After the play was ended, the dancing began anew. Several of the fathers were down from the convent, as usual, but methought they were not very cordially received. And when Father Jerome ventured to chuck Jan Lee's new wife under the chin, with what I must needs say was rather a broad jest, Jan gave him a look as black as thunder and drew his bride away. I too had an encounter which did not please me. I was standing by my father, and leaning on his arm, when the Prior came up to us with the same dark priest who had been in the church on Sunday, and presented him to my father as Father Barnabas of Glastonbury. Then turning to me:
"What, my fair Rosamond, is this you? I did not know the dove in her plumage!"
While I was thinking what to say in reply, the other priest broke in:
"Methinks neither the plumes nor the place are very well suited to the promised bride of Christ; how well soever they may beseem fair Rosamond!" with an emphasis on the name. It was now my father's turn to look black.
"My daughter, sir priest, is no nun; and being as yet under her father's roof and rule, she dresses to please him, like a dutiful maiden, and according to the words we heard last Sunday: 'Honor thy father and mother.'"
"Aye, there it is," said the prior. "Now may we see what comes of these innovations. Soon every man will be ready with his text and his commentary—according to the boast of that archfiend Tyndale, which I heard him make to myself, that he would so order matters that in a few years every ploughboy should know more of Scripture than I did. And what are we to do then!"
"Lackaday! I don't know," answered Will Paxton, my Lord's jester, putting in his word as usual—"'Tis an ill-ordered house where the man can write, though the master can't read."
Whereat the priest frowned, and my father laughed heartily, and gave Will a silver groat, bidding him go buy a fairing for his sweetheart. Then saying that I was standing too long and would be ill again, he led me away, and we presently went up to the Court to spend the day with my Lady, to whom I had promised instruction in the art of knitting. We passed a very quiet and pleasant day, and walking home together in the twilight, in a thoughtful mood, I suddenly bethought myself of Dick's little book, and asked my mother, saying:
"Madam, have you ever seen one of these same Testaments of Master Tyndale's?"
"Aye, daughter, that have I! I have both seen and read it!" she answered.