Complete Works of William Morris, page 293
So I lifted my eyes and looked, and behold no man struck at another.
Then from out of a band of horsemen came Harald, and he was covered all over with a great scarlet cloth as before, put on over the head, and flowing all about his horse, but rent with the fight. He put off his helm and drew back his mail-coif, then took a trumpet from the hand of a herald and blew strongly.
And in the midst of his blast I heard a voice call out: “O Florian! come and speak to me for the last time!”
So when I turned I beheld Arnald standing by himself, but near him stood Hugh and ten others with drawn swords.
Then I wept, and so went to him weeping; and he said, “Thou seest, brother, that we must die, and I think by some horrible and unheard-of death, and the House of the Lilies is just dying too; and now I repent me of Swanhilda’s death; now I know that it was a poor cowardly piece of revenge, instead of a brave act of justice; thus has God shown us the right.
“O Florian! curse me! So will it be straighter; truly thy mother when she bore thee did not think of this; rather saw thee in the tourney at this time, in her fond hopes, glittering with gold and doing knightly; or else mingling thy brown locks with the golden hair of some maiden weeping for the love of thee. God forgive me! God forgive me!”
“What harm, brother?” I said, “this is only failing in the world; what if we had not failed, in a little while it would have made no difference; truly just now I felt very miserable, but now it has passed away, and I am happy.”
“O brave heart!” he said, “yet we shall part just now, Florian, farewell.”
“The road is long,” I said, “farewell.”
Then we kissed each other, and Hugh and the others wept.
Now all this time the trumpets had been ringing, ringing, great doleful peals, then they ceased, and above all sounded Red Harald’s voice.
(So I looked round towards that pass, and when I looked I no longer doubted any of those wild tales of glamour concerning Goliath’s Land; and for though the rocks were the same, and though the conies still stood gazing at the doors of their dwellings, though the hawks still cried out shrilly, though the fern still shook in the wind, yet beyond, oh such a land! not to be described by any because of its great beauty, lying, a great hollow land, the rocks going down on this side in precipices, then reaches and reaches of loveliest country, trees and flowers, and corn, then the hills, green and blue, and purple, till their ledges reached the white snowy mountains at last. Then with all manner of strange feelings, “my heart in the midst of my body was even like melting wax.”)
“O you House of the Lily! you are conquered yet I will take vengeance only on a few, therefore let all those who wish to live come and pile their swords, and shields, and helms behind me in three great heaps, and swear fealty afterwards to me; yes, all but the false knights Arnald and Florian.”
We were holding each other’s hands and gazing, and we saw all our knights, yea, all but Squire Hugh and his ten heroes, pass over the field singly, or in groups of three or four, with their heads hanging down in shame, and they cast down their notched swords and dinted, lilied shields, and brave-crested helms into three great heaps, behind Red Herald, then stood behind, no man speaking to his fellow, or touching him.
Then dolefully the great trumpets sang over the dying House of the Lily, and Red Harald led his men forward, but slowly: on they came, spear and mail glittering in the sunlight; and I turned and looked at that good land, and a shuddering delight seized my soul.
But I felt my brother’s hand leave mine, and saw him turn his horse’s head and ride swiftly toward the pass; that was a strange pass now.
And at the edge he stopped, turned round and called out aloud, “I pray thee, Harald, forgive mel now farewell all!”
Then the horse gave one bound forward, and we heard the poor creature’s scream when he felt that he must die, and we heard afterwards (for we were near enough for that even) a clang and a crash.
So I turned me about to Hugh, and he understood me though I could not speak.
We shouted all together, “Mary rings,” then laid our bridles on the necks of our horses, spurred forward, and in five minutes they were all slain, and I was down among the horse-hoofs.
Not slain though, not wounded. Red Harald smiled grimly when he saw me rise and lash out again; he and some ten others dismounted, and holding their long spears out, I went back — back, back, I saw what it meant, and sheathed my sword, and their laughter rolled all about me, and I too smiled.
Presently they all stopped, and I felt the last foot of turf giving under my feet; I looked down and saw the crack there widening; then in a moment I fell, and a cloud of dust and earth rolled after me; then again their mirth rose into thunder-peals of laughter. But through it all I heard Red Harald shout, “Silence! Evil dogs!”
For as I fell I stretched out my arms, and caughl a tuft of yellow broom some three feet from the brow, and hung there by the hands, my feet being loose in the air.
Then Red Harald came and stood on the precipice above me, his great axe over his shoulder; and he looked down on me not ferociously, almost kindly, while the wind from the Hollow Land blew about his red raiment, tattered and dusty now.
And I felt happy, though it pained me to hold straining by the broom, yet I said, “I will hold out to the last”
It was not long, the plant itself gave way and I fell, and as I fell I fainted.
CHAPTER III. LEAVING THE WORLD.
Fytte the First.
I had thought when I fell that I should never wake again; but I woke at last: for a long time I was quite dizzied and could see nothing at all: horrible doubts came creeping over me; I half expected to see presently great half-formed shapes come rolling up to me to crush me; some thing fiery, not strange, too utterly horrible to be strange, but utterly vile and ugly, the sight of which would have killed me when I was upon the earth, come rolling up to torment me. In fact I doubted if I were in hell.
I knew I deserved to be, but I prayed, and then it came into my mind that I could not pray if I were in hell.
Also there seemed to be a cool green light all about me, which was sweet. Then presently I heard a glorious voice ring outclear, close to me
Christ keep the Hollow Land
Through the sweet spring-tide,
When the apple-blossoms bless
The lowly bent hill side.”
Thereat my eyes were slowly unsealed, and I saw the blessedest sight I have ever seen before or since: for I saw my Love.
She sat about five yards from me on a great grey stone that had much moss on it, one of the many scattered along the side of the stream by which I lay; she was clad in loose white raiment close to her hands and throat; her feet were bare, her hair hung loose a long way down, but some of it lay on her knees: I said “white” raiment, but long spikes of light scarlet went down from the throat, lost here and there in the shadows of the folds, and growing smaller and smaller, died before they reached her feet.
I was lying with my head resting on soft moss that some one had gathered and placed under me. She, when she saw me moving and awake, came and stood over me with a gracious smile. She was so lovely and tender to look at, and so kind, yet withal no one, man or woman, had ever frightened me half so much.
She was not fair in white and red, like many beautiful women are, being rather pale, but like ivory for smoothness, and her hair was quite golden, not light yellow, but dusky golden.
I tried to get up on my feet, but was too weak, and sank back again. She said:
“No, not just yet, do not trouble yourself or try to remember anything just at present.”
There withal she kneeled down, and hung over me closer.
“To-morrow you may, perhaps, have something hard to do or bear, I know, but now you must be as happy as you can be, quietly happy. Why did you start and turn pale when I came to you? Do you not know who I am? Nay, but you do, I see; and I have been waiting here so long for you; so you must have expected to see me. You cannot be frightened of me, are you?”
But I could not answer a word, but all the time strange knowledge, strange feelings were filling my brain and my heart, she said: “You are tired; rest, and dream happily.”
So she sat by me, and sang to lull me to sleep, while I turned on my elbow, and watched the waving of her throat: and the singing of all the poets I had ever heard, and of many others too, not born till years long after I was dead, floated all about me as she sang, and I did indeed dream happily.
When I awoke it was the time of the cold dawn, and the colours were gathering themselves together, whereat in fatherly approving fashion the sun sent all across the east long bars of scarlet and orange that after faded through yellow to green and blue.
And she sat by me still; I think she had been sitting there and singing all the time; all through hot yesterday, for I had been sleeping day-long and night-long, all through the falling evening under moonlight and starlight the night through.
And now it was dawn, and I think too that neither of us had moved at all; for the last thing I remembered before I went to sleep was the tips of her fingers brushing my cheek, as she knelt over me with downdrooping arm, and still now I felt them there. Moreover she was just finishing some fainting measure that died before it had time to get painful in its passion.
Dear Lord! how I loved her! Yet did I not dare to touch her, or even speak to her. She smiled with delight when she saw I was awake again, and slid down her hand on to mine, but some shuddering dread made me draw it away again hurriedly; then I saw the smile leave her face: what would I not have given for courage to hold her body quite tight to mine? But I was so weak. She said:
“Have you been very happy?”
“Yea,” I said.
It was the first word I had spoken there, and my voice sounded strange.
“Ah!” she said, “you will talk more when you get used to the air of the Hollow Land. Have you been thinking of your past life at all? If not, try to think of it. What thing in Heaven or Earth do you Wish for most?”
Still I said no word; but she said in a wearied way:
“Well now, I think you will be strong enough to get to your feet and walk; take my hand and try.”
Therewith she held it out: I strove hard to be brave enough to take it, but could not; I only turned away shuddering, sick, and grieved to the heart’s core of me; then struggling hard with hand and knee and elbow, I scarce rose, and stood up totteringly; while she watched me sadly, still holding out her hand.
But as I rose, in my swinging to and fro the steel sheath of my sword struck her on the hand so that the blood flowed from it, which she stood looking at for a while, then dropped it downwards, and turned to look at me, for I was going.
Then as I walked she followed me, so I stopped and turned and said almost fiercely:
“I am going alone to look for my brother.”
The vehemence with which I spoke, or something else, burst some blood-vessel within my throat, and we both stood there with the blood running from us on to the grass and summer flowers.
She said: “If you find him, wait with him till I come.”
“Yea,” and I turned and left her, following the course of the stream upwards, and as I went I heard her low singing that almost broke my heart for its sadness.
And I went painfully because of my weakness, and because also of the great stones; and sometimes I went along a spot of earth where the river had been used to flow in flood-time, and which was now bare of everything but stones; and the sun, now risen high, poured down on everything a great flood of fierce light and scorching heat, and burnt me sorely, so that I almost fainted.
But about noontide I entered a wood close by the stream, a beech-wood, intending to rest myself; the herbage was thin and scattered there, sprouting up from amid the leaf-sheaths and nuts of the beeches, which had fallen year after year on that same spot; the outside boughs swept low down, the air itself seemed green when you entered within the shadow of the branches, they over-roofed the place so with tender green, only here and there showing spots of blue.
But what lay at the foot of a great beech tree but some dead knight in armour, only the helmet off? A wolf was prowling round about it, who ran away snarling when he saw me coming.
So I went up to that dead knight, and fell on my knees before him, laying my head on his breast, for it was Arnald.
He was quite cold, but had not been dead for very long; I would not believe him dead, but went down to the stream and brought him water, tried to make him drink-what would you? He was as dead as Swanhilda: neither came there any answer to my cries that afternoon but the moaning of the wood doves in the beeches.
So then I sat down and took his head on my knees, and closed the eyes, and wept quietly while the sun sank lower.
But a little after sunset I heard a rustle through the leaves, that was not the wind, and looking up my eyes met the pitying eyes of that maiden.
Something stirred rebelliously within me; I ceased weeping, and said:
“It is unjust, unfair: What right had Swanhilda to live? Did not God give her up to us? How much better was he than ten Swanhildas? And look you — See! He is DEAD.”
Now this I shrieked out, being mad; and though I trembled when I saw some stormy wrath that vexed her very heart and loving lips, gathering on her face, I yet sat there looking at her and screaming, screaming, till all the place rung.
But when growing hoarse and breathless I ceased; she said, with straitened brow and scornful mouth:
“So! Bravely done! Must I then, though I am a woman, call you a liar, for saying God is unjust? You to punish her, had not God then punished her already? How many times when she woke in the dead night do you suppose she missed seeing King Urrayne’s pale face and hacked head lying on the pillow by her side? Whether by night or day, what things but screams did she hear when the wind blew loud round about the Palace corners? And did not that face too, often come before her, pale and bleeding as it was long ago, and gaze at her from unhappy eyes! Poor eyesi With changed purpose in them- no more hope of converting the world when that blow was once struck, truly it was very wicked-no more dreams, but only fierce struggles with the Devil for very life, no more dreams but failure at last, and death, happier so in the Hollow Land.”
She grew so pitying as she gazed at his dead face that I began to weep again unreasonably, while she saw not that I was weeping, but looked only on Arnald’s face, but after turned on me frowning.
“Unjust! Yes, truly unjust enough to take away life and all hope from her; you have done a base cowardly act, you and your brother here, disguise it as you may; you deserve all God’s judgment — you—”
But I turned my eyes and wet face to her, and said:
“Do not curse me — there — do not look like Swanhilda: for see now, you said at first that you have been waiting long for me, give me your hand now, for I love you so.”
Then she came and knelt by where I sat, and I caught her in my arms and she prayed to be forgiven.
“0, Florian! I have indeed waited long for you, and when I saw you my heart was filled with joy, but you would neither touch me nor speak to me, so that I became almost mad, forgive me, we will be so happy now. 0! do you know this is what I have been waiting for all these years; it made me glad, I know, when I was a little baby in my mother’s arms to think I was born for this; and afterwards, as I grew up, I used to watch every breath of wind through the beech-boughs, every turn of the silver poplar leaves, thinking it might be you or some news of you.”
Then I rose and drew her up with me; but she knelt again by my brother’s side, and kissed him, and said:
“O brother! The Hollow Land is only second best of the places God has made, for Heaven also is the work of His hand.”
Afterwards we dug a deep grave among the beechroots and there we buried Arnald de Liliis.
And I have never seen him since, scarcely even in dreams; surely God has had mercy on him, for he was very leal and true and brave; he loved many men, and was kind and gentle to his friends, neither did he hate any but Swanhilda.
But as for us two, Margaret and me, I cannot tell you concerning our happiness, such things cannot be told; only this I know, that we abode continually in the Hollow Land until I lost it.
Moreover this I can tell you. Margaret was walking with me, as she often walked near the place where I had first seen her; presently we came upon a woman sitting, dressed in scarlet and gold raiment, with her head laid down on her knees; likewise we heard her sobbing.
“Margaret, who is she?” I said: “I knew not that any dwelt in the Hollow Land but us two only.”
She said, “I know not who she is, only sometimes; these many years, I have seen her scarlet robe flaming from far away, amid the quiet green grass: but I was never so near her as this.
Florian, I am afraid: let us come away.”
Fytte the Second.
Such a horrible grey November day it was, the fog-smell all about, the fog creeping into our very bones.
And I sat there, trying to recollect, at any rate something, under those fir-trees that I ought to have known so well.
Just think now; I had lost my best years some- where; for I was past the prime of life, my hair and beard were scattered with white, my body was growing weaker, my memory of all things was very faint.
My raiment, purple and scarlet and blue once, was so stained that you could scarce call it any colour, was so tattered that it scarce covered my body, though it seemed once to have fallen in heavy folds to my feet, and still, when I rose to walk, though the miserable November mist lay in great drops upon my bare breast, yet was I obliged to wind my raiment over my arm, it dragged so (wretched, slimy, textureless thing! ) in the brown mud.
On my head was a light morion, which pressed on my brow and pained me; so I put my hand up to take it ofi; but when I touched it I stood still in my walk shuddering; I nearly fell to the earth with shame and sick horror; for I laid my hand on a lump of Slimy earth with worms coiled up in it I could scarce forbear from shrieking, but breathing such a prayer as I could think of, I raised my hand again and seized it firmly. Worse horror stilll The rust had eaten it into holes, and I gripped my own hair as well as the rotting steel, the sharp edge of which cut into my fingers; but setting my teeth, gave a great wrench, for I knew that if I let go of it then, no power on the earth or under it could make me touch it again. God be praised! I tore it off and cast it far from me; I saw the earth, and the worms and green weeds and sun- begotten slime, whirling out from it radiatingly, as it spun round about.
