CHAPTER XXXIX.
Room! room! for my horse will wince If he comes within so many yards of a prince; For to tell you true, and in rhyme, He was foal'd in Queen Elizabeth's time; When the great Earl of Lester In his castle did feast her. --BEN JONSON, MASQUE OF OWLS.
The amusement with which Elizabeth and her court were next day to beregaled was an exhibition by the true-hearted men of Coventry, who wereto represent the strife between the English and the Danes, agreeablyto a custom long preserved in their ancient borough, and warranted fortruth by old histories and chronicles. In this pageant one party of thetownsfolk presented the Saxons and the other the Danes, and set forth,both in rude rhymes and with hard blows, the contentions of these twofierce nations, and the Amazonian courage of the English women, who,according to the story, were the principal agents in the generalmassacre of the Danes, which took place at Hocktide, in the year of God1012. This sport, which had been long a favourite pastime with themen of Coventry, had, it seems, been put down by the influence ofsome zealous clergymen of the more precise cast, who chanced to haveconsiderable influence with the magistrates. But the generality of theinhabitants had petitioned the Queen that they might have their playagain, and be honoured with permission to represent it before herHighness. And when the matter was canvassed in the little council whichusually attended the Queen for dispatch of business, the proposal,although opposed by some of the stricter sort, found favour in the eyesof Elizabeth, who said that such toys occupied, without offence, theminds of many who, lacking them, might find worse subjects of pastime;and that their pastors, however commendable for learning and godliness,were somewhat too sour in preaching against the pastimes of their flocksand so the pageant was permitted to proceed.
Accordingly, after a morning repast, which Master Laneham calls anambrosial breakfast, the principal persons of the court in attendanceupon her Majesty pressed to the Gallery-tower, to witness the approachof the two contending parties of English and Danes; and after a signalhad been given, the gate which opened in the circuit of the Chase wasthrown wide to admit them. On they came, foot and horse; for some ofthe more ambitious burghers and yeomen had put themselves into fantasticdresses, imitating knights, in order to resemble the chivalry of the twodifferent nations. However, to prevent fatal accidents, they were notpermitted to appear on real horses, but had only license to accoutrethemselves with those hobby-horses, as they are called, which ancientlyformed the chief delight of a morrice-dance, and which still areexhibited on the stage, in the grand battle fought at the conclusionof Mr. Bayes's tragedy. The infantry followed in similar disguises.The whole exhibition was to be considered as a sort of anti-masque, orburlesque of the more stately pageants in which the nobility and gentrybore part in the show, and, to the best of their knowledge, imitatedwith accuracy the personages whom they represented. The Hocktide playwas of a different character, the actors being persons of inferiordegree, and their habits the better fitted for the occasion, the moreincongruous and ridiculous that they were in themselves. Accordinglytheir array, which the progress of our tale allows us no time todescribe, was ludicrous enough; and their weapons, though sufficientlyformidable to deal sound blows, were long alder-poles instead of lances,and sound cudgels for swords; and for fence, both cavalry and infantrywere well equipped with stout headpieces and targets, both made of thickleather.
Captain Coxe, that celebrated humorist of Coventry, whose library ofballads, almanacs, and penny histories, fairly wrapped up in parchment,and tied round for security with a piece of whipcord, remains stillthe envy of antiquaries, being himself the ingenious person underwhose direction the pageant had been set forth, rode valiantly on hishobby-horse before the bands of English, high-trussed, saith Laneham,and brandishing his long sword, as became an experienced man of war, whohad fought under the Queen's father, bluff King Henry, at the siege ofBoulogne. This chieftain was, as right and reason craved, the first toenter the lists, and passing the Gallery at the head of his myrmidons,kissed the hilt of his sword to the Queen, and executed at the sametime a gambade, the like whereof had never been practised by two-leggedhobby-horse. Then passing on with all his followers of cavaliers andinfantry, he drew them up with martial skill at the opposite extremityof the bridge, or tilt-yard, until his antagonist should be fairlyprepared for the onset.
This was no long interval; for the Danish cavalry and infantry, no wayinferior to the English in number, valour, and equipment, instantlyarrived, with the northern bagpipe blowing before them in token of theircountry, and headed by a cunning master of defence, only inferior to therenowned Captain Coxe, if to him, in the discipline of war. The Danes,as invaders, took their station under the Gallery-tower, and oppositeto that of Mortimer; and when their arrangements were completely made, asignal was given for the encounter.
Their first charge upon each other was rather moderate, for either partyhad some dread of being forced into the lake. But as reinforcements cameup on either side, the encounter grew from a skirmish into a blazingbattle. They rushed upon one another, as Master Laneham testifies, likerams inflamed by jealousy, with such furious encounter that both partieswere often overthrown, and the clubs and targets made a most horribleclatter. In many instances that happened which had been dreaded by themore experienced warriors who began the day of strife. The rails whichdefended the ledges of the bridge had been, perhaps on purpose, left butslightly fastened, and gave way under the pressure of those who throngedto the combat, so that the hot courage of many of the combatantsreceived a sufficient cooling. These incidents might have occasionedmore serious damage than became such an affray, for many of thechampions who met with this mischance could not swim, and those whocould were encumbered with their suits of leathern and of paper armour;but the case had been provided for, and there were several boats inreadiness to pick up the unfortunate warriors and convey them to the dryland, where, dripping and dejected, they comforted themselves with thehot ale and strong waters which were liberally allowed to them, withoutshowing any desire to re-enter so desperate a conflict.
Captain Coxe alone, that paragon of Black-Letter antiquaries, aftertwice experiencing, horse and man, the perilous leap from the bridgeinto the lake, equal to any extremity to which the favourite heroes ofchivalry, whose exploits he studied in an abridged form, whether Amadis,Belianis, Bevis, or his own Guy of Warwick, had ever been subjectedto--Captain Coxe, we repeat, did alone, after two such mischances, rushagain into the heat of conflict, his bases and the footcloth of hishobby-horse dropping water, and twice reanimated by voice and examplethe drooping spirits of the English; so that at last their victory overthe Danish invaders became, as was just and reasonable, complete anddecisive. Worthy he was to be rendered immortal by the pen of BenJonson, who, fifty years afterwards, deemed that a masque, exhibited atKenilworth, could be ushered in by none with so much propriety as by theghost of Captain Coxe, mounted upon his redoubted hobby-horse.
These rough, rural gambols may not altogether agree with the reader'spreconceived idea of an entertainment presented before Elizabeth, inwhose reign letters revived with such brilliancy, and whose court,governed by a female whose sense of propriety was equal to her strengthof mind, was no less distinguished for delicacy and refinement than hercouncils for wisdom and fortitude. But whether from the political wishto seem interested in popular sports, or whether from a spark of oldHenry's rough, masculine spirit, which Elizabeth sometimes displayed,it is certain the Queen laughed heartily at the imitation, or ratherburlesque, of chivalry which was presented in the Coventry play. Shecalled near her person the Earl of Sussex and Lord Hunsdon, partlyperhaps to make amends to the former for the long and private audienceswith which she had indulged the Earl of Leicester, by engaging him inconversation upon a pastime which better suited his taste than thosepageants that were furnished forth from the stores of antiquity. Thedisposition which the Queen showed to laugh and jest with her militaryleaders gave the Earl of Leicester the opportunity he had been watchingfor withdrawi
ng from the royal presence, which to the court around, sowell had he chosen his time, had the graceful appearance of leaving hisrival free access to the Queen's person, instead of availing himself ofhis right as her landlord to stand perpetually betwixt others and thelight of her countenance.
Leicester's thoughts, however, had a far different object frommere courtesy; for no sooner did he see the Queen fairly engaged inconversation with Sussex and Hunsdon, behind whose back stood SirNicholas Blount, grinning from ear to ear at each word which was spoken,than, making a sign to Tressilian, who, according to appointment,watched his motions at a little distance, he extricated himself from thepress, and walking towards the Chase, made his way through the crowds ofordinary spectators, who, with open mouth, stood gazing on the battleof the English and the Danes. When he had accomplished this, which wasa work of some difficulty, he shot another glance behind him to see thatTressilian had been equally successful; and as soon as he saw him alsofree from the crowd, he led the way to a small thicket, behind whichstood a lackey, with two horses ready saddled. He flung himself on theone, and made signs to Tressilian to mount the other, who obeyed withoutspeaking a single word.
Leicester then spurred his horse, and galloped without stopping untilhe reached a sequestered spot, environed by lofty oaks, about a mile'sdistance from the Castle, and in an opposite direction from the scene towhich curiosity was drawing every spectator. He there dismounted, boundhis horse to a tree, and only pronouncing the words, "Here there is norisk of interruption," laid his cloak across his saddle, and drew hissword.
Tressilian imitated his example punctually, yet could not forbearsaying, as he drew his weapon, "My lord, as I have been known to many asone who does not fear death when placed in balance with honour, methinksI may, without derogation, ask wherefore, in the name of all that ishonourable, your lordship has dared to offer me such a mark of disgraceas places us on these terms with respect to each other?"
"If you like not such marks of my scorn," replied the Earl, "betakeyourself instantly to your weapon, lest I repeat the usage you complainof."
"It shall not need, my lord," said Tressilian. "God judge betwixt us!and your blood, if you fall, be on your own head."
He had scarce completed the sentence when they instantly closed incombat.
But Leicester, who was a perfect master of defence among all otherexterior accomplishments of the time, had seen on the preceding nightenough of Tressilian's strength and skill to make him fight with morecaution than heretofore, and prefer a secure revenge to a hasty one.For some minutes they fought with equal skill and fortune, till, ina desperate lunge which Leicester successfully put aside, Tressilianexposed himself at disadvantage; and in a subsequent attempt to close,the Earl forced his sword from his hand, and stretched him on theground. With a grim smile he held the point of his rapier within twoinches of the throat of his fallen adversary, and placing his foot atthe same time upon his breast, bid him confess his villainous wrongstowards him, and prepare for death.
"I have no villainy nor wrong towards thee to confess," answeredTressilian, "and am better prepared for death than thou. Use thineadvantage as thou wilt, and may God forgive you! I have given you nocause for this."
"No cause!" exclaimed the Earl, "no cause!--but why parley with such aslave? Die a liar, as thou hast lived!"
He had withdrawn his arm for the purpose of striking the fatal blow,when it was suddenly seized from behind.
The Earl turned in wrath to shake off the unexpected obstacle, but wassurprised to find that a strange-looking boy had hold of his sword-arm,and clung to it with such tenacity of grasp that he could not shake himof without a considerable struggle, in the course of which Tressilianhad opportunity to rise and possess himself once more of his weapon.Leicester again turned towards him with looks of unabated ferocity, andthe combat would have recommenced with still more desperation on bothsides, had not the boy clung to Lord Leicester's knees, and in a shrilltone implored him to listen one moment ere he prosecuted this quarrel.
"Stand up, and let me go," said Leicester, "or, by Heaven, I will piercethee with my rapier! What hast thou to do to bar my way to revenge?"
"Much--much!" exclaimed the undaunted boy, "since my folly has beenthe cause of these bloody quarrels between you, and perchance of worseevils. Oh, if you would ever again enjoy the peace of an innocent mind,if you hope again to sleep in peace and unhaunted by remorse, take somuch leisure as to peruse this letter, and then do as you list."
While he spoke in this eager and earnest manner, to which his singularfeatures and voice gave a goblin-like effect, he held up to Leicestera packet, secured with a long tress of woman's hair of a beautifullight-brown colour. Enraged as he was, nay, almost blinded with fury tosee his destined revenge so strangely frustrated, the Earl of Leicestercould not resist this extraordinary supplicant. He snatched the letterfrom his hand--changed colour as he looked on the superscription--undidwith faltering hand the knot which secured it--glanced over thecontents, and staggering back, would have fallen, had he not restedagainst the trunk of a tree, where he stood for an instant, his eyesbent on the letter, and his sword-point turned to the ground, withoutseeming to be conscious of the presence of an antagonist towards whomhe had shown little mercy, and who might in turn have taken him atadvantage. But for such revenge Tressilian was too noble-minded. Healso stood still in surprise, waiting the issue of this strange fit ofpassion, but holding his weapon ready to defend himself in case of needagainst some new and sudden attack on the part of Leicester, whom heagain suspected to be under the influence of actual frenzy. The boy,indeed, he easily recognized as his old acquaintance Dickon, whose face,once seen, was scarcely to be forgotten; but how he came hither at socritical a moment, why his interference was so energetic, and, aboveall, how it came to produce so powerful an effect upon Leicester, werequestions which he could not solve.
But the letter was of itself powerful enough to work effects yet morewonderful. It was that which the unfortunate Amy had written to herhusband, in which she alleged the reasons and manner of her flight fromCumnor Place, informed him of her having made her way to Kenilworthto enjoy his protection, and mentioned the circumstances which hadcompelled her to take refuge in Tressilian's apartment, earnestlyrequesting he would, without delay, assign her a more suitable asylum.The letter concluded with the most earnest expressions of devotedattachment and submission to his will in all things, and particularlyrespecting her situation and place of residence, conjuring him only thatshe might not be placed under the guardianship or restraint of Varney.The letter dropped from Leicester's hand when he had perused it. "Takemy sword," he said, "Tressilian, and pierce my heart, as I would but nowhave pierced yours!"
"My lord," said Tressilian, "you have done me great wrong, but somethingwithin my breast ever whispered that it was by egregious error."
"Error, indeed!" said Leicester, and handed him the letter; "I have beenmade to believe a man of honour a villain, and the best and purest ofcreatures a false profligate.--Wretched boy, why comes this letter now,and where has the bearer lingered?"
"I dare not tell you, my lord," said the boy, withdrawing, as if to keepbeyond his reach; "but here comes one who was the messenger."
Wayland at the same moment came up; and interrogated by Leicester,hastily detailed all the circumstances of his escape with Amy, the fatalpractices which had driven her to flight, and her anxious desire tothrow herself under the instant protection of her husband--pointingout the evidence of the domestics of Kenilworth, "who could not," heobserved, "but remember her eager inquiries after the Earl of Leicesteron her first arrival."
"The villains!" exclaimed Leicester; "but oh, that worst of villains,Varney!--and she is even now in his power!"
"But not, I trust in God," said Tressilian, "with any commands of fatalimport?"
"No, no, no!" exclaimed the Earl hastily. "I said something in madness;but it was recalled, fully recalled, by a hasty messenger, and she isnow--she must now be safe."
"
Yes," said Tressilian, "she MUST be safe, and I MUST be assured of hersafety. My own quarrel with you is ended, my lord; but there is anotherto begin with the seducer of Amy Robsart, who has screened his guiltunder the cloak of the infamous Varney."
"The SEDUCER of Amy!" replied Leicester, with a voice like thunder; "sayher husband!--her misguided, blinded, most unworthy husband! She isas surely Countess of Leicester as I am belted Earl. Nor can you, sir,point out that manner of justice which I will not render her at my ownfree will. I need scarce say I fear not your compulsion."
The generous nature of Tressilian was instantly turned fromconsideration of anything personal to himself, and centred at onceupon Amy's welfare. He had by no means undoubting confidence in thefluctuating resolutions of Leicester, whose mind seemed to him agitatedbeyond the government of calm reason; neither did he, notwithstandingthe assurances he had received, think Amy safe in the hands of hisdependants. "My lord," he said calmly, "I mean you no offence, and amfar from seeking a quarrel. But my duty to Sir Hugh Robsart compels meto carry this matter instantly to the Queen, that the Countess's rankmay be acknowledged in her person."
"You shall not need, sir," replied the Earl haughtily; "do not dareto interfere. No voice but Dudley's shall proclaim Dudley's infamy. ToElizabeth herself will I tell it; and then for Cumnor Place with thespeed of life and death!"
So saying, he unbound his horse from the tree, threw himself into thesaddle, and rode at full gallop towards the Castle.
"Take me before you, Master Tressilian," said the boy, seeing Tressilianmount in the same haste; "my tale is not all told out, and I need yourprotection."
Tressilian complied, and followed the Earl, though at a less furiousrate. By the way the boy confessed, with much contrition, that inresentment at Wayland's evading all his inquiries concerning the lady,after Dickon conceived he had in various ways merited his confidence,he had purloined from him in revenge the letter with which Amy hadentrusted him for the Earl of Leicester. His purpose was to haverestored it to him that evening, as he reckoned himself sure of meetingwith him, in consequence of Wayland's having to perform the part ofArion in the pageant. He was indeed something alarmed when he saw towhom the letter was addressed; but he argued that, as Leicester didnot return to Kenilworth until that evening, it would be again in thepossession of the proper messenger as soon as, in the nature of things,it could possibly be delivered. But Wayland came not to the pageant,having been in the interim expelled by Lambourne from the Castle; andthe boy, not being able to find him, or to get speech of Tressilian, andfinding himself in possession of a letter addressed to no less a personthan the Earl of Leicester, became much afraid of the consequencesof his frolic. The caution, and indeed the alarm, which Wayland hadexpressed respecting Varney and Lambourne, led him to judge that theletter must be designed for the Earl's own hand, and that he mightprejudice the lady by giving it to any of the domestics. He made anattempt or two to obtain an audience of Leicester; but the singularityof his features and the meanness of his appearance occasioned his beingalways repulsed by the insolent menials whom he applied to for thatpurpose. Once, indeed, he had nearly succeeded, when, in prowlingabout, he found in the grotto the casket, which he knew to belong to theunlucky Countess, having seen it on her journey; for nothing escaped hisprying eye. Having striven in vain to restore it either to Tressilianor the Countess, he put it into the hands, as we have seen, of Leicesterhimself, but unfortunately he did not recognize him in his disguise.
At length the boy thought he was on the point of succeeding when theEarl came down to the lower part of the hall; but just as he was aboutto accost him, he was prevented by Tressilian. As sharp in ear as inwit, the boy heard the appointment settled betwixt them, to take placein the Pleasance, and resolved to add a third to the party, in hopethat, either in coming or returning, he might find an opportunity ofdelivering the letter to Leicester; for strange stories began to flitamong the domestics, which alarmed him for the lady's safety. Accident,however, detained Dickon a little behind the Earl, and as he reachedthe arcade he saw them engaged in combat; in consequence of which hehastened to alarm the guard, having little doubt that what bloodshedtook place betwixt them might arise out of his own frolic. Continuing tolurk in the portico, he heard the second appointment which Leicester atparting assigned to Tressilian; and was keeping them in view duringthe encounter of the Coventry men, when, to his surprise, he recognizedWayland in the crowd, much disguised, indeed, but not sufficiently so toescape the prying glance of his old comrade. They drew aside out of thecrowd to explain their situation to each other. The boy confessed toWayland what we have above told; and the artist, in return, informed himthat his deep anxiety for the fate of the unfortunate lady had broughthim back to the neighbourhood of the Castle, upon his learningthat morning, at a village about ten miles distant, that Varneyand Lambourne, whose violence he dreaded, had both left Kenilworthover-night.
While they spoke, they saw Leicester and Tressilian separate themselvesfrom the crowd, dogged them until they mounted their horses, when theboy, whose speed of foot has been before mentioned, though he could notpossibly keep up with them, yet arrived, as we have seen, soon enoughto save Tressilian's life. The boy had just finished his tale when theyarrived at the Gallery-tower.