Part 47 (1/2)
”They have opened the prisons,” said Stephen. ”Oh, sire, judges err, and wherefore not these poor? Do but come out to them and hear what they would ask of thee, and thou shalt see how they 'll be led like little children.”
”And would I not so, an I had my way?” Richard cried. ”But old Salisbury saith they 're rebels and 't is not meet the King should bend to their will. And Simon Sudbury lives in fear of his life, and so he saith they seek mine also.”
”They will not have it they 're rebels, sire, being risen in the name of the King.”
”What for a riddle is here?” sighed Richard, but also he smiled.
”Shall we say to these, my kinsmen and guardians, that the King hath bidden his people to rise against the kingdom?--Dost think I 'll be called a fool?--Nay!--Neither am I a babe to believe that thou and I and yon ragged rout may rule England in despite of mine Uncle Gaunt, and Earl Percy, and other the flow'r of England's chivalry,--for all Will Langland's Vision of Ploughmen.”
”But these folk do not demand to rule, my lord,” protested Stephen.
”'T is to be made free men, no longer villeins and serfs.”
”The Archbishop saith 't is more than this,--for that John Ball and Wat Tyler be desperate men and they have made a plot to slay all n.o.bilite. If they do so shall not I be as truly in bondage as now I am? And how vile bondage! Faugh!--filthy hinds!--Canst smell their stench even now?”
Stephen leaned on the battlement pondering what he would say. At last he spoke, his eyes fixed always on the hill and the restless throng thereon:
”'T is very true,” he said, ”that there be certain among them are consumed with the s-sin of envy and l.u.s.t of power, but the most part of the people m-meddleth not with these subtleties. Freedom is their desire, and not to be called villeins; and when they have obtained these, they will return to their homes. For W-Wat Tyler and Jack Straw and John Ball, they weigh not a fly as against King Richard in the hearts of the people.”
”Sayst thou so?” the boy murmured, and clutched Etienne's shoulder,--”sayst thou so?” Then he flung out his arms on the battlement, and his head on his arms. ”Ah, wherefore do I take keep if this people love me or no? Wherefore do I take keep of the love of dirty ploughmen, vermin-ridden,--of branded knaves and silly ragged folk? But I do,--Dieu, ma vie, I do!”
”Then come to them, sire!--Hear them!--Another day and 't will be too late. They will believe thou hast forsaken them,--and what they 'll then do, I dare not think on. They are not so strong as to overturn a kingdom, but”--He swept his arm about, where the sky glowed to the north, and westward the Savoy lay, red embers. ”Oh, sire, they have made Cheapside a shambles!”
”Wilt thou have me go out, now, thither?” said Richard, pointing to the camp. Here and there men slept. Others roasted bullocks by the fire that hissed with the dropping of blood. The sound of a catch came up:--
”Help truth, and truth shall help you!
Now reigneth pride in price, And covetise is counted wise, And lechery withouten shame, And gluttony withouten blame.
Envy reigneth with reason, And sloth is take in great season.
G.o.d do bote, for now is time.”
”If we do,” the King continued, ”we must steal forth secretly, mon ami; for Sudbury and the rest would never let us from the gate of their own will.”
”Nay, we 'll not go to-night, sire; but do thou come down with me to the chamber below and persuade the Archbishop and Salisbury that thou wilt meet the people on the morrow to have speech of them,--else all London is like to be made a desert afore aid come.”
So they went down and, at the foot of the stair, young Henry sat, half-asleep, but he shook himself and followed after them to the table whereon the n.o.bles now leaned elbow in gloomy silence.
”My lords,” said Richard, ”here 's Etienne Fitzwarine hath been in the city all day, saith somewhat must be done if we will not have the morrow's sun set redder than to-day's.”
”Must be done!” shouted Thomas of Woodstock, shaking the table with a blow of his fist.--”Have I not said so?--Up!--a.s.semble the guard and make an onslaught! A sudden sally forth with the guard, at midnight when these rebels be sleeping, and we may rout them and put them to flight. These be village churls, untrained to matters of war,--they 'll fly before a sword. So saith Master Walworth likewise. Peasants and prentices be no warriors. Moreover, Sir Robert Knolles holdeth his own house against them in the city,--he will help us.”
The Earl of Salisbury lifted his head as he would speak, but Richard was before him.
”My lords,” he said, and all they marvelled to hear his voice how it was a.s.sured,--”my lords, I am going forth on the morrow to have speech of my people;--to hear what it is they will have. Etienne saith they desire freedom and no more to be called villeins. My lords, I know what this is, to desire to be free. I and my people, we shall be free men on the morrow.”
There was silence throughout the chamber, and every eye was fixed on the King where he stood. Then Salisbury bent his gray head above the boy's white hand that lay clenched on the table.
”Sire,” he said, ”if you can appease them by fair words and grant them what they wish, it will be so much the better; for should we begin what we cannot go through, we shall never be able to recover it. It will be all over with us and our heirs, and England will be a desert.”
”Give you good-night, my lords,” said Richard then. ”I will go to the chapel to my prayers.”
CHAPTER V