Kabanata Kabanata 24 · THE MAID TELLS OF WHAT HAD BEFALLEN HER

. THE MAID TELLS OF WHAT HAD BEFALLEN HER

"Now, friend, by the clear of the moon and this firelight will I tell

what I may and can of my tale. Thus it is: If I be wholly of the race of

Adam I wot not nor can I tell thee how many years old I may be. For

there are, as it were, shards or gaps in my life, wherein are but a few

things dimly remembered, and doubtless many things forgotten. I remember

well when I was a little child, and right happy, and there were people

about me whom I loved, and who loved me. It was not in this land; but

all things were lovely there; the year's beginning, the happy mid-year,

the year's waning, the year's ending, and then again its beginning. That

passed away, and then for a while is more than dimness, for nought I

remember save that I was. Thereafter I remember again, and am a young

maiden, and I know some things, and long to know more. I am nowise

happy; I am amongst people who bid me go, and I go; and do this, and I do

it: none loveth me, none tormenteth me; but I wear my heart in longing

for I scarce know what. Neither then am I in this land, but in a land

that I love not, and a house that is big and stately, but nought lovely.

Then is a dim time again, and sithence a time not right clear; an evil

time, wherein I am older, wellnigh grown to womanhood. There are a many

folk about me, and they foul, and greedy, and hard; and my spirit is

fierce, and my body feeble; and I am set to tasks that I would not do, by

them that are unwiser than I; and smitten I am by them that are less

valiant than I; and I know lack, and stripes, and divers misery. But all

that is now become but a dim picture to me, save that amongst all these

unfriends is a friend to me; an old woman, who telleth me sweet tales of

other life, wherein all is high and goodly, or at the least valiant and

doughty, and she setteth hope in my heart and learneth me, and maketh me

to know much . . . O much . . . so that at last I am grown wise, and wise

to be mighty if I durst. Yet am I nought in this land all this while,

but, as meseemeth, in a great and a foul city."

"And then, as it were, I fall asleep; and in my sleep is nought, save

here and there a wild dream, somedeal lovely, somedeal hideous: but of

this dream is my Mistress a part, and the monster, withal, whose head

thou didst cleave to-day. But when I am awaken from it, then am I verily

in this land, and myself, as thou seest me to-day. And the first part of

my life here is this, that I am in the pillared ball yonder, half-clad

and with bound hands; and the Dwarf leadeth me to the Lady, and I hear

his horrible croak as he sayeth: 'Lady, will this one do?' and then the

sweet voice of the Lady saying: 'This one will do; thou shalt have thy

reward: now, set thou the token upon her.' Then I remember the Dwarf

dragging me away, and my heart sinking for fear of him: but for that time

he did me no more harm than the rivetting upon my leg this iron ring

which here thou seest."

"So from that time forward I have lived in this land, and been the thrall

of the Lady; and I remember my life here day by day, and no part of it

has fallen into the dimness of dreams. Thereof will I tell thee but

little: but this I will tell thee, that in spite of my past dreams, or it

may be because of them, I had not lost the wisdom which the old woman had

erst learned me, and for more wisdom I longed. Maybe this longing shall

now make both thee and me happy, but for the passing time it brought me

grief. For at first my Mistress was indeed wayward with me, but as any

great lady might be with her bought thrall, whiles caressing me, and

whiles chastising me, as her mood went; but she seemed not to be cruel of

malice, or with any set purpose. But so it was (rather little by little

than by any great sudden uncovering of my intent), that she came to know

that I also had some of the wisdom whereby she lived her queenly life.

That was about two years after I was first her thrall, and three weary

years have gone by since she began to see in me the enemy of her days.

Now why or wherefore I know not, but it seemeth that it would not avail

her to slay me outright, or suffer me to die; but nought withheld her

from piling up griefs and miseries on my head. At last she set her

servant, the Dwarf, upon me, even he whose head thou clavest to-day. Many

things I bore from him whereof it were unseemly for my tongue to tell

before thee; but the time came when he exceeded, and I could bear no

more; and then I showed him this sharp knife (wherewith I would have

thrust me through to the heart if thou hadst not pardoned me e'en now),

and I told him that if he forbore me not, I would slay, not him, but

myself; and this he might not away with because of the commandment of the

Lady, who had given him the word that in any case I must be kept living.

And her hand, withal, fear held somewhat hereafter. Yet was there need

to me of all my wisdom; for with all this her hatred grew, and whiles

raged within her so furiously that it overmastered her fear, and at such

times she would have put me to death if I had not escaped her by some

turn of my lore."

"Now further, I shall tell thee that somewhat more than a year ago hither

to this land came the King's Son, the second goodly man, as thou art the

third, whom her sorceries have drawn hither since I have dwelt here.

Forsooth, when he first came, he seemed to us, to me, and yet more to my

Lady, to be as beautiful as an angel, and sorely she loved him; and he

her, after his fashion: but he was light-minded, and cold-hearted, and in

a while he must needs turn his eyes upon me, and offer me his love, which

was but foul and unkind as it turned out; for when I nay-said him, as

maybe I had not done save for fear of my Mistress, he had no pity upon

me, but spared not to lead me into the trap of her wrath, and leave me

without help, or a good word. But, O friend, in spite of all grief and

anguish, I learned still, and waxed wise, and wiser, abiding the day of

my deliverance, which has come, and thou art come."

Therewith she took Walter's hands and kissed them; but he kissed her

face, and her tears wet her lips. Then she went on: "But sithence,

months ago, the Lady began to weary of this dastard, despite of his

beauty; and then it was thy turn to be swept into her net; I partly guess

how. For on a day in broad daylight, as I was serving my Mistress in the

hall, and the Evil Thing, whose head is now cloven, was lying across the

threshold of the door, as it were a dream fell upon me, though I strove

to cast it off for fear of chastisement; for the pillared hall wavered,

and vanished from my sight, and my feet were treading a rough stone

pavement instead of the marble wonder of the hall, and there was the

scent of the salt sea and of the tackle of ships, and behind me were tall

houses, and before me the ships indeed, with their ropes beating and

their sails flapping and their masts wavering; and in mine ears was the

hale and how of mariners; things that I had seen and heard in the dimness

of my life gone by."

"And there was I, and the Dwarf before me, and the Lady after me, going

over the gangway aboard of a tall ship, and she gathered way and was

gotten out of the haven, and straightway I saw the mariners cast abroad

their ancient."

Quoth Walter: "What then! Sawest thou the blazon thereon, of a wolf-like

beast ramping up against a maiden? And that might well have been thou."

She said: "Yea, so it was; but refrain thee, that I may tell on my tale!

The ship and the sea vanished away, but I was not back in the hall of the

Golden House; and again were we three in the street of the self-same town

which we had but just left; but somewhat dim was my vision thereof, and I

saw little save the door of a goodly house before me, and speedily it

died out, and we were again in the pillared hall, wherein my thralldom

was made manifest."

"Maiden," said Walter, "one question I would ask thee; to wit, didst thou

see me on the quay by the ships?"

"Nay," she said, "there were many folk about, but they were all as images

of the aliens to me. Now hearken further: three months thereafter came

the dream upon me again, when we were all three together in the Pillared

Hall; and again was the vision somewhat dim. Once more we were in the

street of a busy town, but all unlike to that other one, and there were

men standing together on our right hands by the door of a house."

"Yea, yea," quoth Walter; "and, forsooth, one of them was who but I."

"Refrain thee, beloved!" she said; "for my tale draweth to its ending,

and I would have thee hearken heedfully: for maybe thou shalt once again

deem my deed past pardon. Some twenty days after this last dream, I had

some leisure from my Mistress's service, so I went to disport me by the

Well of the Oak-tree (or forsooth she might have set in my mind the

thought of going there, that I might meet thee and give her some occasion

against me); and I sat thereby, nowise loving the earth, but sick at

heart, because of late the King's Son had been more than ever instant

with me to yield him my body, threatening me else with casting me into

all that the worst could do to me of torments and shames day by day. I

say my heart failed me, and I was wellnigh brought to the point of yea-

saying his desires, that I might take the chance of something befalling

me that were less bad than the worst. But here must I tell thee a thing,

and pray thee to take it to heart. This, more than aught else, had given

me strength to nay-say that dastard, that my wisdom both hath been, and

now is, the wisdom of a wise maid, and not of a woman, and all the might

thereof shall I lose with my maidenhead. Evil wilt thou think of me

then, for all I was tried so sore, that I was at point to cast it all

away, so wretchedly as I shrank from the horror of the Lady's wrath."

"But there as I sat pondering these things, I saw a man coming, and

thought no otherwise thereof but that it was the King's Son, till I saw

the stranger drawing near, and his golden hair, and his grey eyes; and

then I heard his voice, and his kindness pierced my heart, and I knew

that my friend had come to see me; and O, friend, these tears are for the

sweetness of that past hour!"

Said Walter: "I came to see my friend, I also. Now have I noted what

thou badest me; and I will forbear all as thou commandest me, till we be

safe out of the desert and far away from all evil things; but wilt thou

ban me from all caresses?"

She laughed amidst of her tears, and said: "O, nay, poor lad, if thou

wilt be but wise."

Then she leaned toward him, and took his face betwixt her hands and

kissed him oft, and the tears started in his eyes for love and pity of

her.

Then she said: "Alas, friend! even yet mayst thou doom me guilty, and all

thy love may turn away from me, when I have told thee all that I have

done for the sake of thee and me. O, if then there might be some

chastisement for the guilty woman, and not mere sundering!"

"Fear nothing, sweetling," said he; "for indeed I deem that already I

know partly what thou hast done."

She sighed, and said: "I will tell thee next, that I banned thy kissing

and caressing of me till to-day because I knew that my Mistress would

surely know if a man, if thou, hadst so much as touched a finger of mine

in love, it was to try me herein that on the morning of the hunting she

kissed and embraced me, till I almost died thereof, and showed thee my

shoulder and my limbs; and to try thee withal, if thine eye should

glister or thy cheek flush thereat; for indeed she was raging in jealousy

of thee. Next, my friend, even whiles we were talking together at the

Well of the Rock, I was pondering on what we should do to escape from

this land of lies. Maybe thou wilt say: Why didst thou not take my hand

and flee with me as we fled to-day? Friend, it is most true, that were

she not dead we had not escaped thus far. For her trackers would have

followed us, set on by her, and brought us back to an evil fate.

Therefore I tell thee that from the first I did plot the death of those

two, the Dwarf and the Mistress. For no otherwise mightest thou live, or

I escape from death in life. But as to the dastard who threatened me

with a thrall's pains, I heeded him nought to live or die, for well I

knew that thy valiant sword, yea, or thy bare hands, would speedily tame

him. Now first I knew that I must make a show of yielding to the King's

Son; and somewhat how I did therein, thou knowest. But no night and no

time did I give him to bed me, till after I had met thee as thou wentest

to the Golden House, before the adventure of fetching the lion's skin;

and up to that time I had scarce known what to do, save ever to bid thee,

with sore grief and pain, to yield thee to the wicked woman's desire. But

as we spake together there by the stream, and I saw that the Evil Thing

(whose head thou clavest e'en now) was spying on us, then amidst the

sickness of terror which ever came over me whensoever I thought of him,

and much more when I saw him (ah! he is dead now!), it came flashing into

my mind how I might destroy my enemy. Therefore I made the Dwarf my

messenger to her, by bidding thee to my bed in such wise that he might

hear it. And wot thou well, that he speedily carried her the tidings.

Meanwhile I hastened to lie to the King's Son, and all privily bade him

come to me and not thee. And thereafter, by dint of waiting and

watching, and taking the only chance that there was, I met thee as thou

camest back from fetching the skin of the lion that never was, and gave

thee that warning, or else had we been undone indeed."

Said Walter: "Was the lion of her making or of thine then?"

She said: "Of hers: why should I deal with such a matter?"

"Yea," said Walter, "but she verily swooned, and she was verily wroth

with the Enemy."

The Maid smiled, and said: "If her lie was not like very sooth, then had

she not been the crafts-master that I knew her: one may lie otherwise

than with the tongue alone: yet indeed her wrath against the Enemy was

nought feigned; for the Enemy was even I, and in these latter days never

did her wrath leave me. But to go on with my tale."

"Now doubt thou not, that, when thou camest into the hall yester eve, the

Mistress knew of thy counterfeit tryst with me, and meant nought but

death for thee; yet first would she have thee in her arms again,

therefore did she make much of thee at table (and that was partly for my

torment also), and therefore did she make that tryst with thee, and

deemed doubtless that thou wouldst not dare to forgo it, even if thou

shouldst go to me thereafter."

"Now I had trained that dastard to me as I have told thee, but I gave him

a sleepy draught, so that when I came to the bed he might not move toward

me nor open his eyes: but I lay down beside him, so that the Lady might

know that my body had been there; for well had she wotted if it had not.

Then as there I lay I cast over him thy shape, so that none might have

known but that thou wert lying by my side, and there, trembling, I abode

what should befall. Thus I passed through the hour whenas thou shouldest

have been at her chamber, and the time of my tryst with thee was come as

the Mistress would be deeming; so that I looked for her speedily, and my

heart wellnigh failed me for fear of her cruelty."

"Presently then I heard a stirring in her chamber, and I slipped from out

the bed, and hid me behind the hangings, and was like to die for fear of

her; and lo, presently she came stealing in softly, holding a lamp in one

hand and a knife in the other. And I tell thee of a sooth that I also

had a sharp knife in my hand to defend my life if need were. She held

the lamp up above her head before she drew near to the bed-side, and I

heard her mutter: 'She is not there then! but she shall be taken.' Then

she went up to the bed and stooped over it, and laid her hand on the

place where I had lain; and therewith her eyes turned to that false image

of thee lying there, and she fell a-trembling and shaking, and the lamp

fell to the ground and was quenched (but there was bright moonlight in

the room, and still I could see what betid). But she uttered a noise

like the low roar of a wild beast, and I saw her arm and hand rise up,

and the flashing of the steel beneath the hand, and then down came the

hand and the steel, and I went nigh to swooning lest perchance I had

wrought over well, and thine image were thy very self. The dastard died

without a groan: why should I lament him? I cannot. But the Lady drew

him toward her, and snatched the clothes from off his shoulders and

breast, and fell a-gibbering sounds mostly without meaning, but broken

here and there with words. Then I heard her say: 'I shall forget; I

shall forget; and the new days shall come.' Then was there silence of

her a little, and thereafter she cried out in a terrible voice: 'O no,

no, no! I cannot forget; I cannot forget;' and she raised a great

wailing cry that filled all the night with horror (didst thou not hear

it?), and caught up the knife from the bed and thrust it into her breast,

and fell down a dead heap over the bed and on to the man whom she had

slain. And then I thought of thee, and joy smote across my terror; how

shall I gainsay it? And I fled away to thee, and I took thine hands in

mine, thy dear hands, and we fled away together. Shall we be still

together?"

He spoke slowly, and touched her not, and she, forbearing all sobbing and

weeping, sat looking wistfully on him. He said: "I think thou hast told

me all; and whether thy guile slew her, or her own evil heart, she was

slain last night who lay in mine arms the night before. It was ill, and

ill done of me, for I loved not her, but thee, and I wished for her death

that I might be with thee. Thou wottest this, and still thou lovest me,

it may be overweeningly. What have I to say then? If there be any guilt

of guile, I also was in the guile; and if there be any guilt of murder, I

also was in the murder. Thus we say to each other; and to God and his

Hallows we say: 'We two have conspired to slay the woman who tormented

one of us, and would have slain the other; and if we have done amiss

therein, then shall we two together pay the penalty; for in this have we

done as one body and one soul.'"

Therewith he put his arms about her and kissed her, but soberly and

friendly, as if he would comfort her. And thereafter he said to her:

"Maybe to-morrow, in the sunlight, I will ask thee of this woman, what

she verily was; but now let her be. And thou, thou art over-wearied, and

I bid thee sleep."

So he went about and gathered of bracken a great heap for her bed, and

did his coat thereover, and led her thereto, and she lay down meekly, and

smiled and crossed her arms over her bosom, and presently fell asleep.

But as for him, he watched by the fire-side till dawn began to glimmer,

and then he also laid him down and slept.