Part 139 (1/2)
The spectators received this excuse with loud derision. There was the fact. The dwarf was great at mounting a pole: the giant only great at excuses. In short Giles had gauged their intellects: with his own body no doubt.
”Come,” said he, ”an' ye go to that, I'll wrestle ye, my lad, if so be you will let me blindfold your eyne.”
The giant, smarting under defeat, and thinking he could surely recover it by this means, readily consented.
”Madam,” said Giles, ”see you yon blind Samson? At a signal from me he shall make me a low obeisance, and unbonnet to me.”
”How may that be, being blinded?” inquired a maid of honour.
”That is my affair.”
”I wager on Giles for one,” said the princess.
When several wagers were laid pro and con, Giles. .h.i.t the giant in the bread-basket. He went double (the obeisance), and his bonnet fell off.
The company yelled with delight at this delicate stroke of wit, and Giles took to his heels. The giant followed as soon as he could recover his breath and tear off his bandage. But it was too late; Giles had prepared a little door in the wall, through which he could pa.s.s, but not a giant, and had coloured it so artfully it looked like wall; this door he tore open, and went headlong through, leaving no vestige but this posy, written very large upon the reverse of his trick door:
_Long limbs, big body, wanting wit, By wee and wise is bet and bit._
After this Giles became a Force.
He shall now speak for himself.
Finding Margaret unable to believe the good news, and sceptical as to the affairs of holy Church being administered by dwarfs, he narrated as follows:
”When the princess sent for me to her bedroom as of custom, to keep her out of languor, I came not mirthful nor full of country dicts, as is my wont, but dull as lead.
”'Why what aileth thee?' quo' she. 'Art sick?' 'At heart,' quo' I.
'Alas, he is in love,' quo' she. Whereat five brazen hussies, which they call them maids of honour, did giggle loud. 'Not so mad as that,' said I, 'seeing what I see at court of women folk.'
”'There, ladies,' quo' the princess, 'best let him a be. 'Tis a liberal mannikin, and still giveth more than he taketh of saucy words.'
”'In all sadness,' quo' she, 'what is the matter?'
”I told her I was meditating, and what perplexed me was, that other folk could now and then keep their word, but princes never.
”'Heyday,' says she, 'thy shafts fly high this morn.' I told her, 'Ay, for they hit the Truth.'
”She said I was as keen as keen; but it became not me to put riddles to her, nor her to answer them. 'Stand aloof a bit, mesdames,' said she, 'and thou speak without fear'; for she saw I was in sad earnest.
”I began to quake a bit; for mind ye, she can doff freedom and don dignity quicker than she can slip out of her dressing-gown into kirtle of state. But I made my voice so soft as honey; (wherefore smilest?) and I said, 'Madam, one evening, a matter of five years agone, as ye sat with your mother, the Countess of Charolois, who is now in heaven, worse luck, you wi' your lute, and she wi' her tapestry, or the like; do ye mind there came in to ye a fair youth--with a letter from a painter body, one Margaret Van Eyck?'
”She said she thought she did. 'Was it not a tall youth, exceedingly comely?'
”'Ay, madam,' said I; 'he was my brother.'
”'Your brother?' said she, and did eye me like all over. (What dost smile at?)
”So I told her all that pa.s.sed between her and Gerard, and how she was for giving him a bishopric; but the good countess said, 'Gently, Marie!
He is too young;' and with that they did both promise him a living; 'Yet,' said I, 'he hath been a priest a long while, and no living. Hence my bile.'