CHAPTER III. VIRTUOUS RESOLVES SUBMITTED TO THE TEST OF VANITY AND THEWORLD.
On reaching his own house, Hastings learned that the court was stillat Shene. He waited but till the retinue which his rank required wereequipped and ready, and reached the court, from which of late he hadfound so many excuses to absent himself, before night. Edward was thenat the banquet, and Hastings was too experienced a courtier to disturbhim at such a time. In a mood unfit for companionship, he took his wayto the apartments usually reserved for him, when a gentleman met him bythe way, and apprised him, with great respect, that the Lord Scalesand Rivers had already appropriated those apartments to the principalwaiting-lady of his countess,--but that other chambers, if lesscommodious and spacious, were at his command.
Hastings had not the superb and more than regal pride of Warwick andMontagu; but this notice sensibly piqued and galled him.
"My apartments as Lord Chamberlain, as one of the captain-generals inthe king's army, given to the waiting-lady of Sir Anthony Woodville'swife! At whose orders, sir?"
"Her highness the queen's; pardon me, my lord," and the gentleman,looking round, and sinking his voice, continued, "pardon me, herhighness added, 'If my Lord Chamberlain returns not ere the week ends,he may find not only the apartment, but the office, no longer free.' Mylord, we all love you--forgive my zeal, and look well if you would guardyour own."
"Thanks, sir. Is my lord of Gloucester in the palace?"
"He is,--and in his chamber. He sits not long at the feast."
"Oblige me by craving his grace's permission to wait on him at leisure;I attend his answer here."
Leaning against the wall of the corridor, Hastings gave himself upto other thoughts than those of love. So strong is habit, so powerfulvanity or ambition, once indulged, that this puny slight made a suddenrevulsion in the mind of the royal favourite; once more the agitated andbrilliant court life stirred and fevered him,--that life, so wearisomewhen secure, became sweeter when imperilled. To counteract his foes, tohumble his rivals, to regain the king's countenance, to baffle, with theeasy art of his skilful intellect, every hostile stratagem,--such werethe ideas that crossed and hurtled themselves, and Sibyll was forgotten.
The gentleman reappeared. "Prince Richard besought my lord's presencewith loving welcome;" and to the duke's apartment went Lord Hastings.Richard, clad in a loose chamber robe, which concealed the defects ofhis shape, rose from before a table covered with papers, and embracedHastings with cordial affection.
"Never more gladly hail to thee, dear William. I need thy wise counselswith the king, and I have glad tidings for thine own ear."
"Pardieu, my prince; the king, methinks, will scarce heed the counselsof a dead man."
"Dead?"
"Ay. At court it seems men are dead,--their rooms filled, their placespromised or bestowed,--if they come not, morn and night, to convincethe king that they are alive." And Hastings, with constrained gayety,repeated the information he had received.
"What would you, Hastings?" said the duke, shrugging his shoulders,but with some latent meaning in his tone. "Lord Rivers were nought inhimself; but his lady is a mighty heiress, [Elizabeth secured to herbrother, Sir Anthony, the greatest heiress in the kingdom, in thedaughter of Lord Scales,--a wife, by the way, who is said to have beena mere child at the time of the marriage.] and requires state, as shebestows pomp. Look round, and tell me what man ever maintained himselfin power without the strong connections, the convenient dower, theacute, unseen, unsleeping woman-influence of some noble wife? How can apoor man defend his repute, his popular name, that airy but all puissantthing we call dignity or station, against the pricks and stings offemale intrigue and female gossip? But he marries, and, lo, a host offairy champions, who pinch the rival lozels unawares: his wife hathher army of courtpie and jupon, to array against the dames of his foes!Wherefore, my friend, while thou art unwedded, think not to cope withLord Rivers, who hath a wife with three sisters, two aunts, and a scoreof she-cousins!"
"And if," replied Hastings, more and more unquiet under the duke'struthful irony,--"if I were now to come to ask the king permission towed--"
"If thou wert, and the bride-elect were a lady with power and wealth andmanifold connections, and the practice of a court, thou wouldst be themightiest lord in the kingdom since Warwick's exile."
"And if she had but youth, beauty, and virtue?"
"Oh, then, my Lord Hastings, pray thy patron saint for a war,--for inpeace thou wouldst be lost amongst the crowd. But truce to these jests;for thou art not the man to prate of youth, virtue, and such like, insober earnest, amidst this work-day world, where nothing is young andnothing virtuous;--and listen to grave matters."
The duke then communicated to Hastings the last tidings received of themachinations of Warwick. He was in high spirits; for those last tidingsbut reported Margaret's refusal to entertain the proposition of anuptial alliance with the earl, though, on the other hand, the Duke ofBurgundy, who was in constant correspondence with his spies, wrote wordthat Warwick was collecting provisions, from his own means, for morethan sixty thousand men; and that, with Lancaster or without, the earlwas prepared to match his own family interest against the armies ofEdward.
"And," said Hastings, "if all his family joined with him, what foreignking could be so formidable an invader? Maltravers and the Mowbrays,Fauconberg, Westmoreland, Fitzhugh, Stanley, Bonville, Worcester--"
"But happily," said Gloucester, "the Mowbrays have been allied also tothe queen's sister; Worcester detests Warwick; Stanley always murmursagainst us, a sure sign that he will fight for us; and Bonville--I havein view a trusty Yorkist to whom the retainers of that House shall beassigned. But of that anon. What I now wish from thy wisdom is, to aidme in rousing Edward from his lethargy; he laughs at his danger, andneither communicates with his captains nor mans his coasts. His couragemakes him a dullard."
After some further talk on these heads, and more detailed account of thepreparations which Gloucester deemed necessary to urge on the king, theduke, then moving his chair nearer to Hastings, said with a smile,--
"And now, Hastings, to thyself: it seems that thou hast not heard thenews which reached us four days since. The Lord Bonville is dead,--diedthree months ago at his manor house in Devon. [To those who have readthe "Paston Letters" it will not seem strange that in that day the deathof a nobleman at his country seat should be so long in reaching themetropolis,--the ordinary purveyors of communication were the itinerantattendants of fairs; and a father might be ignorant for months togetherof the death of his son.] Thy Katherine is free, and in London. Well,man, where is thy joy?"
"Time is, time was!" said Hastings, gloomily. "The day has passed whenthis news could rejoice me."
"Passed! nay, thy good stars themselves have fought for thee in delay.Seven goodly manors swell the fair widow's jointure; the noble dowry shebrought returns to her. Her very daughter will bring thee power. YoungCecily Bonville [afterwards married to Dorset], the heiress, Lord Dorsetdemands in betrothal. Thy wife will be mother-in-law to thy queen's son;on the other hand, she is already aunt to the Duchess of Clarence;and George, be sure, sooner or later, will desert Warwick, and win hispardon. Powerful connections, vast possessions, a lady of immaculatename and surpassing beauty, and thy first love!--(thy handtrembles!)--thy first love, thy sole love, and thy last!"
"Prince--Prince! forbear! Even if so--In brief, Katherine loves me not!"
"Thou mistakest! I have seen her, and she loves thee not the lessbecause her virtue so long concealed the love." Hastings uttered anexclamation of passionate joy, but again his face darkened.
Gloucester watched him in silence; besides any motive suggested by theaffection he then sincerely bore to Hastings, policy might well interestthe duke in the securing to so loyal a Yorkist the hand and the wealthof Lord Warwick's sister; but, prudently not pressing the subjectfurther, he said, in an altered and careless voice, "Pardon me if Ihave presumed on matters on which each man judges for himself. But as,despite a
ll obstacle, one day or other Anne Nevile shall be mine, itwould have delighted me to know a near connection in Lord Hastings. Andnow the hour grows late, I prithee let Edward find thee in his chamber."
When Hastings attended the king, he at once perceived that Edward'smanner was changed to him. At first, he attributed the cause to the illoffices of the queen and her brother; but the king soon betrayed thetrue source of his altered humour.
"My lord," he said abruptly, "I am no saint, as thou knowest; but thereare some ties, par amour, which, in my mind, become not knights andnobles about a king's person."
"My liege, I arede you not."
"Tush, William!" replied the king, more gently, "thou hast more thanonce wearied me with application for the pardon of the nigromancerWarner,--the whole court is scandalized at thy love for his daughter.Thou hast absented thyself from thine office on poor pretexts! I knowthee too well not to be aware that love alone can make thee neglect thyking,--thy time has been spent at the knees or in the arms of this youngsorceress! One word for all times,--he whom a witch snares cannot be aking's true servant! I ask of thee as a right, or as a grace, see thisfair ribaude no more! What, man, are there not ladies enough in merryEngland, that thou shouldst undo thyself for so unchristian a fere?"
"My king! how can this poor maid have angered thee thus?"
"Knowest thou not"--began the king, sharply, and changing colour as heeyed his favourite's mournful astonishment,--"ah, well!" he muttered tohimself, "they have been discreet hitherto, but how long will they beso? I am in time yet. It is enough,"--he added, aloud and gravely--"itis enough that our learned [it will be remembered that Edward himselfwas a man of no learning] Bungey holds her father as a most pestilentwizard, whose spells are muttered for Lancaster and the rebel Warwick;that the girl hath her father's unholy gifts, and I lay my command onthee, as liege king, and I pray thee, as loving friend, to see no moreeither child or sire! Let this suffice--and now I will hear thee onstate matters."
Whatever Hastings might feel, he saw that it was no time to ventureremonstrance with the king, and strove to collect his thoughts, andspeak indifferently on the high interests to which Edward invited him;but he was so distracted and absent that he made but a sorry counsellor,and the king, taking pity on him, dismissed his chamberlain for thenight.
Sleep came not to the couch of Hastings; his acuteness perceivedthat whatever Edward's superstition, and he was a devout believer inwitchcraft, some more worldly motive actuated him in his resentmentto poor Sibyll. But as we need scarcely say that neither from theabstracted Warner nor his innocent daughter had Hastings learned thetrue cause, he wearied himself with vain conjectures, and knew not thatEdward involuntarily did homage to the superior chivalry of his gallantfavourite, when he dreaded that, above all men, Hastings should be madeaware of the guilty secret which the philosopher and his child couldtell. If Hastings gave his name and rank to Sibyll, how powerful aweight would the tale of a witness now so obscure suddenly acquire!
Turning from the image of Sibyll, thus beset with thoughts of danger,embarrassment, humiliation, disgrace, ruin, Lord Hastings recalled thewords of Gloucester; and the stately image of Katherine, surrounded withevery memory of early passion, every attribute of present ambition, rosebefore him; and he slept at last, to dream not of Sibyll and the humbleorchard, but of Katherine in her maiden bloom, of the trysting-tree bythe halls of Middleham, of the broken ring, of the rapture and the woeof his youth's first high-placed love.