Thanks for your interest in the "Beautiful Maura". I hope you and your children are in admiration of her virtue. Please note there is no description of her physical beauty; however, her beauty is described in her competent action and her thoughtfulness and truth. Let us see how these qualities create her future and bring order to others.
Fr Tom

Chapter 02

"Good citizens, believe me, I have known the king for many years. I have been beaten, taxed and jailed as often as the next traveler who visited this kingdom and know him well enough to assure you, he has not changed. I am a man of science. All the evidence points to the conclusion, he has not changed. Believe me, I present you with the facts not the fanciful fictions of these others."

The kingdom was disrupted for the two weeks since the king first saw the maiden at work in the turnip field. Arguments and disagreements ran throughout the kingdom. Brother argued with brothers and wives with husbands. Ever time a group of the citizenry met, they debated the rumoured change in the fearful King Brian.

It so happened that an old turnip farmer was delivering a load of turnips to the castle. It was his way of paying taxes. The cart was heavily loaded because he knew the king would want a major share of his produce.

Perched on top of the load of turnips was the farmer's daughter, Maura. Her dress of rough, brown homespun, a white scarf covered her head and she wore the usual apron of the peasant women when they worked in the fields or in the kitchen. Her dress was in great contrast to the light, fragile colourful gowns of the noble ladies standing near the main door of the castle.

Many of the noble women laughed at the roughly dressed Maura.

"Look at that creature perched on the top of that load of turnips," Said one of the finely dressed ladies, deftly lifting her lace handkerchief to her nose as if to block out the outrageous odours of the poor, "Now, wouldn't you like to give that young urchin a good scrubbing?"

"The peasants are so uncouth," said another lady, in a most affected tone of voice, "Naturally, I do not know any of them myself but I am told that their manners usually match their need of a good bath."

Another lady dressed in a flowing gown of red and blue taffeta said, "Isn't that quaint. Look - that young girl sitting on top of that farm produce. I'll bet you the poor thing has never had any of the advantages of schooling or learning. The peasants are so disadvantaged, so simple."

Then, bobbing her head from side to side so as to make contact with the audience she had gathered around her, she said, "Why the most rudimentary form of agreement or negotiation would be beyond them, I am sure."

So went the conversation and the laughter of the noble ladies.

If you were not directly involved, it was a humorous sight: a rude cart guided by a tired, broken down old man; loaded with turnips and a young maiden hanging on for fear she would be pitched off.

Rheumatically, the cart bumped and rattled its way through the gates of King Brian's castle. Once inside the wall, the old man drew his cart in line behind those who had come to pay their tribute to King Brian. With difficulty, he dismounted from his wagon, straightened his shoulders and turned to his daughter to assist her. Their home made clothes, the ancient cart and its tired horse were a stark symbol of the abject poverty and prospects of the peasant. However, there was elegance in the way the old man helped his daughter. It was the trace of a smile, the way he held her hand as she dismounted, the look of love and admiration which they shared. Regardless of their obvious poverty and low estate, no princess could claim such true loyalty and care; no father ever felt the satisfaction of such love and admiration as was communicated by his daughter in her gentle look and words.

"Thank you father. You are always so kind. I do love you."

Immediately, the father and his daughter turned to the comfort of their tired horse: a block of wood to prop up the tongue of the cart and a bucket of water to quench the thirst of the beast. Only then did the father and daughter seek shade to rest and to wait their turn.

Several hours passed. The turnip farmer and his daughter waited patiently to bring their produce forward to make their payment.

Without warning, their name was called. Maura looked over at her exhausted old father, his back against the castle wall, sound asleep.

"Father dear, the tax collectors are calling us."

The old man did not move. Exhausted from his labours, he was deaf even to duty.

Confidently, Maura walked over to the family cart, kicked the prop from under the tongue of the wagon and lead the horse up to the tax collector's shed. Several crude remarks were passed by the tax collectors commenting on the beauty and the desirableness of the maiden Maura. With dignity and disregarding the looks and crude implications of their words, Maura stood beside her cart, gave her family name and asked for the receipt for having paid taxes. Immediately, the rough taxmen changed their behaviour. There was something in the bearing, the look, the sense of dignity of the woman which struck them silent and demanded obedience. Quietly and efficiently, they unloaded the cart and with a bow, they retired. Maura grasped the bridle of the horse and turned to lead her wagon to the spot where her father slept.

A great hush had settled on the whole castle. Ladies and gentlemen and finally the king himself came to see what it was that caused the silence. To the king's amazement, there she was again. The most beautiful girl he had ever seen helping an old man into a rickety old cart. Everyone of the court, the tax collectors and the servants were standing quietly observing as if they were watching a solemn religious ceremony.

With effort, the king called, "Young maiden. Wait, I wish to speak with you,"

The tone in the king's voice was new to everyone who heard. His usual hard and rough tone had given way to a soft, gentle, almost pleading voice.

After seeing to the comfort of her father sitting in the empty cart, Maura turned and recognized the king. She didn't cringe in his presence nor did her voice tremble as she said, "You spoke to me, your highness?"

Nervous and with great respect, the king answered, “Well…er…yes. You see, I was wondering if you and the old man--

"Do you refer to my father?" asked the beautiful Maura.

"Yes, by all means your father," stammered Brian, the king, "I was wondering, would you and your father come into the palace and enjoy a cool drink and something to eat?"

"Thank you, your majesty. We are thirsty, hungry and tired. Most graciously, we would welcome the hospitality of your palace," said Maura.

The whole of the king's palace company were silent and awe struck because of the king's kind manner and the bearing and the elegant language of the simple maid.

"Who could she be? Does anyone know her?" were the words being whispered from one courtier to the next. They might have left off whispering and began shouting, it made no difference to King Brian. He neither noticed nor heard those about him. The people of the kingdom had never seen such a serene look on his face.

Gently, he led the maiden and her father through the throngs of ladies and courtiers into the palace. He never looked at or took notice of anyone. His eyes were riveted on the beautiful Maura.

The interior of the castle only emphasized the poverty of Maura and her father. From the rich damask of the curtains to the light blues of the carpets, everything conspired to contrast with their brown, homespun clothes.

The old man was intimidated by the unusual surroundings of wealth and affluence. He clung close to his daughter, expecting momentarily that a truncheon would come crashing down on their heads or they would be grabbed roughly and given a stay in the king's dungeon.

They were a study in dissimilarity. The elegance of the surroundings clashed with their bedraggled clothes; the old man bent over, visibly shaking with fear, huddled close to his daughter who stood square shouldered, staring directly at the king.

"Did you offer my father refreshment?” inquired Maura.

"By all means," replied the smiling king.

"The best of wine and juices. Load my dinner table with the best of meats and sweets. Let us prepare a banquet for my honoured guests," shouted Brian to his servants.

Never did any courtier, servant or guard see the palace arranged so quickly. The table was set and the food and drink appeared almost instantaneously. The king led Maura and her father to the places of honour.

What consternation this sudden hospitality to a peasant caused among the courtiers, the servants and the guards!

"What has changed the King? He seems under the spell of that young maiden," said the head waiter."

"He hasn't taken his eyes off the girl since he noticed her in the courtyard," said the leading lady at court.

"I do believe the king has made a judgment concerning his relationship with that young lady," said the resident scholar, "I would judge his feelings are definitely amorous."

"OH! my, OH my! I hope the king remembers his boyhood training and keeps his intentions chaste. Well do I remember teaching him to be chaste at all times," said the royal chaplain.

In a voice reserved for his best moral sermons, he continued, "The king must be careful in the presence of these peasant girls. They know more than their prayers and are quite capable of bettering their position through any means. Let us retire to chapel and pray for the king. I fear he is enamoured."

As the chaplain led his group to the chapel, he was heard to say, "Oh my! I hope he does not harbour pleasurable thoughts. We may not be able to help having sensual thoughts but we should not harbour them for pleasure."

"I don’t believe I have ever seen the king so intent on discovery," said the prime minister.

"Usually, he has his mind made up before he hears any submission. Look how intently he studies the young maiden and hangs upon her every word. Let us watch and learn her secret powers of persuasion. Surely, if that unlettered girl is able to control him, we who have the most modern techniques of manipulation at hand should be able to convince him of the rightness of our causes," said a politician.

"I fear the king is departing his usual sanguine self. Notice the paleness of his cheeks and the pleading look in his eyes. All signs the man is coming down with some form of the rheum or maybe the beginnings of consumption, believe me," said the royal doctor.

"This whole business of the king's infatuation with this girl does not bode well for this kingdom. Why it could change our society and what we have come to expect of the king.

“Such sudden shifts from rudeness, bullying and unreasonable demands on the work and the wealth of the peasants could send our whole economy into a tailspin. I don't like it. I predict this new pleasant look will ruin the very foundation on which the lives of our court and nobility depend."

The royal economist was breathing heavily by this time. Obviously, the emotional strain of making his views known is taking its toll on his physical resistance. With great effort he continued, "Love will be the ruination of our culture. It is the precursor to understanding and equality, two so-called virtues that remove the possibility of rich and poor, the deserving and the undeserving. Common sense tells us that everyone cannot live like the nobles. There is just not enough of the goods of this world for everyone to have a noble's share. As you can conclude for yourselves, if the nobility is to be preserved, we must have the poor. I hasten to add we must not allow ourselves pity or sympathy for the poverty of the peasants. Their poverty is their glory. It is an essential attribute of being a peasant. Why, if the world were equal we would have no distinction between people. We would rob the peasants of their nobles."

Under the admiring eyes of the king, Maura looked after the needs of her father. Dainty bits of meat and sweets were passed to him first. His cup was kept filled.

Finally, the silence was broken as Maura looked at the entranced king and said, “We are grateful to you, your majesty, for the hospitality you have shown us. The day has been long and the work heavy. Your table has refreshed us. We are most grateful to you and your court. Now, my father and I must depart for our farm. We have animals that depend on us for food and water and we must not disappoint them."

Brian replied, “Young maiden, let me send my servants to feed and water your animals. Stay with us within the court and help us celebrate the bountiful taxes the peasants have provided."

Quickly, Maura turned to the king and with a look of sadness she replied, "I thank you for the invitation and the consideration you have shown for my father and myself. However, I could not celebrate the bountiful taxes wrested from the mouths of the peasants and their children to feed this unproductive court."

A gasp arose from the whole court. The servants lowered their heads, characteristically. Looks of "I told you so" were assumed by all the knowledgeable ladies. The prime minister and his politicians were struck dumb, waiting for the accustomed blast of the king. The economist contorted his face as the first reaction to his prediction of dire consequences for the standard of living of the entire court. The doctor looked to the king as the first act of ministering to his expected violent reaction. The chaplain assumed the position of one who has heard the ultimate of blasphemy. He hurried away from the scandalous scene.

Maura's father blanched as his unusual daughter, once more, took charge of the family fortunes and those of their neighbours. After all these years, he should have grown accustomed to her actions. Maura always surprised him. As a young girl, she had taken over the operation of the household after the death of her mother. She cooked and cleaned and was the first one to offer assistance to a neighbour who needed help because of a death, birth or sickness in a family. Such a beautiful and polite child and here she was talking plainly to the most powerful person in the land.

"I could not participate in your joy when it is built on the sorrow of the powerless people of this land. My father and I thank you for your hospitality. We will remember your kindness; we will return to familiar chores of feeding our animals and cultivating our crops"

A moment of silence followed the statement and the king replied in a voice filled with admiration and love, "Gentle maiden, accept the apologies of your king for my gross conduct. You are right not to partake of our traditional court feast in honour of the harvest. If we feast, it should be in the company of those who tended the crops. Please join us. This year it will be a harvest feast for nobles and peasants alike."

Once more a gasp went through the ranks of the servants and congregation of nobles. An ancient tradition of the land was changed because the peasant maid made a statement concerning fairness.

Immediately, all eyes were on Maura. What reaction would she have to the generosity of the king?

With a slight bow of her head, she acknowledged Brian's words, "Thank you, my lord. We accept your invitation."

Never was there such a party in the history of the country. Food, drink and music were in abundance. Peasants and nobles ate, drank and spoke and even danced with each other. Many a noble lady knew for the first time the thrill of being held and danced in the strong arms of a young peasant. Nobles lost their traditional reserve in the exuberant energy of young maidens showing them the dances and songs of the countryside. Earls sang loudly, barons danced vigorously and noble ladies relaxed their faces so much that they lost their usual composure. It was noted by several, that even the royal chaplain was seen to tap his foot in time with the passionate rhythms of the music, as if sinful activities were acceptable for the day.

Follow the life of Maura - next week - we continue the story - see you then. Fr. Tom