Under the Rose

  CHAPTER XII

  THE DUKE ENTERS THE LISTS

  In that first "joyous and gentle passage of arms," wherein the weaponswere those "of courtesy," their points covered with small disks,several knights broke their lances fairly, two horsemen of the sidewearing red plumes became unseated, and their opponents, designated asthe "white plumes," swept on intact.

  "Well done!" commented the king from his high tribunal, as the squiresand attendants began to clear the lists, assisting the fallenbelligerents to their tents. "We shall have another such memorablefield as that of Ashby-de-la-Zouch!"

  The following just, reduced to six combatants, three of the red plumesand three of the white, was even yet more spirited than the first tilt,for the former trio couched their lances with the determination toretrieve the day for their party. In this encounter two of the whiteswere unhorsed, thus placing the contention once more on an equal basis,while in the third conflict the whites again suffered similar disaster,and but one remained to redeem his party's lapse from an advantagegained in the opening combat.

  All eyes were now fastened upon this single remnant of the whitefellowship in arms, who, to wrest victory from defeat, became obligedto overcome each in turn of the trio of reds, a formidable task for onewho had already been successful in three stubborn matches. It was ahero-making opportunity, but, alas! for the last of the little whitecompany. Like many another, he made a brave dash for honor and the"bubble reputation"; the former slipped tantalizingly from his grasp,and the latter burst and all its pretty colors dissolved in thin air.Now he lay still on the sands and the king only remarked:

  "Certes, he possessed courage."

  And the words sounded like an epitaph, a not inglorious one, althoughthe hand that gripped the lance had failed. The defeated champion wasremoved; the opportunity had passed; the multitude stoically acceptedthe lame and impotent conclusion, and the tournament proceeded.

  Event followed event, and those court ladies who at first had professedtheir nerves were weaker than their foremothers' now watched the arenawith sparkling eyes, no longer turning away at the thrilling moment ofcontact. Taking their cue from the king, they were lavish in praiseand generous in approval, and at an unusual exhibition of skill thestand grew bright with waving scarfs and handkerchiefs. Simultaneouswith such an animated demonstration from the galleries would come aroar of approval from the peasantry below, crowded where best theycould find places, bespeaking for their part, likewise, an increasinglust for the stirring pastime.

  In truth, the only dissatisfied onlookers were the quick-fingeredspoilers and rovers who, packed as close as dried dates in a basket bythe irresistible forward press of the people, found themselves suddenlyoccupationless, without power to move their arms, or ply their hands.Thus held in a mighty compress, temporary prisoners with their spoilsin their pockets, and cheap jewelry shining enticingly all about them,they were obliged for the time to comport themselves like honestcitizens. But, although their bodies were in durance vile, their eyescould roam covetously to a showy trinket on the broad bosom of somebuxom good-wife, or a gewgaw that hung from the neck of a red-cheekedlass.

  "Ha!" muttered the scamp-student to his good spouse, "here are all thejolly boys immersed to their necks, like prisoners buried in the sandby the Arabs."

  "Hush!" she whispered, warningly. "See you yonder--the duke's fool; hewears the arms of Charles, the emperor."

  "And there's the Duke of Friedwald himself," answered the raggedscholar. "Look! the jesters are going to fight. They have arrangedthem in two parties. Half of them go with the duke and his knights;the other half with his Lordship's opponents."

  "But the duke's fool, by chance, is set against his master," shemumbled, significantly.

  "Call you it chance?" he said in a low voice, and Nanette nudged himangrily in the side with her elbow, so that he cried out, and attentionwould have been called to them but for a ripple of laughter whichstarted on the edge of the crowd and was taken up by the serried ranks.

  "Ho! ho! Look at Triboulet!" shouted the delighted populace. "Ah, thedroll fellow!"

  All eyes were now bent to the arena, where, on a powerful nag, satperched the misshapen jester. With whip and spur he was vehementlyplying a horse that stubbornly stood as motionless as carven stone.Thinking at the last moment of a plan for escape from the dangerousfeatures of the tourney, the hunchback had bribed one of the attendantsto fetch him a steed which for sullen obduracy surpassed any charger inthe king's stables. Fate, he was called, because nothing could move orchange him, and now, with head pushed forward and ears thrust back, heproved himself beneath the blows and spurring of the seemingly excitedrider, worthy of this appellation.

  "Go on, Fate; go on!" exclaimed the apparently angry dwarf. "Will yoube balky now, when Triboulet has glory within his grasp? Miserablebeast! unhappy fate! When bright eyes are watching the greatTriboulet!"

  If not destined to score success with his lance, the dwarf at least hadwon a victory through his comical situation and ready wit. Fair ladiesforgot his ugliness; the pages his ill-humor; the courtiers hisvindictive slyness; the monarch the disappointment of his failure toworst the duke's fool, and all applauded the ludicrous figure,shouting, waving his arms, struggling with inexorable destiny.Finally, in despair, his hands fell to his side.

  "Oh, resistless necessity!" he cried. But in his heart he said: "It iswell. I am as safe as on a wooden horse. Here I stand. Let othershave their heads split or their bodies broken. Triboulet, like thegods, views the carnage from afar."

  While this bit of unexpected comedy riveted the attention of thespectators the duke and his followers had slowly ridden to their sideof the inclosure. Here hovered the squires, adjusting a stirrup,giving a last turn to a strap, or testing a bridle or girth. Behindstood the heralds, trumpeters and pursuivants in their bright garb ofoffice. At his own solicitation had the duke been assigned an activepart in the day's entertainment. The king, fearing for the safety ofhis guest and the possible postponement of the marriage should anyinjury befall him, had sought to dissuade him from his purpose, but theother had laughed boisterously at the monarch's fears and sworn hewould break a lance for his lady love that day. Francis, too gallant aknight himself to interpose further objection to an announcement so inkeeping with the traditions of the lists, thereupon had ordered thebest charger in his stables to be placed at the disposal of theprincess' betrothed, and again nodded his approbation upon theappearance of the duke in the ring. But at least one person in thatvast assemblage was far from sharing the monarch's complaisant mood.

  If the mind of the duke's fool had heretofore been filled withbitterness upon witnessing festal honors to a mere presumptuous freebaron, what now were his emotions at the reception accorded him? Fromking to churl was he a gallant noble; he, a swaggerer, ill-born, aterrorist of mountain passes. Even as the irony of the demonstrationswept over the jester, from above fell a flower, white as the box fromwhence it was wafted. Downward it fluttered, a messenger of amity,like a dove to his gauntlet. And with the favor went a smile from theLady of the Lists. But while _Bon Vouloir_ stood there, the symbol inhis hand and the applause ringing in his ears, into the tenor of histhoughts, the consciousness of partly gratified ambition, there creptan insinuating warning of danger.

  "My Lord," said the trooper with the red mustache, riding by the sideof his master, "the fool is plotting further mischief."

  "What mean you?" asked the free baron, frowning, as he turned towardhis side of the field.

  "Go slowly, my Lord, and I will tell you. I saw the fool and anotherjester with their heads together," continued the trooper in a low tone."They were standing in front of the jesters' tent. You bade me watchhim. So I entered their pavilion at the back. Making pretext to belooking for a gusset for an armor joint, I made my way near theentrance. There, bending over barbet pieces, I overheard fragments oftheir conversation. It even bore on your designs."

  "A conversation on my designs! He has th
en dared--"

  "All, my Lord. A scheming knave! After I had heard enough, I gatheredup a skirt of tassets--"

  "What did you hear?" said the other, impatiently.

  "A plan by which he hoped to let the emperor know--"

  A loud flourish of trumpets near them interrupted the free baron'sinformer, and when the clarion tones had ceased it was the master whospoke. "There's time but for a word now. Come to my tent afterward.Meanwhile," he went on, hurriedly, "direct a lance at the fool--"

  "But, my Lord," expostulated the man, quickly, "the jesters only are tooppose one another."

  "It will pass for an accident. Francis likes him not, and will clearyou of unknightly conduct, if--" He finished with a boldly significantlook, which was not lost upon his man.

  "Even if the leaden disk should fall from my lance and leave the pointbare?" said the trooper, hoarsely.

  "Even that!" responded the free baron, hastily.

  "_Laissez-aller!_" cried the marshals, giving the signal to begin.

  Above, in her white box, the princess turned pale. With bated breathand parted lips, she watched the lines sweep forward, and, like twogreat waves meeting, collide with a crash. The dust that arose seemedan all-enshrouding mist. Beneath it the figures appeared, vague,undefined, in a maze of uncertainty.

  "Oh!" exclaimed Louise, striving to penetrate the cloud; "he isvictorious!"

  "They have killed him!" said Jacqueline, at the same time staringtoward another part of the field.

  "Killed him!--what--" began the princess, now rosy with excitement.

  "No; he has won," added the maid, in the next breath, as a portion ofthe obscuring mantle was swept aside.

  "Of course! Where are your eyes?" rejoined her mistress triumphantly."The duke, is one of the emperor's greatest knights."

  "In this case, Madam, it is but natural your sight should be betterthan my own," half-mockingly returned the maid.

  And, in truth, the princess was right, for the king's guest, throughoverwhelming strength and greater momentum, had lightly plucked fromhis seat a stalwart adversary. Others of his following failed not inthe "attaint," and horses and troopers floundered in the sand. Apartfrom the duke's victory, two especial incidents, one comic, stood outin the confused picture.

  That which partook of the humorous aspect, and was seen and appreciatedby all, had for its central figure an unwilling actor, the king'shunchback. Like the famous steed builded by the Greeks, Triboulet's"wooden horse" contained unknown elements of danger, and even while thejester was congratulating himself upon absolute immunity from peril thenag started and quivered. At the flourish of the brass instruments hisears, that had lain back, were now pricked forward; he had once, in hispalmy, coltish time, been a battle charger, and, perhaps, some memoryof those martial days, the waving of plumes and the clashing of arms,reawoke his combative spirit of old. Or, possibly his bruteintelligence penetrated the dwarf's knavish pusillanimity, and,changing his tactics that he might still range on the side ofperversity, resolved himself from immobility into a rampant agency ofmotion. Furiously he dashed into the thick of the conflict, andTriboulet, paralyzed with fear and dropping his lance, was bornehelplessly onward, execrating the nag and his capricious humor.

  Opposed to the hunchback rode Villot, who, upon reaching the dwarf andobserving his predicament, good-naturedly turned aside his point, butwas unable to avoid striking him with the handle as he rode by. ToTriboulet that blow, reechoing in the hollow depths of his steel shell,sounded like the dissolution of the universe, and, not doubting hislast moment had come, mechanically he fell to earth, abandoning to itsown resources the equine Fate that had served him so ill. Striking theground, and, still finding consciousness had not deserted him, instinctprompted him to demonstrate that if his armor was too heavy for him torun away in, as the smithy-_valet de chambre_ had significantlyaffirmed, yet he possessed the undoubted strength and ability to crawl.Thus, amid the guffaws of the peasantry and the smiles of the nobles,he swiftly scampered from beneath the horses' feet, hurriedly left thescene of strife, and finally reached triumphantly the haven of his tent.

  The other incident, witnessed by Jacqueline, was of a more seriousnature. As the lines swept together, with the dust rising before, sheperceived that the duke's trooper had swerved from his course and wasbearing down upon the duke's fool.

  "Oh," she whispered to herself, "the master now retaliates on thejester." And held her breath.

  Had he, too, observed these sudden perfidious tactics? Apparently.Yet he seemed not to shun the issue.

  "Why does he not turn aside?" thought the maid. "He might yet do it.A fool and a knight, forsooth!"

  But the fool pricked his horse deeply; it sprang to the struggle madly;crash! like a thunderbolt, steed and rider leaped upon the trooper.Then it was Jacqueline had murmured: "They have killed him!" notdoubting for a moment but that he had sped to destruction.

  A second swift glance, and through the veil, less obscure, she saw thejester riding, unharmed, his lance unbroken. Had he escaped, afterall? And the trooper? He lay among the trampling horses' feet. Shesaw him now. How had it all come about? Her mind was bewildered, butin spite of the princess' assertion to the contrary, her sight seemedunusually clear.

  "Good lance, fool!" cried a voice from the king's box.

  "The jester rides well," said another. "The knight's lance even passedover his head, while the fool's struck fairly with terrific force."

  "But why did he select the jester as an adversary?" continued the firstspeaker.

  "Mistakes will happen in the confusion of a _melee_--and he has paidfor his error," was the answer. And Jacqueline knew that none would beheld accountable for the treacherous assault.

  Now the fool had dismounted and she observed that he was bending overanother jester who had been unhorsed. "Why," she murmured to herselfin surprise, "Caillette! As good a soldier as a fool. Who among thejesters could have unseated him?"

  But her wonderment would have increased, could she have overheard theconversation between the duke's fool and Caillette, as the formerlifted the other from the sands and assisted him to walk, or ratherlimp, to the jesters' pavilion.

  "Did I not tell you to beware of the false duke?" muttered Caillette,not omitting a parenthesis of deceptive groans.

  "Ah, if it had only been he, instead," began the fool.

  "Why," interrupted the seemingly injured man, "think you to stand upagainst the boar of Hochfels?"

  "I would I might try!" said the other quickly.

  "Your success with the trooper has turned your head," laughedCaillette, softly. "One last word. Look to yourself and fear not forme. Mine injuries--which I surmise are internal as they are notvisible--will excuse me for the day. Nor shall I tarry at the palacefor the physician, but go straight on without bolus, simples or pills,a very Mercury for speed. Danger will I eschew and a pretty maid shallhold me no longer than it takes to give her a kiss in passing. Hereleave me at the tent. Turn back to the field, or they will suspect.Trust no one, and--you'll mind it not in a friend, one who would serveyou to the end?--forget the princess! Serve her, save her, as youwill, but, remember, women are but creatures of the moment. Adieu,_mon ami_!"

  And Caillette turned as one in grievous physical pain to an attendant,bidding him speedily remove the armor, while the duke's fool, moredeeply stirred than he cared to show, moved again to the lists.