Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century by Georgiana Fullerton
friend having embarked her whole freight ofhappiness in a frail vessel launched on that stormy sea of the court,so full of shoals and quicksands, whereby many a fair ship was dailychanced to be therein wrecked.
Nothing notable of this kind had been mentioned on the day I speak of,which, howsoever, proved a very notable one to me. For after I hadbeen in the house a short time there came there one not known, and yetit should seem not wholly unknown to me; for that I did discover inhis shape and countenance something not unfamiliar, albeit I could notcall to mind that I had ever seen this gentleman before. I asked hisname of a young lady who sat near to me, and she said she thought heshould be the elder brother of Mr. Hubert Rookwood, who was lodging inthe house, and that she heard he tabled there also since he had cometo town, and that he was a very commendable person, above the commonsort, albeit not one of such great parts as his brother. Then I didinstantly take note of the likeness between the brothers which hadmade the elder's face not strange to me, as also perhaps that onesight of him I had at Bedford some years before. Their visages werevery like; but their figures and mostly their countenances different.I cannot say wherein that great differency did lie; but methinks everyone must have seen, or rather felt it. Basil was the tallest and thehandsomest of the twain. I will not be so great a prodigal of time asto bestow it on commendations of his outward appearance whose inwardexcellences were his chiefest merit. Howsoever, I be minded to setdown in this place somewhat touching his appearance; as it may sohappen that some who read this history, and who have known and lovedBasil in his old years, should take as much pleasure in reading as Ido in writing the description of his person, and limning as it werethe resemblance of him at a period in this history wherein thehitherto separate currents of his life and mine do meet, like a nobleriver and a poor stream, for to flow onward in the same channel.
Basil Rookwood was of a tall stature, and well-proportioned shape inall parts. His hair of light brown, very thickly set, and of a sunnyhue, curled with a graceful wave. His head had many becoming motions.His mouth was well-made, and his lips ruddy. His forehead not veryhigh, in which was a notable dissemblance from his brother. His noseraised and somewhat sharply cut. His complexion clear and rosy; hissmile so full of cheer and kindliness that it infected others withmirthfulness. He was very nimble and active in all his movements, andwell skilled in riding, fencing, and dancing. I pray you who haveknown him in his late years, can you in aught, save in a never-alteredsweetness mixing with the dignity of age, trace in this picture alikeness to Basil, your Basil and mine?
I care not, in writing this plain showing of mine own life, to usesuch disguises as are observed in love-stories, whereby the reader iskept ignorant of that which is to follow until in due time the courseof the tale doth unfold it. No, I may not write Basil's name as thatof a stranger. Not for the space of one page; nay, not with so much asone stroke of my pen can I dissemble the love which had its dawn onthe day I have noted. It was sudden in its beginnings, yet steady inits progress. It deepened and widened with the course of years, evenas a rivulet doth start with a lively force from its source, and,gathering strength as it flows, grows into a broad and noble river. Itwas ardent but not idolatrous; sudden, as I have said, in its rise,but not unconsidered. It was founded on high esteem on the one side,on the other an inexpressible tenderness and kindness. Religion,honor, and duty were the cements of this love. No blind dotage; but adeathless bond of true sympathy, making that equal which in itself wasunequal; for, if a vain world should have deemed that on the one sidethere did appear some greater brilliancy of parts than showed in theother, all who could judge of true merit and sound wisdom must needshave allowed that in true merit Basil was as greatly her superior whomhe honored with his love, as is a pure diamond to the showy settingwhich encases it.
Hubert presented to me his brother, who, when he heard my namementioned, would not be contented till he had got speech of me; andstraightway, after the first civilities had passed between us, beganto relate to me that he had been staying for a few days before comingto town at Mr. Roper's house at Richmond, where I had often visited inthe summer. It so befel that I had left in the chamber where I sleptsome of my books, on the margins of which were written such notes as Iwas wont to make whilst reading, for so Hubert had advised me, and hiscounsel in this I found very profitable; for this method teaches oneto reflect on what he reads, and to hold converse as it were withauthors whose friendship and company he thus enjoys, which is a sourceof contentment more sufficient and lasting than most other pleasuresin this world.
Basil chanced to inhabit this room, and discovered on an odd by-shelfthese volumes so disfigured, or, as he said, so adorned; and took suchdelight in the reading of them, but mostly in the poor reflections anunknown pen had affixed to these pages, that he rested not until hehad learnt from Mr. Roper the name of the writer. When he found shewas the young girl he had once seen at Bedford, he marvelled at thestrong impulse he had toward her, and pressed the venerable gentlemanwith so many questions relating to her that he feared he should havewearied him but his inquiries met with such gracious answers that heperceived Mr. Roper to be as well pleased with the theme of hisdiscourse as himself, and as glad to set forth her excellences (Ibe ashamed to write the words which should indeed imply the speaker tohave been in his dotage, but for the excuse of a too great kindness toan unworthy creature) as he had to listen to them. And here I mustneeds interrupt my narrative to admire that one who was no scholar,yea, no great reader at any time, albeit endowed with excellent goodsense and needful information, should by means of books have beendrawn to the first thoughts of her who was to enjoy his love whichnever was given to any other creature but herself. But I pray you,doth it not happen most often, though it is scarce to be credited,that dissemblance in certain matters doth attract in the way of lovemore than resemblance? That short men do choose tall wives; lovers ofmusic women who have no ear to discern one tune from another; scholarswitless housewives; retired men ambitious helpmates; and gay ladiesgrave husbands? This should seem to be the rule, otherways theexception; and a notable instance of the same I find in the firstmotions which did incline Basil to a good opinion of my poor self.
But to return. "Mistress Sherwood," quoth Basil, "Mr. Roper did notwholly praise you; he recited your faults as well as your virtues."
I answered, it did very much content me he should have done so, forthat then more credit should be given to his words in that wherein hedid commend me, since he was so true a friend as to note my defects.
"But what," quoth he, archly smiling, "if the faults he named are suchas pleased me as well as virtues?"
"Then," I replied, "methinks, sir, the fault should be rather in youthan in her who doth commit them, for she may be ignorant, or elsesubject to some infirmity of temper; but to commend faults should be avery dangerous error."
"But will you hear," quoth he, "your faults as Mr. Roper recitedthem?"
"Yea, willingly," I answered, "and mend them also if I can."
"Oh, I pray you mend them not," he cried.
At which I laughed, and said he should be ashamed to give such wantonadvice. And then he:
"Mr. Roper declares you have so much inability to conceal yourthoughts that albeit your lips should be forcibly closed, your eyeswould speak them so clearly that any one who listed should read them."
"Methinks," I said, willing to excuse myself like the lawyer in thegospel, "that should not be my fault, who made not mine own eyes."
"Then he also says, that you have so sharp an apprehension of wrongsdone to others, that if you hear of an injustice committed, or somecruel treatment of any one, you are so moved and troubled, that he hasknown you on such occasions to shed tears, which do not flow with alike ease for your own griefs. Do you cry mercy to this accusation,Mistress Sherwood?"
"Indeed," I answered, "God knoweth I do, and my ghostly father also.For the strong passions of resentment touching the evil usage ourCatholics do meet with work in me so mightfully, that I often am indoubt i
f I have sinned therein. And concerning mine own griefs, theyhave been but few as yet, so that 'tis little praise I deserve for notovermuch resentment in instances wherein, if others are afflicted, Ihave much ado to restrain wrath."
"Ah," he said, "methinks if you answer in so true and grave a mannermy rude catechizing. Mistress Sherwood, I be not bold enough tocontinue the inventory of your faults."
"I pray you do," I answered; for I felt in my soul an unusual likingfor his conversation, and the more so when, leaving off jesting, hesaid, "The last fault Mr. Roper did charge you with was lack ofprudence in matters wherein prudence is most needed in these days."
"Alas!" I exclaimed; "for that also do I cry mercy; but indeed, MasterRookwood, there is in these days so much cowardice and time-servingwhich doth
Nothing notable of this kind had been mentioned on the day I speak of,which, howsoever, proved a very notable one to me. For after I hadbeen in the house a short time there came there one not known, and yetit should seem not wholly unknown to me; for that I did discover inhis shape and countenance something not unfamiliar, albeit I could notcall to mind that I had ever seen this gentleman before. I asked hisname of a young lady who sat near to me, and she said she thought heshould be the elder brother of Mr. Hubert Rookwood, who was lodging inthe house, and that she heard he tabled there also since he had cometo town, and that he was a very commendable person, above the commonsort, albeit not one of such great parts as his brother. Then I didinstantly take note of the likeness between the brothers which hadmade the elder's face not strange to me, as also perhaps that onesight of him I had at Bedford some years before. Their visages werevery like; but their figures and mostly their countenances different.I cannot say wherein that great differency did lie; but methinks everyone must have seen, or rather felt it. Basil was the tallest and thehandsomest of the twain. I will not be so great a prodigal of time asto bestow it on commendations of his outward appearance whose inwardexcellences were his chiefest merit. Howsoever, I be minded to setdown in this place somewhat touching his appearance; as it may sohappen that some who read this history, and who have known and lovedBasil in his old years, should take as much pleasure in reading as Ido in writing the description of his person, and limning as it werethe resemblance of him at a period in this history wherein thehitherto separate currents of his life and mine do meet, like a nobleriver and a poor stream, for to flow onward in the same channel.
Basil Rookwood was of a tall stature, and well-proportioned shape inall parts. His hair of light brown, very thickly set, and of a sunnyhue, curled with a graceful wave. His head had many becoming motions.His mouth was well-made, and his lips ruddy. His forehead not veryhigh, in which was a notable dissemblance from his brother. His noseraised and somewhat sharply cut. His complexion clear and rosy; hissmile so full of cheer and kindliness that it infected others withmirthfulness. He was very nimble and active in all his movements, andwell skilled in riding, fencing, and dancing. I pray you who haveknown him in his late years, can you in aught, save in a never-alteredsweetness mixing with the dignity of age, trace in this picture alikeness to Basil, your Basil and mine?
I care not, in writing this plain showing of mine own life, to usesuch disguises as are observed in love-stories, whereby the reader iskept ignorant of that which is to follow until in due time the courseof the tale doth unfold it. No, I may not write Basil's name as thatof a stranger. Not for the space of one page; nay, not with so much asone stroke of my pen can I dissemble the love which had its dawn onthe day I have noted. It was sudden in its beginnings, yet steady inits progress. It deepened and widened with the course of years, evenas a rivulet doth start with a lively force from its source, and,gathering strength as it flows, grows into a broad and noble river. Itwas ardent but not idolatrous; sudden, as I have said, in its rise,but not unconsidered. It was founded on high esteem on the one side,on the other an inexpressible tenderness and kindness. Religion,honor, and duty were the cements of this love. No blind dotage; but adeathless bond of true sympathy, making that equal which in itself wasunequal; for, if a vain world should have deemed that on the one sidethere did appear some greater brilliancy of parts than showed in theother, all who could judge of true merit and sound wisdom must needshave allowed that in true merit Basil was as greatly her superior whomhe honored with his love, as is a pure diamond to the showy settingwhich encases it.
Hubert presented to me his brother, who, when he heard my namementioned, would not be contented till he had got speech of me; andstraightway, after the first civilities had passed between us, beganto relate to me that he had been staying for a few days before comingto town at Mr. Roper's house at Richmond, where I had often visited inthe summer. It so befel that I had left in the chamber where I sleptsome of my books, on the margins of which were written such notes as Iwas wont to make whilst reading, for so Hubert had advised me, and hiscounsel in this I found very profitable; for this method teaches oneto reflect on what he reads, and to hold converse as it were withauthors whose friendship and company he thus enjoys, which is a sourceof contentment more sufficient and lasting than most other pleasuresin this world.
Basil chanced to inhabit this room, and discovered on an odd by-shelfthese volumes so disfigured, or, as he said, so adorned; and took suchdelight in the reading of them, but mostly in the poor reflections anunknown pen had affixed to these pages, that he rested not until hehad learnt from Mr. Roper the name of the writer. When he found shewas the young girl he had once seen at Bedford, he marvelled at thestrong impulse he had toward her, and pressed the venerable gentlemanwith so many questions relating to her that he feared he should havewearied him but his inquiries met with such gracious answers that heperceived Mr. Roper to be as well pleased with the theme of hisdiscourse as himself, and as glad to set forth her excellences (Ibe ashamed to write the words which should indeed imply the speaker tohave been in his dotage, but for the excuse of a too great kindness toan unworthy creature) as he had to listen to them. And here I mustneeds interrupt my narrative to admire that one who was no scholar,yea, no great reader at any time, albeit endowed with excellent goodsense and needful information, should by means of books have beendrawn to the first thoughts of her who was to enjoy his love whichnever was given to any other creature but herself. But I pray you,doth it not happen most often, though it is scarce to be credited,that dissemblance in certain matters doth attract in the way of lovemore than resemblance? That short men do choose tall wives; lovers ofmusic women who have no ear to discern one tune from another; scholarswitless housewives; retired men ambitious helpmates; and gay ladiesgrave husbands? This should seem to be the rule, otherways theexception; and a notable instance of the same I find in the firstmotions which did incline Basil to a good opinion of my poor self.
But to return. "Mistress Sherwood," quoth Basil, "Mr. Roper did notwholly praise you; he recited your faults as well as your virtues."
I answered, it did very much content me he should have done so, forthat then more credit should be given to his words in that wherein hedid commend me, since he was so true a friend as to note my defects.
"But what," quoth he, archly smiling, "if the faults he named are suchas pleased me as well as virtues?"
"Then," I replied, "methinks, sir, the fault should be rather in youthan in her who doth commit them, for she may be ignorant, or elsesubject to some infirmity of temper; but to commend faults should be avery dangerous error."
"But will you hear," quoth he, "your faults as Mr. Roper recitedthem?"
"Yea, willingly," I answered, "and mend them also if I can."
"Oh, I pray you mend them not," he cried.
At which I laughed, and said he should be ashamed to give such wantonadvice. And then he:
"Mr. Roper declares you have so much inability to conceal yourthoughts that albeit your lips should be forcibly closed, your eyeswould speak them so clearly that any one who listed should read them."
"Methinks," I said, willing to excuse myself like the lawyer in thegospel, "that should not be my fault, who made not mine own eyes."
"Then he also says, that you have so sharp an apprehension of wrongsdone to others, that if you hear of an injustice committed, or somecruel treatment of any one, you are so moved and troubled, that he hasknown you on such occasions to shed tears, which do not flow with alike ease for your own griefs. Do you cry mercy to this accusation,Mistress Sherwood?"
"Indeed," I answered, "God knoweth I do, and my ghostly father also.For the strong passions of resentment touching the evil usage ourCatholics do meet with work in me so mightfully, that I often am indoubt i
"Ah," he said, "methinks if you answer in so true and grave a mannermy rude catechizing. Mistress Sherwood, I be not bold enough tocontinue the inventory of your faults."
"I pray you do," I answered; for I felt in my soul an unusual likingfor his conversation, and the more so when, leaving off jesting, hesaid, "The last fault Mr. Roper did charge you with was lack ofprudence in matters wherein prudence is most needed in these days."
"Alas!" I exclaimed; "for that also do I cry mercy; but indeed, MasterRookwood, there is in these days so much cowardice and time-servingwhich doth