The Talisman

  CHAPTER XI.

  One thing is certain in our Northern land-- Allow that birth or valour, wealth or wit, Give each precedence to their possessor, Envy, that follows on such eminence, As comes the lyme-hound on the roebuck's trace, Shall pull them down each one. SIR DAVID LINDSAY.

  Leopold, Grand Duke of Austria, was the first possessor of that noblecountry to whom the princely rank belonged. He had been raised to theducal sway in the German Empire on account of his near relationship tothe Emperor, Henry the Stern, and held under his government the finestprovinces which are watered by the Danube. His character has beenstained in history on account of one action of violence and perfidy,which arose out of these very transactions in the Holy Land; and yetthe shame of having made Richard a prisoner when he returned throughhis dominions; unattended and in disguise, was not one which flowed fromLeopold's natural disposition. He was rather a weak and a vain thanan ambitious or tyrannical prince. His mental powers resembled thequalities of his person. He was tall, strong, and handsome, with acomplexion in which red and white were strongly contrasted, and had longflowing locks of fair hair. But there was an awkwardness in his gaitwhich seemed as if his size was not animated by energy sufficient toput in motion such a mass; and in the same manner, wearing the richestdresses, it always seemed as if they became him not. As a prince, heappeared too little familiar with his own dignity; and being often ata loss how to assert his authority when the occasion demanded it, hefrequently thought himself obliged to recover, by acts and expressionsof ill-timed violence, the ground which might have been easily andgracefully maintained by a little more presence of mind in the beginningof the controversy.

  Not only were these deficiencies visible to others, but the Archdukehimself could not but sometimes entertain a painful consciousness thathe was not altogether fit to maintain and assert the high rank which hehad acquired; and to this was joined the strong, and sometimes the just,suspicion that others esteemed him lightly accordingly.

  When he first joined the Crusade, with a most princely attendance,Leopold had desired much to enjoy the friendship and intimacy ofRichard, and had made such advances towards cultivating his regard asthe King of England ought, in policy, to have received and answered.But the Archduke, though not deficient in bravery, was so infinitelyinferior to Coeur de Lion in that ardour of mind which wooed danger as abride, that the King very soon held him in a certain degree of contempt.Richard, also, as a Norman prince, a people with whom temperance washabitual, despised the inclination of the German for the pleasures ofthe table, and particularly his liberal indulgence in the use of wine.For these, and other personal reasons, the King of England very soonlooked upon the Austrian Prince with feelings of contempt, which he wasat no pains to conceal or modify, and which, therefore, were speedilyremarked, and returned with deep hatred, by the suspicious Leopold. Thediscord between them was fanned by the secret and politic arts of Philipof France, one of the most sagacious monarchs of the time, who, dreadingthe fiery and overbearing character of Richard, considering him as hisnatural rival, and feeling offended, moreover, at the dictatorial mannerin which he, a vassal of France for his Continental domains, conductedhimself towards his liege lord, endeavoured to strengthen his own party,and weaken that of Richard, by uniting the Crusading princes of inferiordegree in resistance to what he termed the usurping authority of theKing of England. Such was the state of politics and opinions entertainedby the Archduke of Austria, when Conrade of Montserrat resolved uponemploying his jealousy of England as the means of dissolving, orloosening at least, the league of the Crusaders.

  The time which he chose for his visit was noon; and the pretence, topresent the Archduke with some choice Cyprus wine which had latelyfallen into his hands, and discuss its comparative merits with those ofHungary and of the Rhine. An intimation of his purpose was, of course,answered by a courteous invitation to partake of the Archducal meal, andevery effort was used to render it fitting the splendour of a sovereignprince. Yet the refined taste of the Italian saw more cumbrous profusionthan elegance or splendour in the display of provisions under which theboard groaned.

  The Germans, though still possessing the martial and frank character oftheir ancestors--who subdued the Roman Empire--had retained withalno slight tinge of their barbarism. The practices and principles ofchivalry were not carried to such a nice pitch amongst them as amongstthe French and English knights, nor were they strict observers of theprescribed rules of society, which among those nations were supposedto express the height of civilization. Sitting at the table of theArchduke, Conrade was at once stunned and amused with the clang ofTeutonic sounds assaulting his ears on all sides, notwithstanding thesolemnity of a princely banquet. Their dress seemed equally fantastic tohim, many of the Austrian nobles retaining their long beards, andalmost all of them wearing short jerkins of various colours, cut, andflourished, and fringed in a manner not common in Western Europe.

  Numbers of dependants, old and young, attended in the pavilion, mingledat times in the conversation, received from their masters the relics ofthe entertainment, and devoured them as they stood behind the backsof the company. Jesters, dwarfs, and minstrels were there in unusualnumbers, and more noisy and intrusive than they were permitted to be inbetter regulated society. As they were allowed to share freely in thewine, which flowed round in large quantities, their licensed tumult wasthe more excessive.

  All this while, and in the midst of a clamour and confusion which wouldbetter have become a German tavern during a fair than the tent of asovereign prince, the Archduke was waited upon with a minuteness of formand observance which showed how anxious he was to maintain rigidly thestate and character to which his elevation had entitled him. He wasserved on the knee, and only by pages of noble blood, fed upon plate ofsilver, and drank his Tokay and Rhenish wines from a cup of gold. Hisducal mantle was splendidly adorned with ermine, his coronet might haveequalled in value a royal crown, and his feet, cased in velvet shoes(the length of which, peaks included, might be two feet), rested upona footstool of solid silver. But it served partly to intimate thecharacter of the man, that, although desirous to show attention to theMarquis of Montserrat, whom he had courteously placed at his right hand,he gave much more of his attention to his SPRUCH-SPRECHER--that is, hisman of conversation, or SAYER-OF-SAYINGS--who stood behind the Duke'sright shoulder.

  This personage was well attired in a cloak and doublet of black velvet,the last of which was decorated with various silver and gold coinsstitched upon it, in memory of the munificent princes who had conferredthem, and bearing a short staff to which also bunches of silver coinswere attached by rings, which he jingled by way of attracting attentionwhen he was about to say anything which he judged worthy of it. Thisperson's capacity in the household of the Archduke was somewhat betwixtthat of a minstrel and a counsellor. He was by turns a flatterer, apoet, and an orator; and those who desired to be well with the Dukegenerally studied to gain the good-will of the SPRUCH-SPRECHER.

  Lest too much of this officer's wisdom should become tiresome, theDuke's other shoulder was occupied by his HOFF-NARR, or court-jester,called Jonas Schwanker, who made almost as much noise with his fool'scap, bells, and bauble, as did the orator, or man of talk, with hisjingling baton.

  These two personages threw out grave and comic nonsense alternately;while their master, laughing or applauding them himself, yet carefullywatched the countenance of his noble guest, to discern what impressionsso accomplished a cavalier received from this display of Austrianeloquence and wit. It is hard to say whether the man of wisdom or theman of folly contributed most to the amusement of the party, or stoodhighest in the estimation of their princely master; but the sallies ofboth seemed excellently well received. Sometimes they became rivals forthe conversation, and clanged their flappers in emulation of each otherwith a most alarming contention; but, in general, they seemed on suchgood terms, and so accustomed to support each other's play, that theSPRUCH-SPRECHER often condescended to follow up
the jester's witticismswith an explanation, to render them more obvious to the capacity ofthe audience, so that his wisdom became a sort of commentary on thebuffoon's folly. And sometimes, in requital, the HOFF-NARR, with a pithyjest, wound up the conclusion of the orator's tedious harangue.

  Whatever his real sentiments might be, Conrade took especial care thathis countenance should express nothing but satisfaction with what heheard, and smiled or applauded as zealously, to all appearance, as theArchduke himself at the solemn folly of the SPRUCH-SPRECHER and thegibbering wit of the fool. In fact, he watched carefully until the oneor other should introduce some topic favourable to the purpose which wasuppermost in his mind.

  It was not long ere the King of England was brought on the carpet by thejester, who had been accustomed to consider Dickon of the Broom (whichirreverent epithet he substituted for Richard Plantagenet) as a subjectof mirth, acceptable and inexhaustible. The orator, indeed, was silent,and it was only when applied to by Conrade that he observed, "TheGENISTA, or broom-plant, was an emblem of humility; and it would be wellwhen those who wore it would remember the warning."

  The allusion to the illustrious badge of Plantagenet was thus renderedsufficiently manifest, and Jonas Schwanker observed that they whohumbled themselves had been exalted with a vengeance. "Honour unto whomhonour is due," answered the Marquis of Montserrat. "We have all hadsome part in these marches and battles, and methinks other princes mightshare a little in the renown which Richard of England engrosses amongstminstrels and MINNE-SINGERS. Has no one of the joyeuse science herepresent a song in praise of the royal Archduke of Austria, our princelyentertainer?"

  Three minstrels emulously stepped forward with voice and harp. Two weresilenced with difficulty by the SPRUCH-SPRECHER, who seemed to act asmaster of the revels, and a hearing was at length procured for thepoet preferred, who sung, in high German, stanzas which may be thustranslated:--

  "What brave chief shall head the forces, Where the red-cross legionsgather? Best of horsemen, best of horses, Highest head and fairestfeather."

  Here the orator, jingling his staff, interrupted the bard to intimate tothe party--what they might not have inferred from the description--thattheir royal host was the party indicated, and a full-crowned goblet wentround to the acclamation, HOCH LEBE DER HERZOG LEOPOLD! Another stanzafollowed:--

  "Ask not Austria why, 'midst princes, Still her banner rises highest;Ask as well the strong-wing'd eagle, Why to heaven he soars thehighest."

  "The eagle," said the expounder of dark sayings, "is the cognizance ofour noble lord the Archduke--of his royal Grace, I would say--and theeagle flies the highest and nearest to the sun of all the featheredcreation."

  "The lion hath taken a spring above the eagle," said Conrade carelessly.

  The Archduke reddened, and fixed his eyes on the speaker, while theSPRUCH-SPRECHER answered, after a minute's consideration, "The LordMarquis will pardon me--a lion cannot fly above an eagle, because nolion hath got wings."

  "Except the lion of Saint Mark," responded the jester.

  "That is the Venetian's banner," said the Duke; "but assuredly thatamphibious race, half nobles, half merchants, will not dare to placetheir rank in comparison with ours."

  "Nay, it was not of the Venetian lion that I spoke," said the Marquis ofMontserrat, "but of the three lions passant of England. Formerly, it issaid, they were leopards; but now they are become lions at all points,and must take precedence of beast, fish, or fowl, or woe worth thegainstander."

  "Mean you seriously, my lord?" said the Austrian, now considerablyflushed with wine. "Think you that Richard of England asserts anypre-eminence over the free sovereigns who have been his voluntary alliesin this Crusade?"

  "I know not but from circumstances," answered Conrade. "Yonder hangshis banner alone in the midst of our camp, as if he were king andgeneralissimo of our whole Christian army."

  "And do you endure this so patiently, and speak of it so coldly?" saidthe Archduke.

  "Nay, my lord," answered Conrade, "it cannot concern the poor Marquis ofMontserrat to contend against an injury patiently submitted to bysuch potent princes as Philip of France and Leopold of Austria. Whatdishonour you are pleased to submit to cannot be a disgrace to me."

  Leopold closed his fist, and struck on the table with violence.

  "I have told Philip of this," he said. "I have often told him that itwas our duty to protect the inferior princes against the usurpationof this islander; but he answers me ever with cold respects of theirrelations together as suzerain and vassal, and that it were impolitic inhim to make an open breach at this time and period."

  "The world knows that Philip is wise," said Conrade, "and will judge hissubmission to be policy. Yours, my lord, you can yourself alone accountfor; but I doubt not you have deep reasons for submitting to Englishdomination."

  "I submit!" said Leopold indignantly--"I, the Archduke of Austria, soimportant and vital a limb of the Holy Roman Empire--I submit myself tothis king of half an island, this grandson of a Norman bastard! No, byHeaven! The camp and all Christendom shall see that I know how to rightmyself, and whether I yield ground one inch to the English bandog.--Up,my lieges and merry men; up and follow me! We will--and that withoutlosing one instant--place the eagle of Austria where she shall float ashigh as ever floated the cognizance of king or kaiser."

  With that he started from his seat, and amidst the tumultuous cheeringof his guests and followers, made for the door of the pavilion, andseized his own banner, which stood pitched before it.

  "Nay, my lord," said Conrade, affecting to interfere, "it will blemishyour wisdom to make an affray in the camp at this hour; and perhaps itis better to submit to the usurpation of England a little longer thanto--"

  "Not an hour, not a moment longer," vociferated the Duke; and with thebanner in his hand, and followed by his shouting guests and attendants,marched hastily to the central mount, from which the banner of Englandfloated, and laid his hand on the standard-spear, as if to pluck it fromthe ground.

  "My master, my dear master!" said Jonas Schwanker, throwing his armsabout the Duke, "take heed--lions have teeth--"

  "And eagles have claws," said the Duke, not relinquishing his hold onthe banner-staff, yet hesitating to pull it from the ground.

  The speaker of sentences, notwithstanding such was his occupation, hadnevertheless some intervals of sound sense. He clashed his staff loudly,and Leopold, as if by habit, turned his head towards his man of counsel.

  "The eagle is king among the fowls of the air," said theSPRUCH-SPRECHER, "as is the lion among the beasts of the field--each hashis dominion, separated as wide as England and Germany. Do thou, nobleeagle, no dishonour to the princely lion, but let your banners remainfloating in peace side by side."

  Leopold withdrew his hand from the banner-spear, and looked round forConrade of Montserrat, but he saw him not; for the Marquis, so soon ashe saw the mischief afoot, had withdrawn himself from the crowd, takingcare, in the first place, to express before several neutral persons hisregret that the Archduke should have chosen the hours after dinner toavenge any wrong of which he might think he had a right to complain. Notseeing his guest, to whom he wished more particularly to have addressedhimself, the Archduke said aloud that, having no wish to breeddissension in the army of the Cross, he did but vindicate his ownprivileges and right to stand upon an equality with the King of England,without desiring, as he might have done, to advance his banner--which hederived from emperors, his progenitors--above that of a mere descendantof the Counts of Anjou; and in the meantime he commanded a cask of wineto be brought hither and pierced, for regaling the bystanders, who,with tuck of drum and sound of music, quaffed many a carouse round theAustrian standard.

  This disorderly scene was not acted without a degree of noise, whichalarmed the whole camp.

  The critical hour had arrived at which the physician, according to therules of his art, had predicted that his royal patient might be awakenedwith safety, and the sponge had been applied for that
purpose; andthe leech had not made many observations ere he assured the Baron ofGilsland that the fever had entirely left his sovereign, and that,such was the happy strength of his constitution, it would not be evennecessary, as in most cases, to give a second dose of the powerfulmedicine. Richard himself seemed to be of the same opinion, for, sittingup and rubbing his eyes, he demanded of De Vaux what present sum ofmoney was in the royal coffers.

  The baron could not exactly inform him of the amount.

  "It matters not," said Richard; "be it greater or smaller, bestow itall on this learned leech, who hath, I trust, given me back again to theservice of the Crusade. If it be less than a thousand byzants, let himhave jewels to make it up."

  "I sell not the wisdom with which Allah has endowed me," answered theArabian physician; "and be it known to you, great Prince, that thedivine medicine of which you have partaken would lose its effects in myunworthy hands did I exchange its virtues either for gold or diamonds."

  "The Physician refuseth a gratuity!" said De Vaux to himself. "This ismore extraordinary than his being a hundred years old."

  "Thomas de Vaux," said Richard, "thou knowest no courage but whatbelongs to the sword, no bounty and virtue but what are used inchivalry. I tell thee that this Moor, in his independence, might set anexample to them who account themselves the flower of knighthood."

  "It is reward enough for me," said the Moor, folding his arms on hisbosom, and maintaining an attitude at once respectful and dignified,"that so great a king as the Melech Ric [Richard was thus called by theEastern nations.] should thus speak of his servant.--But now let me prayyou again to compose yourself on your couch; for though I think thereneeds no further repetition of the divine draught, yet injury mightensue from any too early exertion ere your strength be entirelyrestored."

  "I must obey thee, Hakim," said the King; "yet believe me, my bosomfeels so free from the wasting fire which for so many days hath scorchedit, that I care not how soon I expose it to a brave man's lance.--Buthark! what mean these shouts, and that distant music, in the camp? Go,Thomas de Vaux, and make inquiry."

  "It is the Archduke Leopold," said De Vaux, returning after a minute'sabsence, "who makes with his pot-companions some procession through thecamp."

  "The drunken fool!" exclaimed King Richard; "can he not keep his brutalinebriety within the veil of his pavilion, that he must needs showhis shame to all Christendom?--What say you, Sir Marquis?" he added,addressing himself to Conrade of Montserrat, who at that moment enteredthe tent.

  "Thus much, honoured Prince," answered the Marquis, "that I delightto see your Majesty so well, and so far recovered; and that is a longspeech for any one to make who has partaken of the Duke of Austria'shospitality."

  "What! you have been dining with the Teutonic wine-skin!" saidthe monarch. "And what frolic has he found out to cause all thisdisturbance? Truly, Sir Conrade, I have still held you so good areveller that I wonder at your quitting the game."

  De Vaux, who had got a little behind the King, now exerted himself bylook and sign to make the Marquis understand that he should say nothingto Richard of what was passing without. But Conrade understood not, orheeded not, the prohibition.

  "What the Archduke does," he said, "is of little consequence to any one,least of all to himself, since he probably knows not what he is acting;yet, to say truth, it is a gambol I should not like to share in, sincehe is pulling down the banner of England from Saint George's Mount, inthe centre of the camp yonder, and displaying his own in its stead."

  "WHAT sayest thou?" exclaimed the King, in a tone which might have wakedthe dead.

  "Nay," said the Marquis, "let it not chafe your Highness that a foolshould act according to his folly--"

  "Speak not to me," said Richard, springing from his couch, and castingon his clothes with a dispatch which seemed marvellous--"Speak not tome, Lord Marquis!--De Multon, I command thee speak not a word tome--he that breathes but a syllable is no friend to RichardPlantagenet.--Hakim, be silent, I charge thee!"

  All this while the King was hastily clothing himself, and, with the lastword, snatched his sword from the pillar of the tent, and without anyother weapon, or calling any attendance, he rushed out of his pavilion.Conrade, holding up his hands as if in astonishment, seemed willing toenter into conversation with De Vaux; but Sir Thomas pushed rudely pasthim, and calling to one of the royal equerries, said hastily, "Fly toLord Salisbury's quarters, and let him get his men together and followme instantly to Saint George's Mount. Tell him the King's fever has lefthis blood and settled in his brain."

  Imperfectly heard, and still more imperfectly comprehended, by thestartled attendant whom De Vaux addressed thus hastily, the equerry andhis fellow-servants of the royal chamber rushed hastily into the tentsof the neighbouring nobility, and quickly spread an alarm, as generalas the cause seemed vague, through the whole British forces. The Englishsoldiers, waked in alarm from that noonday rest which the heat of theclimate had taught them to enjoy as a luxury, hastily asked each otherthe cause of the tumult, and without waiting an answer, supplied by theforce of their own fancy the want of information. Some said the Saracenswere in the camp, some that the King's life was attempted, some that hehad died of the fever the preceding night, many that he was assassinatedby the Duke of Austria. The nobles and officers, at an equal loss withthe common men to ascertain the real cause of the disorder, labouredonly to get their followers under arms and under authority, lest theirrashness should occasion some great misfortune to the Crusading army.The English trumpets sounded loud, shrill, and continuously. Thealarm-cry of "Bows and bills, bows and bills!" was heard from quarterto quarter, again and again shouted, and again and again answered by thepresence of the ready warriors, and their national invocation, "SaintGeorge for merry England!"

  The alarm went through the nearest quarter of the camp, and men ofall the various nations assembled, where, perhaps, every people inChristendom had their representatives, flew to arms, and drew togetherunder circumstances of general confusion, of which they knew neitherthe cause nor the object. It was, however, lucky, amid a scene sothreatening, that the Earl of Salisbury, while he hurried after DeVaux's summons with a few only of the readiest English men-at-arms,directed the rest of the English host to be drawn up and kept underarms, to advance to Richard's succour if necessity should require, butin fit array and under due command, and not with the tumultuaryhaste which their own alarm and zeal for the King's safety might havedictated.

  In the meanwhile, without regarding for one instant the shouts, thecries, the tumult which began to thicken around him, Richard, withhis dress in the last disorder, and his sheathed blade under his arm,pursued his way with the utmost speed, followed only by De Vaux and oneor two household servants, to Saint George's Mount.

  He outsped even the alarm which his impetuosity only had excited,and passed the quarter of his own gallant troops of Normandy, Poitou,Gascony, and Anjou before the disturbance had reached them, although thenoise accompanying the German revel had induced many of the soldiery toget on foot to listen. The handful of Scots were also quartered in thevicinity, nor had they been disturbed by the uproar. But the King'sperson and his haste were both remarked by the Knight of the Leopard,who, aware that danger must be afoot, and hastening to share in it,snatched his shield and sword, and united himself to De Vaux, who withsome difficulty kept pace with his impatient and fiery master. De Vauxanswered a look of curiosity, which the Scottish knight directed towardshim, with a shrug of his broad shoulders, and they continued, side byside, to pursue Richard's steps.

  The King was soon at the foot of Saint George's Mount, the sides as wellas platform of which were now surrounded and crowded, partly by thosebelonging to the Duke of Austria's retinue, who were celebrating, withshouts of jubilee, the act which they considered as an assertion ofnational honour; partly by bystanders of different nations, whom disliketo the English, or mere curiosity, had assembled together to witness theend of these extraordinary proceedings. Through this disorderly troopRichard
burst his way, like a goodly ship under full sail, which cleavesher forcible passage through the rolling billows, and heeds not thatthey unite after her passage and roar upon her stern.

  The summit of the eminence was a small level space, on which werepitched the rival banners, surrounded still by the Archduke's friendsand retinue. In the midst of the circle was Leopold himself, stillcontemplating with self-satisfaction the deed he had done, and stilllistening to the shouts of applause which his partisans bestowed with nosparing breath. While he was in this state of self-gratulation, Richardburst into the circle, attended, indeed, only by two men, but in his ownheadlong energies an irresistible host.

  "Who has dared," he said, laying his hands upon the Austrianstandard, and speaking in a voice like the sound which precedes anearthquake--"Who has dared to place this paltry rag beside the banner ofEngland?"

  The Archduke wanted not personal courage, and it was impossible hecould hear this question without reply. Yet so much was he troubledand surprised by the unexpected arrival of Richard, and affected by thegeneral awe inspired by his ardent and unyielding character, that thedemand was twice repeated, in a tone which seemed to challenge heavenand earth, ere the Archduke replied, with such firmness as he couldcommand, "It was I, Leopold of Austria."

  "Then shall Leopold of Austria," replied Richard, "presentry see therate at which his banner and his pretensions are held by Richard ofEngland."

  So saying, he pulled up the standard-spear, splintered it to pieces,threw the banner itself on the ground, and placed his foot upon it.

  "Thus," said he, "I trample on the banner of Austria. Is there a knightamong your Teutonic chivalry dare impeach my deed?"

  There was a momentary silence; but there are no braver men than theGermans.

  "I," and "I," and "I," was heard from several knights of the Duke"sfollowers; and he himself added his voice to those which accepted theKing of England's defiance.

  "Why do we dally thus?" said the Earl Wallenrode, a gigantic warriorfrom the frontiers of Hungary. "Brethren and noble gentlemen, this man'sfoot is on the honour of your country--let us rescue it from violation,and down with the pride of England!"

  So saying, he drew his sword, and struck at the King a blow which mighthave proved fatal, had not the Scot intercepted and caught it upon hisshield.

  "I have sworn," said King Richard--and his voice was heard above allthe tumult, which now waxed wild and loud--"never to strike one whoseshoulder bears the cross; therefore live, Wallenrode--but live toremember Richard of England."

  As he spoke, he grasped the tall Hungarian round the waist, and,unmatched in wrestling, as in other military exercises, hurled himbackwards with such violence that the mass flew as if discharged from amilitary engine, not only through the ring of spectators who witnessedthe extraordinary scene, but over the edge of the mount itself, downthe steep side of which Wallenrode rolled headlong, until, pitching atlength upon his shoulder, he dislocated the bone, and lay like one dead.This almost supernatural display of strength did not encourage eitherthe Duke or any of his followers to renew a personal contest soinauspiciously commenced. Those who stood farthest back did, indeed,clash their swords, and cry out, "Cut the island mastiff to pieces!"but those who were nearer veiled, perhaps, their personal fears under anaffected regard for order, and cried, for the most part, "Peace! Peace!the peace of the Cross--the peace of Holy Church and our Father thePope!"

  These various cries of the assailants, contradicting each other, showedtheir irresolution; while Richard, his foot still on the archducalbanner, glared round him with an eye that seemed to seek an enemy, andfrom which the angry nobles shrunk appalled, as from the threatenedgrasp of a lion. De Vaux and the Knight of the Leopard kept their placesbeside him; and though the swords which they held were still sheathed,it was plain that they were prompt to protect Richard's person to thevery last, and their size and remarkable strength plainly showed thedefence would be a desperate one.

  Salisbury and his attendants were also now drawing near, with bills andpartisans brandished, and bows already bended.

  At this moment King Philip of France, attended by one or two of hisnobles, came on the platform to inquire the cause of the disturbance,and made gestures of surprise at finding the King of England raised fromhis sick-bed, and confronting their common ally, the Duke of Austria, insuch a menacing and insulting posture. Richard himself blushed at beingdiscovered by Philip, whose sagacity he respected as much as he dislikedhis person, in an attitude neither becoming his character as a monarch,nor as a Crusader; and it was observed that he withdrew his foot, asif accidentally, from the dishonoured banner, and exchanged his look ofviolent emotion for one of affected composure and indifference. Leopoldalso struggled to attain some degree of calmness, mortified as he wasby having been seen by Philip in the act of passively submitting to theinsults of the fiery King of England.

  Possessed of many of those royal qualities for which he was termed byhis subjects the August, Philip might be termed the Ulysses, as Richardwas indisputably the Achilles, of the Crusade. The King of France wassagacious, wise, deliberate in council, steady and calm in action,seeing clearly, and steadily pursuing, the measures most for theinterest of his kingdom--dignified and royal in his deportment, brave inperson, but a politician rather than a warrior. The Crusade wouldhave been no choice of his own; but the spirit was contagious, and theexpedition was enforced upon him by the church, and by the unanimouswish of his nobility. In any other situation, or in a milder age, hischaracter might have stood higher than that of the adventurous Coeur deLion. But in the Crusade, itself an undertaking wholly irrational, soundreason was the quality of all others least estimated, and the chivalricvalour which both the age and the enterprise demanded was considered asdebased if mingled with the least touch of discretion. So that the meritof Philip, compared with that of his haughty rival, showed like theclear but minute flame of a lamp placed near the glare of a huge,blazing torch, which, not possessing half the utility, makes ten timesmore impression on the eye. Philip felt his inferiority in publicopinion with the pain natural to a high-spirited prince; and it cannotbe wondered at if he took such opportunities as offered for placing hisown character in more advantageous contrast with that of his rival. Thepresent seemed one of those occasions in which prudence and calmnessmight reasonably expect to triumph over obstinacy and impetuousviolence.

  "What means this unseemly broil betwixt the sworn brethren of theCross--the royal Majesty of England and the princely Duke Leopold? Howis it possible that those who are the chiefs and pillars of this holyexpedition--"

  "A truce with thy remonstrance, France," said Richard, enraged inwardlyat finding himself placed on a sort of equality with Leopold, yet notknowing how to resent it. "This duke, or prince, or pillar, if you will,hath been insolent, and I have chastised him--that is all. Here is acoil, forsooth, because of spurning a hound!"

  "Majesty of France," said the Duke, "I appeal to you and every sovereignprince against the foul indignity which I have sustained. This King ofEngland hath pulled down my banner-torn and trampled on it."

  "Because he had the audacity to plant it beside mine," said Richard.

  "My rank as thine equal entitled me," replied the Duke, emboldened bythe presence of Philip.

  "Assert such equality for thy person," said King Richard, "and, by SaintGeorge, I will treat thy person as I did thy broidered kerchief there,fit but for the meanest use to which kerchief may be put."

  "Nay, but patience, brother of England," said Philip, "and I willpresently show Austria that he is wrong in this matter.--Do not think,noble Duke," he continued, "that, in permitting the standard of Englandto occupy the highest point in our camp, we, the independent sovereignsof the Crusade, acknowledge any inferiority to the royal Richard. Itwere inconsistent to think so, since even the Oriflamme itself--thegreat banner of France, to which the royal Richard himself, in respectof his French possessions, is but a vassal--holds for the present aninferior place to the Lions of England. But as sw
orn brethren of theCross, military pilgrims, who, laying aside the pomp and pride of thisworld, are hewing with our swords the way to the Holy Sepulchre, Imyself, and the other princes, have renounced to King Richard, fromrespect to his high renown and great feats of arms, that precedencewhich elsewhere, and upon other motives, would not have been yielded.I am satisfied that, when your royal grace of Austria shall haveconsidered this, you will express sorrow for having placed your banneron this spot, and that the royal Majesty of England will then givesatisfaction for the insult he has offered."

  The SPRUCH-SPRECHER and the jester had both retired to a safe distancewhen matters seemed coming to blows; but returned when words, their owncommodity, seemed again about to become the order of the day.

  The man of proverbs was so delighted with Philip's politic speech thathe clashed his baton at the conclusion, by way of emphasis, and forgotthe presence in which he was, so far as to say aloud that he himself hadnever said a wiser thing in his life.

  "It may be so," whispered Jonas Schwanker, "but we shall be whipped ifyou speak so loud."

  The Duke answered sullenly that he would refer his quarrel to theGeneral Council of the Crusade--a motion which Philip highly applauded,as qualified to take away a scandal most harmful to Christendom.

  Richard, retaining the same careless attitude, listened to Philip untilhis oratory seemed exhausted, and then said aloud, "I am drowsy--thisfever hangs about me still. Brother of France, thou art acquainted withmy humour, and that I have at all times but few words to spare. Know,therefore, at once, I will submit a matter touching the honourof England neither to Prince, Pope, nor Council. Here stands mybanner--whatsoever pennon shall be reared within three butts' lengthof it--ay, were it the Oriflamme, of which you were, I think, but nowspeaking--shall be treated as that dishonoured rag; nor will I yieldother satisfaction than that which these poor limbs can render in thelists to any bold challenge--ay, were it against five champions insteadof one."

  "Now," said the jester, whispering his companion, "that is as completea piece of folly as if I myself had said it; but yet, I think, there maybe in this matter a greater fool than Richard yet."

  "And who may that be?" asked the man of wisdom.

  "Philip," said the jester, "or our own Royal Duke, should either acceptthe challenge. But oh, most sage SPRUCH-SPECHER, what excellent kingswouldst thou and I have made, since those on whose heads these crownshave fallen can play the proverb-monger and the fool as completely asourselves!"

  While these worthies plied their offices apart, Philip answered calmlyto the almost injurious defiance of Richard, "I came not hither toawaken fresh quarrels, contrary to the oath we have sworn, and the holycause in which we have engaged. I part from my brother of England asbrothers should part, and the only strife between the Lions of Englandand the Lilies of France shall be which shall be carried deepest intothe ranks of the infidels."

  "It is a bargain, my royal brother," said Richard, stretching out hishand with all the frankness which belonged to his rash but generousdisposition; "and soon may we have the opportunity to try this gallantand fraternal wager."

  "Let this noble Duke also partake in the friendship of this happymoment," said Philip; and the Duke approached half-sullenly,half-willing to enter into some accommodation.

  "I think not of fools, nor of their folly," said Richard carelessly; andthe Archduke, turning his back on him, withdrew from the ground.

  Richard looked after him as he retired.

  "There is a sort of glow-worm courage," he said, "that shows only bynight. I must not leave this banner unguarded in darkness; by daylightthe look of the Lions will alone defend it. Here, Thomas of Gilsland, Igive thee the charge of the standard--watch over the honour of England."

  "Her safety is yet more dear to me," said De Vaux, "and the life ofRichard is the safety of England. I must have your Highness back to yourtent, and that without further tarriance."

  "Thou art a rough and peremptory nurse, De Vaux," said the king,smiling; and then added, addressing Sir Kenneth, "Valiant Scot, Iowe thee a boon, and I will pay it richly. There stands the banner ofEngland! Watch it as novice does his armour on the night before he isdubbed. Stir not from it three spears' length, and defend it with thybody against injury or insult. Sound thy bugle if thou art assailed bymore than three at once. Dost thou undertake the charge?"

  "Willingly," said Kenneth; "and will discharge it upon penalty of myhead. I will but arm me, and return hither instantly."

  The Kings of France and England then took formal leave of each other,hiding, under an appearance of courtesy, the grounds of complaint whicheither had against the other--Richard against Philip, for what he deemedan officious interference betwixt him and Austria, and Philip againstCoeur de Lion, for the disrespectful manner in which his mediation hadbeen received. Those whom this disturbance had assembled now drew off indifferent directions, leaving the contested mount in the same solitudewhich had subsisted till interrupted by the Austrian bravado. Men judgedof the events of the day according to their partialities, and while theEnglish charged the Austrian with having afforded the first ground ofquarrel, those of other nations concurred in casting the greater blameupon the insular haughtiness and assuming character of Richard.

  "Thou seest," said the Marquis of Montserrat to the Grand Master of theTemplars, "that subtle courses are more effective than violence. Ihave unloosed the bonds which held together this bunch of sceptres andlances--thou wilt see them shortly fall asunder."

  "I would have called thy plan a good one," said the Templar, "had therebeen but one man of courage among yonder cold-blooded Austrians to severthe bonds of which you speak with his sword. A knot that is unloosed mayagain be fastened, but not so the cord which has been cut to pieces."