CHAPTER VI
Food for Thought
Langland and the squire made their way to the river by narrow, muddylanes and unfrequented alleys. The poet, sunk in reverie, sped onwardwith the free stride of the hill-shepherd, a gait he had not lost inall the five and twenty years of his sojourn in London; and Stephenwalked beside him hurriedly, marvelling at himself that he dared notbreak the silence and ask the many questions that tingled at the tipof his tongue. For this fine young gentleman, who could be pert enoughwith Sir Simon de Burley, the tutor of Richard's household, or evenwith his godfather, the Earl of March, yet found himself strangelyabashed in the presence of the lank peasant-priest. Although Stephenknew not its name, 't was reverence stirring in him, an emotion littleencountered among courtiers. The very silence of this grave, dingyfigure seemed to him more pregnant than the speech of other men.
On the middle part of London Bridge, where was the drawbridge,Langland paused and leaned upon the parapet to look in the water.
"'T is the key that unlocketh the city," he said. "Let the bridge betaken, and London is taken."
He spoke as to himself,--moodily; but Stephen answered at his elbow:--
"The French are not like to venture so far as London."
"England hath need to be afeared o' them that's nearer home than theFrench," returned the poet, and went on across the bridge.
In Southwark a shorter way led through a street of ill-repute, andhere a young harlot plucked Stephen by his hanging sleeve and lookedon him, and smiled. Langland, out of the corner of his eye, saw, yettook no notice. But the squire, taking a piece of silver from hispurse, gave it into the girl's hand, saying:--
"Thine is a poor trade. I am sorry for thee."
And the girl hung her head; and presently when they looked back theysaw that she sat on a doorstone, sobbing.
"England is in a sad way," said Stephen, "with an old king far gone inhis dotage, and a woman like Alice Perrers to 's mistress. When youngblood cometh to the throne, I trow such-like disgrace as this will beswept away."
"Do you so?" said Langland grimly. "Sir, these stews are owned of theBishop of Winchester; they are a valuable property."
"William Wykeham!" cried the squire; "that pious man, friend to mygodfather! he that goeth about to found the new college in Oxford?"
"Even so," said Langland. "Yet I do him a small injustice; a part ofthese houses is owned of Walworth the fishmonger."
"Sir, you feed me with thoughts!" Stephen exclaimed sadly.
"I am right glad," said Langland; "I had been a churlish host to givethee but only beans."
And his guest knew not whether to laugh or no.
At the gate of the palace Langland gave the squire good-day, andturned him back to London without further pause, and Stephen wouldhave run after him to thank him for his courtesy, but there came downfrom the gate-house a half score of young gentlemen that fell upon thesquire with shout and laughter, and when he had set himself free, thepriest was past the turn of the road.
"Ho, ho,--Etienne! So thou art not eaten up of John of Gaunt?"
"What adventure?"
"Here 's a half ell o' mud on thy hosen."
"What adventure?"
"The Prince kept the dinner cold an hour."
"The Prince would not eat a morsel."
"Threw the capon out o' the dish over the floor, and the gravy hathruined Sir John Holland's best coat of Flemish broadcloth."
"Who was yon tall clerk, disappeared but now?"
"The Prince hath not ceased to weep these three hours."
"Sir Simon de Burley hath sworn he will have thee birched like anytruant schoolboy."
"He hath ridden forth much perturbed."
"'T is thought the Prince is in a fever; the physician is sent for."
"Tell 's thy tale! Tell 's thy tale!"
"_Mes amis_" said Stephen, "I dined of beans,--plain beans,--sanssauce, sans garniture. My Lord of Oxford, thou art my friend, and thecook's, couldst discover if the capon was injured by 's fall?"
A shout of laughter greeted the question, and all cried, "Beans!--Tellus thy tale!"
But here a page, running down the courtyard, bade say that the PrinceRichard called for Etienne Fitzwarine; and the importunate younggentlemen gave place.
By the Tabard in Southwark, Langland met two horsemen a-riding, and,as was his custom, he passed them by without obeisance. They notedhim, for they were scanning earnestly all persons who met them; andone that was seneschal to the Prince said:--
"A rude fellow!"
And the other:--
"Some malcontent. 'T is so with many of these poor parsons, I hear."
But a voice called to them from behind, and turning, they saw theclerk, who endeavoured to come up with them.
"Sirs," he called, "if ye seek one Stephen Fitzwarine, I have but nowseen him safe at Kennington Palace."
"Here 's silver for thy courtesy, master clerk," said the seneschal,and tossed a white piece on the ground, then turned and galloped offwith his comrade.
Long Will stood looking at the silver in the mud:--
"Eh, well!--'t will buy parchment," said he, and picked it up andwiped it on his sleeve.
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