by Knox Magee
CHAPTER XX
BEFORE THE TOURNAMENT
Angry were the people with Richard for his savage murder of the youngand rightful King. Discontent and a proper desire to punish thecriminal for his act were discernible in the sullen manner in which theUsurper was received where'er he went among them. Scowls, and notresounding cheers, greeted him as he passed through the streets ofLondon, as was his almost daily habit.
Richard was not slow to comprehend the cause, and see what should bethe outcome, of this unpopularity, were it permitted to take a firmerroot in the minds of the people.
Some people, I know, contend that the best plan for killing discontentand opposition is to notice them not and they, in time, will realizetheir insignificance, and die by cold neglect. To me this seemeth buta poor device for ridding one of that which doth torment him. Methinksit is like the neglecting of a weed, in the hope that it will come tobe disheartened by reason of its lack of opposition and wither up anddie. To my poor way of thinking 'tis better, far, to remove the weed,with all its roots intact.
Richard was evidently of the same way of thinking; for he at onceproceeded to remove this opposing growth, with all expediency.Subsequent events shall show whether or no the roots came with thestalk and leaves. To accomplish his purpose it was necessary for himto please the people and gain their affection. The most easy anddirect way to do this was to, in some manner, contribute to theirhappiness. In what way could this be so well accomplished as byappealing to the warlike spirit of England, by holding a grandtournament. Ever hath it been the custom of our country's rulers tohold these martial gatherings whenever the good will of all classes isdesired. Richard was not slow to follow the example of hispredecessors. Therefore was it given out that our generous-heartedSovereign, to in some small way show his appreciation of the honourdone him by the people when they reposed the trust of England's crownwith him, would straight-way give the grandest exhibition of all formsof war-like skill that ever England gazed with wondering eyes upon.
Catesby, who had been absent from court ever since the Usurper'scoronation, on some business of Richard's (for now he seemed to be toRichard the properest man, though to all others a scoundrel) about thistime returned. For this, my dears, I was truly pleasured; for dearlydid I then desire an opportunity to be revenged on him for his insultto Hazel. I was determined that nothing should now prevent ourmeeting; for if he did not willingly enter for the contests I wouldopenly challenge him to fight, the which to refuse, as ye all do know,would stamp him as a coward throughout all Christendom. This I knewwell he would not bear; for Catesby, no matter what his failings were,was no physical coward.
Long seemed the time whilst we, with the spirit of impatience, werewaiting for the tournament.
Hazel and I planned and decided on my making some excuse and leavingthe court of Richard, so soon as the jousts should be ended. Settledown we would and live in peace and quiet within our happy home, farfrom the strife and intrigue of the court. 'Tis true I did not promiseto lay aside the sword and shield forever. On the contrary, faithfullydid I promise the ex-Queen to aid her party when the proper timearrived. And, besides, I had an oath to be fulfilled.
No longer could I bear to serve the murderous tyrant, even for mineends. Indeed he treated me with great civility and some consideration.Yet ever would there rise before my memory's eye the traitorous sceneat Stony Stratford. 'Twas when Richard smiled I feared him most.Beware, my children, of a man who smileth on ye all too frequently.Such men are seldom to be trusted. Never did I fall asleep without thefear ahaunting me that I should never gaze upon the sun again; but thatthe three which murdered our young King would rid our present ruler ofone which visited Elizabeth; for no hope of mine could be so sanguineas to cause me to believe that I had thus far escaped Richard'sever-watchful eye.
At length the day before the commencement of the tournament camearound, and knights and squires all were busy with the work ofpreparation.
The place chosen by the King for the holding of the joust was justbeyond the city's gates, between London and Westminster, and in thedirection of the setting sun, that cast its fiery rays along the bosomof the earth, that it might point out to each separate champion thelevelest spot for the pitching of his tent. Where'er the ground hadreceived a wound, and the scar remained, the King of Day, as he settleddown to rest, did paint the surrounding turf and leave a darker spotupon the earth, to guide the warrior's servants from their putting uphis canvas house.
My friend and I both occupied the one tent, which was both high andbroad.
My faithful Michael, and our other servants, bustled about inpreparation for the morrow's work.
Pennons and streamers of England's noblest sons now floated on theevening flower-scented breeze, which bore in its fairy arms the soundsof the armourer's anvils, as the men worked, putting on some finecompleting touches. Some of these pleasant and familiar sounds wereworn to such a thinness as to scarcely have existence, they havingtravelled from the far end of the field and, in their flight, visitedthe ears of many knights and squires who, fond of this sweet martialmusic, consumed a part each one. Others there were ranging in bodilystrength until they reached a rich, full ring, proceeding from beforeour own tent door, where our armourers examined the suits given us bythe late King Edward, and which had never since been tested with thelance.
The sun at length sank beneath the floor of earth, and the windows ofHeaven began to throw forth their each particular ray of light. As wesat there, watching those far away, twinkling points, I could notrefrain from wondering why the Saints and Angels there all seem so busyin the still night time; as can be seen by their passing and repassingof the windows, in never ceasing numbers, each casting a fleetingshadow as he goes. As the light on earth kept fading, more shades inHeaven were drawn aback, as though the kindly folk up there would lendto us more cheer.
Then the pale and trouble-featured moon raised up her hairless headabove the earth's surface, and slowly climbed she up the Heaven's arch.
As the sounds of the armourers and the grooms died out, the nightingaledid make his voice more plainly heard, as he hurled down, from hisperch beside the field, upon our ears, his darts of Heaven's own joy.Aslanting did the music come, as borne by the gentle evening breeze itfell, like April's rain, into our ears and drenched our hearts withsweetness.
The wide-eyed frogs, far from the field, as they sat on their floatingthrones, flung, from their baggy throats, at the stars, as countless asthemselves, their quavering coward-challenges of battle. Yet no doubtthese were as well meant as some we should hear to-morrow.
The moon now stood well up the sky and therefore, when the flap wasclosed a trifle, shone not far back into the tent.
The nightingale had ceased to sing.
The frogs still hurled their insolence.
Frederick and I, who had been in silence sitting for some time, aroseand walked back under our covering. Michael followed, and, when we hadlaid down, stretched his huge frame across the opening. How like alifeless statue there he lay; his arms locked o'er his chest. 'Twasseven feet of Hercules, as broad as two good men. Gazing at thispicture of strength and loyalty, the latter shown in his firm-cut,honest face, with our shields beneath our heads, my friend and I sankinto sleep.