CHAPTER TWO.
A LATE DINNER.
"And there is something in this book That makes all care be gone, And yet I weep--I know not why-- As I go reading on!"
Mary Howitt.
Margery went into the kitchen, and helped to prepare supper, under thedirections of Dame Lovell, and then she returned to her own room, andtried to finish her illumination of Peter and Malchus; but she could notcommand her thoughts sufficiently to paint well, so much was her heartset on "the book." Therefore she sat with her hands folded in her lap,and tried to recall Sastre's sermon. Then came supper-time, and Margerywent down to the banqueting-hall; and after supper, having begged herparents' blessing before retiring to rest, she came back to her chamber.But she did not attempt to undress. When the sun set, a red gloryabove the tree-tops, she was watching at her casement for RichardPynson; and when the silver moon and the little golden stars had takenthe sun's place in the heavens, she was watching still. At last sheheard the sound of a horse's feet, and stole softly down the privatestaircase which led from her room to the hall. As Richard entered thehall, Margery softly murmured his name.
"What, Mistress Margery!" he cried, in astonishment. "You here! Youhave watched well for the book, and--there it is."
And Richard drew from the bag slung over his shoulder a small quartovolume.
"Oh, thanks, good Master Pynson, a thousand thanks!" cried Margery, indelight. "And how long season may I keep the book?"
"Master Carew said," returned Pynson, "that he asked not jewels for thesafe-keeping of the book, for the word of a Lovell was enough," andRichard drew the necklace from his bosom and handed it to Margery. "Hewill lend the book for one month's time. He said, furthermore, that helent it, not because he loved it not, but because he prayed that you,Mistress Margery, might know and love it too."
"Amen!" was Margery's answer, as she folded the book to her bosom, andcrept softly back to her chamber--but not to bed. The first thing shedid was to take off her petticoat and cote-hardie, and to put on a loosedressing-gown of grey serge. Then she divested herself of herhead-dress, and allowed her fair hair to flow down over her shoulderswithout restraint. Having thus rendered herself comfortable, she seatedherself in a carved chair, furnished with an ample cushion, andproceeded to examine the book.
The book was bound in leather, dark brown in colour, and simple inworkmanship. It was clasped with two small clasps of common metal,washed over with silver; the leaves were of vellum, and on the firstpage was a badly-drawn and violently-coloured illumination of Christ andthe Samaritan woman. Stops (as a rule) it had not, except a full stophere and there; and capitals there were none, with the occasionalexception of a letter in red ink. Notwithstanding this, the manuscript,being written in a clear small hand, was very legible to eyes accustomedto read only black letter. At first Margery felt as if she were doingwrong in reading the book, but her curiosity drew her on, as well as herearnest desire to know more of those "strange things" of which Sastrehad spoken in his sermon. Margery had taken the precaution of fasteningthe door before she commenced the study of the book. After the firstglance which had made her acquainted with the particulars above noticed,she opened the book at random near the middle, and her eye fell on thefollowing words:--
"_Be not your herte afrayed, ne drede it; ye bileuen in God, and bileeueye in me. In the hous of my Fadir ben manye dwellingis; if ony thingelasse, I hadde seid to you; for I go to make readi to you a place. Andif I go to make redy to you a place, eftsoone I come, and I schal takeyou to my silf, that where I am, ye be_." John xiv. 1-3.
Never before had Margery read words like these. "Be not your herteafrayed!" Why, the one feeling which she was taught was more acceptableto God than any other, was fear. "In the hous of my Fadir ben manyedwellingis." Margery clasped her hands above her head, and laid headand hands upon the open volume; and in the agony of her earnestness shecried aloud, "O Lamb that was slain, hast thou not made ready a dwellingfor Margery Lovell!"
Margery read on, and the more she read the more she wondered. TheChurch did not teach as this book did, and _both_ could not be right.Which, then, was wrong? How could the Church be wrong, which was thedepository of God's truth? And yet, how could the holy apostle be wrongin reporting the words of Christ?
Many times over during that night did Margery's thoughts arrangethemselves in this manner. At one time she thought that nothing couldpossibly supersede the infallibility of the Church; at another she sawthe complete impossibility of anything being able to stand for a momentagainst the infallibility of God. The only conclusion at which shecould arrive was a determination to read the volume, and judge forherself. She read on. "_I am weye, treuthe, and lyf; no man cometh tothe Fadir but by me_." [John xiv. 6.] Were these words the words ofChrist? And what way had Margery been taught? Obedience to the Church,humility, penances, alms-giving--works always, Christ never. Couldthese be the right way? She went on, till the tears ran down her cheekslike rain--till her heart throbbed and her soul glowed with feelings shehad never felt before--till the world, and life, and death, and thingspresent, all seemed to be nothing, and Christ alone seemed to beeverything. She read on, utterly oblivious of the flight of time, andregardless that darkness had given place to light, until the fall ofsomething in the room below, and the voice of Dame Lovell calling forCicely, suddenly warned her that the house was astir. Margery sprangup, her heart beating now for a different reason. She hurriedly closedthe book, and secreted it in a private cupboard, of which she alone hadthe key, and where she generally kept her jewels, and any littletrinkets on which she set a special value. Margery's next act, I fear,was indefensible; for it was to throw the cover and pillows of her bedinto confusion, that the maids might suppose it had been occupied asusual. She then noiselessly unfastened the door, and proceeded with herdressing, so that when, a few minutes after, Dame Lovell came panting upthe stairs, and lifted the latch, the only thing she noticed was Margerystanding before the mirror, and fastening up her hair with what shecalled a pin, and what we should, I suspect, designate a metallicskewer.
"What, Madge, not donned yet?" was Dame Lovell's greeting. "How thouhast overslept thyself, girl! Dost know it is already five of theclock, and thy father and I have been stirring above an hour?"
"Is it so late, of a truth?" asked Margery, in dismay. "I cry youmercy, good mother!"
And Margery was thinking what excuse she could use by way of apology,when Dame Lovell's next words set her at rest, as they showed that themind of that good lady was full of other thoughts than her daughter'slate rising.
"Grand doings, lass!" said she, as she sat down in the carved arm-chair."Grand doings, of a truth, Madge!"
"Where, good mistress mine?"
"Where?" said Dame Lovell, lifting her eyebrows. "Why, here, in LovellTower. Where should they be else? Richard Pynson was so late ofreturning from Marston that he saw not thy father until this morrow."
"I heard him come."
"Wert awake?"
"Yea. I was awake a long season!"
"Poor lass!" said her mother. "No marvel thou art late. But harken towhat I was about to tell thee. Sir Ralph Marston and his kinsman theLord Marnell, dine with us to-day."
"To-day?"
"Yea, to-day. Dear, dear, dear, dear! What folk must they be that livein London town! Marry, Sir Ralph sent word by Richard Pynson, prayingus not to dine until one of the clock, for that the Lord Marnell is notused to it at an earlier hour. I marvel when they sup! I trow it isnot 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 noblemanfrom London dining with her parents than a modern young lady would be iftold that a Chinese mandarin was expected.
"Yea, truly, in London dwells he, and is of the bedchamber to our Lordthe King, and a great man, Madge! Hie thee down when thou art dressed,child, and make up thy choicest dishes. But, good Saint Ch
ristopher!how shall I do from seven to one of the clock without eating? I willbid Cicely serve a void at ten."
And so saying, Dame Lovell bustled downstairs as quickly as hercorpulence would allow her, and Margery followed, a few minutes later.While the former was busy in the hall, ordering fresh rushes to bespread, and the tables set, Margery repaired to the ample kitchen,where, summoning the maids to assist her, and tying a large coarse apronround her, she proceeded to concoct various dishes, reckoned at thattime particularly choice. There are few books more curious than acookery-book five hundred years old.
Our forefathers appear to have used joints of meat much less frequentlythan the smaller creatures, whether flesh or fowl, hares, rabbits,chickens, capons, etcetera. Of fish, eels excepted, they ate little ornone out of Lent. Potatoes, of course, they had none; and rice was sorare that it figured as a "spice;" but to make up for this, they ate,apparently, almost every green thing that grew in their gardens,rose-leaves not excepted. Of salt they had an unutterable abhorrence.Sugar existed, but it was very expensive, and honey was often usedinstead. Pepper and cloves were employed in immense quantities. Thearticle which appears to have held with them the corresponding place tothat of salt with us, and which was never omitted in any dish, no matterwhat its other component parts, was saffron. In corroboration of theseremarks, I append one very curious receipt,--a dish which formed one ofthe principal covers on Sir Geoffrey Lovell's table:--
"Farsure of Hare.
"Take hares and flee [flay] hom, and washe hom in broth of fleshe withthe blode; then boyle the brothe and scome [skim] hit wel and do hit ina pot, and more brothe thereto. And take onyons and mynce horn and puthom in the pot, and set hit on the fyre and let hit sethe [boil], andtake bred and stepe hit in wyn and vynegur, and drawe hit up and do hitin the potte, and pouder of pepur and clowes, and maces hole [whole],and pynes, and raysynges of corance [currants], then take and parboylewel the hare, and choppe hym on gobettes [small pieces] and put him intoa faire [clean] urthen pot; and do thereto clene grese, and set hit onthe fyre, and stere hit wele tyl hit be wel fryed; then caste hit in thepot to the broth, an do therto pouder of canell [cinnamon] and sugur;and let hit boyle togedur, and colour hit wyth saffron, and serve hitforthe."
It will be noticed from this that our ancestors had none of our vulgarprejudices with respect to onions, neither had they any regard to theScriptural prohibition of blood. The utter absence of all prescriptionof quantities in these receipts is delightfully indefinite.
There were many other dishes to this important dinner beside the"farsure of hare;" and on this occasion most of the rabbits and chickenswere entire, and not "chopped on gobbettes;" for the feast was "for alord," and lords were permitted to eat whole birds and beasts, while theless privileged commonalty had to content themselves with "gobbettes."
When Margery had concluded her preparations for dinner, she went intothe garden to gather rosemary and flowers, which she disposed in variousparts of the hall, laying large bunches of rosemary in all availableplaces. All was now ready, and Margery washed her hands, took off herapron, and ran up into her own room, to pin on her shoulder a"quintise," in other words, a long streamer of cherry-coloured ribbon.
The guests arrived on horseback about half-past twelve, and RichardPynson ushered them into the hall, and ran into the kitchen to informDame Lovell and Margery, adding that "he pitied Lord Marnell's horse," aremark the signification of which became apparent when the ladiespresented themselves in the banqueting-hall. Sir Geoffrey was alreadythere, conversing with his guests. Margery expected to find LordMarnell similar to his cousin, Sir Ralph Marston, whom she already knew,and who was a pleasant, gentlemanly man of about forty years of age,always joking with everybody, and full of fun. But she did not expectwhat she now saw.
The great man from London, who sat in a large oak-chair in the hall, wasa great man in all corporeal senses. He was very tall, and stout inproportion; an older man than his cousin Sir Ralph, perhaps ten orfifteen years older; and there was something in his face which madeMargery drop her eyes in an instant. It was a very curious face. Theupper part--the eyes and forehead--was finely-formed, and showed atleast an average amount of intellect; but from the nose downward theform and expression of the features were suggestive only of theanimal,--a brutal, sensual, repelling look. Margery, who had looked forthe great man from London with girlish curiosity, suddenly felt anunconquerable and causeless dislike to him swell up in her heart, asomething which she could neither define nor account for, that made herwish to avoid sitting near him, and turn her eyes away whenever his weredirected towards her.
Sir Geoffrey presented his wife and daughter to Lord Marnell, and SirRalph came forward with a cordial greeting; after which they took theirseats at table, for Richard Pynson was already bringing in the "farsureof hare," and Mistress Katherine following with the pottage. Theoccupants of the high table, on the dais, consisted of Sir Geoffrey andDame Lovell, Lord Marnell, Sir Ralph Marston, Margery, Richard Pynson,Mistress Katherine, and Friar Andrew Rous, Sir Geoffrey's chaplain. Themaids sat at the second table, and the farm-servants at a third, lowerdown the hall. Sir Ralph, as usual, was full of fun, and spared nobody,keeping the whole table in a roar of laughter, excepting Lord Marnell,who neither laughed at his cousin's jokes, nor offered any observationsof his own, being wholly occupied with the discussion of the variousdishes as they were presented to him, and consuming, according to thejoint testimony of Dame Lovell and Friar Andrew after the feast, "enoughto last seven men for a week." When dinner was over, and "the tableslifted," the company gathered round the fire, and proceeded to makethemselves comfortable. Sir Ralph sang songs, and told funny anecdotes,and cracked jokes with the young people; while Lord Marnell, inconversation with Sir Geoffrey, showed that the promise of neither halfof his face was entirely unfulfilled, by proving himself a shrewdobserver, and not a bad talker. In the midst of this conversation, SirRalph, turning round to Sir Geoffrey, inquired if he had heard anythingof a certain sermon that had been preached the day before at BostockChurch.
"I heard of it," answered he, "but I heard it not. Some of mine,methinks, heard the same. 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 moreas my good cousin telleth me that Master Sastre is accounted a great oneby some--but these seem not of the best."
"Misconceive me not, fair cousin," said Lord Marnell. "It is only theLollards that think well of the man, and thou wottest that Holy Churchlooketh not kindly on their evil doings. That ill priest, JohnWycliffe, who is accounted their leader, hath done more hurt to thefaith than any heretic these many years."
"Thou art but ill affected unto them, I trow," said Sir Ralph, jokingly.
"Ill affected!" exclaimed Lord Marnell, bringing down his hand violentlyupon the arm of his chair, with a blow which made Margery start. "I cryyou mercy, fair mistress--but if I knew of any among my kin or meynie[Household retinue] that leaned that way--ay, were it mine own sister,the Prioress of Kennington--I tell thee, Ralph, I would have her upbefore the King's Grace's council, and well whipped!"
Margery shuddered slightly. Sir Ralph leaned back in his chair, andlaughed heartily.
"Well said, fair cousin mine! But I pray thee, tell me what doctrineshold these men, that thou wouldst have them all up afore the King'sGrace's council, and well whipped?"
"All manner of evil!" answered Lord Marnell, wrathfully. "They hold, asI hear, that the blessed Sacrament of the Altar is in no wise the truebody of Christ, but only a piece of bread blessed by the priest, and tobe eaten in memory of His death; for the which reason also they wouldallow the lay folk to drink Christ's blood. Moreover, they say that theblessed angels and God's saints be not to be worshipped, but only to beheld in reverence and kindly memory. Also, they give to the commonpeople the Scriptures of God's Word for to read, which we wot well isonly fit for priests. And in all things whi
ch they do, I find not thatthese evil wretches do hold any true thing as taught by Holy Church, butone, which is masses for souls departed. I wis not much concerningthem, for they move mine anger."
"I pray your good Lordship," asked Sir Geoffrey, "can you tell mewhether these men be in great force in London or thereabouts at thistime? Find they any favour in the Court?"
"They be ever increasing," said Lord Marnell "so much so that the King'scouncil have seen good to prepare some orders against them--forbiddingof 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 longeror shorter time, as pleaseth the King's Grace. I trow they find notfavour at Court with many, but the few that look well on them be unhaplyof the highest. I have heard say that some in the Duke of Lancaster'spalace show them favour, and it is no news that the Queen--whose soulGod pardon!--did lean that way. In all open hours she was reading ofScripture in the vulgar tongue. Master Sastre, the priest, who my faircousin telleth me was a-preaching in Bostock Church yestermorn, is, Itake it, one of their chief men, and did learn of Master Wycliffehimself. I trow he will find it go hard with him if ever he cometh nearLondon again. He goeth a-preaching of his doctrines up and down therealm, and perverting from the faith evilly-disposed men and sely[simple, unlearned] damsels who lack something to set their tonguesrunning."
Sir Ralph here made a remark which turned the conversation; for thisMargery was sorry, as it had interested her extremely. Lord Marnell'sremarks taught her more about the Lollards than she had ever knownbefore. So the Queen read the Bible in English! thought she. Whyshould not I do the same? She sat wrapped in her own thoughts for along time, and when she roused herself from them, she noticed that DameLovell had quitted the room, and that Sir Ralph and Sir Geoffrey weretalking politics, wherein they were occupied in proving, to theunqualified satisfaction of each, that there was "something rotten inthe State," and that England could not last very long, her only businessbeing to demolish France. And Margery, finding the conversation nowextremely dull--though had she for an instant suspected the turn itwould take in her absence, she certainly would never have gone--slippedout, and joined the more noisy party in the kitchen, where she foundDame Lovell seated in the chimney-corner and inveighing ferventlyagainst late hours.
"An it be not three of the clock already," said that angry lady, "I am aheathen Jew, and no Christian! Time to prepare supper for Christianfolk--but when that great hulk of a man, that can do nothing in thisworld but eat, thinks to sup, I wis not! Marry, I trow that nought morewill go down his throat until evensong! I marvel if our grandsons willbe as great fools as we be!"
"More, Dame," answered Mistress Katherine, sententiously. She was awoman who very seldom spoke, and when she did, compressed all her ideasinto as few words as would serve the purpose.
"Nay, Saint Christopher! I hope not," said Dame Lovell. "And what am Ifor to do now? Madge, lass, open the door and bid hither RichardPynson."
Margery softly opened the door into the hall; and as softly called theperson who answered to that name. He rose, and came to her, and SirGeoffrey and Lord Marnell, who were in low-toned, earnest conversation,suddenly stopped as she appeared.
"Richard," said Dame Lovell, in what she doubtlessly intended for awhisper, "I pray thee, good youth, to go in softly, and privily demandof Sir Ralph what time he list to sup."
Richard executed the order, and, returning, closed the door behind him.
"Sir Ralph saith, good mistress mine, that the Lord Marnell when at homesuppeth not afore six of the clock; but he prayeth you for to sup whenyou will, to the which he will without doubt accommodate himself."
"Six of the clock!" cried Dame Lovell, in amazement. "Richard, art surethou heardest aright?"
"Certes, good mistress."
Dame Lovell sat in silent horror.
"Well!" said she at length, "if ever in all my days did I hear of a likething! Cicely, serve a void in my privy chamber at four of the clock.This poor country of ours may well go to wrack, if its rulers sup notafore six of the clock! Dear, dear, dear! I marvel if the blessedVirgin Saint Mary supped not until six of the clock! May all the saintsforgive us that we be such fools!"