“I give you to wit also, good mistress, that in this country be some men who call themselves Jacobites,—to wit, disciples of Saint James,—and they be right Lollards, holding that a man should make confession to God and no wise unto the priest; and also read they God’s Word in their own tongue, and not in Latin, the which giveth me much marvel how they came in this place, for they do wit nothing of us and of our country. Nathless, I trow that God learneth (teaches) His own alike in all lands and at divers times.
“I pray you specially, good mistress, that you give me to wit how I may come home. Doth King Henry still reign? and is he yet evil affected toward the Lollards? for so long as things be in this case, I dare in no wise take my way unto you.
“And now, dear mistress, I pray God to have you in His holy keeping, to the which I commit you all.
“From your very humble serving-man and loving friend, Richard Pynson.
“Edmund Carew prayeth me for to make his lowly commendations unto you.
“Written at Damascus, this xxvii day of November.”
This was the first and last letter which Dame Lovell received from Richard Pynson. Probably he wrote many others, but they never came to hand.
Friar Andrew, with the greatest difficulty, managed to write back a few lines. His letter took him a whole week to compose and transfer to paper. It was written in short sentences, like a child’s epistle; and nearly every sentence commenced with Richard’s name. Friar Andrew informed his correspondent that all parties named in his letter were well; that Geoffrey was still with them, sent his loving commendations, and said he remembered him, and would never forget him as long as he lived; that of Lord Marnell they had only heard a rumour which they could not believe, of his having joined an insurrection in the West; that Master Carew was had up to London and strictly examined by the council, but that his answers were so ingeniously evasive that they could lay hold of nothing, and nothing had been found in his house which could criminate him; he had accordingly been dismissed with a caution. Sir Ralph Marston had privately declared that “the old fox must have hidden his Lollard books in some uncommonly safe place, for I wis he had some.” Friar Andrew concluded his letter with a malediction upon “evil companions,” by which he meant the anti-Lollard party; for though Andrew cared not a straw about the matter of opinion, he could never forgive them for his favourite’s death. He also besought Richard to “look well to his ways, and have nought to do with heathen Jews and Saracens, who all worshipped mawmetis,” (see note 5) and to come home as soon as he could—which, however, must not be just now.
Friar Andrew then folded his elaborate and arduous piece of composition, and directed it in remarkable characters and singular spelling, as follows:—
“To ye hondes of ye veraye gode Knyghte, Syr Rechurt Pynsone of Pinnsonrue, beyng yn ye Halie Londe at Dommosscsc (this word gave him immense trouble), or elsewhar, dilyuher thes.”