master Pynson!”
“Softly, I pray you, good Mistress Margery,” answered Richard, smiling; “it were well to go warily to work; for wot you not that Master Wycliffe—ay, and Master Sastre too—be accounted heretics by some? You would not, trow, fall under the ban of Holy Church?”
“I would with a good will do aught, or bear aught,” replied Margery, earnestly, “so I might wit of a surety that I should be one of those who wear the white apparel, and cry, ‘The Lamb is worthy’ in the city of God!” ”

“ Margery sighed at this curtailment of her liberty, and withdrew to see where Alice was putting her dresses.
As it was approaching evening, Lord Marnell’s voice called her downstairs.
“If thou wilt see a sight, Madge,” he said, good-naturedly, as she entered, “come quickly, and one will gladden thine eyes which never sawest thou before. The King rideth presently from the Savoy to the Tower.” ”

“ Margery, who had looked for the great man from London with girlish curiosity, suddenly felt an unconquerable and causeless dislike to him swell up in her heart, a something which she could neither define nor account for, that made her wish to avoid sitting near him, and turn her eyes away whenever his were directed towards her. ”

“ The Abbot and the sheriff were extremely annoyed, but they did not dare to silence her, for the multitude hung breathlessly on her words.
“There’s none so much harm in that, any way!” said a woman who stood near Richard Pynson.
“Wilt thou confess, sinful heretic?” asked the Abbot.
“To God I will and have done,” answered Margery; “to man I will not.”
There was a short pause, while the sheriff’s men, under his direction, heaped the wood in the position most favourable for burning quickly. Then the sheriff read the indictment in a loud voice. ”

“ And so saying, Dame Lovell bustled downstairs as quickly as her corpulence would allow her, and Margery followed, a few minutes later. While the former was busy in the hall, ordering fresh rushes to be spread, and the tables set, Margery repaired to the ample kitchen, where, summoning the maids to assist her, and tying a large coarse apron round her, she proceeded to concoct various dishes, reckoned at that time particularly choice. There are few books more curious than a cookery-book five hundred years old. ”

“ And I ween they will carry it on to the end.”
“The end?” said Richard, tremblingly,—for he guessed what that meant, and the idea of Margery being subjected to a long and comfortless imprisonment, was almost more than he could bear. His own utter powerlessness to save her was a bitter draught to drink.
“Ay, the end!” she said, with the light spreading all over her face. “Mind you not how Master Sastre asked us if we could sue the Lamb along the weary and bitter road? Is it an evil thing to sue the Lamb, though He lead over a few rugged stones which be lying in the path? ”

“ Madge, wentest not thou thereto?”
“Ay, good father, I went with Master Pynson.”
“Ah!” said Sir Ralph. “I went not, for the which I now grieve, the more as my good cousin telleth me that Master Sastre is accounted a great one by some—but these seem not of the best.”
“Misconceive me not, fair cousin,” said Lord Marnell. “It is only the Lollards that think well of the man, and thou wottest that Holy Church looketh not kindly on their evil doings. That ill priest, John Wycliffe, who is accounted their leader, hath done more hurt to the faith than any heretic these many years.” ”

“ I was dreaming of a kettle of furmety of Madge’s making.”
“I trow here is a pretty kettle of furmety of Madge’s making!” was the irate response.
“I conceive you not, good master,” said the friar. “The book is a good book enough, trow.”
“Thou art an ass!” was the civil answer. “Seest thou not that it is the translation of Scripture whereof the Lord Marnell spake, by Master John Wycliffe, the Lollard priest? Mindest thou not that which he said about Lollards?”
“An what if it be?” said the confessor, yawning. “I pin not my faith on my Lord Marnell’s sleeve, though it were made of slashed velvet. ”

“ The morning on which Master Sastre was to deliver his homily was one of those delicious spring days which seem the immediate harbingers of summer. Margery, in her black dress, and with a warm hood over her côte-hardie, was assisted by her father to mount her pillion, Richard Pynson being already seated before her on the grey palfrey; for in the days of pillions, if the gentleman assisted the lady on her pillion before he mounted himself, he ran imminent risk of knocking her off when he should attempt to mount. ”

“ Margery entered the kitchen with a noiseless step, and making a low courtesy to her mother, said, in a remarkably clear, silvery voice, “It pleased you to send for me, good mother.”
“Yea, lass; give a hand to the blanch-porre, for Al’ce knows no more than my shoe; and then see to the grewall, whilst I scrape these almonds for the almond butter.” ”

“ That afternoon, as Margery sat in her bower, she was informed that the Prioress of Kennington was in the oaken chamber. Margery went down to her, holding Geoffrey by the hand, and found her seated on a settle, apparently preferring this more ancient form of seat to a chair; and wearing her veil low over her face. The Prioress rose when Lady Marnell entered, and threw back her heavy black veil, as she advanced to greet her. Margery returned her salutation courteously, and then tried to induce Geoffrey to go to his aunt—but Geoffrey hung back and would not go. ”

“ In the evening, as previously ordered, Margery quitted Marnell Place in her litter for her prison in the Tower. The jailer stared at her, as Abbot Bilson, who accompanied her, gave her into his charge, and whisperingly asked the reason for which she was to be incarcerated.
“Heresy, good friend.”
“Heresy!” said the jailer, staring more than ever. “What pity for one so marvellous young! Poor lady! ”

“ And believe me, that if thou art called unto my fiery ordeal, Christ will give thee grace and strength equal unto thy need. It is not much for them who love Christ, if they see Him stand beyond a little fire, to pluck up heart and go through the fire to Him. ”

“ Margery seemed better shortly, and Master Simon, for such was the doctor’s name, repaired at once to the council charged with the examination of prisoners accused of heresy, and told them that their State prisoner, the Lady Marnell, was very ill in her dungeon, and would not be able to appear before them for at least some weeks to come. Arundel, who presided, only laughed. The doctor insisted.
“Why,” said be, “the poor lady is sickening for a fever; let her alone: how can a woman light-headed answer questions upon doctrine and heresy?” ”

“ Find they any favour in the Court?”
“They be ever increasing,” said Lord Marnell “so much so that the King’s council have seen good to prepare some orders against them—forbidding of their assemblages, and such like—for to present unto the Parliament. These orders provide, as my good friend holy Abbot Bilson did tell me, that all convicted to be Lollards shall suffer close prison, for longer or shorter time, as pleaseth the King’s Grace. I trow they find not favour at Court with many, but the few that look well on them be unhaply of the highest. ”

“ What folk must they be that live in London town! Marry, Sir Ralph sent word by Richard Pynson, praying us not to dine until one of the clock, for that the Lord Marnell is not used to it at an earlier hour. I marvel when they sup! I trow it is not until all Christian folk be a-bed!”
“Dwells the Lord Marnell in London?” inquired Margery, with surprise; for Margery was more astonished and interested to hear of a nobleman from London dining with her parents than a modern young lady would be if told that a Chinese mandarin was expected. ”

“ Among this busy throng moved Dame Lovell, now giving a stir to a pot, and now peeping into a pan, boxing the ears of any maiden who appeared remiss in her duty, and generally keeping up a strict and active supervision.
“Nan, thy leeks be not hewn small enough. Cicely, look to the pottage, that it boil not over. Al’ce, thou idle jade!”—with a sound box on the ear,—“thou hast left out the onions in thy blanch-porre! Margery! Madge! Why, Madge, I say! Where is Mistress Margery, maidens? Joan, lass, hie thee up, and see whether Mistress Margery be not in the chamber.” ”

“ The book was bound in leather, dark brown in colour, and simple in workmanship. It was clasped with two small clasps of common metal, washed over with silver; the leaves were of vellum, and on the first page was a badly-drawn and violently-coloured illumination of Christ and the Samaritan woman. Stops (as a rule) it had not, except a full stop here and there; and capitals there were none, with the occasional exception of a letter in red ink. Notwithstanding this, the manuscript, being written in a clear small hand, was very legible to eyes accustomed to read only black letter. ”

“ You have deceived me!” he cried. “You told me, some months gone, when first I called you into this matter, that the sentence on heretics was prison.”
“My good Lord, I pray you remember that I told you but a moment back, that the new Act is just passed. Ere that the sentence truly was close prison; but now—”
On finding himself thus inveigled by the cunning of Abbot Bilson, Lord Marnell was beside himself with passion. He burst into a torrent of the most fearful language. Abbot Bilson stood calmly by, as if quite accustomed to such scenes. ”

“ Mistress Margery verified the assertion of Joan by following her into the kitchen almost immediately. And since Mistress Margery is to play the important part of heroine, it may be well to devote a few words to her person and costume. She is the only child of Sir Geoffrey Lovell, Knight, and Dame Agnes Lovell, and is now seventeen years of age; rather under the middle height, slenderly formed, with an appearance of great fragility and delicacy; her complexion is very fair, of that extreme fairness which often betokens disease, and her face almost colourless. ”