The Water of the Wondrous Isles by William Morris (love letters to the dead txt) 📗

her to Utterhay and the skirts of Evilshaw. p. 372CHAPTER II.  OF BIRDALONE AND HER FELLOWSHIP, THEIR FARING OVER THE DOWNLAND.

Thus rode they along and loitered not, though they talked blithely together; and Birdalone wondered to herself that she might so much as hold up her head for bitter thoughts of the days and the longings but late passed away, but so it was, that it was only now and again that they stung her into despair and silence, and for the most part she hearkened to the talk of the old man and the lads about the days of Greenford and the alarms of lifting and unpeace, and the ways of the chapmen and the craftsmen.

An hour after noon they rested in a little dale of the downland where was a pool and three thorn-bushes thereby; and when they had lighted down, the old man knelt before Birdalone and took her hand, and swore himself her man to do her will, whatso it were; and then he stood up and bade his sons do likewise; so they two knelt before her in turn, somewhat shy and abashed, for all that they were such stout, bold fellows, and found it hard to take her hand, and then when they had it in theirs, hard to let it go again.

A score of miles and five they rode that day, and had no roof over them at night save the naked heaven, but to Birdalone that was but little scathe: they made a shift to have some fire by them, and the three men sat long about it that even while Birdalone told them somewhat of her life; and as she told of the House under the Wood and the Great Water, Gerard had some inkling of whereabouts it was; but was nought so sure, because, as abovesaid in this tale, seldom did any from the world of men venture in Evilshaw, or know of the Great Water from its banks that gave unto the forest.

In like wise they rode the next day, and came at eventide to a thorp in a fair little dale of the downland, and there they guested with the shepherd-folk, who wondered much at the beauty of Birdalone, so that at first they scarce durst venture to draw nigh unto her until Gerard and his sons had had some familiar converse with them; then indeed they exceeded in kindness toward them, in their rough upland fashion, but ever found it hard to keep their eyes off Birdalone, and that the more after they had heard the full sweetness of her voice; whereas she sang to them certain songs which she had learned in the Castle of the Quest, though it made her heart sore; but she deemed she must needs pay that kindly folk for their guestful and blithe ways.  And thereafter they sang to the pipe and the harp their own downland songs; and this she found strange, that whereas her eyes were dry when she was singing the songs of love of the knighthood, the wildness of the shepherd-music drew the tears from her, would she, would she not.  Homelike and dear seemed the green willowy dale to her, and in the night ere she slept, and she lay quiet amidst of the peaceful people, she could not choose but weep again, for pity of the bitter-sweet of her own love, and for pity of the wide world withal, and all the ways of its many folk that lay so new before her.

p. 374CHAPTER III.  THEY COME TO THE CITY OF THE FIVE CRAFTS, AND BIRDALONE MEETS WITH THE POOR-WIFE.

They made not so much way that they came to the Five Crafts on the fourth day, but lay under the bare heavens in a dale below the big swell of the downland, whereof Gerard spake.  But betimes in the morning Birdalone arose and stirred up her men, and they gat to horse, and rode the hill before them till they came on to the crest thereof.  Then Birdalone cried aloud with joy to see the lovely land before her, and the white walls and the towers of the great city, whereas Greenford was but small beside it.

So they rode down into the frank, and entered the gates of the city a little after noon, and again was Birdalone in all amaze at the going to and fro in the streets and the thronging of the markets, and the divers folk, as chapmen and men-at-arms, and craftsmen and lords, who used the said city; and to say sooth, somewhat her heart sank within her, and it seemed to her that it would be hard and troublous to have to deal with so much folk, and that they must needs go past her on the right hand and the left without heeding her life.

Howsoever, Gerard, who knew the city, brought her to a fair hostel, where she was well lodged, she and her men.  Straightway, then, before she went out into the streets again, she fell to getting together what she had of fine broidered work and of fair script, and to finishing what she had unfinished.  And she sent forth Gerard and his sons to find out where was the market for such goods, and if she would have leave to sell the same therein, or anywhere in the town; and Gerard found the hall of the embroiderers, and therein the master of the craft, and he received the carle courteously when he heard that there was fine work come to town, and did him to wit that none in any such craft might have freedom of the market save by leave of the guild of the craft; but, said he, the guilds were open-handed and courteous, and were nowise wont to refuse the said leave, were the work good and true; and he bade Gerard withal tell his mistress that she were best to bring samplings of her work to the Guildhall so soon as she might.  So the very next day went Birdalone thither, and found the master a well-looked tall man of some five-and-forty winters, who looked on her from the first as if he deemed it were no ill way of wearing the time.  To this man she showed her work, and though he found it not easy to take his eyes off Birdalone herself, yet when he looked at her handiwork, he found it better than very good, and he said to her: Damsel, here is what will be sought for at a great price by the great lords and ladies of the land, and the rich burgesses, and especially by the high prelates; and so much of it as thou hast a mind to do is so much coined gold unto thee; and now I see thee what thou art, I were fain that thou gathered good to thee.  But as diligent as thou mayst be, thou hast but one pair of hands, wonderful soothly, and yet but one pair.  He broke off at that word, for he was verily staring at her hands, and longing to see more of her arms than the wrists only, so that he scarce knew what he was saying.  Then he turned red and said: Soothly I wot that no other hands save thine may do such needlework, or make the draughts for them.  But thou wilt need women-servants to help thee, both in dighting the house for thee (for this big old carle here will be scarce meet thereto) and as apprentices to help thee about the work itself; and if thou wilt, I shall seek the best ones out for thee.  Moreover I must tell thee, that though I know for sure how that no woman in the world may work such needlework as thine, yet whiles there cometh hither a woman of middle age, a woman worn by troubles, pious, meek, and kind; and by St. Lucia! now I look on thee again, she might be somewhat like unto thee, were she young and fresh-looking and strong as thou art.  Now this woman I say, and thereat I marvel, doeth needlework that is somewhat after the manner of thine, and which seemed to us excellent till I had seen thine.  Good livelihood she earneth thereby, and is diligent therein; but she hath no heart to get apprentices, or be made one of our guild, both of which were lawful to her as to thee, lovely damsel.  But now I shall counsel her to be made of our guild along with thee, if thou wilt have it so, and then may ye both have three apprentices each, and may make in our city a goodly school, so that our guild shall be glorified thereby, for there will be none such work in the world.  How sayest thou?

She thanked him much, and yeasaid him, and thought in her heart that such work which would keep her hands and her head both busy, would solace the grief of her heart, and wear away the time, that she might live till hope might peradventure arise in her.

Then said the master: There is one thing else, that is, thy dwelling-place; and if thou wilt I shall hire thee a house in the street of the Broiderers, a goodly one: sooth to say, that same is mine own, so thou mayst deem that I tell thee hereof to mine own gain; and that may be (and he reddened therewith); but there is this in it, that if thou lackest money I shall let thee live therein without price till thou shalt have earned more than enough to pay me.

Birdalone thanked him well, but she did him to wit that she was nowise penniless; and presently she departed well pleased, though she deemed that the said master was well-nigh more friendly than might be looked for.  And the next day he came to her in the hostelry, and without more ado brought her to the house in the street of the Broiderers, and she found it fair and well plenished, and so she fell to work to get all things ready.

Now the next week was the day appointed when she should be received into the broiderers’ guild, and the day before came the master aforesaid to see Birdalone.  Sooth to say, he had not failed to come to see her every day, on one pretence or another, since the first day they had met, but ever he did to her with all honour and simply.  But on this day he brought with him the woman skilful of her hands, to show her unto Birdalone, who received her gladly, and thereafter Master Jacobus left them alone together.

The said woman looked worn and aged indeed, but was not of more than five-and-forty winters even by seeming, after the first look at her; she was somewhat tall and well-knit, her face well shapen, and her hair yet goodly.  There was a kind look in the eyes of her, as if she might love anyone with whom she lived that would be kind to her.  Meek, or rather over-meek, of mien she was, and it seemed of her that she had been sore scared and oppressed one while or another.

So when Master Jacobus was gone, Birdalone set her down on the settle beside her, and spake to her full sweetly and kindly, and the woman spake little in turn save answering simply to her questions.  Birdalone asked where she was kinned, and she answered: In Utterhay.  Then said Birdalone: Within these last few days I have heard that town named twice or thrice, and never before, as meseemeth; and yet, hearing the name from thy mouth, it seemeth to stir something in me, as if I had been there one time and longed to be there again.  Is there aught in the place whereof folk tell wide about, so that I might have heard it told of and not noted it at the time?  Nay, lady, said the dame, save perchance that it is on the verge of a very great and very evil wood, otherwise it was once a merry town and of much resort from the country-side.

Birdalone looked on her, and saw that the tears were coming from her eyes and running down her cheeks as she spake; so she said to her: Why dost thou weep, mother?  Is there aught I may do to assuage thy grief?  Said the dame: Thou art so kind to me, and thy voice is so dear and sweet, that I cannot choose but weep.  Meseems it is because love of thee hath taken mine heart, and therewith is blended memory of past sorrow of mine.  Thou askest me if thou mayest do aught to assuage my grief; dear lady, I am not grieved now, that has gone by; nay, now I am more than not grieved, I am made happy, because I am with thee.  But since thou art so debonair with me, I will ask thee