CHAPTER XXVIII
CHRISTMAS WITH QUEEN BESS
Christmas morning came and went as if on swallow-wings, in a gale ofroyal merriment. Four hundred sat to dinner that day in Greenwich halls,and all the palace streamed with banners and green garlands.
Within the courtyard two hundred horses neighed and stamped around awater-fountain playing in a bowl of ice and evergreen. Grooms and pages,hostlers and dames, went hurry-scurrying to and fro; cooks, bakers, andscullions steamed about, leaving hot, mouth-watering streaks offragrance in the air; bluff men-at-arms went whistling here and there;and serving-maids with rosy cheeks ran breathlessly up and down thewinding stairways.
The palace stirred like a mighty pot that boils to its utmost verge, forthe hour of the revelries was come.
Over the beech-wood and far across the black heath where Jack Cademarshaled the men of Kent, the wind trembled with the boom of the castlebell. Within the walls of the palace its clang was muffled by a sound ofvoices that rose and fell like the wind upon the sea.
The ambassadors of Venice and France were there, with their courtlytrains. The Lord High Constable of England was come to sit below theQueen. The earls, too, of Southampton, Montgomery, Pembroke, andHuntington were there; and William Cecil, Lord Burleigh, the Queen'sHigh Treasurer, to smooth his care-lined forehead with a Yuletide jest.
Up from the entry ports came shouts of "Room! room! room for my LordStrange! Room for the Duke of Devonshire!" and about the outer gatesthere was a tumult like the cheering of a great crowd.
The palace corridors were lined with guards. Gentlemen pensioners underarms went flashing to and fro. Now and then through the inner throngsome handsome page with wind-blown hair and rainbow-colored cloak pushedto the great door, calling: "Way, sirs, way for my Lord--way for my Ladyof Alderstone!" and one by one, or in blithe groups, the courtiers, cladin silks and satins, velvets, jewels, and lace of gold, came up throughthe lofty folding-doors to their places in the hall.
There, where the Usher of the Black Rod stood, and the gentlemen of thechamber came and went with golden chains about their necks, was bowingand scraping without stint, and reverent civility; for men that werewise and noble were passing by, men that were handsome and brave; andladies sweet as a summer day, and as fair to see as spring, laughed bytheir sides and chatted behind their fans, or daintily nibbled comfits,lacking anything to say.
The windows were all curtained in, making a night-time in midday; andfrom the walls and galleries flaring links and great bouquets of candlesthrew an eddying flood of yellow light across the stirring scene. Fromclump to clump of banner-staves and burnished arms, spiked above thewainscot, garlands of red-berried holly, spruce, and mistletoe weretwined across the tapestry, till all the room was bound about with achain of living green.
There were sweet odors floating through the air, and hazy threads offragrant smoke from perfumes burning in rich braziers; and under footwas the crisp, clean rustle of new rushes.
From time to time, above the hum of voices, came the sound of music froma room beyond--cornets and flutes, fifes, lutes, and harps, with anorgan exquisitely played, and voices singing to it; and from behind theplayers' curtain, swaying slowly on its rings at the back of the stage,came a murmur of whispering childish voices, now high in eagerquestioning, now low, rehearsing some doubtful fragment of a song.
Behind the curtain it was dark--not total darkness, but twilight; for adull glow came down overhead from the lights in the hall without, andfaint yellow bars went up and down the dusk from crevices in the screen.The boys stood here and there in nervous groups. Now and then a sharpcomplaint was heard from the tire-woman when an impatient lad would notstand still to be dressed.
Master Gyles went to and fro, twisting the manuscript of the Revel inhis hands, or pausing kindly to pat some faltering lad upon the back.Nick and Colley were peeping by turns through a hole in the screen atthe throng in the audience-chamber.
They could see a confusion of fans, jewels, and faces, and now and againcould hear a burst of subdued laughter over the steadily increasing buzzof voices. Then from the gallery above, all at once there came a murmurof instruments tuning together; a voice in the corridor was heardcalling, "Way here, way here!" in masterful tones; the tallfolding-doors at the side of the hall swung wide, and eight dapper pagesin white and gold came in with the Master of Revels. After them camefifty ladies and noblemen clad in white and gold, and a guard ofgentlemen pensioners with glittering halberds.
There was a sharp rustle. Every head in the audience-chamber louted low.Nick's heart gave a jump--for the Queen was there!
She came with an air that was at once serious and royal, bearing herselfhaughtily, yet with a certain grace and sprightliness that became hervery well. She was quite tall and well made, and her quickly changingface was long and fair, though wrinkled and no longer young. Hercomplexion was clear and of an olive hue; her nose was a little hooked;her firm lips were thin; and her small black eyes, though keen andbright, were pleasant and merry withal. Her hair was a coppery, tawnyred, and false, moreover. In her ears hung two great pearls; and therewas a fine small crown studded with diamonds upon her head, beside anecklace of exceeding fine gold and jewels about her neck. She wasattired in a white silk gown bordered with pearls the size of beans, andover it wore a mantle of black silk, cunningly shot with silver threads.Her ruff was vast, her farthingale vaster; and her train, which was verylong, was borne by a marchioness who made more ado about it thanElizabeth did of ruling her realm.
"The Queen!" gasped Colley.
"Dost think I did na know it?" answered Nick, his heart beginning tobeat tattoo as he stared through the peep-hole in the screen.
He saw the great folk bowing like a gardenful of flowers in a storm, andin its midst Elizabeth erect, speaking to those about her in a livelyand good-humored way, and addressing all the foreigners according totheir tongue--in French, Italian, Spanish, Dutch; but hers was funnyDutch, and while she spoke she smiled and made a joke upon it in Latin,at which they all laughed heartily, whether they understood what itmeant or not. Then, with her ladies in waiting, she passed to a daisnear the stage, and stood a moment, stately, fair, and proud, while allher nobles made obeisance, then sat and gave a signal for the playersto begin.
"Rafe Fullerton!" the prompter whispered shrilly; and out from behindthe screen slipped Rafe, the smallest of them all, and down the stage tospeak the foreword of the piece. He was frightened, and his voice shookas he spoke, but every one was smiling, so he took new heart.
"It is a masque of Summer-time and Spring," said he, "wherein bothclaim to be best-loved, and have their say of wit and humor, and eachher part of songs and dances suited to her time, the sprightly galliardand the nimble jig for Spring, the slow pavone, the stately peacockdance, for Summer-time. And win who may, fair Summer-time or merrySpring, the winner is but that beside our Queen!"--with which he snappedhis fingers in the faces of them all--"God save Queen Bess!"
At that the Queen's eyes twinkled, and she nodded, highly pleased, sothat every one clapped mightily.
The play soon ran its course amid great laughter and applause. Springwon. The English ever loved her best, and the quick-paced galliard tooktheir fancy, too. "Up and be doing!" was its tune, and it gave one achance to cut fine capers with his heels.
Then the stage stood empty and the music stopped.
At this strange end a whisper of surprise ran through the hall. TheQueen tapped with the inner side of her rings upon the broad arm of herchair. From the look on her face she was whetting her tongue. But beforeshe could speak, Nick and Colley, dressed as a farmer boy and girl, witha garland of house-grown flowers about them, came down the stage fromthe arras, hand in hand, bowing.
The audience-chamber grew very still--_this_ was something new. Nickfelt a swallowing in his throat, and Colley's hand winced in his grip.There was no sound but a silky rustling in the room.
Then suddenly the boys behind the players' curtain laughed together,not loud
, but such a jolly little laugh that all the people smiled tohear it. After the laughter came a hush.
Then the pipes overhead made a merry sound as of shepherds piping onoaten straws in new grass where there are daisies; and there was alittle elfish laughter of clarionets, and a fluttering among the coolflutes like spring wind blowing through crisp young leaves in April. Theharps began to pulse and throb with a soft cadence like raindropsfalling into a clear pool where brown leaves lie upon the bottom andbubbles float above green stones and smooth white pebbles. Nick liftedup his head and sang.
It was a happy little song of the coming and the triumph of the spring.The words were all forgotten long ago. They were not much: enough toserve the turn, no more; but the notes to which they went were like barnswallows twittering under the eaves, goldfinches clinking in purpleweeds beside old roads, and robins singing in common gardens at dawn.And wherever Nick's voice ran Colley's followed, the pipes laughingafter them a note or two below; while the flutes kept gurgling softly tothemselves as a hill brook gurgles through the woods, and the harps rangently up and down like rain among the daffodils. One voice called, theother answered; there were echo-like refrains; and as they sang Nick'sheart grew full. He cared not a stiver for the crowd, the golden palace,or the great folk there--the Queen no more--he only listened forColley's voice coming up lovingly after his own and running away when hefollowed it down, like a lad and a lass through the bloom of the May.And Colley was singing as if his heart would leap out of his round mouthfor joy to follow after the song they sung, till they came to the endand the skylark's song.
There Colley ceased, and Nick went singing on alone, forgetting, caringfor, heeding nought but the song that was in his throat.
The Queen's fan dropped from her hand upon the floor. No one saw it orpicked it up. The Venetian ambassador scarcely breathed.
Nick came down the stage, his hands before him, lifted as if he saw thevery lark he followed with his song, up, up, up into the sun. His cheekswere flushed and his eyes were wet, though his voice was a song and alaugh in one.
Then they were gone behind the curtain, into the shadow and the twilightthere, Colley with his arms about Nick's neck, not quite laughing, notquite sobbing. The manuscript of the Revel lay torn in two upon thefloor, and Master Gyles had a foot upon each piece.
In the hall beyond the curtain was a silence that was deeper than ahush, a stillness rising from the hearts of men.
Then Elizabeth turned in the chair where she sat. Her eyes were asbright as a blaze. And out of the sides of her eyes she looked at theVenetian ambassador. He was sitting far out on the edge of his chair,and his lips had fallen apart. She laughed to herself. "It is a goodsong, signor," said she, and those about her started at the sound of hervoice. "_Chi tace confessa--_it is so! There are no songs like Englishsongs--there is no spring like an English spring--there is no land likeEngland, _my_ England!" She clapped her hands. "I will speak with thoselads," said she.
Straightway certain pages ran through the press and came behind thecurtain where Nick and Colley stood together, still trembling with themusic not yet gone out of them, and brought them through the hall towhere the Queen sat, every one whispering, "Look!" as they passed.
On the dais they knelt together, bowing, side by side. Elizabeth, with akindly smile, leaning a little forward, raised them with her slenderhand. "Stand, dear lads," said she, heartily. "Be lifted up by thine ownsinging, as our hearts have been uplifted by thy song. And name me theprice of that same song--'twas sweeter than the sweetest song we everheard before."
"Or ever shall hear again," said the Venetian ambassador, under hisbreath, rubbing his forehead as if just wakening out of a dream.
"Come," said Elizabeth, tapping Colley's cheek with her fan, "what wiltthou have of me, fair maid?"
Colley turned red, then very pale. "That I may stay in the palaceforever and sing for your Majesty," said he. His fingers shiveredin Nick's.
"Now that is right prettily asked," she cried, and was well pleased."Thou shalt indeed stay for a singing page in our household--a voice anda face like thine are merry things upon a rainy Monday. And thou, MasterLark," said she, fanning the hair back from Nick's forehead with herperfumed fan--"thou that comest up out of the field with a song like theangels sing--what wilt thou have: that thou mayst sing in our choir andplay on the lute for us?"
Nick looked up at the torches on the wall, drawing a deep, long breath.When he looked down again his eyes were dazzled and he could not seethe Queen.
"What wilt thou have?" he heard her ask.
"Let me go home," said he.
There were red and green spots in the air. He tried to count them, sincehe could see nothing else, and everything was very still; but they allran into one purple spot which came and went like a firefly's glow, andin the middle of the purple spot he saw the Queen's face comingand going.
"Surely, boy, that is an ill-considered speech," said she, "or thou dostdeem us very poor, or most exceeding stingy!" Nick hung his head, forthe walls seemed tapestried with staring eyes. "Or else this home ofthine must be a very famous place."
The maids of honour tittered. Further off somebody laughed. Nick lookedup, and squared his shoulders.
They had rubbed the cat the wrong way.
It is hard to be a stranger in a palace, young, country-bred, andlaughed at all at once; but down in Nick Attwood's heart was a stubbornstreak that all the flattery on earth could not cajole nor ridiculeefface. He might be simple, shy, and slow, but what he loved he loved:that much he knew; and when they laughed at him for loving home theyseemed to mock not him, but home--and _that_ touched the fighting-spot.
"I would rather be there than here," said he.
The Queen's face flushed. "Thou art more curt than courteous," said she."Is it not good enough for thee here?"
"I could na live in such a place."
The Queen's eyes snapped. "In such a place? Marry, art thou so choice?These others find no fault with the life."
"Then they be born to it," said Nick, "or they could abide no more thanI--they would na fit."
"Haw, haw!" said the Lord High Constable.
The Queen shot one quick glance at him. "Old pegs have been made to fitnew holes before to-day," said she; "and the trick can be done again."The Constable smothered the rest of that laugh in his hand, "But come,boy, speak up; what hath put thee so out of conceit with ourbest-beloved palace?"
"There is na one thing likes me here. I can na bide in a place so fine,for there's not so much as a corner in it feels like home. I could nasleep in the bed last night."
"What, how? We commanded good beds!" exclaimed Elizabeth, angrily, forthe Venetian ambassador was smiling in his beard. "This shall beseen to."
"Oh, it _was_ a good bed--a very good bed indeed, your Majesty!" criedNick. "But the mattress puffed up like a cloud in a bag, and almostsmothered me; and it was so soft and so hot that it gave me a fever."
Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and laughed. The Lord High Constablehastily finished the laugh that he had hidden in his hand. Everybodylaughed. "Upon my word," said the Queen, "it is an odd skylark cannotsleep in feathers! What didst thou do, forsooth?"
"I slept in the coverlid on the floor," said Nick. "It was na hurt,--Idusted the place well,--and I slept like a top."
"Now verily," laughed Elizabeth, "if it be floors that thou dost desire,we have acres to spare--thou shalt have thy pick of the lot. Come, weare ill used to begging people to be favored--thou'lt stay?"
Nick shook his head.
"_Ma foi!"_ exclaimed the Queen, "it is a queer fancy makes a face atsuch a pleasant dwelling! What is it sticks in thy throat?"
Nick stood silent. What was there to say? If he came here he never wouldsee Stratford town again; and _this_ was no abiding-place for him. Theywould not even let him go to the fountain himself to draw water withwhich to wash, but fetched it, three at a time, in a silver ewer and acopper basin with towels and a flask of perfume.
Elizabet
h was tapping with her fan. "Thou art be-dazzled like," shesaid. "Think twice--preferment does not gooseberry on the hedge-rowevery day; and this is a rare chance which hangs ripening on thy tongue.Consider well. Come, thou wilt accept?"
Nick slowly shook his head.
"Go then, if thou wilt go!" said she; and as she spoke she shrugged hershoulders, illy pleased, and turning toward Colley, took him by the handand drew him closer to her, smiling at his guise. "Thy comrade hathmore wit."
"He hath no mother," Nick said quietly, loosing his hold at last onColley's hand. "I would rather have my mother than his wit."
Elizabeth turned sharply back. Her keen eyes were sparkling, yet soft.
"Thou art no fool," said she.
A little murmur ran through the room.
She sat a moment, silent, studying his face. "Or if thou art, upon myword I like the breed. It is a stubborn, froward dog; but Hold-fast ishis name. Ay, sirs," she said, and sat up very straight, looking intothe faces of her court, "Brag is a good dog, but Hold-fast is better. Alad who loves his mother thus makes a man who loveth his nativeland--and it's no bad streak in the blood. Master Skylark, thou shalthave thy wish; to London thou shalt go this very night."
"I do na live in London," Nick began.
"What matters the place?" said she. "Live wheresoever thine heart dothplease. It is enough--so. Thou mayst kiss our hand." She held her handout, bright with jewels. He knelt and kissed it as if it were all adoing in a dream, or in some unlikely story he had read. But a longwhile after he could smell the perfume from her slender fingers onhis lips.
Then a page standing by him touched his arm as he arose, and bowingbackward from the throne, came with him to the curtain and the rest. OldMaster Gyles was standing there apart. It was too dark to see his face,but he laid his hand upon Nick's head.
"Thy cake is burned to a coal," said he.