The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 30

But the fair Yolande heeded him none at all, sitting with eyes a-dream and sighing ever and anon; insomuch that the d.u.c.h.ess, watching her slyly, sighed amain also and presently spake:

"Indeed, and O verily, Yolande, meseemeth we do sigh and for ever sigh, thou and I, like two poor, love-sick maids. How think'st thou?"

"Nay, O Benedicta, hearken! See, who rideth yonder?"

Now even as thus fair Yolanda spoke, A horn's shrill note on all men's hearing broke, And all eyes turned where rode a gallant knight, In burnished armour sumptuously bedight.

His scarlet plumes 'bove gleaming helm a-dance, His bannerole a-flutter from long lance, His gaudy shield with new-popped blazon glowed: Three stooping falcons that on field vert showed; But close-shut vizor hid from all his face As thus he rode at easy, ambling pace.

"Now as I live!" cried Benedicta. "By his device yon should be that foolish knight Sir Palamon of Tong!"

"Aye, truly!" sighed Yolande. "Though he wear no motley hither rideth indeed a very fool. And look, Benedicta--look! O, sure never rode knight in like array--see how the very populace groweth dumb in its amaze!"

For now the crowd in wonderment grew mute, To see this knight before him bare a lute, While blooming roses his great helmet crowned, They wreathed his sword, his mighty lance around.

Thus decked rode he in rosy pageantry, And up the lists he ambled leisurely; Till, all at once, from the astonied crowd There brake a hum that swelled to laughter loud; But on he rode, nor seemed to reck or heed, Till 'neath the balcony he checked his steed.

Then, handing lance unto his tall esquire, He sudden struck sweet chord upon his lyre, And thus, serene, his lute he plucked until The laughter died and all stood hushed and still; Then, hollow in his helm, a clear voice rang, As, through his lowered vizor, thus he sang:

"A gentle knight behold in me, (Unless my blazon lie!) For on my shield behold and see, Upon field vert, gules falcons three, Surcharged with heart ensanguiney, To prove to one and all of ye, A love-lorn knight am I."

But now cometh (and almost in haste) the haughty and right dignified Chief Herald with pursuivants attendant, which latter having trumpeted amain, the Herald challenged thus:

"Messire, by the device upon thy shield, We know my Lord of Tong is in the field; But pray thee now declare, p.r.o.nounce, expound, Why thus ye ride with foolish roses crowned?"

Whereto the Knight maketh answer forthwith:

"If foolish be these flowers I bear, Then fool am I, I trow.

Yet, in my folly, fool doth swear, These flowers to fool an emblem rare Of one, to fool, more sweet, more fair, E'en she that is beyond compare, A flower perchance for fool to wear, Who shall his foolish love declare Till she, mayhap, fool's life may share, Nor shall this fool of love despair, Till foolish hie shall go.

"For life were empty, life were vain, If true love come not nigh, Though honours, fortune, all I gain, Yet poorer I than poor remain, If true-love from me fly; So here I pray, If that thou may, Ah--never pa.s.s me by!"

Here the Chief Herald frowned, puffing his cheeks, and waved his ebony staff authoritatively.

Quoth he: "Enough, Sir Knight! Here is no place for love! For inasmuch as we--"

THE KNIGHT: Gentle Herald, I being here, here is Love, since I am lover, therefore love-full, thus where I go goeth Love--

The Herald: Apprehend me, Sir Knight! For whereas love hath no part in--

The Knight: n.o.ble Herald, Love hath every part within me and without, thus I, from Love apart, have no part, and my love no part apart from my every part; wherefore, for my part, and on my part, ne'er will I with Love part for thy part and this to thee do I impart--

"Sweet Saints aid us!" The Chief Herald clasped his ma.s.sy brow and gazed with eye distraught. "Sir Knight--messire--my very good and n.o.ble Lord of Tong--I grope! Here is that which hath a seeming ... thy so many parts portend somewhat ... and yet ... I excogitate ... yet grope I still ...

impart, part ... thy part and its part ... so many parts ... and roses ...

and songs o' love ... a lute! O, thundering Mars, I ... Sound, trumpets!"

But the d.u.c.h.ess up-starting, silenced Herald and trumpeters with imperious hand.

"Sir Knight of Tong," said she, "'tis told thou'rt of nimble tongue and a maker of songs, so we bid thee sing if thy song be of Love--for Love is a thing little known and seldom understood these days. Here be very many n.o.ble knights wondrous learned in the smiting of buffets, but little else; here be n.o.ble dames very apt at the play of eyes, the twining of fingers, the languishment of sighs, that, seeking True-love, find but its shadow; and here also grey beards that have forgot the very name of Love. So we bid thee sing us of Love--True-love, what it is. Our ears attend thee!"

"Gracious lady," answered the Knight, "gladly do I obey. But Love is mighty and I lowly, and may speak of Love but from mine own humility. And though much might be said of Love since Love's empire is the universe and Love immortal, yet will I strive to portray this mighty thing that is True-love in few, poor words."

Then, plucking sweet melody from his lute, the Knight sang as here followeth:

"What is Love? 'Tis this, I say, Flower that springeth in a day Ne'er to die or fade away Since True-love dieth never.

"Though youth, alas! too soon shall wane, Though friend prove false and effort vain, True-love all changeless doth remain The same to-day and ever."

Now while the clarions rang out proclaiming Sir Palamon's defiance, Benedicta looked on Yolande and Yolande on Benedicta:

"O, wonderful!" cried the d.u.c.h.ess. "My Lord of Tong hath found him manhood and therewith a wisdom beyond most and singeth such love as methought only angels knew and maids might vision in their dreams. Ah, Yolande--that such a love could be ... e'en though he went ragged and poor in all but love...."

"Benedicta," sighed Yolande, hands clasped on swelling bosom, "O Benedicta, here is no foolish Lord of Tong ... and yet ... O, I am mad!"

"Why, then, 'tis sweet madness! So, my Yolande, let us be mad awhile together ... thou--a Fool ... and I--a beggar-rogue!"

"Nay--alas, dear Benedicta! This were shame--"

"And forsooth is it shame doth swell thy heart, Yolande, light the glamour in thine eyes and set thee a-tremble--e'en as I? Nay indeed, thou'rt a-thrill with Folly ... and I, with Roguery. Loved Folly! Sweet Roguery! O Yolande, let us fly from empty state, from this mockery of life and learn the sweet joys of ... of beggary, and, crowned with poverty, clasp life--"

MYSELF, myself interrupting: By the way, my dear, you'll understand, Though this is very fine, Still, her Grace's counsel to Yolande Must not be in your line!

Not that I'd have you wed for wealth, Or many a beggar-man by stealth, But I would have you, if you can--

GILL: Marry some strong, stern, silent man, Named Mark, and with hair slightly gray by the ears!

Now he's just the sort who would bore me to tears.

If I for a husband feel ever inclined, I shall choose quite an ordin'ry husband--the kind With plenty of money and nothing to do, With a nice, comfy house, and a motor or two--

MYSELF: That's all very fine, miss, but what would you do If he, by some ill-chance, quite penniless grew?

GILL: Oh, why then--why, of course, I should get a divorce--

MYSELF: A divorce? Gracious heaven! For goodness' sake--

GILL: 'Twould be the most dignified action to take!

MYSELF: Pray, what in the world of such things do you know?

GILL: Well, father, like you--each day older I grow.

But, instead of discussing poor me, I think you would much nicer be To get on with our Geste.

MYSELF: I obey your behest!

Said Yolande to the d.u.c.h.ess, said she:

"Nay, my Benedicta, these be only dreams, but life is real and dreams a very emptiness!"

"And is 't so, forsooth?" exclaimed the d.u.c.h.ess. "Then am I nought but a d.u.c.h.ess and lonely, thou a maid fearful of her own heart, and yon singer of love only a very futile knight, Sir Palamon of Tong, nothing esteemed by thee for wit or valour and little by his peers--see how his challengers do throng. How think you?" But the lady Yolande sat very still and silent, only she stared, great-eyed, where danced the scarlet plume.

And indeed many and divers were the knights who, beholding the blazon of Tong, sent the bearer their defiance, eager to cope with him; and each and every challenge Sir Palamon accepted by mouth of his tall esquire who (vizor closed, even as his lord's) spake the Chief Herald in loud, merry voice, thus: