The Childhood of King Erik Menved Part 12

The tall man in the hooded cap stamped wrathfully on the floor, and, with hasty strides, left the knight's house, without saying a word.

Before evening, this occurrence was known all over Nyborg, with various explanatory additions; and Sir John was highly commended for his hardihood by Duke Waldemar and his adherents, who drew from it conclusions favourable to their case.

In the evening, as usual, there was a numerous a.s.semblage at Sir John's. The queen and the young princes were also expected. Drost Peter was invited, together with his guests. When Count Gerhard heard that the queen was to be there, he sprang from the reclining chair, for which he had now exchanged his bed, and swore, loud and deeply, that he would go, if he should have to keep his bed for it a whole month afterwards.

"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush," he said. "If I have not permission to-morrow, or the day after, to attend the court festivities, and if I should die of tedium in the meanwhile, I shall lie with a long nose in my grave. This surgeon is a tiresome fellow. He makes as much ado about this scratch as if I were a maiden, and wraps me up like a suckling. And you, fortune's favourite, whose head, nevertheless, I almost hewed off--you strut there, bold and nimble enough: I trow, indeed, you have had your head linked to your neck with chains of honour."

"I have a good skin for healing," replied Drost Peter; "and, this time, the sword did not penetrate far into it. In one sense, however, you are right," he added: "my head has not sat looser upon me for a long time; and this chain has certainly somewhat secured it. But leave the junketings alone, n.o.ble count. The skin is but thin upon your wound, and, to-night, you might easily be thrown into excitement."

"Excitement! that is just what I am intent upon," interrupted the count. "A person must still draw breath, however thin-skinned he may be. I cannot live in this fashion, like a mummy, much longer. I know I am master of my body: pity it is that we should let clerks and ghostly fathers be masters of our sinful souls! Give me my court-doublet and new mantle, Longlegs. Somewhat clumsy I may be in these wrappings, but I shall leave them on to please you."

Farther objections were vain. He donned his bright red lawn doublet, placed his feathered hat on his head, and cast a stiff, gold-fringed, purple mantle over his broad shoulders.

"So, so!" he said; "I know now that I look whole and sound enough.

Henceforth, I resign Dorothy Brushbroom to you, Longlegs: you, also, shall know what it is to be taken care of."

"I trust you may find the distinguished ladies as interested about your person as she has been, my gracious master," replied the jester; "but, since you seldom go so near them that they can see you, you should take my jingling-jacket, that they may hear you in the distance."

"There! you hear, Drost Peter, what I must digest, and give the clown food and wages for, merely to exercise me in Christian humbleness and patience. You are right, Longlegs. I am a little too sheepish on certain occasions; but that is a virtue your losel should respect, and apply himself to. To-night you shall see otherwise, and that I shall do you honour, Longlegs," continued the count, gaily: "I have not had such courage to talk with the ladies for a long time. Your nurse can bear witness, sir drost, that it is a falsehood and a slander, when foul tongues say I lose heart and speech with the ladies."

"No one shall say so of you any longer, gracious sir. I was shamefully unjust," replied Longlegs, bowing. "If I could not hear you snore, for some nights past, as I would have given much to have done, I had, nevertheless, at times, the pleasure of hearing your most gracious growlings; and, for these, I thanked the Holy Virgin. They are, at all times, a sure sign of life. Now, therefore, if you should like to cudgel me for your amus.e.m.e.nt, gracious master, you must stop at home."

Without listening farther to his jester, the count set out with his knight and Drost Peter. In his impatience to reach old Sir John's abode, he hurried on so fast, that his attentive host held him back, to remind him that such haste was dangerous to him. But the count suddenly slackened his pace, as soon as he perceived the magnificently illuminated building, where, under the linden trees, at the foot of the grand staircase, stood two rows of the royal household servants, with lighted torches.

"I am also to see the young princes to-night," he said. "Your pupil, the young heir to the throne, should be like his mother. You are a happy man, Drost Peter, who can train and bring up such a n.o.ble shoot."

"I fully acknowledge it," replied Drost Peter, with ardour. "I hope he shall become a worthy descendant of Waldemar Seier, his ill.u.s.trious ancestor, whose chivalrous manner of thinking, and regard for truth and justice, I believe he already inherits. With G.o.d's help, he will do honour to his race."

"But is the mother really there, too, in the house of a simple knight?"

"A simple knight!" repeated Drost Peter, somewhat offended. "Old Sir John is a son's son of Esbern Snare's daughter: he numbers the great Absalom in his race. But were he even a simple knight, without distinguished birth, he is still a man of such merit, that the king and queen need not be ashamed of being his guests. Both his wife and daughter are the queen's dearest friends."

"Sooth to say, my good friend," observed Count Gerhard, in a half whisper, and drawing Drost Peter aside, "you give quality a good day; but I am almost ashamed to show myself before the queen. I only saw her at that devil's tourney at Helsingborg, where you took the prize from me, and I could not say a single word to her from sheer bashfulness.

Among men, I have not the reputation of sheepishness; and, when I walk before the eyes of kings and emperors, I feel myself to be as good as they: but, plague on it! all my confidence vanishes when I want to express myself gracefully before the fair ones."

"Notwithstanding your backwardness, you are not unknown to the queen, n.o.ble count," replied Drost Peter. "Tour valour and discretion in the lists were not un.o.bserved; and I were a fool should I brag of the superiority of which you were deprived by a mere casual accident."

"She has spoken of me, say you, without dwelling on my awkward homage, when I made the attempt to salute her during the tilting?"

"If she has smiled at that, n.o.ble count, I can still a.s.sure you that neither mockery nor contempt--"

"Mockery and contempt!" interrupted the count, proudly: "by Satan! who thinks of that? Had the most amiable lady in Christendom contemned Count Gerhard, she must have sent her knight into the field to make me reparation. I am not quite so bashful as to be afraid of that. But tell me frankly," continued he, "am I not too stout and stiff, in these frightful swaddling bands, to show myself becomingly in such company?"

"You are not at all amiss," answered Drost Peter, smiling. "A bandage over the breast never disfigures a knightly gentleman: in my eyes, it even makes you somewhat majestic in your bearing."

"Very good, my brave friend. I have you to thank for the majestic bearing. But you are right: if a knight has only his fame whole and sound, his body may be in what condition it may; he, at least, must be esteemed as most valiant by every n.o.ble and high-souled lady."

Count Gerhard now boldly ascended the steps of Sir John's dwelling, attended by Drost Peter and the two knights. In the ante-room servants received their hats and mantles, and opened the large oaken door leading into a magnificent vaulted apartment, which was illumined by wax-lights, on tall candelabra, borne by brazen wolves. Ladies and knights stood, here and there, in groups, on the polished oaken floor, engaged in lively conversation; while others sat, playing at chess, and similar amus.e.m.e.nts. From another saloon, still larger, the door of which stood open, came the music of flutes and violins. A _kaempevise_[14] was played, accompanied by the voices of a number of maidens and an elegantly performed dance. A knight, in magnificent attire, was seen in stately motion with a majestic lady in a scarlet kirtle, glittering with gold and precious stones.

"The queen!" whispered Count Gerhard into the drost's ear, and remained standing, astonished, at the first door.

"And Duke Waldemar!" added Drost Peter, who also stood surprised, but not at the beauty and n.o.ble bearing of the queen, which he had so often admired: the young duke's haughty, self-complacent countenance first struck his eyes. A distressing thought flashed suddenly as a thunderbolt through his soul, and, involuntarily, he grasped Count Gerhard by the arm.

"What is the matter with you, my good friend?" whispered Count Gerhard: "have you, too, become giddy at the sight? I have had enough already.

By our Lady! it is a beauty unapproachable."

Sir John, as soon as he was made aware of the entrance of the newly-arrived guests, advanced gaily and courteously towards them.

"Welcome, my lords," said the old knight. "I am rejoiced that the n.o.ble Count Gerhard can contradict, in person, the rumour that is current respecting a dangerous wound."

"A false rumour, sir counsellor; which has, nevertheless, induced me to keep my room for a few days," replied the count, in a jocular tone.

"Here are life and merriment, I see; and one may be given up for death, if he do not find himself well here. Be pleased to present me to your n.o.ble lady and daughter; and, when the dance is over, to her grace the queen." The latter words he added in a subdued tone, and drew a long breath after having uttered them, his eyes again turning towards the dancing saloon.

"As you command," replied the lively old knight, with a sportive smile.

"It is easily to be seen what portion of the human family Count Gerhard sets the highest value upon. My daughter, I perceive, is now standing up for the dance; but I can present you to my wife immediately, if you please."

Count Gerhard had not heard a single word. He stared, like one in a dream, into the dancing-saloon, where the fair queen had, just at that instant, curtsied with n.o.ble dignity to her princely partner, and, on his arm, moved down the room to her seat, amidst the dazzling young daughters of the chivalrous guests, and eclipsing them all with her loveliness.

A new piece of music and song was commenced, and a new couple were in motion on the floor. The lady was Sir John's daughter, Cecilia. She could not vie with the queen in dazzling beauty and majesty, but quite equalled her in the spirit and grace of her motions. With an earnestness that better suited the song than her partner's smiling mien, she regarded, with her dark, l.u.s.trous eyes, the knight who extended his hand to her, and who, in gracefulness and courtesy, seemed to vie with Duke Waldemar. This polite cavalier was the duke's drost, Sir Tuko Abildgaard, a bold and ambitious gentleman, celebrated for his influence over the duke, and as famed for his good fortune with the fair s.e.x as for his fickleness in love, and his haughty, soaring claims to distinction. He appeared intent on distinguishing the Lady Cecilia among all the ladies at court. He seemed to give but little heed to the song to which they danced: it was a sweet and melancholy air, to the ballad of Sir Sverkel's unfortunate love to his unknown sister. Drost Peter listened to it with much interest; and even the otherwise merry Count Gerhard stood silent and serious, while the young damsels sang:--

"Pray thou, hart, and pray thou, hind, That I may forget the little Kirstine; Pray thou, hart, and pray thou, roe, That I may forget my true love so."

"The foul fiend!" muttered Count Gerhard to himself; and, to his own astonishment, his eyes almost overflowed as the young damsels continued:

"He prayed the hart, and prayed the hind, But never was the maiden from his mind; He prayed the hart, and prayed the roe, But could not forget his true love so."

Count Gerhard's absent gaze into the dancing-saloon caused old Sir John to cast an attentive look in the same direction, and the sight of his daughter's undisguised interest in Sir Abildgaard did not seem to please him. His cheerful countenance suddenly a.s.sumed an air of deep seriousness, while the damsels now sang:--

"The knight he from his land was driven, And the lady to a cloister given."

Both the old and the younger knight appeared absorbed in the same dreamy mood which the melancholy song was calculated to produce, but each in a different manner, according to the ideas they a.s.sociated therewith. Yet, in the midst of the general merriment and splendour of the festivity, there were, apparently, but few who gave heed to the tenor of the song. Its conclusion, in particular, affected Drost Peter to melancholy. He involuntarily laid hold of the ruby rosary on his breast, that served to remind him of his half-forgotten child-bride, while the damsels sang:--

"A bird so small from the white strand flew, And she sang, Where is my heart's love true?

A bird so small o'er the sea flew wide, And he sang, O where is my own true bride?

For chastest maiden I dree."

"It is allowed that you are a lover of the dance and song, ill.u.s.trious Count Gerhard," said old Sir John, in his usual social tone, and turning, with a cheerful countenance, to his abstracted guest. "If you wish, now I shall conduct you to the queen and the young ladies."

Count Gerhard bowed stiffly, and followed the old knight, without observing the breach of propriety of which he had been guilty, in not greeting the n.o.ble and matronly Lady Ingefried, who went round among the guests, and received their salutations, accompanied by a waiting-maid, bearing a silver salver with filled wine-cups.

While Drost Peter, as a well-known and daily guest, saluted the worthy house-mother, old Sir John and his distinguished attendant, before they reached the dancing-saloon, were stopped by two handsomely attired youths in scarlet jackets, with gold chains about their fine linen collars. They were both flushed with anger, and had come from the dice-table, where they had had a dispute. The one was the eleven years'

old Prince Erik, who, from his second year, had taken the name of king, and the other, his brother, Junker Christopher, two years his junior, and half a head shorter, but apparently his superior in strength, though not in sprightliness and beauty.

"You shall decide between us, Sir John: you know what right is," said the little king, warmly. "Suppose the gold dice are islands and countries, and the counters knights and swains: have I, as eldest, the privilege of taking first? And suppose, further, that I, with my knights and swains, surround and conquer all Christopher's islands and countries, are they, by right, mine? If he will merely admit that, he shall readily have them back again. What care I for the dice!"