In Convent Walls Part 15

Note 9. Dr Barnes tells his readers that Lancaster was at this time so old as to be nearly decrepit; and two years later, that he was "almost blind for age." He was exactly forty-one, having been born in 1287 (Inq. Tho. Com. Lane, 1 Edward the Third 1. 88), and 53 years had not elapsed since the marriage of his parents. We may well say, after Chancellor Oxenstiern, "See with how little accuracy history is written!"

Note 10. Tender, sensitive, either in body or mind. This word is still a provincialism in the North and West.

Note 11. _Prob. aet. Johannis Com. Kant._, 23 Edward the Third 76, compared with _Rot. Pat._, 4 Edward the Third, Part 1, and _Rot.

Claus._, 4 Edward the Third.

PART ONE, CHAPTER 6.

NEMESIS.

"The mills of G.o.d grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small."

Longfellow.

After this, the Queen kept the King well in hand. To speak sooth, I should say the old Queen, or Queen Isabel, for now had we a young Queen.

But verily, all this time Queen Philippa was treated as of small account; and she, that was alway sweet and gent, dwelt full peaceably, content with her babe, our young Prince of Wales, that was born at Woodstock, at Easter of the King's fourth year [Note 1], and the old Queen Isabel ruled all. She seemed fearful of letting the King out of her sight. When he journeyed to the North in August, she went withal, and came back with him to Nottingham in October. It was she that writ to my Lord of Hereford that he should not fail to be at the Colloquy [note 2] to be held in that town the fifteenth of October. With her was ever my Lord of March, that was as her shadow: my Lady of March, that might have required to have her share of him with some reason, being left lone with her childre in Ludlow Castle. It was the 13th of October that we came to Nottingham. My Lord of Hereford, that was Lord High Constable, was at that time too sick to execute his office (or thought he was); maybe he desired to keep him well out of a thing he foresaw: howbeit, he writ his excuse to the King, praying that his brother Sir Edward de Bohun might be allowed his deputy. To this the King a.s.sented: but my Lord of March, that I guess mistrusted more Sir Edward than his brother (the one having two eyes in his head, and the other as good as none), counselled the Queen to take into her own hand the keys of the Castle. Which she did, having them every night brought to her by Sir William Eland, then Constable thereof, and she laid them under her own pillow while the morning.

The part of my tale to follow I tell as it was told to me, in so far as matters fell not under mine eye.

The King, the old Queen, the Earl of March, and the Bishop of Lincoln, were lodged in the Castle with their following: and Sir Edward de Bohun, doing office for his brother, appointed my Lord of Lancaster to have his lodging there likewise. Whereat my glorious Lord of March was greatly angered, that he should presume to appoint a lodging for any of the n.o.bles so near the person of Queen Isabel. (He offered not to go forth himself.) Sir Edward smiled something grimly, and appointed my Lord of Lancaster his lodging a mile forth of the town, where my Lord of Hereford also was.

That night was dancing in the hall; and a little surprised was I that Sir William de Montacute [Note 3] should make choice of me as his partner. He was one of the bravest knights in all the King's following--a young man, with all his wits about him, and lately wed to the Lady Katherine de Grandison, a full fair lady of much skill [Note 4]

and exceeding good repute. It was the pavon [Note 5] we danced, and not many steps were taken when Sir William saith--

"Dame Cicely, I have somewhat to say to you, under your good leave."

"Say on, Sir William," quoth I.

"Say I well, Dame, in supposing you true of heart to the old King, as Dame Alice de Lethegreve's daughter should be?"

"You do so, in good sooth," I made answer.

"So I reckoned," quoth he. "Verily, an' I had doubted it, I had held my peace. But now to business:--Dame, will you help me?"

I could not choose but laugh to hear him talk of business.

"That is well," saith he. "Laugh, I pray you; then shall man think we do but discourse of light matter. But what say you to my question?"

"Why, I will help you with a very good will," said I, "if you go about a good matter, and if I am able, and if mine husband forbid me not."

"Any more ifs?" quoth he--that I reckon wished to make me to laugh, the which I did.

"Not at this present," made I answer.

"Then hearken me," saith he. "Can you do a deed in the dark, unwitting of the cause--knowing only that it is for the King's honour and true good, and that they which ask it be true men?"

I meditated a moment. Then said I,--"Ay; I can so."

"Will you pa.s.s your word," saith he, "to the endeavouring yourself to keep eye on the Queen and my Lord of March this even betwixt four and five o' the clock? Will you look from time to time on Sir John de Molynes, and if you hear either of them speak any thing as though they should go speak with the King, will you rub your left eye when Sir John shall look on you? But be you ware you do it not elsewise."

"What, not though it itch?" said I, yet laughing.

"Not though it itch to drive you distraught."

"Well!" said I, "'tis but for a hour. But what means it, I pray you?"

"It means," saith he, "that if the King's good is to be sought, and his honour to be saved, you be she that must help to do it."

Then all suddenly it came on me, like to a levenand [lightning] flash, what it was that Sir William and his fellows went about to do. I looked full into his eyes. And if ever I saw truth, honour, and valour writ in man's eyes, I read them there.

"I see what you purpose," said I.

"You be marvellous woman an' you do," answered he.

"Judge you. You have chosen that hour to speak with the King, and to endeavour the opening of his eyes. For Queen Isabel or my Lord of March to enter should spoil your game. Sir John de Molynes is he that shall give you notice if such be like to befall, and I am to signify the same to him."

Right at that minute I had to take a volt [jump], and turn to the right round Sir John Neville. When I returned back to my partner, saith he, so that Sir John could hear--

"Dame Cicely, you vault marvellous well!"

"That was not so ill as might have been, I reckon," quoth I.

"Truly, nay," he made answer: "it was right well done."

I knew he meant to signify that I had guessed soothly.

"Will you try it yet again?" saith he.

"That will I," I said: and I saw we were at one thereon.

"Good," saith he. "I reckoned, if any failed me at this pinch, it should not be Dame Alice's daughter."

That eve stood I upon tenterhooks. As the saints would have it, the Queen was a-broidering a certain work whereon Dame Elizabeth wrought with her: and for once in my life I thanked the said hallows [saints]

for Dame Elizabeth's laziness.

"Dame Cicely," quoth she, "an' you be not sore pressed for time, pray you, thread me a two-three needles. I wis not how it befalleth, but thread a neeld can I never."

I could have told her well that _how_, for whenso she threadeth a neeld she maketh no bones of the eye, but thrusteth forward the thread any whither it shall go, on the chance that it shall hit, which by times it doth: I should not marvel an' she essayed to thread the point. Howbeit, her ill husbandry was right then mine encheson [Note 6].

"Look you," said I, "I can bring my work to that end of the chamber; then shall I be at hand to thread your neeld as it shall be voided."

"Verily, you be gent therein," saith she.

The which I fear I was little. Howbeit, there sat I, a-threading Dame Elizabeth her neeld, now with red silk and now with black, as she lacked, and under all having care that I rubbed not my left eye, the which I felt strong desire to frote [rub]. I marvel how it was, for the hour over, I had no list to touch it all the even.

My task turned out light enough, for my Lord of March was playing of tables [backgammon] with Sir Edward de Bohun, and never left his seat for all the hour: and the Queen wrought peacefully on her golden vulture, and moved no more than he. When I saw it was five o' the clock [Note 7], I cast an eye on Sir John de Molynes, which threw a look to the clock, and then winked an eye on me; and I saw he took it we had finished our duty.