CHAPTER XXI.
In God's name, see the lists and all things fit; There let them end it--God defend the right!
Henry IV. Part II.
In the same council room of the conventual palace of the Dominicans,King Robert was seated with his brother Albany, whose affected austerityof virtue, and real art and dissimulation, maintained so high aninfluence over the feeble minded monarch. It was indeed natural that onewho seldom saw things according to their real forms and outlines shouldview them according to the light in which they were presented to him bya bold, astucious man, possessing the claim of such near relationship.
Ever anxious on account of his misguided and unfortunate son, the Kingwas now endeavouring to make Albany coincide in opinion with him inexculpating Rothsay from any part in the death of the bonnet maker, theprecognition concerning which had been left by Sir Patrick Charteris forhis Majesty's consideration.
"This is an unhappy matter, brother Robin," he said--"a most unhappyoccurrence, and goes nigh to put strife and quarrel betwixt the nobilityand the commons here, as they have been at war together in so manydistant lands. I see but one cause of comfort in the matter, and thatis, that Sir John Ramorny having received his dismissal from the Duke ofRothsay's family, it cannot be said that he or any of his people who mayhave done this bloody deed--if it has truly been done by them--have beenencouraged or hounded out upon such an errand by my poor boy. I am sure,brother, you and I can bear witness how readily, upon my entreaties, heagreed to dismiss Ramorny from his service, on account of that brawl inCurfew Street."
"I remember his doing so," said Albany; "and well do I hope that theconnexion betwixt the Prince and Ramorny has not been renewed since heseemed to comply with your Grace's wishes."
"Seemed to comply! The connexion renewed!" said the King. "What mean youby these expressions, brother? Surely, when David promised to me that,if that unhappy matter of Curfew Street were but smothered up andconcealed, he would part with Ramorny, as he was a counsellor thoughtcapable of involving him in similar fooleries, and would acquiescein our inflicting on him either exile or such punishment as it shouldplease us to impose--surely you cannot doubt that he was sincere in hisprofessions, and would keep his word? Remember you not that, when youadvised that a heavy fine should be levied upon his estate in Fife inlieu of banishment, the Prince himself seemed to say that exile would bebetter for Ramorny, and even for himself?"
"I remember it well, my royal brother. Nor, truly, could I havesuspected Ramorny of having so much influence over the Prince, afterhaving been accessory to placing him in a situation so perilous, hadit not been for my royal kinsman's own confession, alluded to by yourGrace, that, if suffered to remain at court, he might still continue toinfluence his conduct. I then regretted I had advised a fine in placeof exile. But that time is passed, and now new mischief has occurred,fraught with much peril to your Majesty, as well as to your royal heir,and to the whole kingdom."
"What mean you, Robin?" said the weak minded King. "By the tomb of ourparents! by the soul of Bruce, our immortal ancestor! I entreat thee, mydearest brother, to take compassion on me. Tell me what evil threatensmy son, or my kingdom?"
The features of the King, trembling with anxiety, and his eyes brimfulof tears, were bent upon his brother, who seemed to assume time forconsideration ere he replied.
"My lord, the danger lies here. Your Grace believed that the Prince hadno accession to this second aggression upon the citizens of Perth--theslaughter of this bonnet making fellow, about whose death they clamour,as a set of gulls about their comrade, when one of the noisy brood isstruck down by a boor's shaft."
"Their lives," said the King, "are dear to themselves and their friends,Robin."
"Truly, ay, my liege; and they make them dear to us too, ere we cansettle with the knaves for the least blood wit. But, as I said, yourMajesty thinks the Prince had no share in this last slaughter; I willnot attempt to shake your belief in that delicate point, but willendeavour to believe along with you. What you think is rule for me,Robert of Albany will never think otherwise than Robert of broadScotland."
"Thank you, thank you," said the King, taking his brother's hand. "Iknew I might rely that your affection would do justice to poor heedlessRothsay, who exposes himself to so much misconstruction that he scarcelydeserves the sentiments you feel for him."
Albany had such an immovable constancy of purpose, that he was able toreturn the fraternal pressure of the King's hand, while tearing up bythe very roots the hopes of the indulgent, fond old man.
"But, alas!" the Duke continued, with a sigh, "this burly, intractableKnight of Kinfauns, and his brawling herd of burghers, will not view thematter as we do. They have the boldness to say that this dead fellow hadbeen misused by Rothsay and his fellows, who were in the street in maskand revel, stopping men and women, compelling them to dance, or to drinkhuge quantities of wine, with other follies needless to recount; andthey say that the whole party repaired in Sir John Ramorny's, and broketheir way into the house in order to conclude their revel there, thusaffording good reason to judge that the dismissal of Sir John from thePrince's service was but a feigned stratagem to deceive the public. Andhence they urge that, if ill were done that night by Sir John Ramornyor his followers, much it is to be thought that the Duke of Rothsay musthave at least been privy to, if he did not authorise, it."
"Albany, this is dreadful!" said the King. "Would they make a murdererof my boy? would they pretend my David would soil his hands in Scottishblood without having either provocation or purpose? No--no, they willnot invent calumnies so broad as these, for they are flagrant andincredible."
"Pardon, my liege," answered the Duke of Albany; "they say the causeof quarrel which occasioned the riot in Curfew Street, and, itsconsequences, were more proper to the Prince than to Sir John, sincenone suspects, far less believes, that that hopeful enterprise wasconducted for the gratification of the knight of Ramorny."
"Thou drivest me mad, Robin!" said the King.
"I am dumb," answered his brother; "I did but speak my poor mindaccording to your royal order."
"Thou meanest well, I know," said the King; "but, instead of tearing meto pieces with the display of inevitable calamities, were it not kinder,Robin, to point me out some mode to escape from them?"
"True, my liege; but as the only road of extrication is rough anddifficult, it is necessary your Grace should be first possessed withthe absolute necessity of using it, ere you hear it even described. Thechirurgeon must first convince his patient of the incurable condition ofa shattered member, ere he venture to name amputation, though it be theonly remedy."
The King at these words was roused to a degree of alarm and indignationgreater than his brother had deemed he could be awakened to.
"Shattered and mortified member, my Lord of Albany! amputation the onlyremedy! These are unintelligible words, my lord. If thou appliest themto our son Rothsay, thou must make them good to the letter, else maystthou have bitter cause to rue the consequence."
"You construe me too literally, my royal liege," said Albany. "I spokenot of the Prince in such unbeseeming terms, for I call Heaven towitness that he is dearer to me as the son of a well beloved brotherthan had he been son of my own. But I spoke in regard to separating himfrom the follies and vanities of life, which holy men say are like tomortified members, and ought, like them, to be cut off and thrown fromus, as things which interrupt our progress in better things."
"I understand--thou wouldst have this Ramorny, who hath been thought theinstrument of my son's follies, exiled from court," said the relievedmonarch, "until these unhappy scandals are forgotten, and our subjectsare disposed to look upon our son with different and more confidingeyes."
"That were good counsel, my liege; but mine went a little--a verylittle--farther. I would have the Prince himself removed for some briefperiod from court."
"How, Albany! part with my child, my firstborn, the light of my eyes,and--wilful as he is--the darling of my heart!
Oh, Robin! I cannot, andI will not."
"Nay, I did but suggest, my lord; I am sensible of the wound such aproceeding must inflict on a parent's heart, for am I not myself afather?" And he hung his head, as if in hopeless despondency.
"I could not survive it, Albany. When I think that even our owninfluence over him, which, sometimes forgotten in our absence, is evereffectual whilst he is with us, is by your plan to be entirely removed,what perils might he not rush upon? I could not sleep in his absence--Ishould hear his death groan in every breeze; and you, Albany, though youconceal it better, would be nearly as anxious."
Thus spoke the facile monarch, willing to conciliate his brother andcheat himself, by taking it for granted that an affection, of whichthere were no traces, subsisted betwixt the uncle and nephew.
"Your paternal apprehensions are too easily alarmed, my lord," saidAlbany. "I do not propose to leave the disposal of the Prince's motionsto his own wild pleasure. I understand that the Prince is to be placedfor a short time under some becoming restraint--that he shouldbe subjected to the charge of some grave counsellor, who must beresponsible both for his conduct and his safety, as a tutor for hispupil."
"How! a tutor, and at Rothsay's age!" exclaimed the' King; "he is twoyears beyond the space to which our laws limit the term of nonage."
"The wiser Romans," said Albany, "extended it for four years after theperiod we assign; and, in common sense, the right of control ought tolast till it be no longer necessary, and so the time ought to vary withthe disposition. Here is young Lindsay, the Earl of Crawford, who theysay gives patronage to Ramorny on this appeal. He is a lad of fifteen,with the deep passions and fixed purpose of a man of thirty; while myroyal nephew, with much more amiable and noble qualities both of headand heart, sometimes shows, at twenty-three years of age, the wantonhumours of a boy, towards whom restraint may be kindness. And do notbe discouraged that it is so, my liege, or angry with your brother fortelling the truth; since the best fruits are those that are slowest inripening, and the best horses such as give most trouble to the groomswho train them for the field or lists."
The Duke stopped, and, after suffering King Robert to indulge for twoor three minutes in a reverie which he did not attempt to interrupt, headded, in a more lively tone: "But, cheer up, my noble liege; perhapsthe feud may be made up without farther fighting or difficulty. Thewidow is poor, for her husband, though he was much employed, had idleand costly habits. The matter may be therefore redeemed for money, andthe amount of an assythment may be recovered out of Ramorny's estate."
"Nay, that we will ourselves discharge," said King Robert, eagerlycatching at the hope of a pacific termination of this unpleasing debate."Ramorny's prospects will be destroyed by his being sent from courtand deprived of his charge in Rothsay's household, and it would beungenerous to load a falling man. But here comes our secretary, theprior, to tell us the hour of council approaches. Good morrow, my worthyfather."
"Benedicite, my royal liege," answered the abbot.
"Now, good father," continued the King, "without waiting for Rothsay,whose accession to our counsels we will ourselves guarantee, proceed weto the business of our kingdom. What advices have you from the Douglas?"
"He has arrived at his castle of Tantallon, my liege, and has sent apost to say, that, though the Earl of March remains in sullen seclusionin his fortress of Dunbar, his friends and followers are gathering andforming an encampment near Coldingham, Where it is supposed they intendto await the arrival of a large force of English, which Hotspur and SirRalph Percy are assembling on the English frontier."
"That is cold news," said the King; "and may God forgive George ofDunbar!"
The Prince entered as he spoke, and he continued: "Ha! thou art here atlength, Rothsay; I saw thee not at mass."
"I was an idler this morning," said the Prince, "having spent a restlessand feverish night."
"Ah, foolish boy!" answered the King; "hadst thou not been over restlesson Fastern's Eve, thou hadst not been feverish on the night of AshWednesday."
"Let me not interrupt your praying, my liege," said the Prince,lightly. "Your Grace Was invoking Heaven in behalf of some one--an enemydoubtless, for these have the frequent advantage of your orisons."
"Sit down and be at peace, foolish youth!" said his father, his eyeresting at the same time on the handsome face and graceful figure ofhis favourite son. Rothsay drew a cushion near to his father's feet, andthrew himself carelessly down upon it, while the King resumed.
"I was regretting that the Earl of March, having separated warm frommy hand with full assurance that he should receive compensation foreverything which he could complain of as injurious, should have beencapable of caballing with Northumberland against his own country. Is itpossible he could doubt our intentions to make good our word?"
"I will answer for him--no," said the Prince. "March never doubted yourHighness's word. Marry, he may well have made question whether yourlearned counsellors would leave your Majesty the power of keeping it."
Robert the Third had adopted to a great extent the timid policy of notseeming to hear expressions which, being heard, required, even in hisown eyes, some display of displeasure. He passed on, therefore, in hisdiscourse, without observing his son's speech, but in private Rothsay'srashness augmented the displeasure which his father began to entertainagainst him.
"It is well the Douglas is on the marches," said the King. "Hisbreast, like those of his ancestors, has ever been the best bulwark ofScotland."
"Then woe betide us if he should turn his back to the enemy," said theincorrigible Rothsay.
"Dare you impeach the courage of Douglas?" replied the King, extremelychafed.
"No man dare question the Earl's courage," said Rothsay, "it is ascertain as his pride; but his luck may be something doubted."
"By St. Andrew, David," exclaimed his father, "thou art like a screechowl, every word thou sayest betokens strife and calamity."
"I am silent, father," answered the youth.
"And what news of our Highland disturbances?" continued the King,addressing the prior.
"I trust they have assumed a favourable aspect," answered the clergyman."The fire which threatened the whole country is likely to be drenchedout by the blood of some forty or fifty kerne; for the two greatconfederacies have agreed, by solemn indenture of arms, to decided theirquarrel with such weapons as your Highness may name, and in your royalpresence, in such place as shall be appointed, on the 30th of March nextto come, being Palm Sunday; the number of combatants being limited tothirty on each side; and the fight to be maintained to extremity, sincethey affectionately make humble suit and petition to your Majesty thatyou will parentally condescend to waive for the day your royal privilegeof interrupting the combat, by flinging down of truncheon or crying of'Ho!' until the battle shall be utterly fought to an end."
"The wild savages!" exclaimed the King, "would they limit our best anddearest royal privilege, that of putting a stop to strife, and cryingtruce to battle? Will they remove the only motive which could bring meto the butcherly spectacle of their combat? Would they fight like men,or like their own mountain wolves?"
"My lord," said Albany, "the Earl of Crawford and I had presumed,without consulting you, to ratify that preliminary, for the adoption ofwhich we saw much and pressing reason."
"How! the Earl of Crawford!" said the King. "Methinks he is a youngcounsellor on such grave occurrents."
"He is," replied Albany, "notwithstanding his early years, of suchesteem among his Highland neighbours, that I could have done little withthem but for his aid and influence."
"Hear this, young Rothsay!" said the King reproachfully to his heir.
"I pity Crawford, sire," replied the Prince. "He has too early lost afather whose counsels would have better become such a season as this."
The King turned next towards Albany with a look of triumph, at thefilial affection which his son displayed in his reply.
Albany proceeded without emotion. "It is not the life of
theseHighlandmen, but their death, which is to be profitable to thiscommonwealth of Scotland; and truly it seemed to the Earl of Crawfordand myself most desirable that the combat should be a strife ofextermination."
"Marry," said the Prince, "if such be the juvenile policy of Lindsay, hewill be a merciful ruler some ten or twelve years hence! Out upon a boythat is hard of heart before he has hair upon his lip! Better he hadcontented himself with fighting cocks on Fastern's Even than layingschemes for massacring men on Palm Sunday, as if he were backing a Welshmain, where all must fight to death."
"Rothsay is right, Albany," said the King: "it were unlike a Christianmonarch to give way in this point. I cannot consent to see men battleuntil they are all hewn down like cattle in the shambles. It wouldsicken me to look at it, and the warder would drop from my hand for merelack of strength to hold it."
"It would drop unheeded," said Albany. "Let me entreat your Grace torecollect, that you only give up a royal privilege which, exercised,would win you no respect, since it would receive no obedience. Were yourMajesty to throw down your warder when the war is high, and these men'sblood is hot, it would meet no more regard than if a sparrow should dropamong a herd of battling wolves the straw which he was carrying to hisnest. Nothing will separate them but the exhaustion of slaughter; andbetter they sustain it at the hands of each other than from the swordsof such troops as might attempt to separate them at your Majesty'scommands. An attempt to keep the peace by violence would be construedinto an ambush laid for them; both parties would unite to resist it, theslaughter would be the same, and the hoped for results of future peacewould be utterly disappointed."
"There is even too much truth in what you say, brother Robin," repliedthe flexible King. "To little purpose is it to command what I cannotenforce; and, although I have the unhappiness to do so each day ofmy life, it were needless to give such a very public example of royalimpotency before the crowds who may assemble to behold this spectacle.Let these savage men, therefore, work their bloody will to the uttermostupon each other: I will not attempt to forbid what I cannot prevent themfrom executing. Heaven help this wretched country! I will to my oratoryand pray for her, since to aid her by hand and head is alike denied tome. Father prior, I pray the support of your arm."
"Nay, but, brother," said Albany, "forgive me if I remind you that wemust hear the matter between the citizens of Perth and Ramorny, aboutthe death of a townsman--"
"True--true," said the monarch, reseating himself; "more violence--morebattle. Oh, Scotland! Scotland! if the best blood of thy bravestchildren could enrich thy barren soil, what land on earth would excelthee in fertility! When is it that a white hair is seen on the beard ofa Scottishman, unless he be some wretch like thy sovereign, protectedfrom murder by impotence, to witness the scenes of slaughter to which hecannot put a period? Let them come in, delay them not. They are in hasteto kill, and, grudge each other each fresh breath of their Creator'sblessed air. The demon of strife and slaughter hath possessed the wholeland!"
As the mild prince threw himself back on his seat with an air ofimpatience and anger not very usual with him, the door at the lower endof the room was unclosed, and, advancing from the gallery into whichit led (where in perspective was seen a guard of the Bute men, orBrandanes, under arms), came, in mournful procession, the widow of poorOliver, led by Sir Patrick Charteris, with as much respect as if she hadbeen a lady of the first rank. Behind them came two women of good, thewives of magistrates of the city, both in mourning garments, one bearingthe infant and the other leading the elder child. The smith followed inhis best attire, and wearing over his buff coat a scarf of crape. BailieCraigdallie and a brother magistrate closed the melancholy procession,exhibiting similar marks of mourning.
The good King's transitory passion was gone the instant he looked atthe pallid countenance of the sorrowing widow, and beheld theunconsciousness of the innocent orphans who had sustained so great aloss, and when Sir Patrick Charteris had assisted Magdalen Proudfute tokneel down and, still holding her hand, kneeled himself on one knee,it was with a sympathetic tone that King Robert asked her name andbusiness. She made no answer, but muttered something, looking towardsher conductor.
"Speak for the poor woman, Sir Patrick Charteris," said the King, "andtell us the cause of her seeking our presence."
"So please you, my liege," answered Sir Patrick, rising up, "this woman,and these unhappy orphans, make plaint to your Highness upon Sir JohnRamorny of Ramorny, Knight, that by him, or by some of his household,her umquhile husband, Oliver Proudfute, freeman and burgess of Perth,was slain upon the streets of the city on the eve of Shrove Tuesday ormorning of Ash Wednesday."
"Woman," replied the King, with much kindness, "thou art gentle by sex,and shouldst be pitiful even by thy affliction; for our own calamityought to make us--nay, I think it doth make us--merciful to others. Thyhusband hath only trodden the path appointed to us all."
"In his case," said the widow, "my liege must remember it has been abrief and a bloody one."
"I agree he hath had foul measure. But since I have been unable toprotect him, as I confess was my royal duty, I am willing, in atonement,to support thee and these orphans, as well or better than you lived inthe days of your husband; only do thou pass from this charge, and benot the occasion of spilling more life. Remember, I put before you thechoice betwixt practising mercy and pursuing vengeance, and that betwixtplenty and penury."
"It is true, my liege, we are poor," answered the widow, with unshakenfirmness "but I and my children will feed with the beasts of the fieldere we live on the price of my husband's blood. I demand the combat bymy champion, as you are belted knight and crowned king."
"I knew it would be so!" said the King, aside to Albany. "In Scotlandthe first words stammered by an infant and the last uttered by a dyinggreybeard are 'combat--blood--revenge.' It skills not arguing farther.Admit the defendants."
Sir John Ramorny entered the apartment. He was dressed in a long furredrobe, such as men of quality wore when they were unarmed. Concealed bythe folds of drapery, his wounded arm was supported by a scarf orsling of crimson silk, and with the left arm he leaned on a youth,who, scarcely beyond the years of boyhood, bore on his brow the deepimpression of early thought and premature passion. This was thatcelebrated Lindsay, Earl of Crawford, who, in his after days, was knownby the epithet of the Tiger Earl, and who ruled the great and richvalley of Strathmore with the absolute power and unrelenting cruelty ofa feudal tyrant. Two or three gentlemen, friends of the Earl, or of hisown, countenanced Sir John Ramorny by their presence on this occasion.The charge was again stated, and met by a broad denial on the partof the accused; and in reply, the challengers offered to prove theirassertion by an appeal to the ordeal of bier right.
"I am not bound," answered Sir John Ramorny, "to submit to this ordeal,since I can prove, by the evidence of my late royal master, that I wasin my own lodgings, lying on my bed, ill at ease, while this provost andthese bailies pretend I was committing a crime to which I had neitherwill nor temptation. I can therefore be no just object of suspicion."
"I can aver," said the Prince, "that I saw and conversed with Sir JohnRamorny about some matters concerning my own household on the very nightwhen this murder was a-doing. I therefore know that he was ill at ease,and could not in person commit the deed in question. But I know nothingof the employment of his attendants, and will not take it upon me to saythat some one of them may not have been guilty of the crime now chargedon them."
Sir John Ramorny had, during the beginning of this speech, lookedround with an air of defiance, which was somewhat disconcerted by theconcluding sentence of Rothsay's speech.
"I thank your Highness," he said, with a smile, "for your cautious andlimited testimony in my behalf. He was wise who wrote, 'Put not yourfaith in princes.'"
"If you have no other evidence of your innocence, Sir John Ramorny,"said the King, "we may not, in respect to your followers, refuse tothe injured widow and orphans, the complainers, the grant of a pr
oof byordeal of bier right, unless any of them should prefer that of combat.For yourself, you are, by the Prince's evidence, freed from theattaint."
"My liege," answered Sir John, "I can take warrant upon myself for theinnocence of my household and followers."
"Why, so a monk or a woman might speak," said Sir Patrick Charteris. "Inknightly language, wilt thou, Sir John de Ramorny, do battle with me inthe behalf of thy followers?"
"The provost of Perth had not obtained time to name the word combat,"said Ramorny, "ere I would have accepted it. But I am not at present fitto hold a lance."
"I am glad of it, under your favour, Sir John. There will be the lessbloodshed," said the King. "You must therefore produce your followersaccording to your steward's household book, in the great church ofSt. John, that, in presence of all whom it may concern, they may purgethemselves of this accusation. See that every man of them do appear atthe time of high mass, otherwise your honour may be sorely tainted."
"They shall attend to a man," said Sir John Ramorny.
Then bowing low to the King, he directed himself to the young Duke ofRothsay, and, making a deep obeisance, spoke so as to be heard by himalone. "You have used me generously, my lord! One word of your lipscould have ended this controversy, and you have refused to speak it."
"On my life," whispered the Prince, "I spake as far as the extreme vergeof truth and conscience would permit. I think thou couldst not expectI should frame lies for thee; and after all, John, in my brokenrecollections of that night, I do bethink me of a butcherly lookingmute, with a curtal axe, much like such a one as may have done yondernight job. Ha! have I touched you, sir knight?"
Ramorny made no answer, but turned as precipitately as if some one hadpressed suddenly on his wounded arm, and regained his lodgings withthe Earl of Crawford; to whom, though disposed for anything rather thanrevelry, he was obliged to offer a splendid collation, to acknowledgein some degree his sense of the countenance which the young noble hadafforded him.