And his followers cried, as upon a signal: "Hail, Prince of Orange!"

It was so like the wonder-working of a dream--this sudden and heroic

uproar--that old Raimbaut de Vaquieras stood reeling, near to intimacy

with fear for the first time. He waited thus, with both hands pressed

before his eyes. He waited thus for a long while, because he was not

used to find chance dealing kindlily with him. Later he saw that

Makrisi had vanished in the tumult, and that many people awaited his

speaking.

The lord of Venaissin began: "You have done me a great service, Messire

de Vemoil. As recompense, I give you what I may. I freely yield you

all my right in Venaissin. Oh no, kingcraft is not for me. I daily

see and hear of battles won, cities beleaguered, high towers

overthrown, and ancient citadels and new walls leveled with the dust.

I have conversed with many kings, the directors of these events, and

they were not happy people. Yes, yes, I have witnessed divers

happenings, for I am old. . . . I have found nothing which can serve

me in place of honor."

He turned to Dona Biatritz. It was as if they were alone. "Belhs

Cavaliers," he said, "I had sworn fealty to this Guillaume. He

violated his obligations; but that did not free me of mine. An oath is

an oath. I was, and am to-day, sworn to support his cause, and to

profit in any fashion by its overthrow would be an abominable action.

Nay, more, were any of his adherents alive it would be my manifest duty

to join them against our preserver, Messire de Vernoil. This necessity

is very happily spared me. I cannot, though, in honor hold any fief

under the supplanter of my liege-lord. I must, therefore, relinquish

Vaquieras and take eternal leave of Venaissin. I will not lose the

right to call myself your servant!" he cried out--"and that which is

noblest in the world must be served fittingly. And so, Belhs

Cavaliers, let us touch palms and bid farewell, and never in this life

speak face to face of trivial happenings which we two alone remember.

For naked of lands and gear I came to you--a prince's daughter--very

long ago, and as nakedly I now depart, so that I may retain the right

to say, 'All my life long I served my love of her according to my

abilities, wholeheartedly and with clean hands.'"

"Yes, yes! you must depart from Venaissin," said Dona Biatritz. A

capable woman, she had no sympathy with his exquisite points of honor,

and yet loved him all the more because of what seemed to her his

surpassing folly. She smiled, somewhat as mothers do in humoring an

unreasonable boy. "We will go to my nephew's court at Montferrat," she

said. "He will willingly provide for his old aunt and her husband.

And you may still make verses--at Montferrat, where we lived verses,

once, Raimbaut."

Now they gazed full upon each other. Thus they stayed, transfigured,

neither seeming old. Each had forgotten that unhappiness existed

anywhere in the whole world. The armored, blood-stained men about them

were of no more importance than were those wantons in the tapestry.

Without, dawn throbbed in heaven. Without, innumerable birds were

raising that glad, piercing, hurried morning-song which very anciently

caused Adam's primal waking, to behold his mate.

The Certain Hour (Dizain des Poëtes) · 第 25 / 50 题