ST. IVAN'S WARNING.
Silence prevailed amongst the guests as the venerable prelate rose to
reply. Looks, yes, fiery looks, shot to the head of that board
against the learned Latimer; and even Lord De Freston, with all his
well-known bounty, liberality, orthodoxy, and piety, did not escape
the furious glances of St. Peter's priests; nor of the violent
advocates for the Pope's supremacy. They gnashed upon him with their
teeth; and could have wept for very vexation. So serious did the
matter seem, that there were many peaceful townsmen who wished most
heartily that they were at home with their wives and children,
instead of being witnesses of this unbecoming hospitality.
The Bishop, with great knowledge of the world--a truly liberal heart,
yet not without deep prejudices, which in that day were not so easily
subdued as in this, replied:
'I have ever considered it one of the best privileges of my palace of
Wykes, that here the stranger may speak unmolested, that we may all
reap the benefit of each other's experience in learning, science,
travel, or the wonders of nature, art, or industry. On this account
has the hospitality of this roof been devoted to the purposes of an
open free court; wherein as long as men behave themselves with
courtesy, so long shall they and their communications be respected.
'It has been my lot, frequently, to hear interesting discussions upon
science, upon the ancient interpretation of words. Frequently, both
naval and military works have been propounded, the uses of the
rudder, and very lately, that new and wonderful invention, the
compass. The discoveries of distant shores have been spoken of; the
manners, arts, customs, and peculiarities of people scarcely heard of
before are made familiar to us; and we have all participated in the
interesting information.
'The very openness of my table has afforded the power to suppress
mere hearsay reports of things, and to bring forward those that are
trustworthy. But nothing has so much puzzled the brains of many
leading liberal men, as the now rising discussions upon the subject
of religion.
'Each speaker claims for himself sincerity, and we are bound to
respect what he says as coming from a heart devoted to a holy cause.
Yet how opposite do I find the tendencies of both. On one side it is
maintained that the Scriptures should be freely given to the people,
and be expanded as the waters of the broad sea over the earth.
Another maintains that it is unprofitable so to do; that the
Scriptures should be confined to the contemplation of the learned; so
that the priesthood alone should be the readers, preachers, and
expounders thereof, and that the people should he hearers and doers.
'Now there is much truth in both these positions. We well know that
if one nation goes to war with another, that which has the best
disciplined army will generally prevail. If soldiers were to fight
just as they pleased, and be under no orders from their superior
officers, they would soon be but a rabble route, and be easily
defeated by steady and well-conducted troops. If battles are to be
fought, it is evident there must be command and a commander;
obedience and men to observe it. Mutual confidence is necessary to
ultimate success. Even officers have to obey their superiors, and
though each must rely on the aid of Heaven for success, yet each must
obey some superior on earth.
'So do I maintain that obedience is necessary in every department of
the church, and that if the spread of the Scriptures among the people
shall tend to disaffection instead of obedience, we do wisely to keep
the records of religion confined to the knowledge of the priesthood.
'My opinion, therefore, is given freely upon this subject. It is our
duty to obey the Pope as our chief commanding officer, who holds his
head-quarters at Rome. Your officers receive their commissions from
him, and are responsible for their obedience to him. And, as one of
his marshals, I command you to keep holy your sacred vow of
obedience, and to fight the fight of faith under his banners.
'I do not see that Wolsey should have any weight whatever in the
councils of the church. He is, no doubt, a good and clever young
man; and is held in very proper estimation among his friends in this,
his native place; but others in the church are as good and wise as
he, and their judgment is not to be despised. Older heads opine that
it is not at all necessary to salvation that a man should read the
Scriptures; and I, for one, think if the people are thereby to be
stirred up to rebellion, they had better never read them at all.
'We do not intend to cite you, Bale and Bilney, to our court, at
Norwich, to answer for the dissemination of doctrines which we deem
calculated to stir up strife and contention in the church. Nor thee,
Latimer, for thy harsh declarations against the Prior and monks of
St. Edmund's Bury, albeit we do seriously admonish thee not to let
words of indiscretion escape thy lips. To all we freely extend the
customary privileges of the Palace of Wykes, and declare that you are
irresponsible for your expressions here this day, but I warn you to
beware how you take advantage of this custom only to lie here
observed, and venture to express these vague opinions in the world.
'We command you, by virtue of our ecclesiastical authority, to spread
no more those doctrines which we do consider tending to mutiny in our
camp, and exhort you as good soldiers to keep your ranks free from
disaffection.
'Though we freely pardon the errors of all this day, and shall
dismiss you in peace to your respective homes; yet we are assured,
that if these contentions should continue beyond these walls, some
delegate from Rome will receive ample powers to punish all refractory
children who may provoke the displeasure of the Holy See. We spare
you now, and bid you all obey, and all farewell.'
At the very instant in which the Bishop rose to depart, a voice from
without exclaimed--'Make way for the Hermit St. Ivan!' and, with
breathless agitation, the venerable old man strode up to that part of
the hall directly opposite the Bishop. It was evident to every one
that he was fatigued with over exertion. He leaned against a pillar,
as if to recover himself--refused to be seated, though he kept every
one standing around him. He twice essayed to speak--lifted his arms
to heaven, and demanded, by his actions, that they would pause a
moment to hear him.
The sight of the man was enough to interest any one. His head
uncovered, his staff in his hand, his eye beaming with philanthropy,
though evidently excited by his intended communication. He had,
indeed, hurried into the hall, he had seen the vibrations of the
waters, and knew that the walls of Wykes' Bishop's Palace could not
stand long. He knew, likewise, that unless he could deliver himself
in an authoritative and alarming manner, that many souls must perish.
He had no desire they should, and therefore he assumed a sort of
prophetical manner of address which the imminence of the danger alone
warranted.
His warning is given in such quaint, old poetry, and is yet so
forcible, that to narrate it in a set speech would destroy its
effect; and to give it in its old style would be tedious to the
reader. He must pardon, therefore, its transposition into language
more in accordance with modern phraseology, though, perhaps, not so
genuinely characteristic of the hermit.
St. Ivan's Warning.
'The time is come, proud Goldwell, hear?
I speak to thee no more with fear!
Though round thee shining lords attend
And priests with burgesses may blend;
And haughty in thy palace fair,
Alice De Clinton has her share,
And mocks to scorn whoe'er she will,
And bids the hermit's voice be still.
I bid her listen to my lay,
I call her from this scene away;
And tell both thee and her and all,
They must obey the hermit's call.
'The time is come! the warning lake
Already doth the palace shake.
There stands by thee the haughty maid
Whose pride and cruelty are said
To govern thee and urge thee on
To deeds no bishop yet hath done.
The poor despise her though they bow
In fear of frowns from such a brow.
I, too, have felt within my cell
Her hate can burn as demon's spell;
For none who humbly live to love,
To her can acceptable prove;
And were not here a better found,
These walls would tremble to the ground.
But her I warn to haste away,
Nor longer in this palace stay,
Lest she and thee, and hers and thine,
Be buried by St. Agnes' shrine.
'The time is come--the doom is spoken,
Spells of life and charms are broken;
And thou mayst live as yet thy day,
But here thy bones thou shalt not lay!
No more on thee, Wykes' Bishop's Hill,
With verdure green find pleasant rill,
Shall smile upon thy turrets' dome,
Nor more to thee thy people come
To meet thee in this place of peace;
Its pleasant days must quickly cease;
And men from yonder hill shall say,
"How soon does grandeur pass away!
There stood in state Wykes' Bishop's Hall,
How sudden was its rise and fall."
'The time is come; I look around
On those who now within are found;
De Freston, hasten thou away,
Nor let thy maiden longer stay.
Lest thou shouldst rue the hapless hour
Thou didst forsake thy lofty tower,
And seek to minister thine aid
Of friendship to a haughty maid.
Go! haste away. Oh, couldst thou tell
How deeply in my lowly cell
I oft have prayed for thee and thine,
Thou wouldst respect the hermit's shrine.
The time is come! fair maid of peace,
Ellen De Freston, thy release
From danger here will only prove
A greater danger in thy love.
But haste away! thou dost not know
The anger of thy deadly foe.
The time is come! Good townsmen flee.
These walls are tottering, and must be
Known as a place of midnight feast,
Where owls and bats by day will rest.
But never more will matin bell,
Or vespers' sound, be heard to tell
Wykes' Bishop's priests the anthem raise,
A duty to the saints they praise;
But bell and belfry both shall fall
Before another matin's call.
'The time is come, thou haughty maid,
Whose eye now shining on the dead,
With stain of pride and cruel scorn,
Falls not on one who feels forlorn.
Thou'lt feel the loftiness of pride
When raised, unknown, unseen, denied.
Thou think'st thyself to be a queen,
And com'st to nothing in thy spleen!
He comes to raise, and take thee home:
Proud maid he comes--the time--'
The old man's voice here totally failed him. A pallid hue was seen
to spread itself over his countenance, which underwent a complete
change. His head fell gently back against the stone pillar, and the
hermit St. Ivan stood a corpse in the hall of Wykes' Bishop's Palace.
At the same moment, the glass of those beautiful windows cracked from
the very top of the arch to the bottom, and fell inwards--a tumbling;
noise was heard--the outer walls fell down; and bishop, lord, lady,
priest, burgess, townsman, visitor, monk, traveller, friar, and
mendicant, together with porter, warder, serving-men, and slaves, all
fled in terror over the drawbridge, leaving St. Ivan standing against
the pillar, the only one who was unconscious of fear, inasmuch as he
was dead.