Michel and Angele [A Ladder of Swords] — Volume 2Parker, Gilbert
History
Michel and Angele [A Ladder of Swords] — Volume 2
Parker, Gilbert
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction; Huguenots -- Fiction; Jersey (Channel Islands) -- Fiction
"Though wintry blasts may prove unkind,
When winter's past we do forget;
Love's breast in summer time is kind,
And all 's well while life 's with us yet
Hey, ho, now the lark is mating,
Life's sweet wages are in waiting!"
Thus sang the fool as the two warriors were helped to their feet.
Cumbered with their armour, and all dust-covered and blood-stained,
though not seriously hurt, they were helped to their horses, and rode to
the dais where the Queen sat.
"Ye have fought like men of old," she said, "and neither had advantage
at the last. England's champion still may cry his challenge and not be
forsworn, and he who challenged goeth in honour again from the lists.
You, sir, who have challenged, shall we not see your face or hear your
voice? For what country, for what prince lifted you the gauge and
challenged England's honour?"
"I crave your high Majesty's pardon"--Angele's heart stood still. Her
love had not pierced his disguise, though Leicester's hate had done so on
the instant--"I crave your noble Majesty's grace," answered the stranger,
"that I may still keep my face covered in humility. My voice speaks for
no country and for no prince. I have fought for mine own honour, and to
prove to England's Queen that she hath a champion who smiteth with strong
arm, as on me and my steed this hath been seen to-day."
"Gallantly thought and well said," answered Elizabeth; "but England's
champion and his strong arm have no victory. If gifts were given they
must needs be cut in twain. But answer me, what is your country? I will
not have it that any man pick up the gauge of England for his own honour.
What is your country?
"I am an exile, your high Majesty; and the only land for which I raise my
sword this day is that land where I have found safety from my enemies."
The Queen turned and smiled at the Duke's Daughter. "I knew not where my
own question might lead, but he hath turned it to full account," she
said, under her breath. "His tongue is as ready as his spear. Then ye
have both laboured in England's honour, and I drink to you both," she
added, and raised to her lips a glass of wine which a page presented.
"I love ye both--in your high qualities," she hastened to add with dry
irony, and her eye rested mockingly on Leicester.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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