The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 26

"Aye, belike it was, lady, for she bestowed on him a strange jewel, a heart in heart of crystal, that wrought for us in Ca.n.a.lise marvels great as our wondrous Witch herself."

Now here the lovely Melissa's frown vanished, and her red lips curved to sudden smile.

"Belike this was no witch after all!" said she gently.

"Howbeit, lady," quoth Jocelyn slyly, "my poor comrade is surely bewitched by her none the less. She hath wrought on him spell so potent that he groweth mopish and talketh of her eyes, her hair, her sweet and gentle voice, her little foot, forsooth."

"And doth he so, indeed?" said Melissa softly, and, twiddling one of her own pretty feet, she smiled at it. "Doth he sigh o'er much?" she questioned.

"Consumedly! By the minute!"

"Poor soldier!" she murmured.

"Aye, poor rogue!" said Jocelyn; whereupon she frowned again, and turned her back upon him.

"And he is thy comrade."

"Even so--poor knave!"

"And dest.i.tute--even as thou?"

"Aye, a sorry clapper-claw--even as I, lady."

"Then, pray thee, why doth he wear gold chain about his neck?"

"Chain, lady--?"

"Such as only knights do wear!"

"Belike he stole it, lady--"

"Aye--belike he did!" said she, rising; then she sighed and laughed, and so turned and left him.

And in a while Jocelyn rose also, and went on beside the brook; but as he walked deep in thought, there met him Robin, he full of mirth and laughter.

"Oho, brother, good brother!" cried he joyfully, clapping hand on Jocelyn's broad shoulder, "come away, now, and see what the good wind hath blown hither--come thy ways and see!"

So came they where rose a great tree of huge girth, whose gnarled branches spread far and wide, a veryforest of leaves, beneath whose shade were many of the outlaws grouped about one who crouched miserably on his knees, his arms fast bound and a halter about his neck; and, as obedient to Robin's words the fierce company fell back, Jocelyn saw this torn and pallid captive was none other than Ranulph the Hangman.

"Woe's me, my masters!" quoth he 'twixt chattering teeth. "'Tis pity poor Ranulph must die before his time, for ne'er shall be found hangman, headsman or torturer the like o' Ranulph--so dainty i' the nice adjustment o' noose! So clean and delicate wi' the axe! So tender and thoughtful wi'

pincers, thumbscrew, rack or red-hot iron! A hangman so kindly o' soul, so merry o' heart, alack, so free, so gay, so merry--forsooth a very wanton, waggish, jovial bawc.o.c.k-lad--"

"Why, then, good, merry wag," laughed Robin, "now shalt thou cut us an antic aloft in air, shalt caper and dance in noose to our joyance! Up with him, bully lads, and gently, that he may dance the longer!"

But as Ranulph was dragged, shivering, to his feet, Jocelyn stepped forward.

"Stay!" he cried. "Look, now, here's hangman did but hang since hang he must; must he hang therefore?"

ROBIN: Aye, marry, since hanging shall his hanging end!

JOCELYN: But if to hang his duty is, must he for duty hang? Moreover, if ye hang this hangman, unhanged hangmen shall hang still, and since ye may not all hangmen hang, wherefore should this hangman hang?

ROBIN: Brother, an this hangman hang, fewer hangmen shall there be to hang, forsooth.

JOCELYN: Not so, Robin, for hangman dead begetteth hangman new; this hangman hanged, hangman in his place shall hang men after him. Shall this hangman hang for hanging as in duty bound, whiles other hangmen, unhanged, hang still? Here, methinks, is small wisdom, little reason, and less of justice, Robin.

ROBIN: Beshrew me, brother--but here's so much of hanging hanging on hanging plaguy hangman that hang me if I get the hang on't--

JOCELYN: Plainly, Robin--wilt hang a man for doing his duty?

ROBIN: Plainly, brother--no. But--

JOCELYN: Then canst not hang this hangman, since hanging his duty is--

ROBIN: Yet 'tis base, vile duty--

JOCELYN: Yet duty it is--wherefore, an there be any justice in the good greenwood, this hangman unhanged must go.

Now here Robin scowled, and his brawny fellows scowled likewise, and began to mutter and murmur against Jocelyn, who, leaning back to tree, strummed his lute and sang:

"O, Life is sweet, but Life is fleet, O'er quick to go, alack!

And once 'tis spilt, try as thou wilt, Thou canst not call it back!

"So bethink thee, bold Robin, and, as thou 'rt king o' the wild-wood, be thou just king and merciful--"

"Now out upon thee, brother!" cried Robin, forgetting to scowl. "Out on thee with thy honied phrases, thy quipsome lilting rhymes! Here go I to do a thing I ha' no l.u.s.t to do--and all by reason o' thee! Off--off wi' the halter, lads--loose the hangman-claws of him! Hereafter, since he can pay no ransom, he shall be our serf; to have a hangman fetch and carry shall be rare, methinks!"

Quoth JOCELYN: How much should hangman's flesh be worth i' the greenwood, Robin?

"Why, brother, 'tis poor, sad and dismal knave; five gold pieces shall buy him, aye--halter and all, and 'tis fair, good halter, look you!"

"Why, then," said Jocelyn, opening his wallet, "behold the monies, so do I buy him of thee--"

"Now, by Saint Nick!" cried Robin, amazed. "Nay, brother, an thou'lt buy so sorry a thing, give thy money to the merry lads; I'll none on't. And now,"

said he, the money duly paid, "what wilt do wi' thy hangman?"

"Sir Fool," cried Ranulph, falling on his knees at Jocelyn's feet, "fain would I serve thee--e'en to the peril o' the life thou hast saved. Bid me labour for thee and in labour shall be my joy, bid me fight for thee and I will fight whiles life is in me; bid me follow thee and I will follow even unto--"

"Nay, hangman," said Jocelyn, "I bid thee rise and sing for us, and so be gone wheresoever thou wilt."

Then Ranulph arose and glancing round upon the fierce company, from the noose at his feet to Jocelyn's scarred face, he drew a great breath; quoth he:

"Sir Fool, since 'tis thy will fain would I give thee song blithe and joyful since joy is in my heart, but alack, though my songs begin in merry vein they do grow mournful anon; howbeit, for thy joy now will I sing my cheeriest;" whereupon Ranulph brake into song thus:

"I am forsooth a merry soul, Hey deny down, ho ho!

I love a merry song to troll, I love to quaff a cheery bowl, And yet thinks I, alas!

Such things too soon do pa.s.s, And proudest flesh is gra.s.s.

Alack-a-day and woe, Alack it should be so!