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  So these two rode ever southward, and always Prince Edward found thisnew page of his--this Miguel de Rueda--a jolly lad, who whistled andsang inapposite snatches of balladry, without any formal ending orbeginning, descanting always with the delicate irrelevancy of abird-trill.

  Sang Miguel de Rueda:

  "_Lord Love, that leads me day by day Through many a screened and scented way, Finds to assuage my thirst No love that may the old love slay, None sweeter than the first._

  "_Ah, heart of mine, that beats so fast As this or that fair maid trips past, Once and with lesser stir We spied the heart's-desire, at last, And turned, and followed her._

  "_For Love had come that in the spring When all things woke to blossoming Was as a child that came Laughing, and filled with wondering, Nor knowing his own name--_"

  "And still I would prefer to think," the big man interrupted, heavily,"that Sicily is not the only allure. I would prefer to think my wifeso beautiful-- And yet, as I remember her, she was nothingextraordinary."

  The page a little tartly said that people might forget a deal within adecade.

  For the Prince had quickly fathomed the meaning of the scheme hatchedin Castile. "When Manfred is driven out of Sicily they will give thethrone to de Gatinais. He intends to get both a kingdom and a handsomewife by this neat affair. And in reason England must support my uncleagainst El Sabio. Why, my lad, I ride southward to prevent a war thatwould convulse half Europe."

  "You ride southward in the attempt to rob a miserable woman of her solechance of happiness," Miguel de Rueda estimated.

  "That is undeniable, if she loves this thrifty Prince, as indeed I donot question my wife does. Yet is our happiness here a trivial matter,whereas war is a great disaster. You have not seen--as I have done, mylittle Miguel--a man viewing his death-wound with a face of stupidwonder?--a man about to die in his lord's quarrel and understandingnever a word of it? Or a woman, say--a woman's twisted and naked body,the breasts yet horribly heaving, in the red ashes of some village? orthe already dripping hoofs which will presently crush this body? Well,it is to prevent a many such spectacles hereabout that I ridesouthward."

  Miguel de Rueda shuddered. But, "She has her right to happiness," thepage stubbornly said.

  "Not so," the Prince retorted; "since it hath pleased the Emperor ofHeaven to appoint us twain to lofty stations, to intrust to us the fivetalents of the parable; whence is our debt to Him, being fivefold, somuch the greater than that of common persons. And therefore the moreis it our sole right, being fivefold, to serve God without faltering,and therefore is our happiness, or our unhappiness, the more aninconsiderable matter. For as I have read in the Annals of theRomans--" He launched upon the story of King Pompey and his daughter,whom a certain duke regarded with impure and improper emotions. "Mylittle Miguel, that ancient king is our Heavenly Father, that onlydaughter is the rational soul of us, which is here delivered forprotection to five soldiers--that is, to the five senses--to preserveit from the devil, the world, and the flesh. But, alas! thetoo-credulous soul, desirous of gazing upon the gaudy vapors of thisworld--"

  "You whine like a canting friar," the page complained; "and I canassure you that the Lady Ellinor was prompted rather than hindered byher God-given faculties of sight and hearing and so on when she fell inlove with de Gatinais. Of you two, he is, beyond any question, thehandsomer and the more intelligent man, and it was God who bestowed onher sufficient wit to perceive the fact. And what am I to deduce fromthis?"

  The Prince reflected. At last he said: "I have also read in these sameGestes how Seneca mentions that in poisoned bodies, on account of themalignancy and the coldness of the poison, no worm will engender; butif the body be smitten by lightning, in a few days the carcass willabound with vermin. My little Miguel, both men and women are at birthempoisoned by sin, and then they produce no worm--that is, no virtue;but struck with lightning--that is, by the grace of God--they areastonishingly fruitful in good works."

  The page began to laugh. "You are hopelessly absurd, my Prince, thoughyou will never know it--and I hate you a little--and I envy you a greatdeal."

  "Nay," Prince Edward said, in misapprehension, for the man was neverquick-witted--"nay, it is not for my own happiness that I ridesouthward."

  The page then said. "What is her name?"

  And Prince Edward answered, very fondly, "Hawise."

  "Her, too, I hate," said Miguel de Rueda; "and I think that the holyangels alone know how profoundly I envy her."

  In the afternoon of the same day they neared Ruffec, and at the fordfound three brigands ready, two of whom the Prince slew, and the otherfled.

  Next night they supped at Manneville, and sat afterward in the littlesquare, tree-chequered, that lay before their inn. Miguel had procureda lute from the innkeeper, and strummed idly as these two debatedtogether of great matters; about them was an immeasurable twilight,moonless, but tempered by many stars, and everywhere an agreeableconference of leaves.

  "Listen, my Prince," the boy said more lately: "here is one view of theaffair." And he began to chant, without rhyming, without raising hisvoice above the pitch of talk, what time the lute monotonously sobbedbeneath his fingers.

  Sang Miguel:

  "_A little while and Irus and Menephtah are at sorry unison, andGuenevere is but a skull. Multitudinously we tread toward oblivion, asants hasten toward sugar, and presently Time cometh with his broom.Multitudinously we tread a dusty road toward oblivion; but yonder thesun shines upon a grass-plot, converting it into an emerald; and I amaweary of the trodden path._

  "_Vine-crowned is she that guards the grasses yonder, and her breastsare naked. 'Vanity of Vanities!' saith the beloved. But she whom Ilove seems very far away to-night, though I might be with her if Iwould. And she may not aid me now, for not even love is all-powerful.She is fairest of created women, and very wise, but she may neverunderstand that at any time one grows aweary of the trodden path._

  "_Yet though she cannot understand, this woman who has known me to themarrow, I must obey her laudable behests and serve her blindly. Atsight of her my love closes over my heart like a flood, so that I amspeechless and glory in my impotence, as one who stands at last beforethe kindly face of God. For her sake I have striven, with a goodendeavor, to my tiny uttermost. Pardie, I am not Priam at the head ofhis army! A little while and I will repent; to-night I cannot butremember that there are women whose lips are of a livelier tint, thatlife is short at best, that wine is a goodly thing, and that I amaweary of the trodden path._

  "_She is very far from me to-night. Yonder in the Horselberg theyexult and make sweet songs, songs which are sweeter, immeasurablysweeter, than this song of mine, but in the trodden path I falter, forI am tired, tired in every fibre o' me, and I am aweary of the troddenpath._"

  Followed a silence. "Ignorance spoke there," the Prince said. "It isthe song of a woman, or else of a boy who is very young. Give me thelute, my little Miguel." And presently he, too, sang.

  Sang the Prince:

  "_I was in a path, and I trod toward the citadel of the land'sSeigneur, and on either side were pleasant and forbidden meadows,having various names. And one trod with me who babbled of the broodingmountains and of the low-lying and adjacent clouds; of the west windand of the budding fruit-trees; and he debated the significance ofthese things, and he went astray to gather violets, while I walked inthe trodden path._

  "_He babbled of genial wine and of the alert lips of women, of swingingcensers and of pale-mouthed priests, and his heart was troubled by aworld profuse in beauty. And he leaped a stile to share his allottedprovision with a dying dog, and afterward, being hungry, a wall topilfer apples, what while I walked in the trodden path._

  "_He babbled of Autumn's bankruptcy and of the age-long lying promisesof Spring; and of his own desire to be at rest; and of running watersand of decaying leaves. He babbled of the far-off stars; and hedebated whether they were the eyes of God or gases which
burned, and hedemonstrated, very clearly, that neither existed; and at times hestumbled as he stared about him and munched his apples, so that he wasall bemired, but I walked in the trodden path._

  "_And the path led to the gateway of a citadel, and through thegateway. 'Let us not enter,' he said, 'for the citadel is vacant, and,moreover, I am in profound terror, and, besides, as yet I have noteaten all my apples.' And he wept aloud, but I was not afraid, for Ihad walked in the trodden path._"

  Again there was a silence. "You paint a dreary world, my Prince."

  "Nay, my little Miguel, I do but paint the world as the Eternal Fathermade it. The laws of the place are written large, so that all may readthem; and we know that every path, whether it be my trodden one or somebyway through your gayer meadows, yet leads in the end to God. We haveour choice--or to come to Him as a laborer comes at evening for theday's wages fairly earned, or to come as some roisterer haled beforethe magistrate."

  "I consider you to be in the right," the boy said, after a lengthyinterval, "although I decline--and emphatically--to believe you."

  The Prince laughed. "There spoke Youth," he said, and he sighed asthough he were a patriarch; "but we have sung, we two, the EternalTenson of God's will and of man's desires. And I claim the prize, mylittle Miguel."

  Suddenly the page kissed one huge hand. "You have conquered, my verydull and very glorious Prince. Concerning that Hawise--" but Miguel deRueda choked. "Oh, I understand! in part I understand!" the pagewailed, and now it was Prince Edward who comforted Miguel de Rueda.

  For the Prince laid one hand upon his page's hair, and smiled in thedarkness to note how soft it was, since the man was less a fool than atfirst view you might have taken him to be, and said:

  "One must play the game, my lad. We are no little people, she and I,the children of many kings, of God's regents here on earth; and it wasnever reasonable, my Miguel, that gentlefolk should cog at dice."

  The same night Miguel de Rueda sobbed through the prayer which SaintTheophilus made long ago to the Mother of God:

  "_Dame, je n'ose, Flors d'aiglentier et lis et rose, En qui li filz Diex se repose,_"

  and so on. Or, in other wording: "Hearken, O gracious Lady! thou thatart more fair than any flower of the eglantine, more comely than theblossoming of the rose or of the lily! thou to whom was confided thevery Son of God! Hearken, for I am afraid! afford counsel to me thatam ensnared by Satan and know not what to do! Never will I make an endof praying. O Virgin debonnaire! O honored Lady! Thou that wast oncea woman--!"

  You would have said the boy was dying; and in sober verity a deal ofMiguel de Rueda died upon this night of clearer vision.

  Yet he sang the next day as these two rode southward, although half asin defiance.

  Sang Miguel:

  "_And still, whate'er the years may send-- Though Time be proven a fickle friend, And Love be shown a liar-- I must adore until the end That primal heart's desire._

  "_I may not 'hear men speak of her Unmoved, and vagrant pulses stir Whene'er she passes by, And I again her worshipper Must serve her till I die._

  "_Not she that is doth pass, but she That Time hath riven away from me And in the darkness set-- The maid that I may never see, Or gain, or e'er forget._"

  It was on the following day, near Bazas, these two encountered Adam deGourdon, a Provencal knight, with whom the Prince fought for a longwhile, without either contestant giving way; and in consequence arendezvous was fixed for the November of that year, and afterward thePrince and de Gourdon parted, highly pleased with each other.

  Thus the Prince and his attendant came, in late September, to Mauleon,on the Castilian frontier, and dined there at the _Fir Cone_. Three orfour lackeys were about--some exalted person's retinue? Prince Edwardhazarded to the swart little landlord as the Prince and Miguel lingeredover the remnants of their meal.

  Yes, the fellow informed them: the Prince de Gatinais had lodged therefor a whole week, watching the north road, as circumspect of allpassage as a cat over a mouse-hole. Eh, monseigneur expected some one,doubtless--a lady, it might be--the gentlefolk had their escapades likeevery one else. The innkeeper babbled vaguely, for on a sudden he wasvery much afraid of his gigantic patron.

  "You will show me to his room," Prince Edward said, with a politenessthat was ingratiating.

  The host shuddered and obeyed.

  Miguel de Rueda, left alone, sat quite silent, his fingertips drummingupon the table. He rose suddenly and flung back his shoulders, allresolution to the tiny heels. On the stairway he passed the blacklittle landlord.

  "I think," the little landlord considered, "that Saint Michael musthave been of similar appearance when he went to meet the Evil One. Ho,messire, will there be bloodshed?"

  But Miguel de Rueda had passed to the room above. The door was ajar.He paused there.

  De Gatinais had risen from his dinner and stood facing the door. He,too, was a blond man and the comeliest of his day. And at sight of himawoke in the woman's heart all of the old tenderness; handsome andbrave and witty she knew him to be, past reason, as indeed the wholeworld knew him to be distinguished by every namable grace; and theinnate weakness of de Gatinais, which she alone suspected, made him nowseem doubly dear. Fiercely she wanted to shield him, less from carnalinjury than from that self-degradation she cloudily apprehended to beat hand; the test was come, and Etienne would fail. Thus much she knewwith a sick, illimitable surety, and she loved de Gatinais with apassion which dwarfed comprehension.

  "O Madame the Virgin!" prayed Miguel de Rueda, "thou that wast once awoman, even as I am now a woman! grant that the man may slay himquickly! grant that he may slay Etienne very quickly, honored Lady, sothat my Etienne may die unshamed!"

  "I must question, messire," de Gatinais was saying, "whether you havebeen well inspired. Yes, quite frankly, I do await the arrival of herwho is your nominal wife; and your intervention at this late stage, Itake it, can have no outcome save to render you absurd. Nay, rather beadvised by me, messire--"

  Prince Edward said, "I am not here to talk."

  "For, messire, I grant you that in ordinary disputation the cutting ofone gentleman's throat by another gentleman is well enough, since theargument is unanswerable. Yet in this case we have each of us too muchto live for; you to govern your reconquered England, and I--youperceive that I am candid--to achieve in turn the kingship of anotherrealm. And to secure this, possession of the Lady Ellinor is to meessential; to you she is nothing."

  "She is a woman whom I have deeply wronged," Prince Edward said, "andto whom, God willing, I mean to make atonement. Ten years ago theywedded us, willy-nilly, to avert the impending war 'twixt Spain andEngland; to-day El Sabio intends to purchase all Germany, with her bodyas the price, you to get Sicily as her husband. Mort de Dieu! is awoman thus to be bought and sold like hog's-flesh! We have other andcleaner customs, we of England."

  "Eh, and who purchased the woman first?" de Gatinais spat at him, andviciously, for the Frenchman now saw his air-castle shaken to thecorner-stone.

  "They wedded me to the child in order a great war might be averted. Iacquiesced, since it appeared preferable that two people sufferinconvenience rather than many thousands be slain. And still this ismy view of the matter. Yet afterward I failed her. Love had no clausein our agreement; but I owed her more protection than I have afforded.England has long been no place for women. I thought she wouldcomprehend that much. But I know very little of women. Battle anddeath are more wholesome companions, I now perceive, than such folk asyou and Alphonso. Woman is the weaker vessel--the negligence wasmine--I may not blame her." The big and simple man was in an agony ofrepentance.

  On a sudden he strode forward, his sword now shifted to his left handand his right hand outstretched. "One and all, we are but weaklings inthe net of circumstance. Shall one herring, then, blame his fellow ifhis fellow jostle him? We walk as in a mist of error, and Belial isfertile in allurements; yet al
ways it is granted us to behold that sinis sin. I have perhaps sinned through anger, Messire de Gatinais, moredeeply than you have planned to sin through luxury and throughambition. Let us then cry quits, Messire de Gatinais, and afterwardpart in peace, and in common repentance, if you so elect."

  "And yield you Ellinor?" de Gatinais said. "Nay, messire, I reply toyou with Arnaud de Marveil, that marvellous singer of eld, 'They maybear her from my presence, but they can never untie the knot whichunites my heart to her; for that heart, so tender and so constant, Godalone divides with my lady, and the portion which God possesses Heholds but as a part of her domain, and as her vassal.'"

  "This is blasphemy," Prince Edward now retorted, "and for suchobservations alone you merit death. Will you always talk and talk andtalk? I perceive that the devil is far more subtle than you, messire,and leads you like a pig with a ring in his nose toward gross iniquity.Messire, I tell you that for your soul's health I doubly mean to killyou now. So let us make an end of this."

  De Gatinais turned and took up his sword. "Since you will have it," herather regretfully said; "yet I reiterate that you play an absurd part.Your wife has deserted you, has fled in abhorrence of you. For threeweeks she has been tramping God knows whither or in what company--"

  He was here interrupted. "What the Lady Ellinor has done," PrinceEdward crisply said, "was at my request. We were wedded at Burgos; itwas most natural that we should desire our reunion to take place atBurgos; and she came to Burgos with an escort which I provided."