’"Hearken!” said Hugh. “It
is my sword,” and as he belted it on the music
ceased.
’"Over Gods, forbid that I should ever belt
blade like that,” said De Aquila. “What
does it foretell?”
’"The Gods that made it may know. Last
time it spoke was at Hastings, when I lost all my
lands. Belike it sings now that I have new lands
and am a man again,” said Hugh.
’He loosed the blade a little and drove it back
happily into the sheath, and the sword answered him
low and crooningly, as—as a woman would
speak to a man, her head on his shoulder.
’Now that was the second time in all my life
I heard this Sword sing.’...
‘Look!’ said Una. ’There’s
Mother coming down the Long Slip. What will she
say to Sir Richard? She can’t help seeing
him.’
‘And Puck can’t magic us this time,’
said Dan.
‘Are you sure?’ said Puck; and he leaned
forward and whispered to Sir Richard, who, smiling,
bowed his head.
’But what befell the sword and my brother Hugh
I will tell on another time,’ said he, rising.
‘Ohe, Swallow!’
The great horse cantered up from the far end of the
meadow, close to Mother.
They heard Mother say: ’Children, Gleason’s
old horse has broken into the meadow again. Where
did he get through?’
‘Just below Stone Bay,’ said Dan.
’He tore down simple flobs of the bank!
We noticed it just now. And we’ve caught
no end of fish. We’ve been at it all the
afternoon.’
And they honestly believed that they had. They
never noticed the Oak, Ash and Thorn leaves that Puck
had slyly thrown into their laps.
I followed my Duke ere I was a lover,
To take from England fief
and fee;
But now this game is the other way over—
But now England hath taken
me!
I had my horse, my shield and banner,
And a boy’s heart, so
whole and free;
But now I sing in another manner—
But now England hath taken
me!
As for my Father in his tower,
Asking news of my ship at
sea;
He will remember his own hour—
Tell him England hath taken
me!
As for my Mother in her bower,
That rules my Father so cunningly;
She will remember a maiden’s power—
Tell her England hath taken
me!
As for my Brother in Rouen city,
A nimble and naughty page
is he;
But he will come to suffer and pity—
Tell him England hath taken
me!
As for my little Sister waiting
In the pleasant orchards of
Normandie;
Tell her youth is the time of mating—
Tell her England hath taken
me!
As for my Comrades in camp and highway,
That lift their eyebrows scornfully;
Tell them their way is not my way—
Tell them England hath taken
me!
Kings and Princes and Barons famed,
Knights and Captains in your
degree;
Hear me a little before I am blamed—
Seeing England hath taken
me!
