Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of GoldJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Great Britain -- History -- Henry VIII, 1509-1547 -- Fiction; Henry VIII, King of England, 1491-1547 -- Fiction
"If I wished to rob thee, my gentleman," answered Longpole, "I'd cut
thy throat too, for breaking my companion's head, who lies there in
the road as if he were dead, or rather as if he were asleep, for he's
snoring like the father-hog of a large family, the Portingallo
vagabond! However, I'll have you both away; then those who sent to
seek you will know which it is they want. Hollo there! knock that
fellow down that's fingering the bags. If one of you touch a stiver
I'll make your skins smart for it."
"I see several Portingals," said Sir Osborne, "or I mistake. Is it not
so?"
"Ay, Portingals and Dutchers, and such like mixed," replied Longpole.
"But come; you must go along."
A light now broke upon the mind of Sir Osborne. "Listen," cried he to
the Englishman, as he was preparing to lead them away; "how comes it
that you Englishmen join yourselves with a beggarly race of wandering
vagabonds to revenge the quarrel of a base-born Portingallo captain
upon one of your own countrymen? Give me but a moment, and you shall
hear whether he did not deserve the punishment I inflicted."
Longpole seemed willing to hear, and one or two others came round,
while the rest employed themselves in quieting the knight's horse,
that, finding himself in hands he was unaccustomed to, began plunging
and kicking most violently.
"I will be short," said the knight. "This Portingal had agreed to
furnish a cargo of fruits to the Imperial army in Flanders; 'tis now
two years ago, for we had a malignant fever in the camp. He got the
money when they were landed, and was bringing them under a small
escort, which I commanded, when we found our junction cut off by the
right wing of the enemy's army, which had wheeled. The greatest
exertion was necessary to pass round through a hollow way; the least
noise, the least flutter of a pennon, would have betrayed us to the
French outposts, who were not more than a bow-shot from us, when our
Portingal stopped in the midst, and vowed he would not go on, unless I
promised to pay him double for the fruit, and not to tell anybody of
what he had done. If I had run my lance through him, as I was tempted,
his companions would have made a noise, and we were lost; so I was
obliged to promise. He knew he could trust the word of an English
knight, so he went on quietly enough, and got his money; but then I
took him out into a field, and after a struggle, I tied him to a tree,
and lashed him with my stirrup-leathers till his back was flayed. He
was not worth a knight's sword, or I would have swept his head off.
But tell me, is it for this a party of Englishmen maltreat their
countrymen?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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