CHAPTER IX
--------In the midst was seen A lady of a more majestic mien, By stature and by beauty mark'd their sovereign Queen. <*> <*> <*> <*> <*> <*> And as in beauty she surpass'd the choir, So nobler than the rest was her attire; A crown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow, Plain without pomp, and rich without a show; A branch of Agnus Castus in her hand, She bore aloft her symbol of command.
_The Flower and the Leaf_.
William de Wyvil and Stephen de Martival, the marshals of the field, were the first to offer their congratulations to the victor, praying him, at the same time, to suffer his helmet to be unlaced, or, at least, that he would raise his visor ere they conducted him to receive the prize of the day's tourney from the hands of Prince John. The Disinherited Knight, with all knightly courtesy, declined their request, alleging, that he could not at this time suffer his face to be seen, for reasons which he had assigned to the heralds when he entered the lists. The marshals were perfectly satisfied by this reply; for amidst the frequent and capricious vows by which knights were accustomed to bind themselves in the days of chivalry, there were none more common than those by which they engaged to remain incognito for a certain space, or until some particular adventure was achieved. The marshals, therefore, pressed no farther into the mystery of the Disinherited Knight, but, announcing to Prince John the conqueror's desire to remain unknown, they requested permission to bring him before his Grace, in order that he might receive the reward of his valour.
John's curiosity was excited by the mystery observed by the stranger; and, being already displeased with the issue of the tournament, in which the challengers whom he favoured had been successively defeated by one knight, he answered haughtily to the marshals, ``By the light of Our Lady's brow, this same knight hath been disinherited as well of his courtesy as of his lands, since he desires to appear before us without uncovering his face.---Wot ye, my lords,'' be said, turning round to his train, ``who this gallant can be, that bears himself thus proudly?''
``I cannot guess,'' answered De Bracy, ``nor did I think there had been within the four seas that girth Britain a champion that could bear down these five knights in one day's jousting. By my faith, I shall never forget the force with which he shocked De Vipont. The poor Hospitaller was hurled from his saddle like a stone from a sling.''
``Boast not of that,'' said a Knight of St John, who was present; ``your Temple champion had no better luck. I saw your brave lance, Bois-Guilbert, roll thrice over, grasping his hands full of sand at every turn.
De Bracy, being attached to the Templars, would have replied, but was prevented by Prince John. ``Silence, sirs!'' he said; ``what unprofitable debate have we here?''
``The victor,'' said De Wyvil, ``still waits the pleasure of your highness.''
``It is our pleasure,'' answered John, ``that he do so wait until we learn whether there is not some one who can at least guess at his name and quality. Should he remain there till night-fall, he has had work enough to keep him warm.''
``Your Grace,'' said Waldemar Fitzurse, ``will do less than due honour to the victor, if you compel him to wait till we tell your highness that which we cannot know; at least I can form no guess--- unless he be one of the good lances who accompanied King Richard to Palestine, and who are now straggling homeward from the Holy Land.''
``It may be the Earl of Salisbury,'' said De Bracy; ``he is about the same pitch.''
``Sir Thomas de Multon, the Knight of Gilsland,
rather,'' said Fitzurse; ``Salisbury is bigger
in the bones.'' A whisper arose among the train,
but by whom first suggested could not be ascertained.
``It might be the King---it might be
Richard C
``Over God's forbode!'' said Prince John, involuntarily
turning at the same time as pale as death,
and shrinking as if blighted by a flash of lightning;
``Waldemar!---De Bracy! brave knights and gentlemen,
remember your promises, and stand truly
by me!''
``Here is no danger impending,'' said Waldemar
Fitzurse; ``are you so little acquainted with the
gigantic limbs of your father's son, as to think they
can be held within the circumference of yonder suit
of armour?---De Wyvil and Martival, you will best
serve the Prince by bringing forward the victor to
the throne, and ending an error that has conjured
all the blood from his cheeks.---Look at him more
closely,'' he continued, ``your highness will see that
he wants three inches of King Richard's height,
and twice as much of his shoulder-breadth. The
very horse he backs, could not have carried the
ponderous weight of King Richard through a single
course.''
While he was yet speaking, the marshals brought
forward the Disinherited Knight to the foot of a
wooden flight of steps, which formed the ascent
from the lists to Prince John's throne. Still discomposed
with the idea that his brother, so much
injured, and to whom he was so much indebted,
had suddenly arrived in his native kingdom, even
the distinctions pointed out by Fitzurse did not altogether
remove the Prince's apprehensions; and
while, with a short and embarrassed eulogy upon
his valour, he caused to be delivered to him the
war-horse assigned as the prize, he trembled lest
from the barred visor of the mailed form before
him, an answer might be returned, in the deep and
awful accents of Richard the Lion-hearted.
But the Disinherited Knight spoke not a word
in reply to the compliment of the Prince, which
he only acknowledged with a profound obeisance.
The horse was led into the lists by two grooms
richly dressed, the animal itself being fully accoutred
with the richest war-furniture; which, however,
scarcely added to the value of the noble creature
in the eyes of those who were judges. Laying
one hand upon the pommel of the saddle, the Disinherited
Knight vaulted at once upon the back of
the steed without making use of the stirrup, and,
brandishing aloft his lance, rode twice around the
lists, exhibiting the points and paces of the horse
with the skill of a perfect horseman
The appearance of vanity, which might otherwise
have been attributed to this display, was removed
by the propriety shown in exhibiting to the
best advantage the princely reward with which he
had been just honoured, and the Knight was again
greeted by the acclamations of all present.
In the meanwhile, the bustling Prior of Jorvaulx
had reminded Prince John, in a whisper, that the
victor must now display his good judgment, instead
of his valour, by selecting from among the beauties
who graced the galleries a lady, who should fill the
throne of the Queen of Beauty and of Love, and
deliver the prize of the tourney upon the ensuing
day. The Prince accordingly made a sign with
his truncheon, as the Knight passed him in his second
career around the lists. The Knight turned
towards the throne, and, sinking his lance, until the
point was within a foot of the ground, remained
motionless, as if expecting John's commands; while
all admired the sudden dexterity with which he instantly
reduced his fiery steed from a state of violent
emotion and high excitation to the stillness of
an equestrian statue,
``Sir Disinherited Knight,'' said Prince John,
``since that is the only title by which we can address
you, it is now your duty, as well as privilege,
to name the fair lady, who, as Queen of Honour
and of Love, is to preside over next day's festival.
If, as a stranger in our land, you should require
the aid of other judgment to guide your own, we
can only say that Alicia, the daughter of our gallant
knight Waldemar Fitzurse, has at our court
been long held the first in beauty as in place. Nevertheless,
it is your undoubted prerogative to confer
on whom you please this crown, by the delivery
of which to the lady of your choice, the election of
to-morrow's Queen will be formal and complete.---
Raise your lance.''
The Knight obeyed; and Prince John placed
upon its point a coronet of green satin, having
around its edge a circlet of gold, the upper edge of
which was relieved by arrow-points and hearts placed
interchangeably, like the strawberry leaves and
balls upon a ducal crown.
In the broad hint which he dropped respecting
the daughter of Waldemar Fitzurse, John had
more than one motive, each the offspring of a mind,
which was a strange mixture of carelessness and
presumption with low artifice and cunning. He
wished to banish from the minds of the chivalry
around him his own indecent and unacceptable jest
respecting the Jewess Rebecca; he was desirous of
conciliating Alicia's father Waldemar, of whom he
stood in awe, and who had more than once shown
himself dissatisfied during the course of the day's
proceedings. He had also a wish to establish himself
in the good graces of the lady; for John was
at least as licentious in his pleasures as profligate in
his ambition. But besides all these reasons, he
was desirous to raise up against the Disinherited
Knight (towards whom he already entertained a
strong dislike) a powerful enemy in the person of
Waldemar Fitzurse, who was likely, he thought,
highly to resent the injury done to his daughter,
in case, as was not unlikely, the victor should make
another choice.
And so indeed it proved. For the Disinherited
Knight passed the gallery close to that of the
Prince, in which the Lady Alicia was seated in the
full pride of triumphant beauty, and, pacing forwards
as slowly as he had hitherto rode swiftly
around the lists, he seemed to exercise his right of
examining the numerous fair faces which adorned
that splendid circle.
It was worth while to see the different conduct
of the beauties who underwent this examination,
during the time it was proceeding. Some blushed,
some assumed an air of pride and dignity, some
looked straight forward, and essayed to seem utterly
unconscious of what was going on, some drew
back in alarm, which was perhaps affected, some
endeavoured to forbear smiling, and there were two
or three who laughed outright. There were also
some who dropped their veils over their charms;
but, as the Wardour Manuscript says these were
fair ones of ten years standing, it may be supposed
that, having had their full share of such vanities,
they were willing to withdraw their claim, in order
to give a fair chance to the rising beauties of the
age.
At length the champion paused beneath the balcony
in which the Lady Rowena was placed, and
the expectation of the spectators was excited to the
utmost.
It must be owned, that if an interest displayed
in his success could have bribed the Disinherited
Knight, the part of the lists before which he paused
had merited his predilection. Cedric the Saxon,
overjoyed at the discomfiture of the Templar,
and still more so at the, miscarriage of his two malevolent
neighbours, Front-de-B
``Father Abraham!'' said Isaac of York, when
the first course was run betwixt the Templar and
the Disinherited Knight, ``how fiercely that Gentile
rides! Ah, the good horse that was brought
all the long way from Barbary, he takes no more
care of him than if he were a wild ass's colt---and
the noble armour, that was worth so many zecchins
to Joseph Pareira, the armourer of Milan, besides
seventy in the hundred of profits, he cares for it as
little as if he had found it in the highways!''
``If he risks his own person and limbs, father,''
said Rebecca, ``in doing such a dreadful battle, he
can scarce be expected to spare his horse and armour.''
``Child!'' replied Isaac, somewhat heated, ``thou
knowest not what thou speakest---His neck and
limbs are his own, but his horse and armour belong
to---Holy Jacob! what was I about to say!---
Nevertheless, it is a good youth---See, Rebecca!
see, he is again about to go up to battle against the
Philistine---Pray, child---pray for the safety of the
good youth,---and of the speedy horse, and the rich
armour.---God of my fathers!'' he again exclaimed,
``he hath conquered, and the uncircumcised Philistine
hath fallen before his lance,---even as Og the
King of Bashan, and Sihon, King of the Amorites,
fell before the sword of our fathers!---Surely he
shall take their gold and their silver, and their war-horses,
and their armour of brass and of steel, for
a prey and for a spoil.''
The same anxiety did the worthy Jew display
during every course that was run, seldom failing to
hazard a hasty calculation concerning the value of
the horse and armour which was forfeited to the
champion upon each new success. There had been
therefore no small interest taken in the success of
the Disinherited Knight, by those who occupied the
part of the lists before which he now paused.
Whether from indecision, or some other motive
of hesitation, the champion of the day remained
stationary for more than a minute, while the eyes
of the silent audience were riveted upon his motions;
and then, gradually and gracefully sinking
the point of his lance, he deposited the coronet
Which it supported at the feet of the fair Rowena.
The trumpets instantly sounded, while the heralds
proclaimed the Lady Rowena the Queen of Beauty
and of Love for the ensuing day, menacing with
suitable penalties those who should be disobedient
to her authority. They then repeated their cry of
Largesse, to which Cedric, in the height of his joy,
replied by an ample donative, and to which Athelstane,
though less promptly, added one equally
large.
There was some murmuring among the damsels
of Norman descent, who were as much unused to
see the preference given to a Saxon beauty, as the
Norman nobles were to sustain defeat in the games
of chivalry which they themselves had introduced.
But these sounds of disaffection were drowned by
the popular shout of ``Long live the Lady Rowena,
the chosen and lawful Queen of Love and of Beauty!''
To which many in the lower area added,
``Long live the Saxon Princess! long live the race
of the immortal Alfred!''
However unacceptable these sounds might be to
Prince John, and to those around him, he saw himself
nevertheless obliged to confirm the nomination
of the victor, and accordingly calling to horse, he
left his throne; and mounting his jennet, accompanied
by his train, he again entered the lists.
The Prince paused a moment beneath the gallery
of the Lady Alicia, to whom he paid his compliments,
observing, at the same time, to those around
him---``By my halidome, sirs! if the Knight's feats
in arms have shown that he hath limbs and sinews,
his choice hath no less proved that his eyes are none
of the clearest.''
It was on this occasion, as during his whole life,
John's misfortune, not perfectly to understand the
characters of those whom he wished to conciliate.
Waldemar Fitzurse was rather offended than pleased
at the Prince stating thus broadly an opinion,
that his daughter had been slighted.
``I know no right of chivalry,'' he said, ``more
precious or inalienable than that of each free knight
to choose his lady-love by his own judgment. My
daughter courts distinction from no one; and in her
own character, and in her own sphere, will never
fail to receive the full proportion of that which is
her due.''
Prince John replied not; but, spurring his horse,
as if to give vent to his vexation, he made the animal
bound forward to the gallery where Rowena
was seated, with the crown still at her feet.
``Assume,'' he said, ``fair lady, the mark of your
sovereignty, to which none vows homage more sincerely
than ourself, John of Anjou; and if it please
you to-day, with your noble sire and friends, to
grace our banquet in the Castle of Ashby, we shall
learn to know the empress to whose service we devote
to-morrow.''
Rowena remained silent, and Cedric answered
for her in his native Saxon.
``The Lady Rowena,'' he said, ``possesses not
the language in which to reply to your courtesy, or
to sustain her part in your festival. I also, and the
noble Athelstane of Coningsburgh, speak only the
language, and practise only the manners, of our
fathers. We therefore decline with thanks your
Highness's courteous invitation to the banquet.
To-morrow, the Lady Rowena will take upon her
the state to which she has been called by the free
election of the victor Knight, confirmed by the acclamations
of the people.''
So saying, he lifted the coronet, and placed it
upon Rowena's head, in token of her acceptance of
the temporary authority assigned to her.
``What says he?'' said Prince John, affecting
not to understand the Saxon language, in which,
however, he was well skilled. The purport of Cedric's
speech was repeated to him in French. ``It
is well,'' he said; ``to-morrow we will ourself conduct
this mute sovereign to her seat of dignity.--
You, at least, Sir Knight,'' he added, turning to the
victor, who had remained near the gallery, ``will
this day share our banquet?''
The Knight, speaking for the first time, in a
low and hurried voice, excused himself by pleading
fatigue, and the necessity of preparing for to-morrow's
encounter.
``It is well,'' said Prince John, haughtily; ``although
unused to such refusals, we will endeavour
to digest our banquet as we may, though ungraced
by the most successful in arms, and his elected
Queen of Beauty.''
So saying, he prepared to leave the lists with his
glittering train, and his turning his steed for that
purpose, was the signal for the breaking up and
dispersion of the spectators.
Yet, with the vindictive memory proper to offended
pride, especially when combined with conscious
want of desert, John had hardly proceeded
three paces, ere again, turning around, he fixed an
eye of stern resentment upon the yeoman who had
displeased him in the early part of the day, and
issued his commands to the men-at-arms who stood
near---``On your life, suffer not that fellow to
escape.''
The yeoman stood the angry glance of the Prince
with the same unvaried steadiness which had marked
his former deportment, saying, with a smile, ``I
have no intention to leave Ashby until the day after
to-morrow---I must see how Staffordshire and
Leicestershire can draw their bows---the forests of
Needwood and Charnwood must rear good archers.''
``l,'' said Prince John to his attendants, but not
in direct reply,---``I will see how he can draw his
own; and woe betide him unless his skill should
prove some apology for his insolence!''
``It is full time,'' said De Bracy, ``that the _outrecuidance_*
* Presumption, insolence.
of these peasants should be restrained by
some striking example.''
Waldemar Fitzurse, who probably thought his
patron was not taking the readiest road to popularity,
shrugged up his shoulders and was silent.
Prince John resumed his retreat from the lists, and
the dispersion of the multitude became general.
In various routes, according to the different quarters
from which they came, and in groups of various
numbers, the spectators were seen retiring over the
plain. By far the most numerous part streamed
towards the town of Ashby, where many of the
distinguished persons were lodged in the castle, and
where others found accommodation in the town
itself. Among these were most of the knights who
had already appeared in the tournament, or who
proposed to fight there the ensuing day, and who,
as they rode slowly along, talking over the events
of the day, were greeted with loud shouts by the
populace. The same acclamations were bestowed
upon Prince John, although he was indebted for
them rather to the splendour of his appearance and
train, than to the popularity of his character.
A more sincere and more general, as well as a
better-merited acclamation, attended the victor of
the day, until, anxious to withdraw himself from
popular notice, he accepted the accommodation of
one of those pavilions pitched at the extremities of
the lists, the use of which was courteously tendered
him by the marshals of the field. On his retiring
to his tent, many who had lingered in the lists, to
look upon and form conjectures concerning him,
also dispersed.
The signs and sounds of a tumultuous concourse
of men lately crowded together in one place, and
agitated by the same passing events, were now exchanged
for the distant hum of voices of different
groups retreating in all directions, and these speedily
died away in silence. No other sounds were
heard save the voices of the menials who stripped
the galleries of their cushions and tapestry, in order
to put them in safety for the night, and wrangled
among themselves for the half-used bottles of
wine and relics of the refreshment which had been
served round to the spectators.
Beyond the precincts of the lists more than one
forge was erected; and these now began to glimmer
through the twilight, announcing the toil of
the armourers, which was to continue through the
whole night, in order to repair or alter the suits of
armour to be used again on the morrow.
A strong guard of men-at-arms, renewed at intervals,
from two hours to two hours, surrounded
the lists, and kept watch during the night.
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