by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXVI.
SNUG. Have you the lion's part written? pray, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study. QUINCE. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. --MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.
When the Countess of Leicester arrived at the outer gate of the Castleof Kenilworth, she found the tower, beneath which its ample portal archopened, guarded in a singular manner. Upon the battlements were placedgigantic warders, with clubs, battle-axes, and other implements ofancient warfare, designed to represent the soldiers of King Arthur;those primitive Britons, by whom, according to romantic tradition,the Castle had been first tenanted, though history carried back itsantiquity only to the times of the Heptarchy.
Some of these tremendous figures were real men, dressed up with vizardsand buskins; others were mere pageants composed of pasteboard andbuckram, which, viewed from beneath, and mingled with those thatwere real, formed a sufficiently striking representation of what wasintended. But the gigantic porter who waited at the gate beneath, andactually discharged the duties of warder, owed none of his terrors tofictitious means. He was a man whose huge stature, thews, sinews, andbulk in proportion, would have enabled him to enact Colbrand, Ascapart,or any other giant of romance, without raising himself nearer to heaveneven by the altitude of a chopin. The legs and knees of this son of Anakwere bare, as were his arms from a span below the shoulder; but hisfeet were defended with sandals, fastened with cross straps of scarletleather studded with brazen knobs. A close jerkin of scarlet velvetlooped with gold, with short breeches of the same, covered his body anda part of his limbs; and he wore on his shoulders, instead of a cloak,the skin of a black bear. The head of this formidable person wasuncovered, except by his shaggy, black hair, which descended on eitherside around features of that huge, lumpish, and heavy cast which areoften annexed to men of very uncommon size, and which, notwithstandingsome distinguished exceptions, have created a general prejudice againstgiants, as being a dull and sullen kind of persons. This tremendouswarder was appropriately armed with a heavy club spiked with steel. Infine, he represented excellently one of those giants of popular romance,who figure in every fairy tale or legend of knight-errantry.
The demeanour of this modern Titan, when Wayland Smith bent hisattention to him, had in it something arguing much mental embarrassmentand vexation; for sometimes he sat down for an instant on a massivestone bench, which seemed placed for his accommodation beside thegateway, and then ever and anon he started up, scratching his huge head,and striding to and fro on his post, like one under a fit of impatienceand anxiety. It was while the porter was pacing before the gate in thisagitated manner, that Wayland, modestly, yet as a matter of course (not,however, without some mental misgiving), was about to pass him, andenter the portal arch. The porter, however, stopped his progress,bidding him, in a thundering voice, "Stand back!" and enforcing hisinjunction by heaving up his steel-shod mace, and dashing it on theground before Wayland's horse's nose with such vehemence that thepavement flashed fire, and the archway rang to the clamour. Wayland,availing himself of Dickie's hints, began to state that he belonged to aband of performers to which his presence was indispensable, that he hadbeen accidentally detained behind, and much to the same purpose. Butthe warder was inexorable, and kept muttering and murmuring somethingbetwixt his teeth, which Wayland could make little of; and addressingbetwixt whiles a refusal of admittance, couched in language which wasbut too intelligible. A specimen of his speech might run thus:--"What,how now, my masters?" (to himself)--"Here's a stir--here's acoil."--(Then to Wayland)--"You are a loitering knave, and shall have noentrance."--(Again to himself)--"Here's a throng--here's a thrusting.--Ishall ne'er get through with it--Here's a--humph--ha."--(ToWayland)--"Back from the gate, or I'll break the pate of thee."--(Oncemore to himself)--"Here's a--no--I shall never get through it."
"Stand still," whispered Flibbertigibbet into Wayland's ear, "I knowwhere the shoe pinches, and will tame him in an instant."
He dropped down from the horse, and skipping up to the porter, pluckedhim by the tail of the bearskin, so as to induce him to decline his hugehead, and whispered something in his ear. Not at the command of the lordof some Eastern talisman did ever Afrite change his horrid frown intoa look of smooth submission more suddenly than the gigantic porterof Kenilworth relaxed the terrors of his looks at the instantFlibbertigibbet's whisper reached his ears. He flung his club upon theground, and caught up Dickie Sludge, raising him to such a distance fromthe earth as might have proved perilous had he chanced to let him slip.
"It is even so," he said, with a thundering sound of exultation--"it iseven so, my little dandieprat. But who the devil could teach it thee?"
"Do not thou care about that," said Flibbertigibbet--"but--" he lookedat Wayland and the lady, and then sunk what he had to say in awhisper, which needed not be a loud one, as the giant held him for hisconvenience close to his ear. The porter then gave Dickie a warm caress,and set him on the ground with the same care which a careful housewifeuses in replacing a cracked china cup upon her mantelpiece, calling outat the same time to Wayland and the lady, "In with you--in with you! andtake heed how you come too late another day when I chance to be porter."
"Ay, ay, in with you," added Flibbertigibbet; "I must stay a short spacewith mine honest Philistine, my Goliath of Gath here; but I will be withyou anon, and at the bottom of all your secrets, were they as deep anddark as the Castle dungeon."
"I do believe thou wouldst," said Wayland; "but I trust the secret willbe soon out of my keeping, and then I shall care the less whether thouor any one knows it."
They now crossed the entrance tower, which obtained the name of theGallery-tower, from the following circumstance: The whole bridge,extending from the entrance to another tower on the opposite side ofthe lake, called Mortimer's Tower, was so disposed as to make a spacioustilt-yard, about one hundred and thirty yards in length, and ten inbreadth, strewed with the finest sand, and defended on either side bystrong and high palisades. The broad and fair gallery, destined for theladies who were to witness the feats of chivalry presented on this area,was erected on the northern side of the outer tower, to which it gavename. Our travellers passed slowly along the bridge or tilt-yard, andarrived at Mortimer's Tower, at its farthest extremity, through whichthe approach led into the outer or base-court of the Castle. Mortimer'sTower bore on its front the scutcheon of the Earl of March, whose daringambition overthrew the throne of Edward II., and aspired to share hispower with the "She-wolf of France," to whom the unhappy monarch waswedded. The gate, which opened under this ominous memorial, was guardedby many warders in rich liveries; but they offered no opposition to theentrance of the Countess and her guide, who, having passed by license ofthe principal porter at the Gallery-tower, were not, it may be supposed,liable to interruption from his deputies. They entered accordingly, insilence, the great outward court of the Castle, having then full beforethem that vast and lordly pile, with all its stately towers, each gateopen, as if in sign of unlimited hospitality, and the apartments filledwith noble guests of every degree, besides dependants, retainers,domestics of every description, and all the appendages and promoters ofmirth and revelry.
Amid this stately and busy scene Wayland halted his horse, and lookedupon the lady, as if waiting her commands what was next to be done,since they had safely reached the place of destination. As she remainedsilent, Wayland, after waiting a minute or two, ventured to ask her, indirect terms, what were her next commands. She raised her hand to herforehead, as if in the act of collecting her thoughts and resolution,while she answered him in a low and suppressed voice, like the murmursof one who speaks in a dream--"Commands? I may indeed claim right tocommand, but who is there will obey me!"
Then suddenly raising her head, like one who has formed a decisiveresolution, she addressed a gaily-dressed domestic, who was crossing thecourt with importance and bustle in his countenance, "Stop, sir," shesaid; "I desire to speak with, the Earl of Leicester."
"With whom, an
it please you?" said the man, surprised at the demand;and then looking upon the mean equipage of her who used towards him sucha tone of authority, he added, with insolence, "Why, what Bess of Bedlamis this would ask to see my lord on such a day as the present?"
"Friend," said the Countess, "be not insolent--my business with the Earlis most urgent."
"You must get some one else to do it, were it thrice as urgent," saidthe fellow. "I should summon my lord from the Queen's royal presenceto do YOUR business, should I?--I were like to be thanked with ahorse-whip. I marvel our old porter took not measure of such ware withhis club, instead of giving them passage; but his brain is addled withgetting his speech by heart."
Two or three persons stopped, attracted by the fleering way in which theserving-man expressed himself; and Wayland, alarmed both for himself andthe lady, hastily addressed himself to one who appeared the most civil,and thrusting a piece of money into his hand, held a moment's counselwith him on the subject of finding a place of temporary retreat for thelady. The person to whom he spoke, being one in some authority, rebukedthe others for their incivility, and commanding one fellow to take careof the strangers' horses, he desired them to follow him. The Countessretained presence of mind sufficient to see that it was absolutelynecessary she should comply with his request; and leaving the rudelackeys and grooms to crack their brutal jests about light heads,light heels, and so forth, Wayland and she followed in silence thedeputy-usher, who undertook to be their conductor.
They entered the inner court of the Castle by the great gateway, whichextended betwixt the principal Keep, or Donjon, called Caesar's Tower,and a stately building which passed by the name of King Henry's Lodging,and were thus placed in the centre of the noble pile, which presentedon its different fronts magnificent specimens of every species ofcastellated architecture, from the Conquest to the reign of Elizabeth,with the appropriate style and ornaments of each.
Across this inner court also they were conducted by their guide to asmall but strong tower, occupying the north-east angle of the building,adjacent to the great hall, and filling up a space betwixt the immenserange of kitchens and the end of the great hall itself. The lowerpart of this tower was occupied by some of the household officers ofLeicester, owing to its convenient vicinity to the places where theirduty lay; but in the upper story, which was reached by a narrow, windingstair, was a small octangular chamber, which, in the great demand forlodgings, had been on the present occasion fitted up for the receptionof guests, though generally said to have been used as a place ofconfinement for some unhappy person who had been there murdered.Tradition called this prisoner Mervyn, and transferred his name to thetower. That it had been used as a prison was not improbable; for thefloor of each story was arched, the walls of tremendous thickness, whilethe space of the chamber did not exceed fifteen feet in diameter. Thewindow, however, was pleasant, though narrow, and commanded a delightfulview of what was called the Pleasance; a space of ground enclosedand decorated with arches, trophies, statues, fountains, and otherarchitectural monuments, which formed one access from the Castleitself into the garden. There was a bed in the apartment, and otherpreparations for the reception of a guest, to which the Countess paidbut slight attention, her notice being instantly arrested by the sightof writing materials placed on the table (not very commonly to be foundin the bedrooms of those days), which instantly suggested the idea ofwriting to Leicester, and remaining private until she had received hisanswer.
The deputy-usher having introduced them into this commodious apartment,courteously asked Wayland, whose generosity he had experienced, whetherhe could do anything further for his service. Upon receiving a gentlehint that some refreshment would not be unacceptable, he presentlyconveyed the smith to the buttery-hatch, where dressed provisions of allsorts were distributed, with hospitable profusion, to all who asked forthem. Wayland was readily supplied with some light provisions, such ashe thought would best suit the faded appetite of the lady, and did notomit the opportunity of himself making a hasty but hearty meal on moresubstantial fare. He then returned to the apartment in the turret, wherehe found the Countess, who had finished her letter to Leicester, and inlieu of a seal and silken thread, had secured it with a braid of her ownbeautiful tresses, fastened by what is called a true-love knot.
"Good friend," said she to Wayland, "whom God hath sent to aid me at myutmost need, I do beseech thee, as the last trouble you shall takefor an unfortunate lady, to deliver this letter to the noble Earl ofLeicester. Be it received as it may," she said, with features agitatedbetwixt hope and fear, "thou, good fellow, shalt have no more cumberwith me. But I hope the best; and if ever lady made a poor man rich,thou hast surely deserved it at my hand, should my happy days ever comeround again. Give it, I pray you, into Lord Leicester's own hand, andmark how he looks on receiving it."
Wayland, on his part, readily undertook the commission, but anxiouslyprayed the lady, in his turn, to partake of some refreshment; in whichhe at length prevailed, more through importunity and her desire to seehim begone on his errand than from any inclination the Countess felt tocomply with his request. He then left her, advising her to lock her dooron the inside, and not to stir from her little apartment; and went toseek an opportunity of discharging her errand, as well as of carryinginto effect a purpose of his own, which circumstances had induced him toform.
In fact, from the conduct of the lady during the journey--her long fitsof profound silence, the irresolution and uncertainty which seemed topervade all her movements, and the obvious incapacity of thinking andacting for herself under which she seemed to labour--Wayland had formedthe not improbable opinion that the difficulties of her situation had insome degree affected her understanding.
When she had escaped from the seclusion of Cumnor Place, and the dangersto which she was there exposed, it would have seemed her most rationalcourse to retire to her father's, or elsewhere at a distance from thepower of those by whom these dangers had been created. When, instead ofdoing so, she demanded to be conveyed to Kenilworth, Wayland had beenonly able to account for her conduct by supposing that she meant toput herself under the tutelage of Tressilian, and to appeal to theprotection of the Queen. But now, instead of following this naturalcourse, she entrusted him with a letter to Leicester, the patron ofVarney, and within whose jurisdiction at least, if not under his expressauthority, all the evils she had already suffered were inflicted uponher. This seemed an unsafe and even a desperate measure, and Waylandfelt anxiety for his own safety, as well as that of the lady, should heexecute her commission before he had secured the advice and countenanceof a protector.
He therefore resolved, before delivering the letter to Leicester, thathe would seek out Tressilian, and communicate to him the arrival ofthe lady at Kenilworth, and thus at once rid himself of all furtherresponsibility, and devolve the task of guiding and protecting thisunfortunate lady upon the patron who had at first employed him in herservice.
"He will be a better judge than I am," said Wayland, "whether she isto be gratified in this humour of appeal to my Lord of Leicester, whichseems like an act of insanity; and, therefore, I will turn the matterover on his hands, deliver him the letter, receive what they list togive me by way of guerdon, and then show the Castle of Kenilworth a pairof light heels; for, after the work I have been engaged in, it will be,I fear, neither a safe nor wholesome place of residence, and I wouldrather shoe colts an the coldest common in England than share in theirgayest revels."
