The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and Marvels — John Shaqi
The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and MarvelsIngoldsby, Thomas
General
The Ingoldsby Legends; or, Mirth and Marvels
Ingoldsby, Thomas
English fiction -- 19th century; English poetry -- 19th century; English wit and humor; Humorous poetry, English
It has been said before that the Baron had fought in the Holy wars; in
fact, he had accompanied Longshanks, when only heir apparent, in his
expedition twenty-five years before, although his name is unaccountably
omitted by Sir Harris Nicolas in his list of crusaders. He had been
present at Acre when Amirand of Joppa stabbed the prince with a
poisoned dagger, and had lent Princess Eleanor his own tooth-brush
after she had sucked out the venom from the wound.--He had slain
certain Saracens, contented himself with his own plunder, and never
dunned the commissariat for arrears of pay.--Of course he ranked high
in Edward's good graces, and had received the honour of knighthood at
his hands on the field of battle.
In one so circumstanced it cannot be supposed that such a trifle as the
killing of a frowzy friar would be much resented, even had he not taken
so bold a measure to obtain his pardon. His petition was granted, of
course, as soon as asked; and so it would have been had the indictment
drawn up by the Canterbury town-clerk, viz., "That he the said Robert
de Shurland, etc., had then and there, with several, to wit, one
thousand, pairs of boots, given sundry, to wit, two thousand, kicks,
and therewith and thereby killed divers, to wit, ten thousand, Austin
friars," been true to the letter.
Thrice did the gallant grey circumnavigate the barge, while Robert
de Winchelsey, the chancellor, and archbishop to boot, was making
out, albeit with great reluctance, the royal pardon. The interval was
sufficiently long to enable His Majesty, who, gracious as he was, had
always an eye to business, just to hint that the gratitude he felt
towards the Baron was not unmixed with a lively sense of services to
come; and that, if life were now spared him, common decency must oblige
him to make himself useful. Before the archbishop, who had scalded
his fingers with the wax in affixing the great seal, had time to take
them out of his mouth, all was settled, and the Baron de Shurland had
pledged himself to be forthwith in readiness, _cum suis_, to accompany
his liege lord to Guienne.
With the royal pardon secured in his vest, boldly did his lordship turn
again to the shore; and as boldly did his courser oppose his breadth of
chest to the stream. It was a work of no common difficulty or danger;
a steed of less "mettle and bone" had long since sunk in the effort:
as it was, the Baron's boots were full of water, and Grey Dolphin's
chamfrain more than once dipped beneath the wave. The convulsive snorts
of the noble animal shewed his distress; each instant they became more
loud and frequent; when his hoof touched the strand, and "the horse and
his rider" stood once again in safety on the shore.
Rapidly dismounting, the Baron was loosening the girths of his
demi-pique, to give the panting animal breath, when he was aware of
as ugly an old woman as he had ever clapped eyes upon, peeping at him
under the horse's belly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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