Gaston de Blondeville, vol. 1 of 4 : $b or the court of Henry III. keeping festival in Ardenne, a romance. St. Alban's abbey, a metrical tale; with some poetical piecesRadcliffe, Ann Ward
History
Gaston de Blondeville, vol. 1 of 4 : $b or the court of Henry III. keeping festival in Ardenne, a romance. St. Alban's abbey, a metrical tale; with some poetical pieces
Radcliffe, Ann Ward
Gothic fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Henry III, 1216-1272 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
But that, which caused some surprise to those who watched without, was a
sudden turmoil, that appeared around the King in the court, just as the
Queen’s litter was advancing forth of the archway. A man was seen
forcing himself among the guards, towards his Highness, who turned his
face backwards in the sun, as if to see what was going on; and seemed to
rein in his steed, while he held forth his right arm to Sir Gaston de
Blondeville, who, with cap in hand, leaned forward on his courser, as if
receiving some command. The while, the heads and spears of soldiers
gathered round, moving in tumultuous hurry, rising and falling
incessantly, like unto those stormy white tops coming on over a darkened
sea.
On a sudden, the King disappeared: some thought he had fallen from his
steed, struck by the hand of the stranger; and then, such was the throng
of people beyond the portal to get forward for more certainty, that
hardly could the Queen’s guard keep them back, till his Highness was
seen ascending the steps of the high court.
At last, out of the midst of the confusion a shield was seen raised upon
the traversed spears of six soldiers, and borne towards the outer gate,
having upon it a man stretched, as if dead. But at the great portal the
soldiers stopped, and drew aside to make way for the Queen; his
Highness, meanwhile, with his nobles and young knight, had withdrawn
into the state apartments.
When her Highness was gone by, they brought the man upon the shield into
the free air without the walls, and lowered their burden on the grass;
but the tumult of the people was so great, (they suspecting that he had
attempted the Kings life) that the soldiers with their spears had much
ado to save him from their fury, or to keep a little space open around
him.
He was a man of goodly appearance, that lay there, seeming without life.
Anon, he began to stir himself, and in a little while opened his eyes;
the which, when the people saw it, redoubled their fury; and they
demanded, that he should be had to prison, for “he has assailed the life
of our good King!” With that they made such a roaring, that the shouts
of the soldiers, who wanted to set them right, could not be heard, the
women brawling louder than all of them together.
Thus it went for some time: and then, the noise being hushed, they found
out the man was innocent of what they had suspected.
When the stranger had recovered himself a little, he stared wildly; and,
raising himself up, he looked round him, as if examining the countenance
of every one, whom curiosity or anger had made to bend over him. And so
he looked again and again, till they asked him, if he thought he saw the
countenance of any one there, whom he knew. Then he fetched a deep sigh,
and said, “I as surely saw him as I now breathe, but he is not here.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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