The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 36

"Alack--no!" he groaned, regardful of her frown.

"Then basely hast thou tricked me--O cruel!"

"Nay, Melissa--hear me!" he cried, and, forgetful of friar and gaping outlaws, he clasped her fast 'prisoned 'gainst his heart. "Thee do I love, dear maid, 'bove rank, or fame, or riches, or aught this world may offer.

So, an thou wouldst have me ragged and dest.i.tute and outlaw, all this will I be for thy sweet sake since life were nought without thee, O maid I do so love--how say'st thou?"

"I say to thee, Pertinax, that thy so great love hath loosed thy tongue at last, Love hath touched thy lips with eloquence beyond all artifice since now, methinks, it is thy very soul doth speak me. And who shall resist such wooing? Surely not I that do--love thee beyond telling. So take me, my lord, thy right hand in mine, the talisman in thy left--so! Now, my Pertinax, speak thy heart's wish."

"Friar," quoth Sir Pertinax, holding aloft the Crystal Heart, "as her love is mine and mine hers, wed and unite us in our love--by the magic of this jewel I do command thee!"

Here, beholding the talisman, Friar John gasped and stared round-eyed and incredulous.

"By Holy Rood!" he whispered, "'t is indeed the Crystal Heart!"

"And O!" sighed Melissa, "O Friar John, thou dost mind the saying:

"'He that taketh Crystal Heart, Taketh all and every part!'"

"Aye, truly--truly!" nodded the Friar.

"'And by night, or eke by day, The Crystal Heart all must obey!'"

So saying he got him down from the a.s.s and, for all his corpulence, louted full low.

"Sir Knight of Shene," quoth he, "by reason of this jewel potential thou dost bear, now must I perforce obey thy behest and wed thee unto this our gracious lady Benedicta, d.u.c.h.ess of Ambremont, Ca.n.a.lise, Tissingors, Fordyngstoke and divers other towns, villages and--"

"d.u.c.h.ess--a d.u.c.h.ess?" exclaimed Sir Pertinax. "d.u.c.h.ess say'st thou--this, the d.u.c.h.ess Benedicta! O Melissa--thou--thou--a d.u.c.h.ess!"

"Sooth and forsooth," sighed she in pretty mockery, "I do fear I am!"

"Then thou 'rt no humble maid, distressful and forlorn, Melissa?"

"Yea, Pertinax--all this am I indeed unless thou love me, and loving me, wed me, and wedding me love me the better therefor, and loving me ever the better, thou may'st learn a little some day how a woman may love a man."

"Par Dex!" mumbled Sir Pertinax, kissing her rosy finger-tips, "be thou d.u.c.h.ess or witch-maid o' the wood, I do love thee heart and soul, body and mind, now and for ever, Melissa."

Then Friar John, beholding the radiant joy of their faces, reached forth his hands in blessing.

"Kneel ye, my children!" he sighed. "For here methinks is true-love such as brighteneth this world all too seldom. So here, within the forest, the which is surely G.o.d's cathedral, this your love shall be sanctified unto you and the world be the better therefor! Kneel ye, my children!"

And thus, kneeling upon the flower-sprent turf hand in hand and with heads reverently bowed, they were wed, while the six outlaws stared in silent awe and the meek a.s.s cropped the gra.s.s busily.

"O Pertinax," sighed the d.u.c.h.ess as they rose, "so greatly happy am I that I will others shall be happy likewise; let us make this indeed a day of gladness. I pray thee sound the bugle that hangeth within the great oak, yonder."

So Sir Pertinax took the horn and sounded thereon a mighty blast, loud and long and joyous. And presently came the outlaws, thronging in from all directions, until the sunny glade was full of their wild company, while in the green beyond pike-head twinkled and sword-blades glittered; and foremost was Robin with Lobkyn Lollo beside him.

"Robin," said the d.u.c.h.ess, beckoning him near with white, imperious finger, "Robin a' Green, thou whose tongue is quick and ready as thy hand, hast ever been gentle to the weak and helpless as I do know, in especial to two women that sought thy protection of late."

"Why, verily, lady, I mind them well," nodded Robin, "and one was a maid pa.s.sing fair and one an ancient dame exceeding wise. To aid such is ever a man's joy--or should be."

"Knew ye who and what this maid was, Robin?"

"Aye, lady, I knew her then as now for that proud and n.o.ble lady the d.u.c.h.ess Benedicta."

"And yet, Robin, knowing this and having me in thy power didst suffer me to go without let or hindrance or single penny of ransom?"

"My lady d.u.c.h.ess," answered Robin, glancing round upon his wild company, "we be outlaws, 't is true, and rogues--mayhap, yet are we men and thou a lady pa.s.sing fair, wherefore--though I knew thee for the d.u.c.h.ess Benedicta, thou wert safe with us since we war not with women and harm no maids be they of high or low degree!"

"Spoke like a very knight!" exclaimed the d.u.c.h.ess. "How think'st thou, my lord?"

"Par Dex!" quoth Sir Pertinax. "Aye, by Our Lady of Shene Chapel within the Wood I swear it--thou 'rt a man, Robin! So now do I sue pardon of thee for my song o' rogues since no rogue art thou. And thou didst aid and shield her--this my wife that is the very eyes of me! So, by my troth, my good friend art thou henceforth, Rob o' the Green!"

"Nay, my lord," answered Robin slyly, "for I am but Robin, and outlaw, and thou art the Duke!"

"Forsooth--and so I am!" exclaimed Sir Pertinax. "Ha--yet am I still a man, and therefore--"

"Wait, my lord!" said Benedicta. "Robin, give me thy sword!" So she took the weapon and motioning Robin to his knees, set the blade across his shoulder. "Robin a' Green," said she, "since thou art knightly of word and deed, knight shalt thou be in very truth. Sir Robin a' Forest I make thee and warden over this our forest country. Rise up, Sir Robert." Then up sprang Robin, bright-eyed and flushed of cheek.

"Dear my lady," cried he, "since knight hast made me, thy knight will I be henceforth in life or in death--" But here his voice was lost in the joyous acclamations of his followers who shouted amain until the d.u.c.h.ess quelled them with lifted hand.

"Ye men of the wild-wood," said she, looking round upon them gentle-eyed, "all ye that be homeless and desolate, lying without the law, this day joy hath found me, for this is my wedding-morn. And as I am happy I would see ye happy also. Therefore upon this glad day do we make proclamation, my Lord Duke and I--this day we lift from you each and every, the ban of outlawry--free men are ye to go and come as ye list--free men one and all and good citizens henceforth I pray!" Now here was silence awhile, then a hoa.r.s.e murmur, swelling to a jubilant shout until the sunny woodland rang with the joy of it, near and far.

"And now, Sir Robert," laughed the d.u.c.h.ess, "pray you where is this n.o.ble Fool, this gentle Motley, this most rare singer of songs and breaker of lances? Bid him to us."

"Ha--the Fool!" exclaimed Sir Pertinax, starting.

"My lady," answered Robin, "true, he was here, but when I sought him, a while since, there was Sir Palamon's armour he had worn, but himself gone --"

"Gone--gone say'st thou?" cried Sir Pertinax, glancing about. "Then needs must I go seek him--"

"And wherefore, my lord?" cried the d.u.c.h.ess.

"'T is my--my duty, Melissa!" stammered Sir Pertinax. "He is my--my friend and--sworn brother-in-arms!"

"And am I not thy wife, Pertinax?"

"Aye, most dearly loved, and I, thy husband--and yet--needs must I seek this Fool, Melissa."

"O Pertinax--wilt leave me?"

"Leave thee?" groaned Sir Pertinax. "Aye--for a while! Leave thee?

Aye--though it break my heart needs must I! He, my--brother-in-arms. My duty calleth--"

"And what of thy duty to me?"

Now as Sir Pertinax wrung his hands in an agony of indecision, rose a whisper of sweet sound, the murmur of softly-plucked lute-strings, and into the glade, c.o.c.k's-comb aflaunt and a.s.s's ears a-dangle Duke Jocelyn strode and sang as he came a song he had made on a time, a familiar air:

"Good Pertinax, why griev'st thou so?