Maid Marian | Page 9

to the love of the fern and the foxglove. Had
either been less sylvan, the other might have been more saintly; but
they will now never hear matins but those of the lark, nor reverence
vaulted aisle but that of the greenwood canopy. They are twin plants of
the forest, and are identified with its growth.
For the slender beech and the sapling oak, That grow by the shadowy
rill, You may cut down both at a single stroke, You may cut down
which you will.
But this you must know, that as long as they grow Whatever change

may be, You never can teach either oak or beech To be aught but a
greenwood tree."


CHAPTER III
Inflamed wrath in glowing breast.--BUTLER.
The knight and the friar arriving at Arlingford Castle, and leaving their
horses in the care of lady Matilda's groom, with whom the friar was in
great favour, were ushered into a stately apartment, where they found
the baron alone, flourishing an enormous carving-knife over a brother
baron--of beef-- with as much vehemence of action as if he were
cutting down an enemy. The baron was a gentleman of a fierce and
choleric temperament: he was lineally descended from the redoubtable
Fierabras of Normandy, who came over to England with the Conqueror,
and who, in the battle of Hastings, killed with his own hand
four-and-twenty Saxon cavaliers all on a row. The very excess of the
baron's internal rage on the preceding day had smothered its external
manifestation: he was so equally angry with both parties, that he knew
not on which to vent his wrath. He was enraged with the earl for having
brought himself into such a dilemma without his privily; and he was no
less enraged with the king's men for their very unseasonable intrusion.
He could willingly have fallen upon both parties, but, he must
necessarily have begun with one; and he felt that on whichever side he
should strike the first blow, his retainers would immediately join battle.
He had therefore contented himself with forcing away his daughter
from the scene of action. In the course of the evening he had received
intelligence that the earl's castle was in possession of a party of the
king's men, who had been detached by Sir Ralph Montfaucon to seize
on it during the earl's absence. The baron inferred from this that the
earl's case was desperate; and those who have had the opportunity of
seeing a rich friend fall suddenly into poverty, may easily judge by
their own feelings how quickly and completely the whole moral being
of the earl was changed in the baron's estimation. The baron

immediately proceeded to require in his daughter's mind the same
summary revolution that had taken place in his own, and considered
himself exceedingly ill-used by her non-compliance. The lady had
retired to her chamber, and the baron had passed a supperless and
sleepless night, stalking about his apartments till an advanced hour of
the morning, when hunger compelled him to summon into his presence
the spoils of the buttery, which, being the intended array of an uneaten
wedding feast, were more than usually abundant, and on which, when
the knight and the friar entered, he was falling with desperate valour.
He looked up at them fiercely, with his mouth full of beef and his eyes
full of flame, and rising, as ceremony required, made an awful bow to
the knight, inclining himself forward over the table and presenting his
carving-knife en militaire, in a manner that seemed to leave it doubtful
whether he meant to show respect to his visitor, or to defend his
provision: but the doubt was soon cleared up by his politely motioning
the knight to be seated; on which the friar advanced to the table, saying,
"For what we are going to receive," and commenced operations without
further prelude by filling and drinking a goblet of wine. The baron at
the same time offered one to Sir Ralph, with the look of a man in whom
habitual hospitality and courtesy were struggling with the ebullitions of
natural anger. They pledged each other in silence, and the baron,
having completed a copious draught, continued working his lips and his
throat, as if trying to swallow his wrath as he had done his wine. Sir
Ralph, not knowing well what to make of these ambiguous signs,
looked for instructions to the friar, who by significant looks and
gestures seemed to advise him to follow his example and partake of the
good cheer before him, without speaking till the baron should be more
intelligible in his demeanour. The knight and the friar, accordingly,
proceeded to refect themselves after their ride; the baron looking first at
the one and then at the other, scrutinising alternately the