Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

In regard to Lord Darby, he knew Lady Katrine too; and if ever he gave himself a moment's uneasiness about her waywardness, he did not let it appear. If she flirted, he flirted too; if she was gay, he took care not to be a whit behind; if she was affectionate, he was gentle; and if she was cross, he laughed at her. She never could put him out of humour, though, to do her all manner of justice, she tried hard; and thus finding her attempts to tease ineffectual, she gradually relaxed in the endeavour.

In the mean time, the days of Sir Osborne and Lady Constance flew by in a sweet calm, that had something ominous in its tranquillity. He had almost forgotten Sir Payan Wileton; and in the mild flow of her happiness, Constance scarcely remembered the schemes with which the avaricious and haughty Wolsey threatened to trouble the stream of her existence. But, nevertheless, it was to be expected that if the dispensation had not yet arrived from Rome, it could not be delayed more than a few days; and that, at the return of the minister from York, the command would be renewed for her to bestow her hand upon Lord Darby. Such thoughts would sometimes come across Constance's mind with a painful sensation of dread; and then, with a spirit which so fair and tender an exterior hardly seemed to announce, she would revolve in her mind a plan for baffling the imperious prelate at all risks, and yet not implicate her lover at the very moment that his "fortunes were a-making."

Then, again, she would often hope that the extraordinary preparations that were going forward for the speedy meeting of the two courts of France and England, all the ceremonies that were to be arranged, and the many important questions that were to be discussed, would divert the mind of the cardinal from herself, at least till after that meeting had taken place; during which interval chance might produce many circumstances more favourable to her hopes. At all events, her resolution was taken: she felt, too, that no power on earth was adequate to combat that determination; and thus, with fixed purpose, she turned her mind from the contemplation of future dangers to the enjoyment of her present happiness.

The scene in Richmond Park, to which the court had now removed from Greenwich, as well as the bright gentleness of the May morning in which she met Sir Osborne there, was well calculated to nurse the most pleasing children of hope; and yet there was something melancholy even in the magnificent aspect of the day. I know not how, but often in those grand shining mornings the soul seems to swell too powerfully for the body; the spirit to feel galled, as it were, by the chain that binds it to mortality. Whatever be the cause, there is still, in such a scene, a pensiveness that steals upon the heart; a solemnity that makes itself felt in those innermost recesses of the mind where thought and sensation blend so intimately as to be hardly separable from each other. Constance and Darnley both felt it; but still it was not sorrow that it produced; for, mingling with their fervent love and their youthful hope, it gave their feelings something of divine.

"This is very, very lovely, Darnley," said Lady Constance, after they had long gazed in silence. "Oh, why are not all days like this! Why must we have the storm, and the tempest, and the cloud!"

"Perhaps," replied the knight, "if all days were so fair, we might not esteem them so much: we should be like those, Constance, who in the world have gone on in a long course of uninterrupted prosperity, and who have enjoyed so much that they can no longer enjoy."

"Oh, no, no!" cried she; "there are some pleasures that never cloy, and amongst them are those that we derive from contemplating the loveliness of nature. I cannot think that I should ever weary of scenes like these. No! let me have a fairy sky, where the sunshine scarcely knows a cloud, and where the air is always soft and sweet like this."

At this moment Mistress Margaret approached, with some consternation in her aspect. "Good now, lady!" cried she; "look! who is that coming? Such a strange-looking little man, no bigger than an atomy! Oh! I am glad the knight is with us; for it is something singular, I am sure."

"You are very right, Mistress Margaret," said Sir Osborne; "this is, indeed, a most singular being that approaches. Constance, you have heard the queen and her ladies speak of Sir Cesar, the famous alchymist and astrologer. He is well known to good Dr. Wilbraham, and seems, for some reason, to take a strange interest in all my proceedings. Depend on it, he comes to warn us of something that is about to happen, and his warning must not be slighted; for, from wheresoever his knowledge comes, it is very strange."

Lady Constance and the knight watched the old man as he came slowly over the green towards them, showing little of that vivacity of demeanour by which he was generally characterised. On approaching near, he bowed to Lady Constance with courtly ease, saluted the knight in a manner which might be called affectionate; and, without apology for his intrusion, seated himself at the lady's feet, and began a gay and easy conversation upon the justs of the day before.