The Last of the Barons — Complete
CHAPTER VIII. MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE MAKES LOVE, AND IS FRIGHTENED.
For two or three days Marmaduke and Sibyll were necessarily brought muchtogether. Such familiarity of intercourse was peculiarly rare in thattime, when, except perhaps in the dissolute court of Edward IV., thevirgins of gentle birth mixed sparingly, and with great reserve, amongstthose of opposite sex. Marmaduke, rapidly recovering from the effectof his wounds, and without other resource than Sibyll's society in thesolitude of his confinement, was not proof against the temptation whichone so young and so sweetly winning brought to his fancy or his senses.The poor Sibyll--she was no faultless paragon,--she was a rare andsingular mixture of many opposite qualities in heart and in intellect!She was one moment infantine in simplicity and gay playfulness; the nexta shade passed over her bright face, and she uttered some sentence ofthat bitter and chilling wisdom, which the sense of persecution, thecruelty of the world, had already taught her. She was, indeed, at thatage when the Child and the Woman are struggling against each other. Hercharacter was not yet formed,--a little happiness would have ripenedit at once into the richest bloom of goodness. But sorrow, that eversharpens the intellect, might only serve to sour the heart. Her mindwas so innately chaste and pure, that she knew not the nature of theadmiration she excited; but the admiration pleased her as it pleasessome young child; she was vain then, but it was an infant's vanity, nota woman's. And thus, from innocence itself, there was a fearlessness, afreedom, a something endearing and familiar in her manner, which mighthave turned a wiser head than Marmaduke Nevile's. And this the more,because, while liking her young guest, confiding in him, raised in herown esteem by his gallantry, enjoying that intercourse of youth withyouth so unfamiliar to her, and surrendering herself the more to itscharm from the joy that animated her spirits, in seeing that her fatherhad forgotten his humiliation, and returned to his wonted labours,--sheyet knew not for the handsome Nevile one sentiment that approached tolove. Her mind was so superior to his own, that she felt almost as ifolder in years, and in their talk her rosy lips preached to him in graveadvice.
On the landing, by Marmaduke's chamber, there was a large oriel casementjutting from the wall. It was only glazed at the upper part, and thatmost imperfectly, the lower part being closed at night or in inclementweather with rude shutters. The recess formed by this comfortlesscasement answered, therefore, the purpose of a balcony; it commandeda full view of the vicinity without, and gave to those who might bepassing by the power also of indulging their own curiosity by a view ofthe interior.
Whenever he lost sight of Sibyll, and had grown weary of the peacock,this spot was Marmaduke's favourite haunt. It diverted him, poor youth,to look out of the window upon the livelier world beyond. The place, itis true, was ordinarily deserted, but still the spires and turrets ofLondon were always discernible,--and they were something.
Accordingly, in this embrasure stood Marmaduke, when one morning,Sibyll, coming from her father's room, joined him.
"And what, Master Nevile," said Sibyll, with a malicious yet charmingsmile, "what claimed thy meditations? Some misgiving as to the trimmingof thy tunic, or the length of thy shoon?"
"Nay," returned Marmaduke, gravely, "such thoughts, though not withouttheir importance in the mind of a gentleman, who would not that hisignorance of court delicacies should commit him to the japes of hisequals, were not at that moment uppermost. I was thinking--"
"Of those mastiffs, quarrelling for a bone. Avow it."
"By our Lady, I saw them not, but now I look, they are brave dogs. Ha!seest thou how gallantly each fronts the other, the hair bristling, theeyes fixed, the tail on end, the fangs glistening? Now the lesser onemoves slowly round and round the bigger, who, mind you, MistressSibyll, is no dullard, but moves, too, quick as thought, not to betaken unawares. Ha! that is a brave spring! Heigh, dogs, Neigh! a goodsight!--it makes the blood warm! The little one hath him by the throat!"
"Alack," said Sibyll, turning away her eyes, "can you find pleasure inseeing two poor brutes mangle each other for a bone?"
"By Saint Dunstan! doth it matter what may be the cause of quarrel, solong as dog or man bears himself bravely, with a due sense of honour andderring-do? See! the big one is up again. Ah, foul fall the butcher, whodrives them away! Those seely mechanics know not the joyaunce of fairfighting to gentle and to hound. For a hound, mark you, hath nothingmechanical in his nature. He is a gentleman all over,--brave againstequal and stranger, forbearing to the small and defenceless, true inpoverty and need where he loveth, stern and ruthless where he hateth,and despising thieves, hildings, and the vulgar as much as e'er a goldspur in King Edward's court! Oh, certes, your best gentleman is the besthound!"
"You moralize to-day; and I know not how to gainsay you," returnedSibyll, as the dogs, reluctantly beaten off, retired each from each,snarling and reluctant, while a small black cur, that had hitherto satunobserved at the door of a small hostelrie, now coolly approached anddragged off the bone of contention. "But what sayst thou now? See! see!the patient mongrel carries off the bone from the gentleman-hounds. Isthat the way of the world?"
"Pardie! it is a naught world, if so, and much changed from the time ofour fathers, the Normans. But these Saxons are getting uppermost again,and the yard measure, I fear me, is more potent in these holiday timesthan the mace or the battle-axe." The Nevile paused, sighed, and changedthe subject: "This house of thine must have been a stately pile in itsday. I see but one side of the quadrangle is left, though it be easy totrace where the other three have stood."
"And you may see their stones and their fittings in the butcher's andbaker's stalls over the way," replied Sibyll.
"Ay!" said the Nevile, "the parings of the gentry begin to be the wealthof the varlets."
"Little ought we to pine at that," returned Sibyll, "if the varlets werebut gentle with our poverty; but they loathe the humbled fortunes onwhich they rise, and while slaves to the rich, are tyrants to the poor."
This was said so sadly, that the Nevile felt his eyes overflow; and thehumble dress of the girl, the melancholy ridges which evinced the siteof a noble house, now shrunk into a dismal ruin, the remembrance of thepastime-ground, the insults of the crowd, and the broken gittern, allconspired to move his compassion, and to give force to yet more tenderemotions.
"Ah," he said suddenly, and with a quick faint blush over his handsomeand manly countenance,--"ah, fair maid--fair Sibyll--God grant that Imay win something of gold and fortune amidst yonder towers, on which thesun shines so cheerly. God grant it, not for my sake,--not for mine; butthat I may have something besides a true heart and a stainless name tolay at thy feet. Oh, Sibyll! By this hand, by my father's soul, I lovethee, Sibyll! Have I not said it before? Well, hear me now,--I lovethee!"
As he spoke, he clasped her hand in his own, and she suffered it for oneinstant to rest in his. Then withdrawing it, and meeting his enamouredeyes with a strange sadness in her own darker, deeper, and moreintelligent orbs, she said,--
"I thank thee,--thank thee for the honour of such kind thoughts; andfrankly I answer, as thou hast frankly spoken. It was sweet to me, whohave known little in life not hard and bitter,--sweet to wish I had abrother like thee, and, as a brother, I can love and pray for thee.But ask not more, Marmaduke. I have aims in life which forbid all otherlove."
"Art thou too aspiring for one who has his spurs to win?"
"Not so; but listen. My mother's lessons and my own heart have made mypoor father the first end and object of all things on earth to me. Ilive to protect him, work for him, honour him; and for the rest, I havethoughts thou canst not know, an ambition thou canst not feel. Nay," sheadded, with that delightful smile which chased away the graver thoughtwhich had before saddened her aspect, "what would thy sober friendMaster Alwyn say to thee, if he heard thou hadst courted the wizard'sdaughter?"
"By my faith," exclaimed Marmaduke, "thou art a very April,--smilesand clouds in a breath! If what thou despisest in me be my want ofbookcraft, and such like, by my hali
dame I will turn scholar for thysake; and--"
Here, as he had again taken Sibyll's hand, with the passionate ardour ofhis bold nature, not to be lightly daunted by a maiden's first "No," asudden shrill, wild burst of laughter, accompanied with a gusty fitof unmelodious music from the street below, made both maiden and youthstart, and turn their eyes; there, weaving their immodest dance, tawdryin their tinsel attire, their naked arms glancing above their heads, asthey waved on high their instruments, went the timbrel-girls.
"Ha, ha!" cried their leader, "see the gallant and the witch-leman! Theglamour has done its work! Foul is fair! foul is fair! and the devilwill have his own!"
But these creatures, whose bold license the ancient chronicler records,were rarely seen alone. They haunted parties of pomp and pleasure;they linked together the extremes of life,--the grotesque Chorus thatintroduced the terrible truth of foul vice and abandoned wretchednessin the midst of the world's holiday and pageant. So now, as they wheeledinto the silent, squalid street, they heralded a goodly company of damesand cavaliers on horseback, who were passing through the neighbouringplains into the park of Marybone to enjoy the sport of falconry. Thesplendid dresses of this procession, and the grave and measured dignitywith which it swept along, contrasted forcibly with the wild movementsand disorderly mirth of the timbrel-players. These last darted roundand round the riders, holding out their instruments for largess, andretorting, with laugh and gibe, the disdainful look or sharp rebuke withwhich their salutations were mostly received.
Suddenly, as the company, two by two, paced up the street, Sibylluttered a faint exclamation, and strove to snatch her hand from theNevile's grasp. Her eye rested upon one of the horsemen, who rode last,and who seemed in earnest conversation with a dame, who, though scarcelyin her first youth, excelled all her fair companions in beauty of faceand grace of horsemanship, as well as in the costly equipments of thewhite barb that caracoled beneath her easy hand. At the same moment thehorseman looked up and gazed steadily at Sibyll, whose countenancegrew pale, and flushed, in a breath. His eye then glanced rapidly atMarmaduke; a half-smile passed his pale, firm lips; he slightly raisedthe plumed cap from his brow, inclined gravely to Sibyll, and, turningonce more to his companion, appeared to answer some question sheaddressed to him as to the object of his salutation, for her look,which was proud, keen, and lofty, was raised to Sibyll, and then droppedsomewhat disdainfully, as she listened to the words addressed her by thecavalier.
The lynx eyes of the tymbesteres had seen the recognition; and theirleader, laying her bold hand on the embossed bridle of the horseman,exclaimed, in a voice shrill and loud enough to be heard in the balconyabove, "Largess! noble lord, largess! for the sake of the lady thoulovest best!"
The fair equestrian turned away her head at these words; the noblemanwatched her a moment, and dropped some coins into the timbrel.
"Ha, ha!" cried the tymbestere, pointing her long arm to Sibyll, andspringing towards the balcony,--
"The cushat would mate Above her state, And she flutters her wings round the falcon's beak; But death to the dove Is the falcon's love! Oh, sharp is the kiss of the falcon's beak!"
Before this rude song was ended, Sibyll had vanished from the place;the cavalcade had disappeared. The timbrel-players, without deigning tonotice Marmaduke, darted elsewhere to ply their discordant trade, andthe Nevile, crossing himself devoutly, muttered, "Jesu defend us! Thoseshe Will-o'-the-wisps are eno' to scare all the blood out of one's body.What--a murrain on them!--do they portend, flitting round and round, andskirting off, as if the devil's broomstick was behind them! By the Mass!they have frighted away the damozel, and I am not sorry for it. Theyhave left me small heart for the part of Sir Launval."
His meditations were broken off by the sudden sight of Nicholas Alwyn,mounted on a small palfrey, and followed by a sturdy groom on horseback,leading a steed handsomely caparisoned. In another moment, Marmaduke haddescended, opened the door, and drawn Alwyn into the hall.