The Countess laughed merrily. "This priceless treasure of thine! She might be a king's daughter. I will put her in my daughter's ante-chamber, just behind thee."

The pedlar walked into the ante-chamber, and inspected it carefully, to the great amus.e.m.e.nt of the ladies.

"It is enough," he said, returning. "Lady, my child is not a king's daughter, but she is the dearest treasure of her old father's heart."

The old man had well spoken, for his words, Jew as he was--a creature, according to the views of that day, born to be despised and ill-treated--went straight to the tender heart of the Princess Margaret.

"'Tis but nature," she said softly. "Have no fear, old man: I will take care of thy treasure. What is her name?"

"Will my Lady suffer her grateful servant to kiss her robe? I am Abraham of Norwich, and my daughter's name is Belasez."

Singular indeed were the Jewish names common at this time, beyond a very few Biblical ones, of which the chief were Abraham, Aaron, and Moses-- the last usually corrupted to Moss or Mossy. They were, for men,-- Delecresse ("Dieu le croisse"), Ursel, Leo, Hamon, Kokorell, Emendant, and Bonamy:--for women,--Belasez ("Belle a.s.sez"), Floria, Licorice (these three were the most frequent), Esterote, c.u.n.tessa, Belia, Anegay, Rosia, Genta, and Pucella. They used no surnames beyond the name of the town in which they lived.

"And what years has she?" asked the Countess.

"Seventeen, if it please my Lady."

"Good. I hope she will be clever and tractable.--Now, Madge, what do _you_ want?"

The Princess Marjory wanted a silver necklace, a piece of green silk for a state robe, and some unshorn wool for an every-day dress, beside lamb's fur and b.u.t.tons for tr.i.m.m.i.n.g. b.u.t.tons were fashionable ornaments in those days, and it was not unusual to spend six or eight dozen upon one dress.

"Now, Magot, let me see for thee," said her mother. "Thy two woollen gowns must be shorn for winter, and thou wilt want a velvet one for gala days: but there is time for that by and bye. What thou needest now is a blue Cyprus [c.r.a.pe] robe for thy best summer one, two garments of coloured thread for common, a silk hood, one or two lawn wimples [Note 5], and a pair of corsets. [Note 6.] Thou mayest have a new armilaus [Note 7] if thou wilt."

"And may I not have a new mantle?" was Margaret's answer, in a coaxing tone.

"A new mantle? Thou unconscionable Magot! Somebody will be ruined before thy wants are supplied."

"And a red velvet gipciere, Lady? And I _did_ so want a veil of sendal of Inde!"

"Worse and worse! Come, old man, prithee, measure off the Cyprus, and look out the wimples quickly, or this damsel of mine will leave me never a farthing in my pocket."

"And Eva wants a new gown," suggested Margaret.

"Oh yes!" said the Countess, laughing. "And so does Marie, and so does Doucebelle, I suppose,--and Hawise, I have no doubt. I shall be completely ruined among you!"

"But my Lady will give me the sendal of Inde? I will try to do without the gipciere."

A gipciere was a velvet bag dependent from the waist, which served as a purse or pocket, as occasion required.

"Magot, hast thou no conscience? Come, then, old man, let this unreasonable damsel see thy gipcieres. And if she must have some sendal of Inde, well,--fate is inevitable. What was the other thing, Magot? A new mantle? Oh, shocking! I can't afford that. What is the price of thy black cloth, old man?"

It was easy to see that Margaret would have all she chose to ask, without much pressure. Some linen dresses were also purchased for the young wards of the Earl,--a blue fillet for Eva, and a new barm-cloth [ap.r.o.n] for Marie; and the Countess having chosen some sendal and lawn for her own use, the purchases were at last completed.

The old Jew, helped by Delecresse, repacked his wares with such care as their delicacy and costliness required, and the Countess desired Levina to summon the varlets to bear the heavy burden down to the gate.

"Peace wait on my Lady!" said the pedlar, bowing low as he took leave.

"If it please the Holy One, my Belasez shall be here at my Lady's command before a week is over."

Note 1. This was the answer given to her judges, four hundred years later, by Leonora Galigai, when she was asked to confess what kind of magic she had employed to obtain the favour of Queen Maria de' Medici.

Note 2. The Earl's quotation from Scripture was extremely free, combining Matthew eleven verse 25 with the substance, but not the exact words, of several pa.s.sages in the Psalms. Nor did Friar Matthew Paris know much better, since he refers to it all as "that pa.s.sage in the Gospels."

Note 3. King Henry was given to allusions of this cla.s.s, to the revered memory of his excellent father.

Note 4. "Oh, delightful!" The modern schoolboy's "How jolly" is really a corruption of this. The companion regret was "Ha, chetife!"--("Oh, miserable!")

Note 5. The wimple covered the neck, and was worn chiefly out of doors.

Ladies from a queen to a countess wore it coming over the chin; women of less rank, beneath.

Note 6. Tight-lacing dates from about the twelfth century.

Note 7. A short cloak, worn by both s.e.xes, ornamented with b.u.t.tons.

CHAPTER THREE.

BELASEZ.

"And, born of Thee, she may not always take Earth's accents for the oracles of G.o.d."

_Felicia Hemans_.

The last word had scarcely left the pedlar's lips, when the door of the ante-chamber was flung open, and a boy of Margaret's age burst into the room.

He was fair-haired and bright-faced, with a slender, elegant figure, and all his motions were very agile. Beginning with--"I say, Magot!"--he stopped suddenly both tongue and feet as he caught sight of the Countess.

"Well, Sir Richard?" suggested that lady.

"I cry you mercy, Lady. I did not know you were here."

"And if you had done--what then?"

"Why, then," answered Richard, laughing but colouring, "I suppose I ought to have come in more quietly."

"Ah! Did you ever read with Father Nicholas about an old man who said that the Athenians knew what was right, but the Lacedemonians did it?"

"Your pardon, Lady! I always forget what I read with Father Nicholas."

"I should suppose so. I am afraid there is Athenian blood in your veins, Sir Richard!"

"Lady, if it stand with your pleasure, there is none but true Christian blood in my veins!" was the proud reply.

"_Pure foy_! If you are so proud of your blood, I fear you will disdain to do what I was about to bid you."

"I shall never disdain to execute the commands of a fair lady."