The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 11

HE: Verily.

SHE: Then I pray thee keep it for me lest I lose it by the way and so--let us begone.

Here Sir Pertinax started.

"Begone?" quoth he. "Begone--in truth? Thou and I in faith? Go whither?"

SHE: Any whither.

HE: Alone? Thou and I?

"Nay, not alone," she sighed; "let us go together."

Sir Pertinax dropped his fishing-rod and watched it idly float away down the stream:

"Together, maiden?" said he at last.

"Truly!" she sighed. "For thou art lonely even as I am lonely, and thou art, methinks, one a lonely maid may trust."

"Ha--trust!" quoth he. "And wherefore would'st trust me, maiden?"

SHE: For two reasons--thou art of age mature and something ill-favoured.

Now, at this Sir Pertinax grew angered, grew thoughtful, grew sad and, beholding his image mirrored in the waters, sighed for his grim, unlovely look and, in his heart, cursed his vile garb anew. At last he spoke:

HE: Truly thou may'st trust me, maiden.

SHE: And wherefore sighest thou, sad soldier?

HE: Verily for thy two reasons. Though, for mine age, I am not forty turned.

Saying which, he sighed again, and stared gloomily into the murmurous waters. But presently, chancing to look aside, he beheld a head low down amid the underwood, a head huge and hairy with small, fierce eyes that watched him right bodefully, and a great mouth that grinned evilly; and now as he stared, amazed by this monstrous head, it nodded grimly, speaking thus:

"Lob, Lobkyn he Commandeth thee To let her be And set her free, Thou scurvy, cutpurse, outlaw knave, Lest hanged thou be Upon a tree For roguery And villainy, Thou knavish, misbegotten slave; For proud is she Of high degree, As unto ye Explicitly--"

"Ha!" quoth Sir Pertinax, rising and drawing sword. "Now, be thou imp of Satan, fiend accursed, or goblin fell, come forth, and I with steel will try thee, Thing!"

Out from the leaves forthwith crawled a dwarf bowed of leg, mighty of shoulder, humped of back, and with arms very long and thick and hairy. In one great fist he grasped a ponderous club shod with iron spikes, and now, resting his hands on this and his chin on his hands, he scowled at the Knight, yet grinned also.

"Ho!" he cried, rolling big head in threatening fashion:

"Vile dog, thy rogue's sconce cracked shall be, Thy base-born bones be-thwacked shall be. I'll deal thee many a dour ding For that thou darest name me--Thing!"

"Now, as I live!" said Sir Pertinax, scowling also. "Here will I, and with great joyance, cleave me thine impish mazzard and split thee to thy beastly chine. And for thy ill rhyming:

"I with this goodly steel will halve thee And into clammy goblets carve thee.

So stand, Thing, to thy club betake thee, And soon, Thing, I will no-thing make thee."

But, as they closed on each other with eager and deadly intent, the maid stepped lightly betwixt.

"Stay, soldier--hold!" she commanded. "Here is none but Lobkyn Lollo--poor, brave Lob, nor will I suffer him to harm thee."

"How, maiden?" snorted the good Knight fiercely. "Harm me, say'st thou--yon puny Thing?"

"Truly, soldier!" said she, roguish-eyed. "For though thou art very ungentle, harsh of tongue, of visage grim and manners rude--I would not have Lob harm thee--yet!"

Now hereupon our bold Sir Pertinax With indignation red of face did wax.

The needful word his tongue was vainly seeking, Since what he felt was quite beyond the speaking.

Though quick his hand to ward or give a blow, His tongue all times unready was and slow, Therefore he speechless looked upon the maid, Who viewed him 'neath her lashes' dusky shade, Whence Eros launched a sudden beamy dart That 'spite chain-mail did reach and pierce his heart.

And in that instant Pertinax grew wise, And trembled 'neath this forest-maiden's eyes; And trembling, knew full well, seek where he might, No eyes might hold for him such magic light, No lips might hold for him such sweet allure, No other hand might his distresses cure, No other voice might so console and cheer, No foot, light-treading, be so sweet to hear As the eyes, lips, hand, voice, foot of her who stood Before him now, cheek flushing 'neath her hood.

All this Sir Pertinax had in his thought, And, wishing much to say to her, said nought, By reason that his tongue was something slow, And of smooth phrases he did little know.

But yet 't is likely, though he nothing said, She, maid-like, what he spake not, guessed or read In his flushed brow, his sudden-gentle eyes, Since in such things all maids are wondrous wise.

Now suddenly the brawny Dwarf did cry: "Beware, my old great-grand-dam creepeth nigh!"

Thus speaking, 'mid the bushes pointed he, Where crook'd old woman crouched beneath a tree Whence, bowed upon a staff, she towards them came, An ancient, wrinkled, ragged, hag-like dame With long, sharp nose that downward curved as though It fain would, beak-like, peck sharp chin below.

Mutt'ring she came and mowing she drew near, And straightway seized the Dwarf by hairy ear: Fast by the ear this ancient dame did tweak him, And cuffed his head and, cuffing, thus did speak him:

"Ha, dolt! Bad elf, and wilt thou slay, indeed, This goodly man did aid me in my need?

For this was one that fought within the gate And from Black Lewin saved thy grannam's pate!

Down, down, fool-lad, upon thy knees, I say, And full forgiveness of this soldier pray."

But Sir Pertinax, perceiving how the old dame did thus tweak and wring at the Dwarf's great, hairy ear even until his eyes watered, interceded, saying:

"Good, ancient soul, humble not the st.u.r.dy, unlovely, mis-shapen, rascally imp for such small matter."

"Nay, but," croaked the old woman, tightening claw-like fingers, "kind master, he would doubtless have slain thee." At this, Sir Pertinax scowled, and would have sworn great oath but, meeting the maid's bright eyes, checked himself, though with much ado:

"Art so sure," he questioned, "so sure man of my inches may be slain by thing so small?"

At this the maid laughed, and the old woman, sighing, loosed the ear she clutched:

"Shew thy strength, Lob," she commanded and, drawing the maiden out of ear-shot, sat down beside her on the sward and fell to eager, whispered talk.

Meantime the Dwarf, having cherished his ear, sulkily though tenderly, seized hold upon his great club with both hairy hands:

And whirling it aloft, with sudden might A fair, young tree in sunder he did smite, That 'neath the blow it swayed and crashing fell.

Quoth Pertinax: "Good Thing, 't is very well.

Par Dex, and by the Holy Rood," quoth he, "'T is just as well that I was not yon tree!"

And whirling his long sword as thus he spoke, Sh.o.r.e through another at a single stroke.

"Here's tree for tree, stout manling!" he did say.

"What other trick canst show to me, I pray?"

Then Lobkyn stooped the broken stump to seize, Bowed brawny back and with a wondrous ease

Up by the roots the rugged bole he tore And tossed it far as it had been a straw.

Sad grew our knight this mighty feat perceiving, Since well he knew't was past his own achieving.

But anon he smiled and clapped the mighty Dwarf on shoulder, saying:

"Greeting to thee, l.u.s.ty Lob, for by Our Holy Lady of Shene Chapel within the Wood, ne'er saw I thine equal, since thou, being man so small, may do what man o' my goodly inches may nowise perform. Thou should'st make a right doughty man-at-arms!"