Bab Bab 12 · THE WEARING OF FOUR DAYS IN THE WOOD BEYOND THE WORLD

. THE WEARING OF FOUR DAYS IN THE WOOD BEYOND THE WORLD

He arose betimes, but found no one to greet him, neither was there any

sound of folk moving within the fair house; so he but broke his fast, and

then went forth and wandered amongst the trees, till he found him a

stream to bathe in, and after he had washed the night off him he lay down

under a tree thereby for a while, but soon turned back toward the house,

lest perchance the Maid should come thither and he should miss her.

It should be said that half a bow-shot from the house on that side (i.e.

due north thereof) was a little hazel-brake, and round about it the trees

were smaller of kind than the oaks and chestnuts he had passed through

before, being mostly of birch and quicken-beam and young ash, with small

wood betwixt them; so now he passed through the thicket, and, coming to

the edge thereof, beheld the Lady and the King's Son walking together

hand in hand, full lovingly by seeming.

He deemed it unmeet to draw back and hide him, so he went forth past them

toward the house. The King's Son scowled on him as he passed, but the

Lady, over whose beauteous face flickered the joyous morning smiles, took

no more heed of him than if he had been one of the trees of the wood. But

she had been so high and disdainful with him the evening before, that he

thought little of that. The twain went on, skirting the hazel-copse, and

he could not choose but turn his eyes on them, so sorely did the Lady's

beauty draw them. Then befell another thing; for behind them the boughs

of the hazels parted, and there stood that little evil thing, he or

another of his kind; for he was quite unclad, save by his fell of yellowy-

brown hair, and that he was girt with a leathern girdle, wherein was

stuck an ugly two-edged knife: he stood upright a moment, and cast his

eyes at Walter and grinned, but not as if he knew him; and scarce could

Walter say whether it were the one he had seen, or another: then he cast

himself down on his belly, and fell to creeping through the long grass

like a serpent, following the footsteps of the Lady and her lover; and

now, as he crept, Walter deemed, in his loathing, that the creature was

liker to a ferret than aught else. He crept on marvellous swiftly, and

was soon clean out of sight. But Walter stood staring after him for a

while, and then lay down by the copse-side, that he might watch the house

and the entry thereof; for he thought, now perchance presently will the

kind maiden come hither to comfort me with a word or two. But hour

passed by hour, and still she came not; and still he lay there, and

thought of the Maid, and longed for her kindness and wisdom, till he

could not refrain his tears, and wept for the lack of her. Then he

arose, and went and sat in the porch, and was very downcast of mood.

But as he sat there, back comes the Lady again, the King's Son leading

her by the hand; they entered the porch, and she passed by him so close

that the odour of her raiment filled all the air about him, and the

sleekness of her side nigh touched him, so that he could not fail to note

that her garments were somewhat disarrayed, and that she kept her right

hand (for her left the King's Son held) to her bosom to hold the cloth

together there, whereas the rich raiment had been torn off from her right

shoulder. As they passed by him, the King's Son once more scowled on

him, wordless, but even more fiercely than before; and again the Lady

heeded him nought.

After they had gone on a while, he entered the hall, and found it empty

from end to end, and no sound in it save the tinkling of the fountain;

but there was victual set on the board. He ate and drank thereof to keep

life lusty within him, and then went out again to the wood-side to watch

and to long; and the time hung heavy on his hands because of the lack of

the fair Maiden.

He was of mind not to go into the house to his rest that night, but to

sleep under the boughs of the forest. But a little after sunset he saw a

bright-clad image moving amidst the carven images of the porch, and the

King's Son came forth and went straight to him, and said: "Thou art to

enter the house, and go into thy chamber forthwith, and by no means to go

forth of it betwixt sunset and sunrise. My Lady will not away with thy

prowling round the house in the night-tide."

Therewith he turned away, and went into the house again; and Walter

followed him soberly, remembering how the Maid had bidden him forbear. So

he went to his chamber, and slept.

But amidst of the night he awoke and deemed that he heard a voice not far

off, so he crept out of his bed and peered around, lest, perchance, the

Maid had come to speak with him; but his chamber was dusk and empty: then

he went to the window and looked out, and saw the moon shining bright and

white upon the greensward. And lo! the Lady walking with the King's Son,

and he clad in thin and wanton raiment, but she in nought else save what

God had given her of long, crispy yellow hair. Then was Walter ashamed

to look on her, seeing that there was a man with her, and gat him back to

his bed; but yet a long while ere he slept again he had the image before

his eyes of the fair woman on the dewy moonlit grass.

The next day matters went much the same way, and the next also, save that

his sorrow was increased, and he sickened sorely of hope deferred. On

the fourth day also the forenoon wore as erst; but in the heat of the

afternoon Walter sought to the hazel-copse, and laid him down there hard

by a little clearing thereof, and slept from very weariness of grief.

There, after a while, he woke with words still hanging in his ears, and

he knew at once that it was they twain talking together.

The King's Son had just done his say, and now it was the Lady beginning

in her honey-sweet voice, low but strong, wherein even was a little of

huskiness; she said: "Otto, belike it were well to have a little

patience, till we find out what the man is, and whence he cometh; it will

always be easy to rid us of him; it is but a word to our Dwarf-king, and

it will be done in a few minutes."

"Patience!" said the King's Son, angrily; "I wot not how to have patience

with him; for I can see of him that he is rude and violent and

headstrong, and a low-born wily one. Forsooth, he had patience enough

with me the other even, when I rated him in, like the dog that he is, and

he had no manhood to say one word to me. Soothly, as he followed after

me, I had a mind to turn about and deal him a buffet on the face, to see

if I could but draw one angry word from him."

The Lady laughed, and said: "Well, Otto, I know not; that which thou

deemest dastardy in him may be but prudence and wisdom, and he an alien,

far from his friends and nigh to his foes. Perchance we shall yet try

him what he is. Meanwhile, I rede thee try him not with buffets, save he

be weaponless and with bounden hands; or else I deem that but a little

while shalt thou be fain of thy blow."

Now when Walter heard her words and the voice wherein they were said, he

might not forbear being stirred by them, and to him, all lonely there,

they seemed friendly.

But he lay still, and the King's Son answered the Lady and said: "I know

not what is in thine heart concerning this runagate, that thou shouldst

bemock me with his valiancy, whereof thou knowest nought. If thou deem

me unworthy of thee, send me back safe to my father's country; I may look

to have worship there; yea, and the love of fair women belike."

Therewith it seemed as if he had put forth his hand to the Lady to caress

her, for she said: "Nay, lay not thine hand on my shoulder, for to-day

and now it is not the hand of love, but of pride and folly, and would-be

mastery. Nay, neither shalt thou rise up and leave me until thy mood is

softer and kinder to me."

Then was there silence betwixt them a while, and thereafter the King's

Son spake in a wheedling voice: "My goddess, I pray thee pardon me! But

canst thou wonder that I fear thy wearying of me, and am therefore

peevish and jealous? thou so far above the Queens of the World, and I a

poor youth that without thee were nothing!"

She answered nought, and he went on again: "Was it not so, O goddess,

that this man of the sons of the merchants was little heedful of thee,

and thy loveliness and thy majesty?"

She laughed and said: "Maybe he deemed not that he had much to gain of

us, seeing thee sitting by our side, and whereas we spake to him coldly

and sternly and disdainfully. Withal, the poor youth was dazzled and

shamefaced before us; that we could see in the eyes and the mien of him."

Now this she spoke so kindly and sweetly, that again was Walter all

stirred thereat; and it came into his mind that it might be she knew he

was anigh and hearing her, and that she spake as much for him as for the

King's Son: but that one answered: "Lady, didst thou not see somewhat

else in his eyes, to wit, that they had but of late looked on some fair

woman other than thee? As for me, I deem it not so unlike that on the

way to thine hall he may have fallen in with thy Maid."

He spoke in a faltering voice, as if shrinking from some storm that might

come. And forsooth the Lady's voice was changed as she answered, though

there was no outward heat in it; rather it was sharp and eager and cold

at once. She said: "Yea, that is not ill thought of; but we may not

always keep our thrall in mind. If it be so as thou deemest, we shall

come to know it most like when we next fall in with her; or if she hath

been shy this time, then shall she pay the heavier for it; for we will

question her by the Fountain in the Hall as to what betid by the Fountain

of the Rock."

Spake the King's Son, faltering yet more: "Lady, were it not better to

question the man himself? the Maid is stout-hearted, and will not be

speedily quelled into a true tale; whereas the man I deem of no account."

"No, no," said the Lady sharply, "it shall not be."

Then was she silent a while; and then she said: "How if the man should

prove to be our master?"

"Nay, our Lady," said the King's Son, "thou art jesting with me; thou and

thy might and thy wisdom, and all that thy wisdom may command, to be over-

mastered by a gangrel churl!"

"But how if I will not have it command, King's Son?" said the Lady. "I

tell thee I know thine heart, but thou knowest not mine. But be at

peace! For since thou hast prayed for this woman--nay, not with thy

words, I wot, but with thy trembling hands, and thine anxious eyes, and

knitted brow--I say, since thou hast prayed for her so earnestly, she

shall escape this time. But whether it will be to her gain in the long

run, I misdoubt me. See thou to that, Otto! thou who hast held me in

thine arms so oft. And now thou mayest depart if thou wilt."

It seemed to Walter as if the King's Son were dumbfoundered at her words:

he answered nought, and presently he rose from the ground, and went his

ways slowly toward the house. The Lady lay there a little while, and

then went her ways also; but turned away from the house toward the wood

at the other end thereof, whereby Walter had first come thither.

As for Walter, he was confused in mind and shaken in spirit; and withal

he seemed to see guile and cruel deeds under the talk of those two, and

waxed wrathful thereat. Yet he said to himself, that nought might he do,

but was as one bound hand and foot, till he had seen the Maid again.