CHAPTER XXV.
Yet this inconstancy is such, As thou, too, shalt adore; I could not love thee, love so much, Loved I not honour more. MONTROSE'S LINES.
When King Richard returned to his tent, he commanded the Nubian to bebrought before him. He entered with his usual ceremonial reverence,and having prostrated himself, remained standing before the King in theattitude of a slave awaiting the orders of his master. It was perhapswell for him that the preservation of his character required his eyesto be fixed on the ground, since the keen glance with which Richard forsome time surveyed him in silence would, if fully encountered, have beendifficult to sustain.
"Thou canst well of woodcraft," said the King, after a pause, "and haststarted thy game and brought him to bay as ably as if Tristrem himselfhad taught thee. [A universal tradition ascribed to Sir Tristrem, famousfor his love of the fair Queen Yseult, the laws concerning the practiceof woodcraft, or VENERIE, as it was called, being those that related tothe rules of the chase, which were deemed of much consequence during theMiddle Ages.] But this is not all--he must be brought down at force. Imyself would have liked to have levelled my hunting-spear at him. Thereare, it seems, respects which prevent this. Thou art about to return tothe camp of the Soldan, bearing a letter, requiring of his courtesy toappoint neutral ground for the deed of chivalry, and should it consistwith his pleasure, to concur with us in witnessing it. Now, speakingconjecturally, we think thou mightst find in that camp some cavalierwho, for the love of truth and his own augmentation of honour, will dobattle with this same traitor of Montserrat."
The Nubian raised his eyes and fixed them on the King with a look ofeager ardour; then raised them to Heaven with such solemn gratitude thatthe water soon glistened in them; then bent his head, as affirming whatRichard desired, and resumed his usual posture of submissive attention.
"It is well," said the King; "and I see thy desire to oblige me in thismatter. And herein, I must needs say, lies the excellence of such aservant as thou, who hast not speech either to debate our purpose or torequire explanation of what we have determined. An English serving manin thy place had given me his dogged advice to trust the combatwith some good lance of my household, who, from my brother Longsworddownwards, are all on fire to do battle in my cause; and a chatteringFrenchman had made a thousand attempts to discover wherefore I look fora champion from the camp of the infidels. But thou, my silent agent,canst do mine errand without questioning or comprehending it; with theeto hear is to obey."
A bend of the body and a genuflection were the appropriate answer of theEthiopian to these observations.
"And now to another point," said the King, and speaking suddenly andrapidly--"have you yet seen Edith Plantagenet?"
The mute looked up as in the act of being about to speak--nay, his lipshad begun to utter a distinct negative--when the abortive attempt diedaway in the imperfect murmurs of the dumb.
"Why, lo you there!" said the King, "the very sound of the name of aroyal maiden of beauty so surpassing as that of our lovely cousin seemsto have power enough well-nigh to make the dumb speak. What miraclesthen might her eye work upon such a subject! I will make the experiment,friend slave. Thou shalt see this choice beauty of our Court, and do theerrand of the princely Soldan."
Again a joyful glance--again a genuflection--but, as he arose, the Kinglaid his hand heavily on his shoulder, and proceeded with stern gravitythus: "Let me in one thing warn you, my sable envoy. Even if thoushouldst feel that the kindly influence of her whom thou art soon tobehold should loosen the bonds of thy tongue, presently imprisoned,as the good Soldan expresses it, within the ivory walls of its castle,beware how thou changest thy taciturn character, or speakest a word inher presence, even if thy powers of utterance were to be miraculouslyrestored. Believe me that I should have thy tongue extracted bythe roots, and its ivory palace--that is, I presume, its range ofteeth--drawn out one by one. Wherefore, be wise and silent still."
The Nubian, so soon as the King had removed his heavy grasp from hisshoulder, bent his head, and laid his hand on his lips, in token ofsilent obedience.
But Richard again laid his hand on him more gently, and added, "Thisbehest we lay on thee as on a slave. Wert thou knight and gentleman,we would require thine honour in pledge of thy silence, which is oneespecial condition of our present trust."
The Ethiopian raised his body proudly, looked full at the King, and laidhis right hand on his heart.
Richard then summoned his chamberlain.
"Go, Neville," he said, "with this slave to the tent of our royalconsort, and say it is our pleasure that he have an audience--a privateaudience--of our cousin Edith. He is charged with a commission to her.Thou canst show him the way also, in case he requires thy guidance,though thou mayst have observed it is wonderful how familiar he alreadyseems to be with the purlieus of our camp.--And thou, too, friendEthiop," the King continued, "what thou dost do quickly, and returnhither within the half-hour."
"I stand discovered," thought the seeming Nubian, as, with downcastlooks and folded arms, he followed the hasty stride of Neville towardsthe tent of Queen Berengaria--"I stand undoubtedly discovered andunfolded to King Richard; yet I cannot perceive that his resentment ishot against me. If I understand his words--and surely it is impossibleto misinterpret them--he gives me a noble chance of redeeming my honourupon the crest of this false Marquis, whose guilt I read in his craveneye and quivering lip when the charge was made against him.--Roswal,faithfully hast thou served thy master, and most dearly shall thy wrongbe avenged!--But what is the meaning of my present permission to lookupon her whom I had despaired ever to see again? And why, or how, canthe royal Plantagenet consent that I should see his divine kinswoman,either as the messenger of the heathen Saladin, or as the guilty exilewhom he so lately expelled from his camp--his audacious avowal of theaffection which is his pride being the greatest enhancement of hisguilt? That Richard should consent to her receiving a letter from aninfidel lover by the hands of one of such disproportioned rank areeither of them circumstances equally incredible, and, at the same time,inconsistent with each other. But Richard, when unmoved by his headypassions, is liberal, generous, and truly noble; and as such I willdeal with him, and act according to his instructions, direct or implied,seeking to know no more than may gradually unfold itself without myofficious inquiry. To him who has given me so brave an opportunity tovindicate my tarnished honour, I owe acquiescence and obedience; andpainful as it may be, the debt shall be paid. And yet"--thus the proudswelling of his heart further suggested--"Coeur de Lion, as he iscalled, might have measured the feelings of others by his own. I urge anaddress to his kinswoman! I, who never spoke word to her when I took aroyal prize from her hand--when I was accounted not the lowest in featsof chivalry among the defenders of the Cross! I approach her when ina base disguise, and in a servile habit--and, alas! when my actualcondition is that of a slave, with a spot of dishonour on that which wasonce my shield! I do this! He little knows me. Yet I thank him for theopportunity which may make us all better acquainted with each other."
As he arrived at this conclusion, they paused before the entrance of theQueen's pavilion.
They were of course admitted by the guards, and Neville, leaving theNubian in a small apartment, or antechamber, which was but too wellremembered by him, passed into that which was used as the Queen'spresence-chamber. He communicated his royal master's pleasure in alow and respectful tone of voice, very different from the bluntnessof Thomas de Vaux, to whom Richard was everything and the rest of theCourt, including Berengaria herself, was nothing. A burst of laughterfollowed the communication of his errand.
"And what like is the Nubian slave who comes ambassador on such anerrand from the Soldan?--a negro, De Neville, is he not?" said a femalevoice, easily recognized for that of Berengaria. "A negro, is he not, DeNeville, with black skin, a head curled like a ram's, a flat nose, andblubber lips--ha, worthy Sir Henry?"
"Let not your Grace forget the shin-bones," sa
id another voice, "bentoutwards like the edge of a Saracen scimitar."
"Rather like the bow of a Cupid, since he comes upon a lover's errand,"said the Queen.--"Gentle Neville, thou art ever prompt to pleasure uspoor women, who have so little to pass away our idle moments. We mustsee this messenger of love. Turks and Moors have I seen many, but negronever."
"I am created to obey your Grace's commands, so you will bear me outwith my Sovereign for doing so," answered the debonair knight. "Yet,let me assure your Grace you will see something different from what youexpect."
"So much the better--uglier yet than our imaginations can fancy, yet thechosen love-messenger of this gallant Soldan!"
"Gracious madam," said the Lady Calista, "may I implore you would permitthe good knight to carry this messenger straight to the Lady Edith, towhom his credentials are addressed? We have already escaped hardly forsuch a frolic."
"Escaped?" repeated the Queen scornfully. "Yet thou mayest be right,Calista, in thy caution. Let this Nubian, as thou callest him, first dohis errand to our cousin--besides, he is mute too, is he not?"
"He is, gracious madam," answered the knight.
"Royal sport have these Eastern ladies," said Berengaria, "attended bythose before whom they may say anything, yet who can report nothing.Whereas in our camp, as the Prelate of Saint Jude's is wont to say, abird of the air will carry the matter."
"Because," said De Neville, "your Grace forgets that you speak withincanvas walls."
The voices sunk on this observation, and after a little whispering, theEnglish knight again returned to the Ethiopian, and made him a signto follow. He did so, and Neville conducted him to a pavilion, pitchedsomewhat apart from that of the Queen, for the accommodation, it seemed,of the Lady Edith and her attendants. One of her Coptic maidens receivedthe message communicated by Sir Henry Neville, and in the space of avery few minutes the Nubian was ushered into Edith's presence, whileNeville was left on the outside of the tent. The slave who introducedhim withdrew on a signal from her mistress, and it was with humiliation,not of the posture only but of the very inmost soul, that theunfortunate knight, thus strangely disguised, threw himself on oneknee, with looks bent on the ground and arms folded on his bosom, like acriminal who expects his doom. Edith was clad in the same manner aswhen she received King Richard, her long, transparent dark veil hangingaround her like the shade of a summer night on a beautiful landscape,disguising and rendering obscure the beauties which it could not hide.She held in her hand a silver lamp, fed with some aromatic spirit, whichburned with unusual brightness.
When Edith came within a step of the kneeling and motionless slave,she held the light towards his face, as if to peruse his features moreattentively, then turned from him, and placed her lamp so as to throwthe shadow of his face in profile upon the curtain which hung beside.She at length spoke in a voice composed, yet deeply sorrowful,
"Is it you? It is indeed you, brave Knight of the Leopard--gallant SirKenneth of Scotland; is it indeed you?--thus servilely disguised--thussurrounded by a hundred dangers."
At hearing the tones of his lady's voice thus unexpectedly addressedto him, and in a tone of compassion approaching to tenderness, acorresponding reply rushed to the knight's lips, and scarce couldRichard's commands and his own promised silence prevent his answeringthat the sight he saw, the sounds he just heard, were sufficient torecompense the slavery of a life, and dangers which threatened thatlife every hour. He did recollect himself, however, and a deep andimpassioned sigh was his only reply to the high-born Edith's question.
"I see--I know I have guessed right," continued Edith. "I marked youfrom your first appearance near the platform on which I stood with theQueen. I knew, too, your valiant hound. She is no true lady, andis unworthy of the service of such a knight as thou art, from whomdisguises of dress or hue could conceal a faithful servant. Speak, then,without fear to Edith Plantagenet. She knows how to grace in adversitythe good knight who served, honoured, and did deeds of arms in her name,when fortune befriended him.--Still silent! Is it fear or shame thatkeeps thee so! Fear should be unknown to thee; and for shame, let itremain with those who have wronged thee."
The knight, in despair at being obliged to play the mute in an interviewso interesting, could only express his mortification by sighing deeply,and laying his finger upon his lips. Edith stepped back, as if somewhatdispleased.
"What!" she said, "the Asiatic mute in very deed, as well as in attire?This I looked not for. Or thou mayest scorn me, perhaps, for thus boldlyacknowledging that I have heedfully observed the homage thou hast paidme? Hold no unworthy thoughts of Edith on that account. She knows wellthe bounds which reserve and modesty prescribe to high-born maidens,and she knows when and how far they should give place to gratitude--toa sincere desire that it were in her power to repay services and repairinjuries arising from the devotion which a good knight bore towards her.Why fold thy hands together, and wring them with so much passion? Canit be," she added, shrinking back at the idea, "that their crueltyhas actually deprived thee of speech? Thou shakest thy head. Be it aspell--be it obstinacy, I question thee no further, but leave thee to dothine errand after thine own fashion. I also can be mute."
The disguised knight made an action as if at once lamenting his owncondition and deprecating her displeasure, while at the same time hepresented to her, wrapped, as usual, in fine silk and cloth of gold, theletter of the Soldan. She took it, surveyed it carelessly, then laid itaside, and bending her eyes once more on the knight, she said in a lowtone, "Not even a word to do thine errand to me?"
He pressed both his hands to his brow, as if to intimate the pain whichhe felt at being unable to obey her; but she turned from him in anger.
"Begone!" she said. "I have spoken enough--too much--to one who will notwaste on me a word in reply. Begone!--and say, if I have wronged thee, Ihave done penance; for if I have been the unhappy means of dragging theedown from a station of honour, I have, in this interview, forgotten myown worth, and lowered myself in thy eyes and in my own."
She covered her eyes with her hands, and seemed deeply agitated. SirKenneth would have approached, but she waved him back.
"Stand off! thou whose soul Heaven hath suited to its new station!Aught less dull and fearful than a slavish mute had spoken a word ofgratitude, were it but to reconcile me to my own degradation. Why pauseyou?--begone!"
The disguised knight almost involuntarily looked towards the letter asan apology for protracting his stay. She snatched it up, saying in atone of irony and contempt, "I had forgotten--the dutiful slave waits ananswer to his message. How's this--from the Soldan!"
She hastily ran over the contents, which were expressed both in Arabicand French, and when she had done, she laughed in bitter anger.
"Now this passes imagination!" she said; "no jongleur can show so defta transmutation! His legerdemain can transform zechins and byzants intodoits and maravedis; but can his art convert a Christian knight, everesteemed among the bravest of the Holy Crusade, into the dust-kissingslave of a heathen Soldan--the bearer of a paynim's insolent proposalsto a Christian maiden--nay, forgetting the laws of honourable chivalry,as well as of religion? But it avails not talking to the willing slaveof a heathen hound. Tell your master, when his scourge shall have foundthee a tongue, that which thou hast seen me do"--so saying, she threwthe Soldan's letter on the ground, and placed her foot upon it--"andsay to him, that Edith Plantagenet scorns the homage of an unchristenedpagan."
With these words she was about to shoot from the knight, when, kneelingat her feet in bitter agony, he ventured to lay his hand upon her robeand oppose her departure.
"Heard'st thou not what I said, dull slave?" she said, turning shortround on him, and speaking with emphasis. "Tell the heathen Soldan, thymaster, that I scorn his suit as much as I despise the prostration of aworthless renegade to religion and chivalry--to God and to his lady!"
So saying, she burst from him, tore her garment from his grasp, and leftthe tent.
The voice of Ne
ville, at the same time, summoned him from without.Exhausted and stupefied by the distress he had undergone during thisinterview, from which he could only have extricated himself by breachof the engagement which he had formed with King Richard, the unfortunateknight staggered rather than walked after the English baron, till theyreached the royal pavilion, before which a party of horsemen had justdismounted. There were light and motion within the tent, and whenNeville entered with his disguised attendant, they found the King,with several of his nobility, engaged in welcoming those who were newlyarrived.