The Chronicle of Clemendy/The Spigot Clerk's Second Tale
HOW A KNIGHT OF USKE KEPT GUARD OVER A TREE
IT APPEARS to me, gentlemen, that since we are going this day to Uske with the deliberate intent and fixed resolve of taking our pleasure there, it would be well for me to devise a tale concerning that town aforesaid, and so I will bring a text for you out of its byways and make an ancient moral story. You shall understand then that a good many years ago (how many I will not say, lest the Rubrican catch me tripping in my antiquities) there was a young gentleman living in Uske, called the Sieur Payne Martell, whose coat was so splendid and princely a one that he could never have it blazoned on his vestments in full, because the bill would have been too long for anything, or for his purse at all events. When I say never I speak not by the book, for I mean to say in his young days with which my tale is concerned; but when he was about fifty years old he went as brave as any one; and for this you may look in the tournament-rolls of Windsor and in the Inquistio Post Mortem held some years afterwards. This young knight then lived at Uske in a very pleasant and retired manner, subsisting on the contents of a small chest he had; the said chest containing a beggarly number of gold pieces; how gained I will not dare to say: because I really don't know. For all I can pronounce they might have been the few remaining feathers of a fine bird that had flown away; an estate to wit, maybe they came from the high toby; in which case we should call them extract of moonlight and fifth essence of the dark lantern. But since it is of no great consequence how money be gotten, it would be waste of time to discuss these hypotheticals; for the fact that I want to get into your heads is that these yellowboys kept disappearing till at last there were very few left. Not that there was any mystery in the matter, any more than there is in the necessity our mortal nature has for meat and drink; but there was a good deal of mystery in Sir Payne's mind as to how he should refill his chest again. This question he endeavoured to solve in lonely walks about the woods and hillsides, and along the banks of the fair water of the Uske, lying full length in the long grass under the shade of a hedge-row and looking hard into the river. I believe he expected a river-maiden to take a fancy to him and bring up her treasure from the chambers below the Uske; for he was not a bad looking gentleman and your nymphs and all their sort are notoriously addicted to imprudent wedlock with mortal men. But Sir Payne was never startled out of his dreamy gazing by the sudden radiance of dripping golden hair and he began to be afraid that the tales of these damp ardent girls were not quite true. This thought made him feel sadder than before, since he was a knight loving of wonders, full of faith, as poor as a rat, and fond of fine girls: but he did not despair and still chiefly frequented the Uske, sometimes amusing himself by throwing sticks into the stream and watching them float away. And when the angelus sounded in the valley (though he sometimes waited till the sunset) he would get on his legs with a sigh and trudge home, and then lie down in his cockloft and fall asleep, muttering to himself "I don't much care if I never wake again in this horrible earth"—though, to be sure, he did not quite mean it. But you see the poor gentleman was in want of everything that makes life pleasant; and there are times when all of us, with cause and without, read King Solomon's Sermons with a sad relish. But Sir Payne would have done well to remember that this good King wrote a Song (and a Song of Songs) as well as a Sermon; and if one has a smack or two of the whip, why by the splendour of Love's firmament! there's a smack of a kiss and the unction (what sweeter, what more comfortable) distilled from a pair of darling lips, also. In our degenerate days, doubtless, it would be thought unwise of a man to spend his days by the riverside, waiting for a water-maid to woo him; but Sir Payne was no pagan and had great faith; and from my history you will understand that he was in the right and could have chosen no better way to mend his fortune. It was one day in June, between Midsummer and Petertide, a highday of Beelzebub (if he in truth have lordship over the flies), a day of swarming bees, of ripening cherries, of chiming foxglove, of still air moved now and again by faint breezes, but most of all a day of roses. Roses did hang everywhere, by hedgerow and byway and brake and river, white and red, in bud and blossoming, filling the fields with a faint scent that could scarce be perceived but might not be denied. And on this day Sir Payne was lying according to his use by the Uske, keeping well in the hedge's shadow, and just above him with boughs falling to his hand was a great bush of pink roses, and here and there was a blossom almost as red as blood, but most were paler. But their odour came not to his nostrils since beside the rose bush grew an elder tree, the bloom of which is strongly fragrant, and it made the air heavy all around. And while he thus lay, pondering and dreaming and listening to the perpetual ripple of the river (for on the opposite side it was shallow) the bell of the Priory began to ring for Nonesong very sweetly, and looking up he noticed the roses, and a quaint thought came into his head. How these fancies are engendered I know not; but it is certain that if one seek for them they are not to be found, but they come and go at their pleasure and are altogether licentious. And this thought of Sir Payne's was to fashion a wreath of roses and to cast it on the current of the Uske; and thus to make an oblation to those maidens of high race of Færie, to whom belongeth every winding of the river, every ripple and little tributary brooklet, all broad spaces and reaches of still and glassy water, from the wells in the mountains unto Severn Sea. And so he twined his fret of blossoms, setting four of the reddest at four points of the circle, and cast it well out into the stream. At first he was afraid, for the wreath floated to the other side and seemed in danger of being caught by a great bramble that hung from the bank; but it did but touch a thorn and swam out again into midstream, and passed round the bend of the river. And to speak the truth Payne had not long to wait for an answer to his flower offering; for in less time than a good church clock takes to strike noon, he heard the even plash of oars, mingling with vyall notes and the sound of singing, coming towards him from the way of Caerleon. The knight made no doubt at all that he was about to be borne away to Avilion like King Arthur by three fair ladies of Færie; but herein he went a little too far, for that Island is kept for great lords and princes, else it would be overcrowded. But presently (the music and the noise of oars growing louder and more plainly measured) Payne saw a painted barge swing round into his view, rowed by six rowers who now held their oars aloft; and an old white-bearded knight in glittering vesture held artfully the helm. Below him sat three or four ladies with as many knights and beyond them was the musick, who now ceased a little while, to rest. But as they came nearer Sir Payne saw to his wonder and rejoicing that his rose-garland crowned one of the ladies and instantly he plucked another of the redder blossoms and held it in his hand. Now as the barge grew point by point along the river the musick fell to again and began with long drawn harmony of vyalls and a deep tenor throat that divine ballad Soubz cest Amour mon coeur est endormy. And as they passed by, Sir Payne gazed a moment into the eyes of the girl sitting nearest to the helmsman, who wore his rosy fret, and he saw that she was very beautiful. And she, who was keen of wit and sight, noted the red rose in the poor knight's fingers, and smiled on him: ah! such a smile, that made the earth seem lovelier; and the passionate melody thrilled to his heart—mon coeur est endormy he sang to himself softly and the barge had passed. And soon by another winding of the river it was hidden from his sight and the musick came faintly on the summer air, and Sir Payne was alone once more. But can we call him alone when on the swirl of the water he saw that gilded, painted barge perpetually advancing, heard the stroke of the oars, and the first long sweep of the bow upon the vyalls. And there in the marvellous mirror of the Uske he likewise saw the maiden sitting beneath his rose garland, a maiden clad in white velvet, wearing a collar of jewells, and having wings of golden gauze floating from her head, like the wings of a gorgeous butterfly! All this was a rare and curious sight for the eyes of a gallant gentleman to feast upon, and Payne saw everything very clearly, for you must remember he had been fasting for some time like any hermit, and was therefore in the right state to see visions. He found them indeed so entirely to his taste that neither evensong, nor curfew, nor compline stirred him; and it was in the meadow by the riverside that he took his sleep that night and woke up the next morning rather hungry and quite ready for breakfast and whatsoever should happen to come after it. As to the former contentment he was fortunate in having the acquaintance of the Lardarius of the Priory at Uske, one brother Pacificus, a monk to the backbone. The which is so much as to say, a man with strong sinews, a deep bass voice and a sound heart. This honest monk Sir Payne sought out in his larder, a small room, but a fragrant, and full of good things such as sauces, condiments, old cheese, tasty preserved meats and sausages, with odd-looking little flasks stowed away here and there in nooks and crannies. Herein the hungry knight found the Larderer who had just taken off his quire habit, for primesong was scarcely over, and Sir Payne hinted that if anybody thought of taking breakfast he should not be averse to fall in with the notion. "Surely, fair son;" answered the monk, "I am about to take some little refreshment myself and here there is always a cup and a platter for you: and for a beginning try these cherries from our orchard, just gathered, one of these white manchets, a few strawberries and a flask of cool red wine that has spent an hour or two in the well." With these simple dainties they began and then Brother Pacificus drew out the substantial part and the truly monastic fare. This was a sausage about as long as a man's arm, rather crooked, but splendidly attired in a vestment of gold leaf, as though it had been an uncial J in a Missal. In short it was one of those "Uske Puddings" for which the Priory had been famed time out of mind, of which the Prior made an Easter offering every year to the Bishop of Llandaff, and on which many high ecclesiastical persons had been regaled on Gaudy-Days. While Brother Pacificus was stripping this peppery unctuous customer of his skin, Sir Payne's blue eyes twinkled finely, for he knew the taste of these gay fellows and was aware that it was always necessary to drink a lot of good wine afterwards; and when a man had done this he was in the humour to pull Satan's tail and follow up the attention with a hearty kick. And when the two comrades were in the midst of their disjune the knight began to ask the monk (who knew everybody) about the barge he had seen the day before. "An old knight, Father, steered it; a well-looking man with a white beard and a gyppon all glistening with gold; and below him sat a fair young lady, golden haired and intolerably beautiful, in a tunic of white velours; and other ladies and knights were there, and minstrels also." "You saw, I think, Sir Rowland Bluet; for he often goes thus on the water, and his daughter Alianor is truly a comely maiden; but what was his coat, since you doubtless noted it?" "He bore three golden chevrons on a sanguine field crusoly of the first, and the maiden's cote hardie was pounced all over with the golden crosses." "That to be sure is Sir Rowland's coat; a good knight, a very worshipful gentleman, but somewhat stern and not by any man to be trifled with. But you may see his house not far from the Castle, with a high wall all around it and a great chestnut tree growing in the court. As for Mistress Alianor, she is the child of his old age, very dear to him, and intended for some great lord; and to be sure together with her beauty she will bring her husband a comfortable dowry and many a fat meadow in the vale of Uske." This comfortable news was the best sauce in the larder for Sir Payne, and he got very genial over his tenth cup, since he made no account of Sir Rowland Bluet's severity or of his disposition of his daughter, justly reckoning such matters of small importance. And by the time the bell began to ring for terce Sir Payne thought a little rest and meditation in some shady place would be good for him; as his head was very clear, and he felt that if he could have quiet he would soon be able to make excellent arrangements. The people of Porth-y-carne street who saw him walking towards the bridge said he was drunk, but for once, they made a mistake I believe; since it is wrong to call a man drunk or fuddled who is arguing and smiling to himself so brightly and merrily that the very children laugh to see him. In this agreeable state Sir Payne met at least five pretty girls, and he kissed every one in a calm but decided manner. The which shows his wits were in good order, for one cannot mark one's approbation of a nice feature in a nicer way. Will anybody deny this? I believe not. And after resolutely and admirably discharging these duties the knight got away to his old nook by the river and there dreamt a thousand pleasant dreams, wove innumerable fancies, bathed his head in sunshine and the water of the Uske, and perceived that the brightest butterflies all carry on their backs a little naked boy, and that every flower whereon they rest hath a little maid of færy in it. He saw also long pomps of folk in green array pass below the tall grasses, with minstrels blowing great honeysuckle trumpets and heralds in golden tabards; and down in the river the stars were shining. I suppose it was in these stars that he saw it figured that Mistress Alianor Bluet would walk on the river bank after Evensong with no more retinue than her page and a girl; but however that may be he discovered this fact and duly betook himself to thitherward, wearing on his sleeve a red rose and looking for all his poor vestments a gentleman of true blood and loyal lineage. It is in this high regard that a man of quality is easily discerned and distinguished from a rich scurf whose only arms are the royal ones on his gold crowns. There by the woods and waterside Sir Payne met the lady of his thoughts slowly and gently pacing, and whispering to the girl beside her; who was only a little way behind her mistress in beauty. From afar off the pair spied one another, and like the afterglow of sunset flushed Alianor's cheeks, so that she was considered to blush, and she caught her fellow tightly by the arm, murmuring "He whom you see approaching us it was that sent me the garland yesterday. Shall we not turn and pass away through the woods." "Courage! mistress," answered the girl; "he seems to me a proper gentleman enough and a hardy; and you know:
Oyez bien dire.
However let us see how he carries himself at close quarters, and then you can turn back if it be your pleasure." This advice suited Alianor very well, so they paced still slowly on, till they met Sir Payne Martell, who took care to let his rose be seen, and directed one look of humble supplication towards the lovely Alianor. And when they had gone a little way he turned and followed them, the which was soon perceived by the waiting-maid who beckoned to him with her eyes and lips to have a good heart and not to be afraid. Thus encouraged Sir Payne followed in their footsteps hoping to see Alianor turn her face a little toward him, but she was indeed too bashful, and her maid had much ado to bring her up to the mark. At last when they came to a very quiet bend, thickly wooded on both sides (but one or two spaces of sunset flame appeared between the leaves) the page left his lady's train and coming to the knight said "my lady Alianor Bluet bids you come before her presently." This did Sir Payne, you may be sure, and found the two maidens seated on the grass, the servant glancing roguishly at him, and Alianor half smiling half frowing, but altogether almost too lovely even for Gwent and the purlieus of Uske. "What makes you follow me thus?" said she as the knight bent before her, for she wished to begin the service in a high tone, trusting they might come to the secreta afterwards, contrary to the use of ecclesiastics. "I guard your ways, sweet mistress," answered he, "for that I am a knight of the Rose and bound by my vows and solemn promises to wait on the chiefest of all roses, in whom alone is conjoined the perfect red and white." "By St. Dorothy, sir knight, I have never heard tell of such an order, pray teach me who is the sovereign of it." "He is called by some the Lord of Love, for he is a mighty and puissant prince." "Are there many knights then enrolled in this order?" "Many for one cannot be a perfect knight without a lot in this brotherhood, in which high courage and the worship of loveliness are taught us, and all the service of incomparable beauty." ("He uses mighty fine words" said the serving maid, "he talks like a grammarian, and hath a noble nose.") "And how fares your brotherhood in poverty," went on Alianor, "for perhaps some of you have not very large estates and are not able to make a brave show, nor to sit beside the ladies you adore, nor to lead them out to dance." "'Tis then our sovereign lord doth succour us and opens to us the wicket into his close, and there we either live most blissfully or gladly die seised of Love's demesne." Thus Alianor and her knight played at question and answer, like two girls on a lawn tossing the ball either to other and coming nearer at every throw. Meanwhile the maid and the page were playing amidst the trees and laughing, for the boy wished to kiss the girl, she said he was too young for kissing, told him to wait a year or two and then he might do what he liked with her lips. But he could not wait and chased her round and round the oaks till her foot slipped and she fell right into his arms and lay still there thinking a pretty boy of thirteen better than nothing. And as these pastimes went on the ball turned and returned between Alianor and Payne till at last they got so close together that the poor knight ventured to slide his fingers into the lady's hand, and not long after to draw her to him, supposing that as she said not a word she found his ways not quite distasteful. But by the time Payne was beginning to discover what it was to have won the love of the prettiest girl along the Uske, the serving-maid and page came up with reverent faces to let the lovers know that it was almost dark and full time to separate; and indeed it is likely that neither of them would have found out these facts without some prompting. However they made an appointment to meet again in certain woods that lie on the hills to northward of the town and said goodnight fondly to one another. Maybe you remember the first time that your sweetheart said goodnight to you in sweetheart-wise, for there are circumstances therein that make the blood run swiftly and raise golden fancies in the mind. And if you have not forgotten you will understand how Payne wandered home to his garret, marvelling how happy a world it is and how beautiful all things surely are. In fact the streets of Uske grew very spacious, and loftily the houses rose upward in the gloom, especially the mansion of Sir Rowland Bluet that had a high wall all around, above which one could see the great chestnut tree. Sir Payne slept that night a happy sleep, a sleep furnished with fragments of sweet musick, snatches of quaint song, curious scents and pinnacled castles, a sleep rigged out with the most rarest dreams and illuminated with red stars. The which must be set down I suppose to the gentleman's being in love, a complaint that bears the responsibility of a good many transactions and is as needful to a tale as a nose is to a face. Depend upon it a face without a nose is no true face, it is incomplete, and the like may be said of a story that lacks love. But this matter at Uske was indeed a fine love affair, secret, ardent and well-planned from the beginning; daily calling for fresh stratagems and new meeting-places and all those counterfeits that lovers take delight in, though to be sure they are made more for show than use. Yet I suppose this couple might have learnt the alphabet together for a long time without being found out, if Payne had been content to bear his mistress company in her country walks and sunset meditations in the woods by the river. But being a young fellow of adventure, fond of dangerous places and warm corners he must needs propose a midnight interview, notwithstanding that he knew well enough Sir Rowland's sharp ways and his dislike of uninvited guests. Alianor received this plan with a shake of the head at first, but before long became convinced that it would be rather pleasant, and at last agreed to Payne's desire. This was dead against the counsel of her maid who affirmed that such meetings often led to bad blood, cuts, slashes, and strong language, nay, she said, brave gallant gentlemen had sometimes left the world on such occasions without having leisure to see after their affairs. However nobody paid any attention to this wise girl, who was fond of pleasure but very wary, having noticed that people who enjoy themselves too much often die young. In short Alianor agreed to keep wide awake on the Wednesday night following, the which arrangement left Payne two clear days to knock his notions into shape and to perfect whatever contrivances he had in his brain. The Tuesday he spent chiefly at the Priory, eating and drinking of the best and hearing conclusions from the most experienced monks concerning the excellent and kindred arts of getting into and getting out of difficult and perilous places. On these points Payne heard some curious discourses and Breviates, but the advice that pleased him best was that delivered by a very ancient monk who had seen many Priors enthroned and had helped to sing the Dirige and the De Profundis over most of them. "My son," said Brother Audaenus, "take the nearest path, follow your nose, go on steadily, and if necessary fall asleep till the coast be clear. For thus you will imitate the pious example Sanctorum vij Dormientium—of the Seven Sleepers, whose holyday we keep to-morrow: and they, you know, slept hard and went on sleeping as only saints can sleep, till the right time came to them for rubbing their eyes. And don't forget that though you may seem to be sliding down hill very fast, yet it's probable you may strike upon a side passage that will lead you to the top." "Brethren, pray fill this holy man a full cup, for I think we have in his words the kernel of the matter." This was done and Brother Audœnus raised his chalice in the air and drank to the pious memory of the Seven Sleepers, and Sir Payne went home to ponder over the counsels of the ancient monk, and to discover how they might be fitted to his necessities. But just as he was going out Brother Pacificus the Larderer slipt something into his hand, muttering "take this, it will be sure to come in useful" and this something proved to be one of the monastic sausages, royally arrayed in cloth of gold. On the night following close upon Midnight Sir Payne began his enterprise by scaling the court-wall of Sir Rowland Bluet's mansion, the which he accomplished not without difficulty, but at last came to the top and set forth straightway on his journey to his lady's lattice, the road being along the boughs of the chestnut tree that spread from the wall to the house. You may be sure he trod softly and made no more noise than he was able, often stopping and peering about to discover whether he was on the right road, for the branches went in all directions and Payne had no great desire for an interview with Sir Rowland, who might wish to know what he wanted with him. However by slow degrees he reached a bough overhanging Alianor's window and began to sing under his breath Soubz cest Amour as was agreed upon; when the lattice was swiftly opened and his sweetheart's face looked out and her hand beckoned him to come. This he did quickly enough, swinging himself down as aptly as if he were a mariner; and the lovers began to busily engage themselves in making up for the time they had lost, fondly gazing into each other's eyes and again and again drawing close together to drink that sweet essence that some set far above the rarest wine. But in the midst of this pleasant pastime, whiles their blood ran hot and swiftly, and their cheeks were close together, their arms twined round one another's necks, they heard suddenly deep oaths, clashing steel, and trampling feet, all these noises manifestly rolling toward Alianor's chamber and growing every moment louder and more vehement. I do not doubt that those of my hearers who are sharp-witted have guessed that Sir Rowland had discovered he had more guests under his roof than he was aware, and while Payne and Alianor are cooling down a little and making the best of their short time for reflection I will tell you how the old knight had gained his knowledge. You must understand then that there dwelt in the house an animal called a scholar, by name Master Lawrence, the same being some kind of kinsman to Sir Rowland, and having free lodging with him whenever he chose to lie at Uske. Most part of this fellow's time was spent in dodging between Oxford and Paris, Padua and Salamanca, in which places he peddled philosophy always finding people ready to deal in his wares, for he cast a confused light on places that had hitherto been plain enough, and wrapped up what was obscure in the dark mists of his brain. This Master Lawrence was also known to have a new system of his own invention, the which was very quidditative and had statements in it that made simple people stare and press their hands to their heads: and thereat he was now labouring in his apartment not very far from Alianor's. You see if he had been a true scholar the noise of someone feeling his way along the branches of the chestnut would not have moved him in the least; but as it was he put out his lamp and set himself to watch for what should come next. We know of course that Sir Payne came next, and no sooner had he set his feet on the floor of his sweetheart's room than Master Lawrence posted off to the old knight's bedside and then and there let him know that his daughter had a friend staying with her, just arrived from anywhere you like by way of the tree. I confess the news was rather startling, but I don't think it was right for an old man to swear so violently, and to abuse his servants because they were asleep and not awake at midnight was clearly unreasonable. However they were all armed to the teeth in fifty Aves, and began their march to the lady's bower, and Sir Rowland led the cursing which was not pleasant to listen to. When this noise and the noise of steel first came to Payne's ears he wished to stand beside Alianor and make a fight of it, though a short sword was the only arm he had, but she would by no means suffer him, bidding him begone as he came through the window. But just as he put his foot on the ledge a shout arose from the court, and there he saw plainly enough four stout fellows with torches and drawn swords, who had that instant come forth from within; and the red glare from the street told him that he was expected there also. Circumstances of this kind try a man's wits, and Payne stood still a moment doubtful what to do, but a rush against the door and a cry from Alianor pricked him on; so drawing the golden sausage from his sleeve and whirling it round and round in the air he leapt into the midst of the leaves with a fearful din ringing in his ears, and a howl from one of the men below on whose nose a piece of dead wood had dropped unexpectedly, much to his terror and annoyance. However they all thought they had caught their bird as certainly as if they had him in the cage; Sir Rowland and the scholar waiting in the room to guard the window and the rest going down into the court and the street, where they stood in a ring with their swords in readiness and their faces all turned upwards like a sort of astrologers on a quodlibet day. One or two hardy souls were for mounting up there and then and taking captive or putting to the sword, but they who had seen Payne come forth would have none of that. "He hath, look you" said they, "a great brand that he whirls around like lightning, and would kill every soul of us, one by one, if we went up in the dark." So it was agreed to wait till dawn and then to bring ladders and plant them all round and carry the place by storm; to which Sir Rowland consented, for he perceived that his men would not do otherwise. To Alianor he said little, keeping all his wrath for her gallant, and from what he did say he got little satisfaction, since she flatly denied that anyone had been with her. Thus was watch and ward kept around the chestnut tree all through that night, till the day dawned and people in Uske began to run together, to stand in rows, to roar with laughter, to chuckle and to grin at the sight of half a dozen men armed to the teeth with drawn swords and ghastly torches, standing under a wall holding their heads on one side, and not speaking a word. But it was sorry fun to them on guard for they ached all over, and their necks had become fixed awry, and not one relished the prospect of encountering the sausage which they had made into a sword; even in broad daylight.
But when the sun was well above the woods, strong cordial waters were served out to each, and Sir Rowland made an oration to them from the window promising fine things to the man who should make capture of the miscreant. Then by way of beginning fairly they shot three flights of arrows into the tree waiting after each volley for a groan or a heavy fall, but there was not a sound, and poor Alianor, whose soul was in her ears, began to take courage and to hope that her lover had contrived somehow to steal away. Then ladders were brought and fixed all round the stem of the tree, and whilst the chosen men began to climb the rest kept double watch determined to be taken aback by no sudden leaps. But the crowd (which grew every minute) when they saw the men's heads appear above the wall, as they mounted upwards, grew silent, for this seemed an entertainment too good for common mirth, and by a great deal better than a hanging. I think indeed that the explorers went up the steps very much as if they were about to be hanged; however this perilous climb was accomplished in safety and they began to tread the boughs warily and tenderly as if they trod eggs, expecting at each step the onset of the enemy. But the fates did not will that any should die by that fearful sword, and they wandered unharmed from one side to the other, from the top to the bottom, and found not him they sought nor any trace of him at all. So they called for more to help them, and one or two young rascals of the town, mere jackanapes at climbing, swarmed up to the swaying summit and lay out on the farthest boughs, these squinting crosswise and those downward, whilst the solid serving men poked and beat and squatted and leaned over in the more central and secure places. But after an hour of this curious forestcraft it evidently appeared that he whom the searchers searched for was not there; and then I must confess the crowd began to jeer and hoot and make horns; since to keep guard all night over nothing and then to seek for it at dawning seemed to them an act of folly. But Sir Rowland was fit to burst with rage, and stamped about reviling his daughter and cursing his men, who (he swore) had slept standing, and at last turned on Master Lawrence, telling him that he had conceived the whole affair in his cloudy besotted brain, and this was all the reward Lawrence got for his pains. But when the story reached the Priory the monks made a shrewd guess as to who had got into this scrape and doubted not that he had crawled out of it by following the advice of Brother Audaenus—and by the aid of the gilt pudding, said the Larderer unto himself. But as a matter of fact Payne had taken a long leap through the gloom of midnight, across the flame of torches into the depths of the tree; and while he steadied himself a moment his hand pressed hard on a bough above his head, just in the place where there was an odd lump in the bark. Then strange to say the solid wood gave way from beneath his feet and he began to go down and down; down-a-down, steadily and swiftly to silence and pitch darkness, till he verily believed that he should soon discover whether Sir John Maundeville were right or wrong concerning the antipodes. Not that he cared two pins about the matter, but he thought since he had come so far it would be as well to look into it. However the earth brought at last his deep courses to a stay, and Payne was free to choose his own path and go wherever he liked, by which I mean to say, wherever he could. And now I am going to be exact and mighty positive about what happened down below; since I do not wish you to swallow a pack of fantastick lying legends, but only the exact truth. But the old Canon who told me this story thought fit to do quite otherwise (I suppose he took me for a fool); and gravely enough, without a crease in his cassock, showed how Sir Payne struck upon a passage that led to the underground Abbey of Thermopota, and lay there for eight nights, while the monks celebrated the high feast of Sct. Ypocras, and held their great Rose-Chapter. But I take it there is no truth in this; rather, when Sir Payne found there was no more falling to be done, he proceeded to light a wax taper, and with this to speculate and survey into what kind of a place he had come. But before proceeding about this business in earnest he had a hearty laugh over the people up above, who were on the look out for his descent, and firmly resolved to follow the advice of old Audoenus, who clearly understood these matters. Looking around he then perceived that he was in a small vaulted chamber with an opening in the stones through which he came, and the walls were strangely painted with mystical devices in red and gold and on them were carven symbols and hieroglyphical emblems, like those they say adorn the wonderful Cloud Castle of Rohalgo. But of more account than these curiosities he held the oaken door thickly pounced with great iron nails, and feeling the handle he found that it moved easily and so was the way laid open before him. Therewith went Payne from the vaulted room below the roots of the tree, and saw that he had come to a level passage, in height about six feet and four in breadth, and in length as it might be, for one taper will not light an alley. With his nose for leader he began to pace along this dark alure, comforting himself with the thought that it certainly led somewhither, and praising himself for his foresight in bringing a candle with him, but 'twas not before he had gone a hundred paces that he found out what fine things this candle was able to show him. Then casting a side glance to his right he saw a painting on the wall, as fresh and gay as if it had just received the last touch, and furnished with come curious conceits. On a marble bench, overshadowed with mulberry trees, he saw an ugly old man with goggle eyes sitting, and beside him were masks of all shapes and forms, each one wrinkled into a stupendous grin; and with his hands the old fellow was kneading and twisting the mouth of one of these masks, while at his elbow lay one whose nose he had adorned with warts and knobs most hideous to behold. And beneath this picture was written in Latin The Invention of Laughter. A little beyond stood painted a Court of ancient, black gowned men sitting at a table; with their clerks beneath them writing on great rolls of parchment; and before this court were a naked youth and a maiden, hand in hand, who seemed to plead for mercy. This was called The Court Baron of Love. I pass over other pictures that Sir Payne did see, called Joyous Disport, The Triumph of Folly, and The Battle of the Rocks; and stop at the likeness of a great white goose, standing by a stream and bending her neck round to her tail, for under this was a long legend, beginning Form and Matter. Next was a maiden of bewitching comeliness, lying amidst flowers beside a wandering brooklet, with flashes of sunlight lighting on her beautiful færy body, but vainly matching itself against the glory of her black eyes, and the roguish smile on her full red lips. Her name was set down in large characters, and she was no less than The Muse of Gwent. Here was a chemist's laboratory, wherein a man of savage and starved countenance and tattered vestments stirred a great furnace, for he was Extracting Fifth Essence; and to cut short the last picture Payne saw was entitled The Manour Perpetual—a sheltered, wooded valley; a place of lawns, and quiet waters and tall blossoming hedges, beneath which lay men who seemed to rest at last. But these devices I have named are not the tenth part of them that he beheld on the walls of the dim passage; so that when he had gazed upon them all and the way began to mount again, he was weary and was fain to dout his light and lie down to sleep. How long he slept I know not, but when he awoke he lit again his taper, and joyfully remembering the sausage fell upon it with a will, drinking a little out of a cordial flask he had about him. This refreshment gave Payne courage for the upward journey; though to be sure he had to drain his flask before his mounting was done, for it seemed to be without end. Now he turned to right and now to left; now went round and round as in a tower, till at last to his joy he heard a voice close to him, and what is more, a voice somewhat familiar and dear; for it was Alianor's. Then with his candle he viewed the wall to search for an escape, and presently came to a wood panel with a boss of wood in the midst of it. And he listened again and heard that it was Alianor and her maid who talked; and then once more came from his lips the song Soubz cest amour mon coeur ⟨est⟩ endormy. In a moment his sweetheart ran forward, and as she came to the wall Sir Payne pressed the boss and half the panel sank down, and once more her arms did twine about his neck. One cannot speak of meetings of this kind, for it is not possible to describe what they are like, and to be short, if you wish to know, you must have them, and then you will understand quite perfectly. And since I hear the bells of Uske begin to chime I will tell you in brief that Payne lay hid in Alianor's chamber till the coast was clear, and then slipt away with ⟨her and⟩ her maid and became a servant of the Baron of Burgavenny, for whom he struck many a weighty stroke in the wars of the Marches. But since the panel was in place again when Sir Rowland came in and found the room empty, this affair was never rightly understood at Uske, though most who passed along Porthycarne Street looked wise when they saw the great chestnut. And the moral of this story is that we may reach our goal by a crooked path through an opening in an unexpected place.