The Life And Death Of Richard Yea And Nay Volume 91 by Maurice Hewlett (best books to read all time TXT) 📖
- Author: Maurice Hewlett
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Tribune Where Jehane Sat Blushing. 'Take Him Into Your Favour, Lady Bel
Vezer,' He Said To Her. 'Whatever His Heart May Be, He Hath A Golden
Tongue.' Jehane, Stooping, Lent Him Her Cheek, And Bertran Fairly Kissed
Her Whom He Had Sought To Undo. Then Turning, Fired With Her Favour, He
Let His Shrill Voice Go Spiring To Heaven In Her Praise.
For These Feats Bertran Was Appointed To Her Household, As I Have Said.
He Made No Secret Of His Love For Her, But Sang Of Her Night And Day,
And Delighted Richard's Generous Heart. But Indeed Jehane Won The Favour
Of Most. If She Was Not So Beautiful As Saill, She Was More Courteous,
If Not So Pious As Elis, More The Woman For That. There Were Many,
Misled By Her Petulant Lips And Watchful Eyes, To Call Her Sulky: These
Did Not Judge Her Silence Favourably. They Thought Her Cold, And So She
Was To All But One; Their Eyes Might Have Told Them What She Was To Him,
And How When They Met In Love, To Kiss Or Cling, Their Two Souls Burned
Together. And If She Made A Sweet Lover, She Promised To Be A Rare
Countess. Her Judgment Was Never At Fault; She Was Noble, And Her Sedate
Gravity Showed Her To Be So. She Was No Talker, And Had Great Command
Over Herself; But She Was More Pale Than By Ordinary, And Her Eyes Were
Burning Bright. The Truth Was, She Was In A Fever Of Apprehension,
Restless, Doomed, Miserable; Devouringly In Love, Yet Dreading To Be
Loved. So, More And More Evidently In Pain, She Walked Her Part Through
The Blare Of Festival As Pentecost Drew Nigh.
'Upon That Day,' To Quote The Mellifluous Abbot, 'Upon That Day When In
Leaping Tongues The Spirit Of God Sat Upon The Heads Of The Holy
Apostles, And Gave Letters To The Unlettered And To The Speechless Its
Own Nature, Count Richard Wedded Dame Jehane, And Afterwards Crowned Her
Countess With His Own Hands.
'They Put Her, Crying Bitterly, Into The Count's Bed In The Castle Of
Poictiers On The Evening Of The Same Feast. Weeping Also, But At A Later
Day, I Saw Her Crowned Again At Angers With The Count's Cap Of Anjou. So
To Right Her And Himself Count Richard Did Both The Greatest Wrong Of
All.'
Much More Pageantry Followed The Marriage. I Admire Milo's Account. 'He
Held A Tournament After This, When The Count And The Party Of The Castle
Maintained The Field Against All Corners. There Was Great Jousting For
Six Days, I Assure You; For I Saw The Whole Of It. No English Knights
Were There, Nor Any From Anjou; But A Few French (Without King Philip's
Goodwill), Many Gascons And Men Of Toulouse And The Limousin; Some From
Over The Mountains, From Navarre, And Santiago, And Castile; There Also
Came The Count Of Champagne With His Friends. King Sancho Of Navarre Was
Excessively Friendly, With A Gift Of Six White Stallions, All Housed,
For Dame Jehane; Nobody Knew Why Or Wherefore At The Time, Except
Bertran De Born (O Thief Unrepentant!).
'Countess Jehane, With Her Ladies, Being Set In A Great Balcony Of Red
And White Roses, Herself All In Rose-Coloured Silk With A Chaplet Of
Volume 91 Book 1 (The Book Of Yea) Chapter 11 (Of Prophecy And Jehane In The Perilous Bed) Pg 63Purple Flowers, The First Day Came Count Richard In Green Armour And A
Surcoat Of The Same Embroidered With A Naked Man, A Branch Of Yellow
Broom In His Helm. None Held Up Against Him That Day; The Duke Of
Burgundy Fell And Brake His Collar-Bone. The Second Day He Drove Into
The Mêlée Suddenly, When There Was A Great Press Of Spears, All In Red
With A Flaming Sun On His Breast. He Sat A Blood-Horse Of Spain, Bright
Chestnut Colour And Housed In Red. Then, I Tell You, We Saw Horses And
Men Sunder Their Loves. The Third Day Pedro De Vaqueiras, A Knight From
Santiago, Encountered Him In His Silver Armour, When He Rode A Horse
White As The Holy Ghost. By A Chance Blow The Spaniard Bore Him Back On
To The Crupper. There Was A Great Shout, "The Count Is Down! Look To The
Castle, Poictou!" Dame Jehane Turned Colour Of Ash, For She Remembered
The Leper's Prophecy, And Knew That De Vaqueiras Loved Her. But Richard
Recovered Himself Quickly, Crying, "Have At You Again, Don Pedro." So
They Brought Fresh Spears, And Down Went De Vaqueiras On His Back, His
Horse Upon Him. To Be Plain, Not Hector Raging Over The Field With
Shouts For Achilles, Nor Flamboyant Achilles Spying After Hector, Nor
Hannibal At Cannae, Roland In The Woody Pass Of Roncesvalles, Nor The
Admired Lancelot, Nor Tristram Dreadful In The Cornish Isle--Not One Of
These Heroes Was More Gloriously Mighty Than Count Richard. Like The
War-Horse Of Job (The Prophet And Afflicted Man) He Stamped With His
Foot And Said Among The Captains "Ha Ha!" His Nostrils Scented The
Battle From Very Far Off; He Set On Like The Quarrell Of A Bow, And
Gathering Force As He Went, Came Rocking Into His Adversary Like Galley
Against Galley. With All This He Was Gentle, Had A Pleasant Laugh. It
Was Good To Be Struck Down By Such A Man, If It Ever Can Be Good. He
Bore Away Opposition As He Bore Away The Knights.'
If One Half Of This Were True, And No Man In Steel Could Withstand Him,
How Could Circumstance, How Could She, This Slim And Frightened Girl?
Mad Indeed With Love And Pride, Quite Beside Herself, She Forgot For
Once Her Tremors And Qualms. On The Last Day She Fell Panting Upon His
Breast; And He, A Great Lover, Kissed Her Before Them All, And Lifted
Her High In His Hands. 'Oyez, My Lords!' He Cried With A Mighty Voice,
'Is This A Lovely Wife I Have Won, Or Not?' They Answered Him With A
Shout.
He Took Her A Progress About His Country Afterwards. From Poictiers They
Went To Limoges, Thence Westward To Angoulesme, And South To Périgueux,
To Bazas, To Cahors, Agen, Even To Dax, Which Is Close To The Country Of
The King Of Navarre. Wherever He Led Her She Was Hailed With Joy. Young
Girls Met Her With Flowers In Their Hands, Wise Men Came Kneeling,
Offering The Keys Of Their Towns; The Youth Sang Songs Below Her
Balcony, The Matrons Made Much Of Her And Asked Her Searching Questions.
They Saw In Her A Very Superb And Handsome Duchess, Jehane Of The Fair
Girdle, Now Acclaimed In The Soft Syllables Of Aquitaine As Bel Vezer.
When They Were At Dax The Wise King Of Navarre Sent Ambassadors
Beseeching From Them A Visit To His City Of Pampluna; But Richard Would
Not Go. Then They Came Back To Poictiers And Shocking News. This Was Of
The Death Of King Henry Of England, The Old Lion, 'Dead (Milo Is Bold To
Say) In His Sin.'
Volume 91 Book 1 (The Book Of Yea) Chapter 12 (How They Bayed The Old Lion) Pg 64I Must Report What Happened To The King Of England When (Like A Falcon
Foiled In His Stoop) He Found Himself Outpaced And Outgeneralled On The
Moor. Shaken Off By Those He Sought To Entrap, Baited By The Badger He
Hoped To Draw, He Took On Something Not To Be Shaken Off, Namely Death,
And Had Drawn From Him What He Would Ill Spare, Namely The Breath Of His
Nostrils. To Have Done With All This Eloquence, He Caught A Chill,
Which, Working On A Body Shattered By Rages And Bad Living, Smouldered
In Him--A Slow-Eating Fever Which Bit Him To The Bones, Charred And
Shrivelled Him Up. In The Clutches Of This Crawling Disease He Joined
His Forces With Those Of His Marshal, And Marched To The Relief Of Le
Mans, Where The French King Was Taking His Ease. Philip Fired The Place
When He Heard Of His Approach; So Henry Got Near Enough To See The Sky
Throbbing With Red Light, And Over All A Cloud Of Smoke Blacker Than His
Own Despair. It Is Said That He Had A Fit Of Hard Sobbing When He Saw
This Dreadful Sight. He Would Not Suffer The Host To Approach The
Burning City, But Took To His Bed, Turned His Face To The Tent-Wall, And
Refused Alike Housel And Meat. News, And Of The Worst, Came Fast. The
French Were At Châteaudun, The Countess Of Brittany's Men Were
Threatening Anjou From The North; All Touraine With Saumur And A Chain
Of Border Castles Were Subject To Richard His Son. These Things He Heard
Without Moving From His Bed Or Opening His Eyes.
After A Week Of This Misery Two Of His Lords, The Marshal, Namely, And
Bishop Hugh Of Durham, Came To His Bedside And Told Him, 'Sire, Here Are
Come Ambassadors From France Speaking Of A Peace. How Shall It Be?'
'As You Will,' Said The King; 'Only Let Me Sleep.' He Spoke Drowsily, As
If Not Really Awake, But It Is Thought That He Was More Watchful Than He
Chose To Appear.
They Held A Hasty Conference, Geoffrey His Bastard, The Marshal, The
Bishop: These And The French Ambassadors. On The King's Part They Made
But One Request; And Geoffrey Made That. The King Was Dying: Let Him Be
Taken Down To His Castle Of Chinon, Not Die In The Fields Like An Old
Hunting Dog. This Was Allowed. He Took No Sort Of Notice, Let Them Do
What They Would With Him, Slept Incessantly All The Way To Chinon.
They Brought Him The Parchments, Sealed With His Great Seal; And He,
Quite Broken, Set His Hand To Them Without So Much As A Curse On The
Robbery Done His Kingdom. But As The Bearers Were Going Out On Tiptoe He
Suddenly Sat Up In Bed. 'Hugh,' He Grumbled, 'Bishop Hugh, Come Thou
Here.' The Bishop Turned Back Eagerly, For Those Two Had Loved Each
Other In Their Way, And Knelt By His Bed.
'Read Me The Signatures To These Damned Things,' Said The King; And
Hugh Rejoiced That He Was Better, Yet Feared To Make Him Worse.
'Ah, Dear Sire,' He Began To Say; But 'Read, Man,' Said The Old King,
Jerking His Foot Under The Bedclothes. So Hugh The Bishop Began To Read
Them Over, And The Sick Man Listened With A Shaky Head, For By Now The
Fever Was Running High.
'Philip The August, King Of The Franks,' Says The Bishop; And 'A Dog's
Name,' The Old King Muttered In His Throat. 'Sanchez, Catholic King Of
Navarre,' Says Hugh; And 'Name Of An Owl,' King Henry. To The Same
Ground-Bass He Treated The Themes Of The Illustrious Duke Of Burgundy,
Henry Count Of Champagne, And Others Of The French Party. With These The
Bishop Would Have Stopped, But The King Would Have The Whole. 'Nay,
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