The Life And Death Of Richard Yea And Nay Volume 91 - Maurice Hewlett (i wanna iguana read aloud txt) 📗

Came In Exalted With Grief, So That No Wardens Of The Door, Nor Queens,

Nor College Of Queens, Could Have Stayed Her. She Was As Tall As Any

There, And Went Past The Guard At The Door Without Question Or Word

Said, And So Lightly And Fiercely To The Bed. There She Stood, Dilating

And Glowing, Looking Not Back On Her Spent Life, But On To The Glory Of

The Dying.

 

The Queen Knew That She Was There, But Went On With Her Prayers, Or

Seemed To Go On. Jehane Knelt Suddenly, Put Her Arms Out Over Richard,

Stooped And Kissed His Cheek. Then She Looked Up, Desperately

Triumphing, For Any One To Question Her Right. None Did. Berengère

Prayed Incessantly, And Jehane Panted. The Words Broke From Her At Last.

'Dost Thou Question My Right, Berengère,' She Said Fiercely, 'To Kiss A

Dead Man, To Love The Dead And Speak Greatly Of The Dead? Which Of Us

Three Women, Thinkest Thou, Knoweth Best What Report To Make Concerning

This Beloved, Thou, Or Alois, Or I? Alois Came, Speaking Of Old Sins;

And You Are Here, Plaining Of New Sins: What Shall I Do, Now I Am Here?

Am I To Speak Of Sin To Come? Thou Dear Knight,' And She Touched His

Head, 'There Is No More Room For Thy Great Sins, Alas! But I Think Thou

Shalt Leave Behind Thee Some Spark Of A Fire.' She Looked Again At

Berengère, Who Saw The Glint Of Her Green Eyes And The Old Proud

Discontent Twisting Her Lip, But Did Nothing. 'Look, Berengère,' Said

Jehane, 'I Speak As Mother Of His Child Fulke Of Anjou. I Had Rather My

Son Fulke Sinned As His Fathers Have Sinned, So That He Sinned Greatly

Like Them, Than That He Should Grow Pale, Scheming Safety In A Cloister,

And Make The Man In Our Saviour Ashamed Of His Choice. I Had Rather The

Bad Blood Stay, So It Stay Great Blood, Than That It Should Be Thin Like

Thine. What Is There To Fear, Girl? A Sword? I Have Had A Sword In My

Heart Eight Years, And Made No Sound. Let The Son Pierce What The Father

Pierced Before. I Am A Lover, Saying Not To My Beloved, "Stroke My

Heart, Dearest Lord"; But Instead, "Stab If Thou Wilt, My King, And Let

Me Bleed For Thee." So I Have Bled, Sweet Lord Jesus, And So Shall Bleed

Again!' She Stooped And Kissed His Head, Saying, 'Amen. Let The Poor

Bleed If The King Ask.' The Queen Went On Praying; But Richard Opened

His Eyes Without Start Or Quiver, Looked At Jehane Leaning Over Him, And

Smiled.

 

'Well, My Girl, Well,' He Said, 'Thou Art In Good Time. What Of The

Lad?'

 

'He Is Here, Richard.'

 

'Bring Him To Me,' Says The King. So Des Barres Stole Out To The Moslems

At The Door, And Came Back Leading Fulke By The Hand, A Slim, Tall Boy,

Fair-Haired, And Frank In The Face, With His Father's Delicate Mouth And

Bold Grey Eyes. Jehane Turned To Take Him.

 

'This Is Thy Father, Boy.'

 

'I Know It, Ma'am,' Says Young Fulke, And Knelt Down By The Bed. King

Richard Put His Hand On His Head.

 

'What A Rough Pelt, Fulke,' He Says, 'Like Thy Father's. God Send Thee A

Better Inside To It, My Boy. God Make A Man Of Thee.'

 

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Kissed His Father's Lips. 'What A Lover!' The King Laughed; And Jehane

Said, 'He Always Kisses On The Lips.' Richard Sighed, Suddenly Tired;

Fulke Looked About, Frightened At All The Solemnity, And Took His

Mother's Hand. She Gave Him Over To Des Barres, Who Led Him Away.

 

The King Signed To Jehane To Bend Down Her Head. So She Did, And Even

Thus Could Barely Hear Him.

 

'I Must Die In Peace If I Can, Sweet Soul,' He Muttered. They All Saw

That The End Was Not Far Off. 'Tell Me What Will Become Of Thee When I

Am Gone.' She Stroked His Cheek.

 

'I Shall Go Back To My Husband And Children, Dear One. I Have Left Three

Behind Me, All Sons.'

 

'Are They Good To Thee? Art Thou Happy?'

 

'I Am At Peace With Myself, Wife Of A Wise Old Man; I Love My Children,

And Have The Memory Of Thee, Richard. These Will Suffice Me.'

 

'There Is One More Thing For Thee To Give Me, My Jehane.' She Smiled

Pityingly.

 

'Why, What Is Left To Give, Richard?' He Said In Her Ear, 'Our Boy

Fulke.'

 

'Ah,' Said Jehane. The Queen Was Now Watching Her Intently Between Her

Hands.

 

'Jehane, Jehane,' Said King Richard, Sweating With The Effort To Be

Heard, 'All Our Life Together Thou Hast Been Giving And I Spending, Thou

Miser That I Might Play The Prodigal. For The Last Time I Ask Of Thee:

Deny Me Not. Wilt Thou Stay Here With Fulke Our Son?'

 

Jehane Could Not Speak; She Shook Her Head, And Showed Him Her Eyes All

Blind With Tears. The Tears Came Freely, From More Eyes Than Hers.

Richard's Head Dropped Back, And For A Full Minute They Thought Him

Gone. But No. He Opened His Eyes Again And Moved His Lips. They Strained

To Hear Him. 'The Sponge, The Sponge,' He Said: Then, 'Bring Me In

Saint-Pol.' The Cold Light Began To Steal In Through The Crannies Of The

Tent.

 

The Young Man Was Brought In By Des Barres, In Chains. Jehane, Now

Behind Richard's Head, Lifted Him Up In Her Arms.

 

'Knock Off Those Fetters,' Says The King. Saint-Pol Was Free.

 

'Eustace,' Says Richard, 'You And I Have Bandied Hard Words Enough, And

Blows Enough. My Chains Will Be Off Before Sunrise, And Yours Are Off

Already. Answer Me, Is Gurdun Dead?'

 

Saint-Pol Dropped To His Knees. 'Oh, My Lord, He Died Where He Fell. But

As God Knows, He Had No Hand In This, Nor Had I.'

 

'If I Know It, I Suppose God Knows It Too,' Said Richard, Smiling Rather

Thinly. 'Now, Eustace, I Have A Word To Say. I Have Done Much Against

Your Name; To Your Brother Because He Spoke Against A Great Lady And Ill

Of My House; To Your Sister Here, Because I Loved Her Not Well Enough

And Myself Too Well. Eustace, You Shall Kiss Her Before I Go.'

 

Saint-Pol Got Up And Went To Her. Brother And Sister Kissed Each Other

Above The King's Head. Then Said Richard, 'Now I Will Tell You That I

Had Nothing To Do With The Death Of Your Cousin Montferrat.'

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'Oh, Sire! Oh, Sire!' Cried Saint-Pol; But Jehane Looked At Her Brother.

 

'I Had To Do With That, Eustace,' She Said. 'He Laid The Death Of The

King, And I Laid His Death At The Price Of My Marriage. He Deserved It.'

 

'Sister,' Said Saint-Pol, 'He Did Deserve It; And I Deserve What He Had.

Oh, Sire,' He Urged With Tears, 'Take My Life, As Your Right Is, But

Forgive Me First.'

 

'What Have I To Forgive You, Brother?' Said Richard. 'Come, Kiss Me. We

Were Good Friends In The Old Days.' Saint-Pol, With Tears, Kissed Him.

Richard Sat Up.

 

'I Require You Now, Saint-Pol And Des Barres, That Between You You

Defend My Son Fulke. Milo Has The Deeds Of His Lands Of Cuigny. Bring

Him Up A Good Knight, And Let Him Think Gentlier Of His Father Than That

Father Ever Did Of His. Will You Do This? Make Haste, Make Haste!'

 

The Queen Broke In With A Cry. 'Oh, Sire! Oh, Sire! Is There Nothing For

Me? Madame!' She Turned To Jehane And Held Her Fast By The Knees, 'Have

Pity, Spare Me A Little, A Very Little Work! O Christ! O Christ!'--She

Rocked Herself About--'Can I Do Nothing In The World For My King?'

 

Jehane Stooped To Take Her Up. 'Madame, Watch Over My Little Fulke, When

His Father Is Gone, And I Am Gone.' The Queen Was Crying Bitterly.

 

'I Will Never Leave Him If You Will Trust Me,' She Began To Say. Richard

Put His Band Out. 'Let It Be So. My Lords, Serve The Queen And Me In

This Matter.' The Two Lords Bowed Their Heads, And The Queen Tumbled To

Her Sobbed Prayers Again.

 

The King's Eyes Were Almost Gone; Certainly He Could Not See Out Of

Them. They Understood His Moving Lips, 'A Sponge, Quick.'

 

Jehane Brought It And Wiped His Mouth; She Could Not See Either For

Tears. He Gave A Strong Movement, Wrenched His Head Up From Her Arm,

Then Gave A Great Gasp, 'Christ! I Am Done!' There Followed On This A

Rush Of Blood Which Made All Hearts Stand Still. They Wiped It Away. But

Jehane Saw That With That Hot Blood Had Gone His Spirit. She Lifted High

Her Head And Let Them Read The Truth From Her Eyes. Then She Put Her

Lips Upon His, And So Stayed, And Felt Him Grow Cold Below Her Warmth.

The Fire Was Out.

 

They Buried Him At Fontevrault As He Had Directed, At The Feet Of His

Father. King John Was There With The Peers Of England, Normandy, And

Anjou. The Queen Was There; But Not Alois (Unless Behind The Grille),

And Not King Philip, Because He Hated King John Much Worse Than He Ever

Hated Richard. And Jehane Was Not There, Nor Fulke Of Anjou With His

Governors, Because They Had Another Business To Perform.

 

Not All Of King Richard Was Buried There, Where The Great Effigy Still

Marks The Place Of Great Dust. Jehane Had His Heart In A Casket, And

With Fulke Her Son, Des Barres, Her Brother Saint-Pol, Gaston Of Béarn,

And The Abbot Milo, Took It To The Church Of Rouen And Saw It Laid Among

The Dead Dukes Of Normandy; Fitting Sepulture For A Heart As Bold As Any

Of Theirs, And Capable Of More Gentle Music When The Fine Hand Plucked

The Chords. After This Jehane Kissed Fulke And Left Him With The Queen,

His Uncle, And Guilhem Des Barres. Then She Went Back To Her Ship.

 

 

In The White Palace In The Green Valley Of Lebanon The Old Man Of Musse

Embraced His Wife. 'Moon Of My Soul, My Garden, My Treasure-House!' He

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