So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love’s shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie withered,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?
—Thomas Moore.
THE ARCHERY CONTEST
“The yeomen and commons,” said De Bracy, “must not be dismissed discontented for lack of their share in the sports.”
“The day,” said Waldemar, “is not yet very far spent—let the archers shoot a few rounds at the target, and the prize be adjudged. This will be an abundant fulfilment of the Prince’s promises, so far as this herd of Saxon serfs is concerned.”
Sir Walter Scott
“I thank thee, Waldemar,” said Prince John; “thou remindest me, too, that I have a debt to pay to that insolent peasant who yesterday insulted my person. The banquet also shall go forward to-night as we proposed. Were this my last hour of power, it should be an hour sacred to revenge and to pleasure—let new cares come with to-morrow’s new day.”
The sound of the trumpet soon recalled those spectators who had already begun to leave the field; and proclamation was made that the Prince, suddenly called by high public duties, was obliged to discontinue the entertainments of to-morrow’s festival; nevertheless, unwilling that so many good yeomen should depart without a trial of skill, he was pleased to appoint that the archery competition intended for to-morrow should take place at once. To the best archer a prize was to be awarded,—a bugle-horn, mounted with silver, and a silken baldric, richly ornamented with a medallion of St. Hubert, the patron of woodland sport.
More than thirty yeomen at first presented themselves as competitors, several of whom were rangers and underkeepers in the royal forests. When, however, the archers understood with whom they were to be matched, upwards of twenty withdrew from the contest, unwilling to encounter the dishonor of almost certain defeat. The diminished list of competitors, however, still amounted to eight. Prince John, before the contest began, stepped from his royal seat to view more nearly the persons of these chosen yeomen, several of whom wore the royal livery. Having satisfied his curiosity, he looked for the object of his resentment, whom he observed standing on the same spot, and with the same composed countenance which he had shown upon the preceding day.
“Fellow,” said Prince John, “I guessed by thy insolent babble thou wert no true lover of the longbow, and I see thou darest not adventure thy skill among such merry men as stand yonder.”