She made Answer, "Perhaps you can give me Tuppence, Mistress, to lay on
her poor Eyelids and keep 'em down. Bless 'ee, bless 'ee! You're like
the good Samaritan--he pulled out Twopence. And maybe, if I come to 'ee
To-morrow, you'll give me a Lapfulle of Rosemarie, to lay on her poor
Corpse.... I know you've Plenty. GOD be with 'ee, Children; and be sure
ye mind how a Christian can die."
Soe we left, and came Home sober enow. _Cecy_ sayth, "To die is not
soe fearfulle, _Meg_, as I thoughte, but shoulde _you_ fancy dying
without a Priest? I shoulde not; and yet _Gammer_ sayd she wanted not
one. Howbeit, for certayn, _Gammer Gurney_ is noe Witch, or she would
not soe prayse GOD."
To conclude, _Father_, on hearing Alle, hath given _Gammer_ more than
enow for her present Needes; and _Cecy_ and I are the Almoners of his
Mercy.
_June 24th._
Yesternighte, being _St. John's Eve_, we went into Town to see the
mustering of the Watch. Mr. _Rastall_ had secured us a Window opposite
the _King's Head_, in _Chepe_, where theire Majestys went in State to
see the Show. The Streets were a Marvell to see, being like unto a
Continuation of fayr Bowres or Arbours, garlanded acrosse and over the
Doors with greene Birch, long Fennel, Orpin, St. _John's_ Wort, white
Lilies, and such like; with innumerable Candles intersperst, the which,
being lit up as soon as 'twas Dusk, made the Whole look like enchanted
Land; while, at the same Time, the leaping over Bon-fires commenced,
and produced Shouts of Laughter. The Youths woulde have had _Father_
goe downe and joyn 'em; _Rupert_, speciallie, begged him hard, but he
put him off with, "Sirrah, you Goose-cap, dost think 'twoulde befitt
the Judge of the _Sheriffs' Court_?"
At length, to the Sound of Trumpets, came marching up _Cheapside_ two
Thousand of the Watch, in white Fustian, with the City Badge; and seven
hundred Cressett Bearers, eache with his Fellow to supplie him with
Oyl, and making, with theire flaring Lights, the Night as cleare as
Daye. After 'em, the Morris-dancers and City Waites; the Lord Mayor on
horseback, very fine, with his Giants and Pageants; and the Sheriff and
his Watch, and _his_ Giants and Pageants. The Streets very uproarious
on our way back to the Barge, but the homeward Passage delicious;
the Nighte Ayre cool; and the Stars shining brightly. _Father_ and
_Erasmus_ had some astronomick Talk; howbeit, methoughte _Erasmus_ less
familiar with the heavenlie Bodies than _Father_ is. Afterwards they
spake of the King, but not over-freelie, by reason of the Bargemen
overhearing. Thence, to the ever-vext Question of _Martin Luther_, of
whome _Erasmus_ spake in Terms of earneste, yet qualifyde Prayse.
"If _Luther_ be innocent," quoth he, "I woulde not run him down by a
wicked Faction; if he be in Error, I woulde rather have him reclaymed
than destroyed; for this is most agreeable to the Doctrine of our deare
Lord and Master, who woulde not bruise the broken Reede, nor quenche
the smoking Flax." And much more to same Purpose.
We younger Folks felle to choosing our favourite Mottoes and Devices,
in which the Elders at length joyned us. _Mother's_ was loyal--"Cleave
to the Crown though it hang on a Bush." _Erasmus's_ pithie--"_Festina
lente._" _William_ sayd he was indebted for his to St. _Paul_--"I
seeke not yours, but you." For me, I quoted one I had seene in an olde
Countrie Church, "_Mieux être que paroître_," which pleased _Father_
and _Erasmus_ much.
_June 25th._
Poor _Erasmus_ caughte colde on the Water last Nighte, and keeps House
to-daye, taking warm Possets. 'Tis my Week of Housekeeping under
Mother's Guidance, and I never had more Pleasure in it; delighting to
suit his Taste in sweete Things, which, methinks, all Men like. I have
enow of Time left for Studdy, when alle's done.
He hathe beene the best Part of the Morning in our Academia, looking
over Books and Manuscripts, taking Notes of some, discoursing with Mr.
_Gunnel_ on others; and, in some Sorte, interrupting our Morning's
Work; but how pleasantlie! Besides, as _Father_ sayth, "Varietie is not
always Interruption. That which occasionallie lets and hinders our
accustomed Studdies, may prove to the ingenious noe less profitable
than theire Studdies themselves."
They beganne with discussing the Pronunciation of Latin and Greek,
on which _Erasmus_ differeth much from us, though he holds to our
Pronunciation of the _Theta_. Thence, to the absurde Partie of the
_Ciceronians_ now in _Italie_, who will admit noe Author save _Tully_
to be read nor quoted, nor any Word not in his Writings to be used.
Thence to the Latinitie of the _Fathers_, of whose Style he spake
slightlie enow, but rated _Jerome_ above _Augustine_. At length, to his
_Greek_ and _Latin Testament_, of late issued from the Presse, and the
incredible Labour it hath cost him to make it as perfect as possible:
on this Subject he so warmed that _Bess_ and I listened with suspended
Breath. "May it please GOD," sayth he, knitting ferventlie his Hands,
"to make it a Blessing to all Christendom! I look for noe other Reward.
Scholars and Believers yet unborn may have Reason to thank, and yet
may forget _Erasmus_." He then went on to explain to _Gunnel_ what he
had much felt in want of, and hoped some Scholar might yet undertake;
to wit, a Sort of _Index Bibliorum_, showing in how manie Passages of
Holy Writ occurreth anie given Word, etc.; and he e'en proposed it to
_Gunnel_, saying 'twas onlie the Work of Patience and Industry, and
mighte be layd aside, and resumed as Occasion offered, and completed at
Leisure, to the great Thankfullenesse of Scholars. But _Gunnel_ onlie
smiled and shooke his Head. Howbeit, _Erasmus_ set forth his Scheme
soe playnlie, that I, having a Pen in Hand, did privilie note down
alle the Heads of the same, thinking, if none else would undertake it,
why should not I? since Leisure and Industrie were alone required, and
since 'twoulde be soe acceptable to manie, 'speciallie to _Erasmus_.
_June 29th._
Hearde _Mother_ say to _Barbara_, "Be sure the Sirloin is well basted
for the King's Physician;" which avised me that Dr. _Linacre_ was
expected. In Truth, he returned with _Father_ in the Barge; and they
tooke a Turn on the River Bank before sitting down to Table. I noted
them from my Lattice; and anon, _Father_, beckoning me, cries, "Child,
bring out my favourite Treatyse on Fisshynge, printed by _Wynkyn de
Worde_; I must give the Doctor my loved Passage."
Joyning 'em with the Booke, I found _Father_ telling him of the Roach,
Dace, Chub, Barbel, etc., we oft catch opposite the Church; and
hastilie turning over the Leaves, he beginneth with Unction to read the
Passage ensuing, which I love to the full as much as he:--
He observeth, if the Angler's Sport shoulde fail him, "he at the best
hathe his holsom Walk and mery at his Ease, a swete Ayre of the swete
Savour of the Meade of Flowers, that maketh him hungry; he heareth the
melodious Harmonie of Fowles, he seeth the young Swans, Herons, Ducks,
Cotes, and manie other Fowles, with theire Broods, which me seemeth
better than alle the Noise of Hounds, Faukenors, and Fowlers can make.
And if the Angler take Fysshe, then there is noe Man merrier than he
is in his Spryte." And, "Ye shall not use this foresaid crafty Disporte
for no covetysnesse in the encreasing and sparing of your Money onlie,
but pryncipallie for your Solace, and to cause the Health of your
Bodie, and speciallie of your Soule, for when ye purpose to goe on your
Disportes of Fysshynge, ye will not desire greatlie manie Persons with
you, which woulde lett you of your Game. And thenne ye may serve GOD
devoutlie, in saying affectuouslie your customable Prayer; and thus
doing, ye shall eschew and voyd manie Vices."
[Illustration: More reading Wynkyn de Worde.]
"Angling is itselfe a Vice," cries _Erasmus_, from the Thresholde; "for
my Part I will fish none, save and except for pickled Oysters."
"In the Regions below," answers _Father_; and then laughinglie tells
_Linacre_ of his firste Dialogue with _Erasmus_, who had beene
feasting in my Lord Mayor's Cellar:--"'Whence come you?' 'From below.'
'What were they about there?' 'Eating live Oysters, and drinking out of
Leather Jacks.' 'Either you are _Erasmus_,' etc. 'Either you are _More_
or Nothing.'"
"'Neither more nor less,' you should have rejoyned," sayth the Doctor.
"How I wish I had!" says _Father_; "don't torment me with a Jest I
might have made and did not make; 'speciallie to put downe _Erasmus_."
"_Concedo nulli_," sayth _Erasmus_.
"Why are you so lazy?" asks _Linacre_; "I am sure you can speak English
if you will."
"Soe far from it," sayth _Erasmus_, "that I made my Incapacitie
an Excuse for declining an English Rectory. Albeit, you know how
_Wareham_ requited me; saying, in his kind, generous Way, I served the
Church more by my Pen than I coulde by preaching Sermons in a countrie
Village."
Sayth _Linacre_, "The Archbishop hath made another Remark, as much to
the Purpose: to wit, that he has received from you the Immortalitie
which Emperors and Kings cannot bestow."
"They cannot even bid a smoking Sirloin retain its Heat an Hour after
it hath left the Fire," sayth _Father_. "Tilly-vally! as my good
_Alice_ says,--let us remember the universal Doom, '_Fruges consumere
nati_,' and philosophize over our Ale and Bracket."
"Not _Cambridge_ Ale, neither," sayth _Erasmus_.
"Will you never forget that unlucky Beverage?" sayth _Father_. "Why,
Man, think how manie poor Scholars there be, that content themselves,
as I have hearde one of St. _John's_ declare, with a penny piece of
Beef amongst four, stewed into Pottage with a little Salt and Oatmeal;
and that after fasting from four o'clock in the Morning! Say Grace for
us this Daye, _Erasmus_, with goode Heart."
At Table, Discourse flowed soe thicke and faste that I mighte aim
in vayn to chronicle it--and why should I? dwelling as I doe at the
Fountayn Head? Onlie that I find Pleasure, alreadie, in glancing over
the foregoing Pages whensoever they concern _Father_ and _Erasmus_, and
wish they were more faithfullie recalled and better writ. One Thing
sticks by me,--a funny Reply of _Father's_ to a Man who owed him Money
and who put him off with "_Memento Morieris_." "I bid you," retorted
_Father_, "_Memento Mori Æris_, and I wish you woulde take as goode
Care to provide for the one as I do for the other."
_Linacre_ laughed much at this, and sayd,--"That was real Wit; a Spark
struck at the Moment; and with noe Ill-nature in it, for I am sure your
Debtor coulde not help laughing."
"Not he," quoth _Erasmus_. "_More's_ Drollerie is like that of a young
Gentlewoman of his Name, which shines without burning," ... and, oddlie
enow, he looked acrosse at _me_. I am sure he meant _Bess_.
_July 1st._
_Father_ broughte home a strange Guest to-daye,--a converted _Jew_,
with grizzlie Beard, furred Gown, and Eyes that shone like Lamps lit
in dark Cavernes. He had beene to _Benmarine_ and _Tremeçen_, to the
_Holie Citie_ and to _Damascus_, to _Urmia_ and _Assyria_, and I think
alle over the knowne World; and tolde us manie strange Tales, one
hardlie knew how to believe; as, for Example, of a Sea-coast Tribe,
called the _Balouches_, who live on Fish and build theire Dwellings of
the Bones. Alsoe, of a Race of his Countriemen beyond _Euphrates_ who
believe in _Christ_, but know nothing of the Pope; and of whom were
the Magians that followed the Star. This agreeth not with our Legend.
He averred that, though soe far apart from theire Brethren, theire
Speech was the same, and even theire Songs; and he sang or chaunted
one which he sayd was common among the Jews alle over the World, and
had beene soe ever since theire Citie was ruinated and the People
captivated, and yet it was never sett down in Prick-song. _Erasmus_,
who knows little or nought of Hebrew, listened to the Words with
Curiositie, and made him repeate them twice or thrice: and though I
know not the Character, it seemed to me they sounded thus:--
_Adir Hu yivne bethcha beccaro,
El, b'ne; El, b'ne; El, b'ne;
Bethcha beccaro._
[Illustration: The Jew.]
Though Christianish, he woulde not eat Pig's Face; and sayd Swine's
Flesh was forbidden by the Hebrew Law for its unwholesomenesse in
hot Countries and hot Weather, rather than by way of arbitrarie
Prohibition. _Daisy_ took a great Dislike to this Man, and woulde not
sit next him.
In the Hay-field alle the Evening. Swathed _Father_ in a Hay-rope,
and made him pay the Fine, which he pretended to resist. _Cecy_ was
just about to cast one round _Erasmus_, when her Heart failed and she
ran away, colouring to the Eyes. He sayd, he never saw such pretty
Shame. _Father_ reclining on the Hay, with his Head on my Lap and his
Eyes shut, _Bess_ asked if he were asleep. He made answer, "Yes, and
dreaming." I askt, "Of what?" "Of a far-off future Daye, _Meg_; when
thou and I shall looke back on this Hour, and this Hay-field, and my
Head on thy Lap."
"Nay, but what a stupid Dream, Mr. _More_," says _Mother_. "Why, what
woulde _you_ dreame of, Mrs. _Alice_?" "Forsooth, if I dreamed at alle,
when I was wide awake, it shoulde be of being _Lord Chancellor_ at the
leaste." "Well, Wife, I forgive thee for not saying at the _most_. Lord
Chancellor, quotha! And you woulde be Dame _Alice_, I trow, and ride in
a Whirlecote, and keep a Spanish Jennet, and a Couple of Greyhounds,
and wear a Train before and behind, and carry a Jerfalcon on your
Fist." "On my Wrist." "No, that's not such a pretty Word as t'other! Go
to, go!"
Straying from the others, to a remote Corner of the Meadow, or ever I
was aware, I came close upon _Gammer Gurney_, holding Somewhat with
much Care. "Give ye good den, Mistress _Meg_," quoth she, "I cannot
abear to rob the Birds of theire Nests; but I knows you and yours be
kind to dumb Creatures, soe here's a Nest o' young Owzels for ye--and
I can't call 'em dumb nowther, for they'll sing bravelie some o' these
Days." "How hast fared, of late, _Gammer_?" quoth I. "Why, well enow
for such as I," she made Answer; "since I lost the Use o' my right
Hand, I can nowther spin, nor nurse sick Folk, but I pulls Rushes, and
that brings me a few Pence, and I be a good Herbalist; onlie, because
I says one or two English Prayers, and hates the Priests, some Folks
thinks me a Witch." "But why dost hate the Priests?" quoth I. "Never
you mind," she gave Answer, "I've Reasons manie; and for my English
Prayers, they were taught me by a Gentleman I nursed, that's now a
Saint in Heaven, along with poor _Joan_."
And soe she hobbled off, and I felt kindlie towards her, I scarce knew
why--perhaps because she spake soe lovingly of her dead Sister, and
because of that Sister's Name. _My_ Mother's Name was _Joan_.
_July 2nd._
_Erasmus_ is gone. His last Saying to _Father_ was, "They will have you
at Court yet;" and _Father's_ Answer, "When _Plato's_ Year comes round."
To me he gave a Copy, how precious! of his Testament. "You are an
elegant Latinist, _Margaret_," he was pleased to say, "but, if you
woulde drink deeplie of the Well-springs of Wisdom, applie to Greek.
The Latins have onlie shallow Rivulets; the Greeks, copious Rivers,
running over Sands of Gold. Read _Plato_; he wrote on Marble, with a
Diamond; but above alle, read the New Testament. 'Tis the Key to the
Kingdom of Heaven."
To Mr. _Gunnel_, he said smiling, "Have a Care of thyself, dear
_Gonellus_, and take a little Wine for thy Stomach's Sake. The Wages of
most Scholars now-a-days, are weak Eyes, Ill-health, an empty Purse,
and shorte Commons. I neede only bid thee beware of the two first."
To _Bess_, "Farewell, _Bessy_; thank you for mending my bad Latin. When
I write to you, I will be sure to signe myselfe, '_Roterodamius_.'
Farewell, sweete _Cecil_; let me always continue your 'desired
Amiable.' And you, _Jacky_,--love your Book a little more."
"_Jack's_ deare Mother, not content with her Girls," sayth _Father_,
"was alwaies wishing for a Boy, and at last she had one that means to
remain a Boy alle his Life."
"The Dutch Schoolmasters thoughte _me_ dulle and heavie," sayth
_Erasmus_, "soe there is some Hope of _Jacky_ yet." And soe, stepped
into the Barge, which we watched to _Chelsea Reach_. How dulle the
House has beene ever since! _Rupert_ and _William_ have had me into
the Pavillion to hear the Plot of a Miracle-play they have alreadie
begunne to talke over for _Christmasse_, but it seemed to me downrighte
Rubbish. _Father_ sleepes in Town to-nighte, soe we shall be stupid
enow. _Bessy_ hath undertaken to work _Father_ a Slipper for his tender
Foot; and is happie, tracing for the Pattern our three Moorcocks and
Colts; but I am idle and tiresome.
If I had Paper, I woulde beginne my projected _Opus_; but I dare not
ask _Gunnel_ for anie more just yet; nor have anie Money to buy Some.
I wish I had a couple of Angels. I think I shall write to _Father_ for
them to-morrow; he alwaies likes to heare from us if he is twenty-four
Hours absent, providing we conclude not with "I have Nothing more to
say."
_July 4th._
I have writ my Letter to _Father_. I almoste wish, now, that I had not
sent it.
_Rupert_ and _Will_ still full of theire Moralitie, which reallie has
some Fun in it. To ridicule the Extravagance of those who, as the
Saying is, carry theire Farms and Fields on theire Backs, _William_
proposes to come in, all verdant, with a reall Model of a Farm on his
Back, and a Windmill on his Head.
_July 5th._
How sweete, how gracious an Answer from _Father_! _John Harris_ has
broughte me with it the two Angels; less prized than this Epistle.
_July 10th._
Sixteenth Birthdaye. _Father_ away, which made it sadde. _Mother_
gave me a payr of blue Hosen with Silk Clocks; Mr. _Gunnel_, an
ivorie-handled Stylus; _Bess_, a Bodkin for my Hair; _Daisy_, a
Book-mark; _Mercy_, a Saffron Cake; _Jack_, a Basket; and _Cecil_, a
Nosegay. _William's_ Present was fayrest of alle, but I am hurte with
him and myselfe; for he offered it soe queerlie and tagged it with such
... I refused it, and there's an End. 'Twas unmannerlie and unkinde of
me, and I've cried aboute it since.
_Father_ alwaies gives us a Birthdaye Treat; soe, contrived that
_Mother_ shoulde take us to see my _Lord Cardinal_ of _York_ goe to
_Westminster_ in State. We had a merrie Water-partie; got goode Places
and saw the Show; Crosse-bearers, Pillar-bearers, Ushers and alle.
Himselfe in crimson engrayned Sattin, and Tippet of Sables, with an
Orange in his Hand helde to 's Nose, as though the common Ayr were too
vile to breathe. What a pompous Priest it is! The Archbishop mighte
well say, "That Man is drunk with too much Prosperitie."
[Illustration: The Cardinal's Procession.]
Betweene Dinner and Supper, we had a fine Skirmish in the Straits
of Thermopylæ. Mr. _Gunnel_ headed the Persians, and _Will_ was
_Leonidas_, with a swashing Buckler, and a Helmet a Yard high; but Mr.
_Gunnel_ gave him such a Rap on the Crest that it went over the Wall;
soe then _William_ thought there was Nothing left for him but to die.
Howbeit, as he had beene layd low sooner than he had reckoned on, he
prolonged his last Agonies a goode deal, and gave one of the Persians
a tremendous Kick just as they were aboute to rifle his Pouch. They
therefore thoughte there must be Somewhat in it they shoulde like to
see; soe, helde him down in spite of his hitting righte and lefte, and
pulled therefrom, among sundrie lesser Matters, a carnation Knot of
mine. Poor Varlet, I wish he would not be so stupid.
After Supper, _Mother_ proposed a Concert; and we were alle singing
a Rounde, when, looking up, I saw _Father_ standing in the Door-way,
with such a happy Smile on his Face! He was close behind _Rupert_ and
_Daisy_, who were singing from the same Book, and advertised them of
his Coming by gentlie knocking theire Heads together; but I had the
firste Kiss, even before _Mother_, because of my Birthdaye.
_July 11th._
It turns out that _Father's_ Lateness Yester-even was caused by Press
of Businesse; a forayn Mission having beene proposed to him, which he
resisted as long as he could, but was at length reluctantlie induced to
accept. Lengthe of his Stay uncertayn, which casts a Gloom on alle; but
there is soe much to doe as to leave little Time to think, and _Father_
is busiest of alle; yet hath founde Leisure to concert with Mother for
us a Journey into the Country, which will occupy some of the Weeks of
his Absence. I am fulle of carefulle Thoughts and Forebodings, being
naturallie of too anxious a Disposition. Oh, let me caste alle my Cares
on another! _Fecisti nos ad te, Domine; et inquietum est cor nostrum,
donec requiescat in te._
[Illustration]
_May 27th, 1523._
'Tis soe manie Months agone since that I made an Entry in my
_Libellus_, as that my Motto, "_Nulla Dies sine Linea_," hath somewhat
of Sarcasm in it. How manie Things doe I beginne and leave unfinisht!
and yet, less from Caprice than Lack of Strength; like him of whom the
Scripture was writ,--"This Man beganne to build and was not able to
finish." My _Opus_, for instance; the which my _Father's_ prolonged
Absence in the Autumn, and my Winter Visitt to Aunt _Nan_ and Aunt
_Fan_ gave me such Leisure to carrie forward. But alack! Leisure was
less to seeke than Learninge; and when I came back to mine olde Taskes,
Leisure was awanting too; and then, by reason of my sleeping in a
separate Chamber, I was enabled to steale Hours from the earlie Morn
and Hours from the Night, and, like unto _Solomon's_ virtuous Woman, my
Candle went not out. But 'twas not to Purpose that I worked, like the
virtuous Woman, for I was following a Jack-o-Lantern; having forsooke
the straight Path laid downe by _Erasmus_ for a foolish Path of mine
owne; and soe I toyled, and blundered, and puzzled, and was mazed; and
then came on that Payn in my Head. _Father_ sayd, "What makes _Meg_ soe
pale?" and I sayd not: and, at the last, I tolde _Mother_ there was
somewhat throbbing and twisting in the Back of mine Head, like unto a
little Worm that woulde not die; and she made Answer, "Ah, a Maggot,"
and soe by her Scoff I was shamed. Then I gave over mine _Opus_,
but the Payn did not yet goe; soe then I was longing for the deare
Pleasure, and fondlie turning over the Leaves, and wondering woulde
_Father_ be surprised and pleased with it some Daye, when _Father_
himself came in or ever I was aware. He sayth, "What hast thou, _Meg_?"
I faltered and woulde sett it aside. He sayth, "Nay, let me see;"
and soe takes it from me; and after the firste Glance throws himself
into a Seat, his Back to me, and firste runs it hastilie through,
then beginnes with Methode and such Silence and Gravitie as that I
trembled at his Side, and felt what it must be to stand a Prisoner at
the Bar, and he the Judge. Sometimes I thought he must be pleased, at
others not: at lengthe, alle my fond Hopes were ended by his crying,
"This will never doe. Poor Wretch, hath this then beene thy Toyl? How
couldst find Time for soe much Labour? for here hath beene Trouble
enow and to spare. Thou must have stolen it, sweet _Meg_, from the
Night, and prevented the Morning Watch. Most dear'st! thy _Father's_
owne loved Child;" and soe, caressing me till I gave over my Shame and
Disappointment.
"I neede not to tell thee, _Meg_," _Father_ sayth, "of the unprofitable
Labour of _Sisyphus_, nor of drawing Water in a Sieve. There are some
Things, most deare one, that a Woman, if she trieth, may doe as well as
a Man; and some she cannot, and some she had better not. Now, I tell
thee firmlie, since the firste Payn is the leaste sharpe, that, despite
the Spiritt and Genius herein shewn, I am avised 'tis Work thou canst
not and Work thou hadst better not doe. But judge for thyselfe; if
thou wilt persist, thou shalt have Leisure and Quiet, and a Chamber in
my new Building, and alle the Help my Gallery of Books may afford. But
thy Father says, Forbear."