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Calm, composed, only pale as death,
Edith ministered to the Queen with her own hand, and alone
supplied the deficiencies of her numerous attendants.
"How you wait, wenches!" said the Queen, not able even then to
forget frivolous distinctions. "Suffer ye the Lady Edith to do
the duties of your attendance? Seest thou, Edith, they can do
nothing; I shall never be attired in time. We will send for the
Archbishop of Tyre, and employ him as a mediator."
"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Edith. "Go yourself madam; you have
done the evil, do you confer the remedy."
"I will go--I will go," said the Queen; "but if Richard be in his
mood, I dare not speak to him--he will kill me!"
"Yet go, gracious madam," said the Lady Calista, who best knew
her mistress's temper; "not a lion, in his fury, could look upon
such a face and form, and retain so much as an angry thought, far
less a love-true knight like the royal Richard, to whom your
slightest word would be a command."
"Dost thou think so, Calista?" said the Queen.


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