THE TRUCE OF GOD
The Truce of God
I
Now the day of the birth of our Lord dawned that year grey and dreary,
and a Saturday. But, despite the weather, in the town at the foot of the
hill there was rejoicing, as befitted so great a festival. The day
before a fat steer had been driven to the public square and there
dressed and trussed for the roasting. The light of morning falling on
his carcass revealed around it great heaps of fruits and vegetables. For
the year had been prosperous.
But the young overlord sulked in his castle at the cliff top, and bit
his nails. From Thursday evening of each week to the morning of Monday,
Mother Church had decreed peace, a Truce of God. Three full days out of
each week his men-at-arms polished their weapons and grew fat. Three
full days out of each week his grudge against his cousin, Philip of the
Black Beard, must feed on itself.
His dark mood irritated the Bishop of Tours, who had come to speak of
certain scandalous things which had come to his ears. Charles heard him
through.
"She took refuge with him," he said violently, when the Bishop had
finished. "She knew what hate there was between us, yet she took refuge
with him."
"The question is," said the Bishop mildly, "why she should have been
driven to refuge. A gentle lady, a faithful wife--"
"Deus!" The young _seigneur_ clapped a fist on the table. "You know well
the reason. A barren woman!"
"She had borne you a daughter."
But Charles was far gone in rage and out of hand. The Bishop took his
offended ears to bed, and left him to sit alone by the dying fire, with
bitterness for company.
Came into the courtyard at midnight the Christmas singers from the town;
the blacksmith rolling a great bass, the crockery-seller who sang
falsetto, and a fool of the village who had slept overnight in a manger
on the holy eve a year before and had brought from it, not wit, but a
voice from Heaven. A miracle of miracles.
1104709706
I
Now the day of the birth of our Lord dawned that year grey and dreary,
and a Saturday. But, despite the weather, in the town at the foot of the
hill there was rejoicing, as befitted so great a festival. The day
before a fat steer had been driven to the public square and there
dressed and trussed for the roasting. The light of morning falling on
his carcass revealed around it great heaps of fruits and vegetables. For
the year had been prosperous.
But the young overlord sulked in his castle at the cliff top, and bit
his nails. From Thursday evening of each week to the morning of Monday,
Mother Church had decreed peace, a Truce of God. Three full days out of
each week his men-at-arms polished their weapons and grew fat. Three
full days out of each week his grudge against his cousin, Philip of the
Black Beard, must feed on itself.
His dark mood irritated the Bishop of Tours, who had come to speak of
certain scandalous things which had come to his ears. Charles heard him
through.
"She took refuge with him," he said violently, when the Bishop had
finished. "She knew what hate there was between us, yet she took refuge
with him."
"The question is," said the Bishop mildly, "why she should have been
driven to refuge. A gentle lady, a faithful wife--"
"Deus!" The young _seigneur_ clapped a fist on the table. "You know well
the reason. A barren woman!"
"She had borne you a daughter."
But Charles was far gone in rage and out of hand. The Bishop took his
offended ears to bed, and left him to sit alone by the dying fire, with
bitterness for company.
Came into the courtyard at midnight the Christmas singers from the town;
the blacksmith rolling a great bass, the crockery-seller who sang
falsetto, and a fool of the village who had slept overnight in a manger
on the holy eve a year before and had brought from it, not wit, but a
voice from Heaven. A miracle of miracles.
THE TRUCE OF GOD
The Truce of God
I
Now the day of the birth of our Lord dawned that year grey and dreary,
and a Saturday. But, despite the weather, in the town at the foot of the
hill there was rejoicing, as befitted so great a festival. The day
before a fat steer had been driven to the public square and there
dressed and trussed for the roasting. The light of morning falling on
his carcass revealed around it great heaps of fruits and vegetables. For
the year had been prosperous.
But the young overlord sulked in his castle at the cliff top, and bit
his nails. From Thursday evening of each week to the morning of Monday,
Mother Church had decreed peace, a Truce of God. Three full days out of
each week his men-at-arms polished their weapons and grew fat. Three
full days out of each week his grudge against his cousin, Philip of the
Black Beard, must feed on itself.
His dark mood irritated the Bishop of Tours, who had come to speak of
certain scandalous things which had come to his ears. Charles heard him
through.
"She took refuge with him," he said violently, when the Bishop had
finished. "She knew what hate there was between us, yet she took refuge
with him."
"The question is," said the Bishop mildly, "why she should have been
driven to refuge. A gentle lady, a faithful wife--"
"Deus!" The young _seigneur_ clapped a fist on the table. "You know well
the reason. A barren woman!"
"She had borne you a daughter."
But Charles was far gone in rage and out of hand. The Bishop took his
offended ears to bed, and left him to sit alone by the dying fire, with
bitterness for company.
Came into the courtyard at midnight the Christmas singers from the town;
the blacksmith rolling a great bass, the crockery-seller who sang
falsetto, and a fool of the village who had slept overnight in a manger
on the holy eve a year before and had brought from it, not wit, but a
voice from Heaven. A miracle of miracles.
I
Now the day of the birth of our Lord dawned that year grey and dreary,
and a Saturday. But, despite the weather, in the town at the foot of the
hill there was rejoicing, as befitted so great a festival. The day
before a fat steer had been driven to the public square and there
dressed and trussed for the roasting. The light of morning falling on
his carcass revealed around it great heaps of fruits and vegetables. For
the year had been prosperous.
But the young overlord sulked in his castle at the cliff top, and bit
his nails. From Thursday evening of each week to the morning of Monday,
Mother Church had decreed peace, a Truce of God. Three full days out of
each week his men-at-arms polished their weapons and grew fat. Three
full days out of each week his grudge against his cousin, Philip of the
Black Beard, must feed on itself.
His dark mood irritated the Bishop of Tours, who had come to speak of
certain scandalous things which had come to his ears. Charles heard him
through.
"She took refuge with him," he said violently, when the Bishop had
finished. "She knew what hate there was between us, yet she took refuge
with him."
"The question is," said the Bishop mildly, "why she should have been
driven to refuge. A gentle lady, a faithful wife--"
"Deus!" The young _seigneur_ clapped a fist on the table. "You know well
the reason. A barren woman!"
"She had borne you a daughter."
But Charles was far gone in rage and out of hand. The Bishop took his
offended ears to bed, and left him to sit alone by the dying fire, with
bitterness for company.
Came into the courtyard at midnight the Christmas singers from the town;
the blacksmith rolling a great bass, the crockery-seller who sang
falsetto, and a fool of the village who had slept overnight in a manger
on the holy eve a year before and had brought from it, not wit, but a
voice from Heaven. A miracle of miracles.
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940013198760 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | SAP |
| Publication date: | 08/06/2011 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 25 KB |
| Age Range: | 9 - 12 Years |
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