CHAPTER I. EARL WARWICK THE KING-MAKER.
The young men entered the Strand, which, thanks to the profits of atoll-bar, was a passable road for equestrians, studded towards theriver, as we have before observed, with stately and half-fortifiedmansions; while on the opposite side, here and there, were stragglinghouses of a humbler kind,--the mediaeval villas of merchant and trader(for, from the earliest period since the Conquest, the Londoners haddelight in such retreats), surrounded with blossoming orchards, [Onall sides, without the suburbs, are the citizens' gardens and orchards,etc.--FITZSTEPHEN.] and adorned in front with the fleur-de-lis, emblemof the vain victories of renowned Agincourt. But by far the greaterportion of the road northward stretched, unbuilt upon, towards afair chain of fields and meadows, refreshed by many brooks, "turningwater-mills with a pleasant noise." High rose, on the thoroughfare,the famous Cross, at which "the Judges Itinerant whilome sate, withoutLondon." [Stowe.] There, hallowed and solitary, stood the inn for thepenitent pilgrims, who sought "the murmuring runnels" of St. Clement'shealing well; for in this neighbourhood, even from the age of the Roman,springs of crystal wave and salubrious virtue received the homage ofcredulous disease. Through the gloomy arches of the Temple Gate andLud, our horsemen wound their way, and finally arrived in safety atMarmaduke's hostelrie in the East Chepe. Here Marmaduke found thedecorators of his comely person already assembled. The simpler yet moremanly fashions he had taken from the provinces were now exchanged for anattire worthy the kinsman of the great minister of a court unparalleled,since the reign of William the Red King, for extravagant gorgeousness ofdress. His corset was of the finest cloth, sown with seed pearls; aboveit the lawn shirt, worn without collar, partially appeared, fringedwith gold; over this was loosely hung a super-tunic of crimson sarcenet,slashed and pounced with a profusion of fringes. His velvet cap,turned up at the sides, extended in a point far over the forehead. Hishose--under which appellation is to be understood what serves us of themodern day both for stockings and pantaloons--were of white cloth; andhis shoes, very narrow, were curiously carved into chequer work at theinstep, and tied with bobbins of gold thread, turning up like skatesat the extremity, three inches in length. His dagger was suspended by aslight silver-gilt chain, and his girdle contained a large gipsire, orpouch, of embossed leather, richly gilt.
And this dress, marvellous as it seemed to the Nevile, the tailorgravely assured him was far under the mark of the highest fashion,and that an' the noble youth had been a knight, the shoes would havestretched at least three inches farther over the natural length of thefeet, the placard have shone with jewels, and the tunic luxuriated inflowers of damacene. Even as it was, however, Marmaduke felt a naturaldiffidence of his habiliments, which cost him a round third of hiswhole capital; and no bride ever unveiled herself with more shamefacedbashfulness than did Marmaduke Nevile experience when he remounted hishorse, and, taking leave of his foster-brother, bent his way to WarwickLane, where the earl lodged.
The narrow streets were, however, crowded with equestrians whose dresseclipsed his own, some bending their way to the Tower, some to thepalaces of the Flete. Carriages there were none, and only twice heencountered the huge litters, in which some aged prelate or somehigh-born dame veiled greatness from the day. But the frequent vistasto the river gave glimpses of the gay boats and barges that crowded theThames, which was then the principal thoroughfare for every class, butmore especially the noble. The ways were fortunately dry and clean forLondon, though occasionally deep holes and furrows in the road menacedperils to the unwary horseman. The streets themselves might welldisappoint in splendour the stranger's eye; for although, viewed at adistance, ancient London was incalculably more picturesque and statelythan the modern, yet when fairly in its tortuous labyrinths, it seemedto those who had improved the taste by travel the meanest and themirkiest capital of Christendom. The streets were marvellously narrow,the upper stories, chiefly of wood, projecting far over the lower, whichwere formed of mud and plaster. The shops were pitiful booths, and the'prentices standing at the entrance bare-headed and cap in hand, andlining the passages, as the old French writer avers, comme idoles,[Perlin] kept up an eternal din with their clamorous invitations,often varied by pert witticisms on some churlish passenger, or loudvituperations of each other. The whole ancient family of the Londoncriers were in full bay. Scarcely had Marmaduke's ears recoveredthe shock of "Hot peascods,--all hot!" than they were saluted with"Mackerel!" "Sheep's feet! hot sheep's feet!" At the smaller tavernsstood the inviting vociferaters of "Cock-pie," "Ribs of beef,--hotbeef!" while, blended with these multi-toned discords, whined thevielle, or primitive hurdy-gurdy, screamed the pipe, twanged the harp,from every quarter where the thirsty paused to drink, or the idler stoodto gape. [See Lydgate: London Lyckpenny.]
Through this Babel Marmaduke at last slowly wound his way, and arrivedbefore the mighty mansion in which the chief baron of England held hisstate.
As he dismounted and resigned his steed to the servitor hired for him byAlwyn, Marmaduke paused a moment, struck by the disparity, common asit was to eyes more accustomed to the metropolis, between the statelyedifice and the sordid neighbourhood. He had not noticed this so muchwhen he had repaired to the earl's house on his first arrival in London,for his thoughts then had been too much bewildered by the generalbustle and novelty of the scene; but now it seemed to him that he bettercomprehended the homage accorded to a great noble in surveying, at aglance, the immeasurable eminence to which he was elevated above hisfellow-men by wealth and rank.
Far on either side of the wings of the earl's abode stretched, innumerous deformity, sheds rather than houses, of broken plaster andcrazy timbers. But here and there were open places of public reception,crowded with the lower followers of the puissant chief; and the eyerested on many idle groups of sturdy swash-bucklers, some half-cladin armour, some in rude jerkins of leather, before the doors of theseresorts,--as others, like bees about a hive, swarmed in and out with aperpetual hum.
The exterior of Warwick House was of a gray but dingy stone, andpresented a half-fortified and formidable appearance. The windows, orrather loop-holes, towards the street were few, and strongly barred.The black and massive arch of the gateway yawned between two huge squaretowers; and from a yet higher but slender tower on the inner side, theflag gave the "White Bear and Ragged Staff" to the smoky air. Still,under the portal as he entered, hung the grate of the portcullis, andthe square court which he saw before him swarmed with the moreimmediate retainers of the earl, in scarlet jackets, wrought withtheir chieftain's cognizance. A man of gigantic girth and stature,who officiated as porter, leaning against the wall under the arch, nowemerged from the shadow, and with sufficient civility demanded the youngvisitor's name and business. On hearing the former, he bowed low as hedoffed his hat, and conducted Marmaduke through the first quadrangle.The two sides to the right and left were devoted to the offices androoms of retainers, of whom no less than six hundred, not to speak ofthe domestic and more orderly retinue, attested the state of the Last ofthe English Barons on his visits to the capital. Far from being then, asnow, the object of the great to thrust all that belongs to the serviceof the house out of sight, it was their pride to strike awe into thevisitor by the extent of accommodation afforded to their followers: someseated on benches of stone ranged along the walls; some grouped in thecentre of the court; some lying at length upon the two oblong patches ofwhat had been turf, till worn away by frequent feet,--this domesticarmy filled the young Nevile with an admiration far greater than thegay satins of the knights and nobles who had gathered round the lord ofMontagu and Northumberland at the pastime-ground.
This assemblage, however, were evidently under a rude discipline oftheir own. They were neither noisy nor drunk. They made way with surlyobeisance as the cavalier passed, and closing on his track like somehorde of wild cattle, gazed after him with earnest silence, and thenturned once more to their indolent whispers with each other.
And now Nevile entered the last side of the quadrangle.
The huge hall,divided from the passage by a screen of stone fretwork, so fine as toattest the hand of some architect in the reign of Henry III., stretchedto his right; and so vast, in truth, it was, that though more than fiftypersons were variously engaged therein, their number was lost in theimmense space. Of these, at one end of the longer and lower tablebeneath the dais, some squires of good dress and mien were engaged atchess or dice; others were conferring in the gloomy embrasures ofthe casements; some walking to and fro, others gathered round theshovel-board. At the entrance of this hall the porter left Marmaduke,after exchanging a whisper with a gentleman whose dress eclipsed theNevile's in splendour; and this latter personage, who, though of highbirth, did not disdain to perform the office of chamberlain, or usher,to the king-like earl, advanced to Marmaduke with a smile, and said,--
"My lord expects you, sir, and has appointed this time to receive you,that you may not be held back from his presence by the crowds that craveaudience in the forenoon. Please to follow me!" This said, the gentlemanslowly preceded the visitor, now and then stopping to exchange afriendly word with the various parties he passed in his progress; forthe urbanity which Warwick possessed himself, his policy inculcated asa duty on all who served him. A small door at the other extremity of thehall admitted into an anteroom, in which some half score pages, the sonsof knights and barons, were gathered round an old warrior, placedat their head as a sort of tutor, to instruct them in all knightlyaccomplishments; and beckoning forth one of these youths from the ring,the earl's chamberlain said, with a profound reverence, "Will you bepleased, my young lord, to conduct your cousin, Master Marmaduke Nevile,to the earl's presence?" The young gentleman eyed Marmaduke with asupercilious glance.
"Marry!" said he, pertly, "if a man born in the North were to feed allhis cousins, he would soon have a tail as long as my uncle, the stoutearl's. Come, sir cousin, this way." And without tarrying even togive Nevile information of the name and quality of his new-foundrelation,--who was no less than Lord Montagu's son, the sole maleheir to the honours of that mighty family, though now learning theapprenticeship of chivalry amongst his uncle's pages,--the boypassed before Marmaduke with a saunter, that, had they been in plainWestmoreland, might have cost him a cuff from the stout hand of theindignant elder cousin. He raised the tapestry at one end of the room,and ascending a short flight of broad stairs, knocked gently on thepanels of an arched door sunk deep in the walls.
"Enter!" said a clear, loud voice, and the next moment Marmaduke was inthe presence of the King-maker.
He heard his guide pronounce his name, and saw him smile maliciously atthe momentary embarrassment the young man displayed, as the boy passedby Marmaduke, and vanished. The Earl of Warwick was seated near adoor that opened upon an inner court, or rather garden, which gavecommunication to the river. The chamber was painted in the style ofHenry III., with huge figures representing the battle of Hastings,or rather, for there were many separate pieces, the conquest of SaxonEngland. Over each head, to enlighten the ignorant, the artist had takenthe precaution to insert a label, which told the name and the subject.The ceiling was groined, vaulted, and emblazoned with the richestgilding and colours. The chimneypiece (a modern ornament) rose to theroof, and represented in bold reliefs, gilt and decorated, the signingof Magna Charta. The floor was strewed thick with dried rushes andodorous herbs; the furniture was scanty, but rich. The low-backedchairs, of which there were but four, carved in ebony, had cushionsof velvet with fringes of massive gold; a small cupboard, or beaufet,covered with carpetz de cuir (carpets of gilt and painted leather),of great price, held various quaint and curious ornaments of plateinwrought with precious stones; and beside this--a singular contrast--ona plain Gothic table lay the helmet, the gauntlets, and the battle-axeof the master. Warwick himself, seated before a large, cumbrous desk,was writing,--but slowly and with pain,--and he lifted his finger asthe Nevile approached, in token of his wish to conclude a task probablylittle congenial to his tastes. But Marmaduke was grateful for themoments afforded him to recover his self-possession, and to examine hiskinsman.
The earl was in the lusty vigour of his age. His hair, of the deepestblack, was worn short, as if in disdain of the effeminate fashions ofthe day; and fretted bare from the temples by the constant and earlyfriction of his helmet, gave to a forehead naturally lofty yet moremajestic appearance of expanse and height. His complexion, though darkand sunburned, glowed with rich health. The beard was closely shaven,and left in all its remarkable beauty the contour of the oval face andstrong jaw,--strong as if clasped in iron. The features were marked andaquiline, as was common to those of Norman blood. The form spare, but ofprodigious width and depth of chest, the more apparent from the fashionof the short surcoat, which was thrown back, and left in broad expansea placard, not of holiday velvet and satins, but of steel polished as amirror, and inlaid with gold. And now as, concluding his task, the earlrose and motioned Marmaduke to a stool by his side, his great stature,which, from the length of his limbs, was not so observable when he sat,actually startled his guest. Tall as Marmaduke was himself, the earltowered [The faded portrait of Richard Nevile, Earl of Warwick, in theRous Roll, preserved at the Herald's College, does justice, at least, tothe height and majesty of his stature. The portrait of Edward IV. is theonly one in that long series which at all rivals the stately proportionsof the King-maker.] above him,--with his high, majestic, smooth,unwrinkled forehead,--like some Paladin of the rhyme of poet orromancer; and, perhaps, not only in this masculine advantage, but inthe rare and harmonious combination of colossal strength with gracefullightness, a more splendid union of all the outward qualities we areinclined to give to the heroes of old never dazzled the eye or impressedthe fancy. But even this effect of mere person was subordinate to thatwhich this eminent nobleman created--upon his inferiors, at least--bya manner so void of all arrogance, yet of all condescension, so simple,open, cordial, and hero-like, that Marmaduke Nevile, peculiarly aliveto external impressions, and subdued and fascinated by the earl's firstword, and that word was "Welcome!" dropped on his knee, and kissing thehand extended to him, said, "Noble kinsman, in thy service and forthy sake let me live and die!" Had the young man been prepared by thesubtlest master of courtcraft for this interview, so important to hisfortunes, he could not have advanced a hundredth part so far with thegreat earl as he did by that sudden, frank burst of genuine emotion; forWarwick was extremely sensitive to the admiration he excited,--vain orproud of it, it matters not which; grateful as a child for love, andinexorable as a woman for slight or insult: in rude ages, one sex hasoften the qualities of the other.
"Thou hast thy father's warm heart and hasty thought, Marmaduke," saidWarwick, raising him; "and now he is gone where, we trust, brave men,shrived of their sins, look down upon us, who should be thy friend butRichard Nevile? So--so--yes, let me look at thee. Ha! stout Guy's honestface, every line of it: but to the girls, perhaps, comelier, for wantinga scar or two. Never blush,--thou shalt win the scars yet. So thou hasta letter from thy father?"
"It is here, noble lord."
"And why," said the earl, cutting the silk with his dagger--"why hastthou so long hung back from presenting it? But I need not ask thee.These uncivil times have made kith and kin doubt worse of each otherthan thy delay did of me. Sir Guy's mark, sure eno'! Brave old man! Iloved him the better for that, like me, the sword was more meet than thepen for his bold hand." Here Warwick scanned, with some slowness, thelines dictated by the dead to the priest; and when he had done, helaid the letter respectfully on his desk, and bowing his head over it,muttered to himself,--it might be an Ave for the deceased. "Well," hesaid, reseating himself, and again motioning Marmaduke to follow hisexample, "thy father was, in sooth, to blame for the side he took in theWars. What son of the Norman could bow knee or vail plume to that shadowof a king, Henry of Windsor? And for his bloody wife--she knew no moreof an Englishman's pith and pride than I know of the rhymes and roundelsof old Rene, her father. Guy Nevile--good Guy--many a day in my boyhooddid he teach me
how to bear my lance at the crest, and direct my swordat the mail joints. He was cunning at fence--thy worshipful father--butI was ever a bad scholar; and my dull arm, to this day, hopes more fromits strength than its craft."
"I have heard it said, noble earl, that the stoutest hand can scarcelylift your battle-axe."
"Fables! romaunt!" answered the earl, smiling; "there it lies,--go andlift it."
Marmaduke went to the table, and, though with some difficulty, raisedand swung this formidable weapon.
"By my halidame, well swung, cousin mine! Its use depends not on thestrength, but the practice. Why, look you now, there is the boy Richardof Gloucester, who comes not up to thy shoulder, and by dint of customeach day can wield mace or axe with as much ease as a jester doth hislathesword. Ah, trust me, Marmaduke, the York House is a princely one;and if we must have a king, we barons, by stout Saint George, let nomeaner race ever furnish our lieges. But to thyself, Marmaduke--what arethy views and thy wishes?"
"To be one of thy following, noble Warwick."
"I thank and accept thee, young Nevile; but thou hast heard that I amabout to leave England, and in the mean time thy youth would run dangerwithout a guide." The earl paused a moment, and resumed: "My brother ofMontagu showed thee cold countenance; but a word from me will winthee his grace and favour. What sayest thou, wilt thou be one of hisgentlemen? If so, I will tell thee the qualities a man must have,--adiscreet tongue, a quick eye, the last fashion in hood and shoe-bobbins,a perfect seat on thy horse, a light touch for the gittern, a voice fora love-song, and--"
"I have none of these save the horsemanship, gracious my lord; and ifthou wilt not receive me thyself, I will not burden my Lord of Montaguand Northumberland."
"Hot and quick! No! John of Montagu would not suit thee, nor thou him.But how to provide for thee till my return I know not."
"Dare I not hope, then, to make one of your embassage, noble earl?"
Warwick bent his brows, and looked at him in surprise. "Of ourembassage! Why, thou art haughty, indeed! Nay, and so a soldier's sonand a Nevile should be! I blame thee not; but I could not make theeone of my train, without creating a hundred enemies--to me (but that'snothing) and to thee, which were much. Knowest thou not that there isscarce a gentleman of my train below the state of a peer's son, and thatI have made, by refusals, malcontents eno', as it is?--Yet, bold! thereis my learned brother, the Archbishop of York. Knowest thou Latin andthe schools?"
"'Fore Heaven, my lord," said the Nevile, bluntly, "I see already I hadbest go back to green Westmoreland, for I am as unfit for his grace thearchbishop as I am for my Lord Montagu."
"Well, then," said the earl, dryly, "since thou hast not yet stationenough for my train, nor glosing for Northumberland, nor wit and lerefor the archbishop, I suppose, my poor youth, I must e'en make you onlya gentleman about the king! It is not a post so sure of quick rising andfull gipsires as one about myself or my brethren, but it will be lessenvied, and is good for thy first essay. How goes the clock? Oh, here isNick Alwyn's new horologe. He tells me that the English will soon rivalthe Dutch in these baubles. [Clockwork appears to have been introducedinto England in the reign of Edward III., when three Dutch horologerswere invited over from Delft. They must soon have passed into commonuse, for Chaucer thus familiarly speaks of them:--
"Full sickerer was his crowing in his loge Than is a clock or any abbey orloge."]
The more the pity!--our red-faced yeomen, alas, are fast sinking intolank-jawed mechanics! We shall find the king in his garden within thenext half-hour. Thou shalt attend me."
Marmaduke expressed, with more feeling than eloquence, the thanks heowed for an offer that, he was about to say, exceeded his hopes; but hehad already, since his departure from Westmoreland, acquired sufficientwit to think twice of his words. And so eagerly, at that time, did theyouth of the nobility contend for the honour of posts about the personof Warwick, and even of his brothers, and so strong was the belief thatthe earl's power to make or to mar fortune was all-paramount in England,that even a place in the king's household was considered an inferiorappointment to that which made Warwick the immediate patron andprotector. This was more especially the case amongst the more haughtyand ancient gentry since the favour shown by Edward to the relationsof his wife, and his own indifference to the rank and birth of hisassociates. Warwick had therefore spoken with truth when he expresseda comparative pity for the youth, whom he could not better provide forthan by a place about the court of his sovereign!
The earl then drew from Marmaduke some account of his early training,his dependence on his brother, his adventures at the archery-ground, hismisadventure with the robbers, and even his sojourn with Warner,--thoughMarmaduke was discreetly silent as to the very existence of Sibyll. Theearl, in the mean while, walked to and fro the chamber with a light,careless stride, every moment pausing to laugh at the frank simplicityof his kinsman, or to throw in some shrewd remark, which he castpurposely in the rough Westmoreland dialect; for no man ever attains tothe popularity that rejoiced or accursed the Earl of Warwick, without atendency to broad and familiar humour, without a certain commonplaceof character in its shallower and more every-day properties. Thischarm--always great in the great--Warwick possessed to perfection; andin him--such was his native and unaffected majesty of bearing, andsuch the splendour that surrounded his name--it never seemed coarse orunfamiliar, but "everything he did became him best." Marmaduke had justbrought his narrative to a conclusion, when, after a slight tap at thedoor, which Warwick did not hear, two fair young forms bounded joyouslyin, and not seeing the stranger, threw themselves upon Warwick's breastwith the caressing familiarity of infancy.
"Ah, Father," said the elder of these two girls, as Warwick's handsmoothed her hair fondly, "you promised you would take us in your bargeto see the sports on the river, and now it will be too late."
"Make your peace with your young cousins here," said the earl, turningto Marmaduke; "you will cost them an hour's joyaunce. This is my eldestdaughter, Isabel; and this soft-eyed, pale-cheeked damozel--too loyalfor a leaf of the red rose--is the Lady Anne."
The two girls had started from their father's arms at the first addressto Marmaduke, and their countenances had relapsed from their caressingand childlike expression into all the stately demureness with whichthey had been brought up to regard a stranger. Howbeit, this reserve, towhich he was accustomed, awed Marmaduke less than the alternate gayetyand sadness of the wilder Sibyll, and he addressed them with all thegallantry to the exercise of which he had been reared, concluding hiscompliments with a declaration that he would rather forego the advantageproffered him by the earl's favour with the king, than foster oneobnoxious and ungracious memory in damozels so fair and honoured.
A haughty smile flitted for a moment over the proud young face of IsabelNevile; but the softer Anne blushed, and drew bashfully behind hersister.
As yet these girls, born for the highest and fated to the most wretchedfortunes, were in all the bloom of earliest youth; but the differencebetween their characters might be already observable in their mienand countenance. Isabel; of tall and commanding stature, had someresemblance to her father, in her aquiline features, rich, dark hair,and the lustrous brilliancy of her eyes; while Anne, less striking, yetnot less lovely, of smaller size and slighter proportions, bore in herpale, clear face, her dove-like eyes, and her gentle brow an expressionof yielding meekness not unmixed with melancholy, which, conjoined withan exquisite symmetry of features, could not fail of exciting interestwhere her sister commanded admiration. Not a word, however, from eitherdid Marmaduke abstract in return for his courtesies, nor did eitherhe or the earl seem to expect it; for the latter, seating himself anddrawing Anne on his knee, while Isabella walked with stately gracetowards the table that bore her father's warlike accoutrements, andplayed, as it were, unconsciously with the black plume on his blackburgonet, said to Nevile,
"Well, thou hast seen enough of the Lancastrian raptrils to make theetrue to the Yorkists. I w
ould I could say as much for the king himself,who is already crowding the court with that venomous faction, in honourof Dame Elizabeth Gray, born Mistress Woodville, and now Queen ofEngland. Ha, my proud Isabel, thou wouldst have better filled the thronethat thy father built!"
And at these words a proud flash broke from the earl's dark eyes,betraying even to Marmaduke the secret of perhaps his earliestalienation from Edward IV. Isabella pouted her rich lip, but saidnothing. "As for thee, Anne," continued the earl, "it is a pity thatmonks cannot marry,--thou wouldst have suited some sober priest betterthan a mailed knight. 'Fore George, I would not ask thee to buckle mybaldrick when the war-steeds were snorting, but I would trust Isabelwith the links of my hauberk."
"Nay, Father," said the low, timid voice of Anne, "if thou wert going todanger, I could be brave in all that could guard thee!"
"Why, that's my girl! kiss me! Thou hast a look of thy mother now,--sothou hast! and I will not chide thee the next time I hear thee mutteringsoft treason in pity of Henry of Windsor."
"Is he not to be pitied?--Crown, wife, son, and Earl Warwick's stout armlost--lost!"
"No!" said Isabel, suddenly; "no, sweet sister Anne, and fie on thee forthe words! He lost all, because he had neither the hand of a knight northe heart of a man! For the rest--Margaret of Anjou, or her butchers,beheaded our father's father."
"And may God and Saint George forget me, when I forget those gray andgory hairs!" exclaimed the earl; and putting away the Lady Anne somewhatroughly, he made a stride across the room, and stood by his hearth. "Andyet Edward, the son of Richard of York, who fell by my father's side--heforgets, he forgives! And the minions of Rivers the Lancastrian treadthe heels of Richard of Warwick."
At this unexpected turn in the conversation, peculiarly unwelcome, asit may be supposed, to the son of one who had fought on the Lancastrianside in the very battle referred to, Marmaduke felt somewhat uneasy; andturning to the Lady Anne, he said, with the gravity of wounded pride, "Iowe more to my lord, your father, than I even wist of,--how much he musthave overlooked to--"
"Not so!" interrupted Warwick, who overheard him,--"not so; thouwrongest me! Thy father was shocked at those butcheries; thy fatherrecoiled from that accursed standard; thy father was of a stockancient and noble as my own! But, these Woodvilles!--tush! my passionovermasters me. We will go to the king,--it is time."
Warwick here rang the hand-bell on his table, and on the entrance of hisattendant gentleman, bade him see that the barge was in readiness; thenbeckoning to his kinsman, and with a nod to his daughters, he caught uphis plumed cap, and passed at once into the garden.
"Anne," said Isabel, when the two girls were alone, "thou hast vexed myfather, and what marvel? If the Lancastrians can be pitied, the Earl ofWarwick must be condemned!"
"Unkind!" said Anne, shedding tears; "I can pity woe and mischance,without blaming those whose hard duty it might be to achieve them."
"In good sooth cannot I! Thou wouldst pity and pardon till thou leftstno distinction between foeman and friend, leife and loathing. Be itmine, like my great father, to love and to hate!"
"Yet why art thou so attached to the White Rose?" said Anne, stung, ifnot to malice, at least to archness. "Thou knowest my father's nearestwish was that his eldest daughter might be betrothed to King Edward.Dost thou not pay good for evil when thou seest no excellence out of theHouse of York?"
"Saucy Anne," answered Isabel, with a half smile, "I am not raught bythy shafts, for I was a child for the nurses when King Edward sought awife for his love. But were I chafed--as I may be vain enough to knowmyself--whom should I blame?--Not the king, but the Lancastrian whowitched him!"
She paused a moment, and, looking away, added in a low tone, "Didstthou hear, sister Anne, if the Duke of Clarence visited my father theforenoon?"
"Ah, Isabel, Isabel!"
"Ah, sister Anne, sister Anne! Wilt thou know all my secrets ere I knowthem myself?"--and Isabel, with something of her father's playfulness,put her hands to Anne's laughing lips.
Meanwhile Warwick, after walking musingly a few moments along thegarden, which was formed by plots of sward, bordered with fruit-trees,and white rose-trees not yet in blossom, turned to his silent kinsman,and said, "Forgive me, cousin mine, my mannerless burst against thybrave father's faction; but when thou hast been a short while at court,thou wilt see where the sore is. Certes, I love this king!" Here hisdark face lighted up. "Love him as a king,--ay, and as a son! Andwho would not love him; brave as his sword, gallant, and winning, andgracious as the noonday in summer? Besides, I placed him on his throne;I honour myself in him!"
The earl's stature dilated as he spoke the last sentence, and hishand rested on his dagger hilt. He resumed, with the same daring andincautious candour that stamped his dauntless, soldier-like nature, "Godhath given me no son. Isabel of Warwick had been a mate for William theNorman; and my grandson, if heir to his grandsire's soul, should haveruled from the throne of England over the realms of Charlemagne! But ithath pleased Him whom the Christian knight alone bows to without shame,to order otherwise. So be it. I forgot my just pretensions,--forgotmy blood, and counselled the king to strengthen his throne with thealliance of Louis XI. He rejected the Princess Bona of Savoy, to marrywidow Elizabeth Gray; I sorrowed for his sake, and forgave the slight tomy counsels. At his prayer I followed the train of his queen, and hushedthe proud hearts of our barons to obeisance. But since then, this DameWoodville, whom I queened, if her husband mated, must dispute thisroiaulme with mine and me,--a Nevile, nowadays, must vail his plume to aWoodville! And not the great barons whom it will suit Edward's policyto win from the Lancastrians--not the Exeters and the Somersets--but thecraven varlets and lackeys and dross of the camp--false alike to Henryand to Edward--are to be fondled into lordships and dandled into power.Young man, I am speaking hotly--Richard Nevile never lies nor conceals;but I am speaking to a kinsman, am I not? Thou hearest,--thou wilt notrepeat?"
"Sooner would I pluck forth my tongue by the roots."
"Enough!" returned the earl, with a pleased smile. "When I come fromFrance, I will speak more to thee. Meanwhile be courteous to all men,servile to none. Now to the king."
So speaking, he shook back his surcoat, drew his cap over his brow,and passed to the broad stairs, at the foot of which fifty rowers, withtheir badges on their shoulders, waited in the huge barge, gilt richlyat prow and stern, and with an awning of silk, wrought with the earl'sarms and cognizance. As they pushed off, six musicians, placed towardsthe helm, began a slow and half Eastern march, which, doubtless, somecrusader of the Temple had brought from the cymbals and trumps ofPalestine.