Kitabı oku: «The Court Jester», sayfa 6

Le Glorieux and the two boys started out to see this wonderful saint. She stood in the forest within a five minutes' walk from the castle, in front of a great oak. She was a painted wooden figure about five feet in height, and she had been scorched by the summer sun and pelted by rainstorms until her garments were all a dull gray, her face, partly concealed by her nun's coif, wearing a self-satisfied simper not at all consistent with her garb.

"The good saint is not a tall woman," said Philibert, eying her critically. He walked all around the figure, mounted a stone behind it, and examined it closely. "Some day she will move when they least expect it," he said, "for she is not secure on her pedestal, and a storm will blow her over."

In spite of the fact that a late hour had been set for the visit to the saint, and the matter was supposed to be a secret carefully kept from the servants, when the time came to start a curious crowd gathered and followed the supposed culprit, her master and mistress and their guests, to the statue of Saint Monica.

By Cimburga's side walked a tall young man who was said to be the miller's son, and whose presence beside the accused was viewed with considerable astonishment by those who knew him, for his father was well-to-do, and his station was above that of Cimburga. The face of the girl was radiant with happiness, and those who observed her tranquil countenance wondered why she exhibited so little agitation at a time when she might be supposed to be in a state of despair.

It was a very solemn procession that walked out on that moonlight night. At present there exist comparatively few people who would expect a wooden saint to move, even from a motive so noble as to prove the innocence of an accused person; but, as has already been said, many strange things were believed in the fifteenth century.

Even all whispering ceased as they approached the saint. The princess, warmly wrapped in fur, was riding a little mule, and as Le Glorieux walked beside her she slipped a cold hand into his with a shiver of fear, and all stepped softly over the frosty ground as if fearful of something, they knew not what. The wind swept through the trees, rustling the dry leaves. Was the saint already moving? No, it was only the shadow of a limb, which, stirred by the wind, swayed above her head.

"Hist!" said the castle chaplain, though there was no need to call for silence, as none at that moment felt in the least like talking. Then, in a solemn voice, the priest invoked the saint to deign to decide the fate of the accused maiden then standing before her. Was she innocent of the sin of theft?

He paused, there was a breathless moment of expectancy, then Saint Monica really did move. There was no doubt about it. She bowed her head and raised her right hand! All saw her do it, as they would tell their children, and their children's children, for years to come. The priest murmured some words in Latin, then all returned immediately to the castle, for none seemed inclined to remain in the neighborhood of the saint who so kindly had set their minds at rest. All gathered in the chapel, where a Te Deum was sung, as it had been sung for the first time when the son of Saint Monica was converted.

As soon as the exercises in the chapel were concluded the little princess retired to her own apartments, whispering to Le Glorieux as she passed him, "Bring Cimburga and the miller's son to me, and let no one else accompany you."

Marveling at this summons, and wondering what the daughter of their future emperor could have to say to them, now that Saint Monica had decided in the girl's favor, settling the question of her innocence, the young couple followed the jester. The Lady Marguerite had dismissed even Cunegunda, and was all alone when they entered the room. She sat in a large chair, and in a rather unprincess-like fashion, for she had been chilled in the cold chapel, and she had drawn her feet up under the folds of her velvet gown. After the young couple had knelt at her feet, and had saluted her according to the custom of the time, she bade them stand before her, and Le Glorieux said with great frankness, "I will leave the room if you say so, little Princess; but to be strictly honest about it, I should like mightily to stay and hear what you have to say to these young folk, and you may be sure that I shall not mention it to a soul."

"It is not a secret," replied the princess; "I was only afraid that they might be embarrassed by an audience."

"They will not be embarrassed by my presence," said he quickly, "for a fool in a room is of no more importance than a cat."

"You make yourself of small account when it is to gain your own ends, but stay, if you like," she returned, laughing.

"And as I do like, I will stay," he returned, sitting down on the floor beside her chair.

The young couple, standing, blushing and abashed before her, gazed with awe at the little maiden, who seemed almost lost in the embrace of the huge chair in which she sat. But when they saw that her eyes were soft and shining, that her lips were curved into a friendly smile, they forgot for the moment that she was of royal blood, and would, doubtless, one day wear the crown of a mighty kingdom. A silver griffin of a sconce near by held a light in its claws, which fell full upon Cimburga and the miller's son. The latter was tall and straight, with an honest, noble countenance, and certainly there were many ladies who were not half so pretty as Cimburga. The little princess wondered why these humble people should be so handsome, and concluded that the good God had given them personal comeliness to make up for lack of worldly goods, for certainly the athletic figure of the youth could have been no handsomer clad in velvet and satin than in the plain garments he now wore, and the flash of jewels could have made the eyes of Cimburga no brighter than they were at this moment.

"Your name is Cimburga?" said Marguerite, addressing the girl; "that is a Polish name."

"Yes, your Highness, it is the name of my grandmother, who was born in Poland, and who was given the name of the mother of his Imperial Majesty, the grandfather of your gracious Highness."

"That is a mixture of relatives that makes my head ache," observed Le Glorieux.

"Then it may be wise for you to leave the room," replied the princess slyly.

"If I did anything wise I would not be a fool," he returned; "therefore I stay."

"It is true," said Marguerite, "that my great grandmother was Cimburga of Poland, and it is from her, they say, that the archduke, my father, inherited his great physical strength. And now, Cimburga, I want you to answer my questions and do not be afraid, for no harm shall come to you from anything you may say to me. That you did not commit the crime of which you are accused we all know now, and I felt from the first, but why had you been crying even before you were accused?"

The girl dropped her eyes and a very pretty color dyed her cheeks.

"Your Highness," she faltered, playing restlessly with the cord that laced her bodice, "it was because I was afraid that Karl and I could never wed. His father, your Highness, is a miller and a man of means, and he wishes his son to marry the weaver's daughter, who can bring him a dowry, while I have nothing. And I had reason to believe that he was ready to obey his father; but when this great trouble was sent upon me he came to say that he cared only for me, that he believed in my innocence, and that he would stand by my side let happen what would. And after that, your Highness, I was not afraid of anything that might come."

"Karl is a worthy youth," said the princess. "I have heard my good confessor say that there is nothing more beautiful in this world than the love that brings our friends to our side when fortune frowns, and that good friends are the stars that shine all the brighter when night is darkest. But it is not right to disobey one's parents, and you would not wed without your father's consent?"

Karl was about to reply, when Cimburga said quickly, "No, your Highness, but even if his father should never be willing for us to wed, it is a joy to know that he cares for me, and that when all others were against me he still had faith in me."

The little princess now realized that it is sometimes a great pleasure to be a person whose authority can be felt. She at once made up her mind that the mercenary miller should give his consent to the match, and that willingly, even gladly.

"What is the size of the dowry that this fortunate weaver's daughter will be able to bring to you?" she asked, turning to the young man.

"It is quite a large one, your Highness," he returned, with a sigh, as though he wished from the bottom of his heart that the thrifty weaver had been a gay spendthrift instead of having been a provident money-saver. And he mentioned a sum at which the Lady Marguerite smiled behind her hand, it seemed so small to her.

"Le Glorieux," said she, "go into my bedchamber and ask one of my women to give you the brass-bound box which will be found in the top of the chest."

The jester skipped gayly away to do her bidding and soon returned with the box clasped affectionately in his arms, and kneeling, he laid it on her lap. She took a purse from the box, and emptying the glittering coins in the chair beside her, she counted the pieces as she restored them one by one to the purse, which she handed to Cimburga, saying:

"Here is a greater dowry than the weaver's daughter will bring to her husband. I owe you something because one of my own suite has brought you so much trouble. I hope your marriage will be a happy one. Some day I too must marry, and a princess may not make her own choice. Say a prayer for me, Cimburga, that my betrothal may bring me the happiness that yours has brought to you. Petition the Holy Virgin for Marguerite of Hapsburg."

"Indeed and indeed I will, your gracious Highness," sobbed Cimburga, as she pressed the hem of Marguerite's robe to her lips. "The sun shall not set on a day of my life in which a prayer has not been said for you."

Le Glorieux rubbed his sleeve across his eyes, saying, "I do not like salt water in any shape. When I sail on it it makes me uncomfortable and ill, and it is equally disagreeable when it tries to drown a man's eyes."

CHAPTER VII
A PLEASANT SURPRISE FOR THE PRINCESS

On his way to bed Le Glorieux remembered that he had not seen Philibert during the whole evening, and passing the boy's room, he pushed open the door and looked in. The apartment was bathed in moonlight; its occupant lay on his couch wrapped in the unconsciousness of slumber. In contrast with the dark stuff of the cushion against which his cheek was pressed, his features were like those of a beautiful Greek god carved in cameo. As his visitor bent over him the boy woke with a start, exclaiming, "Oh, you frightened me, Le Glorieux! With those long points standing out on either side of your head you make a strange figure against the light, and I thought it was the Evil One with his long horns."

"If the Evil One makes a practice of calling upon people who have the cold and unfeeling nature of a carp, you will not escape a visit from him, I can tell you, my young friend," responded Le Glorieux sourly.

"What do you mean?" asked Philibert.

"What do I mean, indeed! Has it escaped your memory that your cousin Clotilde this very morning accused a pretty maid of stealing a moonstone, a winking, blinking face, and which – "

"Of course it has not escaped my memory, and what then?"

"What then indeed! Perhaps that same fine memory of yours will recall the fact that the whole matter was left to Saint Monica to decide?"

"I also remember that fact."

"And still you were not with us when we visited the good saint. You did not take the trouble to join the spectators."

"No."

"When everybody about the place, from my own princess down to the lowest scullion, was anxious to know what the saint would decide, you went to bed and slept through it all like an old man of ninety. I should like very much to know what kind of blood fills the veins of the people of Savoy!"

"Very warm and generous blood, I can assure you, my good fool."

"Then the supply must have been running very low when you were created, my little gentleman, and it was necessary to weaken it with a good deal of water."

Philibert, who had risen to a sitting posture, laughed and once more cuddled among his cushions. "Listen," said he. "The great clock in the tower is clanging the hour of twelve. It is the time when witches come forth and play their tricks. Be careful as you pass along the corridor lest one of them should mistake you for her elder brother and snatch at your long horns."

"They will have more business with you than with me, fair youth. Has any one been to tell you what Saint Monica replied? Did you not at least arrange with one of the servants to bring you the news?"

"No."

"And you have not enough interest in the matter even to ask me what was the result!"

"What did the saint do?" asked the boy, clasping his hands under his head and regarding the indignant jester.

"I have as good a mind as I ever had to swallow a bite to eat to let you wait until morning to find out."

"Considering, as you say, that I have no curiosity about the matter, do you think that would greatly disturb me?" asked Philibert. "But come, my good fellow," he added good-naturedly, "do not be angry with me. Perhaps I am overfond of my bed, and this couch is soft with the down of many fowls. Tell me what reply was made by Saint Monica."

"She came to life!" replied Le Glorieux, in a tone of awe, as he recalled the remarkable scene he had witnessed. "It is a great pity that she stood so much in shadow that we could not see her more plainly, but from the moment I beheld her I could see a palpitation as of life beneath her raiment."

"Could you see her face distinctly?"

"No, you know it is shaded by her coif. And all say that even before they saw her move they are quite certain that her head was not in quite the same pose as usual, so she must have moved even before we saw her."

"Are you very sure that you saw her move?" asked the boy.

"Am I sure! Am I sure that I am talking to you at this moment? We all saw her move; she bowed her head and raised her hand, and the cause of the girl has been vindicated. She is going to marry the miller's son, and my little princess has just given her gold enough to make a dowry beyond her wildest dreams."

"Did the Lady Marguerite do so?" cried the boy, showing interest and enthusiasm for the first time. "It is like her! She is just and generous, she is an angel."

"No, I could not call her an angel exactly," replied the jester, "for I have seen her eyes flash with anger more than once, though always in a good cause. Our little lady is not without her bit of temper."

"Le Glorieux," asked Philibert earnestly, "have you ever seen an opal?"

"Yes, the old Duchess of Burgundy wore one on her thumb. It is a stone with a red light that rolls about over a green surface."

"Well, it would not be so pretty without the red flame, and the princess would not be so perfect without her temper."

"A temper," said the jester, "is a good thing when it is only allowed to come out once in a great while, and that only in a good cause, but as a rule it should be kept under lock and key lest it should work destruction. But I must say good night, else the first streaks of dawn will find me on the outside of my bed, which to a man with my talent for sleeping would be a calamity."

If any one had thought to compare the Lady Clotilde to an opal that night, he would have said that the red flame had absorbed the whole of the stone. She was in a most captious state of mind, boxing the ears of her tiring-woman and scolding everybody within reach. The maid's innocence had been proven, but what good did this do the Lady Clotilde? The pendant was still missing. The whole household was rejoicing, just as if her jewel had been restored at the same time, when its loss was as great a mystery as ever!

"Fetch my book to me," she said when her woman had finished her other duties. "You were about to forget it when you know quite well that I could not sleep a wink without my devotional reading."

The maid placed on a little table beside her mistress a little Florentine lamp of silver that her lady always took with her when traveling. Beside it she placed a book bound in blue silk, with clasps and corners of silver. This volume was a treasure, for on the inside its letters were crimson, outlined with pure gold, and it told of the lives of the saints. But the Lady Clotilde's devotional reading was usually a pretense. It was well to make others believe that she was too pious to sleep until she had refreshed her mind with facts in the life of a saint, but as a rule she went to sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, and though to-night she was too restless to be overcome by slumber, the handsome book remained tightly clasped, with its gorgeous lettering, done by the patient hand of a monk, still shut from view.

The next day it seemed to Le Glorieux that there was a whistling sound of whispering all over the castle; maids and pages, with their heads close together in the corridors, would fly apart at his approach and assume an air of great unconcern, while a group of ladies in the corners talking all at once, as of something of vital interest, would close their lips tightly when they saw him coming, and one of the gentlemen actually said "Hush!" to the others when Le Glorieux suddenly appeared among them.

"Do you know why everybody is whispering and making themselves look like owls, little Cousin?" he asked the princess.

"They do not whisper when I am present; I know nothing about it," she returned. "I only know that in spite of the good cheer offered by our kind host, I am praying that the time may fly on swiftest wings so that I may soon see my father."

"Well, there is either a conspiracy on foot against me or else they are planning a pleasant surprise for me."

"Your imagination is playing you a trick, my good fool. Why should they be planning anything that concerns you?"

Cunegunda entered the room and, like almost every one else Le Glorieux had noticed that day, she wore a beaming smile.

"I have been so accustomed to see you down in the dumps that your present broad grin makes you seem like a stranger to me, Cunegunda," said he. "What is it that you know that makes you look like a beaming saint?"

"What it is that I know, do you ask, Sir Fool? What should I know save that the sky is blue and the air is crisp and clear?"

"The weather is a very good thing to be talked about by boobies who can think of no other subject of conversation," he retorted, "but it has never seemed to me to have a comical side, and there is nothing in it to bring out that broad smile."

"I am not smiling," said she; "my countenance is simply relaxed."

"Then do not relax it any further, or who can tell what the consequences may be?"

Still devoured with curiosity regarding the secret, which he was confident was also being kept from the princess, the fool wandered to the dining-hall, where a lively conversation was going on between the seneschal and the housekeeper. These functionaries were elderly people and both were very fat. They had been serving the count and countess from their youth, and during all those years seemed to have been running a race to see which would grow the stouter. The seneschal considered himself the most important person in the castle; the housekeeper was sure that the family would become extinct should she conclude to leave its service. Probably most of us feel the same about our own surroundings, but the chances are that the world will wag along just the same when we shall have ceased to grace it with our presence.

Having nothing more entertaining on hand at the moment, the jester paused and stood unseen in the shadow of the great chimney to hear what they were saying.

"Oh, me!" said the housekeeper, "I have so much to do with superintending those lazy maids and watching everything that goes on in the kitchen that it is a wonder that I have a bone in my body."

"Nobody knows whether you have a bone; there are no signs of any," replied the seneschal, taking up a silver jug and beginning to polish it with a great show of vigor.

"What are you doing?" asked the housekeeper sharply.

"I am polishing this jug; did you think I was playing the lute?"

"No doubt you consider that extremely funny," she retorted contemptuously, "but let me tell you that for a man of your age to try to be witty is like the frog trying to sing the notes of the nightingale. Oh, me, I have so much to do that I actually do not know where to begin! I wish that somebody would take as much interest in the management of this place as I do. I do not know what my Lady would do if I should drop out."

"You certainly would be missed," replied the seneschal.

She was greatly surprised at this reply from one who never would admit that she was of any value to her employers. "I am glad that you can see that I should be missed," said she, "and that at last you are coming to your senses."

"It does not require any great amount of wisdom to make such a remark," he returned, surveying the jug with one eye closed, "since it would be very singular if a person of your size would drop out of any place and not be missed."

"There you go again, Mr. Frog! Perhaps the old emperor wants a jester to cheer him up. Do you not think it would be a good plan to apply for the position?"

"I do not know that I should care to do so, but at the same time I think he might do worse than to employ me."

"Of all things in this world this is the most wonderful! Is there no limit to your self-satisfaction?"

"If we are not satisfied with ourselves who will be satisfied with us?" he asked. "I am sure that I could make myself fully as useful to his Imperial Majesty as to my present master and mistress."

"And that is not saying a great deal," replied the housekeeper, with a sniff.

"What do you mean? How could the place get on without me? Where is the man in my position who does so much outside of his proper duties? When they are starting to the hunt, who always watches them depart? I do. Who always places the hawk on my lady's wrist? I do. Who else could do it to her satisfaction? No one. I taste everything that comes to the table, for no one else has so delicate a sense of taste or can so quickly detect the absence of the right flavor. And then I keep my eye on all the maids and pages to see that they do not idle away their time."

The housekeeper tossed her head scornfully. "As to placing the hawk on my lady's wrist, I can see no great amount of labor in that. As to 'tasting' the food as you do, which consists of dipping an amount from each dish, seasoning it well and eating it, I am sure there are plenty who would be glad to take your place and consider it no hardship. I notice too that you taste the wine which has been in the cellar for a hundred years, and which our master already knows all about. Do you consider that necessary?"

"Did you never hear, my good woman, of a poisonous drug being dropped into a bottle by a scoundrel of a servant?"

"No servant of this house ever has tried to poison his master."

"That is true, but who knows when such a thing might happen? It is always well to be prepared for the worst."

"Since you open the bottles yourself, none else has a chance to put in the poison," she replied, determined to argue the question into shreds.

"Even supposing that no one had an opportunity with the bottles," said the seneschal, "did you never hear of such a thing as chemical action?"

"No, and I want to know nothing of such Satan's work."

"Whether you know it or not, changes take place in liquids sometimes that make them most dangerous, and who can tell what has been going on in a pipe of wine that has had nothing to do for the last century but to get into mischief?"

"It is very thoughtful of you to be so willing to sacrifice yourself," said the housekeeper, with all the sarcasm in her voice that she could manage and be understood at the same time; "but do leave that jug alone! It is my business to see to such things."

"I do not deny that statement, but until I took it up, this jug was as dull as the sun behind a fog. Look at it now! A lady could see to rouge her face by it."

"There is no difference in it to what it was before you touched it. But I must go and look after the cook, for the supper to-night must be the triumph of our lives. I hope that we shall not have to wait for our guest, or the dishes may be spoiled."

"He will not mind; he was as gay and easy to please as a burgher when he visited here before," said the seneschal; adding, "I wonder if they have succeeded in keeping the secret from the Lady Marguerite?"

"Oh, yes; all understand that she is not to know."

"I am surprised," said the seneschal, "that a secret so important can be kept by a lot of cackling women."

"Dame Cunegunda says her Highness, the princess, is all impatience to be away," said the housekeeper, who scorned to make any reply to this last taunt. "She will be almost out of her mind with delight when he comes."

"Hush! we were told not even to mention his name, for the very walls have ears when a secret is to be kept."

"I am not mentioning any names."

"The friar who stayed the night here," said the seneschal, "told me something about him. The friar was at Ulm when he whom we expect was at that city. The cathedral at Ulm has a very tall tower, and nearly four hundred steps lead to the top of it. Well, he whom we expect climbed to the top of the tower and stood on one leg on the top of it and turned around! The friar said if any other man had attempted such a feat he surely would have fallen and have been dashed to pieces. But he whom we expect is as brave as a lion, and it was one of his pranks, for he is gay and full of fun."

"How wonderful!" exclaimed the housekeeper, looking up from the silver bowl she was polishing.

"Yes, indeed. And the friar said that while none could be more gracious, none knows better than he how to keep upstarts in their places."

"Than the friar?" asked the housekeeper.

"No, Mrs. Stupid, than he whom we expect. The friar told how an ambassador from the King of Denmark came. The ambassador was very high and mighty. In his opinion no ruler was so good as the King of Denmark, and out of respect to his own ruler the ambassador delivered the message sitting. Then he whom we expect rose to his feet and remained standing during the interview, and the ambassador was obliged to stand also from very shame."

"I am glad that you are forced to acknowledge that something good can come out of my country," said the housekeeper, who was an Austrian, and ended her remarks with a chuckle of delight, for the seneschal was Flemish.

"My friends," said Le Glorieux, coming forward and giving the worthy couple a start of surprise as he did so, "as I understand the matter, you are trying to keep a secret."

"Yes, Sir Fool, and we have not revealed it," replied the seneschal proudly, saying, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Ever since you began to polish that jug. You were talking so loud that I did not think you were saying anything that I could not hear as well as not."

"And you heard nothing!" declared the housekeeper triumphantly. "You, sir, were to be kept in the dark, lest in your merry way you should reveal to the princess what she is not to know, and even though you have been standing there all that time, you have heard nothing, for we have mentioned no names."

"I have heard," said the jester, "of a bird found in Africa called the ostrich. This very wise fowl when it wants to conceal itself hides its head in the sand and leaves its big bulky body in plain view. You remind me of this bird. You have mentioned no names, of course, but who is it that the princess most desires to see? Maximilian. Who would be most likely to climb to the top of a tower and turn around on one leg? Maximilian. Who would make an impudent ambassador ashamed of himself? Maximilian."

"Hist, sir! Pray hush," said the housekeeper. "That name must not be mentioned, else it will reach the ears of her little Highness, the Lady Marguerite."

"My little princess is in the other wing of the castle, and in order to hear me she would have to have a sense of hearing sharper than any chamois that ever leaped a chasm. And now that you see that I know all about it, suppose you tell me how you know that the archduke, the King of the Romans – in other words, Maximilian – is coming."

"A messenger arrived last night from Ghent to tell us. His Highness does not want the princess to know of his coming; he wishes to see if she will recognize him," said the housekeeper.

"And they wanted this secret kept from me? I do not deny being a fool, for that is how I keep my position at court, but do they think that I am a baby who forgets what it has seen last month? Did I not see Max when he was married, and is it reasonable to suppose that I have entirely forgotten how he looks? They might have known that it would be safer to tell me all about it. If I had seen him coming I might have bawled, 'Little Princess, here comes your father!' and that would have spoiled it all."

"I do not think they remembered that you had already seen him," said the seneschal; "at any rate we were told to keep the secret from you."

"It is a great mistake to try to keep a secret from me," said the fool, "for I always find things out. As well try to keep the presence of the cheese a secret from the mouse, as to try to keep anything from me. And since you have been telling stories about Max, I will tell you one that I heard. One day when he was riding home from the chase, a beggar accosted him. 'Please give me alms, your Highness,' said the beggar, who was one of the whining kind; 'although I am of lowly birth, still we are all brothers and should help each other.' Max handed him a penny, saying, 'Take this, my good man, and if all your brothers give you as much, you will be richer than I.' It may be that Max did not have much money with him at the time; I am sure he did not if it was before his marriage, for nearly all his wealth came from Burgundy and Flanders."