Delphi Works of Ford Madox Ford (Illustrated) (9 page)

After she had gone along thus for about five minutes she overtook the Prince of India, who was going the same way on his famous horse. The Prince did not seem to see her — in fact he was engaged in looking very hard at his spur on the other side.

But the Princess did not mean to pass him like that, so she said cheerfully:

‘Good morning, Prince.’

He looked up quite astonished:

‘Good morning, your Majesty!’ he said, and he took off his cap and bowed low in his saddle, for you see he had not got his armour on — he had sent it on with his page.

The Princess did not know exactly what to say next, so for a moment they were silent, and the Prince trotted quietly by her side. At last she said:

‘Are you, too, going to look on at the tournament?’

The Prince answered:

‘I had purposed taking part in it — that, ahem! — is if your Majesty thinks I am sufficiently handsome, and if you have no other objection.’

The Princess answered quickly:

‘Oh, no objection at all. I should like it very much — that is, if you are content to run the risk of your life for such a small prize.’

But the Prince only answered:

‘Oh, your Majesty!’ and her Majesty flushed a little at his reply.

So they went on again in silence, and the road began to get fuller and fuller of people, and the Princess had her time so taken up by managing her ponies — for she was driving herself, you know — that she could not say much.

However, just as they reached the entry she said:

‘By the bye, what seat have you got?’

‘I believe they’ve given me a seat over on the south side,’ he answered.

‘Dear me, how careless of them. Why, you’ll have the sun in your face all the time you’re not tilting, and it will give you such a headache. You’d better come into the Royal Box — they’ve got an awning over that, and you’ll be able to see much better. Do come.’

So the Prince gave his horse to his page and went with the Princess and the Owl — for you must remember that the Owl was always perched on her shoulder.

The lists were very gay with horses, and knights, and heralds, and many and great were the knights that intended to tilt. They had come from the uttermost parts of the world — from Kensington, from Nubia, from — well, from everywhere, for you see they did not get the chance of fighting for a princess every day. So you may imagine how many suitors there were. Nearly a thousand came, but a good many of them were not considered handsome enough, so they either went away in a tiff or else they stayed to look on. Still it would take a good three days before the last man had tilted.

The entrance of the Princess was the signal for the music to begin, and the procession of knights filed past, each one bowing to the Princess and making his horse perform feats of skill. And then the tournament began and the knights charged each other, each in their turn. The way they managed it was for each knight to throw lots for the order of their fighting, and then they were to be divided into two bodies — the challengers and those to be challenged; and as it came to the turn of each challenger, he rode out and touched the shield of the knight on the other side with whom he wished to fight, and then the victors were to fight it out among themselves until they were all finished except one.

The Prince of India happened to be one of the challengers, and his turn did not come until the afternoon. So during the morning he sat in the Royal Box talking to the Princess or to the lords and maids in waiting.

But the Princess did not seem to enjoy the gentle and joyous passages of arms at all, for you see she was very soft-hearted, and did not like to see the knights knocked off their horses so very roughly. So, on the whole, she was not nearly so gay as the Prince, and indeed, she seemed very unhappy when he went to put on his panoply as his turn came near.

However, he soon afterwards came into the lists dressed in his full armour, and you may be sure he looked very splendid, mounted on his black horse — for his armour was entirely of silver, and his shield shone so brightly that it hurt one’s eyes to look at it, and his long plumes floated in the wind a great many yards behind him.

The spectators cheered him very much as he caracoled from one end of the lists to the other, and the Princess quite brightened up as she saw him.

‘I wonder whose shield he’s going to touch?’ she said to herself; and when she saw who it was she said:

‘Good gracious me! he’s challenged the Knight of Sarragos; why, he’s the greatest knight in the world. Oh dear, I’m sure the Prince will be beaten.’

However, the knights were now going each to his own station at different ends of the lists. The horses seemed quite as excited as the knights, and they champed their bits and foamed and pawed up the ground, while the heralds read the challenge from the Prince of India to the Knight of Sarragos.

It seemed as if the Princess was right about the strength of the Knight, for he was of enormous size, and he looked a veritable pillar of steel as he sat on his horse listening to the challenge. However, the trumpets for the charge sounded, and away went the knights straight towards each other like arrows, each one looking along his spear to see that it was aimed truly for his adversary — covering himself well with his shield. They went so fast that they could hardly be seen, and the crash when they met was louder than the loudest peal of thunder you ever heard.

The Princess shut her eyes at the sound. But she could not keep them shut, for the people were cheering very loudly. So she opened them reluctantly, and she seemed quite glad to see that the Knight of Sarragos had been thrown from his horse by the shock and was rolling in the dust. It was rather odd that she should be pleased at this, because as a rule she was sorry for the conquered knight; for myself I rather think she had wanted the Prince to win all along. Anyhow she congratulated him warmly on his success when he came back to his seat, and for the rest of the day she did not seem much interested in the tilting although some of it was very good, too.

So the first two days passed away and nothing particular happened. The Prince of India took his turn with the rest, till at last the third day came and there were only ten knights left. These, too, the Prince overcame, and it seemed as if all was over and he had gained the prize; but while the heralds were still calling for any one to come and defeat the Prince, and while every one was holding their breath in expectation, a loud blast from a trumpet sounded through the air, and at the other end of the lists a knight appeared. He was a very tall and splendid-looking knight — for his armour was of gold, and the crest on his helmet-top was a dragon carved out of a rose-red ruby of enormous size; and the point of his lance was made of one diamond, that sparkled in the sun a great deal more brightly than any dewdrop on a spring morning. And as to handsome, why he was a perfect blaze of handsomeness, so that there could be no objection to him. The only thing was, no one knew who he was, or where he came from.

So the Princess beckoned him to her, and he came and bowed low in his saddle.

‘Who are you, Sir Knight?’ she asked; ‘and where do you come from?’

‘I am the Knight of London, your Majesty.’

‘London, London; where’s that? — I’ve never heard of it.’

‘London is the capital city of England.’

‘But where
is
England?’ she asked.

‘I had thought that every one had heard of England,’ he said. ‘However, as no report of England has ever reached your ears, I will tell your Majesty. The British Islands, of which England is one, are a set of small islands off the west coast of Europe. They are composed of England, Scot—’

But here the Princess interrupted him.

‘I thank you, Sir Knight, for your information, but just now the tournament is waiting for you, and I am not very fond of geography lessons.’

The Knight bowed again, and retired to take up his place in the lists.

‘How very handsome he is!’ said the Princess to one of her maids in waiting. And the lady answered:

‘Oh, quite too handsome!’ However, by this time both the knights were in their places, and the Princess nodded to the heralds to give the signal.

‘
Laissez aller,’
they cried, which is the French for ‘Go.’

And they did go with a vengeance — they went so fast that they looked all blurred together like streaks of lightning. And when they met, it was louder than thunder, louder than the shock of avalanches, louder than — well, louder than everything you ever heard, except perhaps when some one lets the tea-tray fall down the kitchen stairs.

And when the dust cleared up, the poor Knight of India was rolling on the ground in a heap, composed of himself and his horse. But the Princess did not seem very sorry for him — so wags the world.

The Knight of London, however, was seated in his saddle as firmly as if he were part of it; and as there seemed nothing else to do, he commanded his heralds to challenge any one who should wish to dispute his right to the victory. But no one came out, for either there was no one else left, or else the knights were afraid to enter the lists against one who had overthrown so easily so doughty a knight as the Prince of India. However that might be, no one turned up, so the Knight of London was declared the victor. The shout that was raised at this declaration was not very tremendous, for most of the people liked the Prince of India, whereas they did not care much for the new-comer. But he did not seem to mind it much, and he went smilingly to the Princess. As he came before the royal presence he made his horse kneel, and advance kneeling, till he was quite close.

Then he said:

‘As no one appears to dispute my right I believe I am the victor, and in virtue of that right I claim your Majesty’s hand.’

But the Princess laughed.

‘Oh, we’ll see about that to-morrow; there’ll be plenty of time then. Meanwhile, this evening we are going to give a ball at the palace, to which all who have taken part in the tournament are invited. Of course you’ll come, won’t you?’

‘Of course I will, at your invitation, your Majesty, but—’

What he was going to say was drowned in an immoderate fit of laughter, which came from the Prince of India.

‘Ha! ha! ha!’ he laughed. ‘Can’t you see who it is you’re talking too?’ he continued, talking to the Princess.

The Princess drew herself up.

‘I believe I am talking to the Knight of London,’ she said severely.

‘The Knight of London! why he’s no more the Knight of London than I am. Why, your Majesty must be blind or mad, or both, not to see who he is. Blind’s not enough to express it. You—’

But he got no farther, for the Princess called for the police to arrest him, but before they could get at him he had fainted; for the spear of the Knight of London had gone right through his side. So the Princess told the police to lift him up gently and to carry him to his house in the town.

But the Knight of London frowned: ‘If I were you, your Majesty, I should order them to cut his head off on the first opportunity. To call you mad and blind — why I’ve never heard of such a thing.’

But the Princess said:

‘That would never do. Why, he is an independent prince, and if I hurt him it would bring on a war with India, and goodness knows what else. However, I’ll have him turned out of the kingdom as soon as he is well enough to go. However, I am going back now. Mind and be in time this evening.’

So he went to doff his armour, and she drove home once more — this time without the poor Prince, who was being carried behind in an ambulance waggon. The rest of the day passed off somehow, and the night came at last, as nights are in the habit of doing, and with the night came knights — no longer dressed in steel armour, but gorgeous in velvet and silk and evening dress. But, however gorgeous and fine they might be, the Knight of London outstripped them all, in dress, manners, looks, and everything else, and the Princess said he had the best step of any one she had ever known — and she ought to know, for she danced with him a great many times. In fact, by the end of the ball she had forgotten all about the poor Prince, for the Knight of London was a most enchanting person — although one thing did seem strange, and that was, that the Knight seemed positively afraid of the Owl; and at supper-time he actually refused to sit on the right hand of the Princess because the Owl was sitting on her right shoulder.