The Wood Beyond the World, William Morris [golden son ebook TXT] 📗

But again I tell thee hereof because my heart is light and full of joy, and telling thee will pleasure me, and cannot do me any harm. For if thou say: How if I carry the tale to my Lady? I answer, thou wilt not. For I know that thine heart hath been somewhat set on the jewel that my hand holdeth; and thou knowest well on whose head the Lady’s wrath would fall, and that would be neither thine nor mine.”

“Thou sayest sooth,” said Walter; “neither is treason my wont.”

So they walked on silently a while, and then Walter said: “But how if the Maiden had nay-said thee; what hadst thou done then?”

“By the heavens!” said the King’s Son fiercely, “she should have paid for her nay-say; then would I⁠—” But he broke off, and said quietly, yet somewhat doggedly: “Why talk of what might have been? She gave me her yea-say pleasantly and sweetly.”

Now Walter knew that the man lied, so he held his peace thereon; but presently he said: “When thou art free wilt thou go to thine own land again?”

“Yea,” said the King’s Son; “she will lead me thither.”

“And wilt thou make her thy lady and queen when thou comest to thy father’s land?” said Walter.

The King’s Son knit his brow, and said: “When I am in mine own land I may do with her what I will; but I look for it that I shall do no otherwise with her than that she shall be well-content.”

Then the talk between them dropped, and the King’s Son turned off toward the wood, singing and joyous; but Walter went soberly toward the house. Forsooth he was not greatly cast down, for besides that he knew that the King’s Son was false, he deemed that under this double tryst lay something which was a-doing in his own behalf. Yet was he eager and troubled, if not downhearted, and his soul was cast about betwixt hope and fear.

XX Walter Is Bidden to Another Tryst

So came he into the pillared hall, and there he found the Lady walking to and fro by the high-seat; and when he drew nigh she turned on him, and said in a voice rather eager than angry: “What hast thou done, Squire? Why art thou come before me?”

He was abashed, and bowed before her and said: “O gracious Lady, thou badest me service, and I have been about it.”

She said: “Tell me then, tell me, what hath betided?”

“Lady,” said he, “when I entered the thicket of thy swooning I found there no carcase of the lion, nor any sign of the dragging away of him.”

She looked full in his face for a little, and then went to her chair, and sat down therein; and in a little while spake to him in a softer voice, and said: “Did I not tell thee that some enemy had done that unto me? and lo! now thou seest that so it is.”

Then was she silent again, and knit her brows and set her teeth; and thereafter she spake harshly and fiercely: “But I will overcome her, and make her days evil, but keep death away from her, that she may die many times over; and know all the sickness of the heart, when foes be nigh, and friends afar, and there is none to deliver!”

Her eyes flashed, and her face was dark with anger; but she turned and caught Walter’s eyes, and the sternness of his face, and she softened at once, and said: “But thou! this hath little to do with thee; and now to thee I speak: Now cometh even and night. Go thou to thy chamber, and there shalt thou find raiment worthy of thee, what thou now art, and what thou shalt be; do on the same, and make thyself most goodly, and then come thou hither and eat and drink with me, and afterwards depart whither thou wilt, till the night has worn to its midmost; and then come thou to my chamber, to wit, through the ivory door in the gallery above; and then and there shall I tell thee a thing, and it shall be for the weal both of thee and of me, but for the grief and woe of the Enemy.”

Therewith she reached her hand to him, and he kissed it, and departed and came to his chamber, and found raiment therebefore rich beyond measure; and he wondered if any new snare lay therein: yet if there were, he saw no way whereby he might escape it, so he did it on, and became as the most glorious of kings, and yet lovelier than any king of the world.

Sithence he went his way into the pillared hall, when it was now night, and without the moon was up, and the trees of the wood as still as images. But within the hall shone bright with many candles, and the fountain glittered in the light of them, as it ran tinkling sweetly into the little stream; and the silvern bridges gleamed, and the pillars shone all round about.

And there on the dais was a table dight most royally, and the Lady sitting thereat, clad in her most glorious array, and behind her the Maid standing humbly, yet clad in precious web of shimmering gold, but with feet unshod, and the iron ring upon her ankle.

So Walter came his ways to the high-seat, and the Lady rose and greeted him, and took him by the hands, and kissed him on either cheek, and sat him down beside her. So they fell to their meat, and the Maid served them; but the Lady took no more heed of her than if she were one of the pillars of the hall; but Walter she caressed oft with sweet words, and the touch of her hand, making him drink out of her cup and eat out of her dish. As to him, he was bashful by seeming, but verily