Under the Rose

by Frederic Stewart Isham

  CHAPTER IX

  THE FLIGHT OF THE FOOL

  Another festal day had come and gone. The crimson shafts of the dyingsun had succumbed to the lengthening shadows of dusk, and the pigeonswere wending their way homeward to the castle parapets and battlements,when, toward the arched entrance on the front, strode the duke's fool.Beyond the castle walls and the inclosure of the pleasure grounds thepeace of twilight rested on the land; the great fields lay becalmed;the distant forests were bivouacs of rest.

  The afternoon had been a labor of pleasure; about the great basin ofthe fountain had passed an ever-varying shifting of moving figures;between the trees bright colors appeared and vanished, and from theheart of concealed bowers had come peals of laughter or strains ofmusic. Unnoticed among the merry throng in palace and park, the jesterhad moved aimlessly about; unobserved now, he turned his back upon thegray walls, satiated, perhaps, with the fetes inaugurated by the kinglyentertainer. But as he attempted to pass the gate, a stalwart guardstepped forward, presenting a formidable-looking glave.

  "Your permit to leave?" he said.

  "A permit? Of course!" replied the fool, and felt in his coat. "Butwhat a handsome weapon you have; the staff all covered with velvet andstudded with brass tacks!"

  "Has the Emperor Charles, then, no such weapons?" asked the gratifiedsoldier.

  "None so handsome! May I see it?" The guard unsuspiciously handed theglave to the jester, who immediately turned it upon the sentinel.

  "Give it back, fool!" cried the alarmed guard.

  "Nay; I am minded to call out and show a soldier of France disarmed bya foreign fool."

  "As well chop off my head with it!" sighed the man.

  "And if I wish to walk without the gate?" suggested the jester.

  "Go, good fool!" replied the other, without hesitation.

  "Well, here is the glave. If any one admires it again, let him studythe point. But why may no one pass out?"

  "Because so many soldiers and good citizens have been beaten and robbedby those who hover around the palace. But you may go in peace," headded. "No one will harm a fool. If 'tis amusement you seek, there'sa camp on the verge of the forest where a dark-haired, good-lookingbaggage dances and tells cards. You can find the place from the noisewithin, and if you're merry, they'll welcome you royally. Go; and Godbe with you!"

  The jester turned from the good-natured guard and quickly walked downthe road, which wound gracefully through the valley and lost itselfafar in a fringe of woodland. A light pattering on the hard earthbehind caused him to look about. Following was a dog that now sprangforward with joyous demonstration. The fool stooped and gravelycaressed the hound which last he had seen at the princess' feet.

  "Why," he said, "thou art now the fool's only friend at court."

  When again he moved on with rapid, nervous stride, the animal cameafter. Darker grew the road; deeper hued the fields and stubble; moresomber the distant castle against the gloaming. Only the cry of adiving night-bird startled the stillness of the tranquil air; arapacious filcher that quickly rose, and swept onward through the seaof night. Its melancholy note echoed in the breast of the fool;mechanically, without relaxing his swift pace, he looked upward tofollow it, when a short, sharp bark behind him and a premonition ofimpending danger caused him to spring suddenly aside. At the same timea dagger descended in the empty air, just grazing the shoulder of thejester, who, recovering himself, grasped the arm of his assailant andgrappled with him. Finding him a man of little strength, the fooleasily threw him to the earth and kneeling on his breast in turnmenaced the assailant with the weapon he had wrested from him.

  "Have you any reason, knave, why I should spare you?" asked the fool.

  "If I had--for want of breath--it would fail me!" answered themiscreant with some difficulty.

  The duke's jester arose. "Get up, rogue!" he said, and the man obeyed.

  He was a pale, gaunt fellow, with long hair, unshaven face, hollowcheeks, and dark eyes, set deeply in his head and shaded by thick,black brows. His dress consisted of a rough doublet, with lappetsleeves, carried down to a point, tight leggings, broad shoes and thepuffed upper hose; the entire raiment frayed and worn; his flesh, or,rather, his bones, showing through the scanty covering for his legs,while his feet were no better protected than those of a trooper who hasbeen long on the march. He displayed no fear or enmity; on thecontrary, his manner was rather friendly than otherwise, as though hefailed to understand the enormity of his offense and the position inwhich he was placed. Shifting from one foot to another, he crossed hisgreat, thin hands before him and patiently awaited his captor'spleasure. The latter surveyed him curiously, and, noting his woebegonefeatures and beggarly attire, pity, perhaps, assuaged his just angertoward this starveling.

  "Why did you wish to kill me?" asked the jester quietly, if somewhatimpatiently.

  "It was not my wish, Master Fool," gently replied the other, but evenas he spoke the resignation in his manner gave way to a look ofapprehension. Lifting his hand, he felt in his breast and glancedabout him on the road. Then his face brightened.

  "With your permission--I have e'en dropped something--"

  And stooping, the scamp-scholar picked up a small, leathern-boundvolume from the ground, where it had fallen during the struggle, andheld it tightly clutched in his hand. "Ah," he muttered with a gladsigh, "I feared I had lost it--my Horace! And now, Sir Jester, whatwould you with me?"

  "A question I might answer with a question," replied the fool. "Havingfailed in your enterprise, why should I spare you?"

  "You shouldn't," returned the vagabond-student. "The ancients teachbut the irrevocable law of retribution."

  To hear a would-be assassin, a castaway out of pocket and heels andelbows, calmly proclaiming the Greek doctrine of inevitableness, undersuch circumstances, would have surprised an observer even moreexperienced and worldly than the duke's fool. Involuntarily his facesoftened; this _pauvre diable_ gazed upon eternity with the calm eyesof a Socrates.

  "You do not then beg for life?" said the _plaisant_, his formerimpatience merging into mild curiosity.

  "Is it worth begging for?" asked the straitened book-worm. "Life meansa pinched stomach, a cold body; Death, no hunger to fear, and a bedthat, though cold, chills us not. What we know not doth not exist--forus; ergo, to lie in the earth is to rest in the lap of luxury, for allour consciousness of it. But to be unconscious of the ills of thisperishable frame, Horace likewise must be as dead to us as our achesand pains. Thus is life made preferable to death. Yes; I would live.Hold, though--" he again hesitated in deep thought--"what avails Horaceif--" he began.

  "Why, what new data have entered in the premises?" observed thewondering jester.

  "Nanette!" was the gloomy answer.

  "Who, pray, is Nanette?" asked the fool, thrusting his assailant'sweapon in his jerkin.

  "A wanton haggard whose tongue will run post sixteen stages together!Who would make the devil himself malleable; then, work, hammer andwire-draw him!"

  "And what is she to you?"

  "My wife! That is, she claims that exalted place, having married meone night when I was in my cups through a false priest who dresses as aFranciscan monk. 'Fools in the court of God' are these priests called,and truly he is a jester, for certainly is he no true monk. ButNanette, nevertheless, asserts she is the lawful partner of my sorrows.So work your will on me. A stroke, and the shivering spirit is waftedacross the Styx."

  "And if I gave you not only your life--for a consideration hereafter tobe mentioned--but a small silver piece as well?" suggested the jester,who had been for some moments buried in thought.

  "Ha!" ejaculated the scamp-student, brightening. "Your gift wouldmatch the piece I already have and which--dolt that I was!--Ioverlooked to include in my chain of reasoning." And thrusting hishand into his ragged doublet, after some search he extracted adiminutive disk upon which he gazed not without ardor. "Thus are weforced to start the chain of reasonin
g anew," he remarked, "with Horaceand this bit of metal on one side of the scales and Nanette on theother. Now unless the devil sits on the beam with Nanette--which he'slike to do--the book and the bit of dross will outweigh her and wearrive at the certitude that life, qualified as to duration, may behappily endured."

  "What argument does the dross carry, knave?" demanded the fool, lookingdown at the hound that crouched at his feet.

  "With it may be purchased that which warms the pinched stomach. Withit may be bought an elixir, so strong and magical, it may breeddefiance even of Nanette. Sir Fool, I have concluded to accept lifeand the small silver piece."

  "Well and good," commented the jester. "But there are conditionsattached to my clemency."

  "Conditions!" retorted the vagabond. "What are conditions to aphilosopher, once he has reached a logical assurance?"

  "First, you must find me a horse. Your Nanette, as I take it, is agipsy and in the camp, are, surely, horses."

  "But why should you want a horse? 'Tis not far to the castle?" saidthe puzzled scholar.

  "No; but 'tis far away from it. Next, tell me where you got that smallpiece of silver, like the one I have promised you?"

  "From Nanette."

  "What for?"

  "To accomplish that which I have failed to do," replied the student,willingly. "But, alas, not having earned it, have I the right idly tospend it?" he added, dolefully, half to himself.

  "Why did Nanette--" began the jester.

  But the other raised his arm with an expostulatory gesture. "Manythings I know," he interrupted; "odds and ends of erudition, but awoman's mind I know not, nor want to know. I had as soon questionBeelzebub as her; yea, to stir up the devil with a stick. If sparingmy life is contingent on my knowing why she does this, or that, thenlet me pay the debt of nature."

  "No; 'tis slight punishment to take from a man that which he values solittle he must reason with himself to learn if he value it at all,"returned the duke's jester, slowly. "We'll waive the question, if youfind me the horse."

  "'Tis Nanette you must ask. There's but one, old, yet serviceable--"

  "Then take me to Nanette."

  "Very well. Follow me, sir; and if you're still of a mind when you seeher, you can question her."

  "Why, is she so weird and witch-like to look upon?" said the fool.

  "Nay; the devil hides his claws behind the daintiest fingers, all pinkand white. He conceals his cloven hoof in a slipper, truly sylph-like."

  "You arouse my curiosity. I would fain meet this fair monster."

  "Come then, Master Fool," replied the scamp-student, leaving the roadfor the field to the right, and the jester, after a moment'sdeliberation, turned likewise into the stubble, while the hound, as ifsatisfied with the service it had performed, slowly retraced its waytoward the castle, stopping, however, now and then to look around afterthe two men, whose figures grew smaller and smaller in the distance.For some space they walked in silence; then the scholar paused, and,pointing to a low, rambling house that once had been a hunter's lodgeand now had fallen into decay, exclaimed:

  "There's where she lives, fool. I'll warrant she's not alone."

  At the same time a clamor of voices and a chorus of rough melody,coming from the cottage, confirmed the assurance his spouse was not,indeed, holding solitary vigil.

  "'Tis e'en thus every night," murmured the scamp student in amelancholy tone. "She gathers 'round her the scum of all rudeness;ragged alchemists of pleasure, who sing incessantly, like grasshopperson a summer day."

  "Where is the horse?" said the jester, abruptly.

  "Stalled in one of the rooms for safe keeping. There are so manyrascals and thieves around, you see--"

  "They e'en rob one another!" returned the fool.

  Advancing more cautiously, the two men approached the ancientforester's dwelling, the hue and cry sounding louder as they drew near,a mingled discord of laughter, shouting and caterwauling, with awoman's piercing voice at times dominating the general vociferation.The philosopher shook his head despondingly, while, creeping to one ofthe windows, the jester looked in.

  Near the fire was a misshapen creature, a sort of monstrous imbecilethat chattered and moaned; a being that bore some resemblance to theancient morios once sold at the olden Forum Morionum to the ladies whodesired these hideous animals for their amusement. At his feetgamboled a dwarf that squeaked and screeched, distorting its face inhideous grimaces. Scattered about the room, singing, bawling orbrawling, were indigent morris dancers; bare-footed minstrels; apinched and needy versificator; a reduced mountebank; a swarthy clown,with a hare's mouth; joculators of the streets, poor as rats and livingas such, straitened, heedless fellows, with heads full of nonsense andpurses empty, poor in pocket, but rich in _plaisanterie_.

  Upon the table, with cards in her lap, which she studied idly, sat ahard-featured, deep-bosomed woman, neither old nor uncomely, withthick, black hair, coarse as a horse's mane, cheeks red as a berry,glowing with health. In her pose was a certain savage grace, anuntrammeled freedom which revealed the vigorous outlines of awell-proportioned figure. Her eye was bright as a diamond and bold asa trooper's; when she lifted her head she looked disdainfully,scornfully, fiercely, upon the strange and monstrous company of whichshe was queen.

  "Where can the thief-friar be?" muttered the student. "He is usuallynot far off from sweet Nanette."

  "You mean the monk who had a hand in your nuptials?"

  "Who else? He, the source of all ill. He who gave her the money ofwhich she e'en presented me a moiety. Whoever employed him--was ityour friends, gentle sir?--rewarded him with gold. Being a cravenrogue, I e'en suspect him of shifting the task to myself for a beggarlypittance, whilst he is off with the lion's share."

  The jester, watching the company within, made no reply. From thestudent to the woman, to the friar, was a chain leading--where? Hefound it not difficult to surmise. Suddenly Nanette threw down thecards and laughed harshly.

  "Neither the devil nor his imps could read the things that arehappening in the castle!"

  Then abruptly springing from the table, she made her way to the fire,over which hung a pot of some savory stew, a magnet to the company'ssharp desire; for throughout all the boisterous merriment wanderingglances had invariably returned to it. To reach the kettle and makeherself mistress of the culinary preparations, she cuffed a dwarf withsuch vigor that he hobbled howling from a suspicious proximity to theappetizing mess to a safe refuge beneath the table. With equallydauntless spirit, she pushed aside the herculean morio who had beenchildishly standing over the pot, licking his fingers in eageranticipation; whereupon the imbecile set up a sharp cry that blendedwith the deeper roar of the lilliputian.

  "And I caught the rabbit!" piteously bellowed the latter from hisretreat.

  "And I found the turnips!" cried the colossal idiot, tears running downhis lubberly cheeks.

  "Peace, you demons!" exclaimed the woman, waving the spoon at them,"or, by the hell-born, you'll ne'er taste morsel of it!"

  Quieted by this stupendous threat, they closed their mouths and openedtheir eyes but the wider, while the gipsy spouse of the student stirredand stirred the mixture in the iron pot, gazing at the fire withfrowning brow as though she would read some page of the future in theleaping flames.

  "Saw you but now how she served the dwarf and the overgrown lump?"whispered the student to the duke's fool. "Are you still minded tomeet her?"

  For answer the jester left the window, stepped to the door, and,opening it, strode into the room.