Great Britain -- History -- Stephen, 1135-1154 -- Fiction
"'Tis mine own father's house," said she as she came within our gates,
"'tis the gift and doing of mine own father, of blessed memory, and
much, oh monks! did you wrong him and me by entertaining within these
walls the foul usurper Stephen. The usurper is rotting in the nethermost
dungeon of Bristowe Castle, and there let him die; but, oh abbat, lead
me to my dear father's tomb, that I may say a prayer for the good of his
soul; and see in the coining place what money thou hast in hand, for
much do I lack money and must for the nonce be a borrower! Bid thy
people make ready a banquet in the hall, for we be all fasting and right
hungry; and send into the township and call forth each man that hath a
horse and a sword, in order that he may follow us to Oxenford, and help
to be our guard upon the way. Do these few things, oh abbat, and I will
yet hold thee in good esteem. The land rings with thy great wealth and
power. By Notre Dame of Anjou! 'tis a goodly house, and the walls be
strong, and the ditch round about broad and deep,--by the holy visage of
St. Luke! I will not hence to-night though all the rebel citizens of
London, that do swarm like bees from their hives, should follow me so
far."
Our good lord abbat could do little more than bow and cross himself, and
our prior of the bellicose humour, who partook in our abbat's affection
for King Stephen, reddened in the face and turned aside his face and
grinded his teeth, and muttered down his own throat, "Beshrew the
distaff! The Beauclerc, her sire, was more courteous unto clerks!"
Our sub-prior, being of a more supple nature, and being, moreover, not
without his hopes of being nominated to the abbatial dignity so soon as
our lord abbat should be laid under the chancel of the abbey church,
kneeled before the empress-queen, and then formed some of the monks _in
processionale_, and began lead the way to the sepulchre of Henricus
Primus. But this roused the abbat and threw the thoughts of our prior
into another channel, and the lord abbat said in a grim and loud whisper
unto the sub-prior, "I am chief here, and none must move without my
bidding;" and the prior said without any essay at a whisper, "Oh, sub,
seek not to climb above _me_!"
The proud woman reddened and said, "If ye would honour me, oh monks, as
your queen, make haste to do it! An ye will not, I can get me in without
your ceremonies. No time have I to lose, and money and aid must be
forthcoming!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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