"No," he replied; "I am not often merry. There was a time when love
and its service kept me in continuous joy, as waters invest a fish. I
woke from a high dream. . . . And then, but for the fear of seeming
cowardly, I would have extinguished my life as men blow out a candle.
Vanity preserved me, sheer vanity!" He shrugged, spreading his hard
lean hands. "Belhs Cavaliers, I grudged my enemies the pleasure of
seeing me forgetful of valor and noble enterprises. And so, since
then, I have served Heaven, in default of you."
"I would not have it otherwise," she said, half as in wonder; "I would
not have you be quite sane like other men. And I believe," she
added--still with her wise smile--"you have derived a deal of comfort,
off and on, from being heart-broken."
He replied gravely: "A man may always, if he will but take the pains,
be tolerably content and rise in worth, and yet dispense with love. He
has only to guard himself against baseness, and concentrate his powers
on doing right. Thus, therefore, when fortune failed me, I persisted
in acting to the best of my ability. Though I had lost my lands and my
loved lady, I must hold fast to my own worth. Without a lady and
without acreage, it was yet in my power to live a cleanly and honorable
life; and I did not wish to make two evils out of one."
"Assuredly, I would not have you be quite sane like other men," she
repeated. "It would seem that you have somehow blundered through long
years, preserving always the ignorance of a child, and the blindness of
a child. I cannot understand how this is possible; nor can I keep from
smiling at your high-flown notions; and yet,--I envy you, Raimbaut."
Thus the afternoon passed, and the rule of Prince Guillaume was made
secure. His supper was worthily appointed, for Guillaume loved color
and music and beauty of every kind, and was on this, the day of his
triumph, in a prodigal humor. Many lackeys in scarlet brought in the
first course, to the sound of exultant drums and pipes, with a blast of
trumpets and a waving of banners, so that all hearts were uplifted, and
Guillaume jested with harsh laughter.
But Raimbaut de Vaquieras was not mirthful, for he was remembering a
boy whom he had known of very long ago. He was swayed by an odd fancy,
as the men sat over their wine, and jongleurs sang and performed tricks
for their diversion, that this boy, so frank and excellent, as yet
existed somewhere; and that the Raimbaut who moved these shriveled
hands before him, on the table there, was only a sad dream of what had
never been. It troubled him, too, to see how grossly these soldiers
ate, for, as a person of refinement, an associate of monarchs, Sire
Raimbaut when the dishes were passed picked up his meats between the
index- and the middle-finger of his left hand, and esteemed it infamous
manners to dip any other fingers into the gravy.
Guillaume had left the Warriors' Hall. Philibert was drunk, and half
the men-at-arms were snoring among the rushes, when at the height of
their festivity Makrisi came. He plucked his master by the sleeve.
A swarthy, bearded Angevin was singing. His song was one of old Sire
Raimbaut's famous canzons in honor of Belhs Cavaliers. The knave was
singing blithely:
_Pus mos Belhs Cavaliers grazitz_
_E joys m'es lunhatz e faiditz,_
_Don no m' venra jamais conortz;_
_Fer qu'ees mayer l'ira e plus fortz--_
The Saracen had said nothing. He showed a jeweled dagger, and the
knight arose and followed him out of that uproarious hall. Raimbaut
was bitterly perturbed, though he did not know for what reason, as
Makrisi led him through dark corridors to the dull-gleaming arras of
Prince Guillaume's apartments. In this corridor was an iron lamp swung
from the ceiling, and now, as this lamp swayed slightly and burned low,
the tiny flame leaped clear of the wick and was extinguished, and
darkness rose about them.