The Life and Death of Richard Yea-and-NayHewlett, Maurice
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The Life and Death of Richard Yea-and-Nay
Hewlett, Maurice
Richard I, King of England, 1157-1199 -- Fiction
'I had to do with that, Eustace,' she said. 'He laid the death of the
King, and I laid his death at the price of my marriage. He deserved it.'
'Sister,' said Saint-Pol, 'he did deserve it; and I deserve what he had.
Oh, sire,' he urged with tears, 'take my life, as your right is, but
forgive me first.'
'What have I to forgive you, brother?' said Richard. 'Come, kiss me. We
were good friends in the old days.' Saint-Pol, with tears, kissed him.
Richard sat up.
'I require you now, Saint-Pol and Des Barres, that between you you
defend my son Fulke. Milo has the deeds of his lands of Cuigny. Bring
him up a good knight, and let him think gentlier of his father than that
father ever did of his. Will you do this? Make haste, make haste!'
The Queen broke in with a cry. 'Oh, sire! oh, sire! Is there nothing for
me? Madame!' she turned to Jehane and held her fast by the knees, 'have
pity, spare me a little, a very little work! O Christ! O Christ!'--she
rocked herself about--'Can I do nothing in the world for my King?'
Jehane stooped to take her up. 'Madame, watch over my little Fulke, when
his father is gone, and I am gone.' The Queen was crying bitterly.
'I will never leave him if you will trust me,' she began to say. Richard
put his band out. 'Let it be so. My lords, serve the Queen and me in
this matter.' The two lords bowed their heads, and the Queen tumbled to
her sobbed prayers again.
The King's eyes were almost gone; certainly he could not see out of
them. They understood his moving lips, 'A sponge, quick.'
Jehane brought it and wiped his mouth; she could not see either for
tears. He gave a strong movement, wrenched his head up from her arm,
then gave a great gasp, 'Christ! I am done!' There followed on this a
rush of blood which made all hearts stand still. They wiped it away. But
Jehane saw that with that hot blood had gone his spirit. She lifted high
her head and let them read the truth from her eyes. Then she put her
lips upon his, and so stayed, and felt him grow cold below her warmth.
The fire was out.
They buried him at Fontevrault as he had directed, at the feet of his
father. King John was there with the peers of England, Normandy, and
Anjou. The Queen was there; but not Alois (unless behind the grille),
and not King Philip, because he hated King John much worse than he ever
hated Richard. And Jehane was not there, nor Fulke of Anjou with his
governors, because they had another business to perform.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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