"Well, my lord," said Prezmyra, "doth thy wisdom bless my resolve?"

"Whate'er it be, yes, because it is thime, O Queen."

"Whate'er it be!" she cried. "Dost hang in doubt on't? What else, but seek audience with the King as my first care in the morning. Have I not my lord's bidding so far?"

"And if thy zeal outrun his bidding in one particular?" said Gro.

"Why, just!" said she. "And if I bring thee not word ere tomorrow's noon that order is given for Demonland, and my Lord Corund named his general for that sailing, ay, and letters sealed for his straight recall from Orpish-"

"Hist!" said Gro. "Steps i' the court."

They turned towards the archway, Prezmyra singing under her breath:

Nor he that still his Mistresse payes. For she is thrall'd therefore; Nor he that payes not, for he sayes Within, shee's worth no more. Is there then no kinde of men Whom I may freely prove? I will vent that humour then In mine own selfe love.

Corinius met them in the gateway, coming from the banquet house. He halted full in their path to peer closely through the darkness at Prezmyra, so that she felt the heat of his breath, heavy with wine. It was too dark to know faces but he knew her by her stature and bearing.

"Cry thee mercy, madam," he said. "Methought an instant 'twas-but no matter. Your best of rest."

So saying he made way for her with a deep obeisance, jostling roughly against Gro with the same motion. Gro, little minded for a quarrel, gave him the wall, and followed Prezmyra into the inner court.

The Lord Corinius sat him down on the nearest of the benches, leaned his stalwart back luxuriously upon the cushions and there rested, thripping his fingers and singing to himself:

What an Ass is he

Waits a woman's leisure

For a minute's pleasure.

And perhaps may be

Gull'd at last, and lose her;

What an ass is he?

What need I to care

For a woman's favour?

If another have her.

Why should I despair?

When for gold and labour

I can have my share.

If I chance to see

One that's brown, I love her.

Till I see another

Browner is than she;

For I am a lover

Of my liberty.

A rustle behind him on his left made him turn his head. A figure stole out of the deep shadow of the buttress nearest the archway. He leapt up and was first in the gate, blocking it with open arms. "Ah," he cried, "so titmice roost i' the shade, ha? What ransom shall I have of thee for making me keep empty tryst last night? Ay, and wast creeping hence to make me a fool once more the night-long and I had not caught thee."

The lady laughed. "Last might my father kept me by him; and to-night, my lord, wouldst thou not have been fitly served for thy shameless ditty? Is that a sweet serenade for ladies' ears? Sing it again, to thy liberty, and show thyself an ass."

"Thou art very bold to provoke me, madam, with not even a star to be thy witness if I quite thee for't. These flamboys are old roisterers, grown gray in scenes of riot. They shall not blab."

"Nay, if thou speakest in wine I'm gone, my lord;" and as he took a step towards her, "and I return not, here or otherwise, but fling thee off for ever," she said. "I will not be entreated like a serving-maid. I have borne too long with thy forced soldier fashions."

Corimius caught his arms about her, lifting her against his broad chest so that her toes scarce kept footing on the ground. "O Sriva," he said thickly, bending his face to hers, "dost think to light so great a fire, and after walk through it and not be scorched thereat?"

Her arms were close pinioned at her sides in that strong embrace. She seemed to swoon, as a lily swooning in the flaming noon-day. Corinius bent down his face and kissed her fiercely, saying, "By all the sweets that ever darkness tasted, thou art mime to-night."

"To-morrow," she said, as if stifled.

But Corinius said, "My dearest happiness, to-night."

"My dear lord," said the Lady Sriva softly, "sith thou hast made such a conquest of my love, be not a harsh and forward conqueror. I swear to thee by all the dreadful powers that clip the earth about, there's matter in it I should to my father this night, nay more, now on the instant. 'Twas this only made me avoid thee but now: this, and no light conceit to vex thee."

"He can attend our pleasure," said Corinius. "'Tis an old man, and oft sitteth late at his book."

"How? and thou leftest him carousing?" said she. "There's that I must impart to him ere the wine quite o'erflow his wits. Even this delay, how sweet soe'er to us, is dangerous."

But Corinius said, "I will not let thee go."

"Well," said she, "be a beast, then. But know I'll cry on a rescue shall make all Carcë run to find us, and my brothers, ay, and Laxus, if he be a man, shall deal thee bitter payment for thy violence toward me. But if thou wilt be thy noble self, and respect my love with friendship, let me go. And if thou come secretly to my chamber door, an hour past midnight; I think thou'lt find no bolt to it."

"Ha, thou swearest it?" he said.

She answered, "Else may steep destruction swallow me quick."

"Am hour past midnight. And until then 'tis a year in my desires," said he.

"There spoke my noble lover," said Sriva, giving him her mouth once more. And swiftly she fared through the shadowy archway and across the court to where in the north gallery her father Corsus had his chamber.

The Lord Corinius went back to his seat, and there reclined for a space in slothful ease, humming to an old tune:

My Mistris is a shittle-cock.

Compos'd of Cork and feather;

Each Battledore sets on her dock.

And bumps her on the leather.

But cast her off which way you Will.

She will requoile to another still-

Fa, la, la, la, la, la.

He stretched his arms and yawned. "Well, Laxus, my chubfaced meacock, this medicine hath eased powerfully my discontent. 'Tis but fair, sith I must miss my crown, that I should have thy mistress. And to say true, seeing how base, little, and ordinary a kingdom is this of Pixyland, and what a delectable sweet wagtail this Sriva, whom besides I have these two years past ne'er looked on but my mouth watered: why, I may hold me part paid for the nonce; until I weary of her.

Love is all my life.

For it keeps me doing:

Yet my love and wooing

Is not for a Wife-

"Am hour past midnight, ha? What wine's best for lovers? I'll go drink a stoup, and so to dice with some of these lads to pass away the time till then."

XVI - THE LADY SRIVA'S EMBASSAGE

How the Duke Corsus thought it proper to commit an errand of state unto his daughter: and how she prospered therein.

SRIVA fared swiftly to her father's closet, and finding her lady mother sewing in her chair, nodding towards sleep, two candles at her left and right, she said, "My lady mother, there's a queen's crown waits the plucking. 'Twill drop into the foreign woman's lap if thou and my father bestir you not. Where is he? Still i' the banquet house? Thou or I must fetch him on the instant."

"Fie!" cried Zenambria. "How thou'st startled me! Fall somewhat into a slower speech, my girl. With such wild sudden talk I know not what thou meanest nor what's the matter."