Chapter VIII: Lady Audrey

"AUDREY, I have had a letter from my brother Miles."

"And he is coming home to us from Oxford, as your father wishes!—You see I can guess the news," added the young lady. She was little more than a girl, although she was dressed in the sombre cap and wimple of a widow. She spoke quite eagerly, not waiting for her sister-in-law to finish what she was saying.

"I am afraid the messenger must have lost my father's letter, or reached Oxford too late, for this letter—that a pedlar has just brought—comes from London, although the man received it at Oxford. It has come right speedily too, for it is little more than a week since it was written, and now it is in my hands."

"But what does he say?" asked Lady Audrey Paton, stamping her foot impatiently. She had come on a visit to her husband's old home, but she found it very dull, and so Sir Thomas, after a good deal of persuasion from his wife and daughter, had consented that Miles should come home for a few weeks, and had written a coldly worded invitation to that effect, and they were expecting the answer to this invitation when Miles' letter from London reached them, which again upset all the plans of the old man.

Whether the young widow surmised it or not, Sir Thomas Paton had decided that the best thing he could do for Miles was to marry him to his brother's widow; thus following the august example of the king.

Whether she knew what the ultimate intent was or not, she had looked forward to the coming of Miles, for the death of their elder son had greatly aged Sir Thomas and Lady Paton; while Margery scarce ever left her own wing of the house, so that the young widow found that the old homestead, which was full of life and jollity before she was married, was now even more dull than her own home. So that she had begun to look forward to the coming of Miles with some eagerness, and she was greatly disappointed when she heard the news received by Margery.

While she was telling Lady Audrey what her brother said, the door opened and her father walked in. "Eh, Margery what is this that I hear? Betty says the pedlar has brought you a letter from Oxford. What does that knave mean by not coming home as I commanded him?"

"Miles is in London, father; he has taken service with the great Cardinal."

"What—what?" thundered the old man, trembling with excitement as he leaned upon his stick. "A son of mine take service with any man, except it be the king himself, to chastise his enemies and uphold the honour of England! That is the only service a Paton ever knows."

"But you forget father that you have not sent Miles any money for some months, so that he has been obliged to write the Greek New Testament into English to earn his bread of late."

"How now, child—am I to be defied by son and daughter too?"

"Father, I am not defying you," said Margery calmly; "I am only telling you what I know is the truth. Miles has had a very hard time at Oxford this last winter, and if he had not been able to—"

"I will hear no more about that story," interrupted the gentleman angrily, "tell me what he says now."

For answer Margery handed her father the letter she had just been reading. He looked at it long enough to glean an estimate of its contents, and then flung it from him angrily, exclaiming, "He has thwarted me again—the mean souled rebel. What does he mean by it?"

Margery could only look at her father in dumb amazement. For why should he be so put out because Miles could not come home and amuse Audrey?

When he had flung out of the room in a storm of anger, she turned to her sister-in-law and said, "I cannot understand my father. Why should he be angry because Miles has gone to London? He would not let him come to Woodstock at Christmas, or even send him a silver crown for a Christmas box."

"Is it true that he is translating the New Testament into English?"

"Yes, he has sent me a copy of the Gospel of Matthew done into English."

"Oh Margery! I am so glad: will you let me see it?" asked Lady Audrey.

Margery looked surprised at her sister-in-law's eagerness. "I would have shown it to you before," she said; "but my confessor told me it was against the law of the Church to read such a book, and that I had better send it back to Miles, and tell him not to do such a thing again, or grave trouble would befall him and us too."

Audrey laughed. She had very little respect for priests or monks. So their threats made small impression upon her; and it was only out of curiosity that she wanted to see Margery's copy of St. Matthew.

But having got possession of it, she would not part with it until she had read it through; and when she had read it once she began to read it again, and then to compare it with the Latin Vulgate.

It had such a fascination for her that she could talk of nothing else, and she often made Lady Paton very uncomfortable by her remark; for what would happen next if fashionable ladies took upon themselves to set the clergy right upon such a thing as the translation of the Testament?

Audrey protested against this view of the matter, declaring she only wanted to know what was the truth—to know the mind of God and the Lord Jesus Christ—and no one could blame her for this.

Lady Paton did more than blame her. She was very angry about the whole matter. But fortunately Lady Audrey was summoned to go with her mother to visit an aunt at Little Sodbury, in Gloucestershire; and so her visit to Woodstock was abruptly terminated, to the great relief of Lady Paton, who feared that the holy fathers at the monastery would hear of her talk about the New Testament and be offended about it. She was angry even with her own darling Margery, and bade her lock up the book in the oak-chest, and by no means allow anyone else to see it.

But before she went, Lady Audrey had copied several chapters, and these she took with her, and made no secret of what she had done when she joined her mother.

The Countess was amused that her daughter should appear as a learned lady; for the King's daughter, the Lady Mary, was being well educated, and his sister was accounted a learned lady, and many of the noble dames she had met were having their daughters educated, to share in this new learning people were talking about, and as a young widow Audrey would have a right to talk and express an opinion, which she could not as an unmarried girl.

At the manor house, at Little Sodbury, they met the tutor of the family, who had known Erasmus, and had been both at Oxford and Cambridge, and at dinner frequently the talk turned upon the difference between the translation of Erasmus and the Latin Vulgate; and from Master William Tyndale, Audrey learned a good deal more of the gospel truth—expounded both in conversation and in preaching.

To him she showed her precious sheets of St. Matthew's Gospel in English, and he seemed very much struck with the idea.

"Why, if we could only get the Testament properly translated and printed in the new printing presses, it would be better than all the preaching," said the young man, who could think of nothing but how the new doctrine that he had learned from God's word should be made known to others.

In spite of his duties all the week, he went out preaching in the surrounding villages on Sunday, without fee or reward; nay, he was thankful if any parish priest would let him use his pulpit to speak out boldly and plainly, and tell the people that the whole law of God was contained in the Scripture, which if they could read for themselves they would be able to judge whether the doctrines of the Church were true or not.

Sometimes Lady Audrey and another friend would join the children and their tutor in a ramble through the fields, or climbing the Cotswold Hills; but wherever it might be, the talk of these two would come round to the discussion of translating the Scriptures into English; and Tyndale listened with the greatest interest to the account she gave of Miles Paton translating the Gospel for his sister, and afterwards making other copies for friends, to maintain himself at the university.

"But that is slow, slow," said Tyndale, shaking his head. "It is too costly, too," he added, "for when once the translation is made copies should be made quickly; and this could only be done by the printing press, an invention that would give the Scriptures to serving men and maidens, as well as people of quality, who could afford to pay large sums of money to the scrivener who wrote them. That is how it must be at last, Lady Audrey, if ever the Bible is to have any power in this our England; for it is the only way it can get into the hands of the people."

Lady Audrey soon found that this was the dream of Master Tyndale's life,—to bring the new learning, that had wrought such changes at the universities, down to the comprehension of the common people. But she was not sure that she liked this idea.

It was, of course, quite the right and proper thing for people like herself and the Patons to know all about what was said of the difference between the Latin Vulgate and the new translation, but she thought the doctrine of penances and Masses for the dead, and the other doctrines of the Church taught by the priests, were much better suited to the common people than this new learning; for if they were taught to think for themselves as the New Testament taught, might they not be even more troublesome than they were now to the landlords? She had heard something of this from her late husband and his father, and so she thought it would be a great mistake to get the Scriptures put into the hands of such common people as yeomen and ploughmen,—and she said so.

"But, my lady, have you thought that these same yeomen and ploughmen have souls for whom the Lord Christ died, as well as for the rich and great?" said Master Tyndale, in a tone of rebuke.

The lady tossed her head. "What will become of the rich and great if the poor are taught that they have a right to share in all their possessions? I quite agree with the priest who came to dinner yesterday. My mother said he was a wise, foreseeing man, and if this new learning is to be of any use to us we must keep it to ourselves, and not make it common by translating books into English."

"But what would you have known of this New Testament of Erasmus if your friend had not translated it into English?" said the tutor, slyly.

"Oh! I spoke not so much against the book being done into English, but it being made common through the printing of it, such as you wish. Of course, if the book is written out fairly by a good scrivener, he must be paid for his work, and the books will cost a large sum, and—"

"And the rich only can become possessed of them," interrupted Tyndale, hotly; for the selfish ignorance of the young widow made him angry, the more so perhaps that he had hoped great things of her during the first part of her stay in his master's house.

Like many others, Lady Audrey was content to take up the new notion that reading the Testament had given her, but when she heard the dinner-table talk about the poor rising and throwing off the duty they owed to their masters as well as the priests, she drew back, and began to think that Miles Paton must be as mad as his father said, for, if the Gospel was to be followed out to its logical conclusion, as one of the gentlemen said, we should have the ignorant poor pulling out their eyes and cutting off their right hands, and the number of beggars would be increased tenfold. She brought forward this second-hand argument now, but Master Tyndale only laughed at her for thinking sensible men would be so foolish as to believe that this command was to be taken literally.

"See you now, Lady Audrey, we have a picture at Sodbury Hall of a fox preaching in a friar's hood and gown, but whoever believes that a fox ever mounted a pulpit steps? Yet we say the picture is a true one, because we know that many of the friars and monks are as cunning and hypocritical as a fox. So with this command to pluck out the eye and cut off the hand; it but teaches that if some sin is as dear to us, and as close to us, aye, and as useful to us as a right hand or a right eye, still they must be given up if we are to enter the kingdom of heaven."

Audrey looked serious for a minute or two. She had learned to venerate this tutor, for she had heard on all sides since she had been here that he was one of the most learned men in England; and learning was the passport everywhere now, so that although he might be only a tutor to Master Walsh's children at present, he might, by-and-bye, be received at Court, and rise to the highest dignity in Church and State, and so be able to help forward her interests and those of her family.

So Lady Audrey was careful how she answered him, for he was of good birth like herself, and she could not tell him that in championing the cause of the poor he was speaking for those to whom he himself belonged, as she would have liked to do. So she set about it in a more gentle manner, conceding all that he said about the cunning and hypocrisy of the monks and friars.

"Then why should we not warn the poor against falling victims to their guile?" asked Tyndale, quickly. "The rich can protect themselves better against the extortion of these foxes than the poor and ignorant can. Why should they not be told that God is ready and willing to pardon all sin, if we on our part will earnestly strive and endeavour to overcome it, or give it up? Why should the poor be left to believe that penances and masses are necessary to gain the release of the soul from Purgatory, and starve themselves almost—as they sometimes do—to secure the prayers of a priest to mitigate the pain of some dear one who has passed away?"

"But the rich have to pay for masses as well," said Audrey, thinking of the quarrelling that had gone on between her own and her husband's family as to who should pay for the requisite number of masses to be said for the release of his soul from Purgatory. She did not tell Master William Tyndale about this, for she had wit enough to see that it did not redound to the credit of either side, and she thought she might be asked why, if she believed that masses for the dead were necessary, she did not deny herself some luxury in dress or appointments, and send the money so saved to the monastery, that the time of poor Jack's stay in Purgatory might be lessened.

Altogether, she found herself on the horns of a dilemma, and was not sorry when the children, who had been sitting at their feet listening, suddenly asked some question on a totally different subject, which she eagerly took up as an escape from the present discussion.

She had been some months now at Sodbury Hall, and Master Tyndale began to hope that she too might be one who would help to make known the glorious news of the Gospel of the love of God. But after this talk the two mutually avoided further conversation on the subject, for Lady Audrey did not want to be made uncomfortable by such home truths as Master Tyndale was apt to apply in his arguments; while he, on his side, thought that the less he saw of the fascinating little lady the better it would be for his future work, which was gradually forming itself in his mind, and from which, he prayed God, he might never be turned aside,—to become a translator of the New Testament into English, and get it printed, either in London or at one of the great printing presses on the continent.

She had some precious fragments of the Word of God which she could read, and which the Holy Spirit could enforce in His own good time; but for the mass of the English people there was no such provision, and their souls were starving for lack of the Bread of Life. So in the midst of his teaching, preaching, and the opportunities society gave him of making known the truth to his master's friends, he made some sort of a beginning to translate the New Testament, using not only the Greek, but also the Latin translation of Erasmus, that the English version should be as perfect as possible.

But it was slow work, and he began to see before the summer of this year—1522—was over, that he should have to make some change in his life if ever it was to be completed, and the haunting dream of his life fulfilled, by the Testament being not only translated and written, but printed in English!

Some thought of this had doubtless entered his mind before the visit of Lady Audrey, but since he had seen the fragments of the Gospel she possessed, and heard the story of Miles Paton, it had become almost a passion that possessed him, to do this work himself for his country, so that what now seemed the wildest dream might be actual fact, and the Bible be the possession of ploughmen and shopkeepers, as well as of the students at the universities.