The Last of the Barons — Complete

by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton

  CHAPTER I. THE PASTIME-GROUND OF OLD COCKAIGNE.

  Westward, beyond the still pleasant, but even then no longer solitary,hamlet of Charing, a broad space, broken here and there by scatteredhouses and venerable pollards, in the early spring of 1467, presentedthe rural scene for the sports and pastimes of the inhabitants ofWestminster and London. Scarcely need we say that open spaces for thepopular games and diversions were then numerous in the suburbs of themetropolis,--grateful to some the fresh pools of Islington; to others,the grass-bare fields of Finsbury; to all, the hedgeless plains of vastMile-end. But the site to which we are now summoned was a new and maidenholiday-ground, lately bestowed upon the townsfolk of Westminster by thepowerful Earl of Warwick.

  Raised by a verdant slope above the low, marsh-grown soil ofWestminster, the ground communicated to the left with the Brook-fields,through which stole the peaceful Ty-bourne, and commanded prospects,on all sides fair, and on each side varied. Behind, rose the twin greenhills of Hampstead and Highgate, with the upland park and chase ofMarybone,--its stately manor-house half hid in woods. In front might beseen the Convent of the Lepers, dedicated to Saint James, now a palace;then to the left, York House, [The residence of the Archbishops ofYork] now Whitehall; farther on, the spires of Westminster Abbey and thegloomy tower of the Sanctuary; next, the Palace, with its bulwark andvawmure, soaring from the river; while eastward, and nearer tothe scene, stretched the long, bush-grown passage of the Strand,picturesquely varied with bridges, and flanked to the right by theembattled halls of feudal nobles, or the inns of the no less powerfulprelates; while sombre and huge amidst hall and inn, loomed the giganticruins of the Savoy, demolished in the insurrection of Wat Tyler. Fartheron, and farther yet, the eye wandered over tower and gate, and archand spire, with frequent glimpses of the broad sunlit river, and theopposite shore crowned by the palace of Lambeth, and the Church of St.Mary Overies, till the indistinct cluster of battlements around theFortress-Palatine bounded the curious gaze. As whatever is new is fora while popular, so to this pastime-ground, on the day we treat of,flocked, not only the idlers of Westminster, but the lordly dwellers ofLudgate and the Flete, and the wealthy citizens of tumultuous Chepe.

  The ground was well suited to the purpose to which it was devoted.About the outskirts, indeed, there were swamps and fish-pools; but aconsiderable plot towards the centre presented a level sward, alreadyworn bare and brown by the feet of the multitude. From this, towardsthe left, extended alleys, some recently planted, intended to afford,in summer, cool and shady places for the favourite game of bowls; whilescattered clumps, chiefly of old pollards, to the right broke the spaceagreeably enough into detached portions, each of which afforded itsseparate pastime or diversion. Around were ranged many carts, or wagons;horses of all sorts and value were led to and fro, while their ownerswere at sport. Tents, awnings, hostelries, temporary buildings, stagesfor showmen and jugglers, abounded, and gave the scene the appearance ofa fair; but what particularly now demands our attention was a broad plotin the ground, dedicated to the noble diversion of archery. The reigningHouse of York owed much of its military success to the superiority ofthe bowmen under its banners, and the Londoners themselves were jealousof their reputation in this martial accomplishment. For the last fiftyyears, notwithstanding the warlike nature of the times, the practice ofthe bow, in the intervals of peace, had been more neglected than seemedwise to the rulers. Both the king and his loyal city had of late takenmuch pains to enforce the due exercise of "Goddes instrumente," [Socalled emphatically by Bishop Latimer, in his celebrated Sixth Sermon.]upon which an edict had declared that "the liberties and honour ofEngland principally rested!"

  And numerous now was the attendance, not only of the citizens,the burghers, and the idle populace, but of the gallant nobles whosurrounded the court of Edward IV., then in the prime of his youth,--thehandsomest, the gayest, and the bravest prince in Christendom.

  The royal tournaments (which were, however, waning from their ancientlustre to kindle afresh, and to expire in the reigns of the succeedingTudors), restricted to the amusements of knight and noble, no doubtpresented more of pomp and splendour than the motley and mixed assemblyof all ranks that now grouped around the competitors for the silverarrow, or listened to the itinerant jongleur, dissour, or minstrel, or,seated under the stunted shade of the old trees, indulged, with eagerlooks and hands often wandering to their dagger-hilts, in the absorbingpassion of the dice; but no later and earlier scenes of revelry ever,perhaps, exhibited that heartiness of enjoyment, that universal holiday,which attended this mixture of every class, that established a rudeequality for the hour between the knight and the retainer, the burgessand the courtier.

  The revolution that placed Edward IV. upon the throne had, in fact, beena popular one. Not only had the valour and moderation of his father,Richard, Duke of York, bequeathed a heritage of affection to his braveand accomplished son; not only were the most beloved of the great baronsthe leaders of his party; but the king himself, partly from inclination,partly from policy, spared no pains to win the good graces of thatslowly rising, but even then important part of the population,--theMiddle Class. He was the first king who descended, without loss ofdignity and respect, from the society of his peers and princes, to joinfamiliarly in the feasts and diversions of the merchant and the trader.The lord mayor and council of London were admitted, on more than onesolemn occasion, into the deliberations of the court; and Edward had notlong since, on the coronation of his queen, much to the discontent ofcertain of his barons, conferred the Knighthood of the hath upon four ofthe citizens. On the other hand, though Edward's gallantries--theonly vice which tended to diminish his popularity with the soberburgesses--were little worthy of his station, his frank, joyousfamiliarity with his inferiors was not debased by the buffooneriesthat had led to the reverses and the awful fate of two of his royalpredecessors. There must have been a popular principle, indeed, as wellas a popular fancy, involved in the steady and ardent adherence whichthe population of London in particular, and most of the great cities,exhibited to the person and the cause of Edward IV. There was a feelingthat his reign was an advance in civilization upon the monastic virtuesof Henry VI., and the stern ferocity which accompanied the greatqualities of "The Foreign Woman," as the people styled and regardedHenry's consort, Margaret of Anjou. While thus the gifts, the courtesy,and the policy of the young sovereign made him popular with the middleclasses, he owed the allegiance of the more powerful barons and thefavour of the rural population to a man who stood colossal amidst theiron images of the Age,--the greatest and the last of the old Normanchivalry, kinglier in pride, in state, in possessions, and in renownthan the king himself, Richard Nevile, Earl of Salisbury and Warwick.

  This princely personage, in the full vigour of his age, possessed allthe attributes that endear the noble to the commons. His valour in thefield was accompanied with a generosity rare in the captains of thetime. He valued himself on sharing the perils and the hardships of hismeanest soldier. His haughtiness to the great was not incompatiblewith frank affability to the lowly. His wealth was enormous, but itwas equalled by his magnificence, and rendered popular by his lavishhospitality. No less than thirty thousand persons are said to havefeasted daily at the open tables with which he allured to his countlesscastles the strong hands and grateful hearts of a martial and unsettledpopulation. More haughty than ambitious, he was feared because heavenged all affront; and yet not envied, because he seemed above allfavour.

  The holiday on the archery-ground was more than usually gay, for therumour had spread from the court to the city that Edward was about toincrease his power abroad, and to repair what he had lost in the eyes ofEurope through his marriage with Elizabeth Gray, by allying his sisterMargaret with the brother of Louis XI., and that no less a person thanthe Earl of Warwick had been the day before selected as ambassador onthe important occasion.

  Various opinions were entertained upon the preference given to Francein this alliance over the rival candidate for the hand
of theprincess,--namely, the Count de Charolois, afterwards Charles the Bold,Duke of Burgundy.

  "By 'r Lady," said a stout citizen about the age of fifty, "but I am notover pleased with this French marriage-making! I would liefer the stoutearl were going to France with bows and bills than sarcenets and satins.What will become of our trade with Flanders,--answer me that, MasterStokton? The House of York is a good House, and the king is a good king,but trade is trade. Every man must draw water to his own mill."

  "Hush, Master Heyford!" said a small lean man in a light-gray surcoat."The king loves not talk about what the king does. 'T is ill jestingwith lions. Remember William Walker, hanged for saying his son should beheir to the crown."

  "Troth," answered Master Heyford, nothing daunted, for he belonged toone of the most powerful corporations of London,--"it was but a scurvyPepperer [old name for Grocer] who made that joke; but a joke from aworshipful goldsmith, who has moneys and influence, and a fair wife ofhis own, whom the king himself has been pleased to commend, is anotherguess sort of matter. But here is my grave-visaged headman, who alwayscontrives to pick up the last gossip astir, and has a deep eye intomillstones. Why, ho, there! Alwyn--I say, Nicholas Alwyn!--who wouldhave thought to see thee with that bow, a good half-ell taller thanthyself? Methought thou wert too sober and studious for such man-at-armssort of devilry."

  "An' it please you, Master Heyford," answered the person thusaddressed,--a young man, pale and lean, though sinewy and large-boned,with a countenance of great intelligence, but a slow and somewhat formalmanner of speech, and a strong provincial accent,--"an' it please you,King Edward's edict ordains every Englishman to have a bow of hisown height; and he who neglects the shaft on a holiday forfeiteth onehalfpenny and some honour. For the rest, methinks that the citizens ofLondon will become of more worth and potency every year; and it shallnot be my fault if I do not, though but a humble headman to yourworshipful mastership, help to make them so."

  "Why, that's well said, lad; but if the Londoners prosper, it is becausethey have nobles in their gipsires, [a kind of pouch worn at the girdle]not bows in their hands."

  "Thinkest thou then, Master Heyford, that any king at a pinch wouldleave them the gipsire, if they could not protect it with the bow? ThatAge may have gold, let not Youth despise iron."

  "Body o' me!" cried Master Heyford, "but thou hadst better curb in thytongue. Though I have my jest,--as a rich man and a corpulent,--a ladwho has his way to make good should be silent and--But he's gone."

  "Where hooked you up that young jack fish?" said Master Stokton, thethin mercer, who had reminded the goldsmith of the fate of the grocer.

  "Why, he was meant for the cowl, but his mother, a widow, at his ownwish, let him make choice of the flat cap. He was the best 'prenticeever I had. By the blood of Saint Thomas, he will push his way in goodtime; he has a head, Master Stokton,--a head, and an ear; and agreat big pair of eyes always looking out for something to his properadvantage."

  In the mean while, the goldsmith's headman had walked leisurely up tothe archery-ground; and even in his gait and walk, as he thus repairedto a pastime, there was something steady, staid, and business-like.

  The youths of his class and calling were at that day very different fromtheir equals in this. Many of them the sons of provincial retainers,some even of franklins and gentlemen, their childhood had made themfamiliar with the splendour and the sports of knighthood; they hadlearned to wrestle, to cudgel, to pitch the bar or the quoit, to drawthe bow, and to practise the sword and buckler, before transplanted fromthe village green to the city stall. And even then, the constantbroils and wars of the time, the example of their betters, the holidayspectacle of mimic strife, and, above all, the powerful and corporateassociation they formed amongst themselves, tended to make them as wild,as jovial, and as dissolute a set of young fellows as their posterityare now sober, careful, and discreet. And as Nicholas Alwyn, witha slight inclination of his head, passed by, two or three loud,swaggering, bold-looking groups of apprentices--their shaggy hairstreaming over their shoulders, their caps on one side, their shortcloaks of blue torn or patched, though still passably new, theirbludgeons under their arms, and their whole appearance and manner notvery dissimilar from the German collegians in the last century--notablycontrasted Alwyn's prim dress, his precise walk, and the feline carewith which he stepped aside from any patches of mire that might sullythe soles of his square-toed shoes.

  The idle apprentices winked and whispered, and lolled out their tonguesat him as he passed. "Oh, but that must be as good as a May-Fairday,--sober Nick Alwyn's maiden flight of the shaft! Hollo, puissantarcher, take care of the goslings yonder! Look this way when thoupull'st, and then woe to the other side!" Venting these and many similarspecimens of the humour of Cockaigne, the apprentices, however, followedtheir quondam colleague, and elbowed their way into the crowd gatheredaround the competitors at the butt; and it was at this spot, commandinga view of the whole space, that the spectator might well have formedsome notion of the vast following of the House of Nevile. For everywherealong the front lines, everywhere in the scattered groups, might beseen, glistening in the sunlight, the armourial badges of that mightyfamily. The Pied Bull, which was the proper cognizance [Pied Bullthe cognizance, the Dun Bull's head the crest] of the Neviles, wasprincipally borne by the numerous kinsmen of Earl Warwick, who rejoicedin the Nevile name. The Lord Montagu, Warwick's brother, to whomthe king had granted the forfeit title and estates of the earls ofNorthumberland, distinguished his own retainers, however, by the specialrequest of the ancient Montagus.--a Gryphon issuant from a ducal crown.But far more numerous than Bull or Gryphon (numerous as either seemed)were the badges worn by those who ranked themselves among the peculiarfollowers of the great Earl of Warwick. The cognizance of the Bearand Ragged Staff, which he assumed in right of the Beauchamps, whom herepresented through his wife, the heiress of the lords of Warwick,was worn in the hats of the more gentle and well-born clansmen andfollowers, while the Ragged Staff alone was worked front and back onthe scarlet jackets of his more humble and personal retainers. It wasa matter of popular notice and admiration that in those who wore thesebadges, as in the wearers of the hat and staff of the ancient Spartans,might be traced a grave loftiness of bearing, as if they belonged toanother caste, another race, than the herd of men. Near the place wherethe rivals for the silver arrow were collected, a lordly party hadreined in their palfreys, and conversed with each other, as the judgesof the field were marshalling the competitors.

  "Who," said one of these gallants, "who is that comely young fellow justbelow us, with the Nevile cognizance of the Bull on his hat? He has theair of one I should know."

  "I never saw him before, my Lord of Northumberland," answered one of thegentlemen thus addressed; "but, pardieu, he who knows all the Neviles byeye must know half England." The Lord Montagu--for though at that momentinvested with the titles of the Percy, by that name Earl Warwick'sbrother is known to history, and by that, his rightful name, heshall therefore be designated in these pages--the Lord Montagu smiledgraciously at this remark, and a murmur through the crowd announced thatthe competition for the silver arrow was about to commence. The butts,formed of turf, with a small white mark fastened to the centre by avery minute peg, were placed apart, one at each end, at the distance ofeleven score yards. At the extremity where the shooting commenced, thecrowd assembled, taking care to keep clear from the opposite butt,as the warning word of "Fast" was thundered forth; but eager was thegeneral murmur, and many were the wagers given and accepted, as somewell-known archer tried his chance. Near the butt that now formed thetarget, stood the marker with his white wand; and the rapidity withwhich archer after archer discharged his shaft, and then, if it missed,hurried across the ground to pick it up (for arrows were dear enough notto be lightly lost), amidst the jeers and laughter of the bystanders,was highly animated and diverting. As yet, however, no marksman had hitthe white, though many had gone close to it, when Nicholas Alwyn steppedforward; and there was something
so unwarlike in his whole air, so primin his gait, so careful in his deliberate survey of the shaft and hisprecise adjustment of the leathern gauntlet that protected the arm fromthe painful twang of the string, that a general burst of laughter fromthe bystanders attested their anticipation of a signal failure.

  "'Fore Heaven!" said Montagu, "he handles his bow an' it were ayard-measure. One would think he were about to bargain for thebow-string, he eyes it so closely."

  "And now," said Nicholas, slowly adjusting the arrow, "a shot for thehonour of old Westmoreland!" And as he spoke, the arrow sprang gallantlyforth, and quivered in the very heart of the white. There was a generalmovement of surprise among the spectators, as the marker thrice shookhis wand over his head. But Alwyn, as indifferent to their respect ashe had been to their ridicule, turned round and said, with a significantglance at the silent nobles, "We springals of London can take care ofour own, if need be."

  "These fellows wax insolent. Our good king spoils them," said Montagu,with a curl of his lip. "I wish some young squire of gentle blood wouldnot disdain a shot for the Nevile against the craftsman. How say you,fair sir?" And with a princely courtesy of mien and smile, Lord Montaguturned to the young man he had noticed as wearing the cognizance ofthe First House in England. The bow was not the customary weapon ofthe well-born; but still, in youth, its exercise formed one of theaccomplishments of the future knight; and even princes did not disdain,on a popular holiday, to match a shaft against the yeoman's cloth-yard.[At a later period, Henry VIII. was a match for the best bowman in hiskingdom. His accomplishment was hereditary, and distinguished alike hiswise father and his pious son.] The young man thus addressed, and whosehonest, open, handsome, hardy face augured a frank and fearless nature,bowed his head in silence, and then slowly advancing to the umpires,craved permission to essay his skill, and to borrow the loan of a shaftand bow. Leave given and the weapons lent, as the young gentleman tookhis stand, his comely person, his dress, of a better quality than thatof the competitors hitherto, and, above all, the Nevile badge worked insilver on his hat, diverted the general attention from Nicholas Alwyn.A mob is usually inclined to aristocratic predilections, and a murmurof goodwill and expectation greeted him, when he put aside the gauntletoffered to him, and said, "In my youth I was taught so to brace the bowthat the string should not touch the arm; and though eleven score yardsbe but a boy's distance, a good archer will lay his body into his bow['My father taught me to lay my body in my bow,' etc.," said Latimer, inhis well-known sermon before Edward VI.,--1549. The bishop also hereinobserves that "it is best to give the bow so much bending that thestring need never touch the arm. This," he adds, "is practised by manygood archers with whom I am acquainted, as much as if he were to hitthe blanc four hundred yards away."

  "A tall fellow this!" said Montagu; "and one I wot from the North," asthe young gallant fitted the shaft to the bow. And graceful and artisticwas the attitude he assumed,--the head slightly inclined, the feetfirmly planted, the left a little in advance, and the stretched sinewsof the bow-hand alone evincing that into that grasp was pressed thewhole strength of the easy and careless frame. The public expectationwas not disappointed,--the youth performed the feat considered of allthe most dexterous; his arrow, disdaining the white mark, struck thesmall peg which fastened it to the butts, and which seemed literallyinvisible to the bystanders.

  "Holy Saint Dunstan! there's but one man who can beat me in that sortthat I know of," muttered Nicholas, "and I little expected to see himtake a bite out of his own hip." With that he approached his successfulrival.

  "Well, Master Marmaduke," said he, "it is many a year since you showedme that trick at your father, Sir Guy's--God rest him! But I scarce takeit kind in you to beat your own countryman!"

  "Beshrew me!" cried the youth, and his cheerful features brightened intohearty and cordial pleasure, "but if I see in thee, as it seems to me,my old friend and foster-brother, Nick Alwyn, this is the happiest hourI have known for many a day. But stand back and let me look at thee,man. Thou! thou a tame London trader! Ha! ha! is it possible?"

  "Hout, Master Marmaduke," answered Nicholas, "every crow thinks his ownbaird bonniest, as they say in the North. We will talk of this anon an'thou wilt honour me. I suspect the archery is over now. Few will thinkto mend that shot."

  And here, indeed, the umpires advanced, and their chief--an old mercer,who had once borne arms, and indeed been a volunteer at the battle ofTowton--declared that the contest was over,--"unless," he added, inthe spirit of a lingering fellow-feeling with the Londoner, "this youngfellow, whom I hope to see an alderman one of these days, will demandanother shot, for as yet there hath been but one prick each at thebutts."

  "Nay, master," returned Alwyn, "I have met with my betters,--and, afterall," he added indifferently, "the silver arrow, though a pretty baubleenough, is over light in its weight."

  "Worshipful sir," said the young Nevile, with equal generosity, "Icannot accept the prize for a mere trick of the craft,--the blanc wasalready disposed of by Master Alwyn's arrow. Moreover; the contest wasintended for the Londoners, and I am but an interloper, beholden totheir courtesy for a practice of skill, and even the loan of a bow;wherefore the silver arrow be given to Nicholas Alwyn."

  "That may not be, gentle sir," said the umpire, extending the prize."Sith Alwyn vails of himself, it is thine, by might and by right."

  The Lord Montagu had not been inattentive to this dialogue, and henow said, in a loud tone that silenced the crowd, "Young Badgeman, thygallantry pleases me no less than thy skill. Take the arrow, for thouhast won it; but as thou seemest a new comer, it is right thou shouldstpay thy tax upon entry,--this be my task. Come hither, I pray thee, goodsir," and the nobleman graciously beckoned to the mercer; "be these fivenobles the prize of whatever Londoner shall acquit himself best in thebold English combat of quarter-staff, and the prize be given in thisyoung archer's name. Thy name, youth?"

  "Marmaduke Nevile, good my lord."

  Montagu smiled, and the umpire withdrew to make the announcement to thebystanders. The proclamation was received with a shout that traversedfrom group to group and line to line, more hearty from the love andhonour attached to the name of Nevile than even from a sense of thegracious generosity of Earl Warwick's brother. One man alone, a sturdy,well-knit fellow, in a franklin's Lincoln broadcloth, and with a hoodhalf-drawn over his features, did not join the popular applause. "TheseYorkists," he muttered, "know well how to fool the people."

  Meanwhile the young Nevile still stood by the gilded stirrup of thegreat noble who had thus honoured him, and contemplated him with thatrespect and interest which a youth's ambition ever feels for those whohave won a name.

  The Lord Montagu bore a very different character from his puissantbrother. Though so skilful a captain that he had never been known tolose a battle, his fame as a warrior was, strange to say, below thatof the great earl, whose prodigious strength had accomplished thosepersonal feats that dazzled the populace, and revived the legendaryrenown of the earlier Norman knighthood. The caution and wariness,indeed, which Montagu displayed in battle probably caused his success asa general, and the injustice done to him (at least by the vulgar) as asoldier. Rarely had Lord Montagu, though his courage was indisputable,been known to mix personally in the affray. Like the captains of moderntimes, he contented himself with directing the manoeuvres of hismen, and hence preserved that inestimable advantage of coolness andcalculation, which was not always characteristic of the eager hardihoodof his brother. The character of Montagu differed yet more from thatof the earl in peace than in war. He was supposed to excel in all thosesupple arts of the courtier which Warwick neglected or despised; and ifthe last was on great occasions the adviser, the other in ordinary lifewas the companion of his sovereign. Warwick owed his popularity to hisown large, open, daring, and lavish nature. The subtler Montagu soughtto win, by care and pains, what the other obtained without an effort. Heattended the various holiday meetings of the citizens, where Warwickwas rarely seen. He was sm
ooth-spoken and courteous to his equals, andgenerally affable, though with constraint, to his inferiors. He was aclose observer, and not without that genius for intrigue, which in rudeages passes for the talent of a statesman. And yet in that thoroughknowledge of the habits and tastes of the great mass, which gives wisdomto a ruler, he was far inferior to the earl. In common with his brother,he was gifted with the majesty of mien which imposes on the eye; and hisport and countenance were such as became the prodigal expense of velvet,minever, gold, and jewels, by which the gorgeous magnates of the daycommunicated to their appearance the arrogant splendour of their power.

  "Young gentleman," said the earl, after eying with some attention thecomely archer, "I am pleased that you bear the name of Nevile. Vouchsafeto inform me to what scion of our House we are this day indebted for thecredit with which you have upborne its cognizance?"

  "I fear," answered the youth, with a slight but not ungracefulhesitation, "that my lord of Montagu and Northumberland will hardlyforgive the presumption with which I have intruded upon this assemblya name borne by nobles so illustrious, especially if it belong to thoseless fortunate branches of his family which have taken a differentside from himself in the late unhappy commotions. My father was Sir GuyNevile, of Arsdale, in Westmoreland."

  Lord Montagu's lip lost its gracious smile; he glanced quickly at thecourtiers round him, and said gravely, "I grieve to hear it. Had Iknown this, certes my gipsire had still been five nobles the richer.It becomes not one fresh from the favour of King Edward IV. to showcountenance to the son of a man, kinsman though he was, who bore armsfor the usurpers of Lancaster. I pray thee, sir, to doff, henceforth, abadge dedicated only to the service of Royal York. No more, young man;we may not listen to the son of Sir Guy Nevile.--Sirs, shall we ride tosee how the Londoners thrive at quarter-staff?"

  With that, Montagu, deigning no further regard at Nevile, wheeled his,palfrey towards a distant part of the ground, to which the multitude wasalready pressing its turbulent and noisy way.

  "Thou art hard on thy namesake, fair my lord," said a young noble, inwhose dark-auburn hair, aquiline, haughty features, spare but powerfulframe, and inexpressible air of authority and command, were found allthe attributes of the purest and eldest Norman race,--the Patricians ofthe World.

  "Dear Raoul de Fulke," returned Montagu, coldly, "when thou hast reachedmy age of thirty and four, thou wilt learn that no man's fortune castsso broad a shadow as to shelter from the storm the victims of a fallencause."

  "Not so would say thy bold brother," answered Raoul de Fulke, with aslight curl of his proud lip. "And I hold, with him, that no king is sosacred that we should render to his resentments our own kith and kin.God's wot, whosoever wears the badge and springs from the stem of Raoulde Fulke shall never find me question over much whether his fatherfought for York or Lancaster."

  "Hush, rash babbler!" said Montagu, laughing gently; "what would KingEdward say if this speech reached his ears? Our friend," added thecourtier, turning to the rest, "in vain would bar the tide of change;and in this our New England, begirt with new men and new fashions,affect the feudal baronage of the worn-out Norman. But thou art agallant knight, De Fulke, though a poor courtier."

  "The saints keep me so!" returned De Fulke. "From overgluttony, fromover wine-bibbing, from cringing to a king's leman, from quaking at aking's frown, from unbonneting to a greasy mob, from marrying an oldcrone for vile gold, may the saints ever keep Raoul de Fulke and hissons! Amen!" This speech, in which every sentence struck its stingingsatire into one or other of the listeners, was succeeded by an awkwardsilence, which Montagu was the first to break.

  "Pardieu!" he said, "when did Lord Hastings leave us, and what fair facecan have lured the truant?"

  "He left us suddenly on the archery-ground," answered the young Lovell."But as well might we track the breeze to the rose as Lord William'ssigh to maid or matron."

  While thus conversed the cavaliers, and their plumes waved, and theirmantles glittered along the broken ground, Marmaduke Nevile's eyepursued the horsemen with all that bitter feeling of wounded prideand impotent resentment with which Youth regards the first insult itreceives from Power.