Dame Isabel made answer to neither the one nor the other, but marched
forth of the door with her nose an inch higher than she came in. She
was appointed to the pallet for that night, so we three lay all in our
chamber.
"This passeth!" saith Dame Elizabeth, drying of her fingers, calm
enough, on the napkin.
"Even as I looked for," saith Dame Joan, but her voice was not so calm.
There was in it a note of grief [a tone of indignation].
"_I_ ne'er trouble me to look for nought," quoth Dame Elizabeth. "What
good, trow? Better to leave folks come and go, as they list, so long as
they let [hinder] you not to come and go likewise."
"I knew not you were one of Cain's following, Dame Bess."
"Cain's following!" saith she, drawing off her fillet. "Who was Cain,
trow? Wala wa! but if my fillet be not all tarnished o' this side. I
would things would go right!"
"So would I, and so did not Cain," Dame Joan makes answer. "Who was he,
quotha? Why, he that slew his brother Abel."
"Oh, some of those old Scripture matters? I wis nought o' those folks.
But what so? I have not slain my brother, nor my sister neither."
"It looks as though your brother and your sister too might go astray and
be lost ere you should soil your fingers and strain your arms a-pulling
them forth."
"Gramercy! Every man for himself!" saith Dame Elizabeth, a-pulling off
her hood. "Now, here's a string come off! Alway my luck! If a body
might but bide in peace--"
"And never have no troubles, nor strings come off, nor buttons broke,
nor stitches come loose--" adds Dame Joan, a-laughing.
"Right so--man might have a bit of piece of man's life, then. Why, look
you, the string is all chafen, that it is not worth setting on anew; and
so much as a yard of red ribbon have I not. I must needs don my hood of
green of Louvaine."
She said it in a voice which might have gone with the direst calamity
that could befall.
"Dame Elizabeth de Mohun, you be a full happy woman!"
"What will the woman say next?"
"That somewhat hangeth on what you may next say."
"Well, what I next say is that I am full ill-used to have in one hour a
tarnished fillet and a broken string, and--Saint Lucy love us! here be
two of my buttons gone!"
I could thole no longer, and forth brake I in laughter. Dame Joan
joined with me, and some ado had we to peace Dame Elizabeth, that was
sore grieved by our laughing.
"Will you leave man be?" quoth she. "They be right [real] silver
buttons, and not one more have I of this pattern: I ensure you they cost
me four shillings the dozen at John Fairhair's in London [a London
goldsmith]. I'll be bound I can never match them without I have them
wrought of set purpose. Deary, deary me!"
"Well!" saith Dame Joan, "I may break my heart afore I die, but I count
it will not be over buttons."
"Not o'er your buttons, belike," saith Dame Elizabeth. "And here, this
very day, was Hilda la Vileyne at me, begging and praying me that I
would pay her charges for that hood of scarlet wrought with gold and
pearls the which I had made last year when I was here with the Queen.
Truly, I forgat the same at that time; and now I have not the money to
mine hand. But deary me, the pitiful tale she told!--of her mother ill,
and her two poor little sisters without meet raiment for winter, and
never a bit of food nor fuel in the house--I marvel what maids would be
at, to make up such tales!"
"It was not true, trow?"
"True?" saith Dame Elizabeth, pulling off her rings. "It might be true
as Damascus steel, for aught I know. But what was that to me? I lacked
the money for somewhat that liked me better than to buy fuel for a
parcel of common folks like such. They be used to lack comforts, and
not I. And I hate to hear such stories, belike. Forsooth, man might as
well let down a black curtain over the window on a sunshine day as be
plagued with like tales when he would fain be jolly. I sent her off in
hot haste, I can tell you."
"With the money?"
"The saints be about us! Not I."
"And the little maids may greet them asleep for lack of food?" saith
Dame Joan.
"How wis I there be any such? I dare be bound it was all a made-up tale
to win payment."
"You went not to see?"
"I go to see! I! Dame Joan, you be verily--"
"I am verily one for whom Christ our Lord deigned to die on the bitter
rood, and so is Hilda la Vileyne. Tell me but where she dwelleth, and
_I_ will go to see if the tale be true."
"Good lack! I carry not folks' addresses in mine head o' that fashion.
Let be; she shall be here again in a day or twain. She hath granted me
little peace these last ten days."
"And you verily wis not where she dwelleth?"
"I wis nought thereabout, and an' I did I would never tell you to-night.
Dear heart, do hie you abed and sleep in peace, and let other folks do
the like! I never harry me with other men's troubles. Good even!"
And Dame Elizabeth laid her down and happed the coverlet about her, and
was fast asleep in a few minutes.
The next even, when we came into hall for supper, was Sir Roger de
Mortimer on the dais, looking as though the world belonged to him.
Maybe he thought it was soon to do the same; and therein was he not
deceived. The first day, he sat in his right place, at the high table,
after the knights and barons of France whom the King of France had
appointed to the charge of our Queen: but not many days were over ere he
crept up above them--and then above the bishops themselves, until at
last he sat on the left hand of Queen Isabel, my Lord of Chester being
at her right. But this first night he kept his place.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 1. Neuilly. Queen Isabelle's scribe is responsible for the
orthography in this and subsequent places.
Note 2. The old Palace of the French Kings, the remaining part of which
is now known as the Conciergerie.
Note 3. September 12th.
Note 4. Cakes made with honey. Three pennyworth were served daily at
the royal table.
Note 5. Wardrobe Account, 19 Edward the Second, 25/15.
Note 6. Rheims and Soissons. An idea of the difficulties of travelling
at that time maybe gathered from the entry of "Guides for the Queen
between Paris and Rheims, 18 shillings."
Note 7. The vessel containing the oil wherewith the Kings of France
were anointed, oil and ampulla being fabled to have come from Heaven.
Note 8. 2 pounds 13 shillings 4 pence.--Wardrobe Account, 19 Edward the
Second, 25/15.
Note 9. Gee. This is one of the few words in our tongue directly
derivable from the ancient Britons.
Note 10. "Avice Serueladi" occurs on the Close Roll for 1308.