Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER X.

  Born of noble state, Well could he tourney, and in lists debate.--Spenser.

  When, as may be remembered, the porter led the knight into the secondhall, our friend Longpole remained in the first, with those of his owndegree; nor was he long in making acquaintance, and becoming intimatewith every one round about, from the old seneschal, who took his placein the leathern chair by right of immemorial service, to the suckingserving-man who was hardly yet weaned from his mother's cottage, andfelt as stiffly uncomfortable in his rich livery suit as a hog inarmour, a cat in pattens, or any other unfortunate animal in a garb ithas not been accustomed to. For all, and each, Longpole had his jokeand his quibble; he played with one, he jested with the other, and hewon the hearts of all. In short, every one was in a roar of laughterwhen the porter returned from the second hall, followed by one ofthose inferior gentlemen who had just found it inexpedient to followup his purpose of casting Sir Osborne out. Immediately on entering,the porter pointed out Longpole to the other, who advanced andaddressed him with a vastly supercilious air, which, however, did notproduce any very awful effect upon the honest fletcher.[4]

  "So, fellow," said he, "you are the servant of that gentleman in theold gray doublet?"

  "Yes, your worship, even so," answered Longpole. "My honoured masteralways wears gray; for when he is not in gray cloth, he goes in grayiron; and as to its being old, better an old friend than a new foe."

  "And who is your master? I should like to hear," asked the gentleman.

  "Lord! does not your worship know?" demanded Longpole, giving a merryglance round the crowd, that stood already well disposed to laugh atwhatever he should say. "Bless you, sir! my master's the gentlemanthat beat Gog and Magog in single fight, slew seventy crocodiles ofthe Nile before breakfast, and played at pitch and toss with the crampbones of an elephant's hind leg. For heaven's sake, don't anger him:he'd eat a score such as you at a mouthful!"

  "Come, fellow, no insolence, if you mind not to taste the stirrupleather," cried the other, enraged at the tittering of the menials."You and your master both give yourselves too great airs."

  "'Ods life, your worship, we are not the only ones!" answeredLongpole. "Every Jack carries it as high as my lord, now-a-days; soI'll not be out o' the fashion."

  "You had better bid your master get a new doublet, then," said thegentleman of the second hall, with a look of vast contempt.

  "That your worship may have the old one?" asked Longpole, slily.

  What this might have produced it is impossible to say, for a mostinsupportable roar burst from the servants at Longpole's last thrust;but at that moment the chamberlain entered from the second hall, andbeckoned to the gentleman, who was no other than his cousin.

  "Take care what you say, William," whispered he; "that knight, withwhom I find Master Wilmotswood quarrelled about touching the armour,is some great man, depend on it. The duke sent me away, and then heembraced him, and hugged him, as he had been his brother; and the oldcontroller, who saw him go by, nods and winks, as if he knew who heis, and says that we shall see whether he does not dine at the firsttable, ay, and near his grace, too, for all his old gray doublet. Hastthou found out his name?"

  "No," replied the other. "His knave is as close as a walnut, and doesnot scruple to break his jests on any one, so I'll have no more ofhim."

  Their farther conversation was interrupted by a yeoman of the kitchenpresenting himself at the door of the hall, and a cry of "Sewers,sewers!" made itself heard, giving notice that the noon repast wasnearly ready to be placed upon the table. The scene was at oncechanged amongst the servants, and all was the bustle of preparation;the sewers running to serve the dinner, the yeomen of the hall and thebutler's men making speed to take their places in the banquet room,and the various pages and servants of different gentlemen residing inthe manor hurrying to wait on their masters at the table.

  In the midst of this, our friend Longpole felt some doubt what to do.Unacquainted with what had passed between his master and the duke, andeven whether the knight had made known his real rank or not, Longpoledid not well know where to bestow himself. "'Ods life!" said he, afterfidgeting for a moment on the thorns of uncertainty, "I'll e'en takemy chance, and go to the chief hall. I can but walk into the next, ifmy young master does not show himself soon. Ho! youngster," hecontinued to a page he saw running by, "which is the way to the lord'shall?"

  "Follow, follow, quick!" cried the boy; "I'm going there to wait formy Lord Abergany, and we are too late."

  Longpole lost no time, and arrived in the hall at the moment thecontroller was arranging the different servants round the apartment."Stand you here, Sir Charles Poynder's man; why go you higher than SirWilliam Cecil's? Sir William is a banneret. Harry Mathers, you keepthere. You, Jim, by that cupboard. And who are you? Who is yourmaster, tall fellow?" he continued, addressing Longpole.

  "Oh! the gentleman that is with the duke," cried several of theservants; "the gentleman that is with the duke."

  "Why, I know not where he will sit," said the controller; "but waitabout, and stand behind his chair. Now, are yon all ranged? Bid thetrumpets sound."

  A loud flourish gave notice to the sewers to serve, and to the variousguests to descend to the hall, when in a few minutes appeared LordAbergany and Lord Montague, and one by one dropped in Sir WilliamCecil, Sir Charles Poynder, and several other knights, who, after thevarious salutations of the morning, fell into groups of two and three,to gossip out the long five minutes which must pass while thecontroller informed the duke that the first dish was placed upon thetable.

  In the mean while honest Longpole stood by, too anxious to know thereception his lord had met with even to jest with those around him;but instead, he kept examining all the splendid scene, the rich clothof estate placed for the duke, the various cupboards of magnificentplate, the profusion of Venice glasses, and all the princelyfurnishing of the hall and table, with feelings nearly allied toapprehension. At length the voice of the controller was heard crying"The duke! the duke! Make way there for the duke!" and in a momentafter the Duke of Buckingham entered, leaning with familiar kindnesson the arm of the young knight.

  "My Lord Abergany," said the duke, "my son, and you, my Lord Montague,my excellent good friend, before we fall to the cheer that heaven hasgiven us, let me introduce to your love this much esteemed knight, SirOsborne Maurice, of a most noble stock, and what is better still,ennobled by his deeds: and now let us to table. Sir Osborne, you mustsit here on my right, so shall you enjoy the conversation of my LordAbergany, sitting next to you, and yet I not lose yours. Our chaplainis not here, yet let some holy man bless the meat. Lord Montague, youwill take my left."

  That profound silence now succeeded which ought always to attend soimportant an avocation as that of dining, and the whole worldlyattention of every one seemed fixed upon the progress of each dish,which being brought up in turn to the Duke of Buckingham, firstsupplied those immediately around him, and then gradually travellingdown the table from person to person, according to their rank, was atlength carried out by a servant into the second hall, where itunderwent the same perambulation, and was thence transferred to thethird. Here, however, its journeys did not cease; for after havingthus completed the grand tour, and become nearly a finished gentleman,the remnant was bestowed upon the paupers without.

  So different was the order of the dinner from that which we now holdorthodox, and so strange would it appear to the modern epicure, thatwere not such long descriptions insufferably tiresome, many curiouspages might be written to show how a roasted pig, disjointed by thecarvers without, was the first dish set upon the table; and also toevince the wisdom of beginning with the heavier food, such as beef,mutton, veal, and pork, and gradually drawing to the conclusion withcapons, herons, pigeons, rabbits, and other more delicate dishes.

  However, as our object is to proceed with our history as fast aspossible, we shall not stay to detail the various services, or todefend antiquity against
the prejudices of to-day: suffice it, that sogreat was the noble Duke of Buckingham's attention to his new guest,that Longpole, who stood behind to hand his master drink, threwforward his chest, and raised his head two inches higher thanordinary, as if all the stray beams of the great man's favour thatpassed by the knight lighted upon himself.

  The duke, indeed, strove generously to distinguish his young friend,feeling that misfortune has much greater claims upon a noble mind thansaucy prosperity. The marks of regard which he gave were such as, inthose days, might well excite the wonder of Lord Abergany, who satnext to him. He more than once carved for him himself, and twiceinvited him to drink; made him notice those dishes which were esteemedmost excellent, and spoke to him far more than was usual during thecourse of dinner.

  At length the last service appeared upon the table, consistingentirely of sweets. To use the words of Holingshed: "Gelaffes of allcolours, mired with a variety of representations of sundrie flowers,herbes, trees, forms of beasts, fish, fowls, and fruits, and thereuntomarchepaines wrought with no small curiosity; tarts of divers headsand sundrie denominations; conserves of old fruits, foreign andhomebred: sackets, codinals, marmalats, sugar-bread, ginger-bread,florentines, and sundrie outlandish confections, wherein the sweethand of the seafaring Portingal was not wanting."

  Now also came the finer sorts of wines: Muscadel, Romanie, andCaprike; and the more serious part of the banquet being over, theconversation became animated and interesting. The young knight, as astranger to all, as well as from the marked kindness of the duke, was,of course, a general object of attention; and as the guests easilyjudged him a traveller lately returned from abroad, many were thequestions asked him concerning the countries he had seen, and the warshe had been in.

  Tilts and tournaments then became the subject of discourse; and atlength the duke filled high a Venice glass with wine, and calling uponall to do the like, "Good gentlemen," said he, "'tis seldom thatBuckingham will stint his guests, but this is our last just now, for Iwould fain see a lance broken before night. I know not why, but methinks those sports and exercises, which are thus undertaken at amoment's notice, are often more replete with joy than those of longcontrivance; and here is a good knight, who will balk no man of hishumour, when 'tis to strike a strong blow, or to furnish a goodcourse. Sir Osborne, to your good health, and may all prosperity andsuccess attend you! Good lords and friends, join me in drinking hishealth."

  Sir Osborne expressed his willingness to do the duke any pleasure, andto furnish his course with any knight who thought him worthy of hislance. "But your grace knows," he continued, "that I have come herewithout arms, and that my horse I lost yesterday, as I explained toyou."

  "He would fain excuse himself the trouble," said the duke, smiling,"because we have no fair lady here to view his prowess; but, byheavens! I will have my will. Surely in my armoury there is a harnessthat may suit you, sir knight, and in my stables a steed that willbear you stoutly. My Lord of Montague, you are unarmed too; quick tothe armoury and choose you arms. Sir Osborne shall maintain the field,and furnish two courses against each comer. We have not time for more;and the horse and harness which the good knight wears shall be theprize. Ho! call here the armourer. He is a Fleming, most expert, andshall choose your suit, Sir Osborne."

  All now rose, and Lord Montague proceeded to the armoury to choose hisarms; while the duke, taking Sir Osborne and Lord Abergany into one ofthe recesses, spoke to them apart for some moments, the effect ofwhich, as it appeared, was, that the duke's kinsman embraced the youngknight heartily. While they were still speaking, the armourerappeared, and with a low reverence approached the duke.

  "Billenbach," said the duke, "thou hast an excellent eye, and canstsee to the size of a straw that a harness be well adjusted. Look atthis good knight, and search out amongst the finest suits in the manorone that may be convenient for him."

  "'Tis a damage, your grace," replied the armourer, with the sort ofbow a sledge-hammer might be supposed to make. "'Tis a great damagethat you are not at Thornbury, for there is the armour that would havewell harnessed him. The gelt armour that is all engrailed with gelt;made for a tall man and a strong, such as his worship: very big uponthe chest. Then there is the polished suit up stairs, which might suithim, but I doubt that the greaves be long enough, and I have takenaway the barbet and volant from the head-piece to give more light, and'twould take much time to fasten them on. There are none but the tensuits in the second hall: one of the tallest of them might do; butthen they are for your grace's own wear;" and he looked inquiringly atthe duke, as if he doubted whether he might not have offended bymentioning them.

  "Nay, nay, thou art right, Billenbach!" exclaimed the duke; "thefluted suit above all others! I am sure it will do. Call thy men, andfetch it here; we will arm him amongst us."

  The armourer obeyed; and in a few minutes returned with his menbearing the rich suit of fluted armour which had attracted theknight's attention in the hall. "Ha! Sir Osborne," said the duke, "doyou remember this armour? You were present when it was won; but yetyou were too young for that gay day to rest on your memory."

  "Nay, my good lord, not so," replied the knight; "I remember it well,and how gallantly the prize _was_ won. I doubt not it will fit me."

  "I feel full sure of it," said the duke, "and that you will fit it,for a better harness was never worn; and Surrey says, and I believe,there never was a better knight. Come! let us see; first, for thegreaves. Oh, admirable! Does the knee move free? But I see it must.Now the corslet: that will fit of course. How, fellow! you are puttingthe back piece before! The breast-plate! The breast-plate!"

  "This brassard is a little too close," said the knight. "If you loosenthat stud, good armourer, 'twill be better."

  "'Tis padded, good sir, near the elbow," said the man; "I will takeout the padding. Will your worship try the headpiece? Can you see whenthe barbet is down?"

  "Well enough to charge my lance," said the knight. "These arms areexquisite in beauty, my lord duke, yet very light."

  "There are none stronger in the world," said the duke, "and thereinlies the excellence. Though so light that one moves in them morefreely than in a coat of goldsmith's work, yet they are so welltempered, both by fire and water, and the juice of herbs, that thesword must be of fine steel indeed that will touch them."

  "One may see it by the polish that they keep," said the knight. "Ineach groove one may view oneself in miniature, as in a mirror. Theyare very beautiful!"

  "You must win them, my young soldier," whispered the duke. "Aberganyhas gone to arm, with Cecil and Montague; but I know their force. Andnow for the horses. The strongest in my stable, with his chanfron,snaffle-bit, manifaire, and fluted poitrel (which I have all, pointdevice corresponding with the suit), goes along as part of the prize.Billenbach! take the casque, put a little oil to the visor, and bringit to the lawn of the Four Oaks. See that the other gentlemen be toldthat we render ourselves there, where this knight will answer allcomers on horseback, and I will judge the field. Send plenty of lightlances; and as we have not time to put up lists, bid the porter bringseven men with staves to mark the space."

  Thus saying, the duke led the way towards the stable, speaking to theknight, as they went, of various matters which they had not discussedin the morning, and making manifold arrangements for concentrating allsorts of interest to produce that effect upon the mind of the kingwhich might lead to the fulfilment of Sir Osborne's hopes. Nor to theDuke of Buckingham, who was well acquainted with the character ofHenry, did the plan of the young knight seem unlikely to besuccessful. The sort of diffidence implied by concealing his name wasthat thing of all others calculated to win the monarch's good-will;and there was also a kind of romantic and chivalrous spirit in thescheme altogether, that harmonised well with the tastes of the king,who would fain have revived the days of the Round Table, not contentedwith even the wild, adventure-loving character of the times: and yet,heaven knows! those who read the history of the Chevalier Bayard, andthe memoirs of Fleurange, wi
ll find scenes and details recorded ofthose days which the novelist dare not venture to portray.

  Only one thing made the duke anxious in regard to his young _prot?ge_:the vast splendour and magnificence of the court of England. He sawthat the knight, accustomed alone to the court of Burgundy, wheremerit was splendour, and valour counted for riches, was totallyunaware of the thoughtless expense required by Henry. Sir Osborne had,indeed, informed him that in London he expected to receive from aFlemish merchant the ransom of a knight and three esquires, amountingin all, together with the value of their arms, to about three thousandFrench crowns, which the duke well knew would little more than pay forthe bard and base[5] of his first just; and yet he very evidentlyperceived it would be difficult to prevail upon him to accept of anypurely pecuniary assistance, especially as he had no time to lay aplan for offering it with any very scrupulous delicacy: Sir Osbornepurposing to depart after the beverage, or three o'clock meal.

  "Now, Osborne," said the duke familiarly, after they had seen theirhorses properly accoutred, and were proceeding towards the place ofrendezvous; "now you are once more armed at all points, and fit toencounter the best knight in the land; but we must have that tallfellow who serves you armed too, as your custrel, and mounted; for asyou are a knight, and certainly errant, I intend to put you upon anadventure; but here come the counterparty. No one but Cecil will runyou hard. I last year gave a harness and a purse of a thousand marksas a prize, which Cecil had nearly won from Surrey. But you must win!"

  "I will do my best, your grace," replied the knight, "both for thehonour of your grace's friendship, and for this bright suit, which intruth I covet. To break two spears with all comers? I think your gracesaid that was my task. And if I keep the field with equal successagainst all----"

  "Of course you win the prize," interposed the duke. "And if any othergentleman make as good points as yourself, you furnish two morecourses with him to decide. But here we are. Well, my lords, thehorses will be here before the ground be marked. I stand by, and willbe an impartial judge."

  It is not easy to imagine, in these times, how the revenues of thatage could support the nobles in the sort of unbounded expense in theirhouses which has made _Old English hospitality_ a proverbialexpression; but it is nevertheless a certain fact, that from fifty tosixty persons commonly sat to dinner each day in the various halls ofevery wealthy peer. The boards of those who, like Buckingham,maintained a more than princely splendour, were generally much betterfurnished with guests; and when he looked round the spot that had beenappointed for their morning's amusement, and beheld not more than ahundred lookers-on, all of whom had fed at his own tables, he feltalmost disappointed at the scantiness of spectators. "We have moreguests at Thornbury," said he; "and yet, porter, you do not keep theground clear. Gentlemen, these four oaks are the bounds; I pray you donot come within. Here are our chargers."

  The fine strong horse which Buckingham had chosen for the young knightwas now led up, harnessed as if for war; and before mounting, SirOsborne could not refrain from walking round to admire him, as hestood pawing the ground, eager to show his speed. The young knight'sheart beat high, and laying his left hand on the neck, he sprang atonce from the ground into the saddle; while the very clang of his newarmour, and the feeling of being once more equipped as he was wont,gave him new life, and hope, and courage.

  Ordered by a whisper from the duke, the groom beckoned Longpole fromthe ground, and the armourer, taking the shield and lance, presentedthem to the young knight at the end of the course. A note or two wasnow sounded by the trumpet, and Lord Abergany offered himself onhorseback opposite to Sir Osborne, who paused a moment to observe ifhe charged his lance at the head-piece or the shield, that, out ofcompliment to the duke's relation, he might follow his example.

  "Spur, spur, Sir Osborne!" cried the duke, who stood near; "Aberganycomes."

  The knight struck his spurs into the charger's sides; the horse dartedforward, and the spear, aimed low, struck the fess point of LordAbergany's shield, and splintered up to the vantplate in Sir Osborne'shand; at the same moment Lord Abergany's broke upon the young knight'sbreast; and suddenly wheeling their chargers, they regained theopposite ends of the lawn.

  The second lance was broken nearly in the same manner; with only thisdifference, that Sir Osborne, having now evinced his respect for hisopponent, aimed at the head-piece, which counted a point more.

  Lord Montague now succeeded, laughing good-humouredly as he rodetowards his place, and bidding Sir Osborne aim at his head, for itwas, he said, the hardest part about him. The knight did as he wasdesired, and broke his spear twice on the very charnel of his helmet.It being now Sir William Cecil's turn, each knight charged his speardirectly towards the other's head, and galloping on, both lances wereshivered to atoms.

  "Gallantly done! gallantly done!" cried the Duke of Buckingham, thoughhe began to feel some little anxiety lest the knight banneret mightcarry off the prize, which he had fully intended for Sir Osborne."Gallantly done! to it again, gentle knights."

  The spears were now once more delivered, and setting out as before,each struck the other's head-piece; but Sir William Cecil's, touchingobliquely, glanced off, while that of Sir Osborne was againsplintered.

  "Give me your voices, gentlemen all!" cried the duke, turning to thespectators. "Who has the day? Sir Osborne Maurice, I say."

  "Sir Osborne! Sir Osborne!" cried a dozen voices; but one person, noother than he who had thought fit to quarrel with the knight abouttouching the very armour he now wore, could not forbear vociferatingthe name of Sir William Cecil, although, fearful of the duke's eye, hetook care to keep back behind the rest while he did so.

  "Some one says Sir William Cecil!" cried the duke, both surprised andangry. "What say you yourself, Sir William?"

  "I say, Sir Osborne Maurice," replied the banneret surlily, "becausemy lance slipped; but had it not, I think I should have unseated him."

  "He is not easily unseated," said the duke, "if report speak true.However, the prize is yours, Sir Osborne. Yet, because one voice hasdiffered from my judgment, if you two knights will furnish one morecourse for my satisfaction, I will give a thousand marks for the beststroke."

  "Your grace knows that I must soon depart," said Sir Osborne; "but,nevertheless, I am quite willing, if this good knight be so, for I amsure his lance slipped merely by accident."

  "Oh! I am very willing!" cried Sir William Cecil, somewhat sharply. "Athousand marks, your grace says?"

  "Ay, sir," replied the duke, "I do."

  "'Tis a tough prize!" cried Sir William; "so give me a tough ashspear."

  "To me the same!" cried Sir Osborne Maurice, not exactly pleased withthe tone of his opponent. "'Tis for the best stroke."

  At this moment Longpole appeared, completely armed by Buckingham'scommand, as a custrel, or shield-bearer; and hearing his master'sdemand, he searched amongst the spears till he met with one that hispractised eye, long used in his quality of fletcher, or arrow-maker,to select the hardest woods, instantly perceived was excellent, andbore it himself to the knight. The trumpet sounded; both gallopedforward, and Sir William Cecil's lance, aimed as before at theknight's casque, struck hard: but Sir Osborne was as immoveable as arock; and though of firm, solid wood, the spear shivered. Not so SirOsborne's; borne forward by a steady, unerring hand, it struck SirWilliam Cecil's head-piece just under the crest, wrenched away thecrest and plume, and still catching against the ironwork, bore himbackwards upon the croupiere, and thence with his horse to the ground;for though Sir Osborne pulled in his rein as soon as he could, it wasnot before the weight of his charger had overborne that of hisopponent, and thrown him far back upon his haunches.

  The servants of Sir William ran up to disentangle him; and finding himconsiderably hurt by the fall, they bore him away to his apartments inthe manor.

  In the mean while the duke and his friends were not scanty of thepraises which they bestowed upon the young knight; and indeed theremight be some sensation of pleasure at Ceci
l's overthrow, mingled withtheir approbation of Sir Osborne; for though a good soldier and anhonourable man, the banneret was overbearing in society with hisequals, and insupportably proud towards those of an inferior rank, sothat all the servants winked to each other as he was borne past,taking no pains to conceal their pleasure in his humiliation.

  "I am sorry that Sir William Cecil is hurt," said the knight,springing off his horse: "On, Longpole, after his men, and discoverwhat is his injury."

  "'Tis no great matter," said Lord Abergany, "and it will do Cecil noharm that his pride is lowered; for in truth, he has lately becomebeyond all endurance vain. He spoke of quelling the mutiny of theshipwrights at Rochester as if his single arm were capable of doingmore than Lord Thomas and all his company. Well, fellow!" he continuedto Longpole, who now returned, "what hurt has Sir William?"

  "Why, please your lordship," replied he, "he is neither whole beatennor whole strangled, but a little of both; for his casque has proved acudgel, and given him a bloody nose; and his gorget a halter, and halfhanged him."

  "A merry knave!" said the duke. "Come, Sir Osborne, half-an-hour stillrests before our beverage; that you shall bestow upon me, when youhave taken off your casque. Gentlemen, amuse yourselves till three,when we will rejoin you in the hall."

  Thus saying, the duke again led the way to his closet, and concludedall his arrangements with the young knight with the same generosity offeeling and delicacy of manner which had characterised all the rest ofhis conduct towards him. The prize Sir Osborne had won he paid to himas a mere matter of course, taking every means to conceal that it hadbeen offered merely that he might win it. But he also exacted apromise, that whenever the young knight was in London, he would usehis beautiful manor-house of the Rose, in St. Lawrence Pountney, as ifit were his own, and furnished him with a letter which gave himtherein unlimited command over whomsoever and whatsoever it contained.

  "And now," continued Buckingham, "let us speak, my young friend, ofthe means of introducing you to the king, without my appearing in it,for I am not well beloved of the butcher-begotten cardinal. My cousin,the abbot of the Benedictines, near Canterbury, writes me this morningthat his sister, the lady abbess, a most holy and devout woman, haswith her, even now, a young lady of high station, a woman of thequeen's, one Mistress Katherine Bulmer, who has lately been there tovisit and cheer her relation the abbess, who has somewhat sufferedfrom a black melancholy that all her holy piety can hardly cure; andalso, as he hints, perhaps to tame down the young damsel's own lightspirits, which, it may be, soar a pitch too high. However, the timehas come that the queen calls for her lady, and the abbess must sendher back; but this mutiny of the shipwrights at Rochester puts thegood devotees in fear; and they must needs ask me, with an '_if I besending that way_,' to let the lady journey to the court at Greenwichunder escort of any of my retainers or friends. If you undertake thecharge, our most excellent Queen Katherine will surely give you herbest thanks, and make you know the king; and the mutiny of theshipwrights, who are still in arms, will be a full reason and excusewhy you should ride armed. Three of my servants shall accompany you.Say, does this proposal please you? Will you accept it?"

  "With many thanks!" replied the knight. "Your grace is ever kind andthoughtful for your poor friend's good."

  "Your father once saved my life," answered the duke, "and I wouldalmost give that life again to see him what he was. See, here is theletter to the lord abbot. Let us now back to our friends, or they willthink we are plotting treason. Do you favour the bad habit ofbeverages? No? then we will drain one cup ere you mount, and bid youfarewell."

  The duke now led to the hall, called for a cup of wine, and thenpledging the young knight, together with Lord Abergany and LordMontague, conducted him to his horse, notwithstanding the oppositionwhich he made to so marked an honour.

  "'S life!" cried Lord Montague, seeing him still armed: "Are you goingto ride in harness? Three of his grace's servants armed too! Why youare surely going to deliver some captive damsel from the power of abase ravager."

  "Your lordship is not far wrong," replied the knight, springing on hishorse. "But as it is a secret adventure put upon me by the noble duke,him you must ask if you would hear more."

  "Oh, the history! the history! I pray thee, most princely Buckingham?"cried Lord Montague. "But the knight gallops off with his fellow, whomhe calls Longpole; but I doubt me much that both Longpole and OsborneMaurice at times bear other names. Ha! my lord duke? Well, well! Keepyour secret; nothing like a little romance. He seems a noble heart,whoever he be."

  With this speech the whole party turned into the mansion; thegenerous-hearted duke congratulating himself on having thus foundmeans to furnish his old friend's son with money and arms, and layingstill farther plans for rendering him more extensive and permanentservice, and the two lords very well pleased with the littleexcitement which had broken in upon the sameness of their usualmorning amusements.