LADY AUDREY.
"AUDREY, I have had a letter from my brother Miles."
"And he is coming home to us from Oxford, as your father wishes!—You
see I can guess the news," added the young lady. She was little more
than a girl, although she was dressed in the sombre cap and wimple of
a widow. She spoke quite eagerly, not waiting for her sister-in-law to
finish what she was saying.
"I am afraid the messenger must have lost my father's letter, or
reached Oxford too late, for this letter—that a pedlar has just
brought—comes from London, although the man received it at Oxford. It
has come right speedily too, for it is little more than a week since it
was written, and now it is in my hands."
"But what does he say?" asked Lady Audrey Paton, stamping her foot
impatiently. She had come on a visit to her husband's old home, but she
found it very dull, and so Sir Thomas, after a good deal of persuasion
from his wife and daughter, had consented that Miles should come home
for a few weeks, and had written a coldly worded invitation to that
effect, and they were expecting the answer to this invitation when
Miles' letter from London reached them, which again upset all the plans
of the old man.
Whether the young widow surmised it or not, Sir Thomas Paton had
decided that the best thing he could do for Miles was to marry him to
his brother's widow; thus following the august example of the king.
Whether she knew what the ultimate intent was or not, she had looked
forward to the coming of Miles, for the death of their elder son had
greatly aged Sir Thomas and Lady Paton; while Margery scarce ever left
her own wing of the house, so that the young widow found that the old
homestead, which was full of life and jollity before she was married,
was now even more dull than her own home. So that she had begun to look
forward to the coming of Miles with some eagerness, and she was greatly
disappointed when she heard the news received by Margery.
While she was telling Lady Audrey what her brother said, the door
opened and her father walked in. "Eh, Margery what is this that I hear?
Betty says the pedlar has brought you a letter from Oxford. What does
that knave mean by not coming home as I commanded him?"
"Miles is in London, father; he has taken service with the great
Cardinal."
"What—what?" thundered the old man, trembling with excitement as he
leaned upon his stick. "A son of mine take service with any man, except
it be the king himself, to chastise his enemies and uphold the honour
of England! That is the only service a Paton ever knows."
"But you forget father that you have not sent Miles any money for some
months, so that he has been obliged to write the Greek New Testament
into English to earn his bread of late."
"How now, child—am I to be defied by son and daughter too?"
"Father, I am not defying you," said Margery calmly; "I am only telling
you what I know is the truth. Miles has had a very hard time at Oxford
this last winter, and if he had not been able to—"
"I will hear no more about that story," interrupted the gentleman
angrily, "tell me what he says now."
For answer Margery handed her father the letter she had just been
reading. He looked at it long enough to glean an estimate of its
contents, and then flung it from him angrily, exclaiming, "He has
thwarted me again—the mean souled rebel. What does he mean by it?"
Margery could only look at her father in dumb amazement. For why should
he be so put out because Miles could not come home and amuse Audrey?
When he had flung out of the room in a storm of anger, she turned to
her sister-in-law and said, "I cannot understand my father. Why should
he be angry because Miles has gone to London? He would not let him
come to Woodstock at Christmas, or even send him a silver crown for a
Christmas box."
"Is it true that he is translating the New Testament into English?"
"Yes, he has sent me a copy of the Gospel of Matthew done into English."
"Oh Margery! I am so glad: will you let me see it?" asked Lady Audrey.
Margery looked surprised at her sister-in-law's eagerness. "I would
have shown it to you before," she said; "but my confessor told me it
was against the law of the Church to read such a book, and that I had
better send it back to Miles, and tell him not to do such a thing
again, or grave trouble would befall him and us too."
Audrey laughed. She had very little respect for priests or monks. So
their threats made small impression upon her; and it was only out of
curiosity that she wanted to see Margery's copy of St. Matthew.
But having got possession of it, she would not part with it until she
had read it through; and when she had read it once she began to read it
again, and then to compare it with the Latin Vulgate.
It had such a fascination for her that she could talk of nothing else,
and she often made Lady Paton very uncomfortable by her remark; for
what would happen next if fashionable ladies took upon themselves
to set the clergy right upon such a thing as the translation of the
Testament?
Audrey protested against this view of the matter, declaring she only
wanted to know what was the truth—to know the mind of God and the Lord
Jesus Christ—and no one could blame her for this.
Lady Paton did more than blame her. She was very angry about the whole
matter. But fortunately Lady Audrey was summoned to go with her mother
to visit an aunt at Little Sodbury, in Gloucestershire; and so her
visit to Woodstock was abruptly terminated, to the great relief of Lady
Paton, who feared that the holy fathers at the monastery would hear
of her talk about the New Testament and be offended about it. She was
angry even with her own darling Margery, and bade her lock up the book
in the oak-chest, and by no means allow anyone else to see it.
But before she went, Lady Audrey had copied several chapters, and these
she took with her, and made no secret of what she had done when she
joined her mother.
The Countess was amused that her daughter should appear as a learned
lady; for the King's daughter, the Lady Mary, was being well educated,
and his sister was accounted a learned lady, and many of the noble
dames she had met were having their daughters educated, to share in
this new learning people were talking about, and as a young widow
Audrey would have a right to talk and express an opinion, which she
could not as an unmarried girl.
At the manor house, at Little Sodbury, they met the tutor of the
family, who had known Erasmus, and had been both at Oxford and
Cambridge, and at dinner frequently the talk turned upon the difference
between the translation of Erasmus and the Latin Vulgate; and from
Master William Tyndale, Audrey learned a good deal more of the gospel
truth—expounded both in conversation and in preaching.
To him she showed her precious sheets of St. Matthew's Gospel in
English, and he seemed very much struck with the idea.
"Why, if we could only get the Testament properly translated and
printed in the new printing presses, it would be better than all the
preaching," said the young man, who could think of nothing but how the
new doctrine that he had learned from God's word should be made known
to others.
In spite of his duties all the week, he went out preaching in the
surrounding villages on Sunday, without fee or reward; nay, he was
thankful if any parish priest would let him use his pulpit to speak out
boldly and plainly, and tell the people that the whole law of God was
contained in the Scripture, which if they could read for themselves
they would be able to judge whether the doctrines of the Church were
true or not.
Sometimes Lady Audrey and another friend would join the children and
their tutor in a ramble through the fields, or climbing the Cotswold
Hills; but wherever it might be, the talk of these two would come round
to the discussion of translating the Scriptures into English; and
Tyndale listened with the greatest interest to the account she gave
of Miles Paton translating the Gospel for his sister, and afterwards
making other copies for friends, to maintain himself at the university.
"But that is slow, slow," said Tyndale, shaking his head. "It is too
costly, too," he added, "for when once the translation is made copies
should be made quickly; and this could only be done by the printing
press, an invention that would give the Scriptures to serving men and
maidens, as well as people of quality, who could afford to pay large
sums of money to the scrivener who wrote them. That is how it must be
at last, Lady Audrey, if ever the Bible is to have any power in this
our England; for it is the only way it can get into the hands of the
people."
Lady Audrey soon found that this was the dream of Master Tyndale's
life,—to bring the new learning, that had wrought such changes at the
universities, down to the comprehension of the common people. But she
was not sure that she liked this idea.
It was, of course, quite the right and proper thing for people
like herself and the Patons to know all about what was said of the
difference between the Latin Vulgate and the new translation, but she
thought the doctrine of penances and Masses for the dead, and the other
doctrines of the Church taught by the priests, were much better suited
to the common people than this new learning; for if they were taught
to think for themselves as the New Testament taught, might they not
be even more troublesome than they were now to the landlords? She had
heard something of this from her late husband and his father, and so
she thought it would be a great mistake to get the Scriptures put into
the hands of such common people as yeomen and ploughmen,—and she said
so.
"But, my lady, have you thought that these same yeomen and ploughmen
have souls for whom the Lord Christ died, as well as for the rich and
great?" said Master Tyndale, in a tone of rebuke.
The lady tossed her head. "What will become of the rich and great
if the poor are taught that they have a right to share in all their
possessions? I quite agree with the priest who came to dinner
yesterday. My mother said he was a wise, foreseeing man, and if this
new learning is to be of any use to us we must keep it to ourselves,
and not make it common by translating books into English."
"But what would you have known of this New Testament of Erasmus if your
friend had not translated it into English?" said the tutor, slyly.
"Oh! I spoke not so much against the book being done into English, but
it being made common through the printing of it, such as you wish. Of
course, if the book is written out fairly by a good scrivener, he must
be paid for his work, and the books will cost a large sum, and—"
"And the rich only can become possessed of them," interrupted Tyndale,
hotly; for the selfish ignorance of the young widow made him angry, the
more so perhaps that he had hoped great things of her during the first
part of her stay in his master's house.
Like many others, Lady Audrey was content to take up the new notion
that reading the Testament had given her, but when she heard the
dinner-table talk about the poor rising and throwing off the duty they
owed to their masters as well as the priests, she drew back, and began
to think that Miles Paton must be as mad as his father said, for, if
the Gospel was to be followed out to its logical conclusion, as one of
the gentlemen said, we should have the ignorant poor pulling out their
eyes and cutting off their right hands, and the number of beggars would
be increased tenfold. She brought forward this second-hand argument
now, but Master Tyndale only laughed at her for thinking sensible men
would be so foolish as to believe that this command was to be taken
literally.
"See you now, Lady Audrey, we have a picture at Sodbury Hall of a fox
preaching in a friar's hood and gown, but whoever believes that a fox
ever mounted a pulpit steps? Yet we say the picture is a true one,
because we know that many of the friars and monks are as cunning and
hypocritical as a fox. So with this command to pluck out the eye and
cut off the hand; it but teaches that if some sin is as dear to us, and
as close to us, aye, and as useful to us as a right hand or a right
eye, still they must be given up if we are to enter the kingdom of
heaven."
Audrey looked serious for a minute or two. She had learned to venerate
this tutor, for she had heard on all sides since she had been here that
he was one of the most learned men in England; and learning was the
passport everywhere now, so that although he might be only a tutor to
Master Walsh's children at present, he might, by-and-bye, be received
at Court, and rise to the highest dignity in Church and State, and so
be able to help forward her interests and those of her family.
So Lady Audrey was careful how she answered him, for he was of good
birth like herself, and she could not tell him that in championing
the cause of the poor he was speaking for those to whom he himself
belonged, as she would have liked to do. So she set about it in a
more gentle manner, conceding all that he said about the cunning and
hypocrisy of the monks and friars.
"Then why should we not warn the poor against falling victims to their
guile?" asked Tyndale, quickly. "The rich can protect themselves better
against the extortion of these foxes than the poor and ignorant can.
Why should they not be told that God is ready and willing to pardon
all sin, if we on our part will earnestly strive and endeavour to
overcome it, or give it up? Why should the poor be left to believe that
penances and masses are necessary to gain the release of the soul from
Purgatory, and starve themselves almost—as they sometimes do—to secure
the prayers of a priest to mitigate the pain of some dear one who has
passed away?"
"But the rich have to pay for masses as well," said Audrey, thinking
of the quarrelling that had gone on between her own and her husband's
family as to who should pay for the requisite number of masses to
be said for the release of his soul from Purgatory. She did not
tell Master William Tyndale about this, for she had wit enough to
see that it did not redound to the credit of either side, and she
thought she might be asked why, if she believed that masses for the
dead were necessary, she did not deny herself some luxury in dress or
appointments, and send the money so saved to the monastery, that the
time of poor Jack's stay in Purgatory might be lessened.
Altogether, she found herself on the horns of a dilemma, and was not
sorry when the children, who had been sitting at their feet listening,
suddenly asked some question on a totally different subject, which she
eagerly took up as an escape from the present discussion.
She had been some months now at Sodbury Hall, and Master Tyndale began
to hope that she too might be one who would help to make known the
glorious news of the Gospel of the love of God. But after this talk
the two mutually avoided further conversation on the subject, for Lady
Audrey did not want to be made uncomfortable by such home truths as
Master Tyndale was apt to apply in his arguments; while he, on his
side, thought that the less he saw of the fascinating little lady the
better it would be for his future work, which was gradually forming
itself in his mind, and from which, he prayed God, he might never be
turned aside,—to become a translator of the New Testament into English,
and get it printed, either in London or at one of the great printing
presses on the continent.
She had some precious fragments of the Word of God which she could
read, and which the Holy Spirit could enforce in His own good time;
but for the mass of the English people there was no such provision,
and their souls were starving for lack of the Bread of Life. So in the
midst of his teaching, preaching, and the opportunities society gave
him of making known the truth to his master's friends, he made some
sort of a beginning to translate the New Testament, using not only the
Greek, but also the Latin translation of Erasmus, that the English
version should be as perfect as possible.
But it was slow work, and he began to see before the summer of this
year—1522—was over, that he should have to make some change in his life
if ever it was to be completed, and the haunting dream of his life
fulfilled, by the Testament being not only translated and written, but
printed in English!
Some thought of this had doubtless entered his mind before the visit
of Lady Audrey, but since he had seen the fragments of the Gospel she
possessed, and heard the story of Miles Paton, it had become almost a
passion that possessed him, to do this work himself for his country, so
that what now seemed the wildest dream might be actual fact, and the
Bible be the possession of ploughmen and shopkeepers, as well as of the
students at the universities.