d fain stay here
forever amid all these beautiful things--" staring hard at the
blushing tita as he spoke--"but we must be back at our lord's
hostel ere he reach it." amid renewed thanks and with promises
to come again, the two squires bade their leave of the old
italian glass-stainer and his daughter. the streets were clearer
now, and the rain had stopped, so they made their way quickly
from the rue du roi, in which their new friends dwelt, to the rue
des apotres, where the hostel of the "half moon" was situated.
chapter xxii.
how the bowmen held wassail at the "rose de guienne."
"mon dieu! alleyne, saw you ever so lovely a face?" cried ford
as they hurried along together. "so pure, so peaceful, and so
beautiful!"
"in sooth, yes. and the hue of the skin the most perfect that
ever i saw. marked you also how the hair curled round the brow?
it was wonder fine."
"those eyes, too!" cried ford. "how clear and how tender --
simple. and yet so full of thought!"
"if there was a weakness it was in the chin," said alleyne.
"nay. i saw none."
"it was well curved, it is true."
"most daintily so."
"and yet----"
"what then, alleyne? wouldst find flaw in the sun?"
"well, bethink you, ford, would not more power and expression
have been put into the face by a long and noble beard?"
"holy virgin!" cried ford, "the man is mad. a beard on the face
of little tita!"
"tita! who spoke of tita?"
"who spoke of aught else?"
"it was the picture of st. remy, man, of which i have been
discoursing."
"you are indeed," cried ford, laughing, "a goth, hun, and vandal,
with all the other hard names which the old man called us. how
could you think so much of a smear of pigments, when there was
such a picture painted by the good god himself in the very room
with you? but who is this?"
"if it please you, sirs," said an archer, running across to them,
"aylward and others would be right glad to see you. they are
within here. he bade me say to you that the lord loring will not
need your service to-night, as he sleeps with the lord chandos."
"by my faith!" said ford, "we do not need a guide to lead us to
their presence." as he spoke there came a roar of singing from
the tavern upon the right, with shouts of laughter and stamping
of feet. passing under a low door, and down a stone-flagged
passage, they found themselves in a long narrow hall lit up by a
pair of blazing torches, one at either end. trusses of straw had
been thrown down along the walls, and reclining on them were some
twenty or thirty archers, all of the company, their steel caps
and jacks thrown off, their tunics open and their great limbs
sprawling upon the clay floor. at every man's elbow stood his
leathern blackjack of beer, while at the further end a hogshead
with its end knocked in promised an abundant supply for the
future. behind the hogshead, on a half circle of kegs, boxes,
and rude settles, sat aylward, john, black simon and three or
four other leading men of the archers, together with goodwin
hawtayne, the master-shipman, who had left his yellow cog in the
river to have a last rouse with his friends of the company. ford
and alleyne took their seats between aylward and black simon,
without their entrance checking in any degree the hubbub which
was going on.
"ale, mes camarades?" cried the bowman, "or shall it be wine?
nay, but ye must have the one or the other. here, jacques, thou
limb of the devil, bring a bottrine of the oldest vernage, and
see that you do not shake it. hast heard the news?"
"nay," cried both the squires.
"that we are to have a brave tourney."
"a tourney?"
"aye, lads. for the captal du buch hath sworn that he will find
five knights from this side of the water who will ride over any
five englishmen who ever threw leg over saddle; and chandos hath
taken up the challenge, and the prince hath promised a golden
vase for the man who carries himself best, and all the court is
in a buzz over it."
"why should the knights have all the sport?" growled hordle john.
"could they not set up five archers for the honor of aquitaine
and of gascony?"
"or five men-at-arms," said black simon.
"but who are the english knights?" asked hawtayne.
"there are three hundred and forty-one in the town," said
aylward, "and i hear that three hundred and forty cartels and
defiances have already been sent in, the only one missing being
sir john ravensholme, who is in his bed with the sweating
sickness, and cannot set foot to ground."
"i have heard of it from one of the archers of the guard," cried
a bowman from among the straw; "i hear that the prince wished to
break a lance, but that chandos would not hear of it, for the
game is likely to be a rough one."
"then there is chandos."
"nay, the pr
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