Chapter XVII: A Royal Banquet

by Mark Twain

　　Madame, seeing me pacific and unresentful, nodoubt judged that I was deceived by her excuse;for her fright dissolved away, and she was soon soimportunate to have me give an exhibition and killsomebody, that the thing grew to be embarrassing.However, to my relief she was presently interrupted bythe call to prayers. I will say this much for thenobility: that, tyrannical, murderous, rapacious, andmorally rotten as they were, they were deeply andenthusiastically religious. Nothing could divert themfrom the regular and faithful performance of the pietiesenjoined by the Church. More than once I had seena noble who had gotten his enemy at a disadvantage,stop to pray before cutting his throat; more than onceI had seen a noble, after ambushing and despatchinghis enemy, retire to the nearest wayside shrine andhumbly give thanks, without even waiting to rob thebody. There was to be nothing finer or sweeter in thelife of even Benvenuto Cellini, that rough-hewn saint,ten centuries later. All the nobles of Britain, withtheir families, attended divine service morning andnight daily, in their private chapels, and even theworst of them had family worship five or six times aday besides. The credit of this belonged entirely tothe Church. Although I was no friend to that Catholic Church, I was obliged to admit this. And often,in spite of me, I found myself saying, "What wouldthis country be without the Church?"After prayers we had dinner in a great banquetinghall which was lighted by hundreds of grease-jets, andeverything was as fine and lavish and rudely splendidas might become the royal degree of the hosts. Atthe head of the hall, on a dais, was the table of theking, queen, and their son, Prince Uwaine. Stretchingdown the hall from this, was the general table, on thefloor. At this, above the salt, sat the visiting noblesand the grown members of their families, of bothsexes, -- the resident Court, in effect -- sixty-one persons; below the salt sat minor officers of the household, with their principal subordinates: altogether ahundred and eighteen persons sitting, and about asmany liveried servants standing behind their chairs, orserving in one capacity or another. It was a very fineshow. In a gallery a band with cymbals, horns, harps,and other horrors, opened the proceedings with whatseemed to be the crude first-draft or original agony ofthe wail known to later centuries as "In the SweetBye and Bye." It was new, and ought to have beenrehearsed a little more. For some reason or other thequeen had the composer hanged, after dinner.After this music, the priest who stood behind theroyal table said a noble long grace in ostensible Latin.Then the battalion of waiters broke away from theirposts, and darted, rushed, flew, fetched and carried,and the mighty feeding began; no words anywhere,but absorbing attention to business. The rows ofchops opened and shut in vast unison, and the soundof it was like to the muffled burr of subterraneanmachinery.The havoc continued an hour and a half, and unimaginable was the destruction of substantials. Of thechief feature of the feast -- the huge wild boar that laystretched out so portly and imposing at the start --nothing was left but the semblance of a hoop-skirt;and he was but the type and symbol of what had happened to all the other dishes.With the pastries and so on, the heavy drinkingbegan -- and the talk. Gallon after gallon of wine andmead disappeared, and everybody got comfortable,then happy, then sparklingly joyous -- both sexes, --and by and by pretty noisy. Men told anecdotes thatwere terrific to hear, but nobody blushed; and whenthe nub was sprung, the assemblage let go with ahorse-laugh that shook the fortress. Ladies answeredback with historiettes that would almost have madeQueen Margaret of Navarre or even the great Elizabethof England hide behind a handkerchief, but nobodyhid here, but only laughed -- howled, you may say.In pretty much all of these dreadful stories, ecclesiasticswere the hardy heroes, but that didn't worry the chaplain any, he had his laugh with the rest; more thanthat, upon invitation he roared out a song which wasof as daring a sort as any that was sung that night.By midnight everybody was fagged out, and sorewith laughing; and, as a rule, drunk: some weepingly,some affectionately, some hilariously, some quarrelsomely, some dead and under the table. Of theladies, the worst spectacle was a lovely young duchess, whose wedding-eve this was; and indeed she wasa spectacle, sure enough. Just as she was she couldhave sat in advance for the portrait of the youngdaughter of the Regent d'Orleans, at the famous dinnerwhence she was carried, foul-mouthed, intoxicated, andhelpless, to her bed, in the lost and lamented days ofthe Ancient Regime.Suddenly, even while the priest was lifting his hands,and all conscious heads were bowed in reverent expectation of the coming blessing, there appeared underthe arch of the far-off door at the bottom of the hallan old and bent and white-haired lady, leaning upon acrutch-stick; and she lifted the stick and pointed ittoward the queen and cried out:"The wrath and curse of God fall upon you, womanwithout pity, who have slain mine innocent grandchildand made desolate this old heart that had nor chick, norfriend nor stay nor comfort in all this world but him!"Everybody crossed himself in a grisly fright, for acurse was an awful thing to those people; but thequeen rose up majestic, with the death-light in hereye, and flung back this ruthless command:"Lay hands on her! To the stake with her!"The guards left their posts to obey. It was ashame; it was a cruel thing to see. What could bedone? Sandy gave me a look; I knew she had another inspiration. I said:"Do what you choose."She was up and facing toward the queen in a moment. She indicated me, and said:"Madame, he saith this may not be. Recall thecommandment, or he will dissolve the castle and itshall vanish away like the instable fabric of a dream!"Confound it, what a crazy contract to pledge a person to! What if the queen --But my consternation subsided there, and my panicpassed off; for the queen, all in a collapse, made noshow of resistance but gave a countermanding sign andsunk into her seat. When she reached it she wassober. So were many of the others. The assemblagerose, whiffed ceremony to the winds, and rushed forthe door like a mob; overturning chairs, smashingcrockery, tugging, struggling, shouldering, crowding-- anything to get out before I should change mymind and puff the castle into the measureless dimvacancies of space. Well, well, well, they were asuperstitious lot. It is all a body can do to conceiveof it.The poor queen was so scared and humbled that shewas even afraid to hang the composer without firstconsulting me. I was very sorry for her -- indeed, anyone would have been, for she was really suffering; soI was willing to do anything that was reasonable, andhad no desire to carry things to wanton extremities. Itherefore considered the matter thoughtfully, and endedby having the musicians ordered into our presence toplay that Sweet Bye and Bye again, which they did.Then I saw that she was right, and gave her permissionto hang the whole band. This little relaxation ofsternness had a good effect upon the queen. A statesman gains little by the arbitrary exercise of iron-cladauthority upon all occasions that offer, for this woundsthe just pride of his subordinates, and thus tends toundermine his strength. A little concession, now andthen, where it can do no harm, is the wiser policy.Now that the queen was at ease in her mind oncemore, and measurably happy, her wine naturally beganto assert itself again, and it got a little the start of her.I mean it set her music going -- her silver bell of atongue. Dear me, she was a master talker. It wouldnot become me to suggest that it was pretty late andthat I was a tired man and very sleepy. I wished Ihad gone off to bed when I had the chance. Now Imust stick it out; there was no other way. So shetinkled along and along, in the otherwise profound andghostly hush of the sleeping castle, until by and bythere came, as if from deep down under us, a far-awaysound, as of a muffled shriek -- with an expression ofagony about it that made my flesh crawl. The queenstopped, and her eyes lighted with pleasure; she tiltedher graceful head as a bird does when it listens. Thesound bored its way up through the stillness again."What is it?" I said."It is truly a stubborn soul, and endureth long. Itis many hours now.""Endureth what?""The rack. Come -- ye shall see a blithe sight.An he yield not his secret now, ye shall see him tornasunder."What a silky smooth hellion she was; and so composed and serene, when the cords all down my legswere hurting in sympathy with that man's pain. Conducted by mailed guards bearing flaring torches, wetramped along echoing corridors, and down stone stairways dank and dripping, and smelling of mould andages of imprisoned night -- a chill, uncanny journeyand a long one, and not made the shorter or thecheerier by the sorceress's talk, which was about thissufferer and his crime. He had been accused by ananonymous informer, of having killed a stag in theroyal preserves. I said:"Anonymous testimony isn't just the right thing,your Highness. It were fairer to confront the accusedwith the accuser.""I had not thought of that, it being but of smallconsequence. But an I would, I could not, for thatthe accuser came masked by night, and told theforester, and straightway got him hence again, and sothe forester knoweth him not.""Then is this Unknown the only person who sawthe stag killed?""Marry, no man saw the killing, but this Unknownsaw this hardy wretch near to the spot where the staglay, and came with right loyal zeal and betrayed himto the forester.""So the Unknown was near the dead stag, too?Isn't it just possible that he did the killing himself?His loyal zeal -- in a mask -- looks just a shade suspicious. But what is your highness's idea for rackingthe prisoner? Where is the profit?""He will not confess, else; and then were his soullost. For his crime his life is forfeited by the law --and of a surety will I see that he payeth it! -- but itwere peril to my own soul to let him die unconfessedand unabsolved. Nay, I were a fool to fling me intohell for his accommodation.""But, your Highness, suppose he has nothing toconfess?""As to that, we shall see, anon. An I rack him todeath and he confess not, it will peradventure showthat he had indeed naught to confess -- ye will grantthat that is sooth? Then shall I not be damned foran unconfessed man that had naught to confess --wherefore, I shall be safe."It was the stubborn unreasoning of the time. It wasuseless to argue with her. Arguments have no chanceagainst petrified training; they wear it as little as thewaves wear a cliff. And her training was everybody's.The brightest intellect in the land would not have beenable to see that her position was defective.As we entered the rack-cell I caught a picture thatwill not go from me; I wish it would. A native younggiant of thirty or thereabouts lay stretched upon theframe on his back, with his wrists and ankles tied toropes which led over windlasses at either end. Therewas no color in him; his features were contorted andset, and sweat-drops stood upon his forehead. Apriest bent over him on each side; the executionerstood by; guards were on duty; smoking torchesstood in sockets along the walls; in a corner croucheda poor young creature, her face drawn with anguish,a half-wild and hunted look in her eyes, and in her laplay a little child asleep. Just as we stepped across thethreshold the executioner gave his machine a slightturn, which wrung a cry from both the prisoner andthe woman; but I shouted, and the executioner releasedthe strain without waiting to see who spoke. I couldnot let this horror go on; it would have killed me tosee it. I asked the queen to let me clear the placeand speak to the prisoner privately; and when she wasgoing to object I spoke in a low voice and said I didnot want to make a scene before her servants, but Imust have my way; for I was King Arthur's representative, and was speaking in his name. She saw shehad to yield. I asked her to indorse me to these people, and then leave me. It was not pleasant for her,but she took the pill; and even went further than Iwas meaning to require. I only wanted the backing ofher own authority; but she said:"Ye will do in all things as this lord shall command.It is The Boss."It was certainly a good word to conjure with: youcould see it by the squirming of these rats. Thequeen's guards fell into line, and she and they marchedaway, with their torch-bearers, and woke the echoes ofthe cavernous tunnels with the measured beat of theirretreating footfalls. I had the prisoner taken fromthe rack and placed upon his bed, and medicamentsapplied to his hurts, and wine given him to drink.The woman crept near and looked on, eagerly, lovingly, but timorously, -- like one who fears a repulse;indeed, she tried furtively to touch the man's forehead,and jumped back, the picture of fright, when I turnedunconsciously toward her. It was pitiful to see."Lord," I said, "stroke him, lass, if you want to.Do anything you're a mind to; don't mind me."Why, her eyes were as grateful as an animal's, whenyou do it a kindness that it understands. The babywas out of her way and she had her cheek against theman's in a minute. and her hands fondling his hair,and her happy tears running down. The man revivedand caressed his wife with his eyes, which was all hecould do. I judged I might clear the den, now, and Idid; cleared it of all but the family and myself. ThenI said:"Now, my friend, tell me your side of this matter;I know the other side."The man moved his head in sign of refusal. Butthe woman looked pleased -- as it seemed to me --pleased with my suggestion. I went on --"You know of me?""Yes. All do, in Arthur's realms.""If my reputation has come to you right andstraight, you should not be afraid to speak."The woman broke in, eagerly:"Ah, fair my lord, do thou persuade him! Thoucanst an thou wilt. Ah, he suffereth so; and it is forme -- for me! And how can I bear it? I would Imight see him die -- a sweet, swift death; oh, myHugo, I cannot bear this one!"And she fell to sobbing and grovelling about myfeet, and still imploring. Imploring what? The man'sdeath? I could not quite get the bearings of the thing.But Hugo interrupted her and said:"Peace! Ye wit not what ye ask. Shall I starvewhom I love, to win a gentle death? I wend thouknewest me better.""Well," I said, "I can't quite make this out. Itis a puzzle. Now --""Ah, dear my lord, an ye will but persuade him!Consider how these his tortures wound me! Oh, andhe will not speak! -- whereas, the healing, the solacethat lie in a blessed swift death --""What are you maundering about? He's going outfrom here a free man and whole -- he's not going todie."The man's white face lit up, and the woman flungherself at me in a most surprising explosion of joy,and cried out:"He is saved! -- for it is the king's word by themouth of the king's servant -- Arthur, the king whoseword is gold!""Well, then you do believe I can be trusted, afterall. Why didn't you before?""Who doubted? Not I, indeed; and not she.""Well, why wouldn't you tell me your story, then?""Ye had made no promise; else had it been otherwise.""I see, I see.... And yet I believe I don't quitesee, after all. You stood the torture and refused toconfess; which shows plain enough to even the dullest understanding that you had nothing to confess --""I, my lord? How so? It was I that killed thedeer!""You did? Oh, dear, this is the most mixed-upbusiness that ever --""Dear lord, I begged him on my knees to confess,but --""You did! It gets thicker and thicker. What didyou want him to do that for?""Sith it would bring him a quick death and savehim all this cruel pain.""Well -- yes, there is reason in that. But he didn'twant the quick death.""He? Why, of a surety he did.""Well, then, why in the world didn't he confess?""Ah, sweet sir, and leave my wife and chick without bread and shelter?""Oh, heart of gold, now I see it! The bitter lawtakes the convicted man's estate and beggars his widowand his orphans. They could torture you to death,but without conviction or confession they could notrob your wife and baby. You stood by them like aman; and you -- true wife and the woman that youare -- you would have bought him release from tortureat cost to yourself of slow starvation and death -- well,it humbles a body to think what your sex can do whenit comes to self-sacrifice. I'll book you both for mycolony; you'll like it there; it's a Factory where I'mgoing to turn groping and grubbing automata intomen."