Instead of paying heed to the duke, Sir Richard Pendragon made the little Countess Sylvia a deep obeisance.
“This is the fairest rose in bud I have seen this moon,” he said, laying his hand across his doublet. “By this hand you have my love, pretty titmouse, and your whip and your dagger, they have it too.”
Upon this address a stern and sudden joy flamed in the eyes of the Countess Sylvia.
The English giant, who even from the low ground towered above her, table and all, was now come to stand before her. Without heeding the duke, the soldiers, or Don Luiz, he kept his eyes upon her face, as if enchained by its beauty, while all seemed so much amazed by the audacity of his behaviour in standing without arms within striking distance of her poniard, and yet to address her in such terms, that none moved a step nor dared to interrupt their intercourse.
“Sirrah Red Dragon,” said the Countess Sylvia, “I know not who you are, or whence you come, or what is your virtue, or what is your detriment; but by my two eyes I judge you to be a true man and a valiant warrior. And here I stand the mistress of this castle and the whole of its furniture; and I am prepared to enforce my resolve by power of the sword if the need arise, for I grieve to inform you that my father, his lordship’s grace, hath fallen suddenly so senile in his years, that I am called to be his nurse as well as his daughter; therefore, Sirrah Red Dragon, whoever you may be, I would have you obey my behests. And they are these. Put out those spawn in their steel corslets, put them out, I say, into the antechamber; and then do you take that fat man there, who is so gross as a pig and so round as a barrel, and do you lock him up in an iron cage, and feed him upon husks, until you receive our further advice upon the subject.”
“By the Lord Harry!” cried Sir Richard Pendragon, beaming with joy, “this is as fine loud speaking as ever I heard. By this hand! this is Charlemagne in a kirtle and mutch!”
Indeed, scarcely had the Countess Sylvia spoken to this tenor than this gigantical foreigner, who was as great in his valour as he was in his girth, fell suddenly upon the fellow that was next to him, who, to be sure, was a somewhat puny man-at-arms, picked him up by an ear and a limb, as though he were a truss of fodder, and carried him out of the room bodily. Whereupon, the other warriors, who, like men of the ranks, must have a leader before they can act, now having none—for the duke was impotent before this new affront to his authority, and Don Luiz was too fat in the wits and swollen with base living to appear better than a cypher—knew not whether to offer resistance or to submit. And as it was ever the easier to adopt the latter than the former course, and as their choice in the matter was but small, when Sir Richard Pendragon returned and took up his sword, with the flat of it he drove them before him out of the chamber, like so many hogs along a lane.
CHAPTER XVI
OF THE GRIEVOUS MISHANDLING OF HIS LORDSHIP’S GRACE
You are now to remark, gentle reader, that this beautiful creature, whom three humble courtiers of fortune were about to serve with their faith, had, in addition to a nature of truly noble valiancy, a knowledge of affairs that was highly pertinent, and a wit that was wonderful indeed for one so tender in her years.
So soon as the English giant fell to driving the duke’s men-at-arms before him like sheep, she ordered the Count of Nullepart and myself to leave the daïs. We were advised to take up a new position between the door, Don Luiz, and the duke. And when the Englishman returned with a smile of humour about his mouth, yet breathing somewhat hard with his exercise, the Countess Sylvia addressed her three servants in a low voice.