CHAPTER XXVI.
"The tears I shed must ever fall. I weep not for an absent swain; For time may happier hours recall, And parted lovers meet again.
"I weep not for the silent dead. Their pains are past, their sorrows o'er; And those that loved their steps must tread, When death shall join to part no more."
But worse than absence, worse than death, She wept her lover's sullied fame, And, fired with all the pride of birth, She wept a soldier's injured name. BALLAD.
The frank and bold voice of Richard was heard in joyous gratulation.
"Thomas de Vaux! stout Tom of the Gills! by the head of King Henry, thouart welcome to me as ever was flask of wine to a jolly toper! I shouldscarce have known how to order my battle-array, unless I had thy bulkyform in mine eye as a landmark to form my ranks upon. We shall haveblows anon, Thomas, if the saints be gracious to us; and had we foughtin thine absence, I would have looked to hear of thy being found hangingupon an elder-tree."
"I should have borne my disappointment with more Christian patience,I trust," said Thomas de Vaux, "than to have died the death of anapostate. But I thank your Grace for my welcome, which is the moregenerous, as it respects a banquet of blows, of which, saving yourpleasure, you are ever too apt to engross the larger share. But herehave I brought one to whom your Grace will, I know, give a yet warmerwelcome."
The person who now stepped forward to make obeisance to Richard was ayoung man of low stature and slight form. His dress was as modest as hisfigure was unimpressive; but he bore on his bonnet a gold buckle, with agem, the lustre of which could only be rivalled by the brilliancy ofthe eye which the bonnet shaded. It was the only striking feature in hiscountenance; but when once noticed, it ever made a strong impression onthe spectator. About his neck there hung in a scarf of sky-blue silk aWREST as it was called--that is, the key with which a harp is tuned, andwhich was of solid gold.
This personage would have kneeled reverently to Richard, but the Monarchraised him in joyful haste, pressed him to his bosom warmly, and kissedhim on either side of the face.
"Blondel de Nesle!" he exclaimed joyfully--"welcome from Cyprus, my kingof minstrels!--welcome to the King of England, who rates not his owndignity more highly than he does thine. I have been sick, man, and, bymy soul, I believe it was for lack of thee; for, were I half way to thegate of heaven, methinks thy strains could call me back. And what news,my gentle master, from the land of the lyre? Anything fresh from theTROUVEURS of Provence? Anything from the minstrels of merry Normandy?Above all, hast thou thyself been busy? But I need not ask thee--thoucanst not be idle if thou wouldst; thy noble qualities are like a fireburning within, and compel thee to pour thyself out in music and song."
"Something I have learned, and something I have done, noble King,"answered the celebrated Blondel, with a retiring modesty which allRichard's enthusiastic admiration of his skill had been unable tobanish.
"We will hear thee, man--we will hear thee instantly," said the King.Then, touching Blondel's shoulder kindly, he added, "That is, if thouart not fatigued with thy journey; for I would sooner ride my best horseto death than injure a note of thy voice."
"My voice is, as ever, at the service of my royal patron," said Blondel;"but your Majesty," he added, looking at some papers on the table,"seems more importantly engaged, and the hour waxes late."
"Not a whit, man, not a whit, my dearest Blondel. I did but sketch anarray of battle against the Saracens, a thing of a moment, almost assoon done as the routing of them."
"Methinks, however," said Thomas de Vaux, "it were not unfit to inquirewhat soldiers your Grace hath to array. I bring reports on that subjectfrom Ascalon."
"Thou art a mule, Thomas," said the King--"a very mule for dullnessand obstinacy! Come, nobles--a hall--a hall--range ye around him! GiveBlondel the tabouret. Where is his harp-bearer?--or, soft, lend him myharp, his own may be damaged by the journey."
"I would your Grace would take my report," said Thomas de Vaux. "I haveridden far, and have more list to my bed than to have my ears tickled."
"THY ears tickled!" said the King; "that must be with a woodcock'sfeather, and not with sweet sounds. Hark thee, Thomas, do thine earsknow the singing of Blondel from the braying of an ass?"
"In faith, my liege," replied Thomas, "I cannot well say; but settingBlondel out of the question, who is a born gentleman, and doubtless ofhigh acquirements, I shall never, for the sake of your Grace's question,look on a minstrel but I shall think upon an ass."
"And might not your manners," said Richard, "have excepted me, who am agentleman born as well as Blondel, and, like him, a guild-brother of thejoyeuse science?"
"Your Grace should remember," said De Vaux, smiling, "that 'tis uselessasking for manners from a mule."
"Most truly spoken," said the King; "and an ill-conditioned animal thouart. But come hither, master mule, and be unloaded, that thou mayest getthee to thy litter, without any music being wasted on thee. Meantime dothou, good brother of Salisbury, go to our consort's tent, and tellher that Blondel has arrived, with his budget fraught with the newestminstrelsy. Bid her come hither instantly, and do thou escort her, andsee that our cousin, Edith Plantagenet, remain not behind."
His eye then rested for a moment on the Nubian, with that expression ofdoubtful meaning which his countenance usually displayed when he lookedat him.
"Ha, our silent and secret messenger returned?--Stand up, slave, behindthe back of De Neville, and thou shalt hear presently sounds which willmake thee bless God that He afflicted thee rather with dumbness thandeafness."
So saying, he turned from the rest of the company towards De Vaux, andplunged instantly into the military details which that baron laid beforehim.
About the time that the Lord of Gilsland had finished his audience, amessenger announced that the Queen and her attendants were approachingthe royal tent.--"A flask of wine, ho!" said the King; "of old KingIsaac's long-saved Cyprus, which we won when we stormed Famagosta. Fillto the stout Lord of Gilsland, gentles--a more careful and faithfulservant never had any prince."
"I am glad," said Thomas de Vaux, "that your Grace finds the mule auseful slave, though his voice be less musical than horse-hair or wire."
"What, thou canst not yet digest that quip of the mule?" said Richard."Wash it down with a brimming flagon, man, or thou wilt choke upon it.Why, so--well pulled!--and now I will tell thee, thou art a soldieras well as I, and we must brook each other's jests in the hall as eachother's blows in the tourney, and love each other the harder we hit.By my faith, if thou didst not hit me as hard as I did thee in our lateencounter! thou gavest all thy wit to the thrust. But here lies thedifference betwixt thee and Blondel. Thou art but my comrade--I mightsay my pupil--in the art of war; Blondel is my master in the science ofminstrelsy and music. To thee I permit the freedom of intimacy; to himI must do reverence, as to my superior in his art. Come, man, be notpeevish, but remain and hear our glee."
"To see your Majesty in such cheerful mood," said the Lord of Gilsland,"by my faith, I could remain till Blondel had achieved the great romanceof King Arthur, which lasts for three days."
"We will not tax your patience so deeply," said the King. "But see,yonder glare of torches without shows that our consort approaches. Awayto receive her, man, and win thyself grace in the brightest eyes ofChristendom. Nay, never stop to adjust thy cloak. See, thou hast letNeville come between the wind and the sails of thy galley."
"He was never before me in the field of battle," said De Vaux, notgreatly pleased to see himself anticipated by the more active service ofthe chamberlain.
"No, neither he nor any one went before thee there, my good Tom of theGills," said the King, "unless it was ourself, now and then."
"Ay, my liege," said De Vaux, "and let us do justice to the unfortunate.The unhappy Knight of the Leopard hath been before me too, at a season;for, look you, he weighs less on horseback, and so--"
"Hush!" said the Kin
g, interrupting him in a peremptory tone, "not aword of him," and instantly stepped forward to greet his royal consort;and when he had done so, he presented to her Blondel, as king ofminstrelsy and his master in the gay science. Berengaria, who well knewthat her royal husband's passion for poetry and music almost equalledhis appetite for warlike fame, and that Blondel was his especialfavourite, took anxious care to receive him with all the flatteringdistinctions due to one whom the King delighted to honour. Yet it wasevident that, though Blondel made suitable returns to the complimentsshowered on him something too abundantly by the royal beauty, he ownedwith deeper reverence and more humble gratitude the simple and gracefulwelcome of Edith, whose kindly greeting appeared to him, perhaps,sincere in proportion to its brevity and simplicity.
Both the Queen and her royal husband were aware of this distinction, andRichard, seeing his consort somewhat piqued at the preference assignedto his cousin, by which perhaps he himself did not feel much gratified,said in the hearing of both, "We minstrels, Berengaria, as thou mayestsee by the bearing of our master Blondel, pay more reverence to a severejudge like our kinswoman than to a kindly, partial friend like thyself,who is willing to take our worth upon trust."
Edith was moved by this sarcasm of her royal kinsman, and hesitatednot to reply that, "To be a harsh and severe judge was not an attributeproper to her alone of all the Plantagenets."
She had perhaps said more, having some touch of the temper of thathouse, which, deriving their name and cognizance from the lowly broom(PLANTA GENISTA), assumed as an emblem of humility, were perhaps oneof the proudest families that ever ruled in England; but her eye, whenkindling in her reply, suddenly caught those of the Nubian, although heendeavoured to conceal himself behind the nobles who were present,and she sunk upon a seat, turning so pale that Queen Berengaria deemedherself obliged to call for water and essences, and to go through theother ceremonies appropriate to a lady's swoon. Richard, who betterestimated Edith's strength of mind, called to Blondel to assume his seatand commence his lay, declaring that minstrelsy was worth every otherrecipe to recall a Plantagenet to life. "Sing us," he said, "that songof the Bloody Vest, of which thou didst formerly give me the argumentere I left Cyprus. Thou must be perfect in it by this time, or, as ouryeomen say, thy bow is broken."
The anxious eye of the minstrel, however, dwelt on Edith, and it wasnot till he observed her returning colour that he obeyed the repeatedcommands of the King. Then, accompanying his voice with the harp, so asto grace, but yet not drown, the sense of what he sung, he chanted ina sort of recitative one of those ancient adventures of love andknighthood which were wont of yore to win the public attention. So soonas he began to prelude, the insignificance of his personal appearanceseemed to disappear, and his countenance glowed with energy andinspiration. His full, manly, mellow voice, so absolutely under commandof the purest taste, thrilled on every ear and to every heart. Richard,rejoiced as after victory, called out the appropriate summons forsilence, "Listen, lords, in bower and hall"; while, with the zeal of apatron at once and a pupil, he arranged the circle around, and hushedthem into silence; and he himself sat down with an air of expectationand interest, not altogether unmixed with the gravity of the professedcritic. The courtiers turned their eyes on the King, that they might beready to trace and imitate the emotions his features should express, andThomas de Vaux yawned tremendously, as one who submitted unwillinglyto a wearisome penance. The song of Blondel was of course in the Normanlanguage, but the verses which follow express its meaning and itsmanner.
THE BLOODY VEST.
'Twas near the fair city of Benevent, When the sun was setting on bough and bent, And knights were preparing in bower and tent, On the eve of the Baptist's tournament; When in Lincoln green a stripling gent, Well seeming a page by a princess sent, Wander'd the camp, and, still as he went, Inquired for the Englishman, Thomas a Kent.
Far hath he far'd, and farther must fare, Till he finds his pavilion nor stately nor rare,-- Little save iron and steel was there; And, as lacking the coin to pay armourer's care, With his sinewy arms to the shoulders bare, The good knight with hammer and file did repair The mail that to-morrow must see him wear, For the honour of Saint John and his lady fair.
"Thus speaks my lady," the page said he, And the knight bent lowly both head and knee, "She is Benevent's Princess so high in degree, And thou art as lowly as knight may well be-- He that would climb so lofty a tree, Or spring such a gulf as divides her from thee, Must dare some high deed, by which all men may see His ambition is back'd by his hie chivalrie.
"Therefore thus speaks my lady," the fair page he said, And the knight lowly louted with hand and with head, "Fling aside the good armour in which thou art clad, And don thou this weed of her night-gear instead, For a hauberk of steel, a kirtle of thread; And charge, thus attir'd, in the tournament dread, And fight as thy wont is where most blood is shed, And bring honour away, or remain with the dead."
Untroubled in his look, and untroubled in his breast, The knight theweed hath taken, and reverently hath kiss'd. "Now blessed be the moment,the messenger be blest! Much honour'd do I hold me in my lady's highbehest; And say unto my lady, in this dear night-weed dress'd, To thebest armed champion I will not veil my crest; But if I live and bear mewell 'tis her turn to take the test." Here, gentles, ends the foremostfytte of the Lay of the Bloody Vest.
"Thou hast changed the measure upon us unawares in that last couplet, myBlondel," said the King.
"Most true, my lord," said Blondel. "I rendered the verses from theItalian of an old harper whom I met in Cyprus, and not having had timeeither to translate it accurately or commit it to memory, I am fain tosupply gaps in the music and the verse as I can upon the spur of themoment, as you see boors mend a quickset fence with a fagot."
"Nay, on my faith," said the King, "I like these rattling, rollingAlexandrines. Methinks they come more twangingly off to the music thanthat briefer measure."
"Both are licensed, as is well known to your Grace," answered Blondel.
"They are so, Blondel," said Richard, "yet methinks the scene wherethere is like to be fighting will go best on in these same thunderingAlexandrines, which sound like the charge of cavalry, while the othermeasure is but like the sidelong amble of a lady's palfrey."
"It shall be as your Grace pleases," replied Blondel, and began again toprelude.
"Nay, first cherish thy fancy with a cup of fiery Chios wine," saidthe King. "And hark thee, I would have thee fling away that new-fangledrestriction of thine, of terminating in accurate and similar rhymes.They are a constraint on thy flow of fancy, and make thee resemble a mandancing in fetters."
"The fetters are easily flung off, at least," said Blondel, againsweeping his fingers over the strings, as one who would rather haveplayed than listened to criticism.
"But why put them on, man?" continued the King. "Wherefore thrust thygenius into iron bracelets? I marvel how you got forward at all. I amsure I should not have been able to compose a stanza in yonder hamperedmeasure."
Blondel looked down, and busied himself with the strings of his harp, tohide an involuntary smile which crept over his features; but it escapednot Richard's observation.
"By my faith, thou laughest at me, Blondel," he said; "and, in goodtruth, every man deserves it who presumes to play the master when heshould be the pupil. But we kings get bad habits of self-opinion. Come,on with thy lay, dearest Blondel--on after thine own fashion, betterthan aught that we can suggest, though we must needs be talking."
Blondel resumed the lay; but as extemporaneous composition was familiarto him, he failed not to comply with the King's hints, and was perhapsnot displeased to show with how much ease he could new-model a poem,even while in the act of recitation.
THE BLOODY VEST.
FYTTE SECOND.
The Baptist's fair morro
w beheld gallant feats-- There was winning of honour and losing of seats; There was hewing with falchions and splintering of staves-- The victors won glory, the vanquish'd won graves. Oh, many a knight there fought bravely and well, Yet one was accounted his peers to excel, And 'twas he whose sole armour on body and breast Seem'd the weed of a damsel when bouned for her rest.
There were some dealt him wounds that were bloody and sore, But others respected his plight, and forbore. "It is some oath of honour," they said, "and I trow, 'Twere unknightly to slay him achieving his vow." Then the Prince, for his sake, bade the tournament cease-- He flung down his warder, the trumpets sung peace; And the judges declare, and competitors yield, That the Knight of the Night-gear was first in the field.
The feast it was nigh, and the mass it was nigher, When before the fair Princess low looted a squire, And deliver'd a garment unseemly to view, With sword-cut and spear-thrust, all hack'd and pierc'd through; All rent and all tatter'd, all clotted with blood, With foam of the horses, with dust, and with mud; Not the point of that lady's small finger, I ween, Could have rested on spot was unsullied and clean.
"This token my master, Sir Thomas a Kent, Restores to the Princess of fair Benevent; He that climbs the tall tree has won right to the fruit, He that leaps the wide gulf should prevail in his suit; Through life's utmost peril the prize I have won, And now must the faith of my mistress be shown: For she who prompts knights on such danger to run Must avouch his true service in front of the sun.
"'I restore,' says my master, 'the garment I've worn, And I claim of the Princess to don it in turn; For its stains and its rents she should prize it the more, Since by shame 'tis unsullied, though crimson'd with gore.'" Then deep blush'd the Princess--yet kiss'd she and press'd The blood-spotted robes to her lips and her breast. "Go tell my true knight, church and chamber shall show If I value the blood on this garment or no."
And when it was time for the nobles to pass, In solemn procession to minster and mass, The first walk'd the Princess in purple and pall, But the blood-besmear'd night-robe she wore over all; And eke, in the hall, where they all sat at dine, When she knelt to her father and proffer'd the wine, Over all her rich robes and state jewels she wore That wimple unseemly bedabbled with gore.
Then lords whisper'd ladies, as well you may think, And ladies replied with nod, titter, and wink; And the Prince, who in anger and shame had look'd down, Turn'd at length to his daughter, and spoke with a frown: "Now since thou hast publish'd thy folly and guilt, E'en atone with thy hand for the blood thou hast spilt; Yet sore for your boldness you both will repent, When you wander as exiles from fair Benevent."
Then out spoke stout Thomas, in hall where he stood, Exhausted and feeble, but dauntless of mood: "The blood that I lost for this daughter of thine, I pour'd forth as freely as flask gives its wine; And if for my sake she brooks penance and blame, Do not doubt I will save her from suffering and shame; And light will she reck of thy princedom and rent, When I hail her, in England, the Countess of Kent."
A murmur of applause ran through the assembly, following the exampleof Richard himself, who loaded with praises his favourite minstrel, andended by presenting him with a ring of considerable value. The Queenhastened to distinguish the favourite by a rich bracelet, and many ofthe nobles who were present followed the royal example.
"Is our cousin Edith," said the King, "become insensible to the sound ofthe harp she once loved?"
"She thanks Blondel for his lay," replied Edith, "but doubly thekindness of the kinsman who suggested it."
"Thou art angry, cousin," said the King; "angry because thou hast heardof a woman more wayward than thyself. But you escape me not. I will walka space homeward with you towards the Queen's pavilion. We must haveconference together ere the night has waned into morning."
The Queen and her attendants were now on foot, and the other guestswithdrew from the royal tent. A train with blazing torches, and anescort of archers, awaited Berengaria without the pavilion, and she wassoon on her way homeward. Richard, as he had proposed, walked besidehis kinswoman, and compelled her to accept of his arm as her support, sothat they could speak to each other without being overheard.
"What answer, then, am I to return to the noble Soldan?" said Richard."The kings and princes are falling from me, Edith; this new quarrel hathalienated them once more. I would do something for the Holy Sepulchre bycomposition, if not by victory; and the chance of my doing this depends,alas, on the caprice of a woman. I would lay my single spear in the restagainst ten of the best lances in Christendom, rather than argue with awilful wench who knows not what is for her own good. What answer, coz,am I to return to the Soldan? It must be decisive."
"Tell him," said Edith, "that the poorest of the Plantagenets willrather wed with misery than with misbelief."
"Shall I say with slavery, Edith?" said the King. "Methinks that isnearer thy thoughts."
"There is no room," said Edith, "for the suspicion you so grosslyinsinuate. Slavery of the body might have been pitied, but that of thesoul is only to be despised. Shame to thee, King of merry England. Thouhast enthralled both the limbs and the spirit of a knight, one scarceless famed than thyself."
"Should I not prevent my kinswoman from drinking poison, by sullyingthe vessel which contained it, if I saw no other means of disgusting herwith the fatal liquor?" replied the King.
"It is thyself," answered Edith, "that would press me to drink poison,because it is proffered in a golden chalice."
"Edith," said Richard, "I cannot force thy resolution; but beware youshut not the door which Heaven opens. The hermit of Engaddi--he whomPopes and Councils have regarded as a prophet--hath read in the starsthat thy marriage shall reconcile me with a powerful enemy, and that thyhusband shall be Christian, leaving thus the fairest ground to hope thatthe conversion of the Soldan, and the bringing in of the sons of Ishmaelto the pale of the church, will be the consequence of thy wedding withSaladin. Come, thou must make some sacrifice rather than mar such happyprospects."
"Men may sacrifice rams and goats," said Edith, "but not honour andconscience. I have heard that it was the dishonour of a Christian maidenwhich brought the Saracens into Spain; the shame of another is no likelymode of expelling them from Palestine."
"Dost thou call it shame to become an empress?" said the King.
"I call it shame and dishonour to profane a Christian sacrament byentering into it with an infidel whom it cannot bind; and I call it fouldishonour that I, the descendant of a Christian princess, should becomeof free will the head of a haram of heathen concubines."
"Well, kinswoman," said the King, after a pause, "I must not quarrelwith thee, though I think thy dependent condition might have dictatedmore compliance."
"My liege," replied Edith, "your Grace hath worthily succeeded to allthe wealth, dignity, and dominion of the House of Plantagenet--donot, therefore, begrudge your poor kinswoman some small share of theirpride."
"By my faith, wench," said the King, "thou hast unhorsed me with thatvery word, so we will kiss and be friends. I will presently dispatchthy answer to Saladin. But after all, coz, were it not better tosuspend your answer till you have seen him? Men say he is pre-eminentlyhandsome."
"There is no chance of our meeting, my lord," said Edith.
"By Saint George, but there is next to a certainty of it," said theKing; "for Saladin will doubtless afford us a free field for thedoing of this new battle of the Standard, and will witness it himself.Berengaria is wild to behold it also; and I dare be sworn not a featherof you, her companions and attendants, will remain behind--least of allthou thyself, fair coz. But come, we have reached the pavilion, and mustpart; not in unkindness thou, oh--nay, thou must seal it with thy lip aswell as thy hand, sweet Edith--it is my right as a sovereign to
kiss mypretty vassals."
He embraced her respectfully and affectionately, and returned throughthe moonlit camp, humming to himself such snatches of Blondel's lay ashe could recollect.
On his arrival he lost no time in making up his dispatches for Saladin,and delivered them to the Nubian, with a charge to set out by peep ofday on his return to the Soldan.