That is Wat the Limner, quoth the landlady, sitting down beside Alleyne, and pointing with the ladle to the sleeping man. That is he who paints the signs and the tokens. Alack and alas that ever I should have been fool enough to trust him! Now, young man, what manner of a bird would you suppose a pied merlin to be that being the proper sign of my hostel?
Why, said Alleyne, a merlin is a bird of the same form as an eagle or a falcon. I can well remember that learned brother Bartholomew, who is deep in all the secrets of Nature, pointed one out to me as we walked together near Vinney Ridge.
A falcon, or an eagle, quotha? And pied, that is of two several colours. So any man would say except this barrel of lies. He came to me, look you, saying that if I would furnish him with a gallon of ale, wherewith to strengthen himself as he worked, and also the pigments and a board, he would paint for me a noble pied merlin which I might hang along with the blazonry over my door. I, poor simple fool, gave him the ale and all that he cared, leaving him alone too, because he said that a mans mind must be left untroubled when he had great work to do. When I came back the gallon jar was empty, and he lay as you see him, with the board in front of him with this sorry device. She raised up a panel which was leaning against the wall, and showed a rude painting of a scraggy and angular fowl, with very long legs and a spotted body.
Was that, she asked, like the bird which thou hast seen?
Alleyne shook his head, smiling.
No, nor any other bird that ever wagged a feather. It is most like a plucked pullet which has died of the spotted fever. And scarlet, too! What would the gentles, Sir Nicholas Borhunte, or Sir Bernard Brocas, of Roche Court say if they saw such a thing or, perhaps, even the kings own majesty himself, who often has ridden past this way, and who loves his falcons as he loves his sons? It would be the downfall of my house.
The matter is not past mending, said Alleyne. I pray you, good dame, to give me those three pigment-pots and the brush, and I shall try whether I cannot better this painting.
Dame Eliza looked doubtfully at him, as though fearing some other stratagem, but, as he made no demand for ale, she finally brought the paints, and watched him as he smeared on his background, talking the while about the folk round the fire.
The four forest lads must be jogging soon, she said. They bide at Emery Down, a mile or more from here. Yeomen-prickers they are, who tend to the kings hunt. The gleeman is called Floyting Will. He comes from the north country, but for many years he hath gone the round of the forest from Southampton to Christchurch. He drinks much and pays little; but it would make your ribs crackle to hear him sing the Jest of Hendy Tobias. Mayhap he will sing it when the ale has warmed him.
Who are those next to him? asked Alleyne, much interested. He of the fur mantle has a wise and reverent face.
He is a seller of pills and salves, very learned in humours, and rheums, and fluxes, and all manner of ailments. He wears, as you perceive, the vernicle of Sainted Luke, the first physician, upon his sleeve. May good St. Thomas of Kent grant that it may be long before either I or mine need his help! He is here to-night for herbergage, as are the others, except the foresters. His neighbour is a tooth-drawer. That bag at his girdle is full of the teeth that he drew at Winchester fair. I warrant that there are more sound ones than sorry, for he is quick at his work and a trifle dim in the eye. The lusty man next him with the red head I have not seen before. The four on this side are all workers, three of them in the service of the bailiff of Sir Baldwin Redvers, and the other, he with the sheepskin, is, as I hear, a villein from the midlands who hath run from his master. His year and day are well-nigh up, when he will be a free man.
And the other? asked Alleyne in a whisper. He is surely some very great man, for he looks as though he scorned those who were about him.
The landlady looked at him in a motherly way and shook her head. You have had no great truck with the world, she said, or you would have learned that it is the small men and not the great who hold their noses in the air[39]. Look at those shields upon my wall and under my eaves. Each of them is the device of some noble lord or gallant knight who hath slept under my roof at one time or another. Yet milder men or easier to please I have never seen: eating my bacon and drinking my wine with a merry face, and paying my score with some courteous word or jest which was dearer to me than my profit. Those are the true gentles. But your chapman or your bearward will swear that there is a lime in the wine, and water in the ale, and fling off at the last with a curse instead of a blessing. This youth is a scholar from Cambrig, where men are wont to be blown out by a little knowledge, and lose the use of their hands in learning the laws of the Romans. But I must away to lay down the beds. So may the saints keep you and prosper you in your undertaking!
Thus left to himself, Alleyne drew his panel of wood where the light of one of the torches would strike full upon it, and worked away with all the pleasure of the trained craftsman, listening the while to the talk which went on round the fire. The peasant in the skeepskins, who had sat glum and silent all evening, had been so heated by his flagon of ale that he was talking loudly and angrily with clenched hands and flashing eyes.
Sir Humphrey Tennant of Ashby may till his own fields for me, he cried. The castle has thrown its shadow upon the cottage over long. For three hundred years my folk have swinked and sweated, day in and day out[40], to keep the wine on the lords table and the harness on the lords back. Let him take off his plates and delve himself, if delving must be done.
A proper spirit, my fair son! said one of the free labourers. I would that all men were of thy way of thinking.
He would have sold me with his acres, the other cried, in a voice which was hoarse with passion. The man, the woman, and their litter so ran the words of the dotard bailiff. Never a bullock on the farm was sold more lightly. Ha! he may wake some black night to find the flames licking about his ears for fire is a good friend to the poor man, and I have seen a smoking heap of ashes where overnight there stood just such another castlewick as Ashby.
This is a lad of metal! shouted another of the labourers. He dares to give tongue to what all men think. Are we not all from Adams loins, all with flesh and blood, and with the same mouth that must needs have food and drink? Where all this difference, then, between the ermine cloak and the leathern tunic, if what they cover is the same?
Aye, Jenkin, said another, our foeman is under the stole and the vestment as much as under the helmet and plate of proof. We have as much to fear from the tonsure as from the hauberk. Strike at the noble and the priest shrieks, strike at the priest and the noble lays his hand upon glaive[41]. They are twin thieves who live upon our labour.
It would take a clever man to live upon thy labour, Hugh, remarked one of the foresters, seeing that the half of thy time is spent in swilling mead at the Pied Merlin.
Better that than stealing the deer that thou art placed to guard, like some folk I know.
If you dare open that swines mouth against me, shouted the woodman, Ill crop your ears for you before the hangman has the doing of it, thou long-jawed lackbrain.
This is a lad of metal! shouted another of the labourers. He dares to give tongue to what all men think. Are we not all from Adams loins, all with flesh and blood, and with the same mouth that must needs have food and drink? Where all this difference, then, between the ermine cloak and the leathern tunic, if what they cover is the same?
Aye, Jenkin, said another, our foeman is under the stole and the vestment as much as under the helmet and plate of proof. We have as much to fear from the tonsure as from the hauberk. Strike at the noble and the priest shrieks, strike at the priest and the noble lays his hand upon glaive[41]. They are twin thieves who live upon our labour.
It would take a clever man to live upon thy labour, Hugh, remarked one of the foresters, seeing that the half of thy time is spent in swilling mead at the Pied Merlin.
Better that than stealing the deer that thou art placed to guard, like some folk I know.
If you dare open that swines mouth against me, shouted the woodman, Ill crop your ears for you before the hangman has the doing of it, thou long-jawed lackbrain.
Nay, gentles, gentles! cried Dame Eliza, in a singsong, heedless voice, which showed that such bickerings were nightly things among her guests. No brawling or brabbling, gentles! Take heed to the good name of the house.
Besides, if it comes to the cropping of ears, there are other folk who may say their say, quoth the third labourer. We are all freemen, and I trow that a yeomans cudgel is as good as a foresters knife. By St. Anselm! it would be an evil day if we had to bend to our masters servants as well as to our masters.
No man is my master save the king, the woodman answered. Who is there, save a false traitor, who would refuse to serve the English king?
I know not about the English king, said the man Jenkin. What sort of English king is it who cannot lay his tongue to a word of English? You mind last year when he came down to Malwood, with his inner marshal and his outer marshal, his justiciar, his seneschal, and his four-and-twenty guardsmen. One noontide I was by Franklin Swintons gate, when up he rides with a yeoman-pricker at his heels. Ouvre[42], he cried, ouvre, or some such word, making sign for me to open the gate; and then Merci[43], as though he were afeared of me. And you talk of an English king!
I do not marvel at it, cried the Cambrig scholar, speaking in the high drawling voice which was common among his class. It is not a tongue for men of sweet birth and delicate upbringing. It is a foul, snorting, snarling manner of speech. For myself, I swear by the learned Polycarp that I have most ease with Hebrew, and after that perchance with Arabian.
I will not hear a word said against old King Ned, cried Hordle John in a voice like a bull. What if he is fond of a bright eye and a saucy face? I know one of his subjects who could match him at that. If he cannot speak like an Englishman, I trow that he can fight like an Englishman; and he was hammering at the gates of Paris while alehouse topers were grutching and grumbling at home.
This loud speech, coming from a man of so formidable an appearance, somewhat daunted the disloyal party, and they fell into a sullen silence, which enabled Alleyne to hear something of the talk which was going on in the farther corner between the physician, the tooth-drawer, and the gleeman.
A raw rat, the man of drugs was saying, that is what it is ever my use to order for the plague a raw rat with its paunch cut open.
Might it not be broiled, most learned sir? asked the tooth-drawer. A raw rat sounds a most sorry and cheerless dish.
Not to be eaten, cried the physician, in high disdain. Why should any man eat such a thing?
Why, indeed? asked the gleeman, taking a long drain at his tankard.
It is to be placed on the sore or swelling. For the rat, mark you, being a foul-living creature, hath a natural drawing or affinity for all foul things, so that the noxious humours pass from the man into the unclean beast.
Would that cure the Black Death, master? asked Jenkin.
Aye, truly would it, my fair son.
Then I am right glad that there were none who knew of it. The Black Death is the best friend that ever the common folk had in England.
How that then? asked Hordle John.
Why, friend, it is easy to see that you have not worked with your hands, or you would not need to ask. When half the folk in the country were dead it was then that the other half could pick and choose who they would work for, and for what wage. That is why I say that the murrain was the best friend that the borel folk ever had.
True, Jenkin, said another workman; but it is not all good that is brought by it either. We well know that through it corn land has been turned into pasture, so that flocks of sheep with perchance a single shepherd wander now where once a hundred men had work and wage.
There is no great harm in that, remarked the tooth-drawer, for the sheep give many folk their living. There is not only the herd, but the shearer and brander, and then the dresser, the curer, the dyer, the fuller, the webster, the merchant, and a score of others.
If it come to that, said one of the foresters, the tough meat of them will wear folks teeth out, and there is a trade for the man who can draw them.
A general laugh followed this sally at the dentists expense, in the midst of which the gleeman placed his battered harp upon his knee, and began to pick out a melody upon the frayed strings.
Elbow room for Floyting Will! cried the woodmen. Twang us a merry lilt.
Aye, aye, the Lasses of Lancaster, one suggested.
Or St. Simeon and the Devil.
Or the Jest of Hendy Tobias.
To all these suggestions the jongleur[44] made no response, but sat with his eye fixed abstractedly upon the ceiling, as one who calls words to his mind. Then, with a sudden sweep across the strings, he broke out into a song so gross and so foul that ere he had finished a verse the pure-minded lad sprang to his feet with the blood tingling in his face.
How can you sing such things? he cried. You, too, an old man who should be an example to others.
The wayfarers all gazed in the utmost astonishment at the interruption.
By the holy Dicon of Hampole! our silent clerk has found his tongue, said one of the woodmen. What is amiss with the song then? How has it offended your babyship?
A milder and better mannered song hath never been heard within these walls, cried another. What sort of talk is this for a public inn?
Shall it be a litany, my good clerk? shouted a third; or would a hymn be good enough to serve?
The jongleur had put down his harp in high dudgeon. Am I to be preached to by a child? he cried, staring across at Alleyne with an inflamed and angry countenance. Is a hairless infant to raise his tongue against me, when I have sung in every fair from Tweed to Trent, and have twice been named aloud by the High Court of the Minstrels at Beverley? I shall sing no more to-night.
Nay, but you will so, said one of the labourers. Hi! Dame Eliza, bring a stoup of your best to Will to clear his throat. Go forward with thy song, and if our girl-faced clerk does not love it he can take to the road and go whence he came.