The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 35

"Thou poor Pertinax! How empty--how drear thy life. For this do I pity thee with pity kin to love--"

"Love?" he whispered. "Ah, Melissa, couldst e'en learn to love one so unlovely, so rude, so rough and unmannered as I?"

"Never!" she sighed, "O, never--unless thou teach me?"

"Would indeed I might, Melissa. Ah, teach me how I may teach thee to love one so unworthy as Pertinax!"

Now hearkening to his harsh voice grown soft and tremulous, beholding the truth in his honest eyes, Melissa smiled, wondrous tender, and reaching out took hold upon his two hands.

"Kneel!" she commanded. "Kneel here upon the gra.s.s as I do kneel. Now, lay by thy c.u.mbrous helmet. Now fold thy great, strong hands. Now bow thy tall, grim head and say in sweet, soft accents low and reverent: 'Melissa, I do love thee heart and soul, thee only do I love and thee only will I love now and for ever. So aid me, Love, amen!'" Then, closing his eyes, Sir Pertinax bowed reverent head, and, humbly folding his hands, spake as she bade him.

Thereafter opening his eyes, he saw her watching him through gathering tears, and leaning near, he reached out eager arms, yet touched her not.

Quoth he: "O maid beloved, what is thy sorrow?"

"'Tis joy--joy, and thou--thou art so strong and fierce yet so gentle and simple of heart! O, may I prove worthy thy love--"

"Worthy? Of my love?" he stammered. "But O Melissa, I am but he thou didst name harsh of tongue."

"Aye, I did!" she sobbed.

"Hard of heart, flinty of soul, rude, unmannered and unlovely."

"Aye--I did and--loved thee the while!" she whispered. "So now do I pray that I prove worthy."

"Worthy? Thou? O my sweet maid--thou that art kin to the holy angels, thou so high and far removed 'bove me that I do tremble and--fear to touch thee--".

"Nay, fear me not, Pertinax," she sighed, "for though indeed I am all this, yet maid am I also and by times--very human. So Pertinax, thou great, fearless man-at-arms, lay by thy so great fears a while--I do beseech thee." Then Sir Pertinax, beholding the tender pa.s.sion of her eyes, forgot his fear in glad wonderment and, reaching out hands that trembled for all their strength, drew her to his close embracement.

And thus, kneeling together upon the sun-dappled sward, they forgot all things in this joyous world save only their love and the glory of it. And when they had kissed each other--

My daughter GILLIAN remonstrateth:

GILL: But, wait, they haven't yet, you know!

MYSELF: Indeed, they have, I've just said so.

GILL: Then, father, please to tell me this: How can a person say a kiss?

And so, since kisses can't be said, Please make them do it now instead.

Thus, cradled in his strong arms, she questioned him tenderly:

"Dost mind how, upon a day, my Pertinax, didst ask of me the amulet I bore within my bosom?"

"Aye," he answered, "and sure 'tis charm of potent magic whose spell brought us out of the dungeon at Ca.n.a.lise--the which is great matter for wonder! But 'tis for thy dear sake I do cherish it--"

"Bear you it yet?"

"Here upon my heart."

"And if I should ask it of thee again--wouldst render it back to me?"

"Never!" quoth he. "Never, until with it I give thee myself also!"

But presently she stirred in his embrace for upon the air was an approaching clamour, voices, laughter and the ring of mail.

"Come away!" whispered Melissa, upspringing to her feet. "Come, let thou and Love and I hide until these disturbers be gone and the sweet world hold but us three again."

Now, as they stood, hand in hand, deep hidden 'mid the green, they beheld six merry woodland rogues who led an ambling a.s.s whereon rode a friar portly and perspiring albeit he had a jovial eye. And as he rode he spake his captors thus in voice full-toned and deep:

"Have a care, gentle rogues and brethren, hurry not this ambulant animal unduly, poor, much-enduring beast. Behold the pensive pendulation of these auriculars so forlornly a-dangle! Here is a.s.s that doth out-patience all a.s.ses, both four and two-legged. Here is meek a.s.s of leisured soul loving not haste--a very pensive perambulator. So hurry not the a.s.s, my brothers, for these several and distinct reasons or arguments. Firstly, dearly beloved, because I love haste no more than the a.s.s; secondly, brethren, 't is property of Holy Church which is above all argument; and, thirdly, 't is bestridden by one Friar John, my very self, and I am forsooth weighty argument. Fourthly, beloved, 'tis an a.s.s that--ha! O sweet vision for eyes human or divine! Do I see thee in very truth, thou damsel of disobedience, dear dame of discord, sweet, witching, wilful lady--is it thou in very truth, most loved daughter, or wraith conjured of thy magic and my perfervid imaginations--speak!"

"'T is I myself, Reverend Father!" laughed Melissa. "O my dear, good Friar John, methinks the kind Saints have brought thee to my need."

"Saints, quotha!" exclaimed the Friar, rolling merry eye towards his several captors. "Call ye these--Saints? Long have I sought thee, thou naughty maid, and to-day in my quest these brawny 'saints' beset me with bow and quarterstaff and me constrained hither--but my blessing on them since they have brought me to thee. And now, sweet child and daughter, whiles the news yet runneth hot-foot or, like bird unseen, wingeth from lip to lip, I thy ghostly father have rare good news for thee--"

"Nay, Friar John, I will guess thy tidings: Sir Agramore of Biename lieth sorry and sore of a cudgelling."

"How!" cried the Friar. "Thou dost know--so soon?"

"Verily, Reverend Father, nor have I or my worthy guardians aught to fear of him hereafter. And now have I right wondrous news for thee, news that none may guess. List, dear Friar John, thou the wisest and best loved of all my guardians ten; to-day ye are absolved henceforth all care of your wilful ward since to-day she pa.s.seth from the guardians.h.i.+p of ye ten to the keeping of one. Come forth, Pertinax, thou only one beloved of me for no reason but that thou art thou and I am I--as is ever the sweet, mad way of True-love--come forth, my dear-loved, poor soldier!" Out from the trees strode Pertinax but, beholding his face, Friar John scowled and, viewing his rich surcoat and goodly armour, fell to perspiring wonder and amaze.

"Now by the sweet Saint Amphibalus!" quoth he. "Surely these be the arms of Sir Agramore, dread Lord of Biename?"

"Most true, dear Friar John," answered Melissa, "and by this same token Sir Agramore lieth sore bruised e'en now."

"Aha!" quoth the Friar, mopping moist brow. "'T is well--'t is very well, so shall these two ears of mine, with eighteen others of lesser account, scathless go and all by reason of this good, tall fellow. Howbeit, I do know this same fellow for fellow of none account, and no fit mate for thee, n.o.ble daughter, love or no. A fierce, brawling, tatterdemalion this, that erstwhile tramped in company with long-legged ribald--a froward jesting fellow. Wherefore this fellow, though fellow serviceable, no fellow is for thee and for these sufficing reasons. Firstly--"

"Ha--enough!" quoth Sir Pertinax, chin out-thrust. "'Fellow' me no more, Friar--"

"Firstly," continued Friar John, "because this out-at-elbows fellow is a rogue."

"'Rogue,' in thy teeth, Churchman!" growled Sir Pertinax.

"Secondly," continued Friar John, nothing abashed, "because this rogue-fellow is a runagate roysterer, a nameless knave, a highway-haunter, a filching flick-o'-the-gibbet and a--"

"Friar," snorted Sir Pertinax, "thou 'rt but a very fat man scant o'

breath, moreover thou 'rt a friar, so needs must I leave thee alive to make pestilent the air yet a little until thou chokest of an epithet. Meantime perform now one gracious act in thy so graceless life and wed me with this forest maiden."

"Forest maiden, forsooth!" cried Friar John. "O Saints! O Martyrs! Forest maid, quotha! And wed her--and unto thee, presumptuous malapert! Ho, begone, thy base blood and nameless rank forbid--"

"Hold there, shaveling!" quoth Sir Pertinax, scowling. "Now mark me this!

Though I, being very man, do know myself all unworthy maid so sweet and peerless, yet, and she stoop to wed me, then will I make her lady proud and dame of divers goodly manors and castles, of village and hamlet, pit and gallows, sac and soc, with powers the high, the middle and the low and with ten-score lances in her train. For though in humble guise I went, no nameless rogue am I, but Knight of Shene, Lord of Westover, Framling, Bracton and Deepdene--"

"How!" cried Melissa, pouting rosy lip and frowning a little. "O Pertinax, art indeed a great lord?"

"Why, sooth--forsooth and indeed," he stammered, "I do fear I am."

"Then thou 'rt no poor, distressful, ragged, outlaw-soldier?"