_CHAPTER VI_.
_THE COURT FOOL_.
Scarcely was the Emperor installed in the fortress, when the Germanlevies began to come in, and Frederic was extremely gratified by thearrival of several bishops, whose presence, he hoped, would lend greatmoral strength to his cause, although they came, not as messengers ofpeace, but in complete armor, and attended by well-appointed troops.Foremost among the temporal chiefs were Henry the Lion, Duke of Saxonyand Bavaria, next to Barbarossa himself, the most powerful prince ofthe Empire; Leopold, Duke of Bohemia; and the mighty counts of Dachau,d'Andech's and d'Abenberg. Duke Henry of Austria had not yet arrived,although his army stood close at hand in the defiles of the Alps.
In the immense plain before the castle a vast camp rose, as if bymagic. Over the white tents fluttered the pennons of the knights, andbefore the pavilions of the princes were hoisted their severalstandards, rich in gold and silver embroidery. Through the canvasstreets pressed a gay crowd in rich dresses and shining armor, whileknights surrounded by their brilliant retinues, rode in everydirection.
In the middle of the camp stood the Imperial pavilion, and toward it,as to a common centre, seemed to tend all the varied parts of thestrange tumult.
Meanwhile a sad spectacle might have been witnessed before the gates ofthe fortress, distant a thousand paces from the camp. From the openpostern of the huge round tower, which formed the principal salient ofthe fortification, Bonello was being led out to execution. The threedays' respite had expired, and the certainty of his speedy death,joined to the sorrow that he had not yet seen his child, had left uponthe prisoner's face traces of deep anguish. His trembling knees couldscarcely support him as he followed the jailers who were conducting himto the scaffold from which hung the fatal knot.
The condemned man made every effort to meet his fate with courage, butwhen, a few steps from the gallows, the executioner seized the rope,all his fortitude deserted him, and he halted.
"What is the matter now," cried the brutal soldier who commanded theescort. "Until now you have given proofs of bravery; do you tremble atthe sight of a piece of hemp?"
Bonello raised his head, and with tears in his eyes, in a voice chokingwith emotion, replied,--
"I do not fear to die, but--oh! my child, my darling child!"
And he covered his face with his hands.
"What serves this everlasting whimper about your child; yesterday wasyour day, but you got a reprieve by your lamentations; but we can'twait any longer; so come and be hanged at once!"
"You are a fool, cousin," cried a shrill voice; "do you think any onewill let himself be hung, if he can help it?"
The executioner turned and glanced angrily at the speaker; a small man,almost a dwarf in stature, with intelligent features and eyes beamingwith malice, he was dressed in the garb of a jester, and wore on hishead a bright scarlet cap with asses' ears. Both cap and jacket werecovered with a great number of little bells, which rang merrily withevery movement. He was seated on a stone, his chin resting on hishands, and laughing ironically in the face of the enraged soldier.
"Hold your tongue," said the latter, "or I'll hang you too by theears."
"Do you want to get me out of the way for my fool's bauble?" said thejester, in the same careless tone. "I warn you if you aspire to be mysuccessor, you will have to prove that there are more brains in yourhead than there are in a pumpkin. You are making a poor beginning,cousin Hesso, or you would not hang this miserable wretch so early inthe morning."
"The man must be hung now, because his time has come!" said Hesso,furiously. But the arms of Henry the Lion, which were embroidered onthe jester's coat, prevented any violence on his part.
"You would be right, if you were not such a liar," replied the fool."Your long ears heard the Emperor say yesterday, 'Let him be hungto-morrow!' What was true then, will be equally so fourteen hourshence. Till then the poor devil's time is his own."
Hesso hesitated for an instant, but the idea that he should suffer theinterference of a court fool to delay an execution, was enough toput him beside himself with rage. Turning towards the prisoner, hecried,--
"Enough of this; fasten up the traitor to the gibbet!"
The assistants obeyed, and already the noose was around the prisoner'sneck, when, with a sudden spring, and before the executioner couldinterfere, the jester drew a knife from his belt, and cut the rope.
"What means this!" exclaimed Hesso.
"Thwarted! thwarted," cried the fool; "don't you see! cousin mine, thatthis man has not yet been to confession? The head and the body of thepoor devil belong to you and the crows, but neither you, nor yourfriend Beelzebub, have any right over his soul! Let this man firstcomply with his duties as a Christian!"
"By Satan! what's that to me? Here, you men, tie a new knot, and hangup the traitor at once!"
"Then you will be hung too, cousin," said the jester. "Would you reallydare to execute a man without confession? I came here to witness thedeath of a bandit, but not to see the devil steal his soul! If you haveany respect for your own life, cousin, you will put off the businessuntil I bring here a monk, or a bishop, or if needs, the Pope himself!"This said, he rushed toward the encampment.
Hesso bit his lips sullenly, but he knew the positive order whichexisted, that no one was to be put to death, without first receivingthe succors of religion.
"Lead the prisoner back to his dungeon," said he, "until the fool andthe priest have finished their task."
The jester stopped before a tent whose splendid appearance denoted theprincely rank of its occupant. In front of the entrance floated abanner on which were blazoned the arms and bearings of episcopaldignity. Upon the threshold stood a man, evidently of high rank, gazingidly at the busy movement of the camp. He wore a long tunic,magnificently embroidered on the cuffs and collar; his hands sparkledwith rings of gold and precious stones; his expression was engaging,and he smiled cordially as the fool approached.
"I'm in luck!" cried the jester; "I was only looking for a monk, andI've stumbled on a prelate in all his glory."
"What do you want, rascal?"
"To save a soul from Satan, cousin Adelbert! There is a poor fellownear here who is going to be hanged; he is still in the bonds of sin,and I want you to come out and cut them, so that he can spring from thegallows straight into Abraham's bosom!"
"But, Lanzo," replied Adelbert, "don't you perceive that I have neithersword nor dagger in my belt."
"Oh! cousin, your tongue is sharp enough of itself. Come with me!"
"What! a prelate follow a fool! Rogue, you ought to be flogged."
"Well then! let the prelate lead the way. I warrant he will not losethe trail."
"Whom do you mean?"
"Why, the prelate, of course."
"And of whose trail do you speak?"
"Zounds! Why, the fool's, to be sure! you look very much like me,cousin, although your cap has no ears, for your surcoat is nearly asmotley as mine."
"Leave me instantly!" said Adelbert.
"You are willing, then, to leave this poor wretch to Satan."
"Yes, beyond doubt; and you with him! Find a monk, if you can."
"Hey?--Well, I am learning something new every day," said Lanzo,ironically. "I never thought before, that a monk was worth more than aprelate; but I'll remember in future.--Ah, I am in luck, here comes amonk!--two of them.--I may say three, instead of one!" he cried, asseveral monks dismounted and approached the tent.
They were dusty and travel-stained, and apparently fatigued with a longjourney; the eldest addressed the prelate, while his companions stoodon one side in an attitude of deep humility.
"Deign to pardon my boldness," said he, after the usual greetings; "wehave just arrived in your camp, and seek a friendly shelter. Our rulesprescribe the greatest discretion; but, in these troublous times, it isno longer an easy task to hold our pastoral office. Perhaps, yourExcellency will deign to offer us an humble place beneath your t
ent?"
But the modest request seemed to irritate the prelate. He drew himselfup, proudly, and glanced disdainfully upon the speaker, as he replied,sharply,--
"The tent of a bishop is not an inn for mendicant friars."
"If you want to keep company with bishops, or priors, or even canons,holy father," said Lanzo, "you must wear a _pelisse_ of _sables_, andlet the hair grow on your shaven poll."
"Would you be kind enough," said the embarrassed monk, turning to thejester, "would you be kind enough to use your influence with this noblegentleman. We are messengers from the Archbishop Everard of Salzburg."
"What!" sneered Adelbert. "Monks acting as the envoys of an archbishop?Has your master no abbot or canon at the head of his chapter? Yourcowls are out of place amid the splendors of a court! I warn you thatHis Majesty has little love for your cloth, and he is right."
"Ah!" exclaimed Lanzo, "if my cousin Barbarossa could only use themonks as train-bearers and courtiers for his pet Pope, we would soonhave little need for bishops and canons!"
With an angry look at the jester, Adelbert re-entered the tent. Themonks seemed greatly embarrassed. Their scornful reception was the moremortifying, because it was the first visit which they had ever paid tothe high dignitaries of the Church.
"Be of good cheer, sons of Saint Benedict," said Lanzo; "on the word ofa fool, I promise you comfortable lodgings and a hearty meal! But youmust do me a service in return!"
"Most gladly, my son," replied the monk.
"Come with me then, I'll show you the way," said Lanzo, and they leftthe spot, followed by the others, leading their horses.
"You merely ask me to perform a pious duty," said the priest, whenLanzo had explained the affair; "had we not better go at once to thepoor wretch?"
"There is no need of haste," replied Lanzo. "They dare not hang him,until he has confessed and received absolution. You need fear norivalry in the matter, either; for my cousin Barbarossa hates yourfraternity, and will not allow a monk within the limits of the camp. Sothat we have no one here, save prelates in velvet and ermine, who willhave nothing to do with a confession.--Holloa, there, you idlers, makeway for honest people!" cried the jester, striking with his cap a crowdof servants who were blocking up the entrance to a narrow street.
Close at hand, in the middle of an open square, stood the tent of Henrythe Lion, and behind were the lodgings of his suite and the stables fortheir horses.
"Here, Balderich!" said the jester to one of the servants, "take theseanimals to the stables, and feed them well."
And, as the varlet led away the horses, Lanzo conducted the monks tohis own tent, where he offered them some food and wine.
"I am aware," said he, "that you abstain from meat; but, with the bestwill in the world, I cannot give you any fish, although there is plentyof it in camp."
The monks said their _benedicite_ and ate what was set before them.
"Will you not change your dress, Father Conrad?" asked one of them, ofhim who seemed the superior.
"Not yet, my son," replied Conrad; "for the present it will suffice toshake off the dust."
"Whilst the monks were attending to the needs of their chief, the foolexamined intently the imposing figure of his guest, as though seekingto guess at his identity.
"My son!" said he to the monk, "if those are your children, you must betheir father?"
"Certainly! friend Lanzo."
"Then, may Heaven forgive me, for I have led a worthy abbot to the tentof a fool."
"You see how deceitful appearances sometimes are," replied the abbot,with a smile.
"Yes!--yes. Henceforth I'll go blindfold, and open my ears wider thanever, to see better what lies before me. But now, my lord Abbot,whenever it may please you, we can set out on our mission. As to you,my holy friends and worthy guests, during our absence comfortyourselves with what is before you; the ham comes from the Duke's owntable, and the wine from his cellars."
And Lanzo and the Abbot left the tent.
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