The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 8

With locks be-curled and clad in pompous splendour; His mantle of rich velvet loose did flow, As if his gorgeous habit he would show; A jewelled bonnet on his curls he bore, With nodding feather bravely decked before; He was a lover very _point de vice_, And all about him, save his voice, was nice.

Thus loudly sang, with lungs both sound and strong This worthy knight, Sir Palamon of Tong.

"O must I groan And make my moan And live alone alway?

Yea, I must sigh And droop and die, If she reply, nay, nay!

"I groan for thee, I moan for thee, Alone for thee I pine.

All's ill for me Until for me She will for me be mine."

But now, beholding Yolande amid her flowers, herself as sweet and fresh as they, he made an end of his singing and betook him, straightway, to amorous looks and deep-fetched sighs together with many supple bendings of the back, elegant posturings and mot.i.tions of slim legs, fannings and flauntings of be-feathered cap, and the like gallantries; and thereafter fell to his wooing on this fashion:

"Lady, O lady of lovely ladies most loved! Fair lady of hearts, sweet dame of tenderness, tender me thine ears, suffer one, hath sighed and suffered for sake of thee, to sightful sue. Lovely thou art and therefore to be loved, and day and night thou and Love the sum of my excogitations art, wherefore I, with loving art, am hither come to woo thee, since, lady, I do love thee."

"Alack, Sir Palamon!" she sighed, "and is it so?"

"Alack!" he answered, "so it is. Yest're'en I did proclaim thee fairer than all fair ladies; to-day thou art yet fairer, thus this day thou art fairer than thyself; the which, though a paradox, is yet wittily true and truly witty, methinks. But as for me--for me, alas for me! I am forsooth the very slave of love, fettered fast by Dan Cupid, a slave grievous and woeful, yet, being thy slave, joying in my slavery and happy in my grievous woe.

Thus it is I groan and moan, lady; I pine, repine and pine again most consumedly. I sleep little and eat less, I am, in fine and in all ways, 'haviours, manners, customs, feints and fashions soever, thy lover manifest, confessed, subject, abject, in season and out of season, yearly, monthly, daily, hourly, and by the minute. Moreover--"

"Beseech thee!" she cried, "Oh, beseech thee, take thy breath."

"Gramercy, 'tis done, lady, 'tis done, and now forthwith resolved am I to sing thee--"

"Nay, I pray you, sir, sing no more, but resolve me this mystery. What is love?"

"Love, lady? Verily that will I in truth!" And herewith Sir Palamon fell to an att.i.tude of thought with eyes ecstatic, with knitted brows and sage nodding of the head. "Love, my lady--ha! Love, lady is--hum! Love, then, perceive me, is of its nature elemental, being of the elements, as 'twere, composed and composite, as water, air and fire. For, remark me, there is no love but begetteth first water, which is tears; air, which is sighings and groanings; and fire, which is heart-burnings and the like. Thus is love a pa.s.sion elemental. But yet, and heed me, lady, love is also metaphysical, being a mot.i.tion of the soul and e'en the spirit, and being of the spirit 'tis ghostly, and being ghostly 'tis--ha! Who comes. .h.i.ther to shatter the placid mirror of my thoughts?"

So saying, the n.o.ble knight of Tong turned to behold one who strode towards them in haste, a tall man this whose black brows scowled fierce upon the day, and who spurned the tender flowers with foot ungentle as he came.

A tall, broad-shouldered, haughty lord was he, With chin full square and eyes of mastery, At sight of whom, Yolanda's laughter failed, And in her cheek the rosy colour paled.

Quoth he: "Sir Palamon, now of thy grace, And of thy courteous friendship yield me place, To this fair lady I a word would say.

Thus do I for thy courteous-absence pray, I am thy friend, Sir Knight, as thou dost know, But--"

"My lord," quoth Sir Palamon, "I go-- Friendship methinks is a most holy bond, A bond I hold all binding bonds beyond, And thou 'rt a friend right potent, my lord Gui, So to thy will I willingly comply.

Thus, since thy friendship I hold pa.s.sing dear, Thou need but ask--and lo! I am not here."

Thus having said, low bowed this courtly knight, Then turned about and hasted out of sight.

"And now, my lady," quoth Sir Gui, frowning upon her loveliness, "and now having discharged yon gaudy wind-bag, what of this letter I did receive but now--behold it!" and speaking, he s.n.a.t.c.hed a crumpled missive from his bosom. "Behold it, I say!"

"Indeed, my lord, I do," she answered, proud and disdainful; "it is, methinks, my answer to thy loathed suit--"

"Loathed!" he cried, and caught her slender wrist, And held it so, crushed in his cruel fist; But proud she faced him, shapely head raised high.

"Most loathed, my lord!" she, scornful, made reply.

"For rather than I'd wed myself with thee, The wife of poorest, humblest slave I'd be, Or sorriest fool that tramps the dusty way--"

"Ha! Dare thou scorn me so?" Sir Gui did say, "Then I by force--by force will sudden take thee, And slave of love, my very slave I 'll make thee--"

Out from the leaves Duke Joc'lyn thrust his head, "O fie! Thou naughty, knavish knight!" he said.

"O tush! O tush! O tush again--go to!

'T is windy, whining, wanton way to woo.

What tushful talk is this of 'force' and 'slaves', Thou naughty, knavish, knightly knave of knaves?

Unhand the maid--loose thy offensive paw!"

Round sprang Sir Gui, and, all astonished, saw A long-legged jester who behind him stood With head out-thrust, grim-smiling 'neath his hood.

"Plague take thee, Fool! Out o' my sight!" growled he, "Or cropped thine ugly nose and ears shall be.

Begone, base rogue! Haste, dog, and get thee hence, Thy folly pleadeth this thy Fool's offence--

Yet go, or of thy motley shalt be stripped, And from the town I 'll have thee shrewdly whipped, For Lord of Ells and Raddemore am I, Though folk, I've heard, do call me 'Red Sir Gui,'

Since blood is red and--I am Gui the Red."

"Red Gui?" quoth Joc'lyn. "Art thou Gui the dread-- Red Gui--in faith? Of him Dame Rumour saith, His ways be vile but viler still--his breath.

Now though a life vile lived is thing most ill, Yet some do think a vile breath viler still."

Swift, swift as lightning from a summer sky, Out flashed the vengeful dagger of Sir Gui, And darting with a deadly stroke and fierce, Did Joc'lyn's motley habit rend and pierce, Whereat with fearful cry up sprang Yolande, But this strange jester did grim-smiling stand.

Quoth he: "Messire, a fool in very truth, The fool of foolish fools he'd be, in sooth, Who'd play a quip or so, my lord, with thee Unless in triple armour dight were he; And so it is this jester doth not fail With such as thou to jest in shirt of mail.

Now since my heart thy foolish point hath missed Thy dagger--thus I answer--with my fist!"

Then swift he leapt and, even as he spoke, He fetched the knight so fierce and fell a stroke That, reeling, on the greensward sank Sir Gui, And stared, wide-eyed, unseeing, at the sky.

Right firmly then upon his knightly breast Duke Joc'lyn's worn and dusty shoe did rest, And while Yolande stood white and dumb with fear, Thus sang the Duke full blithely and full clear:

"Dirt thou art since thou art dust, And shalt to dust return; Meanwhile Folly as he l.u.s.t Now thy base dust doth spurn.

"Yea, lord, though thy rank be high, One day, since e'en lords must die, Under all men's feet thou'lt lie."

Now, fierce, Sir Gui did curse the Fool amain, And, cursing, strove his dagger to regain.

But Joc'lyn stooped, in mighty arms he swung him, And down into the lily-pool he flung him.

With splash resounding fell the n.o.ble knight, Then gurgling rose in damp and sorry plight, Whiles Joc'lyn, leaning o'er the marble rim, With lifted finger thus admonished him:

"Red Gui, Dread Gui, Lest a dead Gui, Gui, I make of thee, Understand, Gui, Fair Yolande, Gui, Humbly wooed must be.

"So, Gui, Know, Gui, Ere thou go, Gui, Gui they call the Red; And thou'lt woo, Gui, Humbly sue, Gui, Lest Love strike thee dead.

"Now while thou flound'rest in yon pool, Learn thou this wisdom of a Fool; Cold water oft can pa.s.sion cool And fiery ardours slake; Thus, sir, since water quencheth fire, So let it soothe away thine ire.

Then--go seek thee garments drier Lest a rheum thou take."

Sir Gui did gasp, and gasping, strove to curse, Whereat he, gasping, did but gasp the worse, Till, finding he could gasp, but nothing say, He shook clenched fist and, gasping, strode away.

Then Joc'lyn turned and thus beheld Yolande, Who trembling all and pale of cheek did stand.

"O Fool!" she sighed. "Poor Fool, what hast thou done?"

Quoth he: "Yolande, to woo thee I've begun, I better might have wooed, it is most true, If other wooers had not wooed thee too."

"Nay, Fool!" she whispered. "O beware--beware!

Death--death for thee is in the very air.

From Ca.n.a.lise, in haste, I bid thee fly, For 'vengeful lord and cruel is Sir Gui.

Take now this gold to aid thee on thy way, And for thy life upon my knees I'll pray, And with the holy angels intercede To comfort thee and aid thee in thy need.

And so--farewell! "Thus, speaking, turned Yolande.

But Joc'lyn stayed her there with gentle hand, Whereat she viewed him o'er in mute surprise, To see the radiant gladness of his eyes.

Quoth he: "Yolande, since thou wilt pray for me, Of thy sweet prayers fain would I worthy be.

This I do know--let Death come when he may, The love I bear thee shall live on alway.