Robin Tremayne: A Story of the Marian PersecutionHolt, Emily Sarah
History
Robin Tremayne: A Story of the Marian Persecution
Holt, Emily Sarah
Great Britain -- Church history -- 16th century -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"Well, after this, Madam Isabel took me away with her into an other
chamber, where she gave me a cup of red wine and some cakes, that were
not ill to take. And in this chamber were great cushions spread all
about the floor, like unto the mattress of a bed; the cushions of velvet
and verder [a species of tapestry], and the floor of marble. Upon these
she desired me to repose me for a season; and (saith she) `At seven of
the clock, mine excellent cousin Don Jeronymo and my lord Don Diego, and
I your servant, shall take you up to the Castle, into the most ineffable
presence of the most glorious Lord Marquis of Denia.' O rare! (thought
I.) If the Queen's Comptroller be so glorious and of so ineffable a
presence, what shall his mistress be? So when even came (my Senora
Madam Isabel having meantime reposed and slumbered on the cushions), I
shifted me into my best and richest apparel for to enter this ineffable
presence, and went up unto the Castle, Don Diego leading me by the hand,
and Madam Isabel coming after with Master Jeronymo. This was but across
the court; for no sooner had I reached the door, than what should I see
but two mules, richly-caparisoned, there standing. I was somewhat
surprised, for the Castle is but a stone's throw from the house; but
Master Jeronymo, seeing my look, whispereth unto me that in Spain,
ladies of any sort [ladies of rank] do ride when they go of a journey,
be it but ten yards. Methought it scarce worth the trouble to mount the
mule for to 'light off him again so soon: howbeit, I did as I was bid.
Madam Isabel suffered her lord to lift her upon the other; and away hied
we for the Castle, our cavaliers a-walking behind. When we 'light, and
the portcullis was drawn up, Master Jeronymo prayeth the porter to send
word unto the ineffable Lord Comptroller that the English damsel sent
hither by the most noble Lady, Dona Catalina (so they call my Lady of
Suffolk's Grace) doth entreat for leave to kiss the dust under his feet.
This is their country mode; but I do ensure thee I had been little
gladded for leave to kiss the dust; and it doth yet tickle mine ears
whensoever I hear it. So up the stairs went we, through a fair court
bordered with orange-trees, into a brave chamber hung about with silk,
and all over the floor a carpet of verder spread. Here we awaited a
season; at the end whereof come in three or four gentlemen in brave
array, before the foremost whereof all we bowed down to the ground.
This was mine ineffable Lord Marquis. A tall, personable gentleman he
is, something stiff and stately.
"`Senora,' saith he, inclining him unto us, `you are welcome as the
light!'
"And raising him up, he called in a loud voice for the Senora Gomez.
Come forth from the chamber beyond, a middle-aged dame, apparelled in
black.
"`Take this lady to her chamber,' saith he. `Dona Ines is her name.
And remember what I told you!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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