But
this seemed the unkindest cut of all, and the Queen's sorrow was
renewed at the idea of a Saracen--a mediciner--obtaining a boon
for which, with bare head and on bended knee, she had petitioned
her husband in vain. At this new charge Richard's patience began
rather to give way, and he said, in a serious tone of voice,
"Berengaria, the physician saved my life. If it is of value in
your eyes, you will not grudge him a higher recompense than the
only one I could prevail on him to accept."
The Queen was satisfied she had urged her coquettish displeasure
to the verge of safety.
"My Richard," she said, "why brought you not that sage to me,
that England's Queen might show how she esteemed him who could
save from extinction the lamp of chivalry, the glory of England,
and the light of poor Berengaria's life and hope?"
In a word, the matrimonial dispute was ended; but, that some
penalty might be paid to justice, both King and Queen accorded in
laying the whole blame on the agent Nectabanus, who (the Queen
being by this time well weary of the poor dwarf's humour) was,
with his royal consort Guenevra, sentenced to be banished from
the Court; and the unlucky dwarf only escaped a supplementary
whipping, from the Queen's assurances that he had already
sustained personal chastisement.
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