“Doth God wot that, Mistress Maude? Then of a surety I am sorry for you.”
Maude was silent, though she thought it strange doctrine. But Avice said in a low voice, recurring to her former subject,—“You believe, Master Calverley, that God can raise the dead; but think you that He can quicken again to life an heart that is dead, and cold, and hard as yonder stone? Is there any again rising for such?”
“Madam, if no, there had been never none for neither you nor me. We be all dead souls by nature.”
“Ay, afore baptism, so wit I; but what of mortal sin done after baptism?”
“I speak but as I am learned, Madam,” said Hugh modestly. “I am younger even than you, methinks, and far more witless. But I have heard them say that have been deep skilled, as methinks, in the ministeries (mysteries) of God, that wherein it is said that ‘He mai save withouten ende,’ it scarce signifieth only afore baptism.”
“Ah!” said Maude, with a sigh, “to do away sin done after baptism is a mighty hard and grievous matter. Good sooth, at my first communion, this last summer, so abashed (nervous) was I, and in so painful bire (confused haste), that I let drop the holy wafer upon the ground; and for all I gat it again unbroke, and licked well with my tongue the stide (spot) where it had fallen, Father Dominic (a fictitious person) said I had done dreadful sin, and he caused me to crawl upon my knees all around the church, and to say an hundred Ave Marys and ten Paternosters at every altar. And in very deed I was right sorrowful for mine ill mischance; nor could I help the same, for I saw not the matter rightly. But Father Dominic said our Lord should be right sore offenced with me, and mine only hope lay in moving the mercy of our dear worthy Lady to plead with Him. If it be not wicked to say the same,” added she timidly, “I would God were not angered with us for such like small gear. But I count our Lady heard me, sith Father Dominic was pleased to absolve me at last.”
“Will you give me leave to say a thing, Mistress Maude?”
“I pray you so do, Master Calverley.”
“Then if the same hap should chance unto you again, I counsel you to travail (trouble) yourself neither with Father Dominic nor our Lady, but to go straight to our Lord Himself. Maybe He were pleased to absolve you something sooner than Father Dominic. Look you, the priest died not to atone God for your sins, neither our Lady did not. And if it be, as men do say, that commonly the mother is more fond (foolishly indulgent) unto the child than any other, by reason she hath known more travail and pain (labour) with him, then surely in like manner He that hath borne death for our sins shall be more readier to assoil them than he that no did.”
These were bold words to speak in the year of grace 1385. But the Queen’s squire, John Calverley, was one of those advanced Lollards of whom there were very few, and his son had learned of him. Even Wycliffe himself would scarcely have dared to venture so far as this, until the latter years of his life. It takes long to convince men that no lesser advocate is needed between them and the one Mediator with God. And where they are taught that “Mary is the human side of Jesus,” the result generally is that they lose sight of the humanity of Jesus altogether.