Chivalry Part 7

III

THE STORY OF THE RAT-TRAP

"Leixant a part le stil dels trobados, Dos grans dezigs ban 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 b.u.t.tERFLY, A WASP, AND THEN A G.o.d; WHO SHATTERS IT.

_The Story of the Rat-Trap_

In the year of grace 1298, a little before Candlemas (thus Nicolas begins), came letters to the first King Edward of England from his kinsman and amba.s.sador to France, Earl Edmund of Lancaster. It was perfectly apparent, the Earl wrote, that the French King meant to surrender to the Earl's lord and brother neither the duchy of Guienne nor the Lady Blanch. This lady, I must tell you, was now affianced to King Edward, whose first wife, Dame Ellinor, had died eight years before this time.

The courier found Sire Edward at Ipswich, midway in celebration of his daughter's marriage to the Count of Holland. The King read the letters through and began to laugh; and presently broke into a rage such as was possible (men whispered) only to the demon-tainted blood of Oriander's descendants. Next day the keeper of the privy purse entered upon the house-hold-books a considerable sum "to make good a large ruby and an emerald lost out of his coronet when the King's Grace was pleased to throw it into the fire"; and upon the same day the King recalled Lancaster. The King then despatched yet another emba.s.sy into France to treat about Sire Edward's marriage. This last emba.s.sy was headed by the Earl of Aquitaine: his lieutenant was Lord Pevensey, the King's natural son by Hawise Bulmer.

The Earl got audience of the French King at Mezelais. Walking alone came this Earl of Aquitaine, with a large retinue, into the hall where the barons of France stood according to their rank; in unadorned russet were the big Earl and his attendants, but upon the scarlets and purples of the French lords many jewels shone: it was as though through a corridor of gayly painted sunlit gla.s.s that the grave Earl came to the dais where sat King Philippe.

The King had risen at close sight of the new envoy, and had gulped once or twice, and without speaking, had hurriedly waved his lords out of ear-shot. The King's perturbation was very extraordinary.

"Fair cousin," the Earl now said, without any prelude, "four years ago I was affianced to your sister, Dame Blanch. You stipulated that Gascony be given up to you in guaranty, as a settlement on any children I might have by that incomparable lady. I a.s.sented, and yielded you the province, upon the understanding, sworn to according to the faith of loyal kings, that within forty days you a.s.sign to me its seignory as your va.s.sal. And I have had of you since then neither my province nor my betrothed wife, but only excuses, Sire Philippe."

With eloquence the Frenchman touched upon the emergencies to which the public weal so often drives men of high station, and upon his private grief over the necessity--unavoidable, alas!--of returning a hard answer before the council; and became so voluble that Sire Edward merely laughed in that big-lunged and disconcerting way of his, and afterward lodged for a week at Mezelais, nominally pa.s.sing by his minor t.i.tle of Earl of Aquitaine, and as his own amba.s.sador.

Negotiations became more swift of foot, since a man serves himself with zeal. In addition, the French lords could make nothing of a politician so thick-witted that he replied to every consideration of expediency with a parrot-like reiteration of the circ.u.mstance that already the bargain was signed and sworn to: 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 often in the company of his affianced wife, Dame Blanch.

This lady, I must tell you, was the handsomest of her day; there could nowhere be found a creature more agreeable to every sense; and she compelled the adoring regard of men, it is recorded, not gently but in an imperious fas.h.i.+on. Sire Edward, who, till this, had loved her merely by report, and, in accordance with the high custom of old, through many perusals of her portrait, now appeared besotted. He was an aging man, near sixty, huge and fair, with a crisp beard, and the bright unequal eyes of Manuel of Poictesme. The better-read at Mezelais began to liken this so candidly enamored monarch and his Princess to Sieur Hercules at the feet of Queen Omphale.

The court hunted and slew a stag of ten in the woods of Ermenouel, which stand thick about the chateau; and at the hunt's end, these two had dined at Rigon the forester's hut, in company with Dame Meregrett, the French King's younger sister. She sat a little apart from the betrothed, and stared through the hut's one window. We know, nowadays, it was not merely the trees she was considering.

Dame Blanch seemed undisposed to mirth. "We have slain the stag, beau sire," she said, "and have made of his death a brave diversion. To-day we have had our sport of death,--and presently the gay years wind past us, as our cavalcade came toward the stag, and G.o.d's incurious angel slays us, much as we slew the stag. And we shall not understand, and we shall wonder, as the stag did, in helpless wonder. And Death will have his sport of us, as if in atonement." Her big eyes shone, as when the sun glints upon a sand-bottomed pool. "Ohe, I have known such happiness of late, beau sire, that I am hideously afraid to die."

The King answered, "I too have been very happy of late."

"But it is profitless to talk about death thus drearily. Let us flout him, instead, with some gay song." And thereupon she handed Sire Edward a lute.

The King accepted it. "Death is not reasonably mocked by any person,"

Sire Edward said, "since in the end he conquers, and of the lips that gibed at him remains but a little dust. Rather should I, who already stand beneath a lifted sword, make for my destined and inescapable conqueror a Sirvente, which is the Song of Service."

Sang Sire Edward:[3]

"I sing of Death, that comes unto the king, And lightly plucks him from the cus.h.i.+oned 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; And ousts the remnant, nakedly to gain Styx' formless sh.o.r.e 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 battle-prowess--or of Tamburlaine Darius, Jeshua, or 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 counsellors--"

"True, O G.o.d!" murmured the tiny woman, who sat beside the window yonder. With that, Dame Meregrett rose, and pa.s.sed from the room.

The two lovers started, and laughed, and afterward paid little heed to her outgoing. Sire Edward had put aside the lute and sat now regarding the Princess. His big left hand propped the bearded chin; his grave countenance was flushed, and his intent eyes shone under their s.h.a.ggy brows, very steadily, although the left eye was now so nearly shut as to reveal the merest spark.

Irresolutely, Dame Blanch plucked at her gown; then rearranged a fold of it, and with composure awaited the ensuing action, afraid at bottom, but not at all ill-pleased; and she looked downward.

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

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

"She has denied me nothing," he sadly said, "save the one thing that makes this business of living seem a rational proceeding. Fame and power and wealth fate has accorded me, no doubt, but never the common joys of life. And, look you, my Princess, I am of aging person now. During some thirty years I have ruled England according to my interpretation of G.o.d's will as it was anciently made manifest by the holy Evangelists; and during that period I have ruled England not without odd by-ends of commendation: yet behold, to-day I forget the world-applauded, excellent King Edward, and remember only Edward Plantagenet--hot-blooded and desirous man!--of whom that much-commended king has made a prisoner all these years."

"It is the duty of exalted persons," Blanch unsteadily said, "to put aside such private inclinations as their b.r.e.a.s.t.s may harbor--"

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

"Lord," she presently faltered, "lord, you know that we are already betrothed, and, in sober verity, Love cannot extend his laws between husband and wife, since the gifts of love are voluntary, and husband and wife are but the slaves of duty--"

"Troubadourish nonsense!" Sire Edward said; "yet it is true that the gifts of love are voluntary. And therefore--Ha, most beautiful, what have you and I to do with all this chaffering over Guienne?" The two stood very close to each other now. Blanch said, "It is a high matter--" Then on a sudden the full-veined girl was aglow. "It is a trivial matter." He took her in his arms, since already her cheeks flared in scarlet antic.i.p.ation of the event.

Thus holding her, he wooed the girl tempestuously. Here, indeed, was Sieur Hercules enslaved, burned by a fiercer fire than that of Nessus, and the huge bulk of the unconquerable visibly shaken by his adoration.

In a disordered tapestry of verbiage, aflap in winds of pa.s.sion, she presently beheld herself prefigured by Balkis, the Judean's lure, and by that Princess of Cyprus who reigned in Aristotle's time, and by Nicolete, the King's daughter of Carthage,--since the first flush of morning was as a rush-light before her resplendency, the man swore; and in conclusion, he likened her to a modern Countess of Tripolis, for love of whom he, like Rudel, had cleft the seas, and losing whom he must inevitably die as did Rudel. Sire Edward snapped his fingers now over any consideration of Guienne. He would conquer for her all Muscovy and all Cataia, too, if she desired mere acreage. Meanwhile he wanted her, and his hard and savage pa.s.sion beat down opposition as if with a bludgeon.

"Heart's emperor," the trembling girl replied, "I think that you were cast in some larger mould than we of France. Oh, none of us may dare resist you! and I know that nothing matters, nothing in all the world, save that you love me. Then take me, since you will it,--and take me not as King, since you will otherwise, but as Edward Plantagenet. For listen! by good luck you have this afternoon despatched Rigon for Chevrieul, where to-morrow we were to hunt the great boar. So to-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 my chaplain. Behold, he marries us, as glibly as though we two were peasants. Poor king and princess!" cried Dame Blanch, and in a voice which thrilled him, "shall ye not, then, dare to be but man and woman?"

"Ha!" the King said. "So the chaplain makes a third! Well, the King is pleased to loose his prisoner, that long-imprisoned Edward Plantagenet: and I will do it."

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

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

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

"Presently will come to you 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 G.o.d, go! Go, while there is yet time!" Sire Edward reflected. Undoubtedly, to light on Edward Longshanks alone in a forest would appear to King Philippe, if properly attended, a tempting chance to settle divers difficulties, once for all; and Sire Edward knew the conscience of his old opponent to be invulnerable. The act would violate the core of hospitality and knighthood, no doubt, but its outcome would be a very definite gain to France, and for the rest, merely a dead body in a ditch. Not a monarch in Christendom, Sire Edward reflected, but feared and in consequence hated the Hammer of the Scots, and in further consequence would not lift a finger to avenge him; and not a being in the universe would rejoice more heartily at the success of Philippe's treachery than would Sire Edward's son and immediate successor, the young Prince Edward of Caernarvon. Taking matters by and large, Philippe had all the powers of common-sense to back him in contriving an a.s.sa.s.sination.

What Sire Edward said was, "Dame Blanch, then, knew of this?" But Meregrett's pitiful eyes had already answered him, and he laughed a little.

"In that event, I have to-night enregistered my name among the goodly company of Love's Lunatics,--as yokefellow with Dan Merlin in his thornbush, and with wise Salomon when he capered upon the high places of Chemosh, and with Duke Ares sheepishly agrin in the net of Mulciber.

Rogues all, madame! fools all! yet always the flesh trammels us, and allures the soul to such sensual delights as bar its pa.s.sage toward the eternal life wherein alone lies the empire and the heritage of the soul.

And why does this carnal prison so impede the soul? Because Satan once ranked among the sons of G.o.d, and the Eternal Father, as I take it, has not yet forgotten the antique relations.h.i.+p,--and hence it is permitted even in our late time that always the flesh rebel against the spirit, and that always these so tiny and so thin-voiced tricksters, these highly tinted miracles of iniquity, so gracious in demeanor and so starry-eyed--"

Then he turned and pointed, no longer the orotund zealot but the expectant captain now. "Look, my Princess!" In the pathway from which he had recently emerged stood a man in full armor like a sentinel. "Mort de Dieu, we can but try to get out of this," Sire Edward said.

"You should have tried without talking so much," replied Meregrett. She followed him. And presently, in a big splash of moonlight, the armed man's falchion glittered across their way. "Back," he bade them, "for by the King's orders, I can let no man pa.s.s."

"It would be very easy now to strangle this herring," Sire Edward reflected.