The Betrothed

Chapter 18

Oh, were I seated high as my ambition,

I'd place this naked foot on necks of monarchs!

MYSTERIOUS MOTHER.

The most anxious and unhappy moment of Hugo de Lacy's life, was

unquestionably that in which, by espousing Eveline with all civil

and religious solemnity, he seemed to approach to what for some

time he had considered as the prime object of his wishes. He was

assured of the early possession of a beautiful and amiable wife,

endowed with such advantage of worldly goods, as gratified his

ambition as well as his affections--Yet, even in this fortunate

moment, the horizon darkened around him, in a manner which

presaged nought but storm and calamity. At his nephew's lodging he

learned that the pulse of the patient had risen, and his delirium

had augmented, and all around him spoke very doubtfully of his

chance of recovery, or surviving a crisis which seemed speedily

approaching. The Constable stole towards the door of the apartment

which his feelings permitted him not to enter, and listened to the

raving which the fever gave rise to. Nothing can be more

melancholy than to hear the mind at work concerning its ordinary

occupations, when the body is stretched in pain and danger upon

the couch of severe sickness; the contrast betwixt the ordinary

state of health, its joys or its labours, renders doubly affecting

the actual helplessness of the patient before whom these visions

are rising, and we feel a corresponding degree of compassion for

the sufferer whose thoughts are wandering so far from his real

condition.

The Constable felt this acutely, as he heard his nephew shout the

war-cry of the family repeatedly, appearing, by the words of

command and direction, which he uttered from time to time, to be

actively engaged in leading his men-at-arms against the Welsh. At

another time he uttered various terms of the _manege_, of

falconry, and of the chase--he mentioned his uncle's name

repeatedly on these occasions, as if the idea of his kinsman had

been connected alike with his martial encounters, and with his

sports by wood and river. Other sounds there were, which he

muttered so low as to be altogether undistinguishable.

With a heart even still more softened towards his kinsman's

sufferings from hearing the points on which his mind wandered, the

Constable twice applied his hand to the latch of the door, in

order to enter the bedroom, and twice forebore, his eyes running

faster with tears than he chose should be witnessed by the

attendants. At length, relinquishing his purpose, he hastily left

the house, mounted his horse, and followed only by four of his

personal attendants, rode towards the palace of the Bishop, where,

as he learned from public rumour, the Archprelate Baldwin had

taken up his temporary residence.

The train of riders and of led-horses, of sumpter mules, and of

menials and attendants, both lay and ecclesiastical, which

thronged around the gate of the Episcopal mansion, together with

the gaping crowd of inhabitants who had gathered around, some to

gaze upon the splendid show, some to have the chance of receiving

the benediction of the Holy Prelate, was so great as to impede the

Constable's approach to the palace-door; and when this obstacle

was surmounted, he found another in the obstinacy of the

Archbishop's attendants, who permitted him not, though announced

by name and title, to cross the threshold of the mansion, until

they should receive the express command of their master to that

effect.

The Constable felt the full effect of this slighting reception. He

had dismounted from his horse in full confidence of being

instantly admitted into the palace at least, if not into the

Prelate's presence; and as he now stood on foot among the squires,

grooms, and horseboys of the spiritual lord, he was so much

disgusted, that his first impulse was to remount his horse, and

return to his pavilion, pitched for the time before the city

walls, leaving it to the Bishop to seek him there, if he really

desired an interview. But the necessity of conciliation almost

immediately rushed on his mind, and subdued the first haughty

impulse of his offended pride. "If our wise King," he said to

himself, "hath held the stirrup of one Prelate of Canterbury when

living, and submitted to the most degrading observances before his

shrine when dead, surely I need not be more scrupulous towards his

priestly successor in the same overgrown authority." Another

thought, which he dared hardly to acknowledge, recommended the

same humble and submissive course. He could not but feel that, in

endeavouring to evade his vows as a crusader, he was incurring

some just censure from the Church; and he was not unwilling to

hope, that his present cold and scornful reception on Baldwin's

part, might be meant as a part of the penance which his conscience

informed him his conduct was about to receive.

After a short interval, De Lacy was at length invited to enter the

palace of the Bishop of Gloucester, in which he was to meet the

Primate of England; but there was more than one brief pause, in

hall and anteroom, ere he at length was admitted to Baldwin's

presence.

The successor of the celebrated Becket had neither the extensive

views, nor the aspiring spirit, of that redoubted personage; but,

on the other hand, saint as the latter had become, it may be

questioned, whether, in his professions for the weal of

Christendom, he was half so sincere as was the present Archbishop.

Baldwin was, in truth, a man well qualified to defend the powers

which the Church had gained, though perhaps of a character too

sincere and candid to be active in extending them. The advancement

of the Crusade was the chief business of his life, his success the

principal cause of his pride; and, if the sense of possessing the

powers of eloquent persuasion, and skill to bend the minds of men

to his purpose, was blended with his religious zeal, still the

tenor of his life, and afterwards his death before Ptolemais,

showed that the liberation of the Holy Sepulchre from the infidels

was the unfeigned object of all his exertions. Hugo de Lacy well

knew this; and the difficulty of managing such a temper appeared

much greater to him on the eve of the interview in which the

attempt was to be made, than he had suffered himself to suppose

when the crisis was yet distant.

The Prelate, a man of a handsome and stately form, with features

rather too severe to be pleasing, received the Constable in all

the pomp of ecclesiastical dignity. He was seated on a chair of

oak, richly carved with Gothic ornaments, and placed above the

rest of the floor under a niche of the same workmanship. His dress

was the rich episcopal robe, ornamented with costly embroidery,

and fringed around the neck and cuffs; it opened from the throat

and in the middle, and showed an under vestment of embroidery,

betwixt the folds of which, as if imperfectly concealed, peeped

the close shirt of hair-cloth which the Prelate constantly wore

under all his pompous attire. His mitre was placed beside him on

an oaken table of the same workmanship with his throne, against

which also rested his pastoral staff, representing a shepherd's

crook of the simplest form, yet which had proved more powerful and

fearful than lance or scimetar, when wielded by the hand of Thomas

a Becket. A chaplain in a white surplice kneeled at a little

distance before a desk, and read forth from an illuminated volume

some portion of a theological treatise, in which Baldwin appeared

so deeply interested, that he did not appear to notice the

entrance of the Constable, who, highly displeased at this

additional slight, stood on the floor of the hall, undetermined

whether to interrupt the reader, and address the Prelate at once,

or to withdraw without saluting him at all. Ere he had formed a

resolution, the chaplain had arrived at some convenient pause in

the lecture, where the Archbishop stopped him with, "_Satis est,

mi fili._"

It was in vain that the proud secular Baron strove to conceal the

embarrassment with which he approached the Prelate, whose attitude

was plainly assumed for the purpose of impressing him with awe and

solicitude. He tried, indeed, to exhibit a demeanour of such ease

as might characterize their old friendship, or at least of such

indifference as might infer the possession of perfect

tranquillity; but he failed in both, and his address expressed

mortified pride, mixed with no ordinary degree of embarrassment.

The genius of the Catholic Church was on such occasions sure to

predominate over the haughtiest of the laity.

"I perceive," said De Lacy, collecting his thoughts, and ashamed

to find he had difficulty in doing so,--"I perceive that an old

friendship is here dissolved. Methinks Hugo de Lacy might have

expected another messenger to summon him to this reverend

presence, and that another welcome should wait him on his

arrival."

The Archbishop raised himself slowly in his seat, and made a half-

inclination towards the Constable, who, by an instinctive desire

of conciliation, returned it lower than he had intended, or than

the scanty courtesy merited. The Prelate at the same time signing

to his chaplain, the latter rose to withdraw, and receiving

permission in the phrase "_Do veniam_," retreated reverentially,

without either turning his back or looking upwards, his eyes fixed

on the ground, his hands still folded in his habit, and crossed

over his bosom.

When this mute attendant had disappeared, the Prelate's brow

became more open, yet retained a dark shade of grave displeasure,

and he replied to the address of De Lacy, but still without rising

from his seat. "It skills not now, my lord, to say what the brave

Constable of Chester has been to the poor priest Baldwin, or with

what love and pride we beheld him assume the holy sign of

salvation, and, to honour Him by whom he has himself been raised

to honour, vow himself to the deliverance of the Holy Land. If I

still see that noble lord before me, in the same holy resolution,

let me know the joyful truth, and I will lay aside rochet and

mitre, and tend his horse like a groom, if it be necessary by such

menial service to show the cordial respect I bear to him."

"Reverend father," answered De Lacy, with hesitation, "I had hoped

that the propositions which were made to you on my part by the

Dean of Hereford, might have seemed more satisfactory in your

eyes." Then, regaining his native confidence, he proceeded with

more assurance in speech and manner; for the cold inflexible looks

of the Archbishop irritated him. "If these proposals can be

amended, my lord, let me know in what points, and, if possible,

your pleasure shall be done, even if it should prove somewhat

unreasonable. I would have peace, my lord, with Holy Church, and

am the last who would despise her mandates. This has been known by

my deeds in field, and counsels in the state; nor can I think my

services have merited cold looks and cold language from the

Primate of England."

"Do you upbraid the Church with your services, vain man?" said

Baldwin. "I tell thee, Hugo de Lacy, that what Heaven hath wrought

for the Church by thy hand, could, had it been the divine

pleasure, have been achieved with as much ease by the meanest

horseboy in thy host. It is _thou_ that art honoured, in

being the chosen instrument by which great things have been

wrought in Israel.--Nay, interrupt me not--I tell thee, proud

baron, that, in the sight of Heaven, thy wisdom is but as folly--

thy courage, which thou dost boast, but the cowardice of a village

maiden--thy strength weakness--thy spear an osier, and thy sword a

bulrush."

"All this I know, good father," said the Constable, "and have ever

heard it repeated when such poor services as I may have rendered

are gone and past. Marry, when there was need for my helping hand,

I was the very good lord of priest and prelate, and one who should

be honoured and prayed for with patrons and founders who sleep in

the choir and under the high altar. There was no thought, I trow,

of osier or of bulrush, when I have been prayed to couch my lance

or draw my weapon; it is only when they are needless that they and

their owner are undervalued. Well, my reverend father, be it so,--

if the Church can cast the Saracens from the Holy Land by grooms

and horseboys, wherefore do you preach knights and nobles from the

homes and the countries which they are born to protect and

defend?"

The Archbishop looked steadily on him as he replied, "Not for the

sake of their fleshly arm do we disturb your knights and barons in

their prosecution of barbarous festivities, and murderous feuds,

which you call enjoying their homes and protecting their domains,

--not that Omnipotence requires their arm of flesh to execute the

great predestined work of liberation--but for the weal of their

immortal souls." These last words he pronounced with great

emphasis.

The Constable paced the floor impatiently, and muttered to

himself, "Such is the airy guerdon for which hosts on hosts have

been drawn from Europe to drench the sands of Palestine with their

gore--such the vain promises for which we are called upon to

barter our country, our lands, and our lives!"

"Is it Hugo de Lacy speaks thus?" said the Archbishop, arising

from his seat, and qualifying his tone of censure with the

appearance of shame and of regret--"Is it he who underprizes the

renown of a knight--the virtue of a Christian--the advancement of

his earthly honour--the more incalculable profit of his immortal

soul?--Is it he who desires a solid and substantial recompense in

lands or treasures, to be won by warring on his less powerful

neighbours at home, while knightly honour and religious faith, his

vow as a knight and his baptism as a Christian, call him to a more

glorious and more dangerous strife?--Can it be indeed Hugo de

Lacy, the mirror of the Anglo-Norman chivalry, whose thoughts can

conceive such sentiments, whose words can utter them?"

"Flattery and fair speech, suitably mixed with taunts and

reproaches, my lord," answered the Constable, colouring and biting

his lip, "may carry your point with others; but I am of a temper

too solid to be either wheedled or goaded into measures of

importance. Forbear, therefore, this strain of affected amazement;

and believe me, that whether he goes to the Crusade or abides at

home, the character of Hugo de Lacy will remain as unimpeached in

point of courage as that of the Archbishop Baldwin in point of

sanctitude."

"May it stand much higher," said the Archbishop, "than the

reputation with which you vouchsafe to compare it! but a blaze may

be extinguished as well as a spark; and I tell the Constable of

Chester, that the fame which has set on his basnet for so many

years, may flit from it in one moment, never to be recalled."

"Who dares to say so?" said the Constable, tremblingly alive to

the honour for which he had encountered so many dangers.

"A friend," said the Prelate, "whose stripes should be received as

benefits. You think of pay, Sir Constable, and of guerdon, as if

you still stood in the market, free to chaffer on the terms of

your service. I tell you, you are no longer your own master--you

are, by the blessed badge you have voluntarily assumed, the

soldier of God himself; nor can you fly from your standard without

such infamy as even coistrels or grooms are unwilling to incur."

"You deal all too hardly with us, my lord," said Hugo de Lacy,

stopping short in his troubled walk. "You of the spirituality make

us laymen the pack-horses of your own concerns, and climb to

ambitious heights by the help of our over-burdened shoulders; but

all hath its limits--Becket transgressed it, and----"

A gloomy and expressive look corresponded with the tone in which

he spoke this broken sentence; and the Prelate, at no loss to

comprehend his meaning, replied, in a firm and determined voice,

"And he was _murdered!_--that is what you dare to hint to me--

even to me, the successor of that glorified saint--as a motive

for complying with your fickle and selfish wish to withdraw your

hand from the plough. You know not to whom you address such a

threat. True, Becket, from a saint militant on earth, arrived, by

the bloody path of martyrdom, to the dignity of a saint in Heaven;

and no less true is it, that, to attain a seat a thousand degrees

beneath that of his blessed predecessor, the unworthy Baldwin were

willing to submit, under Our Lady's protection, to whatever the

worst of wicked men can inflict on his earthly frame."

"There needs not this show of courage, reverend father," said

Lacy, recollecting himself, "where there neither is, nor can be,

danger. I pray you, let us debate this matter more deliberately. I

have never meant to break off my purpose for the Holy Land, but

only to postpone it. Methinks the offers that I have made are

fair, and ought to obtain for me what has been granted to others

in the like case--a slight delay in the time of my departure."

"A slight delay on the part of such a leader as you, noble De

Lacy," answered the Prelate, "were a death-blow to our holy and

most gallant enterprise. To meaner men we might have granted the

privilege of marrying and giving in marriage, even although they

care not for the sorrows of Jacob; but you, my lord, are a main

prop of our enterprise, and, being withdrawn, the whole fabric may

fall to the ground. Who in England will deem himself obliged to

press forward, when Hugo de Lacy falls back? Think, my lord, less

upon your plighted bride, and more on your plighted word; and

believe not that a union can ever come to good, which shakes your

purpose towards our blessed undertaking for the honour of

Christendom."

The Constable was embarrassed by the pertinacity of the Prelate,

and began to give way to his arguments, though most reluctantly,

and only because the habits and opinions of the time left him no

means of combating his arguments, otherwise than by solicitation.

"I admit," he said, "my engagements for the Crusade, nor have I--I

repeat it--farther desire than that brief interval which may be

necessary to place my important affairs in order. Meanwhile, my

vassals, led by my nephew----"

"Promise that which is within thy power," said the Prelate. "Who

knows whether, in resentment of thy seeking after other things

than HIS most holy cause, thy nephew may not be called hence, even

while we speak together?"

"God forbid!" said the Baron, starting up, as if about to fly to

his nephew's assistance; then suddenly pausing, he turned on the

Prelate a keen and investigating glance. "It is not well," he

said, "that your reverence should thus trifle with the dangers

which threaten my house. Damian is dear to me for his own good

qualities--dear for the sake of my only brother.--May God forgive

us both! he died when we were in unkindness with each other.--My

lord, your words import that my beloved nephew suffers pain and

incurs danger on account of my offences?" The Archbishop perceived

he had at length touched the chord to which his refractory

penitent's heart-strings must needs vibrate. He replied with

circumspection, as well knowing with whom he had to deal,--"Far be

it from me to presume to interpret the counsels of Heaven! but we

read in Scripture, that when the fathers eat sour grapes, the

teeth of the children are set on edge. What so reasonable as that

we should be punished for our pride and contumacy, by a judgment

specially calculated to abate and bend that spirit of surquedry?

[Footnote: Self-importance, or assumption.] You yourself best know

if this disease clung to thy nephew before you had meditated

defection from the banner of the Cross."

Hugo de Lacy hastily recollected himself, and found that it was

indeed true, that, until he thought of his union with Eveline,

there had appeared no change in his nephew's health. His silence

and confusion did not escape the artful Prelate. He took the hand

of the warrior as he stood before him overwhelmed in doubt, lest

his preference of the continuance of his own house to the rescue

of the Holy Sepulchre should have been punished by the disease

which threatened his nephew's life. "Come," he said, "noble De

Lacy--the judgment provoked by a moment's presumption may be even

yet averted by prayer and penitence. The dial went back at the

prayer of the good King Hezekiah--down, down upon thy knees, and

doubt not that, with confession, and penance, and absolution, thou

mayst yet atone for thy falling away from the cause of Heaven."

Borne down by the dictates of the religion in which he had been

educated, and by the fears lest his delay was punished by his

nephew's indisposition and danger, the Constable sunk on his knees

before the Prelate, whom he had shortly before well-nigh braved,

confessed, as a sin to be deeply repented of, his purpose of

delaying his departure for Palestine, and received, with patience

at least, if not with willing acquiescence, the penance inflicted

by the Archbishop; which consisted in a prohibition to proceed

farther in his proposed wedlock with the Lady Eveline, until he

was returned from Palestine, where he was bound by his vow to

abide for the term of three years.

"And now, noble De Lacy," said the Prelate, "once more my best

beloved and most honoured friend--is not thy bosom lighter since

thou hast thus nobly acquitted thee of thy debt to Heaven, and

cleansed thy gallant spirit from those selfish and earthly stains

which dimmed its brightness?"

The Constable sighed. "My happiest thoughts at this moment," he

said, "would arise from knowledge that my nephew's health is

amended."

"Be not discomforted on the score of the noble Damian, your

hopeful and valorous kinsman," said the Archbishop, "for well I

trust shortly ye shall hear of his recovery; or that, if it shall

please God to remove him to a better world, the passage shall be

so easy, and his arrival in yonder haven of bliss so speedy, that

it were better for him to have died than to have lived."

The Constable looked at him, as if to gather from his countenance

more certainty of his nephew's fate than his words seemed to

imply; and the Prelate, to escape being farther pressed on the

subject on which he was perhaps conscious he had ventured too far,

rung a silver bell which stood before him on the table, and

commanded the chaplain who entered at the summons, that he should

despatch a careful messenger to the lodging of Damian Lacy to

bring particular accounts of his health.

"A stranger," answered the chaplain, "just come from the sick

chamber of the noble Damian Lacy, waits here even now to have

speech of my Lord Constable."

"Admit him instantly," said the Archbishop--"my mind tells me he

brings us joyful tidings.--Never knew I such humble penitence,--

such willing resignation of natural affections and desires to the

doing of Heaven's service, but it was rewarded with a guerdon

either temporal or spiritual."

As he spoke, a man singularly dressed entered the apartment. His

garments, of various colours, and showily disposed, were none of

the newest or cleanest, neither were they altogether fitting for

the presence in which he now stood.

"How now, sirrah!" said the Prelate; "when was it that jugglers

and minstrels pressed into the company of such as we without

permission?"

"So please you," said the man, "my instant business was not with

your reverend lordship, but with my lord the Constable, to whom I

will hope that my good news may atone for my evil apparel."

"Speak, sirrah, does my kinsman live?" said the Constable eagerly.

"And is like to live, my lord," answered the man--"a favourable

crisis (so the leeches call it) hath taken place in his disorder,

and they are no longer under any apprehensions for his life."

"Now, God be praised, that hath granted me so much mercy!" said

the Constable.

"Amen, amen!" replied the Archbishop solemnly.--"About what period

did this blessed change take place?"

"Scarcely a quarter of an hour since," said the messenger, "a soft

sleep fell on the sick youth, like dew upon a parched field in

summer--he breathed freely--the burning heat abated--and, as I

said, the leeches no longer fear for his life."

"Marked you the hour, my Lord Constable?" said the Bishop, with

exultation--"Even then you stooped to those counsels which Heaven

suggested through the meanest of its servants! But two words

avouching penitence--but one brief prayer--and some kind saint has

interceded for an instant hearing, and a liberal granting of thy

petition. Noble Hugo," he continued, grasping his hand in a

species of enthusiasm, "surely Heaven designs to work high things

by the hand of him whose faults are thus readily forgiven--whose

prayer is thus instantly heard. For this shall _Te Deum

Laudamus_ be said in each church, and each convent in

Gloucester, ere the world be a day older."

The Constable, no less joyful, though perhaps less able to

perceive an especial providence in his nephew's recovery,

expressed his gratitude to the messenger of the good tidings, by

throwing him his purse.

"I thank you, noble lord," said the man; "but if I stoop to pick

up this taste of your bounty, it is only to restore it again to

the donor."

"How now, sir?" said the Constable, "methinks thy coat seems not

so well lined as needs make thee spurn at such a guerdon."

"He that designs to catch larks, my lord," replied the messenger,

"must not close his net upon sparrows--I have a greater boon to

ask of your lordship, and therefore I decline your present

gratuity."

"A greater boon, ha!" said the Constable,--"I am no knight-errant,

to bind myself by promise to grant it ere I know its import; but

do thou come to my pavilion to-morrow, and thou wilt not find me

unwilling to do what is reason."

So saying, he took leave of the Prelate, and returned homeward,

failing not to visit his nephew's lodging as he passed, where he

received the same pleasant assurances which had been communicated

by the messenger of the particoloured mantle.