[V.]
Sir Ro of Staley Hall.
THERE was a noble gathering in the great banqueting room of Staley Hall, on that memorable morning when Sir Ro or Ralph de Stavelegh entertained his guests for the last time ere he set sail for the Holy Land. The message of war had been sent through all merrie England, and many of the Cheshire knights were leaving their homes, their wide and pleasant meadows, and their dear wives and children, to engage in the stern conflict of the great Crusade. Sir Ro, of Staley, was one of the first to offer his sword in the holy cause. He was a brave knight, born of a war-like ancestry, and desirous above all things to risk his life in so sacred a war. And now he had called together his friends and neighbours, that they might feast once more in the old banqueting hall, and pledge themselves as true and leal comrades before the knight said farewell.
There were many brave knights and squires, many noble dames and fair maidens, seated about that hospitable board. But the lovliest of all women gathered there was the young lady of Staley, and the handsomest of men in that goodly company was the warrior knight, Sir Ro.
The feasting went on well into the night. In the minstrels’ gallery there were harpers who harped of war, and bards who sang of heroes’ deeds and victory. The music was wild and glorious; it lured men to war, it breathed the spirit of strife, it lured the love of maidens to the man who wielded axe and sword. When the music ceased there were speeches made by the knights, and good wishes expressed, and the words of friendship passed.
Then the Knight of Staley rose to bid farewell. He spoke of the true comradeship between his guests and himself. He begged them to see that no enemy laid waste his fair domain while he was distant at the war. By every tie of friendship, he prayed them to protect well his dear lady should ever the need arise. Then, turning to his wife, he asked that she should hand her wedding ring to him, and the lady complied. Holding up the ring, and in sight of all the guests, Sir Ro next snapped the golden circlet in twain, and, restoring one half to his spouse, he placed the other against his heart, swearing by that token to be a true lover and husband until death. On her part, the lady made a like vow, and thus, before all that noble company, they pledged again eternal troth.
On the morrow, with many bitter tears at the pain of the parting, with many tender kisses and protestations of fidelity, Sir Ro and his lady parted—the lady to her lonely bower, the knight to his ship, his journey, and the war.