CHAPTER SEVEN.
ON THE TERRACE.
"Where we disavow Being keeper to our brother, we're his Cain."
Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
"Hylton, thou art weary gear!"
"What ails me?"
"What ails thee, forsooth? Marry, but that's as good a jest as I heardthis year! I lack thee to tell me that. For what ails me at thee, thatwere other matter, and I can give thee to wit, an' thou wilt. Thou artas heavy as lead, and as dull as ditch-water, and as flat as dowled[flat] ale. I would I were but mine own master, and I'd mount my horse,and ride away from the whole sort of you!"
"From your father and mother, Matthew?"
"Certes. Where's the good of fathers and mothers, save to crimp andcramp young folks that would fain stretch their wings and be off intothe sunlight? Mine never do nought else."
"Think you not the fathers and mothers might reasonably ask, Where's thegood of sons and daughters? How much have you cost yours, Matthew,since you were born?"
Matthew Foljambe turned round with a light laugh, and gazed halfcontemptuously at the speaker.
"Gentlemen never reckon," said he. "'Tis a mean business, only fit fortradesfolk."
"You might reckon that sum, Matthew, without damage to your gentleblood. The King himself reckoneth up the troops he shall lack, and theconvention-subsidy due from each man to furnish them. You shall scantlygo above him, I count."
"I would I were but a king! Wouldn't I lead a brave life!"
"That would not I be for all the riches in Christendom."
"The which speech showeth thine unwisdom. Why, a king can have hispurveyor to pick of the finest in the market ere any other be serven; hecan lay tax on his people whenas it shall please him [this was true atthat time]; he can have a whole pig or goose to his table every morrow;and as for the gifts that be brought him, they be without number.Marry, but if I were a king, wouldn't I have a long gown of blue velvet,all o'er broidered of seed-pearl, and a cap of cramoisie [crimsonvelvet], with golden broidery! And a summer jack [the garment of whichjacket is the diminutive] of samitelle would I have--let me see--green,I reckon, bound with gold ribbon; and fair winter hoods of miniver andermine, and buttons of gold by the score. Who so bravely apparelled asI, trow?"
"Be your garments not warm enough, Matthew?"
"Warm enough? certes! But they be only camoca and lamb's far, withnever a silver button, let be gold."
"What advantage should gold buttons be to you? Those pearl do attachyour gown full evenly as well."
"Hylton, thou hast no ambitiousness in thee! Seest not that folksshould pay me a deal more respect, thus donned [dressed] in my bravery?"
"That is, they should pay much respect to the blue velvet and the goldbuttons? You should be no different that I can see."
"I should be a vast sight comelier, man alive!"
"You!" returned Hylton.
"Where's the good of talking to thee? As well essay to learn a sparrowto sing, `_J'ay tout perdu mon temps_.'"
"I think you should have lost your time in very deed, and your labourbelike, if you spent them on broidering gowns and stitching on buttons,when you had enow aforetime."
"Thou sely loon! [Simple creature!] Dost reckon I mean to work mineown broidery, trow? I'd have a fair score of maidens alway a-broideringfor me, so that I might ever have a fresh device when I lacked a newgown."
"The which should come in a year to--how much?"
"Dost look for me to know?"
"I do, when I have told you. Above an hundred and twenty pound, MasterMatthew. That should your bravery cost you, in broidering-maids alone."
"Well! what matter, so I had it?"
"It might serve you. I should desire to buy more happiness with such asum than could be stitched into golden broidery and seed-pearl."
"Now come, Norman, let us hear thy notion of happiness. If thou hadstin thine hand an hundred pound, what should'st do withal?"
"I would see if I could not dry up as many widows' tears as I had goldenpieces, and bring as many smiles to the lips of orphans as they shoulddivide into silver."
"Prithee, what good should that do thee?"
"It should keep mine heart warm in the chillest winter thereafter. ButI thought rather of the good it should do them than me."
"But what be such like folks to thee?"
"Our Lord died for them, and He is something to me."
"Fate meant thee for a monk, Hylton. Thou rannest thine head againstthe wall to become a squire."
"Be monks the sole men that love God?"
"They be the sole men that hold such talk."
"I have known monks that held full different talk, I do ensure you. AndI have known laymen that loved God as well as any monk that ever pacedcloister."
"Gramercy! do leave preaching of sermons. I have enow of them from myLady my mother. Let's be jolly, if we can."
"You should have the better right to be jolly, to know whither you weregoing, and that you should surely come out safe at the far end."
"Happy man be my dole! I'm no wise feared. I'll give an hundred poundto the Church the week afore I die, and that shall buy me asoft-cushioned seat in Heaven, I'll warrant."
"Who told you so much? Any that had been there?"
"Man alive! wilt hold thy peace, and let man be? Thou art turned nowinto a predicant friar. I'll leave thee here to preach to thegilly-flowers."
And Matthew walked off, with a sprig of mint in his mouth. He was not abad man, as men go. He was simply a man who wanted to please himself,and to be comfortable and easy. In his eyes the whole fabric of theuniverse revolved round Matthew Foljambe. He did not show it as theroyal savage did, who beat a primitive gong in token that, as he had satdown to dinner, the rest of the world might lawfully satisfy theirhunger; but the sentiment in Matthew's mind was a civilised and refinedform of the same idea. If he were comfortable, what did it signify ifeverybody else were uncomfortable?
Like all men in his day--and a good many in our own--Matthew had a lowopinion of woman. It had been instilled into him, as it was at thattime into every man who wrote himself "esquire," that the utmostchivalrous reverence was due to the ladies as an abstract idea; but thisabstract idea was quite compatible with the rudest behaviour and thesupremest contempt for any given woman in the concrete. Woman was anarticle of which there were two qualities: the first-class thing was atoy, the second was a machine. Both were for the use of man--which wastrue enough, had they only realised that it meant for man's real helpand improvement, bodily, mental, and spiritual; but they understood itto mean for the bodily comfort and mental amusement of the nobler halfof the human race. The natural result of this was that every woman mustbe appropriated to some master. The bare notion of allowing a woman tochoose whether she would go through life unattached to a master, or, ifotherwise, to reject one she feared or disliked, would have seemed toMatthew the most preposterous audacity on the part of the inferiorcreature, as it would also have appeared if the inferior creature hadshown discontent with the lot marked out for it. The inferior creature,on the whole, walked very meekly in the path thus swept for it. Thiswas partly, no doubt, because it was so taught as a religious duty; butpartly, also, because the style of education then given to women left noroom for the mental wings to expand. The bird was supplied with goodseed and fresh water, and the idea of its wanting anything else wasregarded as absurd. Let it sit on the perch and sing in a properlysubdued tone. That it was graciously allowed to sing was enough for anyreasonable bird, and ought to call forth on its part overflowinggratitude.
Even then, a few of the caged birds were not content to sit meekly onthe perch, but they were eyed askance by the properly behaved ones, andheld up to the unfledged nestlings as sorrowful examples of thepernicious habit of thinking for one's self. Never was bird lesssatisfied to be shut up in a cage than the hapless prisoner in thatmanor house, whom the peasants of the neighbourhood knew as the WhiteLady. Now and th
en they caught a glimpse of her at the window of herchamber, which she insisted on having open, and at which she would standsometimes by the hour together, looking sorrowfully out on the blue skyand the green fields, wherein she might wander no more. A wild bird wasMarguerite of Flanders, in whose veins ran the blood of those untamedsea-eagles, the Vikings of Denmark; and though bars and wires might keepher in the cage, to make her content with it was beyond their power.
So thought Norman Hylton, looking up at the white figure visible behindthe bars which crossed the casement of the captive's chamber. He knewlittle of her beyond her name.
"Saying thy prayers to the moon, Hylton? or to the White Lady?" asked avoice behind him.
"Neither, Godfrey. I was marvelling wherefore she is mewed up there.Dost know?"
"I know she was a full wearisome woman to my Lord Duke her son, and thathe is a jollier man by the acre since she here dwelt."
"Was she his own mother?" asked Norman.
"His own?--ay, for sure; and did him a good turn at the beginning, bypreserving his kingdom for him when he was but a lad."
"And could he find no better reward for her than this?"
"Tut! she sharped [teased, irritated] him, man. He could not have hiswill for her."
"Could he ne'er have put up with a little less of it? Or was his willso much dearer to him than his mother?"
"Dost reckon he longed sore to be ridden of an old woman, and made totrot to market at her pleasure, when his own was to take every gate andhurdle in his way? Thou art old woman thyself, an' thou so dost. MyLord Duke is no jog-trot market-ass, I can tell thee, but as fiery awar-charger as man may see in a summer's day. And dost think awar-charger should be well a-paid to have an old woman of his back?"
"My Lady his mother, then, hath no fire in her?" said Norman, glancingup at her where she stood behind the bars in her white weeds, lookingdown on the two young men in the garden.
"Marry, enough to burn a city down. She did burn the King of France'scamp afore Hennebon. And whenas she was prisoner in Tickhill Castle, acertain knight, whose name I know not, [the name of this knight isapparently not on record], covenanted secretly with her by means of somebribe, or such like, given to her keepers, that he would deliver herfrom durance; and one night scaled he the walls, and she herself gatdown from her window, and clambered like a cat by means of thewater-spout and slight footholds in the stonework, till she came to thebottom, and then over the walls and away. They were taken, as thoumayest lightly guess, yet they gat them nigh clear of the liberties erethey could again be captivated. Fire! ay, that hath she, and ever will.Forsooth, that is the cause wherefore she harried her son. If shewould have sat still at her spinning, he'd have left her be. But, lookthou, she could not leave him be."
"Wherein did she seek to let him, wot you?"
"Good lack! not I. If thou art so troubled thereanent, thou wert bestask my father. Maybe he wist not. I cannot say."
"It must have been sore disheartenment," said Norman, pityingly, "to winnearly away, and then be brought back."
"Ay, marry; and then was she had up to London afore the King's Grace,and had into straiter prison than aforetime. Ere that matter was shetreated rather as guest of the King and Queen, though in good sooth shewas prisoner; but after was she left no doubt touching that question.Some thought she might have been released eight years agone, when theconvention was with the Lady Joan of Brittany, which after her lord waskilled at Auray, gave up all, receiving the county of Penthievre, thecity of Limoges, and a great sum of money; and so far as Englandreckoned, so she might, and maybe would, had it been to my Lord Duke'sconvenience. But he had found her aforetime very troublesome to him.Why, when he was but a youth, he fell o' love with some fair damsel ofhis mother's following, and should have wedded her, had not my LadyDuchess, so soon as ever she knew it, packed her off to a nunnery."
"Wherefore?"
"That wis I not, without it were that she was not for him."[Unsuitable.]
"Was the tale true, think you?"
"That wis I not likewise. Man said so much--behold all I know. Anyway, she harried him, and he loved it not, and here she is. That'senough for me."
"Poor lady!"
"Poor? what for poor? She has all she can want. She is fed and clad aswell as ever she was--better, I dare guess, than when she was besiegedin Hennebon. If she would have broidery silks, or flowers, or any sortof women's toys, she hath but to say, and my Lady my mother shall rideto Derby for them. The King gave order she should be well used, andwell used she is. He desireth not that she be punished, but only keptsure."
"I would guess that mere keeping in durance, with nought more to vexher, were sorest suffering to one of her fashioning."
"But what more can she lack? Beside, she is only a woman."
"Women mostly live in and for their children, and your story sounds asthough hers cared little enough for her."
"Well! they know she is well treated; why should they harry them overher? They be young, and would lead a jolly life, not to be tied forever to her apron-string."
"I would not use my mother thus."
"What wouldst? Lead her horse with thy bonnet doffed, and make a legafore her whenever she spake unto thee?"
"If it made her happy so to do, I would. Meseemeth I should be as wellemployed in leading her horse as another, and could show my chivalry aswell towards mine old mother as any other lady. I were somewhat morebeholden to her of the twain, and God bade me not honour any other, butHe did her."
"_Ha, chetife_! 'Tis easier work honouring a fair damsel, with goldenhair and rose-leaf cheek, than a toothless old harridan that is for everplaguing thee."
"Belike the Lord knew that, and writ therefore His fifth command."
Godfrey did not answer, for his attention was diverted. Two well-ladenmules stood at the gate, and two men were coming up to the Manor House,carrying a large pack--a somewhat exciting vision to country people inthe Middle Ages. There were then no such things as village shops, andonly in the largest and most important towns was any great stock kept bytradesmen. The chief trading in country places was done by theseitinerant pedlars, whose visits were therefore a source of greatinterest to the family, and especially to the ladies. They servedfrequently as messengers and carriers in a small way, and wereparticularly valuable between the four seasons, when alone anythingworth notice could be expected in the shops--Easter, Whitsuntide, AllSaints, and Christmas. There were also the spring and autumn fairs, butthese were small matters except in the great towns. As it was now thebeginning of September, Godfrey knew that a travelling pedlar would be amost acceptable visitor to his mother and wife.
The porter, instructed by his young master, let in the pedlars.
"What have ye?" demanded Godfrey.
"I have mercery, sweet Sir, and he hath jewelling," answered the tallerof the pedlars, a middle-aged man with a bronzed face, which told ofmuch outdoor exposure.
"Why, well said! Come ye both into hall, and when ye have eaten anddrunk, then shall ye open your packs."
Godfrey led the pedlars into the hall, and shouted for the sewer, whomhe bade to set a table, and serve the wearied men with food.
An hour later, Amphillis, who was sewing in her mistress's chamber, roseat the entrance of Lady Foljambe.
"Here, Dame, be pedlars bearing mercery and jewelling," said she."Would your Grace anything that I can pick forth to your content?"
"Ay, I lack a few matters, Avena," said the Countess, in her usualbitter-sweet style. "A two-three yards of freedom, an' it like thee;and a boxful of air, so he have it fresh; and if thou see a silver chainof daughter's duty, or a bit of son's love set in gold, I could serve meof those if I had them. They'll not come over sea, methinketh."
"Would it like your Grace," asked Lady Foljambe, rather stiffly, "tospeak in plain language, and say what you would have?"
"`Plain language!'" repeated the Countess. "In very deed, but Ireckoned I had given thee some of that afo
re now! I would have myliberty, Avena Foljambe; and I would have my rights; and I would have ofmine own childre such honour as 'longeth to a mother by reason and God'slaw. Is that plain enough? or wouldst have it rougher hewn?"
"Dame, your Grace wist well that such matter as this cometh not ofpedlars' packs."
"Ay!" said the Countess, with a long, weary sigh. "I do, so! Nor outof men's hearts, belike. Well, Avena, to come down to such petty matteras I count I shall be suffered to have, prithee, bring me some violetsilk of this shade for broidery, and another yard or twain of redsamitelle for the backing. It were not in thy writ of mattersallowable, I reckon, that the pedlars should come up and open theirpacks in my sight?"
Lady Foljambe looked scandalised.
"Dear heart! Dame, what means your Grace?"
"I know," said the Countess. "They have eyes, no less than I; and theyshall see an old woman in white doole, and fall to marvelling, and maybetalking, wherefore their Lord King Edward keepeth her mewed up with barsacross her casement. His Grace's honour must be respected, trow. Be itdone. 'Tis only one penny the more to the account that the Lord of thehelpless shall demand of him one day. I trust he hath in his cofferswherewith to pay that debt. Verily, there shall be some strangemeetings in that further world. I marvel something what manner of talemine old friend De Mauny carried thither this last January, when he wenton the long journey that hath no return. Howbeit, seeing he wedded hismaster's cousin, maybe it were not to his conveniency to remind the Lordof the old woman behind the bars at Hazelwood. It should scantlyredound to his lord's credit. And at times it seemeth me that the Lordlacketh reminding, for He appears to have forgot me."
"I cannot listen, Dame, to such speech of my Sovereign."
"Do thy duty, Avena. After all, thy Sovereign's not bad man, as men go.Marvellous ill they go, some of them! He hath held his sceptre welleven betwixt justice and mercy on the whole, saving in two matters,whereof this old woman is one, and old women be of small account withmost men. He should have fared well had he wist his own mind a bitbetter--but that's in the blood. Old King Harry, his father'sgrandfather, I have heard say, was a weary set-out for that. Go thyways, Avena, and stand not staring at me. I'm neither a lovesome youngdamsel nor a hobgoblin, that thou shouldst set eyes on me thus. Threeells of red samitelle, and two ounces of violet silk this hue--and a bitof gold twist shall harm no man. Amphillis, my maid, thou art not gluedto the chamber floor like thy mistress; go thou and take thy pleasure tosee the pedlars' packs. Thou hast not much here, poor child!"
Amphillis thankfully accepted her mistress's considerate permission, andran down to the hall. She found the mercer's pack open, and the richstuffs hung all about on the forms, which had been pulled forward forthat purpose. The jeweller meanwhile sat in a corner, resting until hewas wanted. Time was not of much value in the Middle Ages.