Chivalry

by James Branch Cabell

  De Gatinais sneered. "So that is the tale you will deliver to theworld?"

  "When I have slain you," the Prince said, "yes. Yes, since she is awoman, and woman is the weaker vessel."

  "The reservation is wise. For once I am dead, Messire Edward, therewill be none to know that you risk all for a drained goblet, for anorange already squeezed--quite dry, messire."

  "Face of God!" the Prince said.

  But de Gatinais flung back both arms in a great gesture, so that heknocked a flask of claret from the table at his rear. "I am candid, myPrince. I would not see any brave gentleman slain in a cause sofoolish. And in consequence I kiss and tell. In effect, I waseloquent, I was magnificent--so that in the end her reserve wasshattered like the wooden flask yonder at our feet. Is it worth while,think you, that our blood flow like this flagon's contents?"

  "Liar!" Prince Edward said, very softly. "O hideous liar! Alreadyyour eyes shift!" He drew near and struck the Frenchman. "Talk andtalk and talk! and lying talk! I am ashamed while I share the worldwith a thing so base as you."

  De Gatinais hurled upon him, cursing, sobbing in an abandoned fury. Inan instant the place resounded like a smithy, for there were no betterswordsmen living than these two. The eavesdropper could see nothingclearly. Round and round they veered in a whirl of turmoil. PresentlyPrince Edward trod upon the broken flask, smashing it. His footslipped in the spilth of wine, and the huge body went down like an oak,the head of it striking one leg of the table.

  "IN AN INSTANT THE PLACE RESOUNDED LIKE A SMITHY"_Painting by William Hurd Lawrence_]

  "A candle!" de Gatinais cried, and he panted now--"a hundred candles tothe Virgin of Beaujolais!" He shortened his sword to stab the Princeof England.

  And now the eavesdropper understood. She flung open the door and fellupon Prince Edward, embracing him. The sword dug deep into hershoulder, so that she shrieked once with the cold pain of this wound.Then she rose, all ashen.

  "Liar!" she said. "Oh, I am shamed while I share the world with athing so base as you!"

  In silence de Gatinais regarded her. There was a long interval beforehe said, "Ellinor!" and then again, "Ellinor!" like a man bewildered.

  "_I was eloquent, I was magnificent,_" she said, "_so that in the endher reserve was shattered!_ Certainly, messire, it is not your deathwhich I desire, since a man dies so very, very quickly. I desire foryou--I know not what I desire for you!" the girl wailed.

  "You desire that I should endure this present moment," de Gatinaissaid; "for as God reigns, I love you, and now am I shamed past death."

  She said: "And I, too, loved you. It is strange to think of that."

  "I was afraid. Never in my life have I been afraid before. But I wasafraid of this terrible and fair and righteous man. I saw all hope ofyou vanish, all hope of Sicily--in effect, I lied as a cornered beastspits out his venom," de Gatinais said.

  "I know," she answered. "Give me water, Etienne." She washed andbound the Prince's head with a vinegar-soaked napkin. Ellinor sat uponthe floor, the big man's head upon her knee. "He will not die of this,for he is of strong person. Look you, Messire de Gatinais, you and Iare not. We are so fashioned that we can enjoy only the pleasantthings of life. But this man can enjoy--enjoy, mark you--thecommission of any act, however distasteful, if he think it to be hisduty. There is the difference. I cannot fathom him. But it is nownecessary that I become all which he loves--since he loves it--and thatI be in thought and deed all which he desires. For I have heard theTenson through."

  "You love him!" said de Gatinais.

  She glanced upward with a pitiable smile. "Nay, it is you that I love,my Etienne. You cannot understand--can you?--how at this very momentevery fibre of me--heart, soul, and body--may be longing just tocomfort you and to give you all which you desire, my Etienne, and tomake you happy, my handsome Etienne, at however dear a cost. No; youwill never understand that. And since you may not understand, I merelybid you go and leave me with my husband."

  And then there fell between these two an infinite silence.

  "Listen," de Gatinais said; "grant me some little credit for what I do.You are alone; the man is powerless. My fellows are within call. Aword secures the Prince's death; a word gets me you and Sicily. And Ido not speak that word, for you are my lady as well as his."

  But there was no mercy in the girl, no more for him than for herself.The big head lay upon her breast what time she caressed the gross hairof it ever so lightly. "These are tinsel oaths," she crooned, as raptwith incurious content; "these are but the protestations of a jongleur.A word get you my body? A word get you, in effect, all which you arecapable of desiring? Then why do you not speak that word?"

  De Gatinais raised clenched hands. "I am shamed," he said; and morelately, "It is just."

  He left the room and presently rode away with his men. I say that hehad done a knightly deed, but she thought little of it, never raisedher head as the troop clattered from Mauleon, with a lessening beatwhich lapsed now into the blunders of an aging fly who doddered aboutthe pane yonder.

  She sat thus for a long period, her meditations adrift in the future;and that which she foreread left her nor all sorry nor profoundly glad,for living seemed by this, though scarcely the merry and colorfulbusiness which she had esteemed it, yet immeasurably the more worthwhile.

  THE END OF THE SECOND NOVEL

  III

  The Story of the Rat-Trap

  "_Leixant a part le stil dels trobados, Dos grans dezigs han combatut ma pensa, Mas lo voler vers un seguir dispensa; Yo l'vos publich, amar dretament vos._"

  THE THIRD NOVEL.--MEREGRETT OF FRANCE, THINKING TO PRESERVE A HOODWINKED GENTLEMAN, ANNOYS A SPIDER; AND BY THE GRACE OF DESTINY THE WEB OF THAT CUNNING INSECT ENTRAPS A BUTTERFLY, A WASP, AND THEN A GOD; WHO SHATTERS IT.

  The Story of the Rat-Trap

  In the year of grace 1298, a little before Candlemas (thus Nicolasbegins), came letters to the first King Edward of England from hiskinsman and ambassador to France, Earl Edmund of Lancaster. It wasperfectly apparent, the Earl wrote, that the French King meant tosurrender to the Earl's lord and brother neither the duchy of Guiennenor the Lady Blanch.

  The courier found Sire Edward at Ipswich, midway in celebration of hisdaughter's marriage to the Count of Holland. The King read the lettersthrough and began to laugh; and presently broke into a rage such as waspossible to the demon-tainted blood of Anjou. So that next day thekeeper of the privy purse entered upon the household-books aconsiderable sum "to make good a large ruby and an emerald lost out ofhis coronet when the King's Grace was pleased to throw it into thefire"; and upon the same day the King recalled Lancaster, and morelately despatched yet another embassy into France to treat about SireEdward's second marriage. This last embassy was headed by the Earl ofAquitaine.

  The Earl got audience of the French King at Mezelais. Walking alonecame this Earl of Aquitaine, with a large retinue, into the hall wherethe barons of France stood according to their rank; in russet were thebig Earl and his attendants, but upon the scarlets and purples of theFrench lords many jewels shone; as through a corridor of gayly paintedsunlit glass came the grave Earl to the dais where sat King Philippe.

  The King had risen at close sight of the new envoy, and had gulped onceor twice, and without speaking, hurriedly waved his lords out ofear-shot. His perturbation was very extraordinary.

  "Fair cousin," the Earl now said, without any prelude, "four years agoI was affianced to your sister, Dame Blanch. You stipulated thatGascony be given up to you in guaranty, as a settlement on any childrenI might have by that incomparable lady. I assented, and yielded youthe province, upon the understanding, sworn to according to the faithof loyal kings, that within forty days you assign to me its seignory asyour vassal. And I have had of you since then neither the enfeoffmentnor the lady, but only excuses, Sire Philippe."

  With eloquence the Frenchman touched upon the emergencies to which thepublic weal so often drives
men of high station, and upon his privategrief over the necessity--unavoidable, alas!--of returning a hardanswer before the council; and become so voluble that Sire Edwardmerely laughed, in that big-lunged and disconcerting way of his, andafterward lodged for a week at Mezelais, nominally passing by hislesser title of Earl of Aquitaine, and as his own ambassador.

  And negotiations became more swift of foot, since a man serves himselfwith zeal. In addition, the French lords could make nothing of apolitician so thick-witted that he replied to every consideration ofexpediency with a parrot-like reiteration of the trivial circumstancethat already the bargain was signed and sworn to; and, in consequence,while daily they fumed over his stupidity, daily he gained his point.During this period he was, upon one pretext or another, very largely inthe company of his affianced wife, Dame Blanch.

  This lady, I must tell you, was the handsomest of her day; there couldnowhere be found a creature more agreeable to every sense; and shecompelled the eye, it is recorded, not gently but in a superb fashion.And Sire Edward, who, till this, had loved her merely by report, and,in accordance with the high custom of old, through many perusals of herportrait, now appeared besotted. He was an aging man, near sixty; hugeand fair he was, with a crisp beard, and stalwart as a tower; and thebetter-read at Mezelais likened the couple to Sieur Hercules at thefeet of Queen Omphale when they saw the two so much together.

  The ensuing Wednesday the court hunted and slew a stag of ten in thewoods of Ermenoueil, which stand thick about the chateau; and upon thatday these two had dined at Rigon the forester's hut, in company withDame Meregrett, the French King's younger sister. She sat a littleapart from the betrothed, and stared through the hut's one window. Weknow nowadays it was not merely the trees she considered.

  Dame Blanch, it seemed, was undisposed to mirth. "For we have slainthe stag, beau sire," she said, "and have made of his death a bravediversion. To-day we have had our sport of death,--and presently thegay years wind past us, as our cavalcade came toward the stag, andGod's incurious angel slays us, much as we slew the stag. And we willnot understand, and we will wonder, as the stag did, in helplesswonder. And Death will have his sport of us, as in atonement." Hereher big eyes shone, as the sun glints upon a sand-bottomed pool. "Ohe,I have known such happiness of late, beau sire, that I am hideouslyafraid to die." And again the heavily fringed eyelids lifted, andwithin the moment sank contentedly.

  For the King had murmured "Happiness!" and his glance was rapacious.

  "But I am discourteous," Blanch said, "to prate of death thus drearily.Let us flout him, then, with some gay song." And toward Sire Edwardshe handed Rigon's lute.

  The King accepted it. "Death is not reasonably mocked," Sire Edwardsaid, "since in the end he conquers, and of the very lips that gibed athim remains but a little dust. Nay, rather should I who already standbeneath a lifted sword make for my immediate conqueror a Sirvente,which is the Song of Service."

  Sang Sire Edward:

  "_I sing of Death, that cometh to the king, And lightly plucks him from the cushioned throne, And drowns his glory and his warfaring In unrecorded dim oblivion, And girds another with the sword thereof, And sets another in his stead to reign, What time the monarch nakedly must gain Styx' hither shore and nakedly complain 'Midst twittering ghosts lamenting life and love._

  "_For Death is merciless: a crack-brained king He raises in the place of Prester John, Smites Priam, and mid-course in conquering Bids Caesar pause; the wit of Salomon, The wealth of Nero and the pride thereof, And prowess of great captains--of Gawayne, Darius, Jeshua, and Charlemaigne-- Wheedle and bribe and surfeit Death in vain And get no grace of him nor any love._

  "_Incuriously he smites the armored king And tricks his wisest counsellor--_"

  "True, O God!" murmured the tiny woman, who sat beside the windowyonder. And Dame Meregrett rose and in silence passed from the room.

  The two started, and laughed in common, and afterward paid little heedto her outgoing. For Sire Edward had put aside the lute and sat nowregarding the Princess. His big left hand propped the bearded chin;his grave countenance was flushed, and his intent eyes shone undertheir shaggy brows, very steadily, like the tapers before an altar.

  And, irresolutely, Dame Blanch plucked at her gown; then rearranged afold of it, and with composure awaited the ensuing action, afraid atbottom, but not at all ill-pleased; and always she looked downward.

  The King said: "Never before were we two alone, madame. Fate is verygracious to me this morning."

  "Fate," the lady considered, "has never denied much to the Hammer ofthe Scots."

  "She has denied me nothing," he sadly said, "save the one thing thatmakes this business of living seem a rational proceeding. Fame andpower and wealth she has accorded me, no doubt, but never the commonjoys of life. And, look you, my Princess, I am of aging person now.During some thirty years I have ruled England according to myinterpretation of God's will as it was anciently made manifest by theholy Evangelists; and during that period I have ruled England notwithout odd by-ends of commendation: yet behold, to-day I forget theworld-applauded, excellent King Edward, and remember only EdwardPlantagenet--hot-blooded and desirous man!--of whom that much-commendedking has made a prisoner all these years."

  "It is the duty of exalted persons," Blanch unsteadily said, "to putaside such private inclinations as their breasts may harbor--"

  He said, "I have done what I might for the happiness of everyEnglishman within my realm saving only Edward Plantagenet; and now Ithink his turn to be at hand." Then the man kept silence; and his hotappraisal daunted her.

  "Lord," she presently faltered, "lord, in sober verity Love cannotextend his laws between husband and wife, since the gifts of love arevoluntary, and husband and wife are but the slaves of duty--"

  "Troubadourish nonsense!" Sire Edward said; "yet it is true that thegifts of love are voluntary. And therefore-- Ha, most beautiful, whathave you and I to do with all this chaffering over Guienne?" The twostood very close to each other now.

  Blanch said, "It is a high matter--" Then on a sudden the full-veinedgirl was aglow with passion. "It is a trivial matter." He took her inhis arms, since already her cheeks flared in scarlet anticipation ofthe event.

  And thus holding her, he wooed the girl tempestuously. Here, indeed,was Sieur Hercules enslaved, burned by a fiercer fire than that ofNessus, and the huge bulk of the unconquerable visibly shaken by hisadoration. In the disordered tapestry of verbiage, passion-flapped asa flag is by the wind, she presently beheld herself prefigured byBalkis, the Judean's lure, and by the Princess of Cyprus (inAristotle's time), and by Nicolette, the King's daughter ofCarthage--since the first flush of morning was as a rush-light beforeher resplendency, the man swore; and in conclusion, by the Countess ofTripolis, for love of whom he had cleft the seas, and losing whom hemust inevitably die as Rudel did. He snapped his fingers now over anyconsideration of Guienne. He would conquer for her all Muscovy and allCataia, too, if she desired mere acreage. Meanwhile he wanted her, andhis hard and savage passion beat down opposition as with a bludgeon.

  "Heart's emperor," the trembling girl more lately said, "I think thatyou were cast in some larger mould than we of France. Oh, none of usmay dare resist you! and I know that nothing matters, nothing in allthe world, save that you love me. Then take me, since you will it--andnot as King, since you will otherwise, but as Edward Plantagenet. Forlisten! by good luck you have this afternoon despatched Rigon forChevrieul, where tomorrow we hunt the great boar. And in consequenceto-night this hut will be unoccupied."

  The man was silent. He had a gift that way when occasion served.

  "Here, then, beau sire! here, then, at nine, you are to meet me with mychaplain. Behold, he marries us, as glibly as though we two werepeasants. Poor king and princess!" cried Dame Blanch, and in a voicewhich thrilled him, "shall ye not, then, dare to be but man and woman?"

  "Ha!" the King said. He laughed. "The K
ing is pleased to loose hisprisoner; and I will do it." He fiercely said this, for the girl wasvery beautiful.

  So he came that night, without any retinue, and habited as a forester,a horn swung about his neck, into the unlighted hut of Rigon theforester, and found a woman there, though not the woman whom he hadperhaps expected.

  "Treachery, beau sire! Horrible treachery!" she wailed.

  "I have encountered it ere this," the big man said.

  "Presently comes not Blanch but Philippe, with many men to back him.And presently they will slay you. You have been trapped, beau sire.Ah, for the love of God, go! Go, while there is yet time!"

  Sire Edward reflected. Undoubtedly, to light on Edward Longshanksalone in a forest would appear to King Philippe, if properly attended,a tempting chance to settle divers disputations, once for all; and SireEdward knew the conscience of his old opponent to be invulnerable. Theact would violate all laws of hospitality and knighthood--oh, granted!but its outcome would be a very definite gain to France, and for therest, merely a dead body in a ditch. Not a monarch in Christendom,Sire Edward reflected, but feared and in consequence hated the Hammerof the Scots, and in further consequence would not lift a finger toavenge him; and not a being in the universe would rejoice at Philippe'sachievement one-half so heartily as would Sire Edward's son andimmediate successor, the young Prince Edward of Caernarvon. So that,all in all, ohime! Philippe had planned the affair with forethought.