الفصل الفصل 14 · THE HUNTING OF THE HART

. THE HUNTING OF THE HART

As they went, they found a change in the land, which grew emptier of big

and wide-spreading trees, and more beset with thickets. From one of

these they roused a hart, and Walter let slip his hounds thereafter and

he and the Lady followed running. Exceeding swift was she, and

well-breathed withal, so that Walter wondered at her; and eager she was

in the chase as the very hounds, heeding nothing the scratching of briars

or the whipping of stiff twigs as she sped on. But for all their eager

hunting, the quarry outran both dogs and folk, and gat him into a great

thicket, amidmost whereof was a wide plash of water. Into the thicket

they followed him, but he took to the water under their eyes and made

land on the other side; and because of the tangle of underwood, he swam

across much faster than they might have any hope to come round on him;

and so were the hunters left undone for that time.

So the Lady cast herself down on the green grass anigh the water, while

Walter blew the hounds in and coupled them up; then he turned round to

her, and lo! she was weeping for despite that they had lost the quarry;

and again did Walter wonder that so little a matter should raise a

passion of tears in her. He durst not ask what ailed her, or proffer her

solace, but was not ill apaid by beholding her loveliness as she lay.

Presently she raised up her head and turned to Walter, and spake to him

angrily and said: "Squire, why dost thou stand staring at me like a

fool?"

"Yea, Lady," he said; "but the sight of thee maketh me foolish to do

aught else but to look on thee."

She said, in a peevish voice: "Tush, Squire, the day is too far spent for

soft and courtly speeches; what was good there is nought so good here.

Withal, I know more of thine heart than thou deemest."

Walter hung down his head and reddened, and she looked on him, and her

face changed, and she smiled and said, kindly this time: "Look ye,

Squire, I am hot and weary, and ill-content; but presently it will be

better with me; for my knees have been telling my shoulders that the cold

water of this little lake will be sweet and pleasant this summer noonday,

and that I shall forget my foil when I have taken my pleasure therein.

Wherefore, go thou with thine hounds without the thicket and there abide

my coming. And I bid thee look not aback as thou goest, for therein were

peril to thee: I shall not keep thee tarrying long alone."

He bowed his head to her, and turned and went his ways. And now, when he

was a little space away from her, he deemed her indeed a marvel of women,

and wellnigh forgat all his doubts and fears concerning her, whether she

were a fair image fashioned out of lies and guile, or it might be but an

evil thing in the shape of a goodly woman. Forsooth, when he saw her

caressing the dear and friendly Maid, his heart all turned against her,

despite what his eyes and his ears told his mind, and she seemed like as

it were a serpent enfolding the simplicity of the body which he loved.

But now it was all changed, and he lay on the grass and longed for her

coming; which was delayed for somewhat more than an hour. Then she came

back to him, smiling and fresh and cheerful, her green gown let down to

her heels.

He sprang up to meet her, and she came close to him, and spake from a

laughing face: "Squire, hast thou no meat in thy wallet? For, meseemeth,

I fed thee when thou wert hungry the other day; do thou now the same by

me."

He smiled, and louted to her, and took his wallet and brought out thence

bread and flesh and wine, and spread them all out before her on the green

grass, and then stood by humbly before her. But she said: "Nay, my

Squire, sit down by me and eat with me, for to-day are we both hunters

together."

So he sat down by her trembling, but neither for awe of her greatness,

nor for fear and horror of her guile and sorcery.

A while they sat there together after they had done their meat, and the

Lady fell a-talking with Walter concerning the parts of the earth, and

the manners of men, and of his journeyings to and fro.

At last she said: "Thou hast told me much and answered all my questions

wisely, and as my good Squire should, and that pleaseth me. But now tell

me of the city wherein thou wert born and bred; a city whereof thou hast

hitherto told me nought."

"Lady," he said, "it is a fair and a great city, and to many it seemeth

lovely. But I have left it, and now it is nothing to me."

"Hast thou not kindred there?" said she.

"Yea," said he, "and foemen withal; and a false woman waylayeth my life

there."

"And what was she?" said the Lady.

Said Walter: "She was but my wife."

"Was she fair?" said the Lady.

Walter looked on her a while, and then said: "I was going to say that she

was wellnigh as fair as thou; but that may scarce be. Yet was she very

fair. But now, kind and gracious Lady, I will say this word to thee: I

marvel that thou askest so many things concerning the city of Langton on

Holm, where I was born, and where are my kindred yet; for meseemeth that

thou knowest it thyself."

"I know it, I?" said the Lady.

"What, then! thou knowest it not?" said Walter.

Spake the Lady, and some of her old disdain was in her words: "Dost thou

deem that I wander about the world and its cheaping-steads like one of

the chap-men? Nay, I dwell in the Wood beyond the World, and nowhere

else. What hath put this word into thy mouth?"

He said: "Pardon me, Lady, if I have misdone; but thus it was: Mine own

eyes beheld thee going down the quays of our city, and thence a

ship-board, and the ship sailed out of the haven. And first of all went

a strange dwarf, whom I have seen here, and then thy Maid; and then went

thy gracious and lovely body."

The Lady's face changed as he spoke, and she turned red and then pale,

and set her teeth; but she refrained her, and said: "Squire, I see of

thee that thou art no liar, nor light of wit, therefore I suppose that

thou hast verily seen some appearance of me; but never have I been in

Langton, nor thought thereof, nor known that such a stead there was until

thou namedst it e'en now. Wherefore, I deem that an enemy hath cast the

shadow of me on the air of that land."

"Yea, my Lady," said Walter; "and what enemy mightest thou have to have

done this?"

She was slow of answer, but spake at last from a quivering mouth of

anger: "Knowest thou not the saw, that a man's foes are they of his own

house? If I find out for a truth who hath done this, the said enemy

shall have an evil hour with me."

Again she was silent, and she clenched her hands and strained her limbs

in the heat of her anger; so that Walter was afraid of her, and all his

misgivings came back to his heart again, and he repented that he had told

her so much. But in a little while all that trouble and wrath seemed to

flow off her, and again was she of good cheer, and kind and sweet to him

and she said: "But in sooth, however it may be, I thank thee, my Squire

and friend, for telling me hereof. And surely no wyte do I lay on thee.

And, moreover, is it not this vision which hath brought thee hither?"

"So it is, Lady," said he.

"Then have we to thank it," said the Lady, "and thou art welcome to our

land."

And therewith she held out her hand to him, and he took it on his knees

and kissed it: and then it was as if a red-hot iron had run through his

heart, and he felt faint, and bowed down his head. But he held her hand

yet, and kissed it many times, and the wrist and the arm, and knew not

where he was.

But she drew a little away from him, and arose and said: "Now is the day

wearing, and if we are to bear back any venison we must buckle to the

work. So arise, Squire, and take the hounds and come with me; for not

far off is a little thicket which mostly harbours foison of deer, great

and small. Let us come our ways."