The Water of the Wondrous Isles, William Morris [bill gates best books txt] 📗

within herself how wild and fierce the man was, and doubted if he might not go stark mad on her hands and destroy her if she thwarted overmuch; and, moreover, frankly she pitied him, and would do what she might to ease his pain and solace his grief of heart. Wherefore she cleared her face of its trouble and let it be vexed no longer, but smiled upon the knight and said: Fair sir, this meseemeth but a little thing for me to do, and I grant it thee with a good will, and this shall now be the first day of the friendship if so thou wilt take it; and may it solace thee.

Who then was gleeful but the knight, and strange it was to see all his sorrow run off him; and he became glad and gamesome as a youth, and yet withal exceeding courteous and kind with her, as though he were serving a mighty queen.

So then they wore the day together in all good fellowship; and first they went up the dale together and right to the foot of that great force, where the stream came thundering down from the sheer rocks; and long Birdalone stood to look thereon, and much she marvelled at it, for no such thing had she seen before.

Thereafter they went afoot into the wood behind the green bower, and when they had gone some way therein for their pleasure, they fell to seeking venison for their dinner; and the knight took Birdalone’s bow and shafts to strike the quarry withal, but he would have her gird his sword to her, that she might not be weaponless. So they gat them a roe and came back therewith to the bower, and the knight dight it and cooked it, and again they ate in fellowship and kindness; and Birdalone had been to the river and fetched thence store of blue-flowered mouse-ear, and of meadow-sweet, whereof was still some left from the early days of summer, and had made her garlands for her head and her loins; and the knight sat and worshipped her, yet he would not so much as touch her hand, sorely as he hungered for the beauty of her body.

Next, when dinner was done, and they lay in the shadow of the trees, and hearkened the moorhen crying from the water, and the moaning of the wood-doves in the high trees, she turned to him and bade him tell her somewhat of the tale of his life and deeds; but he said: Nay, lady, I pray thee pardon me, for little have I to tell thee that is good, and I would not have thee know of me aught worse than thou knowest of me already. Rather be thou kind to me, and tell me of thy days that have been, wherein I know full surely shall be nought but good.

She smiled and blushed, but without more ado fell to telling him of her life in the House under the Wood, and spared not even to tell him somewhat of the wood-mother. And he said no word to her thereover, save thanks and praises for the kindness of her story.

At last the day wore to its ending, and then the knight’s grief strode over him again, and he was moody and few-spoken; and Birdalone was blithe with him still, and would have solaced his grief; but he said: Let it be; as for thee, thou shalt be happy tomorrow, but this happy day of mine is well-nigh worn, and it is as the wearing of my life. And the dark night came, and he bade her good night sorrowfully, and departed to his lair in the wood. Birdalone lay in the bower, and might not sleep a long while for her joy of the morrow, which should bring her back to the Castle of the Quest.

But when morning was, and the sun was but just risen, Birdalone awoke, and stood up and did on her raiment, and called her servant the knight, and he came at once leading the two horses, and said: Now go we to the Castle of the Quest. And he was sober and sorrowful, but nought fierce or wild.

So Birdalone thanked him kindly and praised him, and he changed countenance no whit therefor.

Then they mounted and set forth, and the knight led straight into the wood, and by roads that he wotted of, so that they went nowise slowly for wenders through the thick woodland. Thus went they on their way together, he sorry and she glad.

But now leaves the tale to tell of Birdalone and the knight on whom she happened in the Black Valley of the Greywethers, and turns to the Castle of the Quest and the folk thereof, and what they did in this while and thereafter.

Here ends the Fourth Part of the Water of the Wondrous Isles, which is called Of the Days of Abiding, and the Fifth Part now begins, which is called The Tale of the Quest’s Ending.

The Fifth Part The Tale of the Quest’s Ending I Of Sir Leonard’s Trouble and the Coming of the Quest

Tells the tale that when the chaplain had departed from Birdalone at the bower in the copse, he went home to the castle sadly enough, because of his love and longing for her, which well he wotted might never be satisfied. Moreover when he was come into the castle again, there fell fear upon him for what might betide her, and he rued it that he had done her will in getting her forth of the castle; and in vain now he set before himself all the reasons for deeming that her peril herein was little or nothing, even as he had laid them before her, and which he then believed in utterly, whereas now himseemed there was an answer to every one of them. So he sighed heavily and went into the chapel, wherein was