The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 44

"None else, friend Motley."

"Why then, G.o.d keep thee! And now go about thy business."

"Marry, Fool, I am about my business, the which is to find thee. By Saint Nick, there's mighty hue and cry for thee up and down within the greenwood, aye--marry is there, as I'm a tanner tried and true. So needs must thou along wi' me."

"With thee, Tanner? And wherefore?"

"Why, I know not wherefore, Fool, but must along. Here's me and Lob and the potent hag that is Mopsa the Witch, lain a-watching and a-watching ye a-billing--nay, scowl not, friend Fool, on tanner trusty, tried and true. For hark now, here's great stir, clamour and to-do within this forest-country for thee, Fool, the which is strange, seeing thou art but a motley fool. Howbeit there be many great lords and knights from beyond the Southern March a-seeking of thee, Fool."

"Ha!" quoth Jocelyn, frowning. "Envoys from Brocelaunde!"

"Alas, Joconde, and seeking thee!" saith Yolande in troubled voice.

"Moreover," continued Will, "here's our Duke Pertinax and his lady d.u.c.h.ess yearning for thee, here's Robin that is Sir Robert a-clamouring for thee and all his goodly foresters, as myself, a-seeking thee."

"But't is I found thee, Sir Long-legged Fool, I--I!" croaked a voice, and old Mopsa the Witch peered at them from a bush hard by.

"Verily, thou hast found us!" quoth Jocelyn ruefully. "And what now?"

"Oho!" cried the Witch, cracking her finger-bones. "Now go I hot-foot to weave spells and enchantments, aha--oho! Spells that shall prove the false from the true, the gold from the dross. Thou, Sir Fool, art doubting lover, so art thou blind lover! I will resolve thee thy doubts, open thy eyes and show thee great joy or bitter sorrow--oho! Thou, proud lady, hast stooped to love a motley mountebank--nay, flash not thy bright eyes nor toss haughty head at an old woman--but here is solitude with none to mock thy lowly choice or cry thee shame to love a motley Fool, aha! And thou would'st fain prove thy love True-love, says thou? Why, so thou shalt--beyond all doubting now and for ever, aha--oho! Truest of true or falsest of false. Beware. Farewell, and remember:

"Follow Folly and be wise, In such folly wisdom lies, Love's blind, they say; but Love hath eyes, So follow Folly, follow.

Hither-ho, Lob-Lobkyn! Lend thine old granddam thine arm. Come, my pretty bantling, sweet poppet--come and--away!" o spake old Mopsa the Witch, and vanished into the green with Lobkyn, who turned to flourish his club in cheery salutation ere he plunged into the underbrush. Then Jocelyn smiled down on Yolande to find her pale and trembling, so would he have clasped her to his heart, but a hand grasped him and, turning, he beheld the Tanner at his elbow.

"Friend Fool," quoth he, "needs must I take thee to Robin that Sir Robert is, e'en as he did command, so come now thy ways with trusty tanner tried."

"Off, Red-head!" saith Jocelyn, frowning a little. "Away now, lest this my dagger bite thee." Back leapt Will into the stream whence he had come, and there standing, clapped bugle to lip and winded it l.u.s.tily, whereupon came divers fellows running, bow in hand, who beset Jocelyn on every side.

"Now yield thee to Tanner, friend," quoth Will, knee-deep in the stream, "for no mind have I to hurt thee. So away with thy dagger like gentle, kindly Fool, and away with thee to Sir Robin."

Now hereupon, as Jocelyn frowned upon them, Yolande, standing a-tiptoe, kissed his scarred cheek and clasped his dagger-hand in soft fingers.

"Come," she pleaded, "they be a-many, so yield me thy dagger and let us go with them, beloved!" At the whispered word Jocelyn loosed the dagger and, clasping her instead, kissed her full-lipped. Then turned he to his captors.

"I'm with thee, Will, thou--tanner!" quoth he. "And now bring hither the horse for my lady's going."

"Nay," answered Will, scratching red head, "Rob--Sir Robert spake nothing of horse for thee, or lady."

"Nor will I ride, Joconde," she murmured happily, "rather will I trudge beside thee, my hand in thine--thus!"

So, hand in hand, they went close-guarded by their captors yet heeding them not at all, having eyes but for each other. And oft her cheek flushed rosy beneath his look, and oft he thrilled to the warm, close pressure of her fingers; and thus tramped they happy in their captivity.

The sun rose high and higher, but since for them their captors were not, neither was fatigue; and, if the way was rough there was Jocelyn's ready hand, while for him swamps and brooks were a joy since he might bear her in his arms. Thus tramped they by shady dingle and sunny glade, through marshy hollows and over laughing rills, until the men began to mutter their discontent, in especial a swart, hairy wight, and Will, glancing up at the sun, spake:

"Two hours, lads, judge I."

"Nigher three, Tanner, nigher three!" growled the chief mutterer.

"Why so much the better, Rafe, though two was the word. Howbeit we be come far enow, I judge, and 'tis hot I judge, so hey for Robin--and a draught o'

perry!"

"Art thou weary, my Yolande?"

"Nay, is not thy dear arm about me!"

"And--thou dost love me indeed?"

"Indeed, Joconde! Mine is a love that ever groweth--"

A horn's shrill challenge; a sound of voices, and below them opened a great, green hollow, shady with trees beneath whose shade were huts of wattle cunningly wrought, a brook that flowed sparkling, and beyond caves hollowed in the steepy bank.

"How now, Tanner Will," questioned Jocelyn, "hast brought us to the outlaw's refuge?"

"Not so, good friend-Fool, not outlaws, foresters we of Duke Pertinax, and yonder, look 'ee, cometh Rob--Sir Robert to greet ye!" And the Tanner pointed where one came running, a man long of leg, long of arm and very bright of eye, a goodly man clad in hood and jerkin of neat's leather as aforetime, only now his bugle swung from baldrick of gold and silver and in his hood was brooched a long scarlet feather.

"What brother!" cried he joyously. "By saint Nicholas,'tis sweet to see thee again, thou lovely Fool!" And he clasped Jocelyn in brotherly embrace, which done, he stood off and shook doleful head. "Alas, brother!" quoth he.

"Alas! my prisoner art thou this day, wherefor I grieve, and wherefor I know not save that it is by my lady Benedicta's strict command and her I must obey." And now, turning to Yolande, he bared his head, louting full low. "Lady," quoth he, "by thy rare and so great beauty I do know thee for Yolande the Fair, so do we of the wild give thee humble greeting. Here may'st thou rest awhile ere we bring thee to Ca.n.a.lise."

"But, messire," answered Yolande, clasping Jocelyn's hand, "no mind have I to go to Ca.n.a.lise."

"Then alack for me, fair lady, for needs must I carry thee there within the hour along of my motley brother. Meanwhile here within yon bower thou shalt find cushions to thy repose, and all things to thy comfort and refreshment."

"O Sir Robert! O for a comb!" she sighed.

"Expectant it waiteth thee, lady, together with water cool, sweet-perfumed essences, unguents and other nice, lady-like toys. Moreover, there be mirrors two of Venice and in pretty coffer--" But Yolande had vanished.

Hereupon Robin led the way into a cool, arras-hung cave where was table set out with divers comfortable things both eatable and drinkable.

Quoth Jocelyn, hunger and thirst appeased: "And now good Robin, what do these envoys from Brocelaunde? Why am I thy prisoner and wherefore must I to Ca.n.a.lise?"

"Ha!" saith Robin, c.o.c.king merry eye, "and thy name is Joconde, the which is an excellent name, brother, and suiteth thee well, and yet--hum!

Howbeit, friend, remember Robin loved thee for the Fool he found thee, that same Fool foolish enow to spare a rogue his life. Dost mind my Song o' Rogues? A good song, methinks, tripping merrily o' the tongue:

"'I'll sing a song Not over long, A song o' roguery, For I'm a rogue, And thou'rt a rogue, And so, in faith is he.'

I mind thy fierce, hawk-nosed gossip in rusty jack and ragged cloak, his curses! Troth brother,'tis a world of change methinks, this same fierce, cursing, hook-nose rogue a n.o.ble knight and to-day my lord Duke! I, that was poor outlaw, knight-at-arms and lord warden, and thou--a motley Fool still--and my prisoner. How say'st thou, brother?"

"Why I say, Robin, that my three questions wait thy answers!"

"Verily, brother, and for this reason. I am a knight and n.o.ble, and so being have learned me policy, and my policy is, when unable to give answer direct to question direct, to question myself direct thus directing question to questions other or to talk of matters of interest universal, so do I of thyself and myself speak. And talking of myself I have on myself, of myself, of myself made a song, and these the words, hark 'ee:

"Now Rob that was Robin Sir Robert is hight Though Rob oft did rob when outlaw, Since outlaw now in law is dubbed a good knight, Robin's robbing is done, Rob robbeth no more.

Fair words brother, I think, and yet a little sad. 'But,' says you in vasty amaze, 'my very n.o.ble and right potent Sir Robert,' says you, 'if thou art indeed n.o.ble knight, wherefore go ye devoid of mail, surcoat, cyclas, crested helm, banderol, lance, shield and the like pomps and gauds?'

'Brother,' says I, 'habit is habit and habit sticketh habitual, and my habit is to go habited as suiteth my habit, suiting habit o' body to habit o' mind.' Thus I, though Sir Robert, am Robin still, and go in soft leather 'stead of chafing steel, and my rogues, loving Robin, love Sir Robert the better therefor, as sayeth my song in fashion apt and pertinent:

"Since habit is habit, my habit hath been To wear habit habitually comely--