Fox's Book of Martyrs - John Foxe (historical books to read TXT) 📗

that he was in bed. He ordered Mary to withdraw, and to serve up breakfast in about two hours time. When Mary was gone, he commanded me to undress myself and come to bed to him. The manner in which he spoke, and the dreadful ideas with which my mind was filled, so terribly frightened me, that I pulled off my cloths, without knowing what I did, and stepped into bed, insensible of the indecency I was transacting: so totally had the care of self preservation absorbed all my other thoughts, and so entirely were the ideas of delicacy obliterated by the force of terror!

Thus, to avoid the dry pan, did I entail upon myself perpetual infamy; and to escape the so much dreaded gradual fire, give myself up to the flames of lust. Wretched alternative, where the only choice is an excruciating death, or everlasting pollution!

Mary came at the expiration of two hours, and served us with chocolate in the most submissive manner; for she kneeled down by the bedside to present it. When I was dressed, Mary took me into a very delightful apartment, which I had never yet seen. It was furnished with the most costly elegance; but what gave me the greatest astonishment was, the prospect from its windows, of a beautiful garden, and a fine meandering river. Mary told me, that the young ladies she had mentioned would come to pay their compliments to me before dinner, and begged me to remember her advice in keeping a prudent guard over my tongue.

In a few minutes a great number of very beautiful young ladies, richly dressed, entered my room, and successively embracing me, wished me joy. I was so surprised, that I was unable to answer their compliments: which one of the ladies perceiving, said, "Madam, the solitude of this place will affect you in the beginning, but whenever you begin to feel the pleasures and amusements you may enjoy, you will quit those pensive thoughts. We, at present, beg the honour of you to dine with us to-day, and henceforward three days in a week." I returned them suitable thanks in general terms, and so went to dinner, in which the most exquisite and savoury dishes, of various kinds, were served up with the most delicate and pleasant fruits and sweetmeats. The room was long, with two tables on each side, and a third in the front. I reckoned fifty-two young ladies, the eldest not exceeding twenty-four years of age. There were five maid-servants besides Mary, to wait upon us; but Mary confined her attention to me alone. After dinner we retired to a capacious gallery, where they played on musical instruments, a few diverted themselves with cards, and the rest amused themselves with walking about. Mary, at length, entered the gallery, and said, ladies, this is a day of recreation, and so you may go into whatever rooms you please till eight o'clock in the evening.

They unanimously agreed to adjourn to my apartment. Here we found a most elegant cold collation, of which all the ladies partook, and passed the time in innocent conversation and harmless mirth; but none mentioned a word concerning the inquisition, or the holy fathers, or gave the least distant hint concerning the cause of their confinement.

At eight o'clock Mary rang a bell, which was a signal for all to retire to their respective apartments, and I was conducted to the chamber of Don Francisco, where I slept. The next morning Mary brought me a richer dress than any I had yet had; and as soon as I retired to my apartment, all the ladies came to wish me good-morning, dressed much richer than the preceding day. We passed the time till eight o'clock in the evening, in much the same manner as we had done the day before. At that time the bell rang, the separation took place, and I was conducted to Don Francisco's chamber. The next morning I had a garment richer than the last, and they accosted me in apparel still more sumptuous than before. The transactions of the two former days were repeated on the third, and the evening concluded in a similar manner.

On the fourth morning Mary came into Don Francisco's chamber and told me I must immediately rise, for a lady wanted me in her own chamber. She spoke with a kind of authority which surprised me; but as Don Francisco did not speak a syllable, I got up and obeyed. Mary then conveyed me into a dismal dungeon, not eight feet in length; and said sternly to me, This is your room, and this lady your bed-fellow and companion. At which words she bounced out of the room, and left me in the utmost consternation.

After remaining a considerable time in the most dreadful agonies tears came to my relief, and I exclaimed, "What is this place, dear lady! Is it a scene of enchantment, or is it a hell upon earth! Alas! I have lost my honour and my soul forever!"

The lady took me by the hand, and said in a sympathizing tone of voice, "Dear sister, (for this is the name I shall henceforth give you) forbear to cry and grieve, for you can do nothing by such an extravagant behaviour, but draw upon yourself a cruel death. Your misfortunes, and those of all the ladies you have seen, are exactly of a piece, you suffer nothing but what we have suffered before you; but we dare not show our grief, for fear of greater evils. Pray take courage, and hope in God, for he will surely deliver us from this hellish place; but be sure you discover no uneasiness before Mary, who is the only instrument either of our torments or comfort. Have patience until we go to bed, and then I will venture to tell you more of the matter."

My perplexity and vexation were inexpressible: but my new companion, whose name was Leonora, prevailed on me to disguise my uneasiness from Mary. I dissembled tolerably well when she came to bring our dinners, but could not help remarking, in my own mind, the difference between this repast, and those I had before partook of. This consisted only of plain, common food, and of that a scanty allowance, with one plate, and one knife and fork for us both, which she took away as soon as we had dined.

When we were in bed, Leonora was as good as her word; and upon my solemn promise of secrecy thus began to open her mind to me.

"My dear sister, you think your case very hard, but I assure you all the ladies in the house have gone through the same. In time, you will know all their stories, as they hope to know yours. I suppose Mary has been the chief instrument of your fright, as she has been of ours; and I warrant she has shown you some horrible places, though not all; and that, at the very thought of them you were so terrified, that you chose the same way we have done to redeem yourself from death. By what hath happened to us, we know that Don Francisco hath been your Nero, your tyrant; for the three colours of our clothes are the distinguishing tokens of the three holy fathers. The red silk belongs to Don Francisco, the blue to Don Guerrero, and the green to Don Aliga; and they always give those colours (after the farce of changing garments and the short-lived recreations are over) to those ladies whom they bring here for their respective uses.

"We are strictly commanded to express all the demonstrations of joy, and to be very merry for three days, when a young lady first comes amongst us, as we did with you, and as you must now do with others. But afterward we live like the most wretched prisoners, without seeing any body but Mary, and the other maid-servants, over whom Mary hath a kind of superiority, for she acts as housekeeper. We all dine in the great hall three days in a week; and when any one of the inquisitors hath a mind for one of his slaves, Mary comes about nine o'clock, and leads her to his apartment.

"Some nights Mary leaves the doors of our chambers open, and that is a token that one of the inquisitors hath a mind to come that night; but he comes so silent that we are ignorant whether he is our patron or not. If one of us happens to be with child, she is removed into a better chamber till she is delivered; but during the whole of her pregnancy, she never sees any body but the person appointed to attend her.

"As soon as the child is born it is taken away, and carried we know not whither; for we never hear a syllable mentioned about it afterward. I have been in this house six years, was not fourteen when the officers took me from my father's house, and have had one child. There are, at this present time, fifty-two young ladies in the house; but we annually lose six or eight, though we know not what becomes of them, or whither they are sent. This, however, does not diminish our number, for new ones are always brought in to supply the place of those who are removed from hence; and I remember, at one time, to have seen seventy-three ladies here together. Our continual torment is to reflect that when they are tired of any of the ladies, they certainly put to death those they pretend to send away; for it is natural to think, that they have too much policy to suffer their atrocious and infernal villanies to be discovered, by enlarging them. Hence our situation is miserable indeed, and we have only to pray that the Almighty will pardon those crimes which we are compelled to commit. Therefore, my dear sister, arm yourself with patience, for that is the only palliative to give you comfort, and put a firm confidence in the providence of Almighty God."

This discourse of Leonora greatly affected me; but I found everything to be as she told me, in the course of time, and I took care to appear as cheerful as possible before Mary. In this manner I continued eighteen months, during which time eleven ladies were taken from the house; but in lieu of them we got nineteen new ones, which made our number just sixty, at the time we were so happily relieved by the French officers, and providentially restored to the joys of society, and to the arms of our parents and friends. On that happy day, the door of my dungeon was opened by the gentleman who is now my husband, and who with the utmost expedition, sent both Leonora and me to his father's; and (soon after the campaign was over) when he returned home, he thought proper to make me his wife, in which situation I enjoy a recompense for all the miseries I before suffered.

From the foregoing narrative it is evident, that the inquisitors are a set of libidinous villains, lost to every just idea of religion, and totally destitute of humanity. Those who possess wealth, beauty, or liberal sentiments, are sure to find enemies in them. Avarice, lust, and prejudice, are their ruling passions; and they sacrifice every law, human and divine, to gratify their predominant desire. Their supposed piety is affectation; their pretended compassion hypocrisy; their justice depends on their will: and their equitable punishments are founded on their prejudices. None are secure from them, all ranks fall equally victims to their pride, their power, their avarice, or their aversion.

Some may suggest, that it is strange crowned heads and eminent nobles, have not attempted to crush the power of the inquisition, and reduce the authority of those ecclesiastical tyrants, from whose merciless fangs neither their families nor themselves