The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 45

Ha, there soundeth the mustering note, so must we away and I sing no further, which is well, for 'comely' is an ill word to rhyme with. Howbeit here must I, beginning my song o' Robin, of beginning must Rob make an end, for duty calleth Sir Robert, so must Robin away."

Hereupon he clapped horn to lip at which shrill summons came archers and pikemen ranked very orderly about a fair horse-litter. But Yolande coming radiant from the bower and espying the litter, shook her head. Quoth she:

"An thou go afoot, Joconde, so will I."

The sun was low when they came before the walls of Ca.n.a.lise, and pa.s.sing beneath grim portcullis and through frowning gateway, with ring and tramp, crossed the wide market square a-throng with jostling townsfolk, who laughed and pointed, cheered and hooted, staring amain at Jocelyn in his threadbare motley; but Yolande, fronting all eyes with proud head aloft, drew nearer and held his hand in firmer clasp.

Thus they came at last to the great courtyard before the palace, bright with the glitter of steel, where men-at-arms stood mustered. Here Robin halted his company, whereon rose the silvery note of a clarion, and forth paced the dignified Chief Herald, who spake him full-toned and sonorous:

"In the name of our potent Duke Pertinax and his gracious lady Benedicta, I greet thee well, Sir Robert-a-Forest. Now whom bring ye here? p.r.o.nounce!"

"Dan Merriment, Sir Gravity," answered Robin, "a Fool valiant and wise, a maker of songs, of quips and quiddities many and jocund, Joconde hight. Sir Wisdom, Folly behold, himself here _in propria persona_."

The Chief Herald gestured haughtily with his wand whereupon forth stepped a file of soldiers and surrounded Jocelyn.

"Ah, Joconde! What meaneth this?" said Yolande, in troubled voice.

"Indeed, my lady, I know not!" he answered. "But let not thy brave heart fail thee."

"Ah, Joconde, I fear for thee--whither would they lead thee? Nay, sweet heaven, they shall not take thee from me!"

"Fear not, beloved, though they part us awhile."

"Away with the Motley!" thundered the Chief Herald, flouris.h.i.+ng his wand.

"Yolande--O my beloved, fear not--" But even as he spake, the pikemen closed in, and Jocelyn was hustled away; so stood she trembling, hands clasped and eyes wide and fearful, until tall motley figure and flaunting c.o.c.k's-comb were lost to her sight and the jingle of his bells had died away; then, finding herself alone and all men's eyes upon her, she lifted bowed head and stood white-cheeked and proudly patient, waiting for what might betide.

And presently was distant stir that, growing nearer, swelled to the ring and clash of armour and the trampling of many hoofs; and presently through the great gateway rode many knights sumptuously caparisoned, their s.h.i.+elds brave with gilded 'scutcheons, pennon and bannerole a-flutter above nodding plumes, and over all the Red Raven banner of Brocelaunde. So rode they two-and-two until the great courtyard blazed with flas.h.i.+ng steel and broidered surcoats. And now a trumpet blared, and forth before this glorious array a pursuivant rode and halted to behold Pertinax, who stepped forth of the great banqueting-hall leading his fair d.u.c.h.ess by the hand, and behind them courtiers and ladies attendant.

Once again the trumpets rang, and lifting his hand, the pursuivant spake:

"My Lord Duke Pertinax, most gracious d.u.c.h.ess, Jocelyn the high and mighty Lord Duke of Brocelaunde greeteth you in all love and amity, and hither rideth to claim a fair lady to wife. Behold our Lord Duke Jocelyn!"

Loud and long the trumpets blew as into the courtyard rode a single horseman; tall was he and bedight in plain black armour and white surcoat whereon the Red Raven glowed; but his face was hid in vizored helm. So rode he through his glorious array of knights, checking his fiery steed to gentle gait with practised hand, while thus spake the pursuivant:

"Behold here Jocelyn, Duke of Brocelaunde, to claim this day in marriage the Lady Yolande according to her word."

"Stay, my lords!" cried a sweet, clear voice, and forth before them all stood Yolande herself, pale-cheeked but stately of bearing and very bright of eye.

"Be it known to all here that I, Yolande, have given neither pledge nor troth unto Duke Jocelyn--"

Now here was silence sudden and profound that none dared break saving only the haughty Chief Herald.

"How lady, how," quoth he, "no pledge, no troth, quotha--"

"Neither one nor other, messire, nor shall there ever be--"

"Here is madness, lady, madness--"

"Here is truth, messire, truth; I may not pledge my troth with Duke Jocelyn since I have this day pledged myself unto Duke Jocelyn's jester--"

"Jester, lady, jester? Venus aid us--Cupid s.h.i.+eld us! A jester, a Fool, a motley mountebank, a--"

"Aye!" cried Yolande. "All this is he, my lords. Very humble and lowly--yet do I love him! Oh, 'tis joy--'tis joy to thus confess my love--his cap and bells and motley livery are fairer to me than velvet mantle or knightly armour; he is but humble jester, a Fool for men's scorn or laughter, yet is he a man, so do I love him and so am I his--unto the end. My lords, I have no more to say save this--give me my jester--this man I love--and suffer us to go forth hand in hand together, even as we came."

The d.u.c.h.ess Benedicta uttered a soft, glad cry, and seizing her husband's arm, shook it for very joy. But now, as Yolande fronted them all, pale and proudly defiant, was the ring of a mailed foot, and turning, she shrank trembling to see Duke Jocelyn hasting toward her, his black armour glinting, his embroidered surcoat fluttering, his long arms outstretched to her; thus quick-striding he came but, even as she put out shaking hands to stay him, he fell upon his knee before her.

"Most brave and n.o.ble lady--beloved Yolande," he cried, and lifted his vizor. Now beholding the scarred face of him, the tender, smiling lips, the adoration in his grey eyes, she trembled amain and, swaying to him, rested her hands on his mailed shoulders.

"Joconde," she whispered, "ah, Joconde--what dream is this?"

"Nay, beloved, the dream is ended and findeth me here at thy feet. The dream is past and we do wake at last, for thy motley Fool, thy Duke and lover am I, yet lover most of all. And thou who in thy divine mercy stooped to love the Fool, by that same love shalt thou lift Duke Jocelyn up to thee and heaven at last. And Oh, methinks the memory of thy so great and n.o.ble love shall be a memory fragrant everlastingly."

So speaking, Duke Jocelyn rose, and with her hand fast in his, looked from her loveliness round about him, blithe of eye.

"My lords," cried he, "behold my well-beloved, brave-hearted lady. n.o.bles of Brocelaunde, salute your d.u.c.h.ess Yolande."

Hereupon was shout on shout of joyous acclaim, lost all at once in the sweet, glad clamour of bells pealing near and far; so, hand in hand, while the air thrilled with this merry riot, they crossed the wide courtyard, and she flushed 'neath the wors.h.i.+p of his look and he thrilled to the close, warm pressure of her fingers--thus walked they betwixt the ranks of men-at-arms and glittering chivalry, yet saw them not.

But now Yolande was aware of Benedicta's arms about her and Benedicta's voice in her ear.

"Dear my Yolande, so True-love hath found thee at last since thou wert brave indeed and worthy. Come now and let me deck thee to thy bridal."

"Lord Duke," quoth Pertinax, "here methinks was notable, worthy wooing."

"Aha!" quoth Mopsa the Witch, crackling her knuckle-bones. "Here, my children, is wooing that some fool shall strive to tell tale of some day, mayhap; but such love is beyond words and not to be told. Thus by cunning contrivement hath Mopsa the old Witch proved the true from the false, the gold from the dross; thou, my lady, hast proved thy love indeed, and thou, Lord Duke, may nevermore doubt such love. And now away and wed each other to love's fulfilment--hark where the bells do summon ye."

And thus, as evening fell, they were wed within the great Minster of Ca.n.a.lise, and thereafter came they to the banqueting-hall with retinue of knights and n.o.bles. Last of all strode Robin with his foresters, and as they marched he sang a song he had learned of Jocelyn, and these the words:

"What is love? 'Tis this, I say, Flower that springeth in a day, Ne'er to die or fade away, Since True-love dieth never.

"Though youth alas! too soon shall wane, Though friend prove false and effort vain, True-love all changeless shall remain The same to-day and ever."

THE END