The Water of the Wondrous Isles quotes

The said town was hard on the borders of a wood, which men held to be mighty great, or maybe measureless; though few indeed had entered it, and they that had, brought back tales wild and confused thereof.

Therein was neither highway nor byway, nor wood-reeve nor way-warden; never came chapman thence into Utterhay; no man of Utterhay was so poor or so bold that he durst raise the hunt therein; no outlaw durst flee thereto; no man of God had such trust in the saints that he durst build him a cell in that wood.

For all men deemed it more than perilous; and some said that there walked the worst of the dead; othersome that the Goddesses of the Gentiles haunted there; others again that it was the faery rather, but they full of malice and guile.

No stay she made there, but held forward at her best before the night should fall upon her.

And whatsoever might be told concerning the creatures that other folk had met in Evilshaw, of her it must needs be said that therein she happened on nought worser than herself.

A sharp pang of fear shot through Birdalone’s heart at that word, and she turned very red, and then pale to the lips, but stammered out: No, lady, it is not in mine heart. The dame looked grimly on her and said:

If thou try it and fail, thou shalt rue it once only, to wit, lifelong; and thou canst but fail.

She was silent a while, and then spake in a milder voice: Be content here a while with me, and thereafter thou shalt be more content, and that before long.

Said Birdalone, she also smiling: True it is that thou art nought fearsome to look on. The newcomer laughed outright, and said:

Are we not well met then in the wildwood? and we both as two children whom the earth loveth.

So play we at a game. At what game? said Birdalone. Spake she of the oak-wreath: This; thou shalt tell me what I am like in thine eyes first, because thou wert afraid of me;

The newcomer, who was now close to her, smiled on her, and said in a kind and sweet voice:

Fear nought, Birdalone, for I deem thou wilt find me a friend, and it is not unlike that thou wilt need one ere long.

And furthermore, I will say it, said she smiling, that since I am not afraid of thee, thou needest not be afraid of me. Said Birdalone, she also smiling: True it is that thou art nought fearsome to look on.

thy body shall be a prey to ribalds, and when the fine flower thereof hath faded, thou shalt find that the words of thy lovers were but mockery. That no man shall love thee, and no woman aid thee.

Then shall Eld come to thee and find thee at home with Hell; and Death shall come and mock thee for thy life cast away for nought, for nought.

This is my word to thee: and now I have nought to do to thee save to change thee thy skin, and therein must thou do as thou canst, but it shall be no ugly or evil shape at least.

The red raven-wine now Hast thou drunk, stern and bow; Then wake and awake And the wonted way take! The way of the Wender forth over the flood, For the will of the Sender is blent with the blood.

Scarce had she time to wonder if the boat would obey her spell ere it began to stir beneath her, and then glided out into the lake and took its way over the summer ripple

, going betwixt Green Eyot and the mainland, as if to weather the western ness of the eyot: and it went not a stonecast from the shore of the said mainland.

Her voice was cold rather than fierce, yet was there the poison of malice therein. But Birdalone spake: If I be bold, lady, it is because I see that I have come into the House of Death.

The dying may well be bold.

The House of Death! cried the stupid lady; and wilt thou call my noble house the House of Death? Now art thou no longer bold, stripped thrall, but impudent.

Birdalone wondered at this word, and the place seemed changed to her, yea, was grown somewhat dreary; but she said to the carle: And thou, dost thou change in any wise, since these change not? He laughed somewhat grimly, and said:

The old that be here change from old to dead; how could I change to better?

Yea, the first thing I had to do here was to bury an old man. Quoth she: And were there any children here then? Yea, said he; these same, or I can see no difference in them. Said Birdalone: And how long ago is that?

… boat sped on swiftly thitherward, so that it was not right long ere Birdalone beheld the green shore on either side of the said castle, and at last, three hours before sunset, she was drawing nigh thereto, and beheld it all clearly, what it was.

It was brand-new, and was fair enough, builded part of stone and lime, part of framed work, but was but middling big.

As she drew nigher yet, she saw that there were folk on the walls of it, and they seemed to see her, for a horn was winded from the battlement, and folk were running together to somewhither.

What pardon thou canst have of me, kind knight, thou hast; but now methinks thou makest overmuch of me, because I am the only woman who hath come into thy castle. I am but a simple maiden, though mine errand be not little.

Forsooth she wondered that the stark and gruff old man was so changed to her in little space; for nought she knew as yet how the sight of her cast a hot gleed of love into the hearts of them who beheld her.

Now Birdalone arose; but the castellan knelt at her feet, and kissed her hand again, and again, and yet again. Then he said: Thou art gracious indeed. But methinks the father here will lead thee out-a-gates;

and thus is it called because my lords are seeking their loves whom they have lost; and they have sworn an oath that no woman shall enter therein till their own loves have trodden its floors.

Rose the heart of Birdalone at that word, and she deemed indeed that she was come thither whereas her she-friends would have had her.

The priest beheld her and saw how her beauty was eked by that gladness, and he scarce knew how to contain himself, and might speak no word awhile; then he said: Hearken further concerning thy matter;

and the Green Knight’s speech merry and kind, as of an happy child; and the Golden Knight spake ever free and kindly, though not of many words was he.

And who was happy if Birdalone were not?

But when they had eaten and washed their hands, then spake the Golden Knight: Dear maiden, now are we ready to hear the innermost of thine errand, all we together, if thou wilt.

And she stayed her weeping, and was calmer. But still she walked the floor, and whiles looked out of window, and whiles she looked on her limbs, and felt the sleekness of her sides, and she said:

O my body! how thou longest!

But at last she clad herself in haste, and went stealthily from the chamber, as if she feared to meet anyone; and she stole up to the tower-top that was nighest, and looked through the door on to the leads, and saw no one there;

When Birdalone’s eyes beheld this new thing, of a sudden all care left her, and she dropped her rein, and smote her palms together, and cried out:

Oh! but thou art beautiful, O earth, thou art beautiful!

Then she sat gazing on it, while the greyhead turned and smiled on her, well pleased of her pleasure.

Yet how if this great chieftain be inwardly stirring and will come awake? Shall I say the word now, lest hereafter it be of no avail? Therewith she stretched out her right hand and laid it on the stone, and spake aloud:

O Earth, thou and thy first children, I crave of you that he may come back now at once and loving me.

And her voice sounded strange and unkent to her in that solitude, and she rued it that she had spoken.

Then he smiled, and said: Furthermore, thou hast told so little of thy secret to this stony king here, that I am little the wiser for thy word, and thou the little more betrayed.

Only this I will say, that if He loveth thee not, He is more of a fool than I be.

He reached out his hand to hers, but she drew it aback, and grew yet more ashamed, and could find no word for him.

and then, before we eat together again, thou shalt tell me what thou wilt do with me. He stood up to depart, and she reached out her hand to him in the glimmer, and he saw it, but said:

Nay, if I take thine hand, I shall take thine whole body.

And therewith he departed, and she laid her down in her smock alone, and slept anon, and was dreamless and forgetting everything till the sun was up in the morning.

She looked on him a moment or two, and then stepped forward and stooped to him, and touched his shoulder and said:

Rise up, I bid thee, and be a man and not a wild beast.

So in a while he arose, and stood before her hangdog-like; then she looked on him pitifully, and said: Fair sir and valiant knight, thou hast gone out of thy mind for a while, and thus hast thou shamed both me and thyself;

And now, said he, I am to do more yet; for I am to lead thee to where henceforth I shall have no more part or lot in thee than if thou wert in heaven and I in hell.

I pray thee say not so, said Birdalone; have I not said that I will be thy friend?

Lady, said the knight, I wot well that according to the sweetness of thine heart wilt thou do what thou canst do. And therewith he was silent a while and she also.

And Atra said: Good is the word, and we look to it that the deed shall be better yet.

Thus hath the evil arisen that shall destroy the evil, as oft hath been when the valiant have been grieved

, and the joy of the truehearted hath been stolen from them; then the hand doth the doughty deed and the heart hath ease, and solaced is sorrow.

Bitter winter, burning summer, never more shall waste and wear; Blossom of the rose undying brings undying springtide there.

O for the hope of it, that I might hope it!

O for the days to be and the assuaging of sorrow: I speak the word, and the hope springeth; the word is spoken, and there abideth desire barren of hope! And she bowed down her head and wept bitterly;

At last came Birdalone to herself again, and she looked sweetly on Viridis and smiled on her from out her tears, and said:

Thou seest, sister, how little a loss thou wilt have of me, a mere wild woman.

And now nought availeth either me or thee but I must begone, and that speedily. Let it be tomorrow then. And when the messenger comes at the end of this week, send word by him of what I have done;

No visible token came to her, but her heart grew stronger, and she seemed to see herself yet alive and in hope on the other side of the water; and she said:

Who wotteth what Weird may do, or where the waters may bear me? and there is no swimmer stronger than I.

So then without more ado Birdalone slipped into the water, which lay before her as calm and plain as a great sheet of glass, and fell to rowing with her arms and her legs as though she were but swimming from Green Eyot to the …

and she cried out and said: Is she dead? or will she waken presently and beat me? surely she is dead. And she put forth her hand and touched her face, and it was stone-cold; and she found that she was dead beyond any question.

Then was a great weight lifted off her heart, and she turned about and looked on the meadows and up to the trees of the wood and down to the rippling stream before her, and fair and sweet and joyous were they gotten unto her;

and she looked at the kine who were drawing up towards her, and she laughed merrily, and went to the outhouse hard by and took forth a milking-pail and a stool and fell to milking them one after the other, and the beasts went off …

so be not overanxious or troubled; and thou mayest be good herein, as my fair child should be; for this I have noted in thee, that

Love is not so tyrannous a master but that his servants may whiles think of other matters, and so solace their souls, that they may live despite of all.

Now was Birdalone arisen, and stood before her friend confused and blushing. But Habundia put her two hands on her shoulders and kissed her, and said: Go home now and sleep, and come again tomorrow and let us hear the last of thy tale;

Laughed the wood-wife:

Nay, little one, said she; thou knowest me not utterly as yet.

Thou shalt not bear him at all, nor any part of him; I am strong enough for more than that; see thou!

Why, Birdalone, my dear, dost thou not know me after all these years? Look on me again, look! and thou shalt see that I am not so much changed from what thou sawest me last night.

I am still thine image, my dear, only I was the image of what thou wert, and now I the image of what thou shalt be when two score years and ten of happy life have worn for thee.

Tell me, am I now aught like to thy mother in the flesh?

Then Arthur threw his arms about her, and kissed her cheeks and blessed her, while she laughed on him and said:

Nay, fair sir, if thou wilt do so much with the withered branch, what wilt thou with the blossom of the tree?

And he was abashed before her, but hope made his heart to dance.

Alas! that I lost the sound of thy feet! He spake, and his voice sounded false unto him, as if it came from another’s mouth: I wot not; the woman that led me nearby seemed to bid me hope. Then he said:

Nay, the sooth is that I should have died if I had not found thee here; I have been sick so long with hoping.

Again were they silent till she said: I would that I had heard thee crossing the brook. But the wood-wife bade me look for thee no earlier than tomorrow; else had I time enough;

But he laid his head on her bosom and kissed her all about, and said: Nay, my own love, it is well, it is better. And she murmured over him: O friend, my dear, think not that I had will to hide me from thee.

All that is here of me is thine, and thine, and thine.

And she took his hand and they arose together, and she said: O friend, I fled from thee once and left thee lonely of me because I deemed need drave me to it; and I feared the strife of friends, and confusion and tangle.

But he laid his head on her bosom and kissed her all about, and said:

Nay, my own love, it is well, it is better.

And she murmured over him: O friend, my dear, think not that I had will to hide me from thee. All that is here of me is thine, and thine, and thine.

and Arthur fell in with her game, and kissed her and clipped her, and then drew his sword and said: By Allhallows I shall smite off her head if she but lay a finger on thee.

So they played like two happy children till they came to the door of the house, and Birdalone shoved it open, and they two looked in together and saw nought worse therein save the strange shadows that the moon cast from the settle on to the floor.

Then Birdalone drew in her love, and went about lighting the candles and quickening a little cooking fire on the hearth, till the yellow light chased the moon away from the bed of their desire.