Agincourt (Historical Novel). G. P. R. James

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СКАЧАТЬ him back one of these days, after he has served you in Burgundy. You will find he has faults as well as virtues; so have an eye to correct them. But even now, as the country folk say, I have a mind to borrow my own horse. I want his services for three days, if you will lend him to me--You are not yet ready to set out?"

      "Not yet, Sire," replied Woodville; "but, in one week more, I hope to be on the sea."

      "Well, then, send the man up to me, and he shall rejoin you in four days," answered Henry; "but let me see you tomorrow, my good friend, before you go home, for I would fain talk farther with you. It is seldom that a King can meet one with whom he can speak his thoughts plainly; and I find already a difference that makes me sad. Command and obedience, arguments of state and policy, flattering acquiescence in my opinion, whether right or wrong, praise, broad and coarse, or neat and half concealed,--of these I can have plenty, and to surfeit; but a friend, into whose bosom one can pour forth one's ideas without restraint, whether they be sad or gay, is a rare thing in a court. So, for the present, fare-you-well, Richard. You will stay here for the banquet in the Hall, of course; and let me see you to-morrow morning, towards the hour of eight."

      Richard of Woodville, as he well might, felt deeply gratified at the confidence which the King's words implied, and he answered, "I will not fail, Sire, to attend you at that hour, with more gratitude for your good opinion than any other favour. At the banquet, I will try to find a place, and will send Ned Dyram to you. Will you receive him now?"

      "Yes, at once," replied the King; "for, good faith! these lords and bishops who are waiting for me, will think me long. I will order you a place below; but, mark me, Richard--if you meet Simeon of Roydon, seek no quarrel with him; and lay my commands upon Sir Henry Dacre, that he do not, on any pretence, again call him to the lists, without my knowledge and consent. As to Ned Dyram, he shall rejoin you soon. There is no way in which he may not be useful to you; for there is scarce an earthly chance for which his ready wit is not prepared. I met him first, studying alchemy with a poor wretch who, in pursuit of science, had blown all his wealth up the chimney of his furnace, and could no longer keep this boy. I found him next in an armourer's shop, hammering at hard iron, and thence I took him. He has a thousand qualities, some bad, some good. I think him honest; but his tongue is somewhat too free; and that which the wild Prince might laugh at, might not chime with the dignity of the crown. He will learn better in your train; but at the present I have an errand for him--so send him to me quickly."

      Richard of Woodville bowed and withdrew; and, finding his way down to the Hall, he called Ned Dyram,--who was in full activity, aiding the royal officers to set out the tables,--and told him to go directly to the King. The man laughed, and ran off to fulfil the command: and about three quarters of an hour elapsed before the monarch appeared in the hall, which by that time was nearly filled with guests, invited to the banquet. He was followed by the train of high nobles and churchmen, whom Woodville had seen waiting in a chamber above; and the numerous tables, which were as many as that vast building could contain, were soon crowded.

      It would be dull to the reader, were I to give any account of a mere ordinary event, such as a royal feast of those days--were I to tell the number of oxen and sheep that were consumed--the capons, ducks, geese, swans, and peacocks, that appeared upon the board. Suffice it, that one of the royal servants placed Richard of Woodville according to his rank; that the banquet, with all its ceremonies, was somewhat long in passing, but that the young gentleman's comfort was not disturbed by the sight of Simeon of Roydon, who, if he were in the Hall, kept himself from Richard's eyes. The lower part of the chamber was filled with minstrels, musicians, and attendants; and music, as usual, accompanied the feast; but ever and anon, from the court before the palace and the neighbouring streets, were heard loud shouts, and laughter, and bursts of song, showing that the merriment and revelry of the multitude were still kept up, while the King and his nobles were feasting within.

      Thus, when the banquet was over, the monarch gone from the Hall, and Richard of Woodville, with the rest of the guests, issued forth into the court, he was not surprised to find a gay and joyous scene without, the whole streets and roads filled with people, and every one giving himself up to joy and diversion. The gates of the court were thrown open, the populace admitted to the very doors of the palace, and a crowd of several hundred persons assembled round a spot in the centre, where a huge pile of dry wood had been lighted for the august ceremony of roasting an ox whole, which was duly superintended by half a dozen white-capped cooks, with a whole army of scullions and turnspits. Butts of strong beer stood in various corners; and a fountain, of four streams, flowed with wine at the side next to the Abbey. In one spot, people were jostling and pushing each other to get at the ale or wine; in another, they were dancing gaily to the sound of a viol; and further on was a tumbler, twisting himself into every sort of strange attitude for the amusement of the spectators. Loud shouts and exclamations, peals of laughter, the sounds of a thousand different musical instruments playing as many different tunes, with voices singing, and others crying wares of several sorts, prepared for the celebration of the day, made a strange and not very melodious din; but there was an air of festivity and rejoicing, of fun and good humour, in the whole, that compensated for the noise and the crowd.

      Richard of Woodville had given orders for his horses to be taken to an inn at Charing, while waiting in the Hall before the banquet; and he now proceeded on foot, through the crowd in the palace courts, towards the gates. It was a matter of some difficulty to obtain egress; for twilight was now coming on, and the multitude were flocking from the sights which had been displayed in the more open road to Charing during the last two or three hours, to witness the roasting of the ox, and to obtain some of the slices which were to be distributed about the hour of nine.

      At length, however, he found himself in freer air; but still, every four or five yards, he came upon a gay group, either standing and talking to each other, or gathered round a show, or some singer or musician. It was one constant succession of faces; some young, some old, some pretty, some ugly, but all of them strange to Richard of Woodville. Nevertheless, more than once he met the same merry salutations which he had been treated to when on horseback; and, as he paused here and there, gazing at this or that gay party, he was twice asked to join in the dance, and still more frequently required to contribute to the payment of a poor minstrel with his pipe or cithern.

      The minstrels were not, indeed, in those days at least, a very elevated race of beings; their poetical powers, if they ever in this country possessed any, had entirely merged in the musical; and, though they occasionally did sing to their own instruments, or to those of others, the verses were generally either old ballads, or pieces of poetry composed by persons of a higher education than themselves.

      Nearly opposite the old dwelling of the kings of Scotland, Woodville's ear caught the tones of a very sweet voice singing; and, approaching the group of people that had gathered round, he saw an old man playing on an instrument somewhat like, but greatly inferior to a modern guitar, while a girl by his side, with fine features, and apparently--for the light was faint--a beautiful complexion, dressed in somewhat strange costume, was pouring forth her lay to the delighted ears of youths and maidens. She had nearly finished the song, when the young gentleman approached; and, in a moment or two after, she went round with a cap in her hand, asking the donations of the listeners.

      Woodville had been pleased, and he threw in some small silver coin, more than equal to all that the rest had given; and, resuming her place by the old man's side, she whispered a word in his ear, upon which he immediately struck his instrument again, and she began another ditty in honour, it would appear, of her generous auditor:--

       SONG.

      The bark is at the shore,

       The wind is in the sail,

       Fear not the tempest's roar,

       There's fortune in the gale;

       For the true heart and kind,

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