Agincourt (Historical Novel). G. P. R. James
him has made him think of other things, men say; but, doubtless, you know better than I do?"
"Nay, I know nought about it," said his fellow traveller; "but it is predicted that he shall die at Jerusalem."
"Heaven send it," exclaimed Woodville; "for if he live till then, his will be a long reign, methinks."
"Amen!" rejoined the other; "but whither thought you, then, to go?"
"Perchance to the court of Burgundy," replied Richard; "or to some of those Italian states, where there are ever hard blows to be found, and honour to be gained by doughty deeds."
"That famous land of Italy is somewhat far from our poor northern isle," answered Hal of Hadnock; "especially for a lover. Methinks Burgundy were best; but, doubtless, since you have come back again, your resolution has been left on the road behind us."
"No, not a whit," cried Woodville; "what I judged best in haste some hours ago, I now judge best at leisure. I have told Mary that I go for her sweet sake, to make me a high name, and with Heaven's blessing I will do it."
"Well, then," answered his new friend, "if such be your determination, I know some noble gentlemen in the court of that same Duke of Burgundy, who may aid your advancement for Hal of Hadnock's sake."
Richard of Woodville smiled, replying, "Doubtless, you do, fair sir; but may I tell them you sent me to them?"
"If you will but wait a day or two," said the other, "I will write them a letter, which you shall take yourself; and you will find that I have bespoke you kind entertainment."
"Thanks, noble sir--many hearty thanks," rejoined the old knight's nephew; "wait for a time I must, for I will not go solitary and unprepared. I must have horses, and men, and arms of the new fashion. I must also sell some acres of new copse, and some tons of old wine, to equip me for my own journey."
"Well, then, ere you go, you shall hear more from me," replied Hal of Hadnock; "and now, good Richard, let us talk more of the folks in the hall. I would fain hear farther. This Sir Harry Dacre, his face pleases me; there is thought and a high heart therein, or I read not nature's book aright. Methinks, if he were wise, he too would seek renown in arms, instead of dangling at a lady's side that loves him not. Perchance, if he were to seem to cast her by as worthless, and fix on honour for a mistress, her love--for who can tell all the wild whimsies of a capricious woman's heart?--would follow him."
"He might think that worse than the other," said Woodville; "I do not think he seeks her love."
"There he is wrong," answered his companion; "for it is against all rule of philosophy, when we are bound by a chain we cannot break, to let it rust and canker in our flesh. It is as well to polish it with any soft thing we can find; and, granted that she has lost his love, 'twere well he should have hers, if she is to be his wife."
"Perhaps he may long to break the chain," replied Richard, drily; "were both to seek it, such contracts have been annulled by law, and by the Church, ere now; and the Pope, or at least his cardinals, are not always stubborn against gold and reason. But I doubt she will consent," he added; "she loves a captive, and if she sees he seeks his freedom, she will resist of course."
"A most sweet temper," observed Hal of Hadnock; "yet it is to be thought of; and if I can help him, I will. Tomorrow early, indeed, I thought to speed me back to Westminster; but I will stay an hour or two, and see if I cannot play with a capricious lady, with art equal to her own. At all events, I shall learn more of what are her designs."
"Designs! she has none!" exclaimed Richard of Woodville, "but to reign and triumph for the hour. Here has been Simeon of Roydon, doing her homage for these three days, as if she were the Queen of Love; and she has smiled upon him, for she still fancies she can so give Dacre pain; but no sooner did you come, than she turned all the archery of her eyes on you."
"Yet left a blank target," replied Hal of Hadnock. "But of this Sir Simeon of Roydon I would have honest men beware, my good friend. I know something of him."
"And he of you," answered Woodville.
"Ay?" asked his companion, "what makes you fancy so?"
"Why I too am one of those who use their eyes, fair sir," said Woodville.
"And not their tongues, good friend," rejoined the other. "Well, you are wise. But tell me, did not Sir Harry Dacre go with the Duke of Clarence into France?"
"Yes, it was there he gained his spurs last year," answered Richard; "he fought well, too, at Bramham Moor; and earlier still, when a mere boy, against the Scots, when they last broke in:--
'Muche hath Scotland forlore,
What at last, what before,
And little pries wonne.'"
"I thought I had heard of him," replied Hal of Hadnock. "However, if you hold your mind to go to-morrow, we will ride together, and can talk further of these matters by the way; so, for the present, good night, and fair dreams attend you."
"I must go and bid one of the men sleep across your door," said Richard of Woodville: "though this house is safe enough, yet it is as well always to be careful."
"It matters not, it matters not," answered his companion. "I have never found a man, against whom my own hand could not keep my head or my heart."
"As for your heart, sir," rejoined Woodville, laughing; "you may yet find a woman who will teach you better."
"I know not," replied Hal of Hadnock, laughing; "I am strong there, too; but no one can tell what is written in the stars," and thus they parted.
CHAPTER IV.
THE GLUTTON MASS.
Breakfast was over, and yet, between the lower edge of the sun and the gentle sweeping line of the hills above which he was rising, not more than two hand-breadths of golden sky could be seen; for our ancestors were still, at that period, a matutinal people, rising generally before the peep of day, and hearing the birds' first song. On a large, smooth green, at the back of the Hall, yet within the limits of the park by which it was surrounded, with Dunbury Hill and the lines of the ancient invaders' camp at the top, rising still grey and cold before their eyes, the group which we have described in the second chapter, with the exception of the Abbot, was assembled to practise or to witness some of the sports of the day. The ladies, having their heads now covered with the strange and somewhat cumbrous coifs then worn, stood upon a stone-paved path, watching the proceedings of their male companions; and with them appeared good Sir Philip Beauchamp, in a long furred gown, with Hal of Hadnock, talking gaily to Catherine, on his right hand.
"Well pitched, Hugh of Clatford," cried the old knight; "well pitched; a toise beyond Sir Simeon."
"I will beat him by two," exclaimed Richard of Woodville, taking the heavy iron bar which they were engaged in casting. "Here goes!" and, after balancing it for a moment in his hand, he tossed it high in the air, sending it several yards beyond any one who had yet played their part.
"Will you not try your arm, noble sir?" asked Sir Philip, turning to Hal of Hadnock.
"Willingly, willingly," replied the guest; "but Sir Henry Dacre has not yet shown his skill."
"He will not do much," said Catherine Beauchamp, in a low tone.
"Fie, Kate," cried Isabel, who overheard her; "that is untrue, as well as unkind."
As she spoke, Dacre took the bar, which had been brought back by one of the pages, and, without pausing to poise it carefully, as the rest had done, cast it within a foot or two of the spot which it had reached when sent from the hand of Woodville.
Hal of Hadnock then advanced, looking round with a gay laugh to the ladies, and saying, "I am upon my mettle before such bright eyes. Here, boy, give me the bar."
The page placed it in his hand; and, setting his right foot upon the mark