So King Peter and his wife turned and came slowly down the nave, and when they were come anigh, Ralph spake aloud, and said: “Hail, King Peter of Upmeads!” And the old man stopped and said unto him: “Yea, forsooth, my name is Peter, and my business is to be a king, or a kinglet rather; and once it seemed no such hard craft; but now it all goes otherwise, and belike my craft has left me; even as it fares with a leech when folk are either too well or too ill to need his leechcraft.”
Then he looked at Ralph and at Ursula, and said: “Either my eyes are worse than I deemed yesterday, or thou art young, and a gallant knight, and she that is standing by thee is young, and fair. Ah, lad! time was when I would have bid thee come home, thou and thy sweetling, to my house with me, and abide there in ease and feastfully; but now the best rede I can give thee is to get thee gone from the land, for there is all unpeace in it. And yet, forsooth, friend, I know not where to send thee to seek for peace, since Upmeads hath failed us.”
While he spoke, and Ralph was sore moved by the sound of his voice, and his speech wherein kindness and mocking was so blended, the Dame of Upmeads came to Ralph and laid her hand on his arm, and said in a pleasant voice, for she was softhearted and soft-spoken both: “Will not the fair young warrior and his mate do so much for an old man and his wife, who have heard not tidings of their best beloved son for two years well nigh, as to come with them to their chamber, and answer a little question or two as to the parts of the world they have seen of late?”
Ralph nodded yeasay and began to move toward the porch, the Dame of Upmeads sticking close to him all the time, and King Peter following after and saying: “Yea, young man, thou mayst think the worse of me for hanging about here amongst the monks, when e’en now, for all I know, the battle is pitched in Upmeads; but Nicholas and all of them would have it so—Yea, and all my sons are away, fair sir; though of the eldest, who meseems was born with a long head, we hear that he is thriving, and hath grown great.”
As he spake they were come into the porch, and passed into the open air, where it was still light; then the Dame turned round on Ralph and caught him by the two arms and cried out and cast her arms about his neck; and when she could sunder herself a little from him, she said: “O Ralph, I deemed that I knew thy voice, but I durst not halse thee till I knew it was mine own flesh and blood, lest I should have died for grief to think it was thee when it was not. O son, how fair thou art! Now do off thy sallet that I may see thee, thy face and thy curly head.”
So did he, smiling as one who loved her, and again she fell to kissing and clipping him. Then his father came up and thrust her aside gently and embraced him also, and said: “Tell me, son, what thou art become? Thou art grown much of a man since thou stolest thyself away from me. Is there aught behind this goodly raiment of thine? And this fair lady, hath she stolen thee away from thy foes to bring thee home to us?”
Ralph laughed and said: “No less than that, father; I will tell thee all presently; but this first, that I am the captain of a goodly company of men-at-arms; and”—“Ah, son, sweetheart,” said his mother, “and thou wilt be going away from us again to seek more fame: and yet, as I look on thee thou seemest to have grown great enough already. I deem thou wilt not leave us.”
“Mother, my dear,” said Ralph, “tomorrow morn we shall go down to battle in Upmeads, and the day after I shall come hither again, and bring you back to the High House with all honour and glory. But look, mother,” and he took Ursula’s hand, “here is a daughter and a darling that I have brought back to thee, for this is my wedded wife.”
Then Ursula looked beseechingly at the Dame, who took her in her arms and clipped her and kissed her; and said, “Welcome, daughter; for I feel thy body that thou lovest me.”
Then said King Peter; “Forsooth, son, she is a sweet and dainty creature. If there be a fairer than her, I wot not; but none so fair have mine eyes looked on. Tell me whose daughter she is, and of what lineage?” And therewith he took her hand and kissed her.
But Ursula said: “I am come of no earl or baron. I am a yeoman’s daughter, and both my father and my mother are dead, and I have no nigh kin save one brother who loveth me not, and would heed it little if he never saw my face again. Now I tell thee this: that if my lord biddeth me go from him, I will depart; but for the bidding of none else will I leave him.”
King Peter laughed and said: “Never will I bid thee depart.” Then he took her hand and said: “Sweetling, fair daughter, what is thy name?” “Ursula,” she said. Said he: “Ursula, thy palms are harder than be the hands of the dainty dames of the cities, but there is no churls’ blood in thee meseemeth. What is thy kindred of the yeoman?” She said: “We be come of the Geirings of old time: it may
