“I’d have had that chaplet for myself, if I’d been that lady!” said Alexandra as they went forward. “I’d never have cast that away for a christening gift.”
“Nay, but her lord would not find the money,” answered Ricarda.
“I’d have had it, some way,” said her sister. “It was fair enough for a queen. Amphillis, I do marvel who is the lady thou shalt serve. There’s ever so much ado ere the matter be settled. ’Tis one grander than Mistress Chaucer, trow, thou shalt see to-morrow even.”
“Ay, so it seems,” was the quiet answer.
“Nathless, I would not change with thee. I’ve no such fancy for silence and patience. Good lack! but if a maid can work, and dress hair, and the like, what would they of such weary gear as that?”
“Maids be not of much worth without they be discreet,” said Amphillis.
“Well, be as discreet as thou wilt; I’ll none of it,” was the flippant reply of her cousin.
The young ladies, however, did not neglect to accompany Amphillis on her subsequent visit. Regina met them at the door.
“She is great lady, dis one, I am sure,” said she. “Pray you, mind your respects.”
The great lady carried on her conversation in French, which in 1372 was the usual language of the English nobles. Its use was a survival from the Norman Conquest, but the Norman-French was very far from pure, being derided by the real French, and not seldom by Englishmen themselves. Chaucer says of his prioress:—
“And French she spake full fair and fetously (cleverly),
After the scole of Stratford-atte-Bow,
For French of Paris was to hire (her) unknow.”
This lady, the girls noticed, spoke the French of Paris, and was rather less intelligible in consequence. She put her queries in a short, quick style, which a little disconcerted Amphillis; and she had a weary, irritated manner. At last she said shortly—
“Very well! Consider yourself engaged. You must set out from London on Lammas Day (August 1st), and Mistress Regina here, who is accustomed to such matters, will tell you what you need take. A varlet will come to fetch you; take care you are ready. Be discreet, and do not get into any foolish entanglements of any sort.”
Amphillis asked only one question—Would the lady be pleased to tell her the name and address of her future mistress?
“Your mistress lives in Derbyshire. You will hear her name on the way.”
And with a patronising nod to the girls, and another to Regina, the lady left the room.
“Lammas Day!” cried Alexandra, almost before the door was closed. “Gramercy, but we can never be a-ready!”
“Ach! ja, but you will if you hard work,” said Regina.
“And the jousting!” said Ricarda.
“What for the jousting?” asked Regina. “You are not knights, dat you joust?”
“We should have seen it, though: a friend had passed his word to take us, that wist how to get us in.”
“We’ll go yet, never fear!” said her sister. “Phyllis must work double.”
“Den she will lose de sight,” objected Regina.
“Oh, she won’t go!” said Alexandra, contemptuously. “Much she knows about tilting!”
“What! you go, and not your cousin? I marvel if you about it know more dan she. And to see a pretty sight asks not much knowing.”
“I’m not going to slave myself, I can tell you!” replied Alexandra. “Phyllis must work. What else is she good for?”
Regina left the question unanswered. “Well, you leave Phyllis wid me; I have something to say to her—to tell her what she shall take, and how she must order herself. Den she come home and work her share—no more.”
The sisters saw that she meant it, and they obeyed, having no desire to make an enemy of the wealthy goldsmith’s daughter.
Chapter Three.
Who can she be?
“O thou child of many prayers!
Life hath quicksands—life hath snares.”
Longfellow.
“Now, sit you down on de bench,” said Regina, kindly. “Poor maid! you tremble, you are white. Ach! when folks shall do as dey should, dey shall not do as dey do no more. Now we shall have von pleasant talking togeder, you and I. You know de duties of de bower-woman? or I tell dem you?”
“Would you tell me, an’ it please you?” answered Amphillis, modestly. “I do not know much, I dare say.”
“Gut! Now, listen. In de morning, you are ready before your lady calls; you keep not her awaiting. Maybe you sleep in de truckle-bed in her chamber; if so, you dress more quieter as mouse, you wake not her up. She wakes, she calls—you hand her garments, you dress her hair. If she be wedded lady, you not to her chamber go ere her lord be away. Mind you be neat in your dress, and lace you well, and keep your hair tidy, wash your face, and your hands and feet, and cut short your nails. Every morning you shall your teeth clean. Take care, take much care what you do. You walk gravely, modestly; you talk low, quiet; you carry you sad (Note 1) and becomingly. Mix water plenty with your wine at dinner: you take not much wine, dat should shocking be! You carve de dishes, but you press not nobody to eat—dat is not good manners. You wash hands after your lady, and you look see there be two seats betwixt her and you—no nearer you go (Note 2). You be quiet, quiet! sad, sober always—no chatter fast, no scamper, no loud laugh. You see?”
“I see, and I thank you,” said Amphillis. “I hope I am not a giglot.”
“You are not—no, no! Dere be dat are. Not you. Only mind you not so become. Young maids can be too careful never, never! You lose your good name in one hour, but in one year you win it not back.”
And Regina’s plump round face went very sad, as if she remembered some such instance of one who was dear to her.
“Ach so!—Well! den if your lady have daughters young, she may dem set in your care. You shall den have good care dey learn courtesy (Note 3), and gaze not too much from de window, and keep very quiet in de bower (Note 4). And mind you keep dem—and yourself too—from de mans. Mans is bad!”
Amphillis was able to say, with a clear conscience, that she had no hankering after the society of those perilous creatures.
“See you,” resumed Regina, with some warmth, “dere is one good man in one hundert mans. No more! De man you see, shall he be de hundert man, or one von de nine and ninety? What you tink?”
“I think he were more like to be of the ninety and nine,” said Amphillis with a little laugh. “But how for the women, Mistress Regina? Be they all good?”
Regina shook her head in a very solemn manner.
“Dere is bad mans,” answered she, “and dey is bad: and dere is bad womans, and dey is badder; and dere is bad angels, and dey is baddest of all. Look you, you make de sharpest vinegar von de sweetest wine. Amphillis, you are