In Convent Walls: The Story of the Despensers — John Shaqi
In Convent Walls: The Story of the DespensersHolt, Emily Sarah
History
In Convent Walls: The Story of the Despensers
Holt, Emily Sarah
Great Britain -- History -- Edward II, 1307-1327 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"If the folks be nought to me, wherefore should the thoughts be of
import? Securely, good wife, but very little. I shall sleep the
sweeter for those fardels: and I count I should sleep none the worser if
man laughed at me. The blessing of the poor and the blessing of the
Lord be full apt to go together: and dost thou reckon I would miss
that--yea, so much as one of them--out of regard for that which is,
saith Solomon, `_sonitum spinarum sub olla_'? [Ecclesiastes chapter
seven, verse 6]. _Ha, jolife_! let the thorns crackle away, prithee;
they shall not burn long."
"Jack," said I, "thou _art_ the best man ever lived!"
"Rhyme on, my fair _trouvere_," quoth he. [Troubadour. Their lays were
usually legends and fictitious tales.] "But, Sissot, to speak sooth, I
will tell thee, if thou list to hearken, what it is keepeth my steps
from running into many a by-way, and mine heart from going astray after
many a flower sown of Satan in my path."
"Do tell me, Jack," said I.
"There be few days in my life," saith he, "that there cometh not up
afore mine eyes that Bar whereat I shall one day stand, and that Book
out of the which all my deeds shall be read afore men and angels. And I
have some concern for the thoughts of them that look on, that day,
rather than this. Many a time--ay, many a time twice told--in early
morn or in evening twilight, have I looked up into heaven, and the
thought hath swept o'er me like a fiery breeze--`What if our Lord be
coming this minute?' Dost thou reckon, Sissot, that man to whom such
thoughts be familiar friends, shall be oft found sitting in the
alebooth, or toying with frothy vanities? I trow not."
"But, Jack!" cried I, letting all else drop, "is that all real to thee?"
"Real, Sissot? There is not another thing as real in life."
I burst forth. I could not help it.
"O Jack, Jack! Don't go and be a monk!"
"Go and be a monk!" saith Jack, with an hearty laugh. "Why, Wife, what
bees be in thine hood? I thought I was thine husband."
"So thou art, the saints be thanked," said I. "But thou art so good, I
am sore afraid thou wilt either die or be a monk."
"I'll not be a monk, I promise thee," quoth he. "I am not half good
enough, nor would I lose my Sissot. As to dying, be secure I shall not
die an hour afore God's will is: and the Lord hath much need of good
folks to keep this bad world sweet. I reckon we may be as good as we
can with reasonable safety. I'll try, if thou wilt."
So I did, and yet do: but I shall never be match to Jack.
Well, by this time we had won back to the Queen's lodging; and at foot
of degrees I bade good-night to Jack, being that night appointed to the
pallet--a business I never loved. I was thinking on Jack's last words,
as I went up, and verily had for the nonce forgat that which went afore,
when all at once a voice saith in mine ear--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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