The Geste of Duke Jocelyn

by Jeffery Farnol

  FYTTE 5

  Which of Duke Joc'lyn's woeful plight doth tell, And all that chanced him pent in dungeon cell.

  * * * * *

  In gloomy dungeon, scant of air and light, Duke Joc'lyn lay in sad and woeful plight; His hands and feet with massy fetters bound, That clashed, whene'er he moved, with dismal sound; His back against the clammy wall did rest, His heavy head was bowed upon his breast, But, 'neath drawn brows, he watched with wary eye Three ragged 'wights who, shackled, lay hard by, Three brawny rogues who, scowling, fiercely eyed him, And with lewd gibes and mocking gestures plied him. But Joc'lyn, huddled thus against the wall, Seemed verily to heed them none at all, Wherefore a red-haired rogue who thought he slept With full intent upon him furtive crept. But, ere he knew, right suddenly he felt Duke Joc'lyn's battered shoe beneath his belt; And falling back with sudden strangled cry, Flat on his back awhile did breathless lie, Whereat to rage his comrades did begin, And clashed their fetters with such doleful din That from a corner dim a fourth man sprang, And laughed and laughed, until their prison rang. "Well kicked, Sir Fool! Forsooth, well done!" laughed he, "Ne'er saw I, Fool, a fool the like o' thee!"

  Now beholding this tall fellow, Jocelyn knew him for that same forest-rogue had wrestled with him in the green, and sung for his life the "Song of Roguery." Wherefore he smiled on the fellow and the fellow on him:

  Quoth JOCELYN: I grieve to see A man like thee In such a woeful plight--

  Quoth the ROGUE: A Fool in fetters, Like his betters, Is yet a rarer sight.

  "Ha i' the clout, good fellow, for Folly in fetters is Folly in need, andFolly in need is Folly indeed! But, leaving folly awhile, who art thou andwhat thy name?"

  Saith the ROGUE: Robin I'm named, Sir Fool, Rob by the few, Which few are right, methinks, for so I do.

  "Then, Rob, if dost rob thou'rt a robber, and being robber thou'rtperchance in bonds for robbing, Robin?"

  "Aye, Fool, I, Rob, do rob and have robbed greater robbers that I mightby robbery live to rob like robbers again, as thou, by thy foolish folly,fooleries make, befooling fools lesser than thou, that thou, Fool, by suchfool-like fooleries may live to fool like fools again!"

  Quoth JOCELYN: Thou robber Rob, By Hob and Gob, Though robber-rogue, I swear That 't is great pity Rogue so pretty Must dance upon thin air.

  Quoth ROBIN: Since I must die On gallows high And wriggle in a noose, I'll none repine Nor weep nor whine, For where would be the use? Yet sad am I That I must die With rogues so base and small, Sly coney-catchers, Poor girdle-snatchers, That do in kennel crawl.

  "And yet," said Jocelyn, "thou thyself art rogue and thief confessed. Howthen art better than these thy fellows?"

  "By degree, Sir Fool. Even as thou'rt Fool o' folly uncommon, so am I noordinary rogue, being rogue o' rare parts with power of rogues i' the wildwood, while these be but puny rogues of no parts soever."

  "No rogues are we!" the three did loudly cry,

  "But sad, poor souls, that perishing do lie!"

  "In me," quoth one, "behold a man of worth, By trade a dyer and yclepen Gurth; In all this world no man, howe'er he try, Could live a life so innocent as I!"

  The second spake: "I am the ploughman Rick, That ne'er harmed man or woman, maid or chick! But here in direful dungeon doomed be I, Yet cannot tell the wherefore nor the why."

  Then spake Red-head, albeit gasping still: "An honest tanner I, my name is Will; 'T was me thou kickedst, Fool, in such ill manner, Of crimes unjust accused--and I, a tanner!" Here Joc'lyn smiled. "Most saintly rogues," said he; "The Saints, methinks, were rogues compared with ye, And one must needs in prison come who'd find The noblest, worthiest, best of all mankind. Poor, ill-used knaves, to lie in dungeon pent, Rogues sin-less quite, and eke so innocent, What though your looks another tale do tell, Since I'm your fellow, fellows let us dwell, For if ye're rogues that thus in bonds do lie, So I'm a rogue since here in bonds am I, Thus I, a rogue, do hail ye each a brother, Like brethren, then, we 'll comfort one another."

  Thus spake Jocelyn, whereafter these "saintly rogues" all three grewmightily peevish and, withal, gloomy, while Robin laughed and laughed atthem, nodding head and wagging finger.

  "Prithee, good Motley," he questioned, "what should bring so rare a Foolto lie in dungeon fettered and gyved along of innocent rogues and roguishrobber?"

  Whereto Duke Jocelyn answered on this wise: "Hast heard, belike, of Gui the Red?" (Here went there up a howl) "A mighty lord of whom't is said, That few do love and many dread." (Here went there up a growl)

  "This potent lord I chanced to view, Behaving as no lord should do, And thereupon, this lord I threw In pretty, plashing pool!

  "Whereon this dreadful lord did get Exceeding wroth and very wet; Wherefore in dungeon here I'm set, For fierce and froward Fool."

  Here went there up a shout of glee. Cried Robin: "O sweet Fool, I would I had been there to see This haughty lord of high degree In pretty, plashing pool."

  Here shout of glee became a roar, That made the dungeon ring; They laughed, they rolled upon the floor, Till suddenly the massy door On creaking hinge did swing; And to them the head jailer now appeared, A sombre man who sighed through tangled beard.

  "How now, rogue-lads," said he, "grow ye merry in sooth by reason o' thisFool! Aye me, all men do grow merry save only I, Ranulph, Chief Torturer,Ranulph o' the Keys, o' the Gibbet, o' the City Axe--poor Ranulph theHeadsman. Good lack! I've cut off the head o' many a man merrier than I--aye, that have I, and more's the pity! And now, ye that are to die so sooncan wax joyous along o' this motley Fool! Why, 't is a manifest good Fool,and rare singer o' songs, 't is said, though malapert, with no respect forhis betters and over-quick at dagger-play. So 't is a Fool must die andsing no more, and there's the pity on't for I do love a song, I--being acompanionable soul and jovial withal, aye, a very bawcock of a boy, I.To-morrow Red Gui doth hale ye to his Castle o' the Rock, there to die allfive for his good pleasure, as is very fitting and proper, so be merrywhiles ye may. Meantime, behold here another rogue, a youngling imp. So isfive become six, and six may laugh louder than five, methinks, so laughyour best."

  Then Ranulph o' the Keys sighed, closed the great door and went his way,leaving the new captive to their mercies. Fair he was and slender, and ofa timid seeming, for now he crouched against the wall, his face hid 'neaththe hood of ragged mantle; wherefore the "saintly" three incontinentscowled upon him, roared at him and made a horrid clashing with theirfetters:

  "Ha, blood and bones!" cried Rick the Ploughman. "What murderous babe artthou to go unshackled in presence o' thy betters?"

  "Aye, forsooth," growled Will the Tanner, "who 'rt thou to come hitherdistressing the last hours o' we poor, perishing mortals? Discourse, lest Ibite the heart o' thee!"

  "Pronounce, imp!" roared Gurth the Dyer, "lest I tear thy liver!"

  "Sit ye, here beside me, youth," said Jocelyn, "and presently thou shaltknow these tearers of livers and biters of hearts for lambs of innocenceand doves of gentleness--by their own confessions. For, remark now, gentleboy, all we are prisoners and therefore guiltless of every offence--indeed,where is the prisoner, but who, according to himself, is not more sinnedagainst than sinner, and where the convicted rogue but, with his tongue,shall disprove all men's testimony? So here sit three guileless men,spotless of soul and beyond all thought innocent of every sin soever.Yonder is Rob, a robber, and here sit I, a Fool."

  "Ha!" cried Rick. "Yet murderous Fool art thou and apt to dagger-play!Belike hast slain a man this day in way o' folly--ha?"

  "Two!" answered Jocelyn, nodding. "These two had been more but that mydagger brake."

  Here was silence awhile what time Jocelyn hummed the line of a song and hiscompanions eyed him with looks askance.

  "Why then, good Folly," said Rick at last, "'t is for a little spilling o'blood art here, a little, pretty business o'
murder--ha?"

  "'T is so they name it," answered Jocelyn.

  "Bones o' me!" growled Will, "I do begin to love this Fool."

  "And didst pronounce thyself our brother, Fool?" questioned Gurth.

  "Aye, verily!"

  "Then brethren let us be henceforth, and comrades to boot!" cried Rick."Jolly Clerks o' Saint Nicholas to share and share alike--ha? So then 't isaccorded. And now what o' yon lily-livered imp? 'T is a sickly youth andI love him not. But he hath a cloak, look'ee--a cloak forsooth and poorRick's a-cold! Ho, lad--throw me thy cloak!"

  "Beshrew me!" roared Gurth. "But he beareth belt and wallet! Ha, boy, givethy wallet and girdle--bestow!"

  "And by sweet Saint Nick," growled Will, "the dainty youngling disportethhimself to mine eyes in a gold finger-ring! Aha, boy! Give now thy trinketunto an honest tanner."

  Hereupon and with one accord up started the three, fierce-eyed; butJocelyn, laughing, rose up also.

  "Back, corpses!" quoth he, swinging the heavy fetters to and fro betweenshackled wrists. "Stand, good Masters Dry-bones; of what avail cloak, orwallet, or ring to ye that are dead men? Now, since corpses ye areinsomuch as concerneth this world, be ye reasonable and kindly corpses.Sit ye then, Masters Dust-and-Ashes, and I will incontinent sing ye, chantor intone ye a little song of organs and graves and the gallows-treewhereon we must dance anon; as, hearken:

  "Sing a song of corpses three That ere long shall dancing be, On the merry gallows-tree-- High and low, To and fro, Leaping, skipping, Turning, tripping, Wriggling, whirling, Twisting, twirling: Sing hey for the gallows-tree."

  "Stint--stint thy beastly song now!" cried Will, pale of cheek. But Jocelynsang the louder:

  "Sing a song of dying groans, Sing a song of cries and moans, Sing a song of dead men's bones, That shall rest, All unblest, To rot and rot, Remembered not, For dogs to gnaw And battle for, Sing hey for the dead rogue's bones."

  "Abate--ha--abate thy fiendish rant!" cried Rick, glancing fearfully overshoulder.

  "Aye, Fool--beseech thee! Fair flesh may not abide it!" cried Gurth,shivering, while Robin grinned no more and the fearful youth leanedwide-eyed to behold the singer, this strange, scarred face beneath itsbattered cock's-comb, these joyous eyes, these smiling lips as Jocelyncontinued:

  "Now ends my song with ghosts forlorn, Three gibbering ghosts that mope and mourn, Then shrieking, flee at breath of dawn, Where creatures fell In torment dwell, Blind things and foul, That creep and howl, That rend and bite And claw and fight. Where fires red-hot Consume them not, And they in anguish Writhe and languish And groan in pain For night again. Sing hey for pale ghosts forlorn."

  Now when the song was ended, the three looked dismally on one another and,bethinking them of their cruel end, they groaned and sighed lamentably:

  My daughter GILLIAN interposeth:

  GILL: Father, I like that song, it's fine; But let me ask about this line: "Blind things and foul, That creep and howl." Now tell me, please, if you don't mind, Why were the little horrors blind?

  MYSELF: The beastly things, as I surmise, Had scratched out one another's eyes.

  GILL: I suppose this place where creatures fell In torments dwell is meant for--

  MYSELF: Well, I think, my Gill, the place you've guessed, So let me get on with our Geste.

  ... they groaned and sighed lamentably--

  My daughter GILLIAN interjecteth:

  GILL: Father--now don't get in a huff-- But don't you think they've groaned enough?

  MYSELF: My Gillian--no! Leave well alone; This is the place for them to groan.

  Lamentably they did together moan, And uttered each full many a hollow groan.

  My daughter GILLIAN interposeth:

  GILL: But, father, groans are so distressing, And groans in verse are most depressing--

  MYSELF: Then peace, child, and in common prose I'll let the poor rogues vent their woes:

  ... they groaned and they sighed lamentably--

  My daughter GILLIAN interrupteth:

  GILL: What, father, are they groaning still?

  MYSELF: Of course they are, and so they will, And so shall I; so, girl, take heed, And cease their groaning to impede. Is it agreed?

  GILL: Oh, yes, indeed!

  MYSELF: Then with our Geste I will proceed.

  ... they groaned and sighed lamentably.

  "Alack!" cried Gurth, "I had not greatly minded till now, but thisvile-tongued Fool hath stirred Fear to wakefulness within me. Here's me,scarce thirty turned, hale and hearty, yet must die woefully and with amaid as do love me grievously!"

  "And me!" groaned Rick. "No more than twenty and five, I--a very lad--andwith two maids as do languish for me fain and fond!"

  "Ha, and what o' me?" mourned dismal, redheaded Will. "A lusty, properfellow I be and wi' maids a score as do sigh continual. And me to die--Owoe! And I a tanner!"

  "Content ye, brothers!" said Jocelyn. "Look now, here's Gurth hath livedbut thirty years, and now must die--good: so shall he die weighted withless of sin than had he lived thirty more. Be ye comforted in this,distressful rogues, the shorter our life the less we sin, the which is afair, good thing. As for these shackles, though our bodies be 'prisoned oursouls go free, thus, while we languish here, our souls astride a sunbeammay mount aloft, 'bove all pains and tribulations soever. Thus if we mustdance together in noose, our souls, I say, escaping these fleshy bonds,shall wing away to freedom everlasting. Bethink ye of this, grievousknaves, and take heart. Regarding the which same truths I will, for thygreater comforting, incontinent make ye a song--hearken!

  "Let Folly sing a song to cheer All poor rogues that languish here, Doomed in dismal dungeon drear, Doomed in dungeon dim.

  "Though flesh full soon beneath the sod Doth perish and decay, Though cherished body is but clod, Yet in his soul man is a God, To do and live alway. So hence with gloom and banish fear, Come Mirth and Jollity, Since, though we pine in dungeon drear, Though these, our bodies, languish here, We in our minds go free."

  Thus cheerily sang Jocelyn until, chancing to see how the youth leanedforward great-eyed, watching as he sung, he broke off to question himblithely:

  "How now, good youth, hast a leaning to Folly e'en though Folly gofettered, and thyself in dungeon?"

  "Fool," answered the youth, soft-voiced, "me-thinks 't is strange Folly cansing thus in chains! Hast thou no fear of death?"

  "Why truly I love it no more than my fellow-fools. But I, being fooluncommon, am wise enough to know that Death, howsoe'er he come, may comebut once--and there's a comfortable thought!"

  So saying, Jocelyn seated himself beside the youth and watched himkeen-eyed.

  "And thou canst sing of Freedom, Fool, to the jangle of thy fetters?"

  "Truly, youth, 't is but my baser part lieth shackled, thus while bodypineth here, soul walketh i' the kindly sun--aye, e'en now as I do gaze onthee, I, in my thought, do stand in a fair garden--beside a lily-pool,where she I love cometh shy-footed to meet me, tall and gracious and sweet,as her flowers. A dream, belike, yet in this dream she looketh on me witheyes of love and love is on her lips and in her heart--so is my dream veryprecious."

  At this, the youth shrank beneath his cloak while in an adjacent corner thethree rolled dice with Robin and quarrelled hoarse and loud.

  "Youth," said Jocelyn, "I pray thee, tell me thy name."

  Without lifting head the youth answered:

  "Hugo!"

  "Look up, Hugo!" But Hugo bowed his head the lower.

  "Hast wondrous hair, Hugo--red gold 'neath thy hood!"

  Here came a slim, white hand to order the rebellious tress but, findingnone, trembled and hid itself. Then very suddenly Jocelyn leaned near andcaught this hand, clasping it fast yet with fingers very gentle, and spakequick and eager:

  "Hugo--alas, Hugo! What bringeth thee in this evil place? Art in danger?Speak, speak!"

  "Nay, here is no harm f
or me, Joconde. And I am hither come for sake of apoor Fool that is braver than the bravest--one did jeopardise his foolishlife for sake of a maid, wherefore I, Hugo, do give him life. Take now thiswallet, within is good store of gold and better--a potent charm to closeall watchful eyes. Hist, Joconde, and mark me well! Ranulph o' the Axe isa mighty drinker--to-night, drawn by fame of thy wit, he cometh with hisfellows. This money shall buy them wine, in the wine cast this powder soshall they sleep and thou go free."

  "Aye!" said Jocelyn, "and then?"

  "There will meet thee a dwarf shall free thee of thy fetters, and by secretways set thee without the city--then, tarry not, but flee for thy life--"

  "Now by the Holy Rood!" quoth Jocelyn softly, "never in all this world wasthere prisoner so happy as this poor Fool! But, Hugo, an I win free byreason of a brave and noble lady, so long as she bide in Canalise, so longmust I--"

  My daughter GILLIAN interposeth:

  GILL: O, father, now I understand-- Of course, this Hugo is Yolande!

  MYSELF: Exactly, miss, the fact is clear; But how on earth did she get here? I don't want her here--

  GILL: Why not?

  MYSELF: Because, being here, she spoils my plot, Which would drive any author frantic--

  GILL: I think it's fine, and most romantic. Besides, you know, you wrote her there--

  MYSELF: She came--before I was aware--

  GILL: She couldn't, father, for just think, You've made her all of pen and ink. So you, of course, can make her do Exactly as you want her to.

  MYSELF: Dear innocent! You little know The trials poor authors undergo. How heroines, when they break loose, Are apt to play the very deuce, Dragging their authors to and fro, And where he wills--they will not go.

  GILL: Well, since she's here, please let her be, She wants to set Duke Joc'lyn free.

  MYSELF: Enough--enough, my plans are made, I'll set him free without her aid, And in a manner, I apprise you, As will, I fancy, quite surprise you. Besides, a dungeon no fit place is For a dainty lady's graces. So, since she's in, 't is very plain I now must get her out again."To bide in Canalise,'t is folly!" cried Hugo. "O,'t were a madness fond!"

  "Aye," sighed Jocelyn, "some do call love a madness--thus mad am I,forsooth!"

  "Hush!" whispered Hugo, as from without came the tramp of heavy feet."Fare-thee-well and--ah, be not mad, Joconde!"

  The door creaked open, and six soldiers entered bringing a prisoner,chained and fettered, and therewith fast bound and gagged, whom they setungently upon the stone floor; then straightway seizing upon Robin, theyhaled him to his feet.

  "Come, rogue," said one, "thou art to hang at cockcrow!"

  "Is't so, good fellows?" quoth Robin,

  "Then cock be curst That croweth first!

  As for thee, good Motley, peradventure when, by hangman's noose, our soulsenfranchised go, they shall company together, thine and mine! Till then--farewell, Folly!"

  So Robin was led forth of the dungeon and the heavy door crashed shut; butwhen Jocelyn looked for Hugo--lo! he was gone also.

  Evening was come and the light began to fail, therefore Jocelyn crouchedbeneath the narrow loophole and taking from his bosom the wallet, foundtherein good store of money together with the charm or philtre: and bowinghis head above this little wallet, he fell to profound meditation.

  But presently, roused by hoarse laughter, he glanced up to find the threeplaguing the helpless prisoner with sundry kicks and buffets; so Jocelyncrossed the dungeon, and putting the tormentors aside, stood amazed tobehold in this latest captive none other than Sir Pertinax. Straightway heloosed off the gag, whereupon the good knight incontinent swore a gaspingoath and prayed his limbs might be loosed also; the which done, heforthwith sprang up, and falling on the astonished three, he beat andclouted them with fist and manacles, and drave them to and fro about thedungeon.

  "Ha, dogs! Wilt spurn me with they vile feet, buffet me with thy beastlyhands, forsooth!" roared he and kicked and cuffed them so that they,thinking him mad, cried aloud in fear until Sir Pertinax, growing a-weary,seated himself against the wall, and folding his arms, scowled indignantupon Jocelyn who greeted him merrily:

  "Hail and greeting to thee, my Pertinax; thy gloomy visage is a joy!"

  Sir Pertinax snorted, but spake not; wherefore the Duke questioned him fullblithe: "What fair, good wind hath blown thee dungeon-wards, sweet soul?"

  "Ha!" quoth the knight. "Fetters, see'st thou, a dungeon, and these foulknaves for company--the which cometh of thy fool's folly, messire! Soprithee ha' done with it!"

  "Stay, gentle gossip, thou'rt foolish, methinks; thou frettest 'gainstfate, thou kickest unwisely 'gainst the pricks, thou ragest pitifully'gainst circumstance--in fine, thou'rt a very Pertinax, my Pertinax!"

  "Aye troth, that am I and no dog to lie thus chained in noisome pit, parDex! So let us out, messire, and that incontinent!"

  "Why here is a bright thought, sweet lad, let us out forthwith--but how?"

  "Summon the town-reeve, messire, the burgesses, the council, declare thyrank, so shall we go free--none shall dare hold thus a prince of thyexalted state and potent might! Declare thyself, lord."

  "This were simple matter, Pertinax, but shall they believe us other than weseem, think ye?"

  Quoth Pertinax: "We can try!"

  "Verily," said Jocelyn, "this very moment!" So saying, he turned to thethree who sat in a corner muttering together.

  "Good brothers, gentle rogues," said he, "behold and regard well thissturdy cut-throat fellow that sitteth beside me, big of body, unseemly ofhabit, fierce and unlovely of look--one to yield the wall unto, see ye! Andyet--now heed me well, this fellow, ragged and unkempt, this ill-lookinghaunter of bye-ways, this furtive snatcher of purses (hold thy peace,Pertinax!). I say this unsavoury-seeming clapper-claw is yet neither onenor other, but a goodly knight, famous in battle, joust and tourney, apotent lord of noble heritage, known to the world as Sir Pertinax of SheneCastle and divers rich manors and demesnes. Furthermore, I that do seem asorry jesting-fellow, I that in antic habit go, that cut ye capers withass's ears a-dangle and languish here your fellow in bonds, am yet noantic, no poor, motley Fool, but a duke and lord of many fair townsand rich cities beyond Morfeville and the Southward March. How say ye,brothers?"

  "That thou'rt a fool!" quoth Rick.

  "True!" nodded Jocelyn.

  "Most true!" sighed Sir Pertinax.

  "And a liar!" growled Gurth.

  "And a murderous rogue!" cried Will, "and shall hang, along of us--as I'm atanner!"

  "Alack, Sir Knight," smiled Jocelyn, "of what avail rank or fame or both'gainst a motley habit and a ragged mantle. Thus, Pertinax, thou artno more than what thou seemest, to wit--a poor, fierce rogue, and I, abeggarly stroller."

  "And like to have our necks stretched, lord, by reason of a fond andfoolish whim!"

  "Unless, Pertinax, having naught to depend on but our native wit we, by ourwit, win free. Other poor rogues in like case have broke prison ere now,and 'tis pity and shame in us if thou, a knight so potent and high-born,and I, a prince, may not do the like."

  "Messire, unlearned am I in the breaking o' prisons so when my time comethto die in a noose I can but die as knight should--though I had rather 'twere in honest fight."

  "Spoken like the very fool of a knight!" quoth Jocelyn. "So now will Ishow thee how by the wit of a brave and noble lady we may yet 'scape thehangman. Hearken in thine ear!"

  But, when Jocelyn had told him all and shown money and sleeping-charm, SirPertinax grew thoughtful, sighing deep and oft, yet speaking not, whereforethe Duke questioned him.

  "Good gossip, gasp not!" quoth he. "How think'st thou of prison-breakingnow--expound!"

  "Why, sir, I think when all do charmed and spellbound snore, Then will we shrewdly choke them that they wake no more!"

  "Nay, Pertinax, here shall be no need of choking, forsooth!" Sir Pertinaxbowed chin on fis
t and sighed again.

  "Pertinax, prithee puff not! Yet, an puff ye will, pronounce me then thewhy and wherefore of thy puffing."

  "Lord, here is neither gasp nor puff, here is honest sighing. I can sigh aswell as another."

  "Since when hast learned this so tender art, my Pertinax?"

  "And I do sigh by reason of memory."

  "As what, Pertinax?"

  "Eyes, lord--her eyes so darkly bright and, as I do think--black!"

  "Nay, blue, Pertinax--blue as heaven!"

  "Black, messire, black as--as black!"

  "Blue, boy, blue!"

  "Lord, they are black!"

  "Speak'st thou of Yolande?"

  "Messire, of one I speak, but whom, I know not. She came to me i' thegreenwood as I sat a-fishing. Her hair long and black--ay, black andcurled, her eyes dark, and for beauty ne'er saw I her like."

  "And yet hast seen my Lady Yolande oft!"

  "Her voice, messire, her voice soft and sweet as the murmur of waters, andvery full of allure."

  "Why, how now!" cried Jocelyn. "Art thou--thou, my Pertinax, becomeat last one of Cupid's humble following? All joy to thee, my lovelylover--here in truth is added bond betwixt us! For since thou dost love amaid, even as I do love a maid, so being lovers twain needs must we loveeach other the better therefore."

  "Nay, out alack, my lord!" sighed Sir Pertinax. "For though I do love her,she, by reason o' my ill-favoured looks, the which, woe's me, I may notalter, loveth not me, as I do judge."

  "How judge ye this?"

  "Lord, she giveth me hard names. She, all in a breath, hath pictured methus: 'Hooked of nose, fierce-eyed, of aspect grim--ungentle, unlovely,harsh o' tongue, dour o' visage, hard o' heart, flinty o' soul and ofmanners rude.'"

  "Good! But was this all, my Pertinax?"

  "Nay, lord, and with a wannion--there was more to like purpose."

  "Excellent, my lovely knight--let hope sing in thee. For look now, if shenamed thee hooked of nose, fierce-eyed and of aspect grim--she speakethvery truth, for so thou art, my Pertinax. Now truth is a fair virtue in manor maid, so is she both virtuous and fair! Nay, puff not, sighful Pertinax,but for thy comforting mark this--she hath viewed and heeded thy outwardman narrowly--so shall she not forget thee soon; she with woman's eye hathmarked the great heart of thee through sorry habit and rusty mail, andfound therein the love thy harsh tongue might not utter; and thus,methinks, she hath thee in mind--aye, even now, mayhap. Lastly, good,lovely blunderbore--mark this! 'Tis better to win a maid's anger than sheshould heed thee none at all. Let love carol i' thy heart and be ye worthy,so, when ye shall meet again, 'tis like enough, despite thy hooked nose,she shall find thine eyes gentle, thy unloveliness lovely, thy harsh tonguewondrous tender and thy flinty soul the soul of a man."

  "Why, faith, lord," quoth Pertinax, his grim lips softening to a smile,"despite her words, she spake in voice full sweet, and her eyes--ah,messire, her eyes were wondrous kind--gentle eyes--aye, her eyes were--"

  "Eyes, my Pertinax--black eyes!"

  "And gentle! By which same token, lord, she did give to me this token--thismost strange trinket."

  But all at once, was the creak of hinges, and the ponderous door opening,Ranulph o' the Axe appeared, followed by divers of the warders bearingtorches.

  "Oho!" sighed Ranulph, doleful of visage. "Aha, good bawcocks, here comeI, and these my fellows, for love o' thee, good Fool, thy quips, thyquirks, thy songs and antics capersome. For troth I'm a merry dog, I--awanton wag, a bully boy and jovial, though woeful o' look!"

  "Wherefore woeful!"

  "For that I am not joyous, good Motley. Look 'ee--here's me born with arare, merry heart, but sad and sober of head! Here's a heart bubbling withkindliness and soft and tender as sucking lamb, wedded to head and facefull o' gloom! Here's laughter within me and woe without me, so am I everat odds with myself--and there's my sorrow. Regarding the which same I willnow chaunt ye song I made on myself; 'twas meant for merry song and blithe,but of itself turned mournful song anon as ye shall hear."

  So saying, Ranulph o' the Axe threw back grim head and sang gruff, albeitplaintive, thus:

  "O! merry I am and right merry I'll be, Ho-ho for block, gibbet and rack--oho! To hang or behead ye there's none like to me, For I'm headsman, tormentor, and hangman, all three, And never for work do I lack--oho!

  "I live but to torture since torment's my trade, But my torment well meant is, I trow; If I hang or behead ye, it can't be gainsaid, Though my head for the head of a headsman was made, Still I'm all loving-kindness below.

  "But if ever I strive merry story to tell, Full of japeful and humorsome graces, 'T is as though I were tolling a funeral bell As if dismally, dolefully tolling a knell, So solemn and sad grow all faces.

  "I hang, burn and torture the best that I may, Ho pincers and thumbscrews and rack--oho! And all heads I cut off in a headsmanlike way; So I'll hang, burn and torment 'till cometh the day That my kind heart within me shall crack--oho! Well-a-wey! Well-a-wey! Woe is me for the day That my poor heart inside me shall crack! Oho!

  "So there's my song! 'T is dull song and, striving to be merry song, is sadsong, yet might be worse song, for I have heard a worse song, ere now--but't is poor song. So come, Fool, do thou sing us merry song to cheer us'gainst my sad song."

  "Why truly, Sir Headsman," said Jocelyn, "here be songs a-many, yet if thou'rt for songs, songs will we sing thee, each and every of us. But first,behold here is money shall buy us wine in plenty that we may grow merrywithal in very sooth."

  "Oho!" cried Ranulph. "Spoken like a noble Motley, a fair, sweet Fool! Gothou, Bertram, obey this lord-like Fool--bring wine, good wine and much,and haste thee, for night draweth on and at cock-crow I must away."

  "Aye," nodded Jocelyn, "in the matter of one--Robin?"

  "Verily, Fool. A cheery soul is Robin, though an outlaw, and well belovedin Canalise. So is he to hang at cock-crow lest folk make disturbance."

  "Where lieth he now?"

  "Where but in the watch-house beside the gallows 'neath Black Lewin'scharge. But come, good Motley, sing--a pretty song, a merry ditty, ha!"

  So forthwith Jocelyn took his lute and sang:

  "With dainty ditty Quaint and pretty I will fit ye, So heed and mark me well, And who we be That here ye see Now unto ye Explicit I will tell:

  "Then here first behold one Gurth, a worthy, dying Dyer, Since he by dyeing liveth, so to dye is his desire: For being thus a very Dyer, he liveth but to dye, And dyeing daily he doth all his daily wants supply. Full often hath he dyed ere now to earn his daily bread, Thus, dyeing not, this worthy Dyer must soon, alas! be dead.

  "Here's Rick--a saintly ploughman, he Hath guided plough so well, That here, with rogues the like of me, He pines in dungeon cell.

  "Here's Red-haired Will--O fie! That Will should fettered lie In such base, cruel manner! For though his hair be red, Brave Will, when all is said, Is--hark 'ee--Will's a tanner!"

  "Enough, Fool!" cried Will. "An thou must sing, sing of thyself, forthyself, to thyself, and I will sing of myself an' need be!"

  Laughed JOCELYN:

  Why then, brave Will, Come, sing thy fill.

  Whereupon Will cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and rumbling anote or so to fix the key, burst into songful roar:

  "A tanner I, a lusty man, A tanner men call Will, And being tanner true, I tan, Would I were tanning still; Ho derry, derry down, Hey derry down, Would I were tanning still."

  "Aye, verily!" growled Sir Pertinax. "And choked in thy vile tan-pit, forscurvier song was never heard, par Dex!"

  "Why 'tis heard, forsooth," said Jocelyn, "and might be heard a mile hence!Chant on, brave Will."

  The Tanner, nothing loth, wiped his mouth, clenched his fists and standingsquare and rigid, continued:

  "How gaily I a-tanning went, No tanner blithe as I, No tanner e'er so innocent, Though here in chains I lie. Ho derry down, Hey derry do
wn, In grievous chains I lie.

  "No more, alack, poor Will will tan, Since Will will, all unwilling, Though tanner he and proper man, A gloomy grave be filling. Hey derry down, Ho derry down, A gloomy grave be filling."

  "Now out upon thee, Tanner!" sighed Ranulph. "Here's sad song, a song o'graves, and therefore most unlovely, a song I--Saints and Angels!" hegasped:

  And pointed where Sir Pertinax did stand, The Heart of Crystal shining in his hand. "The Heart-in-Heart! The Crystal Heart!" cried he, And crying thus, sank down on bended knee, While jailers all and scurvy knaves, pell-mell, Betook them to their marrow-bones as well; Whereat Sir Pertinax oped wond'ring eyes, And questioned him 'twixt anger and surprise. Then answered Ranulph, "Sir, though chained ye go, Yet to thee we do all obedience owe By reason of that sacred amulet, That crystal heart in heart of crystal set:

  'For he that holdeth Crystal Heart Holdeth all and every part, And by night or eke by day The Heart-in-Heart all must obey!"'

  "Obey?" quoth Pertinax. "Ha! Let us see If in thy vaunt there aught of virtue be: For by this Heart of Crystal that I bear, I charge ye loose the chains the Fool doth wear, Then off with these accursed gyves of mine, Or--"

  Ranulph to the warders gave a sign, And they to work did go with such good speed, That Joc'lyn soon with Pertinax stood freed, "Now by my halidome!" quoth Pertinax, "This talisman methinks no magic lacks, So knaves, I bid ye--by this magic Heart, Draw bolt and bar that hence we may depart--" But now the scurvy knaves made dismal cry. "Good sir!" they wailed, "Ah, leave us not to die!" "Aye, by Heav'n's light!" fierce quoth Sir Pertinax, "Ye're better dead by gibbet or by axe, Since naught but scurvy, coward rogues are ye, And so be hanged--be hanged to ye, all three!"

  "Knight!" Joc'lyn sighed, "'neath Heaven's light somewhere Doth live a dark-eyed maid with black-curled hair-- Her voice is soft and full of sweet allure, And thou, perchance, one day may humbly woo her; So these poor rogues now woo their lives of thee, Show mercy then and mercy find of she."

  At this Sir Pertinax rubbed chin and frowned, Red grew his cheek, his fierce eyes sought the ground, Then, even as he thus pinched chin and scowled, "Loose, then, the dismal knaves!" at last he growled. But now grim Ranulph tangled beard tore And wrung his hands and sighed and groaned and swore With loud complaints and woeful lamentations, With muttered oaths and murmured objurgations, With curses dire and impious imprecations.

  "Beshrew me, masters all!" quoth he. "Now here's ill prank to play a poorhangman, may I ne'er quaff good liquor more, let me languish o' thequartern ague and die o' the doleful dumps if I ever saw the like o' this!For look 'ee now, if I set these three rogues free, how may I hang 'em ashang 'em I must, since I by hanging live to hang again, and if I don'thang 'em whom shall I hang since hang I must, I being hangman? Bethink yeo' this, sirs, and show a little pity to a poor hangman."

  "Why then, mark ye this, hangman," said Jocelyn, "since on hanging doth thyhangman's reputation hang, then hang thou must; therefore, an ye lack rogueto hang, go hang thyself, so, hanging, shall thy hanging be done with andthou having lived a hangman, hangman die, thus, hangman hanging hangman,hangman hanging shall be hangman still, and being still, thus hanging,shall hang no more."

  "Aye, verily!" quoth Sir Pertinax, "there it is in a nutshell--hangman, behanged to thee! So off with their fetters, Master Gallows, by Crystal HeartI charge thee!"

  Hereupon the scurvy knaves were freed, to their great joy, and followingthe bold knight, made haste to quit their gloomy dungeon. Reaching theguardroom above, Sir Pertinax called lustily for sword and bascinet, andthereafter chose divers likely weapons for his companions who, with axe andpike and guisarme on shoulder, followed him out into the free air.

  Now it was night and very dark, but Gurth, who was a man of the town,brought them by dim and lonely alleys and crooked ways until at last theyhalted within a certain dark and narrow street.

  "Whither now?" questioned Sir Pertinax.

  "Verily," said Jocelyn, "where but to the gatehouse--"

  "Not so," muttered Gurth, "'tis overly well guarded--"

  "Aye," growled Will, "which is true, as I'm a tanner!"

  "Howbeit," said Jocelyn, "I'm for the gatehouse!"

  "And wherefore?" demanded Sir Pertinax.

  "In cause of one Rob, a robber."

  "Aye, but," said Gurth, "he is to hang at crow-o'-cock and 'tis nighcock-crow now."

  "The more need for haste," said Jocelyn.

  But, even now, as they together spoke, A sullen tramp the sleeping echoes woke, Behind them in the gloom dim forms they saw, While others grimly barred the way before; And so, by reason that they could not fly, They grasped their weapons and prepared to die. Then in the darkness of that narrow street, Broad axe and pike and flashing sword did meet. Duke Jocelyn full many a thrust drave home, Till whirling pike-staff smote him on cock's-comb, And staggering back to an adjacent wall, In deep-sunk doorway groaning he did fall.

  My daughter GILLIAN remonstrateth:

  GILL: Now, father, please don't let him die--

  MYSELF: No, no, indeed, my Gill, not I, My heroes take a lot of killing--

  GILL: Then go on quick, it's very thrilling! I hope he vanquishes his foes, And let him do it, please, in prose.

  "O woe!" said a quavering voice. "Alack, and well-a-wey--"

  My daughter GILLIAN demurreth:

  GILL: No, father--that's not right at all. You'd got to where you'd made him fall.

  MYSELF: Well, then, Duke Joc'lyn, from his swoon awaking, Found that his head confoundedly was aching; Found he was bruised all down from top to toe--

  GILL: A bruise, father, and he a duke? No, no! Besides, you make A frightful mistake-- A hero's head should never ache; And, father, now, whoever knew A hero beaten black and blue? And then a bruise, it seems to me, Is unromantic as can be. He can't be bruised, And shan't be bruised, For, if you bruise him, And ill-use him, I'll refuse him-- No reader, I am sure, would choose A hero any one can bruise. So, father, if you want him read, Don't bruise him, please--

  MYSELF: Enough is said!

  At this, Jocelyn sat up and wondered to find himself in a small chamberdim-lit by a smoking cresset. On one side of him leaned an ancient woman,a very hag-like dame

  With long, sharp nose that downward curved as though It fain would, beak-like, peck sharp chin below;

  and upon his other side a young damsel of a wondrous dark beauty.

  "Lady," said he, "where am I?"

  "Hush, poor Motley!" whispered the maid. "Thou didst fall 'gainst the dooryonder. But speak low, they that seek thy life may yet be nigh."

  "Nay, then," quoth Jocelyn, reaching for his sword, "I must out and aid mycomrades."

  "Alack!" sighed the old woman. "Thy comrades do without lie all slain saveone that groaneth--hearken!"

  "O, woe!" mourned a quavering voice beyond the door. "O, woe, sore hurted Ibe, and like to die--and I a tanner!"

  Very heedfully, Jocelyn unbarred the door, and peering into the narrowstreet, found it deserted and empty save for certain outstretched formsthat stirred not; looking down on these dim shapes he knew one for Rick thePloughman, whose ploughing days were sped and, huddled in a corner hard by,he found Will the Tanner, who groaned fitfully; but of Sir Pertinax andGurth he saw nothing. So Jocelyn made shift to bear the Tanner within thehouse, and here Will, finding his hurts of small account, sat up, and whilethe wise old woman bandaged his wound, answered Jocelyn's eager questions,and told how Sir Pertinax and Gurth the Dyer had broken through theirassailants and made good their escape.

  Now, when the old woman had thus cherished their hurts, Jocelyn wouldfain have given her money, but she mumbled and mowed and cracked herfinger-joints and shook grey head.

  "Not so, good Fool!" she croaked, "for I do know thee for that same gentleMotley did save me from Black Lewin--a murrain seize him! So now will Isave thee--behold!" So saying she
set bony hand to wall; and lo! in thewall yawned a square opening narrow and dark, whence issued a cold wind."Begone, thou brave merryman!" quoth she. "Yonder safety lieth; thisdarksome way shall carry thee out beneath the city wall!"

  "Gramercy, thou kindly Witch!" said Jocelyn. "Yet first must I to thewatch-house beside the gate for one Robin that lieth 'prisoned there."

  "How, Fool, dost mean Robin-a-Green that is to hang?"

  "In truth!"

  "But Rob o' the Green is outlawed, banned o' Church, a very rogue!"

  "But a man, wherefore I would save him alive."

  "Nay, Fool, o' thy folly be wise and seek ye safety instead. Would'st perilthy body for a thief?"

  "Verily, dame, even as I did for a Witch."

  Now, here the old woman scowled and mumbled and cracked her finger-bonesangrily. But the beauteous young maid viewed Jocelyn with bright, approvingeyes:

  "But, Fool," cried she, "O wondrous Fool, wilt adventure thyself in causeso desperate?"

  "Blithely, fair lady!"

  "But, alas! the guards be many and thou but one--"

  "Nay!" cried a voice:

  "For thou may'st see That two are we!"

  And forth of the dark opening in the wall strode Lobkyn Lollo the Dwarf,his great, spiked club on brawny shoulder. Jocelyn viewed the monstrouslittle man in awed wonder; but beholding his mighty girth and determinedaspect, wonder changed to kindliness; quoth he:

  "Fair greeting, comrade! If thou'rt for a little bickering and disputationwith that goodly club o' thine, come thy ways for methinks I do smell thedawn."

  "Aha, thou naughty little one!" cried the Witch, shaking bony fist. "Artfor fighting for rogue's life along of a Fool, then?"

  Quoth LOBKYN:

  Aye, grannam, though ye slap me, still, Fight and aid this Fool I will--

  "And talking o' Will," quoth Will, "what o' me, for though I'm a tanner I'ma man, aye, verily, as I'm a tanner."

  "And methinks a better man than tanner!" said Jocelyn. "So here we standthree goodly wights and well armed. Let's away--"

  "Nay, then, wild Madcap," croaked the Witch, "an my Lobkyn go I go, and,though I be old and feeble, shalt find my craft more potent than sword orclub--wait!"

  Here the old woman, opening a dingy cupboard, took thence a small crockover which she muttered spells and incantations with look and gesture soevil that Lobkyn eyed her askance, Will the Tanner cowered and whisperedfragments of prayers, and even Jocelyn crossed himself.

  "Come!" croaked the Witch. "Now do I go to save rogue from gallows for sakeof thee, tall Fool. Come ye, come and do as I bid ye in all things--come!"