Clemence Housman - The Life of Sir Aglovale de Galis - Chapter XIX lyrics

THROUGH Cardigan Castle and town went stir and buzz on Sir Aglovale's return, for rumour of variance and defiance was already about. Old knights and retainers spoke of the brim and merry day when he had gathered round him all with a grievance in Galis, and mischief had threatened till King Pellinore came down with a strong hand to cut it short. So now they questioned what manner of day might be at hand; certain it would not be merry. But on the morrow conjecture was stricken to a pause, for Sir Aglovale was found tranced and rigid as once before; and so he lay for two days, till by blood-letting and exorcism he was restored to his senses. His leech, that same good wiseacre, again warned him against strong meats and wine, and against deadly sin, and namely warned him against hardness of heart. Another two days went by, and still his purposes lay dark. It was told how all that while he rested and meditated, gazing out with level eyes against the horizon, from dawn to dark, from dark to dawn, without sleep. Too far away did Sir Aglovale set his gaze to take note of a noble knight, pa**ing down, as the sun went low, to the cover of Cardigan walls. Indifferently he heard that one was come to the castle gates who would not give his name save by the mouth of a fair child to Sir Aglovale himself. Indifferently he lifted his eyes as young Mariet came before him. From the first moment his heart gave towards this boy, who in feature was strangely like Lamorak at his age, and like Percivale in his delicate grace. He was solemn as d**h. "Fair child," said Aglovale, gently, "speak in God's name! Say who you are, and who sends you." He marvelled greatly, but sooth he needed not the telling. "Sir," said Mariet, "my father, Sir Hermind, sends me before him to bespeak him a hearing on a matter to concern you both. Below at the gates he waits to know if it be your will to receive him at all, or secretly, or openly." "I will well," said Aglovale. He rose unsteadily, and laid his hand heavily on the boy. "Be my stay, fair child, an you can bear more than a little." "Yea, sir, I hope I can," said Mariet, and braced his slight strength to the weight. So Sir Aglovale staggered down into hall, and bade the gates be opened, and sent out the two young squires his nephews, and came to the threshold with the child still under his hand. "Enter, Sir Hermind!" he called. "Enter to me, fair lord and cousin, as I may not quit the room of these walls to come out to you at my own pleasure." Straightway Sir Hermind lighted down and came close, and they looked each other hard in the visage till both were satisfied. Yet neither offered the kiss at that time. Said Sir Aglovale, "Fair lord, put your hand upon me and come in." And so he brought him into hall an honoured guest, to the great astonishment of all there; and he set him at the board, and together they eat and drank. Never could Sir Hermind quite love his strange kinsman; never could he quite pity him. Under his hand he felt him totter, he saw him aged, broken, worn, he heard him speak deference; and in his heart he worshipped him, weak and sad and meek, knowing him aloof and far from need of pity and love. They came to private speech that night after the supper. "Fair lord," said Sir Aglovale, "waste no doubt on what you have come to say. However it be, my will is to take it as it is meant." Thereupon Sir Hermind choked and swallowed before he could bring it out. "As you say, so keep. Sir Aglovale, I mean to give you my son Mariet if you will take him." Startled and amazed beyond measure, Sir Aglovale stammered after him. "You mean to give me your son Mariet if I will take him! God in heaven, this is beyond me!" His blank bewilderment knocked Sir Hermind hard. "God's truth!" said he, wording low and strong, "well I know you could make of my son a better man than his father. Yea, for a man of singular worth and integrity you have made from beginnings that, to speak plain, did not promise so much excellence." "Nay," stammered Aglovale, "Percivale was born excellent, but I saw his promise before others." "I go not so far as to speak of Sir Percivale. But as to you, Sir Aglovale oh, 'tis pity you have no son of your own body to bring up after you." "Cease, cease. You look in the dark. We live all in the dark here below. Nay, pity were any issue of mine to run on! Cease, you say too much for me." Sir Hermind would not cease; he went on to tell Sir Aglovale in what light he saw him, and held him dumb with amazement. Only a pair well matched in honesty could so encounter for good; each at his disadvantage was exposed to no contumely. High-minded above scruples of pride and shame, the one said what he had to say without a doubt, and the other heard him so as he meant. Aglovale could not speak. He smote down his head in true humility that has no taint of bitterness. As soon as he could he asked as to Mariet, and Sir Hermind called in his son and bade him answer for himself. The boy said simply that his father's will was his, and that he also had learned to worship Sir Aglovale. "Ah, Sir Hermind," said Aglovale, "have you taught him so little of me that he knows of no blame?" "He knows enough, as you may ask him." Aglovale eyed the boy sadly. "I tell you, child, the worst you can have heard against me was true, and short of the truth." "Fair sir, but you know not what is said; and well I know it is not true at all." Said Aglovale, patiently, "Say out now what is said." "Sir, that you are not thoroughly honest and loyal at heart, but a close traitor." "What now?" cried Aglovale. "Yea, sir, here and now." Aglovale turned upon Sir Hermind with a faint smile. "And so you came to a**ay me?" "To justify you." "Fair lord, that was nobly done, but it was needless. Waste no care on me, waste not your son on me, an that be all you came for." "Not all. Take you my son for his good, as for his good I give him up to you. Mend him of my faults. Make him in head and heart stronger than I to rule Galis when he shall be called. Take him as you took Sir Percivale, and may God reward him to you as well." At that Sir Aglovale forgot their presence, and gazed worlds beyond them; and silent they waited, marvelling to see that stern and unlovely visage alter and relax, and glow to a vision remote, as a crag takes up light from the sun departed. He came to them again, weak and shaken. "Thanks be to God Almighty in all His ways," he said faintly; and soon, more strongly, "Gentle hearts, as God only knows, I am grateful for these your good ways towards me." "Take up, then, my son in God's name." He stayed from answer, and, kneeling down, gave himself to prayer awhile, Sir Hermind and Mariet kneeling with him. Then he stood and said, "Not as I took Percivale: him I took and kept in ignorance, to his sorrow later." He took Mariet by the hand, and painfully told him, while he shrank, of much iniquity done; and told him how he had shamed and troubled his father's house; and told him namely how his son unborn died for his sins in the womb. Cried Mariet, shaking, "I know, I know all that, but I know better." Said Sir Hermind, "God 'a mercy, Sir Aglovale, cut this short! For, look you, the best the child knows of you is also short of the truth." He broke off as the folly and wrong of his silence to Percivale cut home. Deaf to the voice of Sir Hermind, inwardly he heard the earnest cry, "Brother Sir Aglovale, I swear I love you;" and the face of Percivale, child and man, weeping for him, made dim his eyes. Mariet was kneeling, holding his knees; he put down his hand and felt cold fingers and a pa**ive head. Mariet, with all his generous faith, had no heart's-giving as yet. "God help me, child, to do by you better than by Percivale." He bowed his head and wept heavily, as it were for the burial of Percivale. "Fair cousins, give me room awhile for a grief that is all my own," he said faintly. "I am too spent at this time to hansel joy also." Sooth his pious old leech had left him too little blood to carry him through: he ended in a swoon. Sir Hermind watched him out of it and into sleep; for that night he slept again, to dreamless peace. It was wonder to see man alive so rest like one of the blessed dead. In due form, according to law and religion, before God and man, Sir Aglovale took Mariet from the hands of his father. And the same day that this was accomplished came Sir Lamiel of Cardiff with a great plump of spears and beset the gates, calling on high to Sir Aglovale to come out and answer for his treason, or deliver up Sir Hermind and his young son. Then there was sport; Sir Hermind prayed Sir Aglovale to lend him his harness, and so armed he went out and smote down Sir Lamiel at the barriers, and six others beside, with one spear. Then he turned in again, and Mariet came out lightly, took Sir Lamiel by the finger, and brought him in to ease his mind and to better his judgment. But that sturdy knight came to no clear understanding, and ever doubted there was some foul practice behind the fair show put before him. Privily he warned Sir Hermind how once Sir Aglovale had carried off the boy Percivale, and kept him by the sword from his brothers till he worked his ill-will, driving Sir Durnor out of Galis; and how after that he had broken faith, and again carried off the boy to sea till Sir Lamorak granted him all his demands. After this manner, he said, did Sir Aglovale fulfil the fealty he had vowed with a show of towardness. Yet his brothers all, of their goodness, were close, and for his credit cloked the matter as best they might. But ever he would take advantage of forbearance, and head as he chose in maugre and contempt. His father, King Pellinore, was more shrewd in his dealings, turned him adrift when he proved curst and intolerable; on a flourish of disaffection laid him up in irons here in his own castle of Cardigan, with him, Sir Lamiel, for his keeper. "Gramercy, Sir Lamiel, for your counsel and good will; but I tell you I shall not require you for any such service. And I warn you, utter not such malignant stuff against Sir Aglovale in Galis, or by my head you shall go elsewhere to rue it." Said Sir Lamiel, "Fair lord, you play it off well." "Look you! I have played off my son Mariet in this game, and count him well lost to Sir Aglovale's adoption." "Fie! Has he not sons enough of his own on the ground! Marry! your gentle among those kites!" "What sons?" "Whose are those two squires swart and bold-eyed? Have you no eyes to see?" "I have seen; I have asked. They are ba*tards, and Sir Durnor's." "So he pleases to say. Be not so sure. By your leave I will venture the question." So he did. Sir Aglovale stiffened and eyed him intent a moment. "To the best of my belief they are not mine, but Sir Durnor's." "Neither? By the faith of your body?" "How, sir? Let such asking be put upon mothers of sons. Neither these nor any sons have been brought home to me." "All played off, forsooth!" returned Sir Lamiel. Cried Sir Hermind, "Hold! I will hear no more. This cast is too base." "Fair sir, not a whit. I have known Sir Aglovale twice as long as you. I tell you before his face he has too unclean a record to be fit to touch your son without offence to your worship and that of your noble lady. There be some few in Galis who rear up sons that they doubt on his account. Sir, I would say more but that I am under his roof." Said Sir Aglovale, "Under this roof you never had cause to say so much. Your keeping was proof enough!" Upon that Sir Lamiel used terms so strong that Sir Hermind denied him further audience, and he departed in dudgeon from Cardigan. But he left Sir Hermind troubled. "I deemed him a noble knight, staunch and upright." "I know him, and so he is." "He interprets you vilely." Said Sir Aglovale, after a pause, "Fair lord, 'tis well you should hear what reason he has. "As you must know, my father, King Pellinore, once punished me hard. Here in Cardigan he left me close prisoned, and Sir Lamiel he set in charge. I was very strictly kept; he was neither harsh nor kind, but exact upon an irksome duty. So for near half a year under this roof each occupied his place, with a brief interchange of words twice daily. "Once the wind blew over the sound of a sweet shrill laugh, and his voice imperative hushing it. So only did I know his young wife was with him to lighten his dreary days. I was hot and restless for a day or more; the fret wore off; that hushing of his was final. I never set eyes upon that fair lady till the day of release. "My brother Tor came with order of release, and he wept for joy and sorrow to see me. I staggered on the stairway, off my balance at first stepping free, and at that he took me off my feet and carried me. Half blind he blundered, and before Sir Lamiel could stay us we had startled in her privacy his fair wife. I saw her very fair as she rose in a flutter, and without keep I regarded her. She stopped dead and returned my gaze with a face of eager compa**ion, while her colour rose and paled again. She turned to her lord with a deep sigh, and sank into his arms swooning. And so her happy wedlock was lighted." Said Sir Hermind, "Was it so? Now I partly guess not altogether." "Sooth, the case should not be incredible. My mother, when she carried me, looked on the Questing Beast, and some do see a trace. But Sir Lamiel held the truth incredible when some months later his wife was brought to bed of a girl, swart like me, with a trick of face like mine. Though I was in irons, though I never saw human creature save in his presence, he could not be satisfied." "You were altogether clear by absolute proof." "Fair lord, at that time the name I had told to such effect." "Why do you tell this tale?" "Fair lord, at this time the name I had tells to some effect." "I look to amend that somewhat." "It is no use." "Refuse not that is your due, Sir Aglovale. Here in Galis I have more credit than I deserve, and you by so much the less." "As to that, you and I have not in the past been altogether open and void of deceit for our ends in Galis. Cloke and mask was our habit for long. We sought no confidence, we gained none, we deserve none. So let be each to each as we were, and God grant so as we shall be, without a doubt to the end, notwithstanding broken teeth." For all Sir Aglovale could say, Sir Hermind would pursue his vain purpose. But he won few to believe that he in pure honour and worship had bestowed his son to the keep of Sir Aglovale, whom he would no more suffer to meddle in Galis. The leaden year wore on to the feast of Christmas. Now, when the midnight ma** was over, Sir Aglovale went down and issued to the night alone to take the breath of enlargement between the snow and the stars. That natural move of his was shrewdly awaited. He saw a shadow suddenly stretch out beside his own on the moonlit snow; quick he wheeled; quicker came down a stab, smitten so deep and hard that he pitched face forward to a stunning fall. So the villain left him, and fled, and was never traced. He was found with a knife stuck in his back with a missive spitted upon it. The blow had shattered the seal, and in the flurry and dismay ensuing that missive was hastily opened and read. The thing was horrible : there, writ large, was greeting for peace and good will from Sir Hermind. But Sir Aglovale, when he came to his senses and had knowledge of the missive, showed little discomposure. He had it spread open before his eyes, and read it, twisting a dreary smile. But soon he perceived too much intelligence in the eyes about him, and, looking at the broken seal, understood that privity was unhappily gone. Then he was discomposed out of measure. He strove to speak, called "Mariet!" with a great expense of blood, and swooned away. The knife had gone through to the lungs dangerously far; he was warned for his life against speaking then awhile. Mariet came to the fore. He crept up, sobbing miserably, but at a look and a touch he was sobbing more for joy. "Fair lord, you do know, you do know! Fair lord, let me speak out to these present. He knows! Sir Aglovale does know, that Sir Hermind had no thought nor part in this wickedness." He kissed the hand that held him; he ventured close and kissed Sir Aglovale's cheek. So was love right filial first delivered. The child was sage beyond his years ; he considered how Sir Aglovale had not the art of writing, nor voice to indite, so himself he sought a clerk, and a letter to Sir Hermind was written, and read out to Sir Aglovale for sanction. It shook him perilously with covert sob and laughter. This was the body of it: "Fair sire, I would you were here. The villain you sent has laid Sir Aglovale low with a knife in his back so that he cannot speak. Howbeit, I do not think he will die thereof. Fair sire, he knows what is truth and so do I; but others do not, though they make pretence, save Michael and John, who do not hide misdoubt. The villain has escaped. Fair sire, I would you were here to deal against misdoubt and pretence. Fair sire, I now do love Sir Aglovale as I love another, but not near so well. I, Mariet, am deeply distressed for you both." That letter brought Sir Hermind as soon as he could stand and go, for he had been sick of a fever at that time of wretched miscarriage, or doubtless he had not tarried so far from a sight of Mariet, and the kiss of peace when it was due. Sir Aglovale by then could also stand and go a little, and unadvisedly he came out and stood up for the rite of greeting; for even as Sir Hermind embraced him, crying out on his unhappiness, the wound broke inwardly, and he answered, "Ah, peace!" with a gush of blood. Alas! here for foul evidence was the accusation of blood; all fair show was darkened by the stain of it. Sir Hermind himself was plainly troubled when he came to private speech. Said Sir Aglovale, "I need no telling to understand this mischief. I knew the hand against me was the hand of that savage hangdog of mine who served me well to his cost. Almost I was sure by his shadow; with your missive to boot I understood enough." "So do not I. The knave was surly but trusty, as you said. This devilry of his is beyond me." Aglovale lay silent, biting a dreary smile, till Sir Hermind pressed him to be plain. "Sure, sir, the fact is plain: the man serves me with your favour, pins it to my back on his knife. The dog has his humour. "Is that not plain enough? You sent him to me, him that lent me steady faithful service on the warrant of my word to bear him through, to me that failed him, and surrendered him, and stood by him only at his punishment for my transgressions, and my warrant worthless." "God 'a mercy, you paid him off handsomely." "I paid him for his skin. I did not dare offer to buy up his grievance, he a free Briton. Now I think that has been paid for." "By my head, this is bitter!" "By your head, it was bitter! It is over." "Sir Aglovale, for the good of Galis I had to break you." "For the good of Galis I was broken. Also for the good of Galis cast me aside." "Fair cousin," said Sir Hermind, sorrowfully, "I was so blank that I was come to ask you why your blood rose against me." Said Aglovale, wearily, "As to that, fair cousin, you pressed me too hard for my condition. For, to be plain, Sir Hermind, you do not love me; you never will. Nor do I you quite. You know me, you trust me, you worship me when you can, you break me when you must with a loth heart. I you no less. I have knocked you in my way, and you have knocked me in yours, but for all that no shade of rancour has ever come between us, nor ever will. Rancour, no! Love, no! But hard truth and honest understanding to rest upon I pray we keep always, and namely for the sake of Mariet." He was pa**ing weak and low at the end of speech, and so Sir Hermind meditated all silent some while before he took up the word. "For the sake of Mariet and for the sake of truth I pray you grant me one request." Said Aglovale, smiling, "Nay! Give me your bidding." "Let us go together before King Arthur." Aglovale lay staring with a fallen countenance. "Sir, on my own account I am bound to the court of King Arthur, so soon as I can ride. Sir, at your pleasure so be it. Yet to what purpose?" Said Sir Hermind, "Look you, Sir Aglovale! you and I and Mariet are here so set in a coil of doubt and suspicion! It were well to lay the matter in the hands of our noble lord King Arthur, for his sanction and approval would justify us above suspicion, and stand us right before the world." Aglovale lay mute, his visage was drawn and grey, and he took his breath so heavily that Hermind was in dread of blood anew. Came voice at last, "King Arthur would not sanction and approve. His face is a very sword ready as any knife to pin upon me your good worship in scorn and disgust. He would be justified by right of overrule to take away Mariet out of my hands." Few and feeble were the words, but they told much to Sir Hermind: how dearly he prized Mariet. He in a heat cried, "By Heaven! but I will so sound your worship before King Arthur, that he must needs give ear and alter his countenance." Said Aglovale, faintly, "It is no use; King Arthur would not give ear nor alter his countenance, though Percivale himself came from the dead to speak for me." "From the dead!" breathed Hermind. "Dead! Sir Percivale dead!" There was no response. "God rest his soul," he prayed; and, awestruck, he gazed down upon Sir Aglovale, for he saw once more that afterglow lighten his countenance. Prayed Aglovale, "God rest his soul. Ah God! Mariet! Look down, and overrule Thou us, for the making of Mariet!"