IV
THE JESTERS OF THE LORD
The fountain rose into the sunlight singing, broke flowering a moment, and fell with a chime of sweetness into the basin. Francis looked at it with delight. The fine mist of spray drifting from it made a little rainbow in the court-yard.
"All things praise the Lord," he said; "but the voice of our sister the water is clearest. She never ceases from her song through the hot day, and all night she sings, from evening until dawn."
He gazed at it with the serene pleasure of a child. In the shadow of the great curtain-wall his companions walked up and down, gesticulating, suddenly vivacious and then as suddenly mute. A little group separated from the others stood in the arch of the gateway overlooking Rome. Cool, dark cypresses showed here and there among the bell-towers and fortifications; and over all the broken lines of roof and belfry wandered the liquid sunlight, diversifying the colours of the tiles through a myriad gradations from dusky copper to pale gold, and ending now and again in a sudden angle of deep gloom. Yet Francis saw nothing but the water rising into the clear light.
"Beautiful thou art, and humble, and chaste, and very precious to us," he said. "Of all God's creatures thou art the most perfect, delighting in his service, praising him for the light of the sun, and the sweet air, as I praise him for thee, O sister water!"
He dipped his hand into the basin, and cool ripples were woven about his long, thin fingers.
"These also are God's creatures," he said; "the shy fish who come and go mysteriously among the stems of the lilies. They move obscurely through the dim ways, and no man wonders at them; yet none of Arthur's knights were arrayed in such golden mail."
And taking a piece of dry bread, which a beggar had given him, he broke it into small crumbs, and strewed them upon the surface of the water; and the fish came out from between the stems of the lilies, and nibbled at the crumbs as the ripples moved them; but the crust of bread Francis ate himself, and having eaten he drank a little water out of the palm of his hand, and spoke again.
"Little fish," he said, "those knights of Arthur's court, who were mailed in glittering armour, had each one his lady, whom he served in all things; and no one of them meddled with the lady of another, because as yet evil had not entered into their hearts; but they went through the world succouring the afflicted, and the innocent, and the oppressed; and doing all manner of wonderful deeds, being valiant men and strong, for the glory of God, and the great honour of the lady whose livery they wore. And the ladies, whom they served in all honourable ways, were fair and pleasant to look upon, and moreover they were well-clad, having each her golden ornaments, and jewels, and kerchiefs of lawn, and fine cloth of Ypres; yea! having all things desirable about them, soft raiment, and dainty food, and wide houses full of tapestries of Arras, with a gallery for the musicians. But because of the luxury of their lives, and the folly which ever prompts the soul of man to evil, they fell into sin, and no virtue remained in them.