Beltane the Smith Part 10

"n.o.ble sir, I had a daughter and she was young and fair, therefore came my lord Pertolepe's chief verderer to bear her to my lord. But she cried to me and I, forgetting my duty to my lord, took my quarter-staff and, serf though I was, smote the chief verderer that he died thereafter, but, ere he died, he named my daughter witch. And, when they had burned her, they put out mine eyes, and cut off my hand, and made of me an outlaw. So is my sin very heavy upon me."

Now when the man had made an end, Beltane stood silent awhile, then, reaching down, he aided the blind man to his feet.

"Go you to Mortain," said he, "seek out the hermit Ambrose that liveth in Holy Cross Thicket; with him shall you find refuge, and he, methinks, will surely win thy soul to heaven."

So the blind man blessed my Beltane and turning, crept upon his solitary way.

"Youth," said the friar, frowning up into Beltane's gentle eyes, "thou hast this day put thy soul in jeopardy--the Church doth frown upon this thy deed!"

"And yet, most reverend sir, G.o.d's sun doth shine upon this my body!"

FRIAR. "He who aideth an evil-doer is enemy to the good!"

BELTANE. "Yet he who seeketh to do good to evil that good may follow, doeth no evil to good."

FRIAR. "Ha! thou art a menace to the state--"

BELTANE. "So shall I be, I pray G.o.d, the whiles this state continue!"

FRIAR. "Thou art either rogue or fool!"

BELTANE. "Well, thou hast thy choice."

FRIAR. "Alack! this sorry world is full of rogues and fools and--"

BELTANE. "And friars!"

FRIAR. "Who seek the salvation of this wretched world."

BELTANE. "As how?"

FRIAR. "Forsooth we meditate and pray--"

BELTANE. "And eat!"

FRIAR. "Aye verily, we do a little in that way as the custom is, for your reverent eater begetteth a devout pray-er. The which mindeth me I grow an hungered, yet will I forego appet.i.te and yield thee this fair pasty for but two of thy gold pieces. And, look ye, 'tis a n.o.ble pasty I had this day from my lord Pertolepe's own table."

BELTANE. "That same lord that showed mercy on yonder poor maimed wretch? Know you him?"

FRIAR. "In very sooth, and 'tis a potent lord that holdeth me in some esteem, a most Christian knight--"

BELTANE. "That ravisheth the defenceless! Whose hands be foul with the blood of innocence--"

FRIAR. "How--how? 'Tis a G.o.dly lord who giveth bounteously to Holy Church--"

BELTANE. "Who stealeth from the poor--"

FRIAR. "Stealeth! Holy Saint Dunstan, dare ye speak thus of so great a lord--a son of the Church, a companion of our n.o.ble Duke? Steal, forsooth! The poor have nought to steal!"

BELTANE. "They have their lives."

FRIAR. "Not so, they and their lives are their lord's, 'tis so the law and--"

BELTANE. "Whence came this law?"

FRIAR. "It came, youth--it came--aye, of G.o.d!"

BELTANE. "Say rather of the devil!"

FRIAR. "Holy Saint Michael--'tis a blasphemous youth! Never heard ears the like o' this--"

BELTANE. "Whence cometh poverty and famine?"

FRIAR. "'Tis a necessary evil! Doth it not say in Holy Writ, 'the poor ye have always with you'?"

BELTANE. "Aye, so shall ye ever--until the laws be amended. So needs must men starve and starve--"

FRIAR. "There be worse things! And these serfs be born to starve, bred up to it, and 'tis better to starve here than to perish hereafter, better to purge the soul by lack of meat than to make of it a fetter of the soul!"

"Excellently said, holy sir!" quoth Beltane, stooping of a sudden. "But for this pasty now, 'tis a somewhat solid fetter, meseemeth, so now do I free thee of it--thus!" So saying, my Beltane dropped the pasty into the deeper waters of the brook and, thereafter, took up his staff. "Sir Friar," said he, "behold to-day is thy soul purged of a pasty against the day of judgment!"

Then Beltane went on beside the rippling waters of the brook, but above its plash and murmur rose the deeptoned maledictions of Friar Gui.

CHAPTER IX

WHEREIN IS SOME ACCOUNT OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF FOLLY AND THE WISDOM OF A FOOL

As the day advanced the sun grew ever hotter; birds chirped drowsily from hedge and thicket, and the warm, still air was full of the slumberous drone of a myriad unseen wings. Therefore Beltane sought the deeper shade of the woods and, risking the chance of roving thief or lurking foot-pad, followed a devious course by reason of the underbrush.

Now as he walked him thus, within the cool, green twilight, watchful of eye and with heavy quarter-staff poised upon his shoulder, he presently heard the music of a pipe now very mournful and sweet, anon breaking into a merry lilt full of rippling trills and soft, bubbling notes most pleasant to be heard. Wherefore he went aside and thus, led by the music, beheld a jester in his motley lying a-sprawl beneath a tree. A long-legged knave was he, pinched and something doleful of visage yet with quick bright eyes that laughed 'neath sombre brows, and a wide, up-curving mouth; upon his escalloped cape and flaunting c.o.c.k's-comb were many little bells that rang a silvery chime as, up-starting to his elbow, he greeted my Beltane thus:

"Hail, n.o.ble, youthful Sir, and of thy sweet and gracious courtesy I pray you mark me this--the sun is hot, my belly lacketh, and thou art a fool!"

"And wherefore?" questioned Beltane, leaning him upon his quarter-staff.

"For three rarely reasonable reasons, sweet sir, as thus:--item, for that the sun burneth, item, my belly is empty, and item, thou, lured by this my foolish pipe art hither come to folly. So I, a fool, do greet thee, fool, and welcome thee to this my palace of ease and pleasaunce where, an ye be minded to list to the folly of a rarely foolish fool, I will, with foolish j.a.pe and quip, befool thy mind to mirth and jollity, for thou art a sad fool, methinks, and something melancholic!"

Quoth Beltane, sighing:

"'Tis a sad world and very sorrowful!"

"Nay--'tis a sweet world and very joyful--for such as have eyes to see withal!"

"To see?" quoth Beltane, frowning, "this day have I seen a dead man a-swing on a tree, a babe dead beside its cradle, and a woman die upon a spear! All day have I breathed an air befouled by nameless evil; whithersoever I go needs must I walk 'twixt Murder and Shame!"