The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 29

My daughter GILLIAN expostulateth:

GILL: O, father, now You must allow That your herald is rather a bore.

He talks such a lot, And it seems frightful rot--

MYSELF: I hate slang, miss! I told you before!

If my herald says much, Yet he only says such As by heralds was said in those days; Though their trumpets they blew, It is none the less true That they blew them in other folks' praise.

If my herald verbose is And gives us large doses Of high-sounding rodomontade, You'll find they spoke so In the long, long ago, So blame not--O, blame not the bard.

But while we are prating Our herald stands waiting In a perfectly terrible fume, So, my dear, here and now, The poor chap we'll allow His long-winded speech to resume:

"'Tis here declared by order of the Ten, Fair Benedicta's guardians--worthy men!

Thus they decree--ye lovers all rejoice!

She shall by their command, this day make choice Of him--O, him! O blest, thrice blessed he Who must anon her lord and husband be.

'Tis so p.r.o.nounced by her grave guardians ten, By them made law--and they right reverend men!

And this the law--our lady, be it said, This day shall choose the husband she must wed; And he who wins our d.u.c.h.ess for his own Crowned by her love shall mount to ducal throne, So let each knight, by valiant prowess, prove Himself most worthy to our lady's love.

Now make I here an end, and ending, pray Ye quit you all like val'rous knights this day."

Thus spake the Chief Herald and so paced solemnly down the lists while the long clarions filled the air with gallant music. But the lovely Benedicta, throned beneath silken canopy, knit her black brows and clenched slender hands and stamped dainty foot, yet laughed thereafter, whereupon Yolande, leaning to kiss her flushed cheek, questioned her, wondering:

"How say'st thou to this, my loved Benedicta?"

Quoth the d.u.c.h.eSS:

"I say, my sweeting, 'tis quite plain That I must run away again!

Howbeit I care not one rush for their laws! Marry forsooth--a fig! Let them make laws an they will, these reverend, right troublesome grey-beards of mine, they shall never wed me but to such a man as Love shall choose me, and loving him--him only will I wed, be he great or lowly, rich or poor, worthy or unworthy, so I do love him, as is the sweet and wondrous way of love."

"Ah, Benedicta! what is love?"

"A joy that cometh but of itself, all unsought! This wisdom had I of a Fool i' the forest. Go learn you of this same Fool and sigh not, dear wench."

"Nay, but," sighed Yolande, lovely cheeks a-flush, "what of Sir Agramore--hath he not sworn to wed thee?"

"I do fear Sir Agramore no longer, Yolande, since I have found me one may cope with him perchance--even as did a Fool with my Lord Gui of Ells upon a tune. Art sighing again, sweet maid?"

"Nay, indeed--and wherefore should I sigh?"

"At mention of a Fool, belike."

"Ah, no, no, 'twere shame in me, Benedicta! A Fool forsooth!"

"Yet Fool of all fools singular, Yolande. And for all his motley a very man, methinks, and of a proud, high bearing."

Here Yolande's soft cheek grew rosy again:

"Yet is he but motley Fool--and his face--marred hatefully--"

"Hast seen him smile, Yolande, for then--how, dost sigh again, my sweet?"

"Nay, indeed; but talk we of other matters--thy so sudden flight--tell me all that chanced thee, dearest Benedicta."

"Why first--in thine ear, Yolande--my jewel is not--see!"

"How--how, alas! O most sweet lady--hast lost it? Thy royal amulet?"

"Bestowed it, Yolande."

"Benedicta! On whom?"

"A poor soldier. One that saved me i' the forest from many of Sir Agramore's verderers--a man very tall and strong and brave, but dight in ragged cloak and rusty mail--"

"Ragged? A thief--"

"Mayhap!"

"An outlaw--"

"Mayhap!"

"A wolf's-head--a wild man and fierce."

"True he is very wild and very fierce, but very, very gentle--"

"And didst give to such thy jewel? O Benedicta! The Heart-in-heart?"

"Freely--gladly! He begged it of me very humbly and all unknowing what it signified--"

"O my loved Benedicta, alas!"

"O my sweet Yolande, joy!"

"But if he should claim thee, and he so poor and wild and ragged--"

"If he should, Yolande, if he should--

'He that taketh Heart-in-heart, Taketh all and every part.'

O, if he should, Yolande, then I--must fulfil the prophecy. Nay, dear my friend, stare not so great and sadly-eyed, he knoweth not the virtue of the jewel nor have I seen him these many days."

"And must thou sigh therefore, Benedicta?"

But now the trumpets blew a fanfare, and forth rode divers gallant knights, who, spurring rearing steeds, charged amain to gore, to smite and batter each other with right good will while the concourse shouted, caps waved and scarves and ribands fluttered.

But here, methinks, it booteth not to tell Of every fierce encounter that befell; How knight 'gainst knight drove fierce with pointless spear And met with shock that echoed far and near; Or how, though they with blunted swords did smite, Sore battered was full many a luckless wight.

But as the day advanced and sun rose high Full often rose the shout: "A Gui--A Gui!"

For many a proud (though bruised and breathless) lord, Red Gui's tough lance smote reeling on the sward; And ever as these plaudits shook the air, Through vizored casque at Yolande he would stare.

And beholding all the beauty of her he smiled evilly and muttered to himself, glancing from her to certain l.u.s.ty men-at-arms who, lolling 'gainst the barriers, bore at back and breast his badge of the b.l.o.o.d.y hand.