The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 28

ROBIN: Cry ye mercy, sir, thy two words do yet halloo "Buzz-buzz" in mine ears.

SIR PALAMON: Faith, robber-rogue, since I a tongue possess--

ROBIN: Therein thou art very son o' thy mother (whom St. Anthony cherish!).

SIR PALAMON: With this rare difference, outlaw--for whereas her tongue (honoured relict!) is tipped with gall, wormwood, henbane, hemlock, bitter-aloes and verjuice, and stingeth like the adder, the asp, the toad, the newt, the wasp, and snaky-haired head of Medusa, mine--

ROBIN: Buzzeth, buzz, O buzz!

SIR PALAMON: Mine, thou paltry knave, I say mine--

ROBIN: Buzz--ha--buzz!

JOCELYN: I pray you, Sir Knight, doth the Red Gui tilt at to-morrow's joust?

SIR PALAMON: Base mime, he doth! My Lord Gui of Ells, Lord Seneschal of Raddemore, is myfriend, a very mirror of knightly prowess, the sure might of whose lance none may abide. He is, in very truth, the doughtiest champion in all this fair country, matchless at any and every weapon, a-horse or a-foot, in sooth a very Ajax, Achilles, Hector, Roland and Oliver together and at once, one and indivisible, aye--by Cupid a very paladin!

"'Tis so I've heard," said Jocelyn thoughtfully.

SIR PALAMON: Two knights only there are might cope with him, and one Sir Agramore and one Jocelyn of the Helm, Duke of Brocelaunde. The fame of which last rumour hath so puffed up that thrice my Lord Gui hath sent his cartel of defiance, but the said Duke, intent on paltry battles beyond his marches, hath thrice refused, and wisely--so 'tis said.

"Aye me, messire," quoth Jocelyn, strumming his lute, "and so bloweth the wind. Yet mayhap these twain shall meet one day."

ROBIN: And heaven send me there to see! Now as to thee, Sir Softly Sweet, fair Lord of Tong, thy goodly horse and armour are mine henceforth, first because thy need of them is nothing, secondly because thou art my prisoner--

SIR PALAMON: And thirdly, Sir Riotous Roughness, I do freely on thee bestow them, hide and hair, bolt and rivet.

ROBIN: Now as to thy ransom, Sir Mildly-Meek, at what price dost rate thy value, spiritual and corporeal?

SIR PALAMON: Fellow, though youthful, well-favoured and poet esteemed, I am yet marvellous modest! 'Tis true I am knight of lineage lofty, of patrimony proud, of manors many--

ROBIN: Even as of thy words, Sir Emptiness.

SIR PALAMON: 'Tis also true, thou ignorant atomy, I, like Demosthenes, am blessed with a wonder o' words and glory o' sweet phrase, and yet, and here's the enduring wonder--I am still but man, though man blessed with so much profundity, fecundity, and redundity of thought and expression, and therefore a facile scribe or speaker, able to create, relate, formulate or postulate any truth, axiomatic, sophistry subtle, or, in other words, I can narrate--

ROBIN: Verily Sir Windbag thou dost, to narrate, thyself with wind inflate, and, being thus thyself inflate of air, thou dost thyself deflate of airy sounds which be words o' wind, and windy words is emptiness--thus by thy inflatings and deflatings cometh nought but wind bred o' wind, and nought is nothing, so nought is thy relation or narration; whereof make now a cessation, so will I, in due form, formulate, postulate and deliberate. Thus, with my good rogues' approbation and acclamation, I will of thy just valuation make tabulation, and give demonstration in relation to thy liberation from this thy situation, as namely, viz. and to-wit: First thou art a poet; in this is thy marketable value to us nought, for poets do go empty of aught but thought of sort when wrought, unbought; thus go they short which doth import they're empty, purse and belly.

Second, upon thy testimony thou'rt a man. Go to! Here we be out again, for on the score of manliness thou art not. Yet thou art flesh and blood-- good! for here we deal in such. Not that we yearn for thy flesh and blood, but, being thine, they are to thee dear, perchance, and thou would'st fain keep them alive a little longer; wherefore thou shalt for thy loved flesh and blood pay--purchasing the same of us. And, as flesh varies, so do our prices vary; we do sell a man his own flesh and blood at certain rateable values. Thus unto a hangman we did of late sell a hangman, in fair good halter, and he a hangman brawny, for no more than five gold pieces, the which was cheap, methinks, considering the goodly halter, and he a l.u.s.ty, manly rogue to boot. Now as for thee, thou'rt soft and of a manlihood indifferent, so would I rate thee at one gold piece.

SIR PALAMON: Ignorant grub! Am I less than base hangman--I, a knight--

ROBIN: True, Sir Knight, thou'rt a knight for no reason but that thou art knight born and thus, by nought but being born, hath won to thyself n.o.bility, riches and honours such as no man may win either by courage, skill, or learning, since highborn fool and n.o.ble rogue do rank high 'bove such. So _thou_ art knight, Sir Knight, and for thy knighthood, thy lineage lofty, thy manors many, mulcted thou shalt be in n.o.ble fashion. For thy manhood I a.s.sess thee at one gold piece, but, since thou'rt son o' thy dam (whom the Saints pity!) we do fine thee five thousand gold pieces--thy body ours until the purchase made. Away with him, lads; cherish him kindly, unarm him gently, and set him a-grinding corn till his ransom be paid--away!

Now here was mighty roar of laughter and acclaim from all who heard, only Sir Palamon scowled, and, for once mute and tongue-tied, was led incontinent away to his labours.

"And now, brother," quoth Robin, turning where Jocelyn stood smiling and merry-eyed, "what o' this armour dost seek, and wherefore?"

"Art a lovely robber, Robin," said he; "a very various rogue, yet no rogue born, methinks!"

"I was not always outlaw, brother--howbeit, what would a Fool with horse and knightly arms?"

Now Jocelyn, bending close, whispered somewhatin Robin's ear, whereon he clapped hand to thigh, and laughed and laughed until the air rang again.

"Oho, a j.a.pe--a j.a.pe indeed!" he roared. "O lovely brother, to see proud knight unhorsed by prancing motley Fool! Hey, how my heart doth jump for gladness! An thou wilt a-tilting ride, I will squire thee--a Fool of a knight tended by Rogue of a squire. O, rare--aha! oho! Come thy ways, sweet brother, and let us set about this joyous j.a.pe forthwith!"

And thus it was that, as evening fell, there rode, through bowery bracken and gra.s.sy glade, two hors.e.m.e.n full blithe and merry, and the setting sun flashed back in glory from their glittering armour.

FYTTE 10

How Red Gui sore smitten was in fight By motley Fool in borrowed armour dight.

Now shrill tucket and clarion, trumpet and horn With their cheery summons saluted the morn, Where the sun, in his splendour but newly put on, Still more splendid made pennon and brave gonfalon That with banners and pennoncelles fluttered and flew High o'er tent and pavilion of every hue.

For the lists were placed here, for the tournament set, Where already a bustling concourse was met; Here were poor folk and rich folk, lord, lady and squire, Clad in leather, in cloth and in silken attire; Here folk pushed and folk jostled, as people still do When the sitters be many, the seats scant and few; Here was babble of voices and merry uproar, For while some folk laughed loud, some lost tempers and swore.

Until on a sudden this tumult and riot Was hushed to a murmur that sank into quiet As forth into the lists, stern of air, grave of face, Five fine heralds, with tabard and trumpet, did pace With their Lion-at-arms, or Chief Herald, before; And a look most portentous this Chief Herald wore, And, though portly his shape and a little too round, Sure a haughtier Chief Herald could nowhere be found.

So aloof was his look and so grave his demeanour, Humble folk grew abashed, and mean folk felt the meaner; When once more the loud clarions had all echoes woke This Chief Herald in voice deep and sonorous spoke:

"Good people all, Both great and small, Oyez!

Ye n.o.ble dames of high degree Your pretty ears now lend to me, And much I will declare to ye.

Oyez! Oyez!

Ye dainty lords of might and fame, Ye potent gentles, do the same, Ye puissant peers of n.o.ble name, Now unto ye I do proclaim: Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!"

Here pealed the trumpets, ringing loud and clear, That deafened folk who chanced to stand too near.

In special one--a bent and hag-like dame, Who bent o'er crooked staff as she were lame; Her long, sharp nose--but no, her nose none saw, Since it was hidden 'neath the hood she wore But from this hood she watched with glittering eye Four l.u.s.ty men-at-arms who lolled hard by, Who, 'bove their armour, bore on back and breast A b.l.o.o.d.y hand--Lord Gui's well-hated crest, And who, unwitting of the hooded hag, On sundry matters let their lewd tongues wag:

THE FIRST SOLDIER: Why, she scorned him, 'tis well beknown!

THE SECOND SOLDIER: Aye, and it doth not do to scorn the Red Gui, look 'ee!

THE THIBD SOLDIER: She'll lie snug in his arms yet, her pride humbled, her proud spirit broke, I'll warrant me!

THE FOURTH SOLDIER: She rideth hence in her litter, d'ye see; and with but scant few light-armed knaves attendant.

THE FIRST SOLDIER: Aye, and our signal my lord's hunting-horn thrice winded--

Thus did they talk, with laughter loud and deep, While nearer yet the hooded hag did creep; But:-- Now blew the brazen clarions might and main, Which done, the portly Herald spake again:

"Good people, all ye lords and ladies fair, Oyez!

Now unto ye forthwith I do declare The charms of two fair dames beyond compare.

Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!

The first, our d.u.c.h.ess--Benedicta hight, That late from Tissingors, her town, took flight, To-day, returning here, doth bless our sight, And view the prowess of each valiant knight; Each champ-i-on, in shining armour dight, With blunted weapons gallantly shall fight.

And, watched by eyes of ladies beamy-bright, Inspired and strengthened by this sweet eye-light, Shall quit themselves with very main and might; The second:--in her beauty Beauty's peer, Yolande the Fair, unto our d.u.c.h.ess dear, For whose sweet charms hath splintered many a spear, Throned with our lovely d.u.c.h.ess, sitteth here With her bright charms all gallant hearts to cheer.

Now, ye brave knights, that nought but Cupid fear, To these sweet dames give eye, to me give ear!

Oyez!

'Tis now declared--"