Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth CenturyFullerton, Georgiana
History
Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century
Fullerton, Georgiana
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction
The next day we had the longest ride and the hottest sun we had yet
met with; and at noon we halted to rest in a thicket on the roadside,
which we made our pavilion, and from which our eyes did feast
themselves on a delightful prospect. There were heights on one side
garnished with stately oaks, and a meadow betwixt the road and the
hill enamelled with all sorts of pleasing flowers, and stored with
sheep, which were feeding in sober security. Mistress Ward, who was
greatly tired with the journey, fell asleep with her head on her hand,
and I pulled from my pocket a volume with which Mr. Page had gifted me
at parting, and which contained sundry tales anent Amadis de Gaul,
Huon de Bordeaux, Palmerin of England, and suchlike famous knights,
which he said, as I knew how to read, for which he greatly commended
my parents' care, I should entertain myself with on the road. So,
one-half sitting, one-half lying on the grass, I reclined in an easy
posture, with my head resting against the trunk of a tree, pleasing my
fancy with the writers' conceits; but ever and anon lifting my eyes to
the blue sky above my head, seen through the green branches, or fixed
them on the quaint patterns the quivering light drew on the grass, or
else on the valley refreshed with a silver river, and the fair hills
beyond it. And as I read of knights and ladies, and the many perils
which befel them, and passages of love betwixt them, which was new to
me, and what I had not met with in any of the books I had yet read, I
fell into a fit of musing, wondering if in London the folks I should
see would discourse in the same fashion, and the gentlemen have so
much bravery and the ladies so great beauty as those my book treated
of. And as I noticed it was chiefly on the high-roads they did come
into such dangerous adventures, I gazed as far as I could
discern on the one I had in view before me with a foolish kind of
desire for some robbers to come and assail us, and then a great
nobleman or gallant esquire to ride up and fall on them, and to
deliver us from a great peril, and may be to be wounded in the
encounter, and I to bind up those wounds as from my mother's teaching
I knew how to do, and then give thanks to the noble gentleman in such
courteous and well-picked words as I could think of. But for all my
gazing I could naught perceive save a wain slowly ascending the hill
loaden with corn, midst clouds of dust, and some poorer sort of
people, who had been gleaning, and were carrying sheaves on their
heads. After an hour Mistress Ward awoke from her nap; and methinks I
had been dozing also, for when she called to me, and said it was time
to eat somewhat, and then get to horse, I cried out, "Good sir, I wait
your pleasure;" and rubbed my eyes to see her standing before me in
her riding-habit, and not the gentleman whose wounds I had been
tending.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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