The Knight of the Golden Melice Part 27

"And can anything be more graceful than its lovely curves? Doth not Scripture in some manner commend the sagacious reptile, holding him up to us as an example, and bidding us be wise even as serpents? The children of Israel, moreover, when in the wilderness, were cured of their wounds by merely looking at the brazen serpent, thereby typifying the value of wisdom, whereof the snake is an emblem."

"You are more skilled in dialectic than I," said Arundel, laughing, "and were I to hear you with shut eyes, I should think a monk's cowl would fit your head better than a morion."

Sir Christopher stole a sharp, quick glance at his companion at these words, but he could notice nothing in the youth's handsome features save the light-heartedness of a happy spirit. He seemed to think it necessary, however, to explain more perfectly the meaning of what he had been saying.

"Harbor not the thought," he continued, "that I, in any wise, approve the d.a.m.nable doctrines which, by many zealous Protestants, are ascribed to the Catholic Church, viz: that religion consists in the mumbling of unmeaning forms and performance of unnecessary ceremonies; in the gaudy decoration of temples with pictures and statues, which some consider an incitement to devotion; in an entire abandonment of the soul of the layman to the care of the priest, as if the laic himself had no part in working out his salvation. As a good Protestant, I am bound to condemn and anathematize these errors; but, more distinctly, I hold that our Puritan brethren (to come back to the point of departure) are over-strict and unwise in applying a Procrustean measure in their discipline, and, for that reason, if for no other, they cannot be a Church universal. Too stiff, unbending and unforgiving are they to the weaknesses of human nature, and, therefore, (without more,) I predict utter failure to every attempt of theirs to make the natives like themselves. They do forget that milk, not flesh meat, is the food for babes."

"Hold you these Puritans to be, in any true sense, a Church at all?"

inquired Arundel.

Again the Knight looked sharply at the other, and this time he burst into a laugh, wherein, it seemed to the young man, a sneer was mingled with the gaiety.

"That were a dangerous question," he answered, "anywhere else than three days' journey from Winthrop, and to ears less forgiving than mine. But here we are, debating, as thou didst intimate a moment ago, more like two pattering monks than journeying like merry cavaliers.

For my part, the dissensions of Christendom weary me, and I prefer to leave to the holy men vowed to the service of the altar, the labor of unloosing the knots of controversy, rather than perplex my brains with them. Come, Master Arundel, hast never a song wherewith to waken the echoes of the virgin forest and shorten the toils of our way?"

"I esteem not myself a singer, though I can troll a stave or two,"

replied the young man. "But I fear that my minstrelsy would be rude and uncouth to the cultivated ears of one who, like you, Sir Christopher, hath listened to the lays of many lands, and so, refined and perfected his taste."

"It is true," said the Knight, "that I have heard the songs of many countries, warbled by beauty to the accompanying sounds of divers instruments, from Spain to Persia, from the Andalusian guitar to the Turkish lute. But fear me not. I am no supercilious critic. Thy modesty hides merit. I will be bound now that thy performance will exceed thy promise."

"But is there no danger of attracting wandering savages, and so being taken prisoners, or shot with their arrows?"

"The danger of being treated as enemies is less, for what Indian would suspect such of going singing through the woods?"

"Then here is my song," said Arundel, "but I shall look for a like complaisance on thy part."

"Who loves the greenwood cool and sweet, O! let him come with me!

No harsher sound his ears shall greet, Than songs of birds so free; No sight less fair his eyes shall view, Than trees, and ferns, and flowers, Sun, stars, the branches shimmering through, To light the flying hours.

"Ambition hither cannot come, Here Pomp is out of place, And fawning Flattery finds no home With Simper and Grimace, But Nature, in her artless dress, (A greenwood nymph is she,) With eyes so wild and flowing tress, And bare ungartered knee.

"Then come, O, come! O, come with me!

Forgot be toil and care; O! come beneath the greenwood tree, For happiness is there.

The sun shall shine with tempered ray, The moonbeam soft, yet bright; O, come! Joy beckons us away, To revel in delight!"

"Good!" exclaimed the Knight. "Thy voice is as sweet as a sky-lark's, and runs with marvellous cunning through the harmonious changes of the tune. Why, never preface thy song again with an apology, or I shall begin to doubt thy sincerity."

"Wild woods and savage life have not tarnished the courtly polish of Sir Christopher Gardiner," said Arundel. "And now for my guerdon, though in truth I feel shame for the little I have been able to do, in comparison with what I expect."

"By my troth, thou art a master in the science of delicate compliments. There was, I confess, a time when, with youthful vanity, I did esteem myself possessed of some skill, and could step along the gamut with any Don or Signor of them all; but that is long since, and I fear me that the gutturals of Northern Germany have quite driven out of my throat the liquids and vowels of Italy. However, to pleasure me, thou hast sung with infinite discretion and wonderful sweetness, a most delectable song; and now it were boorish not to attempt at least to repay thy musical favor."

So saying, the Knight sung in a manner and with an expression that proved him to be an accomplished musician, and in some contrast with the less artful style of Arundel, the following song:

"On golden Guadalquiver's banks Are tinkling gay guitars, To hail with song and smiling thanks, The soldier from the wars.

"When glowing youth and beauty met, Blush at each other's glance, And, bounding to the castanet, Entwine th' impa.s.sioned dance.

"And purple Xeres sends her wine, To laugh in those dark eyes, Whose flashing orbs the stars outshine, Of Andalusia's skies.

"Red lips repeat the hero's name, White hands are scattering flowers; Honor be his and deathless fame, And grat.i.tude be ours!

"Delightful land of orange blooms, Of chivalry and song, Whose memory the past perfumes-- O! how for thee I long!

"Where'er may stray my wandering feet, I never will forget, Or Guadalquiver's maidens sweet, Or merry castanet.

"When sun, and moon, and stars turn pale, On Nature's funeral pyre, O'er all Spain's glory shall prevail, An eagle soaring higher."

"You have well profited by your opportunities, Sir Christopher," said Arundel, at its conclusion. "By mine honor, such sweet and artful notes never waked the echoes of a mighty forest. I seemed to mingle in the graceful fandango, and to taste the exhilarating Xeres in your song."

"Ah!" replied the Knight, with a half sigh. "It is only a reminiscence of youthful follies. But now it is thy turn again. I warrant me there is store of ravishing melodies in the treasury whence thou didst take thine."

"I dare not," said the young man modestly, "sing after thee. My poor notes would sound like those of the croaking raven, in comparison with the warblings of the yellow minstrel of the Canaries."

"Out with thee, hyperbolical flatterer! Believe me--I set a higher value on thy nature than on my art. Come, pipe up once more, and I will, meanwhile, try to recall another ditty."

"If such is to be my reward, I will not refuse, although I do thereby only expose my own incapacity. Here is a serenade:

"I stand beneath thy window, love, To tell my pleasing pain: O, flowers below, and stars above, Bear to her heart my strain!

Say that the charms of earth and sky Are waiting for her company, And all sweet things my fair invite, To rise and perfect make the night.

"Yet, no! I would no earthly sound Might mar that tranquil sleep, O'er which the angels, standing round, Admiring vigil keep.

With these bright guards I choose to share The watching of my jewel rare; For though their love may be divine, I know it cannot equal mine.

"I see her as she chastely lies Upon the linen white; Was ne'er to man's or angel's eyes So beautiful a sight!

O, mark her bosom's fall and swell, (Profane it were of more to tell.) While hover round her rose-leaf mouth, Sweets that excel the Arabian South.

"Listen! she murmurs in her dreams, And music puts to shame: O, can it be I she breathes, meseems, My too--too happy name!

O cease, bliss-crowded heart, to beat So fast, lest like some India fleet Surcharged with spices, thou outright Founder, o'erfreighted with delight!"

"Excellent," exclaimed the Knight. Never talk to me of the wonderful little birds of the Canaries, unless to call thyself one. I fancy thy verses a tribute to the celestial attractions of Mistress Eveline Dunning."

"And now let me hear thee," said Arundel.

"I did match my first lay," said Sir Christopher, "to thy youthful blood. Now will I give thee one more befitting my years and gravity,"

and adapting the words to a wild foreign air, the Knight sent his rich full voice ringing through the wood.

"Who, on Glory's pinion, Shall mount the upper air, And write his name with sunbeams Sublimely there?

"Blare of trumpets shivering Above the reeling fight, Proves the inhuman challenge-- The warrior's right?

"Son of thoughtful Science, Unthinking of renown, Is thine the name to thunder The ages down?"

"Hist!" he said, interrupting the song. "What is it I see gliding in yonder thicket? Stand fast, Master Arundel, while I go forward to reconnoitre."

The young man would have accompanied him, but this Sir Christopher imperatively forbade. "Thou art under my lead and protection," he said, "and foul shame were it, should I expose thee to a danger which I should face myself alone;" and in spite of his urgency, Arundel was obliged to remain behind.

The Knight was gone, perhaps, a quarter of an hour, and Arundel began to be anxious at the length of his absence, and had stepped forward a few rods to seek him, when he made his appearance.