The Wood Beyond the World by William Morris (ebook reader for surface pro .txt) 📗

days; rather visions of those two women and the monster did but float before him, and fear and desire and the hope of life ran to and fro in his mind.

As he lay thus he heard footsteps drawing near, and he looked between the boughs, and though the sun had just set, he could see close by him a man and a woman going slowly, and they hand in hand; at first he deemed it would be the King’s Son and the Lady, but presently he saw that it was the King’s Son indeed, but that it was the Maid whom he was holding by the hand.  And now he saw of him that his eyes were bright with desire, and of her that she was very pale.  Yet when he heard her begin to speak, it was in a steady voice that she said: “King’s Son, thou hast threatened me oft and unkindly, and now thou threatenest me again, and no less unkindly.  But whatever were thy need herein before, now is there no more need; for my Mistress, of whom thou wert weary, is now grown weary of thee, and belike will not now reward me for drawing thy love to me, as once she would have done; to wit, before the coming of this stranger.  Therefore I say, since I am but a thrall, poor and helpless, betwixt you two mighty ones, I have no choice but to do thy will.”

As she spoke she looked all round about her, as one distraught by the anguish of fear.  Walter, amidst of his wrath and grief, had wellnigh drawn his sword and rushed out of his lair upon the King’s Son.  But he deemed it sure that, so doing, he should undo the Maid altogether, and himself also belike, so he refrained him, though it were a hard matter.

The Maid had stayed her feet now close to where Walter lay, some five yards from him only, and he doubted whether she saw him not from where she stood.  As to the King’s Son, he was so intent upon the Maid, and so greedy of her beauty, that it was not like that he saw anything.

Now moreover Walter looked, and deemed that he beheld something through the grass and bracken on the other side of those two, an ugly brown and yellow body, which, if it were not some beast of the foumart kind, must needs be the monstrous dwarf, or one of his kin; and the flesh crept upon Walter’s bones with the horror of him.  But the King’s Son spoke unto the Maid: “Sweetling, I shall take the gift thou givest me, neither shall I threaten thee any more, howbeit thou givest it not very gladly or graciously.”

She smiled on him with her lips alone, for her eyes were wandering and haggard.  “My lord,” she said, “is not this the manner of women?”

“Well,” he said, “I say that I will take thy love even so given.  Yet let me hear again that thou lovest not that vile newcomer, and that thou hast not seen him, save this morning along with my Lady.  Nay now, thou shalt swear it.”

“What shall I swear by?” she said.

Quoth he, “Thou shalt swear by my body;” and therewith he thrust himself close up against her; but she drew her hand from his, and laid it on his breast, and said: “I swear it by thy body.”

He smiled on her licorously, and took her by the shoulders, and kissed her face many times, and then stood aloof from her, and said: “Now have I had hansel: but tell me, when shall I come to thee?”

She spoke out clearly: “Within three days at furthest; I will do thee to wit of the day and the hour to-morrow, or the day after.”

He kissed her once more, and said: “Forget it not, or the threat holds good.”

And therewith he turned about and went his ways toward the house; and Walter saw the yellow-brown thing creeping after him in the gathering dusk.

As for the Maid, she stood for a while without moving, and looking after the King’s Son and the creature that followed him.  Then she turned about to where Walter lay and lightly put aside the boughs, and Walter leapt up, and they stood face to face.  She said softly but eagerly: “Friend, touch me not yet!”

He spake not, but looked on her sternly.  She said: “Thou art angry with me?”

Still he spake not; but she said: “Friend, this at least I will pray thee; not to play with life and death; with happiness and misery.  Dost thou not remember the oath which we swore each to each but a little while ago?  And dost thou deem that I have changed in these few days?  Is thy mind concerning thee and me the same as it was?  If it be not so, now tell me.  For now have I the mind to do as if neither thou nor I are changed to each other, whoever may have kissed mine unwilling lips, or whomsoever thy lips may have kissed.  But if thou hast changed, and wilt no longer give me thy love, nor crave mine, then shall this steel” (and she drew a sharp knife from her girdle) “be for the fool and the dastard who hath made thee wroth with me, my friend, and my friend that I deemed I had won.  And then let come what will come!  But if thou be nought changed, and the oath yet holds, then, when a little while hath passed, may we thrust all evil and guile and grief behind us, and long joy shall lie before us, and long life, and all honour in death: if only thou wilt do as I bid thee, O my dear, and my friend, and my first friend!”

He looked on her, and his breast heaved up as all the sweetness of her kind love took hold on him, and his face changed, and the tears filled his eyes and ran over, and rained down before her, and he stretched out his hand toward her.

Then she said exceeding sweetly: “Now indeed I see that it is well with me, yea, and with thee also.  A sore pain it is to me, that not even now may I take thine hand, and cast mine arms about thee, and kiss the lips that love me.  But so it has to be.  My dear, even so I were fain to stand here long before thee, even if we spake no more word to each other; but abiding here is perilous; for there is ever an evil spy upon my doings, who has now as I deem followed the King’s Son to the house, but who will return when he has tracked him home thither: so we must sunder.  But belike there is yet time for a word or two: first, the rede which I had thought on for our deliverance is now afoot, though I durst not tell thee thereof, nor have time thereto.  But this much shall I tell thee, that whereas great is the craft of my Mistress in wizardry, yet I also have some little craft therein, and this, which she hath not, to change the aspect of folk so utterly that they seem other than they verily are; yea, so that one may have the aspect of another.  Now the next thing is this: whatsoever my Mistress may bid thee, do her will therein with no more nay-saying than thou deemest may please her.  And the next thing: wheresoever thou mayst meet me, speak not to me, make no sign to me, even when I seem to be all alone, till I stoop down and touch the ring on my ankle with my right hand; but if I do so, then stay thee, without fail, till I speak.  The last thing I will say to thee, dear friend, ere we both go our ways, this it is.  When we are free, and thou knowest all that I have done, I pray thee deem me not evil and wicked, and be not wroth with me for my deed; whereas thou wottest well that I am not in like plight with other women.  I have heard tell that when the knight goeth to the war, and hath overcome his foes by the shearing of swords and guileful tricks, and hath come back home to his own folk, they praise him and bless him, and crown him with flowers, and boast of him before God in the minster for his deliverance of friend and folk and city.  Why shouldst thou be worse to me than this?  Now is all said, my dear and my friend; farewell, farewell!”

Therewith she turned and went her ways toward the house in all speed, but making somewhat of a compass.  And when she was gone, Walter knelt down and kissed the place where her feet had been, and arose thereafter, and made his way toward the house, he also, but slowly, and staying oft on his way.

CHAPTER XVII: OF THE HOUSE AND THE PLEASANCE IN THE WOOD

On the morrow morning Walter loitered a while about the house till the morn was grown old, and then about noon he took his bow and arrows and went into the woods to the northward, to get him some venison.  He went somewhat far ere he shot him a fawn, and then he sat him down to rest under the shade of a great chestnut-tree, for it was not far past the hottest of the day.  He looked around thence and saw below him a little dale with a pleasant stream running through it, and he bethought him of bathing therein, so he went down and had his pleasure of the water and the willowy banks; for he lay naked a while on the grass by the lip of the water, for joy of the flickering shade, and the little breeze that ran over the down-long ripples of the stream.

Then he did on his raiment, and began to come his ways up the bent, but had scarce gone three steps ere he saw a woman coming towards him from downstream.  His heart came into his mouth when he saw her, for she stooped and reached down her arm, as if she would lay her hand on her ankle, so that at first he deemed it had been the Maid, but at the second eye-shot he saw that it was the Mistress.  She stood still and looked on him, so that he deemed she would have him come to her.  So he went to meet her, and grew somewhat shamefaced as he drew nigher, and wondered at her, for now was she clad but in one garment of some dark grey silky stuff, embroidered with, as it were, a garland of flowers about the middle, but which was so thin that, as the wind drifted it from side and limb, it hid her no more, but for the said garland, than if water were running over her: her face was full of smiling joy and content as she spake to him in a kind, caressing voice, and said: “I give thee good day, good Squire, and well art thou met.”  And she held out her hand to him.  He knelt down before her and kissed it, and abode still upon his knees, and hanging down his head.

But she laughed outright, and stooped down to him, and put her hand to his arms, and raised him up, and said to him: “What is this, my Squire, that thou kneelest to me as to an idol?”

He said faltering: “I wot not; but perchance thou art an idol; and I fear thee.”

“What!” she said, “more than yesterday, whenas thou sawest me afraid?”

Said he: “Yea, for that now I see thee unhidden, and meseemeth there hath been none such since the old days of the Gentiles.”

She said: “Hast thou not yet bethought thee of a gift to crave of me, a reward for the slaying of mine enemy, and the saving of me from death?”

“O my Lady,” he said, “even so much