CHAPTER IX.

THE GREAT ACTOR RETURNS TO FILL THE STAGE.

And now in various groups these summer foresters were at rest in their

afternoon banquet,--some lying on the smooth sward around the lake,

some in the tents, some again in the arbours; here and there the forms

of dame and cavalier might be seen, stealing apart from the rest, and

gliding down the alleys till lost in the shade, for under that reign

gallantry was universal. Before the king's pavilion a band of those

merry jongleurs, into whom the ancient and honoured minstrels were

fast degenerating, stood waiting for the signal to commence their

sports, and listening to the laughter that came in frequent peals from

the royal tent. Within feasted Edward, the Count de la Roche, the

Lord Rivers; while in a larger and more splendid pavilion at some

little distance, the queen, her mother, and the great dames of the

court held their own slighter and less noisy repast.

"And here, then," said Edward, as he put his lips to a gold goblet,

wrought with gems, and passed it to Anthony the Bastard,--"here,

count, we take the first wassail to the loves of Charolois and

Margaret!"

The count drained the goblet, and the wine gave him new fire.

"And with those loves, king," said he, "we bind forever Burgundy and

England. Woe to France!"

"Ay, woe to France!" exclaimed Edward, his face lighting up with that

martial joy which it ever took at the thoughts of war,--"for we will

wrench her lands from this huckster Louis. By Heaven! I shall not

rest in peace till York hath regained what Lancaster hath lost! and

out of the parings of the realm which I will add to England thy

brother of Burgundy shall have eno' to change his duke's diadem for a

king's. How now, Rivers? Thou gloomest, father mine."

"My liege," said Rivers, wakening himself, "I did but think that if

the Earl of Warwick--"

"Ah, I had forgotten," interrupted Edward; "and, sooth to say, Count

Anthony, I think if the earl were by, he would not much mend our boon-

fellowship!"

"Yet a good subject," said De la Roche, sneeringly, "usually dresses

his face by that of his king."

"A subject! Ay, but Warwick is much such a subject to England as

William of Normandy or Duke Rollo was to France. Howbeit, let him

come,--our realm is at peace, we want no more his battle-axe; and in

our new designs on France, thy brother, bold count, is an ally that

might compensate for a greater loss than a sullen minister. Let him

come!"

As the king spoke, there was heard gently upon the smooth turf the

sound of the hoofs of steeds. A moment more, and from the outskirts

of the scene of revel, where the king's guards were stationed, there

arose a long, loud shout. Nearer and nearer came the hoofs of the

steeds; they paused. Doubtless Richard of Gloucester by that shout!

"The soldiers love that brave boy," said the king.

Marmaduke Nevile, as gentleman in waiting, drew aside the curtain of

the pavilion; and as he uttered a name that paled the cheeks of all

who heard, the Earl of Warwick entered the royal presence.

The earl's dress was disordered and soiled by travel; the black plume

on his cap was broken, and hung darkly over his face; his horseman's

boots, coming half way up the thigh, were sullied with the dust of the

journey; and yet as he entered, before the majesty of his mien, the

grandeur of his stature, suddenly De Roche, Rivers, even the gorgeous

Edward himself, seemed dwarfed into common men! About the man--his

air, his eye, his form, his attitude--there was THAT which, in the

earlier times, made kings by the acclamation of the crowd,--an

unmistakable sovereignty, as of one whom Nature herself had shaped and

stamped for power and for rule. All three had risen as he entered;

and to a deep silence succeeded an exclamation from Edward, and then

again all was still.

The earl stood a second or two calmly gazing on the effect he had

produced; and turning his dark eye from one to the other, till it

rested full upon De la Roche, who, after vainly striving not to quail

beneath the gaze, finally smiled with affected disdain, and, resting

his hand on his dagger, sank back into his seat.

"My liege," then said Warwick, doffing his cap, and approaching the

king with slow and grave respect, "I crave pardon for presenting

myself to your Highness thus travel-worn and disordered; but I

announce that news which insures my welcome. The solemn embassy of

trust committed to me by your Grace has prospered with God's blessing;

and the Fils de Bourbon and the Archbishop of Narbonne are on their

way to your metropolis. Alliance between the two great monarchies of

Europe is concluded on terms that insure the weal of England and

augment the lustre of your crown. Your claims on Normandy and Guienne

King Louis consents to submit to the arbitrement of the Roman Pontiff,

[The Pope, moreover, was to be engaged to decide the question within

four years. A more brilliant treaty for England, Edward's ambassador

could not have effected.] and to pay to your treasury annual tribute;

these advantages, greater than your Highness even empowered me to

demand, thus obtained, the royal brother of your new ally joyfully

awaits the hand of the Lady Margaret."

"Cousin," said Edward, who had thoroughly recovered himself, motioning

the earl to a seat, "you are ever welcome, no matter what your news;

but I marvel much that so deft a statesman should broach these matters

of council in the unseasonable hour and before the gay comrades of a

revel."

"I speak, sire," said Warwick, calmly, though the veins in his

forehead swelled, and his dark countenance was much flushed--"I speak

openly of that which hath been done nobly; and this truth has ceased

to be matter of council, since the meanest citizen who has ears and

eyes ere this must know for what purpose the ambassadors of King Louis

arrive in England with your Highness's representative."

Edward, more embarrassed at this tone than he could have foreseen,

remained silent; but De la Roche, impatient to humble his brother's

foe, and judging it also discreet to arouse the king, said

carelessly,--

"It were a pity, Sir Earl, that the citizens, whom you thus deem privy

to the thoughts of kings, had not prevised the Archbishop of Narbonne

that if he desire to see a fairer show than even the palaces of

Westminster and the Tower, he will hasten back to behold the banners

of Burgundy and England waving from the spires of Notre Dame."

Ere the Bastard had concluded, Rivers, leaning back, whispered the

king, "For Christ's sake, sire, select some fitter scene for what must

follow! Silence your guest!"

But Edward, on the contrary, pleased to think that De la Roche was

breaking the ice, and hopeful that some burst from Warwick would give

him more excuse than he felt at present for a rupture, said sternly,

"Hush, my lord, and meddle not!"

"Unless I mistake," said Warwick, coldly, "he who now accosts me is

the Count de la Roche,--a foreigner."

"And the brother of the heir of Burgundy," interrupted De la Roche,--

"brother to the betrothed and princely spouse of Margaret of England."

"Doth this man lie, sire?" said Warwick, who had seated himself a

moment, and who now rose again.

The Bastard sprung also to his feet; but Edward, waving him back, and

reassuming the external dignity which rarely forsook him, replied,

"Cousin, thy question lacketh courtesy to our noble guest: since thy

departure, reasons of state, which we will impart to thee at a meeter

season, have changed our purpose, and we will now that our sister

Margaret shall wed with the Count of Charolois."

"And this to me, king!" exclaimed the earl; all his passions at once

released--"this to me! Nay, frown not, Edward,--I am of the race of

those who, greater than kings, have built thrones and toppled them! I

tell thee, thou hast misused mine honour, and belied thine own; thou

hast debased thyself in juggling me, delegated as the representative

of thy royalty!--Lord Rivers, stand back,--there are barriers eno'

between truth and a king!"

"By Saint George and my father's head!" cried Edward, with a rage no

less fierce than Warwick's,--"thou abusest, false lord, my mercy and

our kindred blood. Another word, and thou leavest this pavilion for

the Tower!"

"King," replied Warwick, scornfully, and folding his arms on his broad

breast, "there is not a hair on this head which thy whole house, thy

guards, and thine armies could dare to touch. ME to the Tower! Send

me,--and when the third sun reddens the roof of prison-house and

palace, look round broad England, and miss a throne!"

"What, ho there!" exclaimed Edward, stamping his foot; and at that

instant the curtain of the pavilion was hastily torn aside, and

Richard of Gloucester entered, followed by Lord Hastings, the Duke of

Clarence, and Anthony Woodville.

"Ah," continued the king, "ye come in time. George of Clarence, Lord

High Constable of England, arrest yon haughty man, who dares to menace

his liege and suzerain!"

Gliding between Clarence, who stood dumb and thunder-stricken, and the

Earl of Warwick, Prince Richard said, in a voice which, though even

softer than usual, had in it more command over those who heard than

when it rolled in thunder along the ranks of Barnet or of Bosworth,

"Edward, my brother, remember Towton, and forbear! Warwick, my

cousin, forget not thy king nor his dead father!"

At these last words the earl's face fell, for to that father he had

sworn to succour and defend the sons; his sense, recovering from his

pride, showed him how much his intemperate anger had thrown away his

advantages in the foul wrong he had sustained from Edward. Meanwhile

the king himself, with flashing eyes and a crest as high as Warwick's,

was about perhaps to overthrow his throne by the attempt to enforce

his threat, when Anthony Woodville, who followed Clarence, whispered

to him, "Beware, sire! a countless crowd that seem to have followed

the earl's steps have already pierced the chase, and can scarcely be

kept from the spot, so great is their desire to behold him. Beware!"--

and Richard's quick ear catching these whispered words, the duke

suddenly backed them by again drawing aside the curtain of the tent.

Along the sward, the guard of the king, summoned from their unseen but

neighbouring post within the wood, were drawn up as if to keep back an

immense multitude,--men, women, children, who swayed and rustled and

murmured in the rear. But no sooner was the curtain drawn aside, and

the guards themselves caught sight of the royal princes and the great

earl towering amidst them, than supposing in their ignorance the scene

thus given to them was intended for their gratification, from that old

soldiery or Towton rose a loud and long "Hurrah! Warwick and the

king!"--"The king and the stout earl!" The multitude behind caught

the cry; they rushed forward, mingling with the soldiery, who no

longer sought to keep them back.

"A Warwick! a Warwick!" they shouted. "God bless the people's

friend!"

Edward, startled and aghast, drew sullenly into the rear of the tent.

De la Roche grew pale; but with the promptness of a practised

statesman, he hastily advanced, and drew the curtain. "Shall

varlets," he said to Richard, in French, "gloat over the quarrels of

their lords?"

"You are right, Sir Count," murmured Richard, meekly; his purpose was

effected, and leaning on his riding staff, he awaited what was to

ensue.

A softer shade had fallen over the earl's face, at the proof of the

love in which his name was held; it almost seemed to his noble though

haughty and impatient nature, as if the affection of the people had

reconciled him to the ingratitude of the king. A tear started to his

proud eye; but he twinkled it away, and approaching Edward (who

remained erect, and with all a sovereign's wrath, though silent on his

lip, lowering on his brow), he said, in a tone of suppressed emotion,--

"Sire, it is not for me to crave pardon of living man, but the

grievous affront put upon my state and mine honour hath led my words

to an excess which my heart repents. I grieve that your Grace's

highness hath chosen this alliance; hereafter you may find at need

what faith is to be placed in Burgundy."

"Darest thou gainsay it?" exclaimed De la Roche.

"Interrupt me not, sir!" continued Warwick, with a disdainful gesture.

"My liege, I lay down mine offices, and I leave it to your Grace to

account as it lists you to the ambassadors of France,--I shall

vindicate myself to their king. And now, ere I depart for my hall of

Middleham, I alone here, unarmed and unattended, save at least by a

single squire, I, Richard Nevile, say, that if any man, peer or

knight, can be found to execute your Grace's threat, and arrest me, I

will obey your royal pleasure, and attend him to the Tower."

Haughtily he bowed his head as he spoke, and raising it again, gazed

around--"I await your Grace's pleasure."

"Begone where thou wilt, earl. From this day Edward IV. reigns

alone," said the king. Warwick turned.

"My Lord Scales," said he. "lift the curtain; nay, sir, it misdemeans

you not. You are still the son of the Woodville, I still the

descendant of John of Gaunt."

"Not for the dead ancestor, but for the living warrior," said the Lord

Scales, lifting the curtain, and bowing with knightly grace as the

earl passed. And scarcely was Warwick in the open space than the

crowd fairly broke through all restraint, and the clamour of their joy

filled with its hateful thunders the royal tent.

"Edward," said Richard, whisperingly, and laying his finger on his

brother's arm, "forgive me if I offended; but had you at such a time

resolved on violence--"

"I see it all,--you were right. But is this to be endured forever?"

"Sire," returned Richard, with his dark smile, "rest calm; for the age

is your best ally, and the age is outgrowing the steel and hauberk. A

little while, and--"

"And what--"

"And--ah, sire, I will answer that question when our brother George

(mark him!) either refrains from listening, or is married to Isabel

Nevile, and hath quarrel with her father about the dowry. What, he,

there!--let the jongleurs perform."

"The jongleurs!" exclaimed the king; "why, Richard, thou hast more

levity than myself!"

"Pardon me! Let the jongleurs perform, and bid the crowd stay. It is

by laughing at the mountebanks that your Grace can best lead the

people to forget their Warwick!"

The Last of the Barons — Volume 04 · 第 9 / 10 章