Part 16 (1/2)
”Nay, but hear me, madam. It is only to hinder the sending of a letter.”
”That letter which her Grace was about to write yesterday?”
”Even so. 'Tis no secret, for she read fragments of it aloud, and all her women applauded it with all their might, and laughed over the stings that it would give, but Mr. Curll, who bad to copy it, saith that there is a bitterness in it that can do nothing but make her Majesty of England the more inflamed, not only against my Lady Shrewsbury, but against her who writ the letter, and all concerned. Why, she hath even brought in the comedy that your children acted in the woodland, and that was afterwards repeated in the hall!”
”You say not so, Mistress Barbara?”
”Indeed I do. Mr. Curll and Sir Andrew Melville are both of them sore vexed, and would fain have her withdraw it; but Master Nau and all the French part of the household know not how to rejoice enough at such an exposure of my Lady, which gives a hard fling at Queen Elizabeth at the same time! Nay, I cannot but tell you that there are things in it that Dame Mary Talbot might indeed say, but I know not how Queen Mary could bring herself to set down-”
Barbara Mowbray ventured no more, and Susan felt hopeless of her task, since how was she by any means to betray knowledge of the contents of the letter? Yet much that she had heard made her feel very uneasy on all accounts. She had too much strong family regard for the Countess and for Gilbert Talbot and his wife to hear willingly of what might imperil them, and though royal indignation would probably fly over the heads of the children, no one was too obscure in those Tudor times to stand in danger from a sovereign who might think herself insulted. Yet as a Hardwicke, and the wife of a Talbot, it was most unlikely that she would have any opening for remonstrance given to her.
However, it was possible that Curll wished to give her an opening, for no sooner were the ladies settled at work than he bowed himself forward and offered his mistress his copy of the letter.
”Is it fair engrossed, good Curll?” asked Mary.
”Thanks. Then will we keep your copy, and you shall fold and prepare our own for our sealing.”
”Will not your Majesty hear it read over ere it pa.s.s out of your hands?” asked Curll.
”Even so,” returned Mary, who really was delighted with the pungency of her own composition. ”Mayhap we may have a point or two to add.”
After what Mistress Barbara had said, Susan was on thorns that Cis should hear the letter; but that good young lady, hating the expressions therein herself, and hating it still more for the girl, bethought her of asking permission to take Mistress Cicely to her own chamber, there to a.s.sist her in the folding of some of her laces, and Mary consented. It was well, for there was much that made the English-bred Susan's cheeks glow and her ears tingle.
But, at least, it gave her a great opportunity. When the letter was finished, she advanced and knelt on the step of the canopied chair, saying, ”Madam, pardon me, if in the name of my unfortunate children, I entreat you not to accuse them to the Queen.”
”Your children, lady! How have I included them in what I have told her Majesty of our sweet Countess?”
”Your Grace will remember that the foremost parts in yonder farce were allotted to my son Humfrey and to young Master Babington. Nay, that the whole arose from the woodland sport of little Cis, which your Grace was pleased to admire.”
”Sooth enough, my good gossip, but none could suspect the poor children of the malice my Lady Countess contrived to put into the matter.”
”Ah, madam! these are times when it is convenient to s.h.i.+ft the blame on one who can be securely punished.”
”Certes,” said Mary, thoughtfully, ”the Countess is capable of making her escape by denouncing some one else, especially those within her own reach.”
”Your Grace, who can speak such truth of my poor Lady,” said Susan, ”will also remember that though my Lord did yield to the persuasions of the young ladies, he so heedfully caused Master Sniggins to omit all perilous matter, that no one not informed would have guessed at the import of the piece, as it was played in the hall.”
”Most a.s.suredly not,” said Mary, laughing a little at the recollection. ”It might have been played in Westminster Hall without putting my gracious cousin, ay, or Leicester and Hatton themselves, to the blush.”
”Thus, if the Queen should take the matter up and trace it home, it could not but be brought to my poor innocent children! Humfrey is for the nonce out of reach, but the maiden-I wis verily that your Highness would be loath to do her any hurt!”
”Thou art a good pleader, madam,” said the queen. ”Verily I should not like to bring the bonnie la.s.sie into trouble. It will give Master Curll a little more toil, ay and myself likewise, for the matter must stand in mine own hand; but we will leave out yonder unlucky farce.”
”Your Highness is very good,” said Susan earnestly.
”Yet you look not yet content, my good lady. What more would you have of me?”
”What your Majesty will scarce grant,” said Susan.