the past night, who, whenwe went in, craved assistance from her for to carry her to her nativevillage, which was some fifteen miles north of Norwich. She wasafraid, she said, for to go into the town; for nowadays to be poor wasto be a wicked person in men's eyes; and a traveller without money waslike to be whipt and put into the stocks for a vagabond, which sheshould die of if it should happen to her, who had been in the serviceof a countess, and had not thought to see herself in such straits,which she should never have been reduced to if her good lady had notbeen foully dealt with. Lady Surrey, wishing, I ween, by some sort ofexamination, to detect the truth of her words, inquired in whoseservice she had lived.
"Madam," she answered, "I was kitchen maid in the Countess ofLeicester's house, and never left her service till she was murtheredsome years back by a black villain in her household, moved by avillain yet more black than himself."
"Murthered!" my lady exclaimed. "It was bruited at the time that ladyhad died of a fall."
"Ay, marry," quoth the beggar, shaking her head, "I warrant you,ladies, that fall was compassed by more hands than two, and more mindsthan one. But it be not safe for to say so; as Mark Hewitt couldwitness if he was not dead, who was my sweetheart and a scullion atCumnor Place, and was poisoned in prison for that he offered to giveevidence touching his lady's death which would have hanged some whichdeserved it better than he did--albeit he had helped to rob a coach inWales after he had been discharged, as we all were, from the oldplace. Oh, if folks dared to tell all they do know, some which ride atthe queen's side should swing on a gibbet before this daytwelvemonth."
Lady Surrey sat down by this woman; and albeit I pulled her by thesleeve and whispered in her ear to come away--for methought her talkwas not fitting for her to hear, whose mind ran too much already onmelancholy themes--she would not go, and questioned this person verymuch touching the manner of Lady Leicester's life, and what wasreported concerning her death. This recital was given in a homely butwithal moving manner, which lent a greater horror to it than morestudied language should have done. She said her lady bad been ill sometime and never left her room; but that one day, when one of her lord'sgentlemen had come from London, and had been examining of the housewith the steward for to order some repairing of the old walls andstaircases, and the mason had been sent for also late in the evening,a so horrible shriek was heard from the part of the house wherein thecountess's chamber was, that it frighted every person in the place, sothat they did almost lose their senses; but that she herself had runto the passage on which the lady's bed-chamber did open, and saw someplanking removed, and many feet below the body of the countess lyingquite still, and by the appearance of her face perceived her to begone. And when the steward came to look also (this the woman said,lowering her voice, with her hollow eyes fixed on Lady Surrey'scountenance, which did express fear and sorrow), "I'll warrant you, mylady, he did wear a murtherer's visage, and I noticed that the corpsebled at his approach. But methinketh if that earl which rides by thequeen's side, and treads the world under his feet, had then been nigh,the mangled form should have raised itself and the cold dead lipscried out, 'Thou art the man!' Marry, when poor folks do steal ahorse, or a sheep, or shoot the fallow-deer in a nobleman's park, theystraightway do suffer and lose their life; but if a lord which is acourtier shall one day choose to put his wife out of his way for thebettering of his fortunes, even though it be by a foul murther, nomore ado is made than if he had shot a pigeon in his woods."
Then changing her theme, she asked Lady Surrey to dress a wound in herleg, for that she did hear from some in that place that she often diduse such kindness toward poor people. Without such assistance, shesaid, to walk the next day would be very painful. My lady straightwaybegan to loosen the bandages which covered the sore, and inquired howlong a time it should be since it had been dressed.
"Four days ago," the beggar answered, "Lady l'Estrange had done her somuch good as to salve the wound with a rare ointment which had greatlyassuaged the pain, until much walking had inflamed it anew."
We both did smile; and my lady said she feared to show herself lessskilful than her old pupil; but if the beggar should be credited, shedid acquit herself indifferently well of her charitable task; and thebounty she bestowed upon her afterward, I doubt not, did increase herpatient's esteem of her ability. But I did often wish that evening mylady had not heard this woman's tale, for I perceived her to harp uponit with a very notable persistency; and when I urged no credit shouldattach itself to her report, and it was most like to be untrue,she affirmed that some similar surmises had been spoken of at the timeof Lady Leicester's death; and that Lord Sussex and Lord Arundel hadonce mentioned, in her hearing, that the gypsy was infamed for hiswife's death, albeit never openly accused thereof. She had not takenmuch heed of their discourse at the time, she said; but now it cameback into her mind with a singular distinctness, and it was passingstrange she should have heard from an eye-witness the details of thistragedy. She should, she thought, write to her husband what the womanhad related; and then she changed her mind, and said she would not.
All my pleadings to her that she should think no more thereon werevain. She endeavored to speak of other subjects, but still this onewas uppermost in her thoughts. Once, in the midst of an argumenttouching the uses of pageants, which she maintained to be folly andidle waste, but which I defended, for that they sometimes served toexercise the wit and memory of such as contrive them, carrying on thedispute in a lively fashion, hoping thus to divert her mind, she brokeforth in these exclamations: "Oh, what baneful influences do exist incourts, when men, themselves honorable, abhor not to company with suchas be accused of foul crimes never disproved, and if they will onlystretch forth their blood-stained hands to help them to rise, disdainnot to clasp them!"
Then later, when I had persuaded her to play on the guitar, which shedid excellently well, she stopped before the air was ended to ask if Idid know if Lady Leicester was a fair woman, and if her husband was atany time enamored of her. And when I was unable to resolve thesequestions, she must needs begin to argue if it should be worse neverto be loved, or else to lose a husband's affection; and then asked me,if Basil should alter in his liking of me, which she did not hold tobe possible, except that men be so wayward and inconstant that thebest do sometimes change, if I should still be glad he had once lovedme.
"If he did so much alter," I answered, "as no longer to care for me,methinks I should at once cast him out of my heart; for then it wouldnot have been Basil, but a fancied being coined by mine ownimaginings, I should have doted on."
"Tut, tut!" she cried; "thou art too proud. If thou dost speak truly,I misdoubt that to be love which could so easily discard its object."
"For my part," I replied, somewhat nettled, "I think the highest sortof passion should be above suspecting change in him which doth inspireit, or resenting a change which should procure it freedom from anunworthy thrall."
"I ween," she answered, "we do somewhat misconceive each one theother's meaning; and moreover, no parallel can exist between a wife'saffection and a maiden's liking." Then she said she hoped the poorwoman would stay another day, so that she might speak with her again;for she would fain learn from her what was Lady Leicester's behaviorduring her sorrowful years, and the temper of her mind before her sosudden death.
"Indeed, dear lady," I urged, "what likelihood should there be that aserving-wench in her kitchen should be acquainted with a noble lady'sthoughts?"
"I pray God," my lady said, "our meanest servants do not read in ourcountenance, yea in the manner of our common and indifferent actions,the motions of our souls when we be in such trouble as should only beknown to God and one true friend."
Lady Surrey sent in the morning for to inquire if the beggar was gone.To my no small content she had departed before break of day. Some daysafterward a messenger from London brought to my lady, from ArundelHouse, a letter from my Lady Lumley, wherein she urged her torepair instantly to London, for that the earl, her grandfather, wasvery grievously si
ck, and desired for to see her. My lady resolved togo that very day, and straightway gave orders touching the manner ofher journey, and desired her coach to be made ready. She proposed thatthe while she was absent I should pay a visit to Lady l'Estrange,which I had promised for to do before I left Norfolkshire; "and then,"quoth my lady, "if my good Lord Arundel doth improve in his health, sothat nothing shall detain me at London, I will return to mybanishment, wherein my best comfort shall ever be thy company, goodConstance. But if peradventure my lord should will me to stay withhim" (oh, how her eyes did brighten! and the fluttering of her heartcould be perceived in her quick speech and the heaving of her bosom
Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century Page 51