for Christ’s sake help a poor captive out of prison.” But the guests were hard-hearted, and answered cruelly, especially the abbots and priors, who had been deceived by Sir John’s false tales. So rude was their reply that he grew angry.
“Oh,” said he, “that is all the answer I am to have to my prayer! Now I see that I have no friends. Cursed be he that ever does good to abbot or prior!”
Adam Spencer, busied about the removal of the tablecloth, looked anxiously at Gamelyn, and saw how angry he was growing. He thought little more of his service, but, making an excuse[40] to go to the pantry, brought two good oak sticks, and put them beside the hall door. Then he winked at Gamelyn, who with a sudden shout flung off his chains, rushed to the hall door, took a barrel and whirled his weapon as lightly as if it had been a holy water sprinkler. There was a dreadful mess in the hall, for the fat Churchmen tried to escape, but Gamelyn was able to scatter the prelates. Now he had no pity on these cruel Churchmen, as they had been without pity for him; he knocked them over, battered them, broke their arms and legs, and brought a terrible fear among them; and during this time Adam Spencer kept the door so that none might escape. He called aloud to Gamelyn to respect the sanctity of men of Holy Church and shed no blood[41], but if he should by chance break arms and legs there would be no sacrilege, because no blood would be shed.
Thus Gamelyn did what he wanted, laying hands on monks and friars, and sent them home wounded, while some of them muttered: “We were better at home, with just bread and water, than here where we have had such a sorry feast!”
Then Gamelyn turned his attention to his false brother, who had been unable to escape. He caught him by the neck, broke his backbone with one blow, and chained, sitting, to the post at which he had stood.
“Sit there, brother, and cool thy blood,” said Gamelyn, as he and Adam sat down to a feast, at which the servants served them eagerly, partly from love and partly from fear.
Now the sheriff happened to be only five miles away, and soon heard the news of this disturbance, and how Gamelyn and Adam had broken the peace. As his duty was, he determined to arrest the lawbreakers. Twenty-four of his best men were sent to the castle to arrest Gamelyn and his steward; but the new porter, loyal to Gamelyn, denied them entrance till he knew their errand; when they refused to tell it, he sent a servant to wake his master and warn him that the sheriff’s men stood before the gate.
Then answered Gamelyn: “Good porter, go; delay my foes with fair speech at the gate till I have invented some plan. If I survive this incident, I will requite you truth and loyalty. Adam,” said he then to his steward, “Our enemies are on us, and we have no friend – the sheriff’s men surround us, we must go where our safety calls us.”
Adam replied: “Go where you want to go, I’ll follow you to the last or die abandoned. But this proud sheriff will flee soon.”
As Gamelyn and Adam looked round for weapons, the former saw a stout post used for propping up the shafts; this he seized, and ran out of the back gate, followed by Adam with another staff. They caught the sheriff’s twenty four bold men from behind, and when Gamelyn had overthrown three, and Adam two, the rest fled.
“What!” said Adam as they were running away. “Drink a cup of my good wine! I am lord here.”
“No,” they shouted back; “such wine as yours scatters a man’s brains far too well.”
This little fight was hardly ended before the sheriff came in person with a greater group of soldiers. Gamelyn knew not what to do, but Adam again had a plan ready. “Let us stay no longer, but go to the greenwood: there we shall at least be at liberty.”
The advice suited Gamelyn, and each drank a draught of wine, mounted his steed, and lightly rode away, leaving the empty nest for the sheriff. However, when his party arrived, one of the officers dismounted, entered the hall, and found Sir John nearly dying. He released him, and summoned a doctor who healed his grievous wound, and thus enabled him to do more mischief.
Meanwhile, Adam wandered with Gamelyn in the greenwood, and found it very hard work, with little food. He complained aloud to his young lord: “Weren’t we better at home? I do not like this wood, there are too many trees, but no food or drink, or place to rest.”
“Ah! Adam,” answered Gamelyn, “Cheer yourself! A good man’s son often feels bitter woe at home!”
As they spoke sadly together Gamelyn heard men’s voices nearby, and, looking through the bushes, saw about a hundred and forty young men, sitting round a plentiful feast, spread on the green grass. He rejoiced greatly. Adam longed for a good meal, too, for they had found little to eat since they came to the greenwood. At that moment the master-outlaw saw them in the bushes, and told his men to bring to him these new guests whom God had sent: maybe, he said, there were others besides these two.
The seven bold youths went to fulfil the task, and cried to the two newcomers: “Do not move and hand us your bows and arrows!”
“Much sorrow may he bring who stops in front of you,” cried Gamelyn. “Why, with five more you would be only twelve, and I could fight you all.”
When the outlaws saw how boldly he behaved, they changed their tone, and said calmly: “Come to our master, and tell him of your trouble.”
“Who is your master?” asked Gamelyn. “He is the crowned king of the outlaws,” said they; and the two strangers were led away to the chief.
The master-outlaw, sitting on a wooden throne, with a crown of oak-leaves on his head, asked them their business, and Gamelyn replied: “He must walk in the wood who may not walk in the town. We are hungry and tired, and will only shoot the deer for food, for we are in great danger.”
The outlaw leader had pity on their distress, and gave them food; and as they ate ravenously the outlaws whispered one to another: “This is Gamelyn!” “This is Gamelyn!” Understanding all the evils that had befallen him, their leader soon made Gamelyn his second in command; and when, after three weeks, the outlaw king was pardoned and allowed to return home, Gamelyn was chosen to succeed him and was crowned king of the outlaws. So he lived merrily in the forest, and cared not about the world outside.
Meanwhile, the treacherous Sir John had recovered, and became a sheriff. He accused his brother of felony as soon as he could. As Gamelyn did not appear to answer to that accusation, he was proclaimed an outlaw, and a price was set for his life. His yeomen and vassals were grieved at this, for they feared the cruelty of the wicked sheriff; and therefore they sent messengers to Gamelyn to tell him the bad news. The youth was as furious as they had expected, and he promised to come and teach Sir John in his hall and protect his own tenants.
It was certainly very daring to go into the county where his brother was sheriff, but he rode boldly into the hall, with his hood thrown back, so that all might recognise him, and cried aloud: “God save all you here present! But, your broken-backed sheriff, evil he may be! Why has he done me such wrong and disgrace as to accuse me and proclaim me an outlaw?”
Sir John did not hesitate to use his legal powers. Seeing that his brother was quite alone, he imediately had him arrested and cast into prison, where, as was his intention, only death could release him.
All these years the second brother, Otho, had been living quietly on his own lands and taken care of the quarrels of the two others; but now, when news came to him of Sir John’s deadly hatred to their youngest brother, and Gamelyn’s trouble, he was deeply grieved, roused himself from his peaceful life, and rode to see if he could help his brother.
make an excuse – находить причину
shed no blood – не проливать крови (
