CHAPTER XXXVII.
To write a really good play is undoubtedly a much more difficultthing, and the achievement a much more glorious one, than to write agood romance; and yet the dramatist has some very great advantagesover the romance writer. He is conventionally permitted to skip overall dull details, which the romance-writer is obliged to furnish. Theprominent points alone are those with which he deals; the burden ofthe rest is cast upon nimble-footed imagination, who, supplies in amoment, from her own inexhaustible stores, all that is requisite tocomplete the tale, with much richer and more brilliant materials thanpen or tongue can afford. If some reference to events going on at adistance from the scene be necessary in words, they may be as brief asthe writer wills; and all that is needful to describe the approach ofdangers, which have been long preparing, and the effect upon him towhom the tale is told, is comprised in two brief sentences:
_Stanley_--Richmond is on the seas. _King Richard_--There let him sink--and be the seas on him, White-livered runagate!
This is quite enough; and although I have heard the admirable criticsobject to the conceit approaching to a pun, expressed in the secondline, as unnatural, when placed in the mouth of a man agitated byviolent passions, as in the case of Richard, yet that man must havebeen a very poor observer of human nature, who does not know that theexpression of strong passion is full of conceits. It seems as ifordinary words and ordinary forms fail before the energies of passion,and that recourse is had to language often obscure, often.extravagant, sometimes ludicrous, and always full of conceits.
However that may be, it is needful for me to give somewhat more atlength the course of events which Shakspeare summed up but briefly. Iwill be rapid too, and pretend, in this short chapter, to give but asketch of events, which took several months in action.
Weary men sleep not always sound; and, in less than four hours afterthe earl of Richmond had laid his head upon his pillow at Angers, heagain came forth from his chamber, and went down to that large publicroom, which in those days, and for many years after, was to be foundin every inn, both in France and England. When he entered, the roomwas tenanted by only one person, for the dinner hour was passed; butthat person advanced to meet him at once, with a low reverence. "Ha,Sir Christopher Urswick," said the earl; "right glad am I to see you.The passport you obtained for me from the court of France served meright well this morning at the city gates. By my faith, the pursuerswere close upon my heels. But why did you not come yourself?"
"Because I should have been in prison at Nantes by this time, andcould serve you better in France," replied Urswick. "There are many ofyour friends waiting for you, sir, with anxious expectation, at thecourt of Langeais; and Madame de Beaujeu, the regent of the kingdom,is prepared to receive you as your dignity requires."
"Then am I expected?" asked Richmond.
"Many things are foreseen, which we can hardly say are expected,"answered Urswick; "but all knew that, within a month, you must beeither in France or England."
Richmond paused in thought, and then asked: "How far is it hence toLangeais?"
"Barely twenty leagues, my lord," replied the other; "an easy ride oftwo short days."
"And what is now the state of France?" asked Richmond, fixing his keeninquiring eyes upon him.
"Still sadly troubled," replied Urswick. "The contest for the guard ofthe king's person and the rule of the kingdom still goes on. Orleans,Dunois, and the old constable, on the one side, pull hard againstMadame de Beaujeu, her husband, and the rest of the court, on theother; and there is nothing but cabals, dissensions, and from time totime outbreaks; but the princess has more wit than the whole of Franceput together; and she will break through all their plots, and confoundtheir intrigues. Still the state is very much troubled, and a newrevolt is expected every day."
"Then we can pause, and rest at Angers," said Richmond, gravely. "If Ihave many friends at the court of France, I have been obliged to leavemany at the court of Britanny. Their safety must be considered atonce. I will write to the good duke, before I break bread. I pray you,in the mean time, seek me a trusty messenger. Let him be a Frenchman,for there might be danger to any other."
Prompt to execute his determinations, the earl at once addressed aletter to the duke of Britanny, explaining the causes of his flight,and pointing out to the weak but amiable prince the stain which hisminister had brought upon his name, by engaging to give up a guest,who trusted his hospitality, to a bitter enemy.
He urged not, it is true, the punishment of Landais; but he entreatedthat his friends, the companions of his exile, might be permitted tojoin him in France.
This letter had all the effect he could have desired. Free permissionto go or stay was granted to every Englishman at the Breton court; andthe rage and shame of the duke, at the misuse of his power by Landais,joined with the vehement accusations brought against that upstartminister by the Breton nobles, induced the prince to give him up tojustice, reserving to himself indeed the right to pardon him, if heshould be condemned by a court of justice. The proceedings, however,were too speedy for the slow duke. Landais was condemned; and he washung also, while the signature to his pardon was still wet.
Three days after his arrival at Angers, the earl of Richmond set outfor Langeais, and early on the second day reached the gates of thatfine old ch?teau, in the great saloon of which may still be seen thesculptured memorials of joys and ceremonies long past, which usheredin the reign of the active and enterprising Charles VIII. Hisreception was kind and cordial; but, as Urswick had informed him,trouble still reigned at the court of France; and some weeks elapsedbefore the earl could obtain anything like a promise of assistancefrom Madame de Beaujeu. Then, however, she engaged to furnish a smalland insignificant force, to form merely the nucleus of an army to beraised in England. Two thousand men alone was all that France offered;but with this insufficient army Richmond determined to take the field,and named Rouen, where he had many friends, as the meeting-place ofhis troops. The assistance in money was not greater than theassistance in men; and the hard condition of leaving hostages for thepayment of all sums advanced was inforced by the shrewd regent ofFrance, whose whole object and expectation, apparently, was, bystirring up civil wars in England, to prevent Richard from pressingany of those claims which he had against the neighbouring sovereign.
She had to deal, indeed, with one perhaps as shrewd as herself; and,although Richmond could not refuse the demand, he took advantage of itto free himself of a person whose lightness and incapacity renderedhim little serviceable as an ally, and whose sincerity and good faithwere somewhat more than doubtful. Dorset was easily persuaded to avoidthe perils of an enterprise, the result of which no one could foresee,by remaining as one of the hostages in Paris, with another gentlemanwhom the earl felt he could do very well without; and Richmonddeparted for Rouen, resolved to strike for life or death, a throne ora grave, with whatever means fortune might furnish.
A number of gallant English gentlemen surrounded the future king. Butthey were in almost all cases without followers, and but scantilyprovided with money. It was therefore not upon their unaided arms thatRichmond could depend for a crown; and, as he rode into the fine oldtown of Rouen, a shade of despondency came over his countenance, neververy bright and cheerful. But at the door of the house which had beenprepared for him he was met by the boy Pierre la Brousse, who had beensent on to announce his coming, and now sprang forward to hold hisstirrup.
"The good bishop is waiting within, my lord," said the boy eagerly, asRichmond dismounted. "He has news for you from England--" and then,giving a glance at the earl's face, he added--"Good news, my lord."
"You seem much in his confidence," said Richmond, coldly. "Does hetell you whether his news is good or bad?"
"His face does," replied the boy. "I watch men's faces."
Richmond smiled and walked on, guided by Pierre, to the room whereMorton sat. For a moment the prelate did not seem to hear the openingdoor, but remained, with the light of the lamp well
nigh absorbed bythe black ceiling and the dark arras, poring over some papers on thetable before him. The next instant, however, he raised his eyes asRichmond advanced, and, starting up, exclaimed--
"I beg your pardon, my lord the king, I did not hear you enter."
"The king?" said Richmond. "You forget, good father, I am as yet noking."
"But shall be so within a month," replied Morton, laying his hand onthe papers, "if there be but one word true in ten of all that iswritten in these letters. But you are weary, you are thirsty. Let meorder some refreshment, while supper is preparing."
"I am weary of disappointments, thirsty for hope," replied Richmond."Give me your tidings, before I drink or rest. Now, boy, retire;" andhe seated himself by the side of the chair which Morton had beenoccupying.
"This, my lord, from the gallant earl of Northumberland," said Morton,handing him one letter. "See what comfortable assurances he gives ofthe north."
Richmond read, and looked well satisfied, but said nothing; and thenMorton handed him another, saying--
"This from Sir Walter Herbert."
"But poor comfort, that," observed Richmond. "He bids you be assuredthat, whatever appearances he may put on, he will stand neuter. Thisis cold, right reverend father."
"In some cases, neutrality is better than favour," replied Morton."Herbert is Richard's right hand in Wales. If his right hand fail him,his left will serve him but little. Read this from Rice ap Thomas."
"Ay, this is more cheering," exclaimed Richmond, his face brightening."A thousand men! Why 'tis half the force we bring hence. But thinkyou, reverend friend, that he can keep his word?"
"That he has the will, doubt not," replied the bishop of Ely, "and hispower must be shorn indeed, if he double not the number promised. Nowmark, my noble prince, what is said by this good Captain Savage--aleader of no mean renown, and a man whose bare word will outweigh theoaths of other men. Listen, 'Wales waits for his coming, as thosewho watch for the dawn. She feels he is her son, and will give him thewelcome of a parent.' Tudor will meet here many kinsmen, more friendsthan kinsmen, more soldiers than friends, more servants than all; forthose will serve him with their hearts and their purses, their prayersand their means, who have not strength to draw a sword nor power toraise a force. Let him land nowhere but in Wales."
"And so say I," exclaimed Richmond; "my first footsteps upon Britishshore shall be in the land of my fathers. I will go forth to seek thecrown, which is my right, from my own native home; and with suchpromises as these, such friendship as yours, so good a cause, so basean enemy, I will march on even with my little band, assured ofvictory, and shame the petty aid of miserly France, by winninggloriously, or leave my bones to pay the miserable debt, and let themgo to England to fetch them back. Now, my good lord bishop, for ourpreparations; for I will not tarry longer by a day than I can help, onthis ungenerous soil."
"Nay, my noble prince, take some refreshment," said Morton; "theproper hour for supper has long passed, and I doubt much that youtarried on the road for either food or rest."
"Ha! supper--I had forgot," said Richmond; "well, I suppose, man musteat. So we will sup, and call my brave companions in to aid us. Thenwill we discuss our after measures, hear all their counsel, andadopt--our own."