“Well, well,” said Assueton, sighing deeply, “I see thou art determined to make my fatal disease thy sport; yet, by St. Andrew, it is but cruel and ungenerous of thee.”
“Grammercy, Assueton, I thought my innocent raillery could do thee no harm,” said Hepborne; “methought that ‘thou mightst be said to have no ears for such matters.’ But if thou in good truth hast really caught the fever, verily I shall not desert thee, ‘my friendship for thee shall make me listen to thy ravings;’ yea, and ‘compassion for thy disease shall make me watch the progress of its symptoms. Never fear that I shall be so little of a Christian knight as to abandon thee when thy estate is so dangerous.’ But what, I pr’ythee, my friend, hath induced this so dangerous malady?”
“Hepborne,” replied Sir John, “thy angelic sister’s magnanimity, her matchless beauty, her enchanting converse, and her sweet syren voice.” [[106]]
“Ay, ay,” said Hepborne roguishly; “so ’twas her voice, her warbles, and her virelays that gave thee the coup-de-grace? Nay, it must be soothly confessed, thou didst hang over her chair to-night in a most proper love-like fashion, as she harped it; yet her verses ‘were silly enough in conscience, methought’—and then, thou knowest, thou dost ‘rarely listen to music when love or follies are the theme.’ ”
“Hepborne,” said Assueton gravely, and with an air of entreaty, “it was not after this fashion that I did use thee in thine affliction at Norham. Think, I beseech thee, that my case is not less hopeless than thine. But who, I entreat thee, is the happy knight who is blessed by the favouring smile of thy divine sister, of the Lady Isabelle Hepborne, whom I now no longer blush to declare to be the most peerless damosel presently in existence?”
“He is a knight,” replied Hepborne, “whose peer thou shalt as rarely meet with, I trow, as thou canst encounter the make of my sister, the Lady Isabelle. He is a proper, tall, athletic, handsome man, of dark hair and olive complexion, with trim moustaches and comely beard—nay, the very man, in short, to take a woman’s eye. Though as yet but young in age, he is old in arms, and hath already done such doughty deeds as have made him renowned even in the very songs of the minstrels. Moreover, he is a beloved friend of mine, and one much approved of my father, and he shall gladly have our consent for the espousal of my sister.”
“Nay, then,” said Assueton, in the accents of utter hopelessness, “I am indeed but a lost knight, and must hie me to some barren wilderness to sigh my soul away. But lest my disease should drive me to madness, tell me, I entreat thee, the name of this most fortunate of men, that I may keep me from his path, lest, in my blind fury, I might destroy him in some ill-starred contecke, and through him wrack the happiness of the Lady Isabelle, now dearer to me than life.”
“Thou knowest him as well as thou dost thyself, my dear Assueton,” said Hepborne. “Trust me, he is one to whom thou dost wish much too well to do him harm. His name is—Sir John Assueton.”
“Nay, mock me not, Hepborne, drive me not mad with false hopes,” said Assueton; “certes, thy raillery doth now exceed the bounds that even friendship should permit.”
“Grammercy,” said Hepborne, “thou dost seem to me to be mad enough already. What! wouldst thou quarrel with me for giving thee assurance of that thou hast most panted for? [[107]]By the honour of a knight, I swear that Isabelle loves thee. ’Tis true, I heard it not from her lips; but I read it in her eyes, the which, let me tell thee, inexperienced in the science, and all unlearned in the leden of love as thou art, do ever furnish by far the best and soothest evidence on this point that the riddle woman can yield. Never doubt me but she loves thee, Assueton. She drank up the words thou didst rowne in her ear with a thirst that showed the growing fever of her soul. And now,” continued he, as he observed the happy effects of the intelligence upon the countenance of his friend—“and now, Assueton, tell me, I pr’ythee, at what hour in the morning shall I order thine esquire and cortege to be ready for thy departure?”