The Geste of Duke Jocelyn | Page 9

Duke
made of his song an end
Did from his saddle o'er Yolanda bend.

With eyes on her warm beauty he stooped near
To touch white hand
and whisper in her ear;
Whereat she laughed and frowned with cheek
flushed red
Then, frowning still, she turned her horse's head,
And
rode away with dame and squire and knight,
Till lost she was to

Joc'lyn's ravished sight.
"Ha, lord!" quoth Sir Pertinax, as they came within a quiet thoroughfare,
"this lady is grown more fair since last we saw her Queen of Beauty at
Melloc joust, concerning whom Fame, in troth, doth breed a just report
for once. But, messire, didst mark him beside her--with touch o' hand,
lord, whispers i' the ear--didst mark this wolf, this Seneschal, this thrice
accurst Sir Gui?"
"Aye, forsooth," answered the Duke, "but thou'rt an hungered,
methinks?"
"To touch her hand, lord--aha! To whisper in her ear, lord--oho! A right
puissant lord, Seneschal of Raddemore, Lord of Thorn and Knight of
Ells! A lord of puissance and power potential."
"And thou, my Pertinax, art but a hungry Knight, that trampeth with a
hungry Fool, wherefore let us forthwith--"
"Aye, but mark me, lord, if this puissant lord with pomp and high estate
doth woo the lady--"
"So then, my Pertinax, will I woo this lady also."
"How, in this thy foolish guise?"
"Aye, forsooth."
"Why, then, thou art like to be whipped for froward Fool and I for
ragged rogue, and this our adventure brought to ill and woeful end--so
here now is folly, lord, indeed!"
"Aye, forsooth!" smiled the Duke,
"Whereto these bells give heed.
But come, amend thy speed,

Methinks thy fasting-need
These gloomy vapours breed.
Thy inner
man doth plead
Good beef with ale or mead
Wherein, thou Fool
decreed,
I am right well agreed
'T were goodly thing to feed,
Nor

will I thee impede,
So follow Folly's lead
And food-wards we'll
proceed."
FYTTE 2
How Pertinax mine host's large ears did wring,
And Jocelyn of these
same ears did sing.
Now the town was full, and every inn a-throng with company--lords,
both great and small, knights and esquires and their several followings,
as archers, men-at-arms, and the like, all thither come from far and near
to joust at the great tournament soon to be, to honour the birthday of
Benedicta, Duchess of Tissingors, Ambremont, and divers other fair
cities, towns and villages. Thus our travellers sought lodgment in vain,
whereat Sir Pertinax cursed beneath his breath, and Duke Jocelyn
hummed, as was each his wont and custom; and ever the grim Knight's
anger grew.
Until, at last, an humble inn they saw--
A sorry place, with bush
above the door.
This evil place they straightway entered in,
Where
riot reigned, the wild, unlovely din
Of archers, men-at-arms, and
rogues yet worse,
Who drank and sang, whiles some did fight and
curse.
An evil place indeed, a lawless crew,
And landlord, like his
inn, looked evil too:
Small was his nose, small were his pig-like eyes,

But ears had he of most prodigious size,
A brawny rogue,
thick-jowled and beetle-browed,
Who, spying out our strangers 'mid
the crowd,
Beholding them in humble, mean array,
With gestures fierce did
order them away.
"Nay," quoth Sir Pertinax, "here will we bide,

Here will we eat and drink and sleep beside.
Go, bring us beef, dost
hear? And therewith mead,
And, when we've ate, good beds and
clean we 'll need."
"Ho!" cried the host. "Naught unto ye I'll bring

Until yon Fool shall caper first and sing!"
Said Jocelyn: "I'll sing
when I have fed!"
"And then," quoth Pertinax, "we will to bed!"


"And wilt thou so?" the surly host replied;
"No beds for likes o' ye do
I provide.
An' ye will sleep, knave, to the stable go,
The straw is
good enough for ye, I trow."
"Ha!" roared Sir Pertinax. "A stable? Straw?
This to me, thou filthy
clapper-claw,
Thou fly-blown cod's-head, thou pestiferous thing!"

And, roaring, on the brawny host did spring;
By his large ears Sir Pertinax did take him,
And to and fro, and up
and down, did shake him;
He shook him quick and slow, from side to
side,
While loud for aid the shaken landlord cried.
Whereat the
vicious crowd, in sudden wrath,
Shouted and cursed and plucked
their daggers forth.
But, ere to harm our bold Knight they were able,

Duke Joc'lyn lightly sprang on massy table;
Cock's-comb a-flaunt
and silver bells a-ring,
He laughing stood and gaily plucked
lute-string,
And cut an antic with such merry grace
That angry
shouts to laughter loud gave place.
Thereafter he sang as followeth:
"Bold bawcocks, brave, bibulous, babbling boys,
Tall tosspots, come,
temper this tumult and noise;
So shall I sing sweetly such songs as
shall sure
Constrain carking care and contumacy cure.
Thus,
therefore--"
But here the surly landlord raised much clamour and outcry, whiles he
touched and caressed his great ears with rare gentleness.
"Oho, my yeres!" roared he. "My yeres do be in woeful estate. Oho,
what o' yon fierce-fingered rogue, good fellows, what o' yon knave--'a
did twist my yeres plaguily and wring 'em roguishly, 'a