Rienzi [199]
brigands might be seen, driving before them the cattle which they had just collected by predatory excursions. Sometimes a knot of dissolute women stood - chattering, scolding, gesticulating - collected round groups of wild shagged Northmen, who, despite the bright purity of the summer-noon, were already engaged in deep potations. Oaths, and laughter, and drunken merriment, and fierce brawl, rang from side to side; and ever and anon some hasty conflict with drawn knives was begun and finished by the fiery and savage bravoes of Calabria or the Apennines, before the very eyes and almost in the very path of the troop. Tumblers, and mountebanks, and jugglers, and Jew pedlers, were exhibiting their tricks or their wares at every interval, apparently well inured to the lawless and turbulent market in which they exercised their several callings. Despite the protection of the horsemen who accompanied them, the prisoners were not allowed to pass without molestation. Groups of urchins, squalid, fierce, and ragged, seemed to start from the ground, and surrounded their horses like swarms of bees, uttering the most discordant cries; and, with the gestures of savages, rather demanding than beseeching money, which, when granted, seemed only to render them more insatiable. While, sometimes mingled with the rest, were seen the bright eyes and olive cheek, and half-pleading, half-laughing smile of girls, whose extreme youth, scarce emerged from childhood, rendered doubly striking their utter and unredeemed abandonment.
"You did not exaggerate the decorum of the Grand Company!" cried the Knight, gravely, to his new acquaintance.
"Signor," replied the other, "you must not judge of the kernel by the shell. We are scarcely yet arrived at the camp. These are the outskirts, occupied rather by the rabble than the soldiers. Twenty thousand men from the sink, it must be owned, of every town in Italy, follow the camp, to fight if necessary, but rather for plunder, and for forage: - such you now behold. Presently you will see those of another stamp."
The Knight's heart swelled high. "And to such men is Italy given up!" thought he. His revery was broken by a loud burst of applause from some convivialists hard by. He turned, and under a long tent, and round a board covered with wine and viands, sate some thirty or forty bravoes. A ragged minstrel, or jongleur, with an immense beard and mustachios, was tuning, with no inconsiderable skill, a lute which had accompanied him in all his wanderings - and suddenly changing its notes into a wild and warlike melody, he commenced in a loud and deep voice the following song: -
The Praise of the Grand Company.
1.
Ho, dark one from the golden South, - Ho, fair one from the North; Ho, coat of mail and spear of sheen - Ho, wherefore ride ye forth? "We come from mount, we come from cave, We come across the sea, In long array, in bright array, To Montreal's Companie." Oh, the merry, merry band. Light heart, and heavy hand - Oh, the Lances of the Free!
2.
Ho, Princes of the castled height - Ho, Burghers of the town; Apulia's strength, Romagna's pride, And Tusca's old renown! Why quail ye thus? why pale ye thus? What spectre do ye see? "The blood-red flag, and trampling march, Of Montreal's Companie." Oh, the sunshine of your life - Oh, the thunders of your strife! Wild Lances of the Free!
3.
Ho, scutcheons o'er the vaulted tomb Where Norman valour sleeps, Why shake ye so? why quake ye so! What wind the trophy sweeps? "We shake without a breath - below, The dead are stirred to see, The Norman's fame revived again In Montreal's Companie." Since Roger won his crown, Who hath equalled your renown, Brave Lances of the Free?
4.
Ho, ye who seek to win a name, Where deeds are bravest done - Ho, ye who wish to pile a heap, Where gold is lightest won; Ho, ye who loathe the stagnant life, Or shun the law's decree, Belt on the brand, and spur the steed, To Montreal's Companie. And the maid shall share her
"You did not exaggerate the decorum of the Grand Company!" cried the Knight, gravely, to his new acquaintance.
"Signor," replied the other, "you must not judge of the kernel by the shell. We are scarcely yet arrived at the camp. These are the outskirts, occupied rather by the rabble than the soldiers. Twenty thousand men from the sink, it must be owned, of every town in Italy, follow the camp, to fight if necessary, but rather for plunder, and for forage: - such you now behold. Presently you will see those of another stamp."
The Knight's heart swelled high. "And to such men is Italy given up!" thought he. His revery was broken by a loud burst of applause from some convivialists hard by. He turned, and under a long tent, and round a board covered with wine and viands, sate some thirty or forty bravoes. A ragged minstrel, or jongleur, with an immense beard and mustachios, was tuning, with no inconsiderable skill, a lute which had accompanied him in all his wanderings - and suddenly changing its notes into a wild and warlike melody, he commenced in a loud and deep voice the following song: -
The Praise of the Grand Company.
1.
Ho, dark one from the golden South, - Ho, fair one from the North; Ho, coat of mail and spear of sheen - Ho, wherefore ride ye forth? "We come from mount, we come from cave, We come across the sea, In long array, in bright array, To Montreal's Companie." Oh, the merry, merry band. Light heart, and heavy hand - Oh, the Lances of the Free!
2.
Ho, Princes of the castled height - Ho, Burghers of the town; Apulia's strength, Romagna's pride, And Tusca's old renown! Why quail ye thus? why pale ye thus? What spectre do ye see? "The blood-red flag, and trampling march, Of Montreal's Companie." Oh, the sunshine of your life - Oh, the thunders of your strife! Wild Lances of the Free!
3.
Ho, scutcheons o'er the vaulted tomb Where Norman valour sleeps, Why shake ye so? why quake ye so! What wind the trophy sweeps? "We shake without a breath - below, The dead are stirred to see, The Norman's fame revived again In Montreal's Companie." Since Roger won his crown, Who hath equalled your renown, Brave Lances of the Free?
4.
Ho, ye who seek to win a name, Where deeds are bravest done - Ho, ye who wish to pile a heap, Where gold is lightest won; Ho, ye who loathe the stagnant life, Or shun the law's decree, Belt on the brand, and spur the steed, To Montreal's Companie. And the maid shall share her