Blondel looked down, and busied himself with the strings of his harp, to hide an involuntary smile which crept over his features; but it escaped not Richard's observation.

"By my faith, thou laughest at me, Blondel," he said; "and, in good truth, every man deserves it who presumes to play the master when he should be the pupil. But we kings get bad habits of self-opinion. Come, on with thy lay, dearest Blondel--on after thine own fashion, better than aught that we can suggest, though we must needs be talking."

Blondel resumed the lay; but as extemporaneous composition was familiar to him, he failed not to comply with the King's hints, and was perhaps not displeased to show with how much ease he could new-model a poem, even while in the act of recitation.

THE b.l.o.o.d.y VEST.

FYTTE SECOND.

The Baptist's fair morrow beheld gallant feats-- There was winning of honour and losing of seats; There was hewing with falchions and splintering of staves-- The victors won glory, the vanquish'd won graves.

Oh, many a knight there fought bravely and well, Yet one was accounted his peers to excel, And 'twas he whose sole armour on body and breast Seem'd the weed of a damsel when bouned for her rest.

There were some dealt him wounds that were b.l.o.o.d.y and sore, But others respected his plight, and forbore.

"It is some oath of honour," they said, "and I trow, 'Twere unknightly to slay him achieving his vow."

Then the Prince, for his sake, bade the tournament cease-- He flung down his warder, the trumpets sung peace; And the judges declare, and compet.i.tors yield, That the Knight of the Night-gear was first in the field.

The feast it was nigh, and the ma.s.s it was nigher, When before the fair Princess low looted a squire, And deliver'd a garment unseemly to view, With sword-cut and spear-thrust, all hack'd and pierc'd through; All rent and all tatter'd, all clotted with blood, With foam of the horses, with dust, and with mud; Not the point of that lady's small finger, I ween, Could have rested on spot was unsullied and clean.

"This token my master, Sir Thomas a Kent, Restores to the Princess of fair Benevent; He that climbs the tall tree has won right to the fruit, He that leaps the wide gulf should prevail in his suit; Through life's utmost peril the prize I have won, And now must the faith of my mistress be shown: For she who prompts knights on such danger to run Must avouch his true service in front of the sun.

"'I restore,' says my master, 'the garment I've worn, And I claim of the Princess to don it in turn; For its stains and its rents she should prize it the more, Since by shame 'tis unsullied, though crimson'd with gore.'"

Then deep blush'd the Princess--yet kiss'd she and press'd The blood-spotted robes to her lips and her breast.

"Go tell my true knight, church and chamber shall show If I value the blood on this garment or no."

And when it was time for the n.o.bles to pa.s.s, In solemn procession to minster and ma.s.s, The first walk'd the Princess in purple and pall, But the blood-besmear'd night-robe she wore over all; And eke, in the hall, where they all sat at dine, When she knelt to her father and proffer'd the wine, Over all her rich robes and state jewels she wore That wimple unseemly bedabbled with gore.

Then lords whisper'd ladies, as well you may think, And ladies replied with nod, t.i.tter, and wink; And the Prince, who in anger and shame had look'd down, Turn'd at length to his daughter, and spoke with a frown: "Now since thou hast publish'd thy folly and guilt, E'en atone with thy hand for the blood thou hast spilt; Yet sore for your boldness you both will repent, When you wander as exiles from fair Benevent."

Then out spoke stout Thomas, in hall where he stood, Exhausted and feeble, but dauntless of mood: "The blood that I lost for this daughter of thine, I pour'd forth as freely as flask gives its wine; And if for my sake she brooks penance and blame, Do not doubt I will save her from suffering and shame; And light will she reck of thy princedom and rent, When I hail her, in England, the Countess of Kent."

A murmur of applause ran through the a.s.sembly, following the example of Richard himself, who loaded with praises his favourite minstrel, and ended by presenting him with a ring of considerable value. The Queen hastened to distinguish the favourite by a rich bracelet, and many of the n.o.bles who were present followed the royal example.

"Is our cousin Edith," said the King, "become insensible to the sound of the harp she once loved?"

"She thanks Blondel for his lay," replied Edith, "but doubly the kindness of the kinsman who suggested it."

"Thou art angry, cousin," said the King; "angry because thou hast heard of a woman more wayward than thyself. But you escape me not. I will walk a s.p.a.ce homeward with you towards the Queen's pavilion. We must have conference together ere the night has waned into morning."

The Queen and her attendants were now on foot, and the other guests withdrew from the royal tent. A train with blazing torches, and an escort of archers, awaited Berengaria without the pavilion, and she was soon on her way homeward. Richard, as he had proposed, walked beside his kinswoman, and compelled her to accept of his arm as her support, so that they could speak to each other without being overheard.

"What answer, then, am I to return to the n.o.ble Soldan?" said Richard.

"The kings and princes are falling from me, Edith; this new quarrel hath alienated them once more. I would do something for the Holy Sepulchre by composition, if not by victory; and the chance of my doing this depends, alas, on the caprice of a woman. I would lay my single spear in the rest against ten of the best lances in Christendom, rather than argue with a wilful wench who knows not what is for her own good. What answer, coz, am I to return to the Soldan? It must be decisive."

"Tell him," said Edith, "that the poorest of the Plantagenets will rather wed with misery than with misbelief."

"Shall I say with slavery, Edith?" said the King. "Methinks that is nearer thy thoughts."

"There is no room," said Edith, "for the suspicion you so grossly insinuate. Slavery of the body might have been pitied, but that of the soul is only to be despised. Shame to thee, King of merry England. Thou hast enthralled both the limbs and the spirit of a knight, one scarce less famed than thyself."

"Should I not prevent my kinswoman from drinking poison, by sullying the vessel which contained it, if I saw no other means of disgusting her with the fatal liquor?" replied the King.

"It is thyself," answered Edith, "that would press me to drink poison, because it is proffered in a golden chalice."

"Edith," said Richard, "I cannot force thy resolution; but beware you shut not the door which Heaven opens. The hermit of Engaddi--he whom Popes and Councils have regarded as a prophet--hath read in the stars that thy marriage shall reconcile me with a powerful enemy, and that thy husband shall be Christian, leaving thus the fairest ground to hope that the conversion of the Soldan, and the bringing in of the sons of Ishmael to the pale of the church, will be the consequence of thy wedding with Saladin. Come, thou must make some sacrifice rather than mar such happy prospects."

"Men may sacrifice rams and goats," said Edith, "but not honour and conscience. I have heard that it was the dishonour of a Christian maiden which brought the Saracens into Spain; the shame of another is no likely mode of expelling them from Palestine."

"Dost thou call it shame to become an empress?" said the King.

"I call it shame and dishonour to profane a Christian sacrament by entering into it with an infidel whom it cannot bind; and I call it foul dishonour that I, the descendant of a Christian princess, should become of free will the head of a haram of heathen concubines."

"Well, kinswoman," said the King, after a pause, "I must not quarrel with thee, though I think thy dependent condition might have dictated more compliance."

"My liege," replied Edith, "your Grace hath worthily succeeded to all the wealth, dignity, and dominion of the House of Plantagenet--do not, therefore, begrudge your poor kinswoman some small share of their pride."

"By my faith, wench," said the King, "thou hast unhorsed me with that very word, so we will kiss and be friends. I will presently dispatch thy answer to Saladin. But after all, coz, were it not better to suspend your answer till you have seen him? Men say he is pre-eminently handsome."

"There is no chance of our meeting, my lord," said Edith.

"By Saint George, but there is next to a certainty of it," said the King; "for Saladin will doubtless afford us a free field for the doing of this new battle of the Standard, and will witness it himself.

Berengaria is wild to behold it also; and I dare be sworn not a feather of you, her companions and attendants, will remain behind--least of all thou thyself, fair coz. But come, we have reached the pavilion, and must part; not in unkindness thou, oh--nay, thou must seal it with thy lip as well as thy hand, sweet Edith--it is my right as a sovereign to kiss my pretty va.s.sals."

He embraced her respectfully and affectionately, and returned through the moonlit camp, humming to himself such s.n.a.t.c.hes of Blondel's lay as he could recollect.

On his arrival he lost no time in making up his dispatches for Saladin, and delivered them to the Nubian, with a charge to set out by peep of day on his return to the Soldan.

CHAPTER XXVII.

We heard the Techir--so these Arabs call Their shout of onset, when, with loud acclaim, They challenge Heaven to give them victory.

SIEGE OF DAMASCUS.

On the subsequent morning Richard was invited to a conference by Philip of France, in which the latter, with many expressions of his high esteem for his brother of England, communicated to him in terms extremely courteous, but too explicit to be misunderstood, his positive intention to return to Europe, and to the cares of his kingdom, as entirely despairing of future success in their undertaking, with their diminished forces and civil discords. Richard remonstrated, but in vain; and when the conference ended he received without surprise a manifesto from the Duke of Austria, and several other princes, announcing a resolution similar to that of Philip, and in no modified terms, a.s.signing, for their defection from the cause of the Cross, the inordinate ambition and arbitrary domination of Richard of England. All hopes of continuing the war with any prospect of ultimate success were now abandoned; and Richard, while he shed bitter tears over his disappointed hopes of glory, was little consoled by the recollection that the failure was in some degree to be imputed to the advantages which he had given his enemies by his own hasty and imprudent temper.

"They had not dared to have deserted my father thus," he said to De Vaux, in the bitterness of his resentment. "No slanders they could have uttered against so wise a king would have been believed in Christendom; whereas--fool that I am!--I have not only afforded them a pretext for deserting me, but even a colour for casting all the blame of the rupture upon my unhappy foibles."

These thoughts were so deeply galling to the King, that De Vaux was rejoiced when the arrival of an amba.s.sador from Saladin turned his reflections into a different channel.

This new envoy was an Emir much respected by the Soldan, whose name was Abdallah el Hadgi. He derived his descent from the family of the Prophet, and the race or tribe of Hashem, in witness of which genealogy he wore a green turban of large dimensions. He had also three times performed the journey to Mecca, from which he derived his epithet of El Hadgi, or the Pilgrim. Notwithstanding these various pretensions to sanct.i.ty, Abdallah was (for an Arab) a boon companion, who enjoyed a merry tale, and laid aside his gravity so far as to quaff a blithe flagon when secrecy ensured him against scandal. He was likewise a statesman, whose abilities had been used by Saladin in various negotiations with the Christian princes, and particularly with Richard, to whom El Hadgi was personally known and acceptable. Animated by the cheerful acquiescence with which the envoy of Saladin afforded a fair field for the combat, a safe conduct for all who might choose to witness it, and offered his own person as a guarantee of his fidelity, Richard soon forgot his disappointed hopes, and the approaching dissolution of the Christian league, in the interesting discussions preceding a combat in the lists.

The station called the Diamond of the Desert was a.s.signed for the place of conflict, as being nearly at an equal distance betwixt the Christian and Saracen camps. It was agreed that Conrade of Montserrat, the defendant, with his G.o.dfathers, the Archduke of Austria and the Grand Master of the Templars, should appear there on the day fixed for the combat, with a hundred armed followers, and no more; that Richard of England and his brother Salisbury, who supported the accusation, should attend with the same number, to protect his champion; and that the Soldan should bring with him a guard of five hundred chosen followers, a band considered as not more than equal to the two hundred Christian lances. Such persons of consideration as either party chose to invite to witness the contest were to wear no other weapons than their swords, and to come without defensive armour. The Soldan undertook the preparation of the lists, and to provide accommodations and refreshments of every kind for all who were to a.s.sist at the solemnity; and his letters expressed with much courtesy the pleasure which he antic.i.p.ated in the prospect of a personal and peaceful meeting with the Melech Ric, and his anxious desire to render his reception as agreeable as possible.

All preliminaries being arranged and communicated to the defendant and his G.o.dfathers, Abdullah the Hadgi was admitted to a more private interview, where he heard with delight the strains of Blondel. Having first carefully put his green turban out of sight, and a.s.sumed a Greek cap in its stead, he requited the Norman minstrel's music with a drinking song from the Persian, and quaffed a hearty flagon of Cyprus wine, to show that his practice matched his principles. On the next day, grave and sober as the water-drinker Mirglip, he bent his brow to the ground before Saladin's footstool, and rendered to the Soldan an account of his emba.s.sy.

On the day before that appointed for the combat Conrade and his friends set off by daybreak to repair to the place a.s.signed, and Richard left the camp at the same hour and for the same purpose; but, as had been agreed upon, he took his journey by a different route--a precaution which had been judged necessary, to prevent the possibility of a quarrel betwixt their armed attendants.