CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE DEPARTURE.

Cavendish attended upon his master as the long retinue of state arrived on the very last day they ever formed a cavalcade for him as the Chancellor.

'Have all things been attended to, my faithful servant?' said Wolsey, as, dismissing his retainers, Cavendish alone conducted his master to his private room. There was a more than common suavity in the Cardinal's manner, a greater unbending than he had before witnessed in him; a more than usual sweetness, even approaching to tenderness.

'All is done as my lord desired; but Mistress Alice requested me to acquaint her with my lord's return.'

'Ha! ha! I forgot; yes, Cavendish, I forgot. Well, it is well. How could I forget? Go! yes, go! the sooner the better. I am as anxious to see Mistress Alice, as she can be to see me. I am at leisure. Quick, Cavendish. I am in my own house. Perhaps so! may be not--or may be so. Go, good Cavendish! summon the Lady Alice.'

It was evident that Wolsey had, in his own remembrance of his friends, forgotten that Alice was their enemy. Had he thought of their early feud he would probably have devised some other plan of accommodation for his friend. It is a painful one to any man to entertain guests when the mistress of his house is set against them.

These things came as things unwelcome to a great man's mind; but the greatest minds are frequently found to have to bend before female caprice. A good man is as jealous of hospitality being shown to his friends, as he is fond of domestic happiness; and she is a poor partner who receives not her lord's friends with complacency.

A truly wise wife never compromises her husband's dignity or her own, by behaving with incivility towards her husband's visitors. But when a servant assumes the position of a wife, and treats her master's visitors with contempt, it is time for her to be discharged.

Alice De Clinton occupied a superior station in the Cardinal's family, and did the honors of his house, where female interference was required, with the nicest propriety. She was, however, accounted a very cold, unbending person, though to the Cardinal himself all obsequiousness.

Her very manner to others gave occasion to the invention of evil reports concerning her; and when a female is haughty, and knows not how to conduct herself with gentleness, the world is glad to hear unfavorable reports of her, and as readily believes them. Even frailties are pitied where humility is not lost.

Alice entered the room where the Cardinal was reposing after the fatigues and anxieties of business, relaxed both in mind and body. He could not fail, however, to be struck with the singular appearance of the lady.

She came in her riding costume. The Cardinal marvelled, and well he might; but he was soon enlightened.

'You look astonished, my lord, to see me prepared for travel; but I am come to speak my mind, and to bid you farewell for ever. I little thought that I should ever be called upon to receive pestilent heretics in the house of Cardinal Wolsey; heretics, too, at this very moment under the ban of Tonstall, Bishop of London, summoned to appear before my Lord Cardinal; and to be treated forthwith as if they were the very best Catholics in the land. And who are these, my lord's guests? Have not I often told my lord that they were the greatest enemies he had? Have I not, years gone by, proclaimed them to be what they are now brought under my lord's hands for; and are they to come here and to expect favor from him who is appointed by the head of the church to suppress and punish them?

'I ever thought that my lord made advances to my friendship through the desire to refute and put down the enemies of the church. I ever thought that the wisdom, talents, learning, and power with which the favored of the Pope was gifted, were to be exercised for the honor of the chief Pontiff, and for the welfare of all good Catholics in this land.

'How is it, then, that one who has been bound by ties of friendship, based upon such principle, should now be called upon to act upon the contrary side? Is the memory of private regard to be weighed in the balance with the public good? And am I, who was expecting to be an Abbess of my lord's appointment, to be his panderer to a taste for heresy?

'Forbid it! O, shade of Goldwell! O, deceased Bishop! thou didst confide me to the guardianship of one whom thou didst deem a friend to the church, and lo! that one turns upon his charge, and commands her to receive, as her friends, these heretics against Rome.

'But my lord must be obtuse--my lord must be changed--my lord must be about to lose all his dignity, and to become a driveller, a poor, weak, mean-spirited man, and no longer the great Cardinal; the Lord Chancellor--the most learned Bishop, the future candidate for the Popedom, the great friend of Christendom.

'At all events, my lord cannot expect me to remain in his house under existing circumstances. No, my lord, no; perish York House, before I sleep in it whilst heretics lie under the same roof. Heretics, too, who once dared to insult my guardian, and now affront me in this house.

'Oh, my Lord Cardinal, this is a blow I did not expect from you. Farewell, my lord's greatness; farewell, my hopes of preferment in your grace's mansion. When the days of heresy come, it will be remembered that the Cardinal of York fostered them in his own palace; but let it be remembered, also, that she who dwelt with him as his friend for twenty years, on that day took her departure.

'I shall return to Goldwell Hall, near the seat of my lord's birth, and in that very house where I first knew him, shall I learn to forget him, My Lord Cardinal--Farewell!'

'Alice De Clinton, hear me. One word. Nay--I insist upon giving you an explanation. Care and I have of late been close companions. Greatness and sorrow have been closeted in my soul for these many days. Dignity and distress have been accompanying my lot wheresoever I have gone; and now, Mistress Alice, that I return home, I find that hospitality and heresy are to be the cause of separating Cardinal Wolsey and Alice De Clinton for ever.

'This is what I call a domestic consummation of my calamitous career. I did not think of heresy. I did not think of animosity. I forgot your distaste, and I thought only of my former acquaintance with these friends when I was poor and they were rich; and should I desert them in distress, when the only opportunity I have, or ever may have, in life, to repay them for their early kindness to me, is to befriend them in the day of adversity.

'Shall I forget, Alice, that I am a man, because I am a Cardinal? Is every feeling of gratitude to be totally extinct towards those who have watched over my early years, and helped me in my studies, and befriended me?

'Oh! Alice, if we forget those who have been kind to us in our youth, God will forget us when we grow old. Read that letter from Ellen, and let your heart feel its simplicity and truth, and then say whether I ought or ought not to have exercised the duties of hospitality.'

Alice read it. Yes, she read it. The tears started in her eyes, but they were tears of bitterness, not of love; for love had no share in her proud heart. It was ready to burst with vexation; but without pity. She read it--she returned it; and she looked as if she felt a sovereign contempt for the Cardinal's weakness; but she replied--

'My lord, it is not usual for a judge to entertain his prisoner before he is honorably acquitted; and very seldom then. Judges seldom have innocent persons tried before them. They know well that they are set on high for the punishment of evil men, and not for the encouragement of them.

'My Lord Cardinal is now the judge of this heretic De Freston. Can there be any doubt of his acquittal when he can receive him before trial, and treat him as his most intimate friend?

'My lord has grown wonderfully tender all at once; and merely from this letter. I see nothing in it but the language of a beggar and an impostor--who is now, through my lord's weakness, enjoying the beggar's joy, the glorious reward of imposition; lodging, food, and comfort.

'They smile at your humility, they laugh at your divinity, and they applaud with vociferous exclamations your charity. But how will my lord acquit himself before the Propaganda? All the house of Cardinals will cry out "Wolsey is a heretic." You will acquit De Freston; you must do it for Ellen's sake. Sweet letter, that can make even a Cardinal merciful.

'I leave, my lord. I have a friend's house to go to. I shall at once to Tonstall, and when he hears that his prisoners are your guests, he will at least rejoice that one of your Grace's free servants has sought his protection. Farewell, my Lord Cardinal.'

There are moments in a man's life, even when he is beaten down by his enemies, when his bold spirit is prompt to speak righteousness; witness Wolsey's speech to Suffolk, in reply to his reproach about Cardinals in England. 'If I poor Cardinal had not been, you would not at this present have had a head on your shoulders;' so witness the Cardinal's cool but gentle reply to Mistress Alice De Clinton.

I would rather exercise hospitality to the distressed than punish heretics. The former has pleasure here, and the promise of reward hereafter; the latter was nothing but pain, and great doubt of any satisfaction hereafter. If, therefore, Mistress Alice, the price of thy remaining be the forfeit of the duties of hospitality, I would rather thy departure than thy residence. Farewell.'

A haughty woman cut to the quick by calm wisdom is such a mortified spectacle of discomfort, that it is well she should be hidden in darkness as soon as possible. Her retirement, the more solitary the more congenial. She may brood over her possessions, her hardships, her mortifications, her injuries, her disappointments; but she can never attain any happiness without a change of heart. If that should come, she will be a joyful wonder to herself; if not, she will be a miserable wretch, and live and die unhappy.

Alice De Clinton departed, leaving York Place and its inmates to a day of rest.

The Cardinal summoned Cavendish after the lady's departure; and to him he most graciously unburdened his mind.

'I shall not go out at all to-morrow, but remain entirely within my own walls; but summon the Bishop of London by authority of mine hand, to wait upon me at ten o'clock to-morrow. Remember, Cavendish, that I do not wish it to be known, the cause why I remain at home to-morrow. I have old friends, dear friends, whom I have deserted for many years now sleeping beneath my roof. Let the utmost respect be paid them; for if it were the last day of my grandeur, I could not devote it to a better purpose than the revival of friendship.

'Alas, Master Cavendish, I fear my fortunes will not long stand. How happy I ought to feel that they have stood thus long, so as to permit me to gratify the friends of my youth. Mistress Alice is gone; and I know not how it is, I feel as if a load of care was gone along with her.

'Thou shall sup with me this night. My aged friend did well to retire. I shall have much to talk to thee about; meantime prepare.'

The Cardinal never was so happy, or so truly great, as he was that evening in speaking of all the days of his youth, and relating anecdotes which came, as they always do come, with great grace from great men.

'When great men speak, the falling pin is heard, But when the poor--his case must be deferred.'