ualled
his appetite for warlike fame, and that Blondel was his especial
favourite, took anxious care to receive him with all the flattering
distinctions due to one whom the King delighted to honour. Yet it was
evident that, though Blondel made suitable returns to the compliments
showered on him something too abundantly by the royal beauty, he owned
with deeper reverence and more humble gratitude the simple and graceful
welcome of Edith, whose kindly greeting appeared to him, perhaps,
sincere in proportion to its brevity and simplicity.

Both the Queen and her royal husband were aware of this distinction, and
Richard, seeing his consort somewhat piqued at the preference assigned
to his cousin, by which perhaps he himself did not feel much gratified,
said in the hearing of both, "We minstrels, Berengaria, as thou mayest
see by the bearing of our master Blondel, pay more reverence to a severe
judge like our kinswoman than to a kindly, partial friend like thyself,
who is willing to take our worth upon trust."

Edith was moved by this sarcasm of her royal kinsman, and hesitated
not to reply that, "To be a harsh and severe judge was not an attribute
proper to her alone of all the Plantagenets."

She had perhaps said more, having some touch of the temper of that
house, which, deriving their name and cognizance from the lowly broom
(PLANTA GENISTA), assumed as an emblem of humility, were perhaps one
of the proudest families that ever ruled in England; but her eye, when
kindling in her reply, suddenly caught those of the Nubian, although he
endeavoured to conceal himself behind the nobles who were present,
and she sunk upon a seat, turning so pale that Queen Berengaria deemed
herself obliged to call for water and essences, and to go through the
other ceremonies appropriate to a lady's swoon. Richard, who better
estimated Edith's strength of mind, called to Blondel to assume his seat
and commence his lay, declaring that minstrelsy was worth every other
recipe to recall a Plantagenet to life. "Sing us," he said, "that song
of the Bloody Vest, of which thou didst formerly give me the argument
ere I left Cyprus. Thou must be perfect in it by this time, or, as our
yeomen say, thy bow is broken."

The anxious eye of the minstrel, however, dwelt on Edith, and it was
not till he observed her returning colour that he obeyed the repeated
commands of the King. Then, accompanying his voice with the harp, so as
to grace, but yet not drow