CHAPTER XVIII.
This work desires a planetary intelligence Of Jupiter and Sol; and those great spirits Are proud, fantastical. It asks great charges To entice them from the guiding of their spheres, To wait on mortals. ALBUMAZAR.
The hermit followed the ladies from the pavilion of Richard, as shadowfollows a beam of sunshine when the clouds are driving over the face ofthe sun. But he turned on the threshold, and held up his hand towardsthe King in a warning, or almost a menacing posture, as he said, "Woe tohim who rejects the counsel of the church, and betaketh himself to thefoul divan of the infidel! King Richard, I do not yet shake the dustfrom my feet and depart from thy encampment; the sword falls not--but ithangs but by a hair. Haughty monarch, we shall meet again."
"Be it so, haughty priest," returned Richard, "prouder in thy goatskinsthan princes in purple and fine linen."
The hermit vanished from the tent, and the King continued, addressingthe Arabian, "Do the dervises of the East, wise Hakim, use suchfamiliarity with their princes?"
"The dervise," replied Adonbec, "should be either a sage or a madman;there is no middle course for him who wears the khirkhah, [Literally,the torn robe. The habit of the dervises is so called.] who watchesby night, and fasts by day. Hence hath he either wisdom enough to bearhimself discreetly in the presence of princes; or else, having no reasonbestowed on him, he is not responsible for his own actions."
"Methinks our monks have adopted chiefly the latter character," saidRichard. "But to the matter. In what can I pleasure you, my learnedphysician?"
"Great King," said El Hakim, making his profound Oriental obeisance,"let thy servant speak one word, and yet live. I would remind theethat thou owest--not to me, their humble instrument--but to theIntelligences, whose benefits I dispense to mortals, a life--"
"And I warrant me thou wouldst have another in requital, ha?"interrupted the King.
"Such is my humble prayer," said the Hakim, "to the great MelechRic--even the life of this good knight, who is doomed to die, andbut for such fault as was committed by the Sultan Adam, surnamedAboulbeschar, or the father of all men."
"And thy wisdom might remind thee, Hakim, that Adam died for it," saidthe King, somewhat sternly, and then began to pace the narrow space ofhis tent with some emotion, and to talk to himself. "Why, God-a-mercy,I knew what he desired as soon as ever he entered the pavilion! Hereis one poor life justly condemned to extinction, and I, a king and asoldier, who have slain thousands by my command, and scores with my ownhand, am to have no power over it, although the honour of my arms, ofmy house, of my very Queen, hath been attainted by the culprit. By SaintGeorge, it makes me laugh! By Saint Louis, it reminds me of Blondel'stale of an enchanted castle, where the destined knight was withstoodsuccessively in his purpose of entrance by forms and figures the mostdissimilar, but all hostile to his undertaking! No sooner one sunk thananother appeared! Wife--kinswoman--hermit--Hakim-each appears in thelists as soon as the other is defeated! Why, this is a single knightfighting against the whole MELEE of the tournament--ha! ha! ha!" AndRichard laughed aloud; for he had, in fact, begun to change his mood,his resentment being usually too violent to be of long endurance.
The physician meanwhile looked on him with a countenance of surprise,not unmingled with contempt; for the Eastern people make no allowancefor these mercurial changes in the temper, and consider open laughter,upon almost any account, as derogatory to the dignity of man, andbecoming only to women and children. At length the sage addressed theKing when he saw him more composed:--
"A doom of death should not issue from laughing lips. Let thy servanthope that thou hast granted him this man's life."
"Take the freedom of a thousand captives instead," said Richard;"restore so many of thy countrymen to their tents and families, and Iwill give the warrant instantly. This man's life can avail thee nothing,and it is forfeited."
"All our lives are forfeited," said the Hakim, putting his hand to hiscap. "But the great Creditor is merciful, and exacts not the pledgerigorously nor untimely."
"Thou canst show me," said Richard, "no special interest thou hast tobecome intercessor betwixt me and the execution of justice, to which Iam sworn as a crowned king."
"Thou art sworn to the dealing forth mercy as well as justice," said ElHakim; "but what thou seekest, great King, is the execution of thine ownwill. And for the concern I have in this request, know that many a man'slife depends upon thy granting this boon."
"Explain thy words," said Richard; "but think not to impose upon me byfalse pretexts."
"Be it far from thy servant!" said Adonbec. "Know, then, that themedicine to which thou, Sir King, and many one besides, owe theirrecovery, is a talisman, composed under certain aspects of the heavens,when the Divine Intelligences are most propitious. I am but the pooradministrator of its virtues. I dip it in a cup of water, observe thefitting hour to administer it to the patient, and the potency of thedraught works the cure."
"A most rare medicine," said the King, "and a commodious! and, as it maybe carried in the leech's purse, would save the whole caravan of camelswhich they require to convey drugs and physic stuff; I marvel there isany other in use."
"It is written," answered the Hakim, with imperturbable gravity, "'Abusenot the steed which hath borne thee from the battle.' Know that suchtalismans might indeed be framed, but rare has been the number of adeptswho have dared to undertake the application of their virtue. Severerestrictions, painful observances, fasts, and penance, are necessary onthe part of the sage who uses this mode of cure; and if, through neglectof these preparations, by his love of ease, or his indulgence of sensualappetite, he omits to cure at least twelve persons within the course ofeach moon, the virtue of the divine gift departs from the amulet,and both the last patient and the physician will be exposed to speedymisfortune, neither will they survive the year. I require yet one lifeto make up the appointed number."
"Go out into the camp, good Hakim, where thou wilt find a-many," saidthe King, "and do not seek to rob my headsman of HIS patients; it isunbecoming a mediciner of thine eminence to interfere with the practiceof another. Besides, I cannot see how delivering a criminal from thedeath he deserves should go to make up thy tale of miraculous cures."
"When thou canst show why a draught of cold water should have curedthee when the most precious drugs failed," said the Hakim, "thou mayestreason on the other mysteries attendant on this matter. For myself, Iam inefficient to the great work, having this morning touched an uncleananimal. Ask, therefore, no further questions; it is enough that, bysparing this man's life at my request, you will deliver yourself, greatKing, and thy servant, from a great danger."
"Hark thee, Adonbec," replied the King, "I have no objection thatleeches should wrap their words in mist, and pretend to derive knowledgefrom the stars; but when you bid Richard Plantagenet fear that a dangerwill fall upon HIM from some idle omen, or omitted ceremonial, you speakto no ignorant Saxon, or doting old woman, who foregoes her purposebecause a hare crosses the path, a raven croaks, or a cat sneezes."
"I cannot hinder your doubt of my words," said Adonbec; "but yet let myLord the King grant that truth is on the tongue of his servant--will hethink it just to deprive the world, and every wretch who may suffer bythe pains which so lately reduced him to that couch, of the benefit ofthis most virtuous talisman, rather than extend his forgiveness to onepoor criminal? Bethink you, Lord King, that, though thou canst slaythousands, thou canst not restore one man to health. Kings have thepower of Satan to torment, sages that of Allah to heal--beware how thouhinderest the good to humanity which thou canst not thyself render. Thoucanst cut off the head, but not cure the aching tooth."
"This is over-insolent," said the King, hardening himself, as the Hakimassumed a more lofty and almost a commanding tone. "We took thee for ourleech, not for our counsellor or conscience-keeper."
"And is it thus the most renowned Prince of Frangistan repays benefitdone to his royal person?" said El Hakim, exchangi
ng the humble andstooping posture in which he had hitherto solicited the King, for anattitude lofty and commanding. "Know, then," he said, "that: throughevery court of Europe and Asia--to Moslem and Nazarene--to knight andlady--wherever harp is heard and sword worn--wherever honour is lovedand infamy detested--to every quarter of the world--will I denouncethee, Melech Ric, as thankless and ungenerous; and even the lands--ifthere be any such--that never heard of thy renown shall yet beacquainted with thy shame!"
"Are these terms to me, vile infidel?" said Richard, striding up to himin fury. "Art weary of thy life?"
"Strike!" said El Hakim; "thine own deed shall then paint thee moreworthless than could my words, though each had a hornet's sting."
Richard turned fiercely from him, folded his arms, traversed the tentas before, and then exclaimed, "Thankless and ungenerous!--as well betermed coward and infidel! Hakim, thou hast chosen thy boon; and thoughI had rather thou hadst asked my crown jewels, yet I may not, kinglike,refuse thee. Take this Scot, therefore, to thy keeping; the provost willdeliver him to thee on this warrant."
He hastily traced one or two lines, and gave them to the physician. "Usehim as thy bond-slave, to be disposed of as thou wilt--only, let himbeware how he comes before the eyes of Richard. Hark thee--thou artwise--he hath been over-bold among those in whose fair looks and weakjudgments we trust our honour, as you of the East lodge your treasuresin caskets of silver wire, as fine and as frail as the web of agossamer."
"Thy servant understands the words of the King," said the sage, at onceresuming the reverent style of address in which he had commenced. "Whenthe rich carpet is soiled, the fool pointeth to the stain--the wise mancovers it with his mantle. I have heard my lord's pleasure, and to hearis to obey."
"It is well," said the King; "let him consult his own safety, and neverappear in my presence more. Is there aught else in which I may do theepleasure?"
"The bounty of the King hath filled my cup to the brim," said thesage--"yea, it hath been abundant as the fountain which sprung up amidthe camp of the descendants of Israel when the rock was stricken by therod of Moussa Ben Amram."
"Ay, but," said the King, smiling, "it required, as in the desert, ahard blow on the rock ere it yielded its treasures. I would that I knewsomething to pleasure thee, which I might yield as freely as the naturalfountain sends forth its waters."
"Let me touch that victorious hand," said the sage, "in token that ifAdonbec el Hakim should hereafter demand a boon of Richard of England,he may do so, yet plead his command."
"Thou hast hand and glove upon it, man," replied Richard; "only, if thoucouldst consistently make up thy tale of patients without craving meto deliver from punishment those who have deserved it, I would morewillingly discharge my debt in some other form."
"May thy days be multiplied!" answered the Hakim, and withdrew from theapartment after the usual deep obeisance.
King Richard gazed after him as he departed, like one but half-satisfiedwith what had passed.
"Strange pertinacity," he said, "in this Hakim, and a wonderful chanceto interfere between that audacious Scot and the chastisement he hasmerited so richly. Yet let him live! there is one brave man the more inthe world. And now for the Austrian. Ho! is the Baron of Gilsland therewithout?"
Sir Thomas de Vaux thus summoned, his bulky form speedily darkenedthe opening of the pavilion, while behind him glided as a spectre,unannounced, yet unopposed, the savage form of the hermit of Engaddi,wrapped in his goatskin mantle.
Richard, without noticing his presence, called in a loud tone to thebaron, "Sir Thomas de Vaux, of Lanercost and Gilsland, take trumpet andherald, and go instantly to the tent of him whom they call Archduke ofAustria, and see that it be when the press of his knights and vassalsis greatest around him, as is likely at this hour, for the Germanboar breakfasts ere he hears mass--enter his presence with as littlereverence as thou mayest, and impeach him, on the part of Richard ofEngland, that he hath this night, by his own hand, or that of others,stolen from its staff the Banner of England. Wherefore say to him ourpleasure that within an hour from the time of my speaking he restorethe said banner with all reverence--he himself and his principal baronswaiting the whilst with heads uncovered, and without their robes ofhonour. And that, moreover, he pitch beside it, on the one hand, his ownBanner of Austria reversed, as that which hath been dishonoured by theftand felony, and on the other, a lance, bearing the bloody head of himwho was his nearest counsellor, or assistant, in this base injury. Andsay, that such our behests being punctually discharged we will, forthe sake of our vow and the weal of the Holy Land, forgive his otherforfeits."
"And how if the Duke of Austria deny all accession to this act of wrongand of felony?" said Thomas de Vaux.
"Tell him," replied the King, "we will prove it upon his body--ay, werehe backed with his two bravest champions. Knightlike will we prove it,on foot or on horse, in the desert or in the field, time, place, andarms all at his own choice."
"Bethink you of the peace of God and the church, my liege lord,"said the Baron of Gilsland, "among those princes engaged in this holyCrusade."
"Bethink you how to execute my commands, my liege vassal," answeredRichard impatiently. "Methinks men expect to turn our purpose by theirbreath, as boys blow feathers to and fro. Peace of the church! Who, Iprithee, minds it? The peace of the church, among Crusaders, implies warwith the Saracens, with whom the princes have made truce; and the oneends with the other. And besides, see you not how every prince of themis seeking his own several ends? I will seek mine also--and that ishonour. For honour I came hither; and if I may not win it upon theSaracens, at least I will not lose a jot from any respect to this paltryDuke, though he were bulwarked and buttressed by every prince in theCrusade."
De Vaux turned to obey the King's mandate, shrugging his shoulders atthe same time, the bluntness of his nature being unable to conceal thatits tenor went against his judgment. But the hermit of Engaddi steppedforward, and assumed the air of one charged with higher commands thanthose of a mere earthly potentate. Indeed, his dress of shaggy skins,his uncombed and untrimmed hair and beard, his lean, wild, and contortedfeatures, and the almost insane fire which gleamed from under hisbushy eyebrows, made him approach nearly to our idea of some seer ofScripture, who, charged with high mission to the sinful Kings of Judahor Israel, descended from the rocks and caverns in which he dwelt inabstracted solitude, to abash earthly tyrants in the midst of theirpride, by discharging on them the blighting denunciations of DivineMajesty, even as the cloud discharges the lightnings with which it isfraught on the pinnacles and towers of castles and palaces. In themidst of his most wayward mood, Richard respected the church and itsministers; and though offended at the intrusion of the hermit into histent, he greeted him with respect--at the same time, however, making asign to Sir Thomas de Vaux to hasten on his message.
But the hermit prohibited the baron, by gesture, look, and word, to stira yard on such an errand; and holding up his bare arm, from which thegoatskin mantle fell back in the violence of his action, he waved italoft, meagre with famine, and wealed with the blows of the discipline.
"In the name of God, and of the most holy Father, the vicegerent of theChristian Church upon earth, I prohibit this most profane, bloodthirsty,and brutal defiance betwixt two Christian princes, whose shoulders aresigned with the blessed mark under which they swore brotherhood. Woeto him by whom it is broken!--Richard of England, recall the mostunhallowed message thou hast given to that baron. Danger and death arenigh thee!--the dagger is glancing at thy very throat!--"
"Danger and death are playmates to Richard," answered the Monarchproudly; "and he hath braved too many swords to fear a dagger."
"Danger and death are near," replied the seer, and sinking his voice toa hollow, unearthly tone, he added, "And after death the judgment!"
"Good and holy father," said Richard, "I reverence thy person and thysanctity--"
"Reverence not me!" interrupted the hermit; "reverence sooner the vilestinsect that cr
awls by the shores of the Dead Sea, and feeds upon itsaccursed slime. But reverence Him whose commands I speak--reverence Himwhose sepulchre you have vowed to rescue--revere the oath of concordwhich you have sworn, and break not the silver cord of unionand fidelity with which you have bound yourself to your princelyconfederates."
"Good father," said the King, "you of the church seem to me to presumesomewhat, if a layman may say so much, upon the dignity of yourholy character. Without challenging your right to take charge of ourconscience, methinks you might leave us the charge of our own honour."
"Presume!" repeated the hermit. "Is it for me to presume, royal Richard,who am but the bell obeying the hand of the sexton--but the senselessand worthless trumpet carrying the command of him who sounds it? See,on my knees I throw myself before thee, imploring thee to have mercy onChristendom, on England, and on thyself!"
"Rise, rise," said Richard, compelling him to stand up; "it beseems notthat knees which are so frequently bended to the Deity should press theground in honour of man. What danger awaits us, reverend father? andwhen stood the power of England so low that the noisy bluster of thisnew-made Duke's displeasure should alarm her or her monarch?"
"I have looked forth from my mountain turret upon the starry host ofheaven, as each in his midnight circuit uttered wisdom to another, andknowledge to the few who can understand their voice. There sits an enemyin thy House of Life, Lord King, malign at once to thy fame and thyprosperity--an emanation of Saturn, menacing thee with instant andbloody peril, and which, but thou yield thy proud will to the rule ofthy duty, will presently crush thee even in thy pride."
"Away, away--this is heathen science," said the King. "Christianspractise it not--wise men believe it not. Old man, thou dotest."
"I dote not, Richard," answered the hermit--"I am not so happy. I knowmy condition, and that some portion of reason is yet permitted me, notfor my own use, but that of the Church and the advancement of the Cross.I am the blind man who holds a torch to others, though it yields nolight to himself. Ask me touching what concerns the weal of Christendom,and of this Crusade, and I will speak with thee as the wisest counselloron whose tongue persuasion ever sat. Speak to me of my own wretchedbeing, and my words shall be those of the maniac outcast which I am."
"I would not break the bands of unity asunder among the princes of theCrusade," said Richard, with a mitigated tone and manner; "but whatatonement can they render me for the injustice and insult which I havesustained?"
"Even of that I am prepared and commissioned to speak by the Council,which, meeting hastily at the summons of Philip of France, have takenmeasures for that effect."
"Strange," replied Richard, "that others should treat of what is due tothe wounded majesty of England!"
"They are willing to anticipate your demands, if it be possible,"answered the hermit. "In a body, they consent that the Banner ofEngland be replaced on Saint George's Mount; and they lay under banand condemnation the audacious criminal, or criminals, by whom it wasoutraged, and will announce a princely reward to any who shall denouncethe delinquent's guilt, and give his flesh to the wolves and ravens."
"And Austria," said Richard, "upon whom rest such strong presumptionsthat he was the author of the deed?"
"To prevent discord in the host," replied the hermit, "Austria willclear himself of the suspicion by submitting to whatsoever ordeal thePatriarch of Jerusalem shall impose."
"Will he clear himself by the trial by combat?" said King Richard.
"His oath prohibits it," said the hermit; "and, moreover, the Council ofthe Princes--"
"Will neither authorize battle against the Saracens," interruptedRichard, "nor against any one else. But it is enough, father--thou hastshown me the folly of proceeding as I designed in this matter. You shallsooner light your torch in a puddle of rain than bring a spark out of acold-blooded coward. There is no honour to be gained on Austria, and solet him pass. I will have him perjure himself, however; I will insiston the ordeal. How I shall laugh to hear his clumsy fingers hiss, as hegrasps the red-hot globe of iron! Ay, or his huge mouth riven, andhis gullet swelling to suffocation, as he endeavours to swallow theconsecrated bread!"
"Peace, Richard," said the hermit--"oh, peace, for shame, if not forcharity! Who shall praise or honour princes who insult and calumniateeach other? Alas! that a creature so noble as thou art--so accomplishedin princely thoughts and princely daring--so fitted to honourChristendom by thy actions, and, in thy calmer mood, to rule her by thywisdom, should yet have the brute and wild fury of the lion mingled withthe dignity and courage of that king of the forest!"
He remained an instant musing with his eyes fixed on the ground, andthen proceeded--"But Heaven, that knows our imperfect nature, acceptsof our imperfect obedience, and hath delayed, though not averted, thebloody end of thy daring life. The destroying angel hath stood still, asof old by the threshing-floor of Araunah the Jebusite, and the bladeis drawn in his hand, by which, at no distant date, Richard, thelion-hearted, shall be as low as the meanest peasant."
"Must it, then, be so soon?" said Richard. "Yet, even so be it. May mycourse be bright, if it be but brief!"
"Alas! noble King," said the solitary, and it seemed as if a tear(unwonted guest) were gathering in his dry and glazened eye, "short andmelancholy, marked with mortification, and calamity, and captivity, isthe span that divides thee from the grave which yawns for thee--a gravein which thou shalt be laid without lineage to succeed thee--withoutthe tears of a people, exhausted by thy ceaseless wars, to lamentthee--without having extended the knowledge of thy subjects--withouthaving done aught to enlarge their happiness."
"But not without renown, monk--not without the tears of the lady of mylove! These consolations, which thou canst neither know nor estimate,await upon Richard to his grave."
"DO I not know, CAN I not estimate the value of minstrel's praise and oflady's love?" retorted the hermit, in a tone which for a moment seemedto emulate the enthusiasm of Richard himself. "King of England," hecontinued, extending his emaciated arm, "the blood which boils in thyblue veins is not more noble than that which stagnates in mine. Fewand cold as the drops are, they still are of the blood of the royalLusignan--of the heroic and sainted Godfrey. I am--that is, I was whenin the world--Alberick Mortemar--"
"Whose deeds," said Richard, "have so often filled Fame's trumpet! Is itso?--can it be so? Could such a light as thine fall from the horizon ofchivalry, and yet men be uncertain where its embers had alighted?"
"Seek a fallen star," said the hermit, "and thou shalt only light onsome foul jelly, which, in shooting through the horizon, has assumed fora moment an appearance of splendour. Richard, if I thought that rendingthe bloody veil from my horrible fate could make thy proud heart stoopto the discipline of the church, I could find in my heart to tell theea tale, which I have hitherto kept gnawing at my vitals in concealment,like the self-devoted youth of heathenesse. Listen, then, Richard, andmay the grief and despair which cannot avail this wretched remnant ofwhat was once a man be powerful as an example to so noble, yet so wild,a being as thou art! Yes--I will--I WILL tear open the long-hiddenwounds, although in thy very presence they should bleed to death!"
King Richard, upon whom the history of Alberick of Mortemar had madea deep impression in his early years, when minstrels were regaling hisfather's halls with legends of the Holy Land, listened with respectto the outlines of a tale, which, darkly and imperfectly sketched,indicated sufficiently the cause of the partial insanity of thissingular and most unhappy being.
"I need not," he said, "tell thee that I was noble in birth, high infortune, strong in arms, wise in counsel. All these I was. But whilethe noblest ladies in Palestine strove which should wind garlands for myhelmet, my love was fixed--unalterably and devotedly fixed--on a maidenof low degree. Her father, an ancient soldier of the Cross, saw ourpassion, and knowing the difference betwixt us, saw no other refugefor his daughter's honour than to place her within the shadow of thecloister. I returned from a distant expedition, lo
aded with spoils andhonour, to find my happiness was destroyed for ever! I too sought thecloister; and Satan, who had marked me for his own, breathed into myheart a vapour of spiritual pride, which could only have had its sourcein his own infernal regions. I had risen as high in the church asbefore in the state. I was, forsooth, the wise, the self-sufficient,the impeccable!--I was the counsellor of councils--I was the directorof prelates. How should I stumble?--wherefore should I fear temptation?Alas! I became confessor to a sisterhood, and amongst that sisterhoodI found the long-loved--the long-lost. Spare me further confession!--Afallen nun, whose guilt was avenged by self-murder, sleeps soundly inthe vaults of Engaddi; while, above her very grave, gibbers, moans, androars a creature to whom but so much reason is left as may suffice torender him completely sensible to his fate!"
"Unhappy man!" said Richard, "I wonder no longer at thy misery. Howdidst thou escape the doom which the canons denounce against thyoffence?"
"Ask one who is yet in the gall of worldly bitterness," said the hermit,"and he will speak of a life spared for personal respects, and fromconsideration to high birth. But, Richard, I tell thee that Providencehath preserved me to lift me on high as a light and beacon, whose ashes,when this earthly fuel is burnt out, must yet be flung into Tophet.Withered and shrunk as this poor form is, it is yet animated with twospirits--one active, shrewd, and piercing, to advocate the cause ofthe Church of Jerusalem; one mean, abject, and despairing, fluctuatingbetween madness and misery, to mourn over my own wretchedness, and toguard holy relics on which it would be most sinful for me even to castmy eye. Pity me not!--it is but sin to pity the loss of such an abject;pity me not, but profit by my example. Thou standest on the highest,and, therefore, on the most dangerous pinnacle occupied by any Christianprince. Thou art proud of heart, loose of life, bloody of hand. Put fromthee the sins which are to thee as daughters--though they be dear to thesinful Adam, expel these adopted furies from thy breast--thy pride, thyluxury, thy bloodthirstiness."
"He raves," said Richard, turning from the solitary to De Vaux, as onewho felt some pain from a sarcasm which yet he could not resent; thenturned him calmly, and somewhat scornfully, to the anchoret, as hereplied, "Thou hast found a fair bevy of daughters, reverend father, toone who hath been but few months married; but since I must put themfrom my roof, it were but like a father to provide them with suitablematches. Therefore, I will part with my pride to the noble canons of thechurch--my luxury, as thou callest it, to the monks of the rule--and mybloodthirstiness to the Knights of the Temple."
"O heart of steel, and hand of iron," said the anchoret, "upon whomexample, as well as advice, is alike thrown away! Yet shalt thou bespared for a season, in case it so be thou shouldst turn, and do thatwhich is acceptable in the sight of Heaven. For me I must return to myplace. Kyrie Eleison! I am he through whom the rays of heavenly gracedart like those of the sun through a burning-glass, concentrating themon other objects, until they kindle and blaze, while the glass itselfremains cold and uninfluenced. Kyrie Eleison!--the poor must be called,for the rich have refused the banquet--Kyrie Eleison!"
So saying, he burst from the tent, uttering loud cries.
"A mad priest!" said Richard, from whose mind the frantic exclamationsof the hermit had partly obliterated the impression produced by thedetail of his personal history and misfortunes. "After him, De Vaux, andsee he comes to no harm; for, Crusaders as we are, a juggler hath morereverence amongst our varlets than a priest or a saint, and they may,perchance, put some scorn upon him."
The knight obeyed, and Richard presently gave way to the thoughts whichthe wild prophecy of the monk had inspired. "To die early--withoutlineage--without lamentation! A heavy sentence, and well that it is notpassed by a more competent judge. Yet the Saracens, who are accomplishedin mystical knowledge, will often maintain that He, in whose eyes thewisdom of the sage is but as folly, inspires wisdom and prophecy intothe seeming folly of the madman. Yonder hermit is said to read thestars, too, an art generally practised in these lands, where theheavenly host was of yore the object of idolatry. I would I had askedhim touching the loss of my banner; for not the blessed Tishbite, thefounder of his order, could seem more wildly rapt out of himself, orspeak with a tongue more resembling that of a prophet.--How now, DeVaux, what news of the mad priest?"
"Mad priest, call you him, my lord?" answered De Vaux. "Methinkshe resembles more the blessed Baptist himself, just issued from thewilderness. He has placed himself on one of the military engines, andfrom thence he preaches to the soldiers as never man preached since thetime of Peter the Hermit. The camp, alarmed by his cries, crowd aroundhim in thousands; and breaking off every now and then from the mainthread of his discourse, he addresses the several nations, each in theirown language, and presses upon each the arguments best qualified to urgethem to perseverance in the delivery of Palestine."
"By this light, a noble hermit!" said King Richard. "But what else couldcome from the blood of Godfrey? HE despair of safety, because he hathin former days lived PAR AMOURS? I will have the Pope send him an ampleremission, and I would not less willingly be intercessor had his BELLEAMIE been an abbess."
As he spoke, the Archbishop of Tyre craved audience, for the purpose ofrequesting Richard's attendance, should his health permit, on a secretconclave of the chiefs of the Crusade, and to explain to him themilitary and political incidents which had occurred during his illness.