"Oh, but there is a boundary appointed," Glyndwyr moodily returned."You, too, forget that in cold blood this Henry stabbed my best-lovedson. But I do not forget this, and I have tried divers methods whichwe need not speak of--I who can at will corrupt the air, and causesickness and storms, raise heavy mists, and create plagues and firesand shipwrecks; yet the life itself I cannot take. For there is aboundary appointed, sire, and in the end the Master of our Sabbathscannot serve us even though he would."
And Richard crossed himself. "You horribly mistake my meaning. Yourpractices are your own affair, and in them I decline to dabble. Idesign but to trap a tiger with his appropriate bait. For you have afief at Caer Idion, I think?--Very well! I intend to herd your sheepthere, for a week or two, after the honorable example of Apollo. It isyour part merely to see that Henry knows I live alone and in disguiseat Caer Idion."
The gaunt Welshman chuckled. "Yes, Bolingbroke would cross the world,much less the Severn, to make quite sure of Richard's death. He wouldcome in his own person with at most some twenty followers. I will havea hundred there; and certain aging scores will then be settled in thatplace." Glyndwyr meditated afterward, very evilly. "Sire," he saidwithout prelude, "I do not recognize Richard of Bordeaux. You havegarnered much in travelling!"
"Why, look you," Richard returned, "I have garnered so much that I donot greatly care whether this scheme succeed or no. With age I beginto contend even more indomitably that a wise man will consider nothingvery seriously. You barons here believe it an affair of importance whomay chance to be the King of England, say, this time next year; youtake sides between Henry and myself. I tell you frankly that neitherof us, that no man in the world, by reason of innate limitations, canever rule otherwise than abominably, or, ruling, create anything savediscord. Nor can I see how this matters either, since the discomfortof an ant-village is not, after all, a planet-wrecking disaster. Nay,if the planets do indeed sing together, it is, depend upon it, to theburden of _Fools All_. For I am as liberally endowed as most people;and when I consider my abilities, performances, instincts, and so on,quite aloofly, as I would those of another person, I can only shrug:and to conceive that common-sense, much less Omnipotence, would everconcern itself about the actions of a creature so entirely futile is,to me at least, impossible."
"I have known the thought," said Owain--"though rarely since I foundthe Englishwoman that was afterward my wife, and never since my son, myGrunyd, was murdered by a jesting man. He was more like me than theothers, people said.... You are as yet the empty scabbard, powerlessalike for help or hurt. Ey, hate or love must be the sword, sire, thatinforms us here, and then, if only for a little while, we are as gods."
"Pardie! I have loved as often as Salomon, and in fourteen kingdoms."
"We of Cymry have a saying, sire, that when a man loves par amours thesecond time he may safely assume that he has never been in love at all."
"And I hate Henry of Lancaster as I do the devil."
"I greatly fear," said Owain with a sigh, "lest it may be yourirreparable malady to hate nothing, not even that which you dislike."
So then Glyndwyr rode south to besiege and burn the town of Caerdyf,while at Caer Idion Richard Holland tranquilly abode for some threeweeks. There was in this place only Caradawc (the former shepherd),his wife Alundyne, and their sole daughter Branwen. They gladlyperceived Sire Richard was no more a peasant than he was a curmudgeon;as Caradawc observed: "It is perfectly apparent that the robe of PadarnBeisrudd would fit him as a glove does the hand, but we will ask noquestions, since it is not wholesome to dispute the orderings of OwainGlyndwyr."
They did not; and later day by day would Richard Holland drive theflocks to pasture near the Severn, and loll there in the shade, andmake songs to his lute. He grew to love this leisured life of brightand open spaces; and its long solitudes, grateful with the warm odorsof growing things and with poignant bird-noises, and the tranquillityof these meadows, that were always void of hurry, bedrugged the manthrough many fruitless and incurious hours.
Each day at noon would Branwen bring his dinner, and sometimes chatwith him while he ate. After supper he would discourse to Branwen ofremote kingdoms, wherethrough he had ridden at adventure, as the windveers, among sedate and alien peoples who adjudged him a madman; andshe, in turn, would tell him many curious tales from the _Red Book ofHergest_--as of Gwalchmai, and Peredur, and Geraint, in each one ofwhom she had presently discerned an inadequate forerunnership ofRichard's existence.
This Branwen was a fair wench, slender as a wand, and, in a harmlessway, of a bold demeanor twin to that of a child who is ignorant of eviland in consequence of suspicion. Happily, though, had she been namedfor that unhappy lady of old, the wife of King Matholwch, for thisBranwen, too, had a white, thin, wistful face, like that of an empresson a silver coin which is a little worn. Her eyes were large andbrilliant, colored like clear emeralds, and her abundant hair was somuch cornfloss, only more brightly yellow and of immeasurably finertexture. In full sunlight her cheeks were frosted like the surface ofa peach, but the underlying cool pink of them was rather that of acloud, Richard decided. In all, a taking morsel! though her shapelyhands were hard with labor, and she rarely laughed; for, as inrecompense, her heart was tender and ignorant of discontent, and sherarely ceased to smile as over some peculiar and wonderful secret whichshe intended, in due time, to share with you alone. Branwen had manylovers, and preferred among them young Gwyllem ap Llyr, a portly lad,who was handsome enough, for all his tiny and piggish eyes, and sangdivinely.
Presently this Gwyllem came to Richard with two quarter-staves."Saxon," he said, "you appear a stout man. Take your pick of these,then, and have at you."
"Such are not the weapons I would have named," Richard answered, "yetin reason, messire, I may not deny you."
With that they laid aside their coats and fell to exercise. In theseunaccustomed bouts Richard was soundly drubbed, as he had anticipated,but throughout he found himself the stronger man, and he managedsomehow to avoid an absolute overthrow. By what method he neverascertained.
"I have forgotten what we are fighting about," he observed, after ahalf-hour of this; "or, to be perfectly exact, I never knew. But wewill fight no more in this place. Come and go with me to Welshpool,Messire Gwyllem, and there we will fight to a conclusion over good sackand claret."
"Content!" cried Gwyllem; "but only if you yield me Branwen."
"Have we indeed wasted a whole half-hour in squabbling over a woman?"Richard demanded; "like two children in a worldwide toyshop over anyone particular toy? Then devil take me if I am not heartily ashamed ofmy folly! Though, look you, Gwyllem, I would speak naught savecommendation of these delicate and livelily-tinted creatures so long asone is able to approach them in a proper spirit of levity: it is onlytheir not infrequent misuse which I would condemn; and in my opinionthe person who elects to build a shrine for any one of them has onlyhimself to blame if his divinity will ascend no pedestal save thecarcass of his happiness. Yet have many men since time was young beenaddicted to the practice, as were Hercules and Merlin to theirillimitable sorrow; and, indeed, the more I reconsider the oldgallantries of Salomon, and of other venerable and sagaciouspotentates, the more profoundly am I ashamed of my sex."
Gwyllem said: "That is all very fine. Perhaps it is also reasonable.Only when you love you do not reason."
"I was endeavoring to prove that," said Richard gently. Then they wentto Welshpool, ride and tie on Gwyllem's horse. Tongue loosened by theclaret, Gwyllem raved aloud of Branwen, like a babbling faun, while toeach rapture Richard affably assented. In his heart he likened the boyto Dionysos at Naxos, and could find no blame for Ariadne. Moreover,the room was comfortably dark and cool, for thick vines hung abouteither window, rustling and tapping pleasantly, and Richard was content.
"She does not love me?" Gwyllem cried. "It is well enough. I do notcome to her as one merchant to another, since love was never bartered.Listen, Saxon!" He caught
up Richard's lute. The strings shriekedbeneath Gwyllem's fingers as he fashioned his rude song.
Sang Gwyllem:
"_Love me or love me not, it is enough That I have loved you, seeing my whole life is Uplifted and made glad by the glory of Love-- My life that was a scroll all marred and blurred With tavern-catches, which that pity of his Erased, and writ instead one perfect word, O Branwen!_
"_I have accorded you incessant praise And song and service long, O Love, for this, And always I have dreamed incessantly Who always dreamed, 'When in oncoming days This man or that shall love you, and at last This man or that shall win you, it must be That loving him you will have pity on me When happiness engenders memory And long thoughts, nor unkindly, of the past, O Branwen!'_
"_I know not!--ah, I know not, who am sure That I shall always love you while I live! And being dead, and with no more to give Of song or service?--Love shall yet endure, And yet retain his last prerogative, When I lie still, through many centuries, And dream of you and the exceeding love I bore you, and am glad dreaming thereof, And give God thanks therefor, and so find peace, O Branwen!_"
"Now, were I to get as tipsy as that," Richard enviously thought,midway in a return to his stolid sheep, "I would simply go to sleep andwake up with a headache. And were I to fall as many fathoms deep inlove as this Gwyllem has blundered without any astonishment I wouldperform--I wonder, now, what miracle?"
For he was, though vaguely, discontent. This Gwyllem was so young, soearnest over every trifle, and above all so unvexed by any rationalafterthought; and each desire controlled him as varying winds sportwith a fallen leaf, whose frank submission to superior vagaries the boyappeared to emulate. Richard saw that in a fashion Gwyllem was superb."And heigho!" said Richard, "I am attestedly a greater fool than he,but I begin to weary of a folly so thin-blooded.".
The next morning came a ragged man, riding upon a mule. He claimed tobe a tinker. He chatted out an hour with Richard, who perfectlyrecognized him as Sir Walter Blount; and then this tinker crossed overinto England.
And Richard whistled. "Now will my cousin be quite sure, and now willmy anxious cousin come to speak with Richard of Bordeaux. And now, byevery saint in the calendar! I am as good as King of England."
He sat down beneath a young oak and twisted four or five blades ofgrass between his fingers what while he meditated. Undoubtedly hewould kill Henry of Lancaster with a clear conscience and even with acertain relish, much as one crushes the uglier sort of vermin, but,hand upon heart, he was unable to protest any particularly ardentdesire for the scoundrel's death. Thus crudely to demolish the knave'sadroit and year-long schemings savored of a tyranny a shade too gross.The spider was venomous, and his destruction laudable; granted, but incrushing him you ruined his web, a miracle of patient malevolence,which, despite yourself, compelled both admiration and envy. True, theprocess would recrown a certain Richard, but then, as he recalled it,being King was rather tedious. Richard was not now quite sure that hewanted to be King, and in consequence be daily plagued by a host ofvexatious and ever-squabbling barons. "I shall miss the little huzzy,too," he thought.
"Heigho!" said Richard, "I shall console myself with purchasing allbeautiful things that can be touched and handled. Life is a flimsyvapor which passes and is not any more: presently is Branwen married tothis Gwyllem and grown fat and old, and I am remarried to Dame Isabelof France, and am King of England: and a trifle later all four of uswill be dead. Pending this deplorable consummation a wise man willendeavor to amuse himself."
Next day he despatched Caradawc to Owain Glyndwyr to bid the lattersend the promised implements to Caer Idion. Richard, returning to thehut the same evening, found Alundyne there, alone, and grovelling atthe threshold. Her forehead was bloodied when she raised it andthrough tearless sobs told of the day's happenings. A half-hour since,while she and Branwen were intent upon their milking, Gwyllem hadridden up, somewhat the worse for liquor. Branwen had called him sot,had bidden him go home. "That will I do," said Gwyllem and suddenlycaught up the girl. Alundyne sprang for him, and with clenched fistGwyllem struck her twice full in the face, and laughing, rode away withBranwen.
Richard made no observation. In silence he fetched his horse, and didnot pause to saddle it. Quickly he rode to Gwyllem's house, and brokein the door. Against the farther wall stood lithe Branwen fightingsilently in a hideous conflict; her breasts and shoulders were naked,where Gwyllem had torn away her garments. He wheedled, laughed, swore,and hiccoughed, turn by turn, but she was silent.
"On guard!" Richard barked. Gwyllem wheeled. His head twisted towardhis left shoulder, and one corner of his mouth convulsively snappedupward, so that his teeth were bared. There was a knife at Richard'sgirdle, which he now unsheathed and flung away. He stepped eagerlytoward the snarling Welshman, and with either hand seized the thick andhairy throat. What followed was brutal.
For many minutes Branwen stood with averted face, shuddering. She verydimly heard the sound of Gwyllem's impotent great fists as they beatagainst the countenance and body of Richard, and the thin splittingvicious noise of torn cloth as Gwyllem clutched at Richard's tunic andtore it many times. Richard uttered no articulate word, and Gwyllemcould not. There was entire silence for a heart-beat, and then thefall of something ponderous and limp.
"Come!" Richard said. Through the hut's twilight, glorious in her eyesas Michael fresh from that primal battle, Richard came to her, his faceall blood, and lifted her in his arms lest Branwen's skirt be soiled bythe demolished thing which sprawled across their path. She neverspoke. She could not. In his arms she rode presently, passive, andincuriously content. The horse trod with deliberation. In the eastthe young moon was taking heart as the darkness thickened about them,and innumerable stars awoke.
Richard was horribly afraid. He it had been, in sober verity it hadbeen Richard of Bordeaux, that some monstrous force had seized, and hadlifted, and had curtly utilized as its handiest implement. He hadbeen, and in the moment had known himself to be, the thrown spear asyet in air, about to kill and quite powerless to refrain therefrom. Itwas a full three minutes before he got the better of his bewildermentand laughed, very softly, lest he disturb this Branwen, who was so nearhis heart....
Next day she came to him at noon, bearing as always the little basket.It contained to-day a napkin, some garlic, a ham, and a small softcheese; some shalots, salt, nuts, wild apples, lettuce, onions, andmushrooms. "Behold a feast!" said Richard. He noted then that shecarried also a blue pitcher filled with thin wine and two cups ofoak-bark. She thanked him for last night's performance, and drank amouthful of wine to his health.
"Decidedly, I shall be sorry to have done with shepherding," saidRichard as he ate.
Branwen answered, "I too shall be sorry, lord, when the masquerade isended." And it seemed to Richard that she sighed, and he was thehappier.
But he only shrugged. "I am the wisest person unhanged, since Icomprehend my own folly. And so, I think, was once the minstrel of oldtime that sang: 'Over wild lands and tumbling seas flits Love, at will,and maddens the heart and beguiles the senses of all whom he attacks,whether his quarry be some monster of the ocean or some wild denizen ofthe forest, or man; for thine, O Love, thine alone is the power to makeplaythings of us all.'"
"Your bard was wise, no doubt, yet it was not in similar terms thatGwyllem sang of this passion. Lord," she demanded shyly, "how wouldyou sing of love?"
Richard was replete and quite contented with the world. He took up thelute, in full consciousness that his compliance was in large partcenatory. "In courtesy, thus--"
Sang Richard:
"_The gods in honor of fair Branwen's worth Bore gifts to her--and Jove, Olympus' lord, Co-rule of Earth and Heaven did accord, And Venus gave her slender body's girth, And Mercury the lyre he framed at birth, And Mars his jewelled and resistless sword, And wrinkled Plutus all the secret hoard And immemorial treasure of mid-earth,-
-_
"_And while the puzzled gods were pondering Which of these goodly gifts the goodliest was, Dan Cupid came among them carolling And proffered unto her a looking-glass, Wherein she gazed and saw the goodliest thing That Earth had borne, and Heaven might not surpass._"
"Three sounds are rarely heard," said Branwen; "and these are the songof the birds of Rhiannon, an invitation to feast with a miser, and aspeech of wisdom from the mouth of a Saxon. The song you have made ofcourtesy is tinsel. Sing now in verity."
Richard laughed, though he was sensibly nettled and perhaps a shadeabashed; and presently he sang again.
Sang Richard:
"_Catullus might have made of words that seek With rippling sound, in soft recurrent ways, The perfect song, or in the old dead days Theocritus have hymned you in glad Greek; But I am not as they--and dare not speak Of you unworthily, and dare not praise Perfection with imperfect roundelays, And desecrate the prize I dare to seek._
"_I do not woo you, then, by fashioning Vext similes of you and Guenevere, And durst not come with agile lips that bring The sugared periods of a sonneteer, And bring no more--but just with lips that cling To yours, and murmur against them, 'I love you, dear!'_"
For Richard had resolved that Branwen should believe him. Tinsel,indeed! then here was yet more tinsel which she must and should receiveas gold. He was very angry, because his vanity was hurt, and thepin-prick spurred him to a counterfeit so specious that consciously hegloried in it. He was superb, and she believed him now; there was noquestioning the fact, he saw it plainly, and with exultant cruelty; andcurt as lightning came the knowledge that she believed the absolutetruth.
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