Biographical fiction; Christian fiction; Christian saints -- Fiction; More, Thomas, Saint, 1478-1535 -- Fiction
_Rizpah_, Daughter of _Aiah_, did watch her Dead from the Beginning of
Harvest until the latter Rain, and suffered neither the Birds of the
Air to light on them by Day, nor the wild Beasts of the Field by Night.
And it was told the King, but he intermeddled not with her.
_Argia_ stole _Polynices'_ Body by Night and buried it, for the which,
she with her Life did willingly pay Forfeit. _Antigone_, for aiding
in the pious Theft, was adjudged to be buried alive. _Artemisia_ did
make herself her loved one's Shrine, by drinking his Ashes. Such is the
Love of Women; many Waters cannot quench it, neither can the Floods
drown it. I've hearde _Bonvisi_ tell of a poor _Italian_ Girl, whose
Brothers did slay her Lover; and in Spite of them she got his Heart,
and buried it in a Pot of Basil, which she watered Day and Night with
her Tears, just as I do my Coffer. _Will_ has promised it shall be
buried with me; layd upon my Heart; and since then, I've beene easier.
He thinks he shall write _Father's_ Life, when he gets more composed,
and we are settled in a new Home. We are to be cleared out o' this
in alle Haste; the King grutches at our lingering over _Father's_
Footsteps, and gazing on the dear familiar Scenes associate with his
Image; and yet, when the News of the bloody Deed was taken to him, as
he sate playing at Tables with Queen _Anne_, he started up and scowled
at her, saying, "Thou art the Cause of this Man's Death!" _Father_
might well say, during our last precious Meeting in the Tower, "'Tis I,
_Meg_, not the King, that love Women. They belie him; he onlie loves
himself." Adding, with his own sweet Smile, "Your _Gaffer_ used to say
that Women were a Bag of Snakes, and that the Man who put his Hand
therein woulde be lucky if he founde one Eel among them alle; but 'twas
onlie in Sport, _Meg_, and he owned that I had enough Eels to my Share
to make a goodly Pie, and called my House the Eel-pie House to the
Day of his Death. 'Twas our Lord _Jesus_ raised up Women, and shewed
Kindnesse unto 'em; and they've kept theire Level, in the Main, ever
since."
I wish _Will_ may sett down everie Thing of _Father's_ saying he can
remember; how precious will his Book then be to us! But I fear me,
these Matters adhere not to a Man's Memory ... he'll be telling of
his Doings as Speaker and Chancellor, and his saying this and that in
Parliament. Those are the Matters Men like to write and to read; he
won't write it after my Fashion.
I had a Misgiving of _Will's_ Wrath, that Night, 'speciallie if I
failed; but he called me his brave _Judith_. Indeed I was a Woman
bearing a Head, but one that had oft lain on my Shoulder.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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