A Monk of Fife

by Various

  CHAPTER X--HOW NORMAN LESLIE WAS OUT OF ALL COMFORT

  My brethren the good Benedictine Fathers here in Pluscarden Priory, arewont betimes to be merry over my penitents, for all the young lads andlasses in the glen say they are fain to be shriven by old Father Normanand by no other.

  This that my brethren report may well be true, and yet I take no shame inthe bruit or "fama." For as in my hot youth I suffered sorrows many fromlove, so now I may say, like that Carthaginian queen in Maro, "miserissuccurrere disco." The years of the youth of most women and men are likea tourney, or jousts courteous, and many fall in the lists of love, andmany carry sorer wounds away from Love's spears, than they wot of who dobut look on from the safe seats and secure pavilions of age. Though allmay seem but a gentle and joyous passage of arms, and the weapons thatthey use but arms of courtesy, yet are shrewd blows dealt and woundstaken which bleed inwardly, perchance through a whole life long. Tomedicine these wounds with kind words is, it may be, part of my poorskill as a healer of souls in my degree, and therefore do the youngresort to Father Norman.

  Some confessors there be who laugh within their hearts at these sorrowsof lovers, as if they were mere "nugae" and featherweights: others thereare who wax impatient, holding all love for sin in some degree, andforgetting that Monseigneur St. Peter himself was a married man, anddoubtless had his own share of trouble and amorous annoy when he waswinning the lady his wife, even as other men. But if I be of any avail(as they deem) in the healing of hearts, I owe my skill of that surgeryto remembrance of the days of my youth, when I found none to give mecomfort, save what I won from a book that my master had in hand to copyand adorn, namely, "The Book of One Hundred Ballades, containing Counselto a Knight, that he should love loyally"; this counsel offered byMessire Lyonnet de Coismes, Messire Jehan de Mailly, the Sieur d'Yvry,and many other good knights that were true lovers. Verily, in sermons ofpreachers and lives of holy men I found no such comfort.

  Almost the sorest time of my sorrowing was for very grief of heart whenElliot set forth on pilgrimage to Puy en Velay, for we were but newlycome together; "twain we were with one heart," as a maker sang whom onceI met in France ere I came back to Scotland; sweetly could he make, butwas a young clerk of no godly counsel, and had to name Maitre FrancoysVillon. Our heart was one, the heart of Elliot and mine own, and lo!here, in a day, it was torn asunder and we were set apart by the wisdomof men.

  I remember me how I lay wakeful on the night before the day when Elliotshould depart. Tossing and turning, I lay till the small fowls brakeforth with their songs, and my own thought seemed to come and go, andcome again in my head, like the "ritournelle" of the birds. At last Imight not endure, but rose and attired myself very early, and so wentdown into the chamber. Thither presently came Elliot, feigning wonder tofind me arisen, and making pretence that she was about her housewiferies,but well I wot that she might sleep no more than I. The old housewifecoming and going through the room, there we devised, comforting eachother with hopes and prayers; indeed we sorely wanted comfort, becausenever till we were wed, if ever that should be, might we have such solaceof each other's presence as we desired. Then I brought from the workshopa sheet of vellum and colours, and the painting tools, and so fashioned alittle picture of her, to wear within the breast of my doublet. A rudething it was and is, for what gold, however finely handled, could matchwith her golden hair, whereof, at my desire, she gave me a lock; and ofall worldly gear from my secular life, these and the four links of mymother's chain alone are still mine, and where my heart is there is mytreasure. And she, too, must clip a long curl of my hair, for as yet itwas not cut "en ronde," as archers use to wear it, but when she cameagain, she said she would find me shrewdly shaven, and then would love meno longer. Then she laughed and kissed me, and fell to comforting me forthat she would not be long away.

  "And in three months or four," she said, "the King will be sacred atRheims, and the Maid will give you red wine to drink in Paris town, andthe English will be swept into the sea, and then we shall have peace andabundance."

  "And then shall we be wedded, and never part," I cried; whereat sheblushed, bidding me not be over bold, for her heart might yet change, andso laughed again; and thus we fleeted the time, till her father came andsent her about disposing such things as she must take with her. Amongthese she was set on carrying her jackanapes, to make her merry on theroad, though here I was of another counsel. For in so great a gatheringthere must be many gangrel folk, and among them, peradventure, the violerwoman, who would desire to have the creature given back to her. But, ifit were so, Elliot said she would purchase the jackanapes, "for I am nolifter of other men's cattle, as all you Scots are, and I am fain to ownmy jackanapes honestly."

  So she carried him with her, the light chain about her wrist, and heriding on her saddle-bow, for presently, with many banners waving andwith singing of hymns, came the troop who wended together on pilgrimage.Many townsfolk well armed were there to guard their women; the flags ofall the crafts were on the wind; the priests carried blessed banners; sowith this goodly company, and her confessor, and her father's oldkinswoman, Elliot rode away. The jackanapes was screeching on her saddle-bow, her yellow hair was lifted on her shoulder with the light breeze;her father rode the first two stages with them. Merry enough they seemedthat went, and the bells were chiming, but I was left alone, my heartempty, or only full of useless longings. I betook myself, therefore, toa chapel hard by, and there made my orisons for their safety and for goodspeed to the Maid and her holy enterprise.

  Thereafter there was no similitude for me and my unhappy estate, savethat of a dog who has lost his master in a strange place, and goesquesting everywhere, and comfortless. Then Randal Rutherford, coming tovisit me, found me such a lackmirth, he said, and my wits so distraught,that a love-sick wench were better company for a man-at-arms.

  "Cheer up, man," he said. "Look at me, did I not leave my heart atBranxholme Mains with Mally Grieve, and so in every town where I havebeen in garrison, and do you see me cast down? Off with this greensickness, or never will you have strength to march with the Maid, wherethere is wealth to be won, and golden coronets, and gaudy stones, such asSaunders Macausland took off the Duke of Clarence at Bauge. Faith,between the wound Capdorat gave you and this arrow of Dan Cupid's in yourheart, I believe you will not be of strength to carry arms till there isnot a pockpudding left in broad France. Come forth, and drain a pot ortwo of wine, or, if the leech forbids it, come, I will play you for allthat is owing between you and me."

  With that he lugged out his dice and fetched a tablier, but presentlyvowed that it was plain robbery, for I could keep no count of the game.Therewith he left me, laughing and mocking, and saying that I had beenbolder with Robin Lindsay's lass.

  Being alone and out of all comfort, I fell to wandering in the workroom,and there lit, to my solace, on that blessed book of the hundredballades, which my master was adorning with pictures, and with scarlet,blue, and gold. It set forth how a young knight, in sorrow of love, wasriding between Pont de Ce and Angiers, and how other knights met him andgave him counsel. These lines I read, and getting them by rote, tookthem for my device, for they bid the lover thrust himself foremost in thepress, and in breach, mine, and escalade.

  S'en assault viens, devant te lance, En mine, en eschielle, en tous lieux Ou proesce les bons avance, Ta Dame t'en aimera mieux.

  But reading soon grew a weariness to me, as my life was, and my mastercoming home, bade me be of better cheer.

  "By St. Andrew," quoth he, "this is no new malady of thine, but wellknown to leeches from of old, and never yet was it mortal! Remede thereis none, save to make ballades and rondels, and forget sorrow in huntingrhymes, if thou art a maker. Thou art none? Nay, nor ever was I, lad;but I have had this disease, and yet you see me whole and well. Come,lend me a hand at painting in these lilies; it passes not thy skill."

  So I wrought some work whereof I have reason to be proud, for theselilies were carried w
heresoever blows and honour were to be won, ay, andwhere few might follow them. Meanwhile, my master devised with me aboutsuch sights as he had seen on the way, and how great a concourse was onpilgrimage to Puy, and how, if prayers availed, the cause of France waswon; "and yet, in England too, wives are praying for their lords, andlasses for their lads in France. But ours is the better quarrel."

  So that weary day went by, one of the longest that I have known, andother days, till now the leech said that I might go back to the castle,though that I might march to the wars he much misdoubted. Among thearchers I had the best of greetings, and all quarrels were laid by, for,as was said, we were to set forth to Orleans, where would be blows enoughto stay the greediest stomach. For now the Maid had won all hearts,taking some with her piety, and others with her wit and knowledge, thatconfounded the doctors, how she, a simple wench, was so subtle indoctrine, which might not be but by inspiration. Others, again, weremoved by her mirth and good-fellowship, for she would strike a man-at-arms on the shoulder like a comrade, and her horsemanship and deftnesswith sword and lance bewitched others, she seeming as valiant and fair asthese lady crusaders of whom old romances tell. And others, again, shegained by bourdes and jests; others by her manners, the fairest and mostcourtly that might be, for she, a manant's daughter, bore herself as anequal before the blood of France, and was right dear to the young brideof the fair Duc d'Alencon. Yet was there about her such a grace ofpurity, as of one descended from the skies, that no man of them all wasso hardy as to speak to her of love, or even so much as to think thereofin the secret of his heart.

  So all reported of her, and she had let write a letter to the English atOrleans, bidding them yield to God and the Maid, and begone to their owncountry, lest a worse thing befall them. At this letter they mocked,swearing that they would burn her heralds who carried the message. Butthe King had named her chief of war, and given her a household, with agood esquire, Jean d'Aulon, to govern it, and all that beseems noble orroyal blood. New armour had been made for her, all of steel and silver,and there was talk of a sword that she had come by in no common way, butthrough revelation of the saints. For she being in Tours had it revealedto her that a certain ancient sword, with five crosses on the blade, layburied behind the altar of St. Catherine of Fierbois. An armourer ofTours was therefore sent thither, and after much labour and search theyof St. Catherine's Church found that sword, very ancient, and muchbestained with rust. Howbeit, they cleaned it and made for it a sheathof cloth of gold. Nevertheless, the Maid wore it in a leathern scabbard.