CHAPTER I
The Miracle
All the good people, fresh-blessed, came forth into the churchyardwith a great pushing and striving. There was a Miracle Play toward,and to stand at the back of five-and-twenty score of tiptoeingLondoners was to see nothing. Sweating shopkeepers jostled and swore,women squealed, and 'prentices drove their elbows into any fat paunchthat was neighbourly. Here and there, above the press, a child rode onits father's shoulder, and if 't was a merry child it kicked off thewomen's headgear and tweaked the ears of Robyn and Hikke and Jack.
"Stand off,--stand off, a four-foot space from Hell Mouth!" criedBeelzebub, coming to earth unexpected; "there be sparks! I 'll notanswer for 't if ay one take fire."
"Look ye, look ye!" roared Sathanas, thrusting up his head, "here'ssome thieving fellow hath filched my tail while I was to Mass. 'T is apoor jest. Now, by St. Christopher, I swear I say no word o' my partif the tail lack."
There went up a laugh from the company, and one cried: "Give the dumbbeast his tail that he may speak!" And, on a sudden, flew over theheads of the people a something red, in shape like an eel, and fellupon Sathanas' head, whereat he grunted and withdrew head and tailtogether.
And now Hell Mouth opened and spat fire, and after tumbled forth arout of devils, big and little, that pranced and mowed, the while thepeople laughed and cast them back jest for jest. Was one brawny fiend,a blacksmith by trade, that came to the edge of the stage and, lookingbackward, with chin uppermost, through his squatted legs, set hisfingers in the corners of his mouth and his eyes, and did so make ofhimself a monster that a little maid which stood in the forefront ofthe multitude must needs shriek and start, so that her kerchief fellawry.
Saith a yeoman, blinking on her ruffled hair: "I cannot see for thesun in my eyen," and laid his great hand on her fair head thatperforce she must turn her face would she or no.
"By St. Jame!" cried the man, thereupon; "here's no ba'rn, but a maid,with a mouth ripe for kissing!" And so bent to taste her lips. But shecried out and struggled to be free, and swift, a gloved hand thrustthe yeoman's face aside, and a voice that had a twist of French in itrated him so that he shrank backward glowering.
The blacksmith, meanwhile, being set right side forward, stood noddinga genial horned approval:
"An I had not been so be-twisted, I had given him a crack!" he said,and, turning rueful, added: "Dost not know me, child? I be Hobbe Smiththat dwell two doors below thee. I did but mean to make thee merry."
And the maid gave him a pale smile.
"If thou stand o' this side, out of the press, still mayst thou see,"said he of the gloved hand.
"I came not so close to see the devils," answered the maid, blushing,"but for that cometh after;" and she followed him apart.
Then come Mercy and Truth across the middle stage, and are mettogether, and Peace and Rightwisnesse, that kissed the one the other,prating sweetly of Christ risen from the dead. And the devils arebegun to make moan, and they have locked Hell Mouth with a great keyand laid a bar across. And said this squire that stood beside themaid:--
"By 'r Lady!--who writ this is no common patcher o' miracles, but atrue poet!"
"'T is my father," quoth she.
And he: "Nay, then, I knew thee for a poem. Is thy name Guenevere?Such eyes had Guenevere,--such hair."
"I am Will Langland's daughter; I am Calote," she said.
There had lately come two men through the crowd. By their aspect theywere not Londoners, yet they seemed acquainted well enough with whatthey saw. Now one of these, a black-browed fellow with thin, tightlips, large nose, and sallow visage, spoke to the squire, saying:--
"All poets of England do not pipe for John o' Gaunt. This one hathchose to make music for the ears of common folk."
"Natheless 't is tuned to ears more delicate," the squire made answer,looking always on the maiden; and then, "Calote, thou sayst? 'T isNicolette in little, is 't not?" And presently after, "Nicolette had asquire.--I would I were thy squire."
But Calote had turned her to the Miracle, and the youth saw only aflushing cheek.
"'T is a long while that Mercy and Truth are not met together inEngland, Jack," said the countryman to his fellow, sourly.
"Yea, Wat," the other answered; "and afore Peace cometh War."
"And afore Rightwisnesse"--said he of the black brows, and paused, andlooked about him meaningly, and cast his arms to right and left. Andnow the Miracle was done, and Christ had narrowed Hell, and sat onhigh with the Trinity.