Part 23 (1/2)
Then, indeed, the day was dark for the Prince. The beautiful lady in going had left him more lonely than before. Now he truly knew what it was to be a prisoner. All day long he knelt at the window, watching, and longing, and not knowing by what means he might see his lady again. At last night came, and worn out in heart and mind he leaned his head #against the cold rough stone and slept.
Chapter XXIX THE DEATH OF THE POET KING
AS Prince James slept he dreamed that a sudden great light shone into his prison, making bright all the room. A voice cried, ”I bring thee comfort and healing, be not afraid.” Then the light pa.s.sed as suddenly as it had come and the Prince went forth from his prison, no man saying him nay.
”And hastily by both the arms twain I was araised up into the air, Caught in a cloud of crystal clear and fair.”
And so through ”air and water and hot fire” he was carried, seeing and hearing many wonders, till he awoke to find himself still kneeling by his window.
Was it all a dream, Prince James asked himself, even the vision of the lovely lady in the garden? At that thought his heart grew heavy. Then, as if to comfort him, a dove flew in at his window carrying in her mouth a sprig of gilliflowers. Upon the stalk in golden letters were written the words, ”Awake! Awake! lover, I bring thee glad news.”
And so the story had a happy ending, for Prince James knew that the lovely lady of the garden loved him. ”And if you think,” he says, ”that I have written a great deal about a very little thing, I say this to you:--
”Who that from h.e.l.l hath creeped once to heaven Would after one thank for joy not make six or seven, And every wight his own sweet or sore Has most in mind: I can say you no more.”
Then, in an outburst of joy, he thanks and blesses everything that has led up to this happy day, which has brought him under ”Love's yoke which easy is and sure.” Even his exile and his prison he thanks.
”And thanked be the fair castle wall Whereas I whilcome looked forth and leant.”
The King's Quair reminds us very much of Chaucer's work. All through it there are lines which might have been written by Chaucer, and in the last verse James speaks of Gower and Chaucer as his ”masters dear.” Of Gower I have said nothing in this book, because there is not room to tell of every one, and he is not so important as some or so interesting as others. So I leave you to learn about him later. It is to Chaucer, too, much more than to Gower that James owes his music. And if he is grave like Gower rather than merry like Chaucer, we must remember that for nineteen years he had lived a captive, so that it was natural his verse should be somber as his life had been. And though there is no laughter in this poem, it shows a power of feeling joy as well as sorrow, which makes us sad when we remember how long the poet was shut away from common human life.
The King's Quair is written in verses of seven lines. Chaucer used this kind of verse, but because King James used it too, and used it so well, it came to be called the Rhyme Royal.
King James's story had a happy ending. A story with a happy ending must end of course with a wedding, and so did this one.
The King of England, now Henry VI, was only a child. But those who ruled for him were quite pleased when they heard that Prince James had fallen in love with the beautiful lady of the garden, for she was the King's cousin, Lady Jane Beaufort. They set James free and willingly consented that he should marry his lady, for in this way they hoped to bind England and Scotland together, and put an end to wars between the two countries. So there was a very grand wedding in London when the lovely lady of the garden became Queen of Scotland. And then these two, a King and Queen, yet happy as any simple lovers journeyed northward to their kingdom.
They were received with great rejoicing and crowned at Scone.
But the new King soon found, that during the long years he had been kept a prisoner in England his kingdom had fallen into wild disorder. Sternly he set himself to bring order out of disorder, and the wilfull, lawless n.o.bles soon found to their surprise that the gentle poet had a will of iron and a hand of steel, and that he could wield a sword and scepter as skillfully as his pen.
James I righted much that was wrong. In doing it he made for himself many enemies. But of all that he did or tried to do in the twelve years that he ruled you will read in history books.
Here I will only tell you of his sad death.
In 1436 James decided to spend Christmas at Perth, a town he loved. As he neared the river Forth, which he had to cross on his way, an aged woman came to him crying in a loud voice, ”My Lord King, if ye cross this water ye shall never return again in life.”
Now the King had read a prophecy in which it was said that a King of Scotland should be slain that same year. So wondering what this woman might mean, he sent a knight to speak with the woman.
But the knight could make nothing of her, and returning to the King he said, ”Sir, take no heed of yon woman's words, for she is old and foolish, and wots not what she sayeth.” So the King rode on.
Christmas went by quietly and peacefully, and the New Year came, and still the King lingered in Perth. The winter days pa.s.sed pleasantly in reading, walking, and tennis-playing; the evenings in chess-playing, music, and story-telling.
But one night, as James was chatting and laughing with the Queen and her ladies before going to bed, a great noise was heard. The sound of many feet, the clatter of armor mingled with wild cries was borne to the quiet room, and through the high windows flashed the light of many torches.
At once the King guessed that he was betrayed. The Queen and her ladies ran hastily to the door to shut it. But the locks had been broken and the bolts carried away, so that it could not be fastened.
In vain James looked round. Way of escape there was none.
Alone, unarmed, he could neither guard the ladies nor save himself. Crying to them to keep fast the door as best they might, he sprang to the window, hoping by his great strength to wrench the iron bars from their places and escape that way. But, alas, they were so strongly set in the stone that he could not move them, ”for which cause the King was ugly astonied.”*