Kenilworth

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  RICHARD. A horse!--A horse!--my kingdom for a horse! CATESBY......My lord, I'll help you to a horse. --RICHARD III.

  Our travellers were in the act of passing a small thicket of trees closeby the roadside, when the first living being presented himself whomthey had seen since their departure from Cumnor Place. This was a stupidlout, seemingly a farmer's boy, in a grey jerkin, with his head bare,his hose about his heels, and huge startups upon his feet. He held bythe bridle what of all things they most wanted--a palfrey, namely, witha side-saddle, and all other garniture for a woman's mounting; and hehailed Wayland Smith with, "Zur, be ye zure the party?"

  "Ay, that I be, my lad," answered Wayland, without an instant'shesitation; and it must be owned that consciences trained in a stricterschool of morality might have given way to an occasion so tempting.While he spoke, he caught the rein out of the boy's hand, and almost atthe same time helped down the Countess from his own horse, and aidedher to mount on that which chance had thus presented for her acceptance.Indeed, so naturally did the whole take place, that the Countess, as itafterwards appeared, never suspected but that the horse had beenplaced there to meet them by the precaution of the guide or some of hisfriends.

  The lad, however, who was thus hastily dispossessed of his charge, beganto stare hard, and scratch his head, as if seized with some qualms ofconscience for delivering up the animal on such brief explanation. "Ibe right zure thou be'st the party," said he, muttering to himself, "butthou shouldst ha zaid BEANS, thou knawest."

  "Ay, ay," said Wayland, speaking at a venture; "and thou BACON, thouknowest."

  "Noa, noa," said the lad; "bide ye--bide ye--it was PEAS a should hasaid."

  "Well, well," answered Wayland, "Peas be it, a God's name! though Baconwere the better password."

  And being by this time mounted on his own horse, he caught the rein ofthe palfrey from the uncertain hold of the hesitating young boor, flunghim a small piece of money, and made amends for lost time by ridingbriskly off without further parley. The lad was still visible from thehill up which they were riding, and Wayland, as he looked back, beheldhim standing with his fingers in his hair as immovable as a guide-post,and his head turned in the direction in which they were escaping fromhim. At length, just as they topped the hill, he saw the clown stoop tolift up the silver groat which his benevolence had imparted. "Now thisis what I call a Godsend," said Wayland; "this is a bonny, well-riddenbit of a going thing, and it will carry us so far till we get you aswell mounted, and then we will send it back time enough to satisfy theHue and Cry."

  But he was deceived in his expectations; and fate, which seemed at firstto promise so fairly, soon threatened to turn the incident which he thusgloried in into the cause of their utter ruin.

  They had not ridden a short mile from the place where they left thelad before they heard a man's voice shouting on the wind behind them,"Robbery! robbery!--Stop thief!" and similar exclamations, whichWayland's conscience readily assured him must arise out of thetransaction to which he had been just accessory.

  "I had better have gone barefoot all my life," he said; "it is the Hueand Cry, and I am a lost man. Ah! Wayland, Wayland, many a time thyfather said horse-flesh would be the death of thee. Were I once safeamong the horse-coursers in Smithfield, or Turnbull Street, they shouldhave leave to hang me as high as St. Paul's if I e'er meddled more withnobles, knights, or gentlewomen."

  Amidst these dismal reflections, he turned his head repeatedly to see bywhom he was chased, and was much comforted when he could only discovera single rider, who was, however, well mounted, and came after them ata speed which left them no chance of escaping, even had the lady'sstrength permitted her to ride as fast as her palfrey might have beenable to gallop.

  "There may be fair play betwixt us, sure," thought Wayland, "where thereis but one man on each side, and yonder fellow sits on his horse morelike a monkey than a cavalier. Pshaw! if it come to the worse, it willbe easy unhorsing him. Nay, 'snails! I think his horse will take thematter in his own hand, for he has the bridle betwixt his teeth. Oons,what care I for him?" said he, as the pursuer drew yet nearer; "it isbut the little animal of a mercer from Abingdon, when all is over."

  Even so it was, as the experienced eye of Wayland had descried at adistance. For the valiant mercer's horse, which was a beast of mettle,feeling himself put to his speed, and discerning a couple of horsesriding fast at some hundred yards' distance before him, betook himselfto the road with such alacrity as totally deranged the seat of hisrider, who not only came up with, but passed at full gallop, thosewhom he had been pursuing, pulling the reins with all his might, andejaculating, "Stop! stop!" an interjection which seemed rather toregard his own palfrey than what seamen call "the chase." With the sameinvoluntary speed, he shot ahead (to use another nautical phrase) abouta furlong ere he was able to stop and turn his horse, and then rode backtowards our travellers, adjusting, as well as he could, his disordereddress, resettling himself in the saddle, and endeavouring to substitutea bold and martial frown for the confusion and dismay which sat upon hisvisage during his involuntary career.

  Wayland had just time to caution the lady not to be alarmed, adding,"This fellow is a gull, and I will use him as such."

  When the mercer had recovered breath and audacity enough to confrontthem, he ordered Wayland, in a menacing tone, to deliver up his palfrey.

  "How?" said the smith, in King Cambyses' vein, "are we commanded tostand and deliver on the king's highway? Then out, Excalibur, and tellthis knight of prowess that dire blows must decide between us!"

  "Haro and help, and hue and cry, every true man!" said the mercer. "I amwithstood in seeking to recover mine own."

  "Thou swearest thy gods in vain, foul paynim," said Wayland, "for Iwill through with mine purpose were death at the end on't. Nevertheless,know, thou false man of frail cambric and ferrateen, that I am he, eventhe pedlar, whom thou didst boast to meet on Maiden Castle moor, anddespoil of his pack; wherefore betake thee to thy weapons presently."

  "I spoke but in jest, man," said Goldthred; "I am an honest shopkeeperand citizen, who scorns to leap forth on any man from behind a hedge."

  "Then, by my faith, most puissant mercer," answered Wayland, "I am sorryfor my vow, which was, that wherever I met thee I would despoil thee ofthy palfrey, and bestow it upon my leman, unless thou couldst defend itby blows of force. But the vow is passed and registered, and all Ican do for thee is to leave the horse at Donnington, in the nearesthostelry."

  "But I tell thee, friend," said the mercer, "it is the very horse onwhich I was this day to carry Jane Thackham, of Shottesbrok, as far asthe parish church yonder, to become Dame Goldthred. She hath jumped outof the shot-window of old Gaffer Thackham's grange; and lo ye, yondershe stands at the place where she should have met the palfrey, withher camlet riding-cloak and ivory-handled whip, like a picture of Lot'swife. I pray you, in good terms, let me have back the palfrey."

  "Grieved am I," said Wayland, "as much for the fair damsel as for thee,most noble imp of muslin. But vows must have their course; thou wiltfind the palfrey at the Angel yonder at Donnington. It is all I may dofor thee with a safe conscience."

  "To the devil with thy conscience!" said the dismayed mercer. "Wouldstthou have a bride walk to church on foot?"

  "Thou mayest take her on thy crupper, Sir Goldthred," answered Wayland;"it will take down thy steed's mettle."

  "And how if you--if you forget to leave my horse, as you propose?" saidGoldthred, not without hesitation, for his soul was afraid within him.

  "My pack shall be pledged for it--yonder it lies with Giles Gosling,in his chamber with the damasked leathern hangings, stuffed full withvelvet, single, double, treble-piled--rash-taffeta, and parapa--shag,damask, and mocado, plush, and grogram--"

  "Hold! hold!" exclaimed the mercer; "nay, if there be, in truth andsincerity, but the half of these wares--but if ever I trust bumpkin withbonny Bayard again!"

  "As you list for that, good Mas
ter Goldthred, and so good morrow toyou--and well parted," he added, riding on cheerfully with the lady,while the discountenanced mercer rode back much slower than he came,pondering what excuse he should make to the disappointed bride, whostood waiting for her gallant groom in the midst of the king's highway.

  "Methought," said the lady, as they rode on, "yonder fool stared at meas if he had some remembrance of me; yet I kept my muffler as high as Imight."

  "If I thought so," said Wayland, "I would ride back and cut him over thepate; there would be no fear of harming his brains, for he never hadso much as would make pap to a sucking gosling. We must now push on,however, and at Donnington we will leave the oaf's horse, that he mayhave no further temptation to pursue us, and endeavour to assume such achange of shape as may baffle his pursuit if he should persevere in it."

  The travellers reached Donnington without further alarm, where it becamematter of necessity that the Countess should enjoy two or three hours'repose, during which Wayland disposed himself, with equal address andalacrity, to carry through those measures on which the safety of theirfuture journey seemed to depend.

  Exchanging his pedlar's gaberdine for a smock-frock, he carried thepalfrey of Goldthred to the Angel Inn, which was at the other end of thevillage from that where our travellers had taken up their quarters. Inthe progress of the morning, as he travelled about his other business,he saw the steed brought forth and delivered to the cutting mercerhimself, who, at the head of a valorous posse of the Hue and Cry, cameto rescue, by force of arms, what was delivered to him without anyother ransom than the price of a huge quantity of ale, drunk out by hisassistants, thirsty, it would seem, with their walk, and concerningthe price of which Master Goldthred had a fierce dispute with theheadborough, whom he had summoned to aid him in raising the country.

  Having made this act of prudent as well as just restitution, Waylandprocured such change of apparel for the lady, as well as himself, asgave them both the appearance of country people of the better class; itbeing further resolved, that in order to attract the less observation,she should pass upon the road for the sister of her guide. A good butnot a gay horse, fit to keep pace with his own, and gentle enough fora lady's use, completed the preparations for the journey; for makingwhich, and for other expenses, he had been furnished with sufficientfunds by Tressilian. And thus, about noon, after the Countess had beenrefreshed by the sound repose of several hours, they resumed theirjourney, with the purpose of making the best of their way to Kenilworth,by Coventry and Warwick. They were not, however, destined to travel farwithout meeting some cause of apprehension.

  It is necessary to premise that the landlord of the inn had informedthem that a jovial party, intended, as he understood, to present someof the masques or mummeries which made a part of the entertainment withwhich the Queen was usually welcomed on the royal Progresses, had leftthe village of Donnington an hour or two before them in order toproceed to Kenilworth. Now it had occurred to Wayland that, by attachingthemselves in some sort to this group as soon as they should overtakethem on the road, they would be less likely to attract notice than ifthey continued to travel entirely by themselves. He communicated hisidea to the Countess, who, only anxious to arrive at Kenilworth withoutinterruption, left him free to choose the manner in which this was tobe accomplished. They pressed forward their horses, therefore, with thepurpose of overtaking the party of intended revellers, and making thejourney in their company; and had just seen the little party, consistingpartly of riders, partly of people on foot, crossing the summit of agentle hill, at about half a mile's distance, and disappearing onthe other side, when Wayland, who maintained the most circumspectobservation of all that met his eye in every direction, was aware thata rider was coming up behind them on a horse of uncommon action,accompanied by a serving-man, whose utmost efforts were unable to keepup with his master's trotting hackney, and who, therefore, was fainto follow him at a hand gallop. Wayland looked anxiously back at thesehorsemen, became considerably disturbed in his manner, looked backagain, and became pale, as he said to the lady, "That is RichardVarney's trotting gelding; I would know him among a thousand nags. Thisis a worse business than meeting the mercer."

  "Draw your sword," answered the lady, "and pierce my bosom with it,rather than I should fall into his hands!"

  "I would rather by a thousand times," answered Wayland, "pass it throughhis body, or even mine own. But to say truth, fighting is not my bestpoint, though I can look on cold iron like another when needs must be.And indeed, as for my sword--(put on, I pray you)--it is a poor Provantrapier, and I warrant you he has a special Toledo. He has a serving-man,too, and I think it is the drunken ruffian Lambourne! upon the horse onwhich men say--(I pray you heartily to put on)--he did the great robberyof the west country grazier. It is not that I fear either Varney orLambourne in a good cause--(your palfrey will go yet faster if you urgehim)--but yet--(nay, I pray you let him not break off into a gallop,lest they should see we fear them, and give chase--keep him only at thefull trot)--but yet, though I fear them not, I would we were well ridof them, and that rather by policy than by violence. Could we once reachthe party before us, we may herd among them, and pass unobserved, unlessVarney be really come in express pursuit of us, and then, happy man behis dole!"

  While he thus spoke, he alternately urged and restrained his horse,desirous to maintain the fleetest pace that was consistent with theidea of an ordinary journey on the road, but to avoid such rapidity ofmovement as might give rise to suspicion that they were flying.

  At such a pace they ascended the gentle hill we have mentioned, andlooking from the top, had the pleasure to see that the party which hadleft Donnington before them were in the little valley or bottom on theother side, where the road was traversed by a rivulet, beside which wasa cottage or two. In this place they seemed to have made a pause, whichgave Wayland the hope of joining them, and becoming a part of theircompany, ere Varney should overtake them. He was the more anxious, ashis companion, though she made no complaints, and expressed no fear,began to look so deadly pale that he was afraid she might drop from herhorse. Notwithstanding this symptom of decaying strength, she pushed onher palfrey so briskly that they joined the party in the bottom of thevalley ere Varney appeared on the top of the gentle eminence which theyhad descended.

  They found the company to which they meant to associate themselves ingreat disorder. The women with dishevelled locks, and looks of greatimportance, ran in and out of one of the cottages, and the men stoodaround holding the horses, and looking silly enough, as is usual incases where their assistance is not wanted.

  Wayland and his charge paused, as if out of curiosity, and thengradually, without making any inquiries, or being asked any questions,they mingled with the group, as if they had always made part of it.

  They had not stood there above five minutes, anxiously keeping as muchto the side of the road as possible, so as to place the other travellersbetwixt them and Varney, when Lord Leicester's master of the horse,followed by Lambourne, came riding fiercely down the hill, their horses'flanks and the rowels of their spurs showing bloody tokens of the rateat which they travelled. The appearance of the stationary group aroundthe cottages, wearing their buckram suits in order to protect theirmasking dresses, having their light cart for transporting their scenery,and carrying various fantastic properties in their hands for the moreeasy conveyance, let the riders at once into the character and purposeof the company.

  "You are revellers," said Varney, "designing for Kenilworth?"

  "RECTE QUIDEM, DOMINE SPECTATISSIME," answered one of the party.

  "And why the devil stand you here?" said Varney, "when your utmostdispatch will but bring you to Kenilworth in time? The Queen dines atWarwick to-morrow, and you loiter here, ye knaves."

  "I very truth, sir," said a little, diminutive urchin, wearing a vizardwith a couple of sprouting horns of an elegant scarlet hue, having,moreover, a black serge jerkin drawn close to his body by lacing,garnished with red stockings, and shoes so shaped a
s to resemble clovenfeet--"in very truth, sir, and you are in the right on't. It is myfather the Devil, who, being taken in labour, has delayed our presentpurpose, by increasing our company with an imp too many."

  "The devil he has!" answered Varney, whose laugh, however, neverexceeded a sarcastic smile.

  "It is even as the juvenal hath said," added the masker who spoke first;"Our major devil--for this is but our minor one--is even now at LUCINA,FER OPEM, within that very TUGURIUM."

  "By Saint George, or rather by the Dragon, who may be a kinsman of thefiend in the straw, a most comical chance!" said Varney. "How sayestthou, Lambourne, wilt thou stand godfather for the nonce? If the devilwere to choose a gossip, I know no one more fit for the office."

  "Saving always when my betters are in presence," said Lambourne,with the civil impudence of a servant who knows his services to be soindispensable that his jest will be permitted to pass muster.

  "And what is the name of this devil, or devil's dam, who has timed herturns so strangely?" said Varney. "We can ill afford to spare any of ouractors."

  "GAUDET NOMINE SIBYLLAE," said the first speaker; "she is called SibylLaneham, wife of Master Robert Laneham--"

  "Clerk to the Council-chamber door," said Varney; "why, she isinexcusable, having had experience how to have ordered her mattersbetter. But who were those, a man and a woman, I think, who rode sohastily up the hill before me even now? Do they belong to your company?"

  Wayland was about to hazard a reply to this alarming inquiry, when thelittle diablotin again thrust in his oar.

  "So please you," he said, coming close up to Varney, and speaking so asnot to be overheard by his companions, "the man was our devil major, whohas tricks enough to supply the lack of a hundred such as Dame Laneham;and the woman, if you please, is the sage person whose assistance ismost particularly necessary to our distressed comrade."

  "Oh, what! you have got the wise woman, then?" said Varney. "Why, truly,she rode like one bound to a place where she was needed. And you have aspare limb of Satan, besides, to supply the place of Mistress Laneham?"

  "Ay, sir," said the boy; "they are not so scarce in this world as yourhonour's virtuous eminence would suppose. This master-fiend shall spit afew flashes of fire, and eruct a volume or two of smoke on the spot, ifit will do you pleasure--you would think he had AEtna in his abdomen."

  "I lack time just now, most hopeful imp of darkness, to witness hisperformance," said Varney; "but here is something for you all to drinkthe lucky hour--and so, as the play says, 'God be with Your labour!'"

  Thus speaking, he struck his horse with the spurs, and rode on his way.

  Lambourne tarried a moment or two behind his master, and rummaged hispouch for a piece of silver, which he bestowed on the communicative imp,as he said, for his encouragement on his path to the infernal regions,some sparks of whose fire, he said, he could discover flashing from himalready. Then having received the boy's thanks for his generosity healso spurred his horse, and rode after his master as fast as the fireflashes from flint.

  "And now," said the wily imp, sidling close up to Wayland's horse,and cutting a gambol in the air which seemed to vindicate his title torelationship with the prince of that element, "I have told them who YOUare, do you in return tell me who I am?"

  "Either Flibbertigibbet," answered Wayland Smith, "or else an imp of thedevil in good earnest."

  "Thou hast hit it," answered Dickie Sludge. "I am thine ownFlibbertigibbet, man; and I have broken forth of bounds, along with mylearned preceptor, as I told thee I would do, whether he would or not.But what lady hast thou got with thee? I saw thou wert at fault thefirst question was asked, and so I drew up for thy assistance. But Imust know all who she is, dear Wayland."

  "Thou shalt know fifty finer things, my dear ingle," said Wayland;"but a truce to thine inquiries just now. And since you are bound forKenilworth, thither will I too, even for the love of thy sweet face andwaggish company."

  "Thou shouldst have said my waggish face and sweet company," saidDickie; "but how wilt thou travel with us--I mean in what character?"

  "E'en in that thou hast assigned me, to be sure--as a juggler; thouknowest I am used to the craft," answered Wayland.

  "Ay, but the lady?" answered Flibbertigibbet. "Credit me, I think she ISone and thou art in a sea of troubles about her at this moment, as I canperceive by thy fidgeting."

  "Oh, she, man!--she is a poor sister of mine," said Wayland; "she cansing and play o' the lute would win the fish out o' the stream."

  "Let me hear her instantly," said the boy, "I love the lute rarely; Ilove it of all things, though I never heard it."

  "Then how canst thou love it, Flibbertigibbet?" said Wayland.

  "As knights love ladies in old tales," answered Dickie--"on hearsay."

  "Then love it on hearsay a little longer, till my sister is recoveredfrom the fatigue of her journey," said Wayland; muttering afterwardsbetwixt his teeth, "The devil take the imp's curiosity! I must keep fairweather with him, or we shall fare the worse."

  He then proceeded to state to Master Holiday his own talents as ajuggler, with those of his sister as a musician. Some proof of hisdexterity was demanded, which he gave in such a style of excellence,that, delighted at obtaining such an accession to their party, theyreadily acquiesced in the apology which he offered when a display of hissister's talents was required. The new-comers were invited to partakeof the refreshments with which the party were provided; and it was withsome difficulty that Wayland Smith obtained an opportunity of beingapart with his supposed sister during the meal, of which interval heavailed himself to entreat her to forget for the present both herrank and her sorrows, and condescend, as the most probable chance ofremaining concealed, to mix in the society of those with whom she was totravel.

  The Countess allowed the necessity of the case, and when they resumedtheir journey, endeavoured to comply with her guide's advice, byaddressing herself to a female near her, and expressing her concern forthe woman whom they were thus obliged to leave behind them.

  "Oh, she is well attended, madam," replied the dame whom she addressed,who, from her jolly and laughter-loving demeanour, might have been thevery emblem of the Wife of Bath; "and my gossip Laneham thinks as littleof these matters as any one. By the ninth day, an the revels last solong, we shall have her with us at Kenilworth, even if she should travelwith her bantling on her back."

  There was something in this speech which took away all desire on theCountess of Leicester's part to continue the conversation. But havingbroken the charm by speaking to her fellow-traveller first, the gooddame, who was to play Rare Gillian of Croydon in one of the interludes,took care that silence did not again settle on the journey, butentertained her mute companion with a thousand anecdotes of revels, fromthe days of King Harry downwards, with the reception given them bythe great folk, and all the names of those who played the principalcharacters; but ever concluding with "they would be nothing to theprincely pleasures of Kenilworth."

  "And when shall we reach Kenilworth? said the Countess, with anagitation which she in vain attempted to conceal.

  "We that have horses may, with late riding, get to Warwick to-night, andKenilworth may be distant some four or five miles. But then we mustwait till the foot-people come up; although it is like my good Lord ofLeicester will have horses or light carriages to meet them, and bringthem up without being travel-toiled, which last is no good preparation,as you may suppose, for dancing before your betters. And yet, Lord helpme, I have seen the day I would have tramped five leagues of lea-land,and turned an my toe the whole evening after, as a juggler spins apewter platter on the point of a needle. But age has clawed me somewhatin his clutch, as the song says; though, if I like the tune and likemy partner, I'll dance the hays yet with any merry lass in Warwickshirethat writes that unhappy figure four with a round O after it."

  If the Countess was overwhelmed with the garrulity of this good dame,Wayland Smith, on his part, had enough to do to sustain and parry theconstant atta
cks made upon him by the indefatigable curiosity of hisold acquaintance Richard Sludge. Nature had given that arch youngster aprying cast of disposition, which matched admirably with his sharp wit;the former inducing him to plant himself as a spy on other people'saffairs, and the latter quality leading him perpetually to interfere,after he had made himself master of that which concerned him not.He spent the livelong day in attempting to peer under the Countess'smuffler, and apparently what he could there discern greatly sharpenedhis curiosity.

  "That sister of thine, Wayland," he said, "has a fair neck to have beenborn in a smithy, and a pretty taper hand to have been used for twirlinga spindle--faith, I'll believe in your relationship when the crow's eggis hatched into a cygnet."

  "Go to," said Wayland, "thou art a prating boy, and should be breechedfor thine assurance."

  "Well," said the imp, drawing off, "all I say is--remember you have kepta secret from me, and if I give thee not a Roland for thine Oliver, myname is not Dickon Sludge!"

  This threat, and the distance at which Hobgoblin kept from him for therest of the way, alarmed Wayland very much, and he suggested to hispretended sister that, on pretext of weariness, she should express adesire to stop two or three miles short of the fair town of Warwick,promising to rejoin the troop in the morning. A small village innafforded them a resting-place, and it was with secret pleasure thatWayland saw the whole party, including Dickon, pass on, after acourteous farewell, and leave them behind.

  "To-morrow, madam," he said to his charge, "we will, with your leave,again start early, and reach Kenilworth before the rout which are toassemble there."

  The Countess gave assent to the proposal of her faithful guide; but,somewhat to his surprise, said nothing further on the subject, whichleft Wayland under the disagreeable uncertainty whether or no she hadformed any plan for her own future proceedings, as he knew her situationdemanded circumspection, although he was but imperfectly acquainted withall its peculiarities. Concluding, however, that she must have friendswithin the castle, whose advice and assistance she could safely trust,he supposed his task would be best accomplished by conducting herthither in safety, agreeably to her repeated commands.