"What, leave the combat out!" exclaimed the knight.
"Yea! or we must renounce the Stagyrite.
So large a crowd the stage will ne'er contain."
--"Then build a new, or act it on a plain."
POPE.
The sounds of the gratulating shout had expanded over the distant
shores of the Bosphorus by mountain and forest, and died at length in
the farthest echoes, when the people, in the silence which ensued,
appeared to ask each other what next scene was about to adorn a pause
so solemn and a stage so august. The pause would probably have soon
given place to some new clamour, for a multitude, from whatever cause
assembled, seldom remains long silent, had not a new signal from the
Varangian trumpet given notice of a fresh purpose to solicit their
attention. The blast had something in its tone spirit-stirring and yet
melancholy, partaking both of the character of a point of war, and of
the doleful sounds which might be chosen to announce an execution of
peculiar solemnity. Its notes were high and widely extended, and
prolonged and long dwelt upon, as if the brazen clamour had been waked
by something more tremendous than the lungs of mere mortals.
The multitude appeared to acknowledge these awful sounds, which were
indeed such as habitually solicited their attention to Imperial edicts,
of melancholy import, by which rebellions were announced, dooms of
treason discharged, and other tidings of a great and affecting import
intimated to the people of Constantinople. When the trumpet had in its
turn ceased, with its thrilling and doleful notes, to agitate the
immense assembly, the voice of the herald again addressed them.
It announced in a grave and affecting strain, that it sometimes chanced
how the people failed in their duty to a sovereign, who was unto them
as a father, and how it became the painful duty of the prince to use
the rod of correction rather than the olive sceptre of mercy.
"Fortunate," continued the herald, "it is, when the supreme Deity
having taken on himself the preservation of a throne, in beneficence
and justice resembling his own, has also assumed the most painful task
of his earthly delegate, by punishing those whom his unerring judgment
acknowledges as most guilty, and leaving to his substitute the more
agreeable task of pardoning such of those as art has misled, and
treachery hath involved in its snares.
"Such being the case, Greece and its accompanying Themes are called
upon to listen and learn that a villain, namely Agelastes, who had
insinuated himself into the favour of the Emperor, by affection of deep
knowledge and severe virtue, had formed a treacherous plan for the
murder of the Emperor Alexius Comnenus, and a revolution in the state.
This person, who, under pretended wisdom, hid the doctrines of a
heretic and the vices of a sensualist, had found proselytes to his
doctrines even among the Emperor's household, and those persons who
were most bound to him, and down to the lower order, to excite the last
of whom were dispersed a multitude of forged rumours, similar to those
concerning Ursol's death and blindness, of which your own eyes have
witnessed the falsehood."
The people, who had hitherto listened in silence, upon this appeal
broke forth in a clamorous assent. They had scarcely been again silent,
ere the iron-voiced herald continued his proclamation.
"Not Korah, Dathan, and Abiram," he said, "had more justly, or more
directly fallen under the doom of an offended Deity, than this villain,
Agelastes. The steadfast earth gaped to devour the apostate sons of
Israel, but the termination of this wretched man's existence has been,
as far as can now be known, by the direct means of an evil spirit, whom
his own arts had evoked into the upper air. By the spirit, as would
appear by the testimony of a noble lady, and other females, who
witnessed the termination of his life, Agelastes was strangled, a fate
well-becoming his odious crimes. Such a death, even of a guilty man,
must, indeed, be most painful to the humane feelings of the Emperor,
because it involves suffering beyond this world. But the awful
catastrophe carries with it this comfort, that it absolves the Emperor
from the necessity of carrying any farther a vengeance which Heaven
itself seems to have limited to the exemplary punishment of the
principal conspirator. Some changes of offices and situations shall be
made, for the sake of safety and good order; but the secret who had or
who had not, been concerned in this awful crime, shall sleep in the
bosoms of the persons themselves implicated, since the Emperor is
determined to dismiss their offence from his memory, as the effect of a
transient delusion. Let all, therefore, who now hear me, whatever
consciousness they may possess of a knowledge of what was this day
intended, return to their houses, assured that their own thoughts will
be their only punishment. Let them rejoice that Almighty goodness has
saved them from the meditations of their own hearts, and, according to
the affecting language of Scripture,--'Let them repent and sin no more,
lest a worse thing befall them.'"
The voice of the herald then ceased, and was again answered by the
shouts of the audience. These were unanimous; for circumstances
contributed to convince the malecontent party that they stood at the
Sovereign's mercy, and the edict that they heard having shown his
acquaintance with their guilt, it lay at his pleasure to let loose upon
them the strength of the Varangians, while, from the terms on which it
had pleased him to receive Tancred, it was probable that the Apuleian
forces were also at his disposal.
The voices, therefore, of the bulky Stephanos, of Harpax the centurion,
and other rebels, both of the camp and city, were the first to thunder
forth their gratitude for the clemency of the Emperor, and their thanks
to Heaven for his preservation.
The audience, reconciled to the thoughts of the discovered and
frustrated conspiracy, began meantime, according to their custom, to
turn themselves to the consideration of the matter which had more
avowedly called them together, and private whispers, swelling by
degrees into murmurs, began to express the dissatisfaction of the
citizens at being thus long assembled, without receiving any
communication respecting the announced purpose of their meeting.
Alexius was not slow to perceive the tendency of their thoughts; and,
on a signal from his hand, the trumpets blew a point of war, in sounds
far more lively than those which had prefaced the Imperial edict.
"Robert, Count of Paris," then said a herald, "art thou here in thy
place, or by knightly proxy, to answer the challenge brought against
thee by his Imperial Highness Nicephorus Briennius, Caesar of this
empire?"
The Emperor conceived himself to have equally provided against the
actual appearance at this call of either of the parties named, and had
prepared an exhibition of another kind, namely, certain cages, tenanted
by wild animals, which being now loosened should do their pleasure with
each other in the eyes of the assembly. His astonishment and confusion,
therefore, were great, when, as the last note of the proclamation died
in the echo, Count Robert of Paris stood forth, armed cap-a-pie, his
mailed charger led behind him from within the curtained enclosure, at
one end of the lists, as if ready to mount at the signal of the marshal.
The alarm and the shame that were visible in every countenance near the
Imperial presence when no Caesar came forth in like fashion to confront
the formidable Frank, were not of long duration. Hardly had the style
and title of the Count of Paris been duly announced by the heralds, and
their second summons of his antagonist uttered in due form, when a
person, dressed like one of the Varangian Guards, sprung into the
lists, and announced himself as ready to do battle in the name and
place of the Caesar Nicephorus Briennius, and for the honour of the
empire.
Alexius, with the utmost joy, beheld this unexpected assistance, and
readily gave his consent to the bold soldier who stood thus forward in
the hour of utmost need, to take upon himself the dangerous office of
champion. He the more readily acquiesced, as, from the size and
appearance of the soldier, and the gallant bearing he displayed, he had
no doubt of his individual person, and fully confided in his valour.
But Prince Tancred interposed his opposition.
"The lists," he said, "were only open to knights and nobles; or, at any
rate, men were not permitted to meet therein who were not of some
equality of birth and blood; nor could he remain a silent witness where
the laws of chivalry are in such respects forgotten."
"Let Count Robert of Paris," said the Varangian, "look upon my
countenance, and say whether he has not, by promise, removed all
objection to our contest which might be founded upon an inequality of
condition, and let him be judge himself, whether, by meeting me in this
field, he will do more than comply with a compact which he has long
since become bound by."
Count Robert, upon this appeal, advanced and acknowledged, without
further debate, that, notwithstanding their difference of rank, he held
himself bound by his solemn word to give this valiant soldier a meeting
in the field. That he regretted, on account of this gallant man's
eminent virtues, and the high services he had received at his hands,
that they should now stand upon terms of such bloody arbitration; but
since nothing was more common, than that the fate of war called on
friends to meet each other in mortal combat, he would not shrink from
the engagement he had pledged himself to; nor did he think his quality
in the slightest degree infringed or diminished, by meeting in battle a
warrior so well known and of such good account as Hereward, the brave
Varangian. He added, that "he willingly admitted that the combat should
take place on foot, and with the battle-axe, which was the ordinary
weapon of the Varangian guard."
Hereward had stood still, almost like a statue, while this discourse
passed; but when the Count of Paris had made this speech, he inclined
himself towards him with a grateful obeisance, and expressed himself
honoured and gratified by the manly manner in which the Count acquitted
himself, according to his promise, with complete honour and fidelity.
"What we are to do," said Count Robert, with a sigh of regret, which
even his love of battle could not prevent, "let us do quickly; the
heart may be affected, but the hand must do its duty."
Hereward assented, with the additional remark, "Let us then lose no
more time, which is already flying fast." And, grasping his axe, he
stood prepared for combat.
"I also am ready," said Count Robert of Paris, taking the same weapon
from a Varangian soldier, who stood by the lists. Both were immediately
upon the alert, nor did further forms or circumstances put off the
intended duel.
The first blows were given and parried with great caution, and Prince
Tancred and others thought that on the part of Count Robert the caution
was much greater than usual; but, in combat as in food, the appetite
increases with the exercise. The fiercer passions began, as usual, to
awaken with the clash of arms and the sense of deadly blows, some of
which were made with great fury on either side, and parried with
considerable difficulty, and not so completely but that blood flowed on
both their parts. The Greeks looked with astonishment on a single
combat, such as they had seldom witnessed, and held their breath as
they beheld the furious blows dealt by either warrior, and expected
with each stroke the annihilation of one or other of the combatants. As
yet their strength and agility seemed somewhat equally matched,
although those who judged with more pretension to knowledge, were of
opinion, that Count Robert spared putting forth some part of the
military skill for which he was celebrated; and the remark was
generally made and allowed that he had surrendered a great advantage by
not insisting upon his right to fight upon horseback. On the other
hand, it was the general opinion that the gallant Varangian omitted to
take advantage of one or two opportunities afforded him by the heat of
Count Robert's temper, who obviously was incensed at the duration of
the combat.
Accident at length seemed about to decide what had been hitherto an
equal contest. Count Robert, making a feint on one side of his
antagonist, struck him on the other, which was uncovered, with the edge
of his weapon, so that the Varangian reeled, and seemed in the act of
falling to the earth. The usual sound made by spectators at the sight
of any painful or unpleasant circumstance, by drawing the breath
between the teeth, was suddenly heard to pass through the assembly,
while a female voice loud and eagerly exclaimed,--"Count Robert of
Paris!--forget not this day that thou owest a life to Heaven and me."
The Count was in the act of again seconding his blow, with what effect
could hardly be judged, when this cry reached his ears, and apparently
took away his disposition for farther combat.
"I acknowledge the debt," he said, sinking his battle-axe, and
retreating two steps from his antagonist, who stood in astonishment,
scarcely recovered from the stunning effect of the blow by which he was
so nearly prostrated. He sank the blade of his battle-axe in imitation
of his antagonist, and seemed to wait in suspense what was to be the
next process of the combat. "I acknowledge my debt," said the valiant
Count of Paris, "alike to Bertha of Britain and to the Almighty, who
has preserved me from the crime of ungrateful blood-guiltiness.--You
have seen the fight, gentlemen," turning to Tancred and his chivalry,
"and can testify, on your honour, that it has been maintained fairly on
both sides, and without advantage on either. I presume my honourable
antagonist has by this time satisfied the desire which brought me under
his challenge, and which certainly had no taste in it of personal or
private quarrel. On my part, I retain towards him such a sense of
personal obligation as would render my continuing this combat, unless
compelled to it by self-defence, a shameful and sinful action."
Alexius gladly embraced the terms of truce, which he was far from
expecting, and threw down his warder, in signal that the duel was
ended. Tancred, though somewhat surprised, and perhaps even
scandalized, that a private soldier of the Emperor's guard should have
so long resisted the utmost efforts of so approved a knight, could not
but own that the combat had been fought with perfect fairness and
equality, and decided upon terms dishonourable to neither party. The
Count's character being well known and established amongst the
crusaders, they were compelled to believe that some motive of a most
potent nature formed the principle upon which, very contrary to his
general practice, he had proposed a cessation of the combat before it
was brought to a deadly, or at least to a decisive conclusion. The
edict of the Emperor upon the occasion, therefore, passed into a law,
acknowledged by the assent of the chiefs present, and especially
affirmed and gratulated by the shouts of the assembled spectators.
But perhaps the most interesting figure in the assembly was that of the
bold Varangian, arrived so suddenly at a promotion of military renown,
which the extreme difficulty he had experienced in keeping his ground
against Count Robert had prevented him from anticipating, although his
modesty had not diminished the indomitable courage with which he
maintained the contest. He stood in the middle of the lists, his face
ruddy with the exertion of the combat, and not less so from the modest
consciousness proper to the plainness and simplicity of his character,
which was disconcerted by finding himself the central point of the gaze
of the multitude.
"Speak to me, my soldier," said Alexius, strongly affected by the
gratitude which he felt was due to Hereward upon so singular an
occasion, "speak to thine Emperor as his superior, for such thou art at
this moment, and tell him if there is any manner, even at the expense
of half his kingdom, to atone for his own life saved, and, what is yet
dearer, for the honour of his country, which thou hast so manfully
defended and preserved?"
"My Lord," answered Hereward, "your Imperial Highness values my poor
services over highly, and ought to attribute them to the noble Count of
Paris, first, for his condescending to accept of an antagonist so mean
in quality as myself; and next, in generously relinquishing victory
when he might have achieved it by an additional blow; for I here
confess before your Majesty, my brethren, and the assembled Grecians,
that my power of protracting the combat was ended, when the gallant
Count, by his generosity, put a stop to it."
"Do not thyself that wrong, brave man," said Count Robert; "for I vow
to our Lady of the Broken Lances, that the combat was yet within the
undetermined doom of Providence, when the pressure of my own feelings
rendered me incapable of continuing it, to the necessary harm, perhaps
to the mortal damage, of an antagonist to whom I owe so much kindness.
Choose, therefore, the recompense which the generosity of thy Emperor
offers in a manner so just and grateful, and fear not lest mortal voice
pronounces that reward unmerited which Robert of Paris shall avouch
with his sword to have been gallantly won upon his own crest."
"You are too great, my lord, and too noble," answered the Anglo-Saxon,
"to be gainsaid by such as I am, and I must not awaken new strife
between us by contesting the circumstances under which our combat so
suddenly closed, nor would it be wise or prudent in me further to
contradict you. My noble Emperor generously offers me the right of
naming what he calls my recompense; but let not his generosity be
dispraised, although it is from you, my lord, and not from his Imperial
Highness, that I am to ask a boon, to me the dearest to which my voice
can give utterance."
"And that," said the Count, "has reference to Bertha, the faithful
attendant of my wife?"
"Even so," said Hereward; "it is my proposal to request my discharge
from the Varangian guard, and permission to share in your lordship's
pious and honourable vow for the recovery of Palestine, with liberty to
fight under your honoured banner, and permission from time to time to
recommend my love-suit to Bertha, the attendant of the Countess of
Paris, and the hope that it may find favour in the eyes of her noble
lord and lady. I may thus finally hope to be restored to a country,
which I have never ceased to love over the rest of the world."
"Thy service, noble soldier," said the Count, "shall be as acceptable
to me as that of a born earl; nor is there an opportunity of acquiring
honour which I can shape for thee, to which, as it occurs, I will not
gladly prefer thee. I will not boast of what interest I have with the
King of England, but something I can do with him, and it shall be
strained to the uttermost to settle thee in thine own beloved native
country."
The Emperor then spoke. "Bear witness, heaven and earth, and you my
faithful subjects, and you my gallant allies; above all, you my bold
and true Varangian Guard, that we would rather have lost the brightest
jewel from our Imperial crown, than have relinquished the service of
this true and faithful Anglo-Saxon. But since go he must and will, it
shall be my study to distinguish him by such marks of beneficence as
may make it known through his future life, that he is the person to
whom the Emperor Alexius Comnenus acknowledged a debt larger than his
empire could discharge. You, my Lord Tancred, and your principal
leaders, will sup with us this evening, and to-morrow resume your
honourable and religious purpose of pilgrimage. We trust both the
combatants will also oblige us by their presence.--Trumpets, give the
signal for dismission."
The trumpets sounded accordingly, and the different classes of
spectators, armed and unarmed, broke up into various parties, or formed
into their military ranks, for the purpose of their return to the city.
The screams of women suddenly and strangely raised, was the first thing
that arrested the departure of the multitude, when those who glanced
their eyes back, saw Sylvan, the great ourang-outang, produce himself
in the lists, to their surprise and astonishment. The women, and many
of the men who were present, unaccustomed to the ghastly look and
savage appearance of a creature so extraordinary, raised a yell of
terror so loud, that it discomposed the animal who was the occasion of
its being raised. Sylvan, in the course of the night, having escaped
over the garden-wall of Agelastes, and clambered over the rampart of
the city, found no difficulty in hiding himself in the lists which were
in the act of being raised, having found a lurking-place in some dark
corner under the seats of the spectators. From this he was probably
dislodged by the tumult of the dispersing multitude, and had been
compelled, therefore, to make an appearance in public when he least
desired it, not unlike that of the celebrated Puliccinello, at the
conclusion of his own drama, when he enters in mortal strife with the
foul fiend himself, a scene which scarcely excites more terror among
the juvenile audience, than did the unexpected apparition of Sylvan
among the spectators of the duel. Bows were bent, and javelins pointed
by the braver part of the soldiery, against an animal of an appearance
so ambiguous, and whom his uncommon size and grizzly look caused most
who beheld him to suppose either the devil himself, or the apparition
of some fiendish deity of ancient days, whom the heathens worshipped.
Sylvan had so far improved such opportunities as had been afforded him,
as to become sufficiently aware that the attitudes assumed by so many
military men, inferred immediate danger to his person, from which he
hastened to shelter himself by flying to the protection of Hereward,
with whom he had been in some degree familiarized. He seized him,
accordingly, by the cloak, and, by the absurd and alarmed look of his
fantastic features, and a certain wild and gibbering chatter,
endeavoured to express his fear and to ask protection. Hereward
understood the terrified creature, and turning to the Emperor's throne,
said aloud,--"Poor frightened being, turn thy petition, and gestures,
and tones, to a quarter which, having to-day pardoned so many offences
which were wilfully and maliciously schemed, will not be, I am sure,
obdurate to such as thou, in thy half-reasoning capacity, may have been
capable of committing."
The creature, as is the nature of its tribe, caught from Hereward
himself the mode of applying with most effect his gestures and pitiable
supplication, while the Emperor, notwithstanding the serious scene
which had just past, could not help laughing at the touch of comedy
flung into it by this last incident.
"My trusty Hereward,"--he said aside, ("I will not again call him
Edward if I can help it)--thou art the refuge of the distressed,
whether it be man or beast, and nothing that sues through thy
intercession, while thou remainest in our service, shall find its
supplication in vain. Do thou, good Hereward," for the name was now
pretty well established in his Imperial memory, "and such of thy
companions as know the habits of the creature, lead him back to his old
quarters in the Blacquernal; and that done, my friend, observe that we
request thy company, and that of thy faithful mate Bertha, to partake
supper at our court, with our wife and daughter, and such of our
servants and allies as we shall request to share the same honour. Be
assured, that while thou remainest with us, there is no point of
dignity which shall not be willingly paid to thee.--And do thou
approach, Achilles Tatius, as much favoured by thine Emperor as before
this day dawned. What charges are against thee have been only whispered
in a friendly ear, which remembers them not, unless (which Heaven
forefend!) their remembrance is renewed by fresh offences."
Achilles Tatius bowed till the plume of his helmet mingled with the
mane of his fiery horse, but held it wisest to forbear any answer in
words, leaving his crime and his pardon to stand upon those general
terms in which the Emperor had expressed them.
Once more the multitude of all ranks returned on their way to the city,
nor did any second interruption arrest their march. Sylvan, accompanied
by one or two Varangians, who led him in a sort of captivity, took his
way to the vaults of the Blacquernal, which were in fact his proper
habitation.
Upon the road to the city, Harpax, the notorious corporal of the
Immortal Guards, held a discourse with one or two of his own soldiers,
and of the citizens who had been members of the late conspiracy.
"So," said Stephanos, the prize-fighter, "a fine affair we have made of
it, to suffer ourselves to be all anticipated and betrayed by a
thick-sculled Varangian; every chance turning against us as they would
against Corydon, the shoemaker, if he were to defy me to the circus.
Ursel, whose death made so much work, turns out not to be dead after
all; and what is worse, he lives not to our advantage. This fellow
Hereward, who was yesterday no better than myself--What do I
say?--better!--he was a great deal worse--an insignificant nobody in
every respect!--is now crammed with honours, praises, and gifts, till
he wellnigh returns what they have given him, and the Caesar and the
Acolyte, our associates, have lost the Emperor's love and confidence,
and if they are suffered to survive, it must be like the tame domestic
poultry, whom we pamper with food, one day, that upon the next their
necks may be twisted for spit or spot."
"Stephanos," replied the centurion, "thy form of body fits thee well
for the Palaestra, but thy mind is not so acutely formed as to detect
that which is real from that which is only probable, in the political
world, of which thou art now judging. Considering the risk incurred by
lending a man's ear to a conspiracy, thou oughtest to reckon it a
saving in every particular, where he escapes with his life and
character safe. This has been the case with Achilles Tatius, and with
the Caesar. They have remained also in their high places of trust and
power, and maybe confident that the Emperor will hardly dare to remove
them at a future period, since the possession of the full knowledge of
their guilt has not emboldened him to do so. Their power, thus left
with them, is in fact ours; nor is there a circumstance to be supposed,
which can induce them to betray their confederates to the government.
It is much more likely that they will remember them with the
probability of renewing, at a finer time, the alliance which binds them
together. Cheer up thy noble resolution, therefore, my Prince of the
Circus, and think that thou shalt still retain that predominant
influence which the favourites of the amphitheatre are sure to possess
over the citizens of Constantinople."
"I cannot tell," answered Stephanos; "but it gnaws at my heart like the
worm that dieth not, to see this beggarly foreigner betray the noblest
blood in the land, not to mention the best athlete in the Palaestra,
and move off not only without punishment for his treachery, but with
praise, honour, and preferment."
"True," said Harpax; "but observe, my friend, that he does move off to
purpose. He leaves the land, quits the corps in which he might claim
preferment and a few vain honours, being valued at what such trifles
amount to. Hereward, in the course of one or two days, shall be little
better than a disbanded soldier, subsisting by the poor bread which he
can obtain as a follower of this beggarly Count, or which he is rather
bound to dispute with the infidel, by encountering with his battle-axe
the Turkish sabres. What will it avail him amidst the disasters, the
slaughter, and the famine of Palestine, that he once upon a time was
admitted to supper with the Emperor? We know Alexius Comnenus---he is
willing to discharge, at the highest cost, such obligations as are
incurred to men like this Hereward; and, believe me, I think that I see
the wily despot shrug his shoulders in derision, when one morning he is
saluted with the news of a battle in Palestine lost by the crusaders in
which his old acquaintance has fallen a dead man. I will not insult
thee, by telling thee how easy it might be to acquire the favour of a
gentlewoman in waiting upon a lady of quality; nor do I think it would
be difficult, should that be the object of the prize-fighter, to
acquire the property of a large baboon like Sylvan, which no doubt
would set up as a juggler any Frank who had meanness of spirit to
propose to gain his bread in such a capacity, from the alms of the
starving chivalry of Europe. But he who can stoop to envy the lot of
such a person, ought not to be one whose chief personal distinctions
are sufficient to place him first in rank over all the favourites of
the amphitheatre."
There was something in this sophistical kind of reasoning, which was
but half satisfactory to the obtuse intellect of the prize-fighter, to
whom it was addressed, although the only answer which he attempted was
couched in this observation:--
"Ay, but, noble centurion, you forget that, besides empty honours, this
Varangian Hereward, or Edward, whichever is his name, is promised a
mighty donative of gold."
"Marry, you touch me there," said the centurion; "and when you tell me
that the promise is fulfilled, I will willingly agree that the
Anglo-Saxon hath gained something to be envied for; but while it
remains in the shape of a naked promise, you shall pardon me, my worthy
Stephanos, if I hold it of no more account than the mere pledges which
are distributed among ourselves as well as to the Varangians, promising
upon future occasions mints of money, which we are likely to receive at
the same time with the last year's snow. Keep up your heart, therefore,
noble Stephanos, and believe not that your affairs are worse for the
miscarriage of this day; and let not thy gallant courage sink, but
remembering those principles upon which it was called into action,
believe that thy objects are not the less secure because fate has
removed their acquisition to a more distant day." The veteran and
unbending conspirator, Harpax, thus strengthened for some future
renewal of their enterprise the failing spirits of Stephanos.
After this, such leaders as were included in the invitation given by
the Emperor, repaired to the evening meal, and, from the general
content and complaisance expressed by Alexius and his guests of every
description, it could little have been supposed that the day just
passed over was one which had inferred a purpose so dangerous and
treacherous.
The absence of the Countess Brenhilda, during this eventful day,
created no small surprise to the Emperor and those in his immediate
confidence, who knew her enterprising spirit, and the interest she must
have felt in the issue of the combat. Bertha had made an early
communication to the Count, that his lady, agitated with the many
anxieties of the few preceding days, was unable to leave her apartment.
The valiant knight, therefore, lost no time in acquainting his faithful
Countess of his safety; and afterwards joining those who partook of the
banquet at the palace, he bore himself as if the least recollection did
not remain on his mind of the perfidious conduct of the Emperor at the
conclusion of the last entertainment. He knew, in truth, that the
knights of Prince Tancred not only maintained a strict watch round the
house where Brenhilda remained, but also that they preserved a severe
ward in the neighbourhood of the Blacquernal, as well for the safety of
their heroic leader, as for that of Count Robert, the respected
companion of their military pilgrimage.
It was the general principle of the European chivalry, that distrust
was rarely permitted to survive open quarrels, and that whatever was
forgiven, was dismissed from their recollection, as unlikely to recur;
but on the present occasion there was a more than usual assemblage of
troops, which the occurrences of the day had drawn together, so that
the crusaders were called upon to be particularly watchful.
It may be believed that the evening passed over without any attempt to
renew the ceremonial in the council chamber of the Lions, which had
been upon a former occasion terminated in such misunderstanding. Indeed
it would have been lucky if the explanation between the mighty Emperor
of Greece and the chivalrous Knight of Paris had taken place earlier;
for reflection on what had passed, had convinced the Emperor that the
Franks were not a people to be imposed upon by pieces of clockwork, and
similar trifles, and that what they did not understand, was sure,
instead of procuring their awe or admiration, to excite their anger and
defiance. Nor had it altogether escaped Count Robert, that the manners
of the Eastern people were upon a different scale from those to which
he had been accustomed; that they neither were so deeply affected by
the spirit of chivalry, nor, in his own language, was the worship of
the Lady of the Broken Lances so congenial a subject of adoration. This
notwithstanding, Count Robert observed, that Alexius Comnenus was a
wise and politic prince; his wisdom perhaps too much allied to cunning,
but yet aiding him to maintain with great address that empire over the
minds of his subjects, which was necessary for their good, and for
maintaining his own authority. He therefore resolved to receive with
equanimity whatever should be offered by the Emperor, either in
civility or in the way of jest, and not again to disturb an
understanding which might be of advantage to Christendom, by a quarrel
founded upon misconception of terms or misapprehension of manners. To
this prudent resolution the Count of Paris adhered during the whole
evening; with some difficulty, however, since it was somewhat
inconsistent with his own fiery and inquisitive temper, which was
equally desirous to know the precise amount of whatever was addressed
to him, and to take umbrage at it, should it appear in the least degree
offensive, whether so intended or not.