 Chapter 37 Part 1 of The Cloyster and the Hearth by Charles Reid The culprits were condemned to stand pinioned in the marketplace for two hours, that should any persons recognise them or any of them as guilty of other crimes, they might depose to that effect at the trial. They stood, however, the whole period, and no one advanced anything fresh against them. This was the less remarkable that they were nightbirds, vampires who preyed in the dark on weary travellers, mostly strangers. But just as they were being taken down, a fearful scream was heard in the crowd, and a woman pointed at one of them, with eyes almost starting from their sockets. But ere she could speak, she fainted away. Then men and women crowded round her, partly to aid her, partly from curiosity. When she began to recover, they fell to conjectures. Twas at him, she pointed. Nay, twas at this one. Nay, nay, said another, twas at yon hangdog, with the hair hung round his neck. All further conjectures were cut short. The poor creature no sooner recovered her senses than she flew at the landlord like a lioness. My child, man, man, give me back my child! When she seized the glossy golden hair that the officers had hung round his neck, and tore it from his neck, and covered it with kisses, then her poor confused mind clearing, she saw even by this token that her lost girl was dead, and sank suddenly down shrieking and sobbing so over the poor hair that the crowd rushed on the assassin with one savage growl. His life had ended then and speedily, for in those days all carried death at their girdles. But Denis drew his sword directly, and shouting, Amois camarade, kept the mob at bay, who lays a finger on him, dies. Other archers backed him, and with some difficulty they kept him uninjured, while Denis appealed to those who shouted for his blood. What sort of vengeance is this? Would you be so mad as to rob the wheel and give the vermin an easy death? The mob was kept passive by the archers' steel, rather than by Denis's words, and growled at intervals with flashing eyes. The municipal officers, seeing this, collected round, and with the archers made a guard, and prudently carried the accused back to jail. The mob hooted them and the prisoners indiscriminately. Denis saw the latter safely lodged, then made for the white heart, where he expected to find Gerard. On the way he saw two girls working at a first-floor window. He saluted them. They smiled. He entered into conversation. Their manners were easy, their complexion high. He invited them to a repast at the white heart. They objected. He acquiesced in their refusal. They consented, and in this charming society he forgot all about poor Gerard, who, meantime, was carried off to jail, but on the way he suddenly stopped, having now somewhat recovered his presence of mind, and demanded to know by whose authority he was arrested. "'By the Vice-Baileys,' said the constable, "'the Vice-Baileys? Alas! What have I a stranger done to offend a Vice-Baile? For this charge of sorcery must be a blind, no sorcerer am I but a poor, true lad, far from his home.' This vague shift disgusted the officer. "'Show him the capias, Jacques,' said he. Jacques held out the writ in both hands about a yard and a half from Gerard's eye, and at the same moment the large constable suddenly pinned him. Both officers were on tenterhooks, lest the prisoner should grab the document to which they attached a superstitious importance. But the poor prisoner had no such thought. Queery whether he would have touched it with the tongs! He just craned out his neck and read it, and to his infinite surprise found the Vice-Baileys who had signed the writ was the friendly alderman. He took courage and assured his captor there was some error, but finding he made no impression demanded to be taken before the alderman. "'What say you to that, Jacques?' "'Impossible. We have no orders to take him before his worship. Read the writ. "'Nay, but good fellows, what harm can it be? I will give you each an ecu.' "'Jacques, what say you to that?' "'Hmmm, I say we have no orders not to take him to his worship. Read the writ.' "'Then say we take him to prison round by his worship.' It was agreed. They got the money, and bad Gerard observed they were doing him a favour. He saw they wanted a little gratitude, as well as much silver. He tried to satisfy this cupidity, but it stuck in his throat. Feigning was not his forte.' He entered the alderman's presence with his heart in his mouth and begged, with faltering voice, to know what he had done to offend since he left that very room with Manon and Denis. "'Not that I know of,' said the alderman. On the writ being shown him, he told Gerard he had signed it at daybreak. I get old, and my memory faileth me. A discussing of the girl I quite forgot your own offence, but I remember now. All is well. You are he I committed for sorcery.' "'Stay, ere you go to jail, you shall hear what your accuser says. Run and fetch him, you.' The man could not find the accuser all at once. So the alderman, getting impatient, told Gerard the main charge was that he had set a dead body, a burning with diabolical fire, that it flamed but did not consume. And if tis true, young man, I am sorry for thee, for thou wilt assuredly burn with fire of good pine-logs in the marketplace of Neufchastu. "'Oh, sir, for pity's sake, let me have speech with his reverence the curé!' The alderman advised Gerard against it. The church was harder upon sorcerers than was the corporation. "'But, sir, I am innocent,' said Gerard, between snarling and whining. "'Oh, if you think you are innocent, officer, go with him to the curé, but see he escape you not. Innocent quotha!' They found the curé in his doublet, repairing a wheelbarrow.' Gerard told him all, and appealed piteously to him. "'Just for using a little phosphorus in self-defense against cutthroats they are going to hang!' It was lucky for our magician that he had already told his tail in full to the curé, for thus that shrewd personage had hold of the stick at the right end.' The corporation held it by the ferrule. His reverence looked exceedingly grave and said, "'I must question you privately on this untoward business.' He took him into a private room, and part the officer stand outside and guard the door, and be ready to come, if called. The big constable stood outside the door, quaking, and expecting to see the room fly away and leave a stink of brimstone. Eventually they were alone. The curé unlocked his countenance, and was himself again. "'Show me the trick, aunt,' said he, all curiosity. "'I cannot, sir, unless the room be darkened.' The curé speedily closed out the light with a wooden shutter. "'Now, then!' "'But on what shall I put it?' said Gerard. "'Here is no dead face!' "'Twas that made it look so dire!' The curé groped about the room. "'Good, here is an image. "'Tis my patron saint!' "'Heaven forbid, that were profanation. "'Sure! "'Twill rub off, wilt not?' "'Aye, but it goes against me to take such liberty with a saint!' objected the sorcerer. "'Fiddlestick!' said the divine. "'To be sure by putting it on his holiness will show your reverence, it is no satanic art.' "'Me hapt was for that I did propose it,' said the curé subtly.' Thus encouraged, Gerard fired the eyes and nostrils of the image, and made the curé jump. Then lighted up the hair in patches, and set the whole face shining like a glow-worms. "'Buy a lady!' shouted the curé. "'Tis strange, and small my wonder, "'that they took you for a magician seeing a dead face thus fired. "'Now come thy ways with me!' He put on his grey gown and great hat, and in a few minutes they found themselves in presence of the alderman. By his side, poisoning his mind, stood the accuser. A singular figure in red hose and red shoes, a black gown with blue bands, and a cocked hat. After saluting the alderman, the curé turned to this personage, and said good-humidly, "'So, Mangee, at thy work again, bubbling away honest men's lives?' "'Come, your worship, this is the old tale. Two of a trade can air agree. Here is Mangee, who professes sorcery, and would sell himself to Satan tonight, but that Satan is not so weakest to buy what he can have gratis, this Mangee, who would be a sorcerer, but is only a quack-salver, accusers of magic, a true lad, who did but use in self-defence a secret of chemistry well known to me and all churchmen. "'But he is no churchman to double in such mysteries?' objected the alderman. "'He is more churchman than layman, being convent bread and in the lesser orders,' said the reddy curé. "'Therefore, sorcerer, withdraw thy plaint without more words. "'That I will not, your reverence,' replied Mangee stoutly, "'a sorcerer I am, but a white one, not a black one. "'I make no pact with Satan, but on the contrary still battle him with lawful and necessary arts. "'I ne'er profane the sacraments as do the black sorcerers, "'nor turn myself into a cat and go, "'sucking infant's blood, nor in their breath, "'nor set dead men of fire. "'But I tell the peasants when their cattle and their hens "'are possessed, and at what time of the moon to plant rye, "'and what days in each month are lucky for wooing of women "'and selling of bullocks, and so forth. "'Above all, it is my art and my trade "'to detect the black magicians, "'as I did that whole tribe of them "'who were burnt at Dole but last year. "'I, Mangee, and what is the upshot "'of that famous fire thy tongue did kindle? "'Why, their ashes were cast to the wind. "'I, but the true end of thy comedy is this. "'The Parliament of Dijon had since sifted the matter, "'and found they were no sorcerers but good "'and peaceful citizens, and but last week "'did order masses to be said for their souls, "'and expiatory farces and mysteries to be played for them "'in seven towns of Burgundy, "'all which will not of those cinders "'make men and women again. "'Now, tis our custom in this land, "'when we have slain the innocent "'by harkening false knaves like thee, "'not to blame our credulous ears, "'but the false tongue that gull'd them. "'Therefore, be think thee that, "'at a word from me to my Lord Bishop, "'thou wilt smell burning pine nearer "'than air-nave smelt it and lived, "'and wilt travel on a smoky cloud "'to him whose heart thou bearest. "'For the word devil in the Latin "'it meaneth false accuser, "'and whose livery thou wearest. "'And the curé pointed it mangy with his staff. "'That is true, if eggs,' said the alderman, "'for red and black, be the foul Fendi's colours. "'By this time, the white sorceress cheek "'was as colourless as his dress was fiery. "'Indeed, the contrast amounted to pictorial. "'He stammered out, "'I respect holy church and her will. "'He shall fire the church out and all in it for me. "'I do withdraw the plaint. "'Then withdraw thyself,' said the vice-pailiff. "'The moment he was gone, "'the curé took the conversational tone "'and told the alderman courteously "'that the accused had received the chemical substance "'from holy church and had restored it her "'by giving it all to him. "'Then, tis in good hands,' was the reply. "'Young man, you are free. "'Let me have your reverence's prayers. "'Doubt it not. "'Ha! Vice-Bailey, the town owes me four silver francs "'these three months and more. "'They shall be paid, curé. "'I air the week be-out.' "'On this good understanding, church and state parted. "'As soon as he was in the street, "'Gerald caught the priest's hand and kissed it. "'Oh, sir, oh, your reverence, "'you have saved me from the fiery stake. "'What can I say? What do what?' "'Nought, foolish lad, bounty rewards itself. "'Notherless, I wish I hadn't done it without leasing. "'It ill becomes my function to utter falsehoods.' "'Falsehoods, sir?' Gerald was mystified. "'Didst not hear me say, thou hadst given me that same phosphorus? "'Twill cost me a fortnight's penance, that light word.' "'The curé sighed, and his eye twinkled cunningly. "'Nay, nay!' cried Gerald eagerly. "'Now, heaven forbid, that was no falsehood, father. "'Well, you knew the phosphorus was yours, is yours. "'And he thrust the bottle into the curé's hand. "'But, alas, it is too poor a gift. "'Will you not take from my purse, somewhat for holy church?' "'And now he held out his purse with glistening eyes. "'Nay!' said the other brusquely, "'and put his hands quickly behind him. "'Not a doit! Fie, fie! Art pauper et exel! "'Come, thou rather, each day of noon, and take thy diet with me, "'for my heart warms to thee.' "'And he went off very abruptly with his hands behind him. "'They itched. But they itched in vain. "'Where there's a heart, there's a rubicon.' "'Gerald went hastily to the inn "'to relieve Denis of the anxiety, "'so long and mysterious an absence must have caused him. "'He found him seated at his ease, "'playing dice with two young ladies, "'whose manners were unreserved and complexion high. "'Gerald was hurt. "'Noublé point la gêne-tant,' said he, colouring up. "'What of her?' said Denis, gaily rattling the dice. "'She said, Le peu que sont les femmes. "'Autez-je. "'And what say you to that, mes demoiselles?' "'We say that none run women down "'but such as are too old, or too ill-favoured, "'or too witless to please them.' "'Witless, quother! "'Wise men have not folly enough to please them, "'nor madness enough to desire to please them,' said "'Gerald loftily, but is to my comrade, I speak, "'not to you, you brazen toads, "'that make so free with a man at first sight.' "'Preach away, comrade, fling a by-word or two at our heads. "'No girls, that he is a very Solomon for by-words. "'Me thinks he was brought up by hand on him. "'Be thy friendship a by-word,' retorted Gerard, "'the friendship that melts to nought at sight of a farthingale.' "'Muller!' cried Denis. "'I speak but pellets, and thou answerest duggers!' "'Would I could,' was the reply. "'Adieu!' "'What a little savage!' said one of the girls.' Gerard opened the door and put in his head. "'I have thought of a by-word,' said he spitefully. "'Qui honte femme aidée, il moura en pauvreté.' "'There!' And having delivered this thunderbolt of antique wisdom, he slammed the door viciously, ere any of them could retort. And now, being somewhat exhausted by his anxieties, he went to the bar for a morsel of bread and a cup of wine. The landlord would sell nothing less than a pint bottle. Well, then he would have a bottle. But when he came to compare the contents of the bottle with its size, great was the discrepancy. On this he examined the bottle keenly and found that the glass was thin where the bottle tapered, but towards the bottom unnaturally thick. He pointed this out at once. The landlord answered superciliously that he did not make bottles and was no-wise accountable for their shape. "'That we will see presently,' said Gerard, "'I will take this thy pint to the vice bailiff. "'Nay, nay, for heaven's sake,' cried the landlord, changing his tone at once, "'I love to content my customers. If by chance this pint be short, we will charge it and its fellow three sous instead of two sous each. "'So be it, but much I admire that you, the host of Saufaire and Inn, should practice thus. The wine, too, smacketh strongly of spring water.' "'Young sir,' said the landlord, "'we cut no traveller's throats at this inn, as they do at most. However, you know all about that. The white heart is no lion, no bear. "'Whatever masterful robbery is done here is done upon the poor host. How, then, could he live at all if he dealt not a little crooked with the few who pay?' Gerard objected to this system, root and branch. Honest trade was small profit's quick returns, and neither to cheat nor be cheated. The landlord sighed at this picture, "'So might one keep an inn in heaven, but not in burgundy, and foot soldiers going to the wars are quartered on me. How can I but lose by their custom? Two sous per day is their pay, and they eat two sous worth, and drink into the bargain. The pardoners are my good friends, but palmers and pilgrims, what think you I gain by them? Marry a loss!' Minstrels and jonglers draw custom, and so claim to pay no score except for liquor. By the secular monks I neither gain nor lose, but the black and gray friars have made vow of poverty, but not of famine. Eat like wolves and give the poor host naught but their prayers, and may harp not them. How can ye tell? In my father's day we had the weddings, but now the great gentry let their houses and their plates, their mugs and their spoons to any honest couple that want to wed, and thither the very mechanics go with their brides and bridal train. They come not to us. Indeed we could not find seats and vessels for such a crowd as eat and drink and dance the week out at the homeliest wedding now. In my father's day the great gentry sold wine by the barrel only, but now they have left to cry it and sell it by the galloping in the very marketplace. How can we vie with them? They grow it, we buy it of the grower, the coroner's quests we have still, and these would bring goodly profit, but the meat is I gone ere the mouths befall. You should make better provision, suggested his hearer. The law will not let us. We are forbidden to go into the market for the first hour, so when we arrive the burgers have bought all but the refuse. Besides, the law forbids us to buy more than three bushels of meal at a time, yet market day comes but once a week. As for the butchers, they will not kill for us unless we bribe them. Courage, said Gerard kindly, the shoe pinches every trader somewhere. Aye, but not as it pinches us. Our shoe is trod all at one side as well as pinches us lame. A Savoy, if we pay not the merchants we buy meal, meat and wine of. They can cast us into prison and keep us there till we pay or die, but we cannot cast into prison those who buy those very vitals of us. A traveller's horse we may keep for his debt but wear in heaven's name. In our own stable, eating his head off at our cost. Nay, we may keep the traveller himself, but wear in jail. Nay, in our own good house and there must we lodge and feed him gratis. And so, fling good silver after bad, merci no, let him go with a wanion. Our honestest customers are the thieves. Would to heaven there were more of them. They look not too close into the shape of the canakin nor into the host's reckoning. With them and with their purses, tis lightly come and lightly go. Also they spend freely, not knowing, but each carouse may be their last. But the thief-takers, instead of profiting by this fair example, are forever robbing the poor host. Nobel or honest travellers descend at our door, come the provost's men pretending to suspect them and demanding to search them and their papers. To save which offence the host must bleed wine and meat. Then come the excise to examine all your weights and measures. You must stop their mouths with meat and wine, town excise, royal excise, parliament excise, the swarm of them all with a wolf in their stomachs and a sponge in their gullets, monks, friars, pilgrims, palmers, soldiers, excisemen, provost marshals and men, and mere bad debtors. How can the white-heart butt against all these? Cutting no throats in self-defense as do your swans and roses and boar's heads and red lines and eagles, your moons, stars and moors. How can the white-heart be a pint of wine for a pint? And everything risen so? Why, lad, not a pound of bread I sell but cost me three good copper deniers, twelve to the zoo, and each pint of wine bought by the ton cost me four deniers, every sack of charcoal, two sews and gone in a day. A pair of partridges, five sews. What think you of that? Heard one ever the like? Five sews for two little beasts all bone and feather. A pair of pigeons, thirty deniers to his ruination. For we may not raise our price and with the market, oh, no. I tell thee, the shoe is trod all on one side as well as pinches the water into our in. We may charge nought for mustard, pepper, salt or firewood. Think you we get them for nought? Candle, it is a shoe the pound. Salt, five sews the stone. Pepper, four sews the pound. Mustard, twenty deniers the pint. And raw meat, dwindleth it on the spit with no cost to me but loss of weight. Why, what think you I pay my cook? But you shall never guess a hundred sews a year as I am a living sinner. And my waiter, thirty sews, besides his perquisites. He is a handle-richer than I am. And then to be insulted as well as pillaged. Last Sunday I went to church. It is a place I trouble nought often. Didn't the curel lash the hotel keepers? I grant you, he hate all the trades except the one that is a byword for looseness and pride and sloth to wit the clergy. But mind you, he stripe it all the day, he states with a feather but us hotel keepers with a neat's pizzle. Godless for this, Godless for that and most Godless of all for opening our doors during mass. Why the law forces us to open it all out to travellers from another town stopping, halting or passing those be the words. They can find us before the bailiff if he refuse them, mass or no mass. They say a townsman should creep in with the true travellers or weed a blame. They all vow they are tired wayfarers and can I ken every face in a great town like this? So if we respect the law our poor souls ought to suffer and if we respect it not our poor lank purses must bleed at two holes fine and loss of custom. A man speaking of himself in general is a babbling brook. Of his wrongs a shining river. Labetur et labetur in omne volubilis eivum so luckily for my readers though not for all concerned this injured orator was arrested in mid-career. Another man burst in upon his wrongs with all the advantage of a recent wrong a wrong red hot. It was Denis cursing and swearing and crying that he was robbed. Did those hossies pass this way? Who are they? Where do they abide? They have tamed my purse and fifteen golden pieces. Raise the hue and cry ah traitorous as vipers these inns are all get-up-on. There now cried the landlord to Gerard. Gerard implored him to be calm and say how it had befallen. First one went out on some pretense then after a while the other went to fetch her back and neither returning I clapped hand to purse and found it empty. The ungrateful creatures I was letting them win it in a gallop but loaded dice were not quick enough they must claw it all in a lump. Gerard was forgoing at once to the Olderman and setting the officers to find them. Not I said to me I hate the law. No, as it came so let it go. Gerard would not give it up so. At a hint from the landlord he forced Denis along with him to the provost marshal. That dignitary shook his head. We have no clue to occasional thieves that work honestly at their needles till some gull comes and tempts them with an easy booty and then they pluck him. Come away! cried Denis furiously. I knew what use a bourgeois would be to me at a bench and he marched off in a rage. They are clear of the town here this said Gerard. Speak no more on it if you prize my friendship. I have five pieces with the bailiff and ten I left with Manon, luckily. All these traitors had feathered their nest with my last plume. What does gape for so? Nay, I do ill to vent my collar on thee. I'll tell thee all. Art wiser than I. What sets thou at the door? No matter, well then I did offer marriage to that Manon. Gerard was dumbfounded. What? You offered her what? Marriage is not such a mighty strange thing to offer a wench. Tis a strange thing to offer to a strange girl in passing. Nay, I am not such a sot as you opine. I saw the corn in all that chaff. I knew I could not get her by fair means so I was feigned to try foul. Mamoiselle said I. Marriage is not one of my habits but struck by your qualities. I make an exception. Dane to bestow this hand on me. And she bestowed it on thine ear? Not so. On the contrary, she. Arta, disrespectful young monkey. Know that here, not being Holland or any other barbarous state, courtesy begets courtesy. Says she, a colouring like a rose. Soldier, you are too late. He is not a patch on you for looks but then he has loved me a long time. He? Who? Tother. What other? Why, he that was not too late. Oh, that is the way they all speak, the loves, the she-wolves. Their little minds go in leaps. Think you they marshal their words in order of battle? Their tongues are in too great a hurry. Says she, I love him not. Not to say love him, but he does me and dearly and for that reason I'd sooner die than cause him grief I would. Now I believe she did love him. Who doubts that? Why she said so round about, as they always say these things, and with nay for I? Well, one thing led to another and at last, as she could not give me her hand, she gave me a piece of advice and that was to leave part of my money with the young mistress. Then when bad company had cleaned me out I should have some to travel back with, said she. I said I would better her advice and leave it with her. Her face got red. Says she, think what you do, chambermaids have an ill name for honesty. Oh, the devil is not so black as he has painted, said I. I'll risk it, and I left fifteen gold pieces with her. Gerard sighed. I wish you may ever see them again. It is wondrous in what esteem you do hold this sex to trust so to the first comer. For my part I know little about them. I never saw but one I could love as well as I love thee. But the ancients must surely know and they held women cheap. Levius quid femena, said they, which is but la genitance tuned in Latin, le beurre que sont les femmes. Also do but see how the greybeards of our own day speak of them being no longer blinded by desire, this alderman to wit. Oh novice of novices, cried Denis, not to have seen why that old fool rails so on the poor things. One day, out of the millions of women he blackens, one did prefer some other man to him. For which solitary piece of bad taste and ten to one twas good taste he doth bespatter creations fairer half, thereby proving what le beurre que sont les hommes. I see women have a shrewd companion in thee, said Gerard with a smile. But the next moment inquired gravely, why he had not told him all this before. Denis grinned. Had the girl said, I, why then, I had told thee straight. But tis a rule with us soldiers never to publish our defeats, tis much if after each check we claim not a victory. No, that is true, said Gerard, young as I am, I have seen this. That after every great battle the generals on both sides go to the nearest church and sing each a te deum for the victory, me thinks a te martem or te bolognem or te mercuriem, mercury being the god of lies, were more fitting. Pasi bet, said Denis approvingly, hast a good eye, canst see a steeple by daylight. So now tell me how thou hast fed in this town all day. Calm, said Gerard, tis well thou hast asked me, for else I had never told thee. He then related in full how he had been arrested and part what a providential circumstance he had escaped long imprisonment or speedy conflagration. His narrative produced an effect he little expected or desired. I am a traitor, cried Denis, I left thee in a strange place to fight thine own battles while I shook the dice with those jades. Now take thou this sword and pass it through my body forthwith. For what in heaven's name, inquired Gerard, for an example, rode Denis, for a warning to all false loons that profess friendship and disgrace it. Oh, very well, said Gerard, yes, not a bad notion. Where will you have it? Here, through my heart. That is, where other men have a heart, but I none or a satanic false one. Gerard made a motion to run him through and flung his arms round his neck instead. I know no way to thy heart but this thou great silly thing. Denis uttered an exclamation, then hugged him warmly and quite overcome by this sudden turn of youthful affection and native grace, gulped out in a broken voice. Railest on women and art, like them, with thy pretty ways, thy mother's milk is in thee still. Satan would love thee or the bondier would kick him out of hell for shaming it. Give me thy hand, give me thy hand, may a tremendous oath. If I let thee out of my sight till Italy. And so the staunch friends were more than reconciled after their short tiff. End of chapter 37 part 1 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 37 part 2 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham The next day the thieves were tried. The pièce de conviction were reduced in number to the great chagrin of the little clock by the interment of the bones. But there was still a pretty show. A thief's hand struck off la grande delicto, a murdered woman's hair, the abbot's axe, and other tools of crime. The skulls, et cetera, were sworn to by the constables who had found them. Evidence was lax in that age and place. They all confessed but the landlord. And Manon was called to bring the crime home to him. Her evidence was conclusive. He made a vain attempt to shake her credibility by drawing from her that her own sweet-art had been one of the gang and that she had held her tongue so long as he was alive. The public prosecutor came to the aid of his witness and elicited that a knife had been held to her throat and her own sweet-art sworn with solemn oaths to kill her should she betray them and that this terrible threat and not the mere fear of death had glued her lips. The other thieves were condemned to be hanged and the landlord to be broken on the wheel. He uttered a piercing cry when his sentence was pronounced. As for poor Manon, she became the subject of universal criticism. Nor did opinion any longer run dead in her favor. It divided into two broad currents and, strange to relate, the majority of her own sex took her part and the males were but equally divided which hardly happened once in a hundred years. Perhaps some lady will explain the phenomenon. As for me, I am a little shy of explaining things I don't understand. It has become so common. Meantime had she been a lover of notoriety she would have been happy for the town talked of nothing but her. The poor girl, however, had but one wish to escape the crowd that followed her and hide her head somewhere where she could cry over her pondards whom all these proceedings brought vividly back to her affectionate remembrance. Before he was hanged he had threatened her life but she was not one of your fastidious girls who loved their male divinities any the less for beating them, kicking them or killing them but rather the better provided these attentions are interspersed with occasional caresses. So it would have been odd indeed had she taken offence at a mere threat of that sort. He had never threatened her with a rival. She sobbed single-mindedly. Meantime the inn was filled with thirsters for a sight of her who feasted and drank to pass away the time till she should deign to appear. When she had been sobbing some time there was a tap at her door and the landlord entered with a proposal. Nay, weep not good lass your fortune it is made on your like say the word and you are chamber-made of the white heart. Nay, nay said Manon with a fresh burst of grief never more will I be a servant in and in I'll go to my mother. The landlord consoled and coaxed her and she became calmer but nonetheless determined against his proposal. The landlord left her but ere long he returned and made her another proposal. Would she be his wife and landlady of the white heart? You too ill to mock me! she said sorrowfully. Nay, sweetheart, I mock thee not I am too old for sorry jests say you the word and you are my partner for better for worse. She looked at him and saw he was in earnest. On this she suddenly reigned hard to the memory of Le Pondard the tears came in a torrent being the last and she gave her hand to the landlord of the white heart and broke a gold crown with him in sign of plighted trough. We will keep it dark till the house is quiet said the landlord. I said she but meantime prithee give me linen to hem or work to do for the time hangs on me like lead. Her betrothed's eye brightened that this house wifely request and he brought her up two dozen flagons of various sizes to clean and polish. She gathered complacency as she reflected that by a strange turn of fortune all this bright pewter was to be hers. Meantime the landlord went downstairs and falling in with our friends drew them aside into the bar. He then addressed Denis with considerable solemnity. We are old acquaintances and you want not for sagacity. Now advise me in a straight. My custom is somewhat declining. This girl Manon is the talk of the town. See how full the inn is tonight. She doth refuse to be my chambermaid. I have half a mind to marry her. What think you? Shall I say the word? Denis in reply merely opened his eyes wide with amazement. The landlord turned to Gerard with a half inquiring look. Nay sir, said Gerard, I am too young to advise my seniors and betrothes. No matter. Let us hear your thought. Well sir, it was said of a good wife by the ancients, Bene Quae Latuid, Bene Vixit. That is, she is the best wife that is least talked of. But here Male Quae Patuid were as near the mark. Therefore, and you bear the last goodwill, why not club-perses with Denis and me and convey her safe home with a dowry, then may have some rustical person in her own place may be brought to wife her. Why so many words, said Denis, this old fox is not the arcy effect to be. Oh, that is your advice, is it, said the landlord, testily. Well, then, we shall soon know who is the fool you or me for I have spoken to her as it happens. And what is more, she has said I, and she is polishing the flagons at this moment. Oh, said Denis dryly, T'was an ambush-gade. Well, in that case my advice is run for the notary, tie the noose and let us three drink the bride's health till we see six sots of tippling. And shall I now you utter sense? In ten minutes a civil marriage was effected upstairs before a notary and his clock and our two friends. In ten minutes more, for white-hined dead sick of seclusion had taken her place within the bar and was serving out liquids and bustling and her colour rising a little. In six little minutes more she soundly rated a careless servant girl for carrying a nippecan of wine or I and spilling good liquor. During the evening she received across the bar eight offers of marriage, some of them from respectable burgers. Now the landlord and our two friends had in perfect innocence and scorned them sounds behind a screen to drink atariz the new couple's health. The above comedy was thrown in for their entertainment by bounteous fate. They heard the proposals made one after another and uninventive manneaux in variable answer. Serviteur, you are a day after the fair. The landlord chuckled and looked good-natured superiority at both his late advisers with their traditional notions that men shun a woman quiet part to it, i.e. who has become the town talk. But Denis scarce noticed the spouses triumph over him. He was so occupied with his own over Gerard. At each municipal tender of undying affection he turned almost purple with the effort it cost him not to roar with glee and driving his elbow into the deep meditating and much puzzled pupil of antiquity whispered, le peu que son les hommes. The next morning Gerard was eager to start but Denis was under a vow to see the murderers of the golden-haired girl executed. Gerard respected his vow but avoided his example. He went to bid the cure farewell instead and sought and received his blessing. About noon the travellers got clear of the town. Just outside the south gate they passed the gallows. It had eight tenants, the skeleton of Manon's late wept and now being fast-forgotten lover and the bodies of those who had so nearly taken our travellers' lives. A hand was nailed to the beam and hard by on a huge wheel was clawed the dead landlord with every bone in his body broken to pieces. Gerard averted his head and hurried by. Denis lingered and crowed over his dead foes. Times are changed, melades, since we too start shaking in the cold awaiting you seven to come and cut our throats. Five Denis death-squares all reckonings pretty pass on without another word if you prize my respect a groat. To this earnest remonstrance Denis yielded. He even said thoughtfully, you have been better brought up than I. About three in the afternoon they reached a little town with the people buzzing in knots. The wolves, starved by the cold, had entered and eaten two grown-up persons overnight in the main street, so some were blaming the eaten, none but fools or naves are about after nightfall, others the law for not protecting the town and others the corporation for not enforcing what laws there were. Bah! this is nothing to us said Denis and it was for resuming their march. Aye! but Tiz! remonstrated Gerard. What! are we the pair they ate? No, but we may be the next pair. Aye, neighbour! said an ancient man, he wished the town's fault for not obeying the ducal ordinance which bids every shopkeeper light a lamp over his door at sunset and burn it till sunrise. On this Denis asked him, somewhat derisively, what made him fancy rush-dips would scare away empty wolves? Why mutton-fat is all there, Joy? Tiz! not the fat vain man but the light. All ill things hate light, especially wolves and the imps that lurk, I wean under their fur. Example, Paris city stands in a wood-like and the wolves do howl around it all night. Yet of late years wolves come but little in the streets. For why? In that borough the watchmen do thunder at each door that is dark and make the weary white rise and light. Tiz! my son tells me he is a great voyager, my son Nicholas. In further explanation, he assured them that previously to that ordinance no city had been worse infested with wolves than Paris. A troupe had boldly assaulted the town in 1420 and in 1438 they had eaten fourteen persons in a single month between Montmartre and the gate Saint-Antoine and that not a winter month even, but September and as for the dead which nightly lay in the streets slain in midnight brawls or assassinated the wolves had used to devour them and to grub up the fresh graves in the churchyards and tear out the bodies. Here a thoughtful citizen suggested that probably the wolves had been bridled of late in Paris not by candle lights but owing to the English having been driven out of the kingdom of France. For those English be very wolves themselves for fierceness and greediness. What marvel then that under their rule our neighbours of France should be wolf-eaten. This logic was too suited to the time and place not to be received with acclamation but the old man stood his ground. I grant ye those islanders or wolves but two-legged ones and little up to favour their four-footed cousins. One greedy thing love at it another I throw not by the same token and this too I have from my boy Nicole so wolf dare not show his nose in London city though it is smaller than Paris and thick woods hard by the north wall and there in great store of deer and wild boars as a rifle flies at mid-summer. Sir, said Gerald, you seem conversant with wild beasts. Prithee, advise my comrade here and me. We would not waste time on the road and if we may go forward to the next town with reasonable safety. Young man, I throw twer and idle risk. It lacks but an hour of dusk and you must pass nigh a wood where lurk some thousands of these half-starved vermin rank coward single but in great bands, bold as lions. Wherefore I read you sojourn here the night and journey on betimes. By the dawn the vermin will be tired out with roaring and rampaging and may harp will have filled their lank bellies with flesh of my good neighbours here, the unteachable fools. Gerald hoped not and asked could he recommend them to a good inn. Ha! there is the Tête d'Or my granddaughter keeps it. She is a mijore but not so navish as most hotel keepers and a house indifferent clean. Hey for the Tête d'Or struck in Denis decided by this ineradicable foyble. On the way to it Gerald inquired of his companion what a mijore was. Denis laughed at his ignorance not know what a mijore is why all the world knows that it is neither more nor less than a mijore. As they entered the Tête d'Or they met a young lady richly dressed with a velvet chaperon on her head which was confined by law to the nobility. They unbonneted and lauded low and she curtsied but fixed her eye on vacancy the while which had a curious rather than a genial effect. However nobility was not so unassuming in those days as it is now so they were little surprised but the next minute supper was served and low in came this princess and carved the goose. Holy Saint-Bavon! cried Gerald. Twas the landlady all the while a young woman cursed with nice white teeth and lovely hands for these beauties being misaligned to homely features had turned her head. She was a feeble carver carving not for the sake of others but herself, i.e., to display her hands. When not carving she was eternally either taking a pin out of her head or her body or else putting a pin into her head or her body. To display her teeth she laughed indifferently at gay or grave and from ear to ear and she sat at ease with her mouth ajar. Now there is an animal in creation of no great general merit but it has the eye of a hawk for affectation. It is called a boy. And Gerald was but a boy still in some things swift to see and to loathe affectation. So Denis sat casting sheep's eyes and Gerald daggers at one comedian. Presently in the midst of her minoderies she gave a loud shriek and bounded out of her chair like hair from form and ran backwards out of the room uttering little screams and holding her farthing-gail tight down to her ankles with both hands and as she scuttled out of the door a mouse scuttled back to the wainscot in a state of equal and perhaps more reasonable terror. The guests who had risen in anxiety at the principal yell now stood irresolute a while then sat down laughing. The tender Denis to whom a woman's cowardice being a sexual trait seemed to be a lovely and pleasant thing said he would go and comfort her and bring her back. Nay, nay, nay, for pity's sake let her bide cried Gerald earnestly O blessed mouse sure some saint sent thee to our aid. Now at his right hand sat a sturdy middle-aged burger whose conduct up-to-date had been cynical. He had never budged nor even rested his knife at all this fracker. He now turned on Gerald and inquired hortily whether he really thought that Grémacière was afraid of a mouse. Aye, she screamed hearty! Where is the coquette that cannot scream to the life? These sheat-haven-keepers do still ape the nobles. The princess or duchess hath lain here a night that was honestly a fear of a mouse having been brought up to it and this ape had seen her and said I will start at a mouse and make a coil. She has no more right to start at a mouse than to wear that fur on her bosom and that velvet on her monkey's head. I am of the town, young man, and I have known the mijoy all her life and I mind when she was no more afraid of a mouse than she is of a man. He added that she was fast emptying the inn with these Saint-Gérise. All the world is so sick of her hands that her very kinsfolk will not venture themselves and eye them. He concluded with something like a sigh that Tete Dorr was a thriving hostuary under my old chum, her good father, but she is digging its grave tooth and nail. Tooth and nail? Good! A right merry conceit and a true, said Gerard. But the right merry conceit was an inadvertence as pure as snow and the stout burger went to his grave and never knew what he had done. For just then attention was attracted by the knee returning pompously. He inspected the apartment minutely and with a high official air. He also looked solemnly under the table and during the whole inquisition a white hand was placed conspicuously on the ledge of the open door and a tremulous voice inquired behind it whether the horrid thing was quite gone. The enemy has retreated bag and baggage, said Denis, and handed in the trembling fair who sitting down apologised to her guests for her foolish fears. With so much earnestness, grace and seeming self-contempt that but for a sour grin on his neighbour's face Gerard would have been taken in as all the other strangers were. Dinner ended. The young landlady begged in Augustine friar at her right hand to say grace. He delivered a longish one. The moment he began she clapped her white hands piously together and held them up joined for mortals to admire. Tis an excellent pose for taper white fingers and cast her eyes upward towards heaven and felt as thankful to it as a magpie does while cutting off with your thimble. After supper the two friends went to the street door and eyed the marketplace. The mistress joined them and pointed out the town hall, the burrow jail, St Catherine's church, et cetera. This was courteous to say the least but the true cause soon revealed itself. The fair hand was poked right under their eyes every time an object was indicated and Gerard eyed it like a basilisk and longed for a bunch of nettles. The sunset and the traveller's few in number drew round the great roaring fire and omitting to go on the spit were frozen behind though roasted in front. For if the German stoves were oppressively hot the French Salmanger were bitterly cold and above all stormy. In Germany men sat bare-headed round the stove and took off their upper clothes but in burgundy they kept on their hats and put on their warmest furs to sit round the great open chimney places at which the external air rushed furiously from door and ill-fitting window. However, it seems their medieval backs were broad enough to bear it for they made themselves not only comfortable but merry and broke harmless jests over each other in turn. For instance, Denise knew shoes though not in direct communication had this day exploded with twin-like sympathy and unanimity. Where do you buy your shoes, soldier? asked one. Denis looked a-scant at Gerard and not liking the theme shook it off. I gather them off the trees by the roadside he said surly. Then you gather these two ripe, said the hostess who was only a fool externally. I, rotten ripe, observed another inspecting them. Gerard said nothing but pointed the circular satire by pantomime. He slyly put out both his feet one after another under Denis's eye with their German shoes on which a hundred leagues of travel had produced no effect. They seemed hewn out of a rock. At this I'll twist the smooth valid's neck that sold me mine shouted Denis in huge rough and confirmed the threat with singular oaths peculiar to the medieval military. The landlady put her fingers in her ears thereby exhibiting the hand in a fresh attitude. Tell me when he has done his horizons somebody said she mincingly and after that they fell to telling stories. Gerard when his turn came told the adventure of Denis and Gerard at the Inn in D'Enfant and so well that the hearers were wrapped into sweet oblivion of the very existence of mijoë and hands. But this made her very uneasy and she had recourse to her grand coup. This misdirected genius had for a twelve month past practised yawning and could do it now at any moment so naturally as to said all creation gaping could all creation have seen her. By this means she got in all her charms. For first she showed her teeth then out of good breeding you know closed her mouth with three taper fingers so the moment Gerard's story got too interesting and absorbing she turned to and made yawns and croise sur la bouche. This was already fine but Gerard was an artist and artists are chilled by gaping auditors. He bore up against the yawns a long time but finding they came from a bottomless reservoir lost both heart and temper and suddenly rising in mid-narrative said but I weary our hostess and I am tired myself so good night whipped a candle off the dresser whispered to me I cannot stand her and marched to bed in a moment. The mijoë coloured and bit her lips. She had not intended her by play for Gerard's eye and she saw in a moment rude and silly and publicly rebuked. She sat with cheek on fire and a little natural water in her eyes and looked ten times comelier and more womanly and interesting than she had done all day. The desertion of the best narrator broke up the party and the unassuming Denis approached the meditative mijoë and invited her in the most flattering terms to gamble with him. She started from her reverie looked him down into the earth centre with chilling dignity and consented for she remembered all in a moment what a show of hands gambling admitted. The soldier and the mijoë rattled the dice in which sport she was so taken up with her hands that she forgot to cheat and Denis won an ichu osele of her. She fumbled slowly with her purse partly because her sex do not burn to pay debts of honour partly to admire the play of her little knuckles peeping between their soft white cushions. Denis proposed a compromise. Three silver francs I win of you, fair hostess. Give me now three kisses of this white hand and we'll in cry quits. You are malapère said the lady with a toss of her head. Besides they are so dirty see they are like ink and to convince him she put them out to him and turned them up and down. They were no dirtier than cream fresh from the cob and she knew it she was eternally washing and sending them. Denis read the objection like the observant warrior he was seized them and mumble them finding him so appreciative of her charm she said timidly will you do me a kindness good soldier a thousand fair hostess and you will nay I ask but one tis to tell thy comrade I was right sorry to lose his most thrilling story and I hope he will tell me the rest tomorrow morning meantime I shall not sleep for thinking on will tell him that to pleasure me I'll tell the young savage but he is not worthy of your condescension sweet hostess he would rather be a cider man than a woman any day so would he is right the young women of the day are not worthy of him a tadim mijore he has a good honest and right comely face anyway I would not guest of mine should think me unmanally not for all the world will keep faith with me and tell him on this fair hand I swear it and thus I seal the pledge there no need to melt the wax though now go to bed and tell him you sleep the perverse toad I thank the manon for teaching me that word was inclined to bestow her slight affections upon Gerard not that she was inflammable far less so than many that passed for prudes in the town but Gerard possessed a triple attraction that has ensnared coquettes in all ages one he was very handsome two he did not admire her the least three he had given her a good slap in the face then he woke Gerard and gave the message Gerard was not enchanted dust wake a tired man to tell him that am I to be pestered with mijoed by night as well as day but I tell thee novice thou hast conquered her trust to my experience her voice sank to melodious whispers and the cunning jade did in a manner bribed me to carry thee her challenge to love's lists for so I read her message Denis then assuming the senior and the man of the world told Gerard the time was come to show him our soldier understood friendship and camaraderie Italy was now out of the question fate had provided better and the blind jade fortune had smiled on merit for once the head of gold had been a prosperous inn would be again with a man at its head a good general laid farsighted plans but was always ready to abandon them should some brilliant advantage offer and to reap the full harvest of the unforeseen twist chiefly by this trait great leaders defeated little ones for these latter could do nothing not cut and dried beforehand sorry friendship that would marry me to a mijore interpose Gerard yawning comrade be reasonable it is not the friskiest sheep that falls down the cliff all creatures must have their flings soon or late and why not a woman what more frivolous than a kitten what graver than a cat has to good eye for nature Denis said Gerard that I proclaim a better for thine interest boy trust then to me these little doves they are my study day and night happy the man whose wife taketh her fling before wedlock and who trippeth up the altar steps instead of down them marriage it almost changes them for better or else for worse why Gerard she is honest when all is done and he is no man nor half a man that cannot mould any honest lass like a bit of warm wax and she I aside him at bed and board I tell thee in one month thou wilt make of this cooket the matron the most sober in the town and of all its wives the one most docile and submissive why she is half tamed already nine in ten meek and mild once had gently hated thee like poison all their lives for wounding of their hidden pride but she for an affront proffers affection by Joshua his bugle a generous lass void of petty malice when thou wast gone she sat a thinking and spoke not a sure sign of love in one of her sex for of all things else they speak ere they think also her voice did sink exceeding low in discoursing of thee and murmured sweetly another infallible sign the bold hath struck and rankles in her oh be joyful art silent I see dis-settled I shall go alone to Romirement alone and sad but pillage and pollaxes what care I for that since my dear comrade will stay here landlord of the tech door and safe from all the storms of life will think of me Gerard now and then by thy warm fire of me camped on some windy heath or lying in wet trenches or wounded on the field and far from comfort nay and this he said in a manner truly noble not comfortless or cold or wet or bleeding twill still warm my heart to lie on my back and think that I have placed my dear friend and comrade true in the tech door far from a soldier's ills I let you run on dear Denis said Gerard softly because at each word you show me the treasure of a good heart but now be think thee my truth is plighted there where my heart it clingeth you so leal would you make me disloyal perdition sees me but I forgot that said Denis no more then but highly to bed good Denis next to Margaret I love thee best on earth and value thy cur door far more than a dozen of these tech door so pretty call me at the first blush of rosy fingered mourn and let's away ere the woman with the hands be stirring they rose with the dawn broke their fast by the kitchen fire Denis inquired of the girl whether the mistress was about nay but she hath risen from her bed by the same token I am carrying her this to clean her with all and she filled the jug with boiling water and took it upstairs behold said Gerard the very elements must be warmed to suit her skin whether saints said would still chose the coldest pool away ere she come down and catch us they paid the score and left the tech door while its mistress was washing her hands End of chapter 37 part 2 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 38 of The Cloyster and the Hath by Charles Reed This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording by Tom Denham Outside the town they found the snow fresh trampled by innumerable wolves every foot of the road We did well to take the old man's advice Denis I did we for now I think Aunt I did hear them last night scurrying under our window and howling and whining for man's flesh in your market place but no fat burger did pity the poor vagabonds and drop out a window Gerard smiled but with an air of abstraction and they plodded on in silence What does meditate so profoundly? Thy goodness Denis was anything but pleased at this answer Amongst his oddities you may have observed that he could stand a great deal of real impertinence He was so good-humoured but would fire up now and then where not even the shadow of a ground for anger existed A civil question merits a civil reply he said very dryly Alas! I meant no other said Gerard Then why pretend you were thinking of my goodness when you know I have no goodness under my skin Had another said this I had answered thou liest, but to thee I say hast no eye for men's qualities but only for women's and once more I do defy thy unreasonable collar and say I was thinking on thy goodness of overnight Wouldst have wedded me to the tet door or rather to the tet devoidore and left thyself solitary Oh! are ye there, lad? said Denis recovering his good humour in a moment Well! but to speak sooth I meant that not for goodness but for friendship and true fellowship no more And let me tell you, my young master my conscience it pricketh me even now for letting you turn your back thus on fortune and peaceful days A truer friend than I had tain and somewhat hamstrung thee Then hadst thou been feigned to lie smarting at the tet door a month or so Yon skittish lass had nursed thee tenderly and all had been well Blade had I in hand to do it but remembering how thou hatest pain though it be but a scratch my craven heart it failed me at the pinch And Denis wore a look of humble apology for his lack of virtuous resolution when the path of duty lay so clear Gerard raised his eyebrows at astonishment at this monstrous but thoroughly characteristic revelation However this new and delicate point of friendship was never discussed Viz, whether one ought in all love to cut the tendon achilles of one's friend for an incident interposed Here cometh one in our rear arriving on his neighbour's mule, shouted Denis Gerard turned round and how do you know it is not his own prey Oh, blind because he rides it with no discretion In truth, the man came galloping like a fury But what astonished the friend's most was it on reaching them the rustic rider's eyes opened saucer-like and he drew the rain so suddenly and powerfully that the mule stuck out her forelegs and went sliding between the pedestrians like a foreleg table on casters I throw you from the tet door Which of ye is the younger? He that was born the later said Denis, winking at his companion Gramercy for the news Come, divine then, and shall Thy beard is ripe, thy fellow's is green He shall be the younger, here youngster and he held him out of paper-packet Ye left this at the tet door and our mistress sends it ye Nay, good fellow, me thinks I left naught and Gerard felt his pouch, et cetera Would ye make our Burgess a liar? said the rustic reproachfully and shall I have no pour-bois? still more reproachfully and came ventre-à-terre Nay, thou shall have pour-bois and he gave him a small coin à la bonne heure cried the clown and his features beamed with disproportionate joy The Virgin go with thee, come up, Jenny! and back he went, stomach to earth as his nation is pleased to call it Gerard undid the pocket It was about six inches square and inside it he found another packet which contained a packet, and so on At the fourth he hurled the whole thing into the snow Denis took it out and rebuked his petulance He excused himself on the ground of hating affectation Denis attested, the great toe of the little daughter of Herodias there was no affection here but only woman's good wit doubtless the wraps contained something which out of delicacy or her sex as lovely cunning should not her hind should see her bestow on a young man Thy gutter to wit! I went on Her own, then, or a lock of her hair What is this? A piece of raw silk fresh from the worm well of all the love-tokens Now, who but thee ever dreamed that she is so nought as send me love-tokens? I saw no harm in her barring her hands Stay, here is something hard lurking in this soft nest Come forth, I say, little nestling Saints and pike-staves, look at this It was a gold ring with a great amethyst glowing and sparkling full-coloured but pure as crystal How lovely! said Gerard innocently And here is something writ, read it, thou I read not so glib as some when I know not the matter beforehand Gerard took the paper Tis a posy and fairly enough writ He read the lines blushing like a girl They were very naïve and may thus be English'd Youth with thee my heart is fled Come back to the golden head Wilt not yet this token keep Of her who doth thy going weep? Gift the world prove harsh and cold Come back to the head of gold The little dove, pardon me The great owl to go and risk her good name thus However, thank heaven she has played this prank With an honest lad that will ne'er expose her folly But, oh, the perverseness! Could she not bestow her nauseousness on thee? Denis sighed and shrugged on thee That art is ripe for folly as herself Denis confessed that his young friend Had harped his very thought T'was passing strange to him That a damsel with eyes in her head Passed by a man and bestow her affections on a boy Still he could not but recognise in this The bounty of nature Boys were human beings after all And but for this occasional caprice of women Their lot would be too terrible They would be out of the sun altogether Blighted and never come to anything Since only the fair could make a man Of such unpromising materials as a boy Gerard interrupted this flattering discourse To beg the warrior philosopher's acceptance Of the lady's ring He refused it flatly And insisted on Gerard going back To the tet door at once, ring and all Like a man and not letting a poor girl Hold out her arms to him in vain Her hands, you mean? With a hand, with the tet door in it Failing in this, he was for putting the ring On his friend's finger Gerard declined, I wear a ring already What that sorry gim-crack Why, to pewter or tin at best And this virgin gold for by the jewel I, but T'was Margaret gave me this one And I value it above rubies I'll neither part with it nor give it a rival And he kissed the base metal And bad it fear not I see the owl hath sent her ring to a goose Said Denis sorrowfully However he prevailed on Gerard To fasten it inside his bonnet To this indeed the lad consented very readily For sovereign qualities were universally ascribed In jewels and the amethyst Round high among these precious talismans When this was disposed of Gerard earnestly requested his friend To let the matter drop Since speaking of the other sex to him Made him pine so for Margaret And almost unmanned him with the thought That each step was taking him farther from her I am no general lover, Denis There is room in my heart For one sweetheart and for one friend I am far from my dear mistress And my friend a few leagues more And I must lose him too Oh, let me drink thy friendship pure while I may And not dilute with any of these stupid females And shalt, honeypot And shalt, said Denis kindly But as to my leaving thee At remirement, reckon thou not on that For, three consecutive oaths, if I do Nay, I shall propose to thee to stay Forty-eight hours there While I kiss my mother and sisters And the females generally And on go you and I together to the sea Denis! Denis! Denis, know me, to settled Gain say me not, or I'll go with thee to Rome Why not? His holiness the Pope hath ever Some little merry pleasant war to ward And a Burgundian soldier is still welcome in his ranks On this, Gerard opened his heart Denis, ere I fell in with thee I used often to halt on the road Unable to go farther, my puny heart So pulled me back And then, after a short prayer to the saints for aid Would I rise and drag my most unwilling body onward But since I joined company with thee Great is my courage I have found the saying of the ancients True that better is a bright comrade On the weary road than a horse-litter And, dear brother, when I do think Of what we have done and suffered together Saved my life from the bear And from yet more savage thieves And, even poor, I did make shift To draw thee out of Rhine And somehow loved thee double from that hour How many ties tender and strong between us Had I my will I'd never, never, never, never Part with my Denis on this side the grave Well-a-day, God, his will be done No, my will shall be done This time, shouted Denis Le bon Dieu has bigger fish to fry than you or me I'll go with thee to Rome There is my hand on it Think what you say Tis impossible, Tis too selfish of me I tell thee, Tis settled No power can change me At Remirement I borrow ten pieces of my uncle And on we go, Tis fixed They shook hands over it Then Gerard said nothing For his heart was too full But he ran twice round his companion as he walked Then danced backwards in front of him And finally took his hand And so on they went hand in hand like sweethearts Till a company of mounted soldiers About fifty in number Rose to sight on the brow of a hill See the banner of burgundy, said Denis joyfully I shall look out for a comrade among these How gorgeous is the standard in the sun, said Gerard And how brave are the leaders with velvet and feathers And steel breast-plates like glassy mirrors When they came near enough to distinguish faces Denis uttered an exclamation Why, Tis the bastard of burgundy as I live Nay, then, there is fighting afoot since he is out A gallant leader, Gerard, rates his life no higher Than a private soldier's And the soldier's no higher than a tomtiz And that is the captain for me And see, Denis, the very mules with their great brass frontlets And trappings seem proud to carry them No wonder men itch to be soldiers And in the midst of this innocent admiration The troop came up with them Halt, cried a stentorian voice The troop halted The bastard of burgundy Bent his brow gloomily on Denis How now, Arbalestria, how comes it Thy face is turned southward When every good hand and heart Is hurrying northward Denis replied respectfully That he was going on leave after some years of service To see his kindred at Remirement Good, but this is not the time for it The duchy has disturbed Ho, bring that dead soldier's mule to the front And thou mount her and forward with us to Flanders So please, your highness, said Denis firmly That may not be My home is close at hand I have not seen it these three years And above all I have this poor youth in charge Whom I may not cannot leave Till I see him shipped for Rome Dust-bandy words with me Said the chief with amazement Turning fast to wrath Art weary of thy life Let go the youth's hand and into the saddle Without more idle words Denis made no reply But he held Gerard's hand the tighter And looked defiance At this the bastard roared Jarnak, dismount sixth of thy archers And shoot me this white-livered curd Dead where he stands for an example The young Count Dijarnak, second in command Gave the order and the men dismounted To execute it Strip him naked, said the bastard In the cold tone of military business And put his arms and accoutrements On the spare mule We'll maybe find some clown Worthier to wear them Denis groaned aloud Am I to be shamed as well as slain? Oh, nay, nay, nay, cried Gerard Awaking from the stupor Into which this thunderbolt of tyranny Had thrown him. He shall go with you on the instant I'd leave a part with him for ever Then see a hair of his dear head harmed Oh, sir, oh, my lord Give a poor boy but a minute To bid his only friend farewell He will go with you I swear he shall go with you The stern leader nodded a cold, contemptuous assent Thou, Dijarnak, stay with them And bring them on alive or dead Forward! And he resumed his march Followed by all the band But the young Count and six archers One of whom held the spare mule Denis and Gerard gazed at one another haggardly Oh, what a look! And after this mute interchange of anguish They spoke hurriedly for the moments were flying by Thou goest to Holland Thou knowest where she bides Tell her all She will be kind to thee for my sake Oh, sorry tale that I shall carry her For God's sake, go back to the dead door I am mad Hush, let me think Have I not to say to thee, Denis My head, my head Ah, I have it Make for the Rhine Gerard Strasbourg, Tis but a step And down the current to Rotterdam Margaret is there, I go thither I'll tell her, thou art coming We shall all be together My lads hast ye Or you will get us into trouble Said the Count firmly But not harshly now Oh, sir, one moment One little moment, panted Gerard Cursed be the land I was born in Cursed be the race of man And he that made them what they are Screamed Denis Hush, Denis, hush Blaspheme not Oh, God forgive him he what's not what he says Be patient Denis, be patient Though we meet no more on earth Let us meet in a better world Where no blaspheme may enter To my heart lost friend For what are words now He held out his arms And they locked one another in a close embrace They kissed one another Again and again Speechless And the tears rained down their cheeks And the Count Jarnak looked unamazed But the rougher soldiers to whom Comrade Was a sacred name Looked on with some pity in their hard faces Then, at a signal from Jarnak With kind force and words of rude consolation They almost lifted Denis onto the mule And putting him in the middle of them Spurred after their leader And Gerard ran wildly after For the lane turned To see the very last of him And the last glimpse he caught Denis was rocking to and fro on his mule And tearing his hair out But at this sight something rose In Gerard's throat so high, so high He could run no more nor breathe But gasped and leaned against the snow-clad hedge Seizing it and choking piteously The thorns ran into his hand After a bitter struggle he got his breath again And now began to see his own misfortune Yet not all at once to realize it So sudden and numbing was the stroke He staggered on But scarce feeling or caring Wither he was going And every now and then he stopped And his arms fell And his head sank on his chest And he stood motionless Then he said to himself Can this thing be? This must be a dream To scarce five minutes Since we were so happy Walking handed, faring to Rome together And we admired them And their gay banners and helmets Oh, hearts of hell! All nature seemed to stare now As lonely as himself Not a creature in sight No colour but white He, the ghost of his former self Wondered alone among the ghosts of trees And fields and hedges Desolate, desolate, desolate All was desolate He knelt and gathered a little snow Nay, I dream not For this is snow Cold as the world's heart It is bloody to what may that mean Fooled his from my hand I mind not the wound Aye, I see thorns Welcome, kindly foes I felt ye not Ye ran not into my heart Ye are not cruel like men He had risen And was dragging his leaden limbs along When he heard horses' feet and gay voices behind him He turned with a joyful but wild hope That the soldiers had relented And were bringing Dany back But no, it was a gay cavalcade A gentleman of rank and his favourites In velvet and furs and feathers And four or five armed retainers In buffed jerkins They swept gayly by Gerard never looked at them After they were gone by Certain gay shadows had come And passed, that was all He was like one in a dream But he was rudely wakened Suddenly a voice in front of him Cried harshly, stand and deliver And there were three Of the gentlemen's servants In front of him They had ridden back to rob him How ye false knaves said he quite calmly Would ye shame your noble master He will hang ye to the nearest tree And with these words he drew his sword doggedly And set his back to the hedge One of the men instantly Leveled his patronel at him But another less sanguinary interposed Be not so hasty And be not thou so mad Look yonder! Gerard looked And scarce a hundred yards off The nobleman that his friends had halted And sat on their horses Looking at the lawless act Too proud to do their own dirty work But not too proud to reap the fruit And watch lest their agents Should rob them of another man's money The milder servant then A good-natured fellow Showed Gerard resistance was vain Reminded him common thieves Often took the life as well as the purse And assured him it cost a mint to be a gentleman His master had lost money at play overnight And was going to visit his lemon And so must take money where he saw it Therefore good youth Consider that we rob not for ourselves And deliver us that fat purse at thy girdle Without more ado Nor put us to the pain of slitting thy throat And taking it all the same This navy's right said Gerard calmly Allowed but to himself I ought not to fling away my life Margaret would be so sorry Then take the poor man's purse To the rich man's pouch And with it this Time I pray the Holy Trinity Each coin in it may burn his hand And freeze his heart And blast his soul for ever Begone and leave me to my sorrow He flung them the purse They rode away muttering For his words pricked them a little A very little And he staggered on Penelous now as well as friendless Till he came to the edge of a wood Then, though his heart Could hardly feel this second blow His judgment did And he began to ask himself What was the use going further? He sat down on the hard road And ran his nails into his hair And tried to think for the best A task all the more difficult That a strange drowsiness Was stealing over him Rome he could never reach without money Denis had said Go to Strasbourg and down the Rhine home He would have paid Denis But how to get to Strasbourg without money Then suddenly seemed to ring in his ears Gift the world, prove harsh and cold Come back to the head of gold And if I do I must go as her servant I who am Margaret's I am a weary, a weary I will sleep and dream All is as it was Ah me, how happy were we An hour a gone, we little knew how happy There is a house, the owner well to do What if I told him my wrong And prayed his aid To retrieve my purse And so to Rhine Fool, is he not a man like the rest? He would scorn me and trample me lower Denis cursed the race of men That I will never But oh, I begin to loathe and dread them Nay, here I will lie till sunset Then darkling creep into this rich man's barn And take by stealth a draught of milk Or a handful of grain To keep body and soul together God, who hath seen the rich rob me Will peradventure forgive me They say, till ill sleeping on the snow Death steals on such sleepers With muffled feet and honey breath But what can I, I am a weary, a weary Shall this be the wood Where lie the wolves The young old man spoke of I must entrust them They are not men and I am so weary He crawled to the roadside And stretched out his limbs on the snow With a deep sigh Ah, tear not thine hair so Teareth my heart to see thee Margaret, never see me more Margaret, and the too tender heart was still And the constant lover and friend of antique mould They silent on the snow in peril from the weather In peril from wild beasts, in peril from hunger Friendless and penniless in a strange land And not half way to Rome End of chapter 38 Recording by Tom Denham