But on the morrow the men arose, and the Sea-eagle and his damsel came to
Hallblithe; for the other two damsels were departed, and the Sea-eagle
said to him:
"Here am I well honoured and measurelessly happy; and I have a message
for thee from the King."
"What is it?" said Hallblithe; but he deemed that he knew what it would
be, and he reddened for the joy of his assured hope.
Said the Sea-eagle: "Joy to thee, O shipmate! I am to take thee to the
place where thy beloved abideth, and there shalt thou see her, but not so
as she can see thee; and thereafter shalt thou go to the King, that thou
mayst tell him if she shall accomplish thy desire."
Then was Hallblithe glad beyond measure, and his heart danced within him,
and he deemed it but meet that the others should be so joyous and blithe
with him, for they led him along without any delay, and were glad at his
rejoicing; and words failed him to tell of his gladness.
But as he went, the thoughts of his coming converse with his beloved
curled sweetly round his heart, so that scarce anything had seemed so
sweet to him before; and he fell a-pondering what they twain, he and the
Hostage, should do when they came together again; whether they should
abide on the Glittering Plain, or go back again to Cleveland by the Sea
and dwell in the House of the Kindred; and for his part he yearned to
behold the roof of his fathers and to tread the meadow which his scythe
had swept, and the acres where his hook had smitten the wheat. But he
said to himself, "I will wait till I hear her desire hereon."
Now they went into the wood at the back of the King's pavilion and
through it, and so over the hill, and beyond it came into a land of hills
and dales exceeding fair and lovely; and a river wound about the dales,
lapping in turn the feet of one hill-side or the other; and in each dale
(for they passed through two) was a goodly house of men, and tillage
about it, and vineyards and orchards. They went all day till the sun was
near setting, and were not weary, for they turned into the houses by the
way when they would, and had good welcome and meat and drink and what
they would of the folk that dwelt there. Thus anigh sunset they came
into a dale fairer than either of the others, and nigh to the end where
they had entered it was an exceeding goodly house. Then said the damsel:
"We are nigh-hand to our journey's end; let us sit down on the grass by
this river-side whilst I tell thee the tale which the King would have
thee know."
So they sat down on the grass beside the brimming river, scant two
bowshots from that fair house, and the damsel said, reading from a scroll
which she drew from her bosom:
"O Spearman, in yonder house dwelleth the woman foredoomed to love thee:
if thou wouldst see her, go thitherward, following the path which turneth
from the river-side by yonder oak-tree, and thou shalt presently come to
a thicket of bay-trees at the edge of an apple-orchard, whose trees are
blossoming; abide thou hidden by the bay-leaves, and thou shalt see
maidens come into the orchard, and at last one fairer than all the
others. This shall be thy love fore-doomed, and none other; and thou
shalt know her by this token, that when she hath set her down on the
grass beside the bay-tree, she shall say to her maidens 'Bring me now the
book wherein is the image of my beloved, that I may solace myself with
beholding it before the sun goes down and the night cometh.'"
Now Hallblithe was troubled when she read out these words, and he said:
"What is this tale about a book? I know not of any book that lieth
betwixt me and my beloved."
"O Spearman," said the damsel, "I may tell thee no more, because I know
no more. But keep up thine heart! For dost thou know any more than I do
what hath befallen thy beloved since thou wert sundered from her? and why
should not this matter of the book be one of the things that hath
befallen her? Go now with joy, and come again blessing us."
"Yea, go, faring-fellow," said the Sea-eagle, "and come back joyful, that
we may all be merry together. And we will abide thee here."
Hallblithe foreboded evil, but he held his peace and went his ways down
the path by the oak-tree; and they abode there by the water-side, and
were very merry talking of this and that (but no whit of Hallblithe), and
kissing and caressing each other; so that it seemed but a little while to
them ere they saw Hallblithe coming back by the oak-tree. He went
slowly, hanging his head like a man sore-burdened with grief: thus he
came up to them, and stood there above them as they lay on the fragrant
grass, and he saying no word and looking so sad and sorry, and withal so
fell, that they feared his grief and his anger, and would fain have been
away from him; so that they durst not ask him a question for a long
while, and the sun sank below the hill while they abided thus.
Then all trembling the damsel spake to the Sea-eagle: "Speak to him, dear
friend, else must I flee away, for I fear his silence."
Quoth the Sea-eagle: "Shipmate and friend, what hath betided? How art
thou? May we hearken, and mayhappen amend it?"
Then Hallblithe cast himself adown on the grass and said: "I am accursed
and beguiled; and I wander round and round in a tangle that I may not
escape from. I am not far from deeming that this is a land of dreams
made for my beguiling. Or has the earth become so full of lies, that
there is no room amidst them for a true man to stand upon his feet and go
his ways?"
Said the Sea-eagle: "Thou shalt tell us of what hath betid, and so ease
the sorrow of thy soul if thou wilt. Or if thou wilt, thou shalt nurse
thy sorrow in thine heart and tell no man. Do what thou wilt; am I not
become thy friend?"
Said Hallblithe: "I will tell you twain the tidings, and thereafter ask
me no more concerning them. Hearken. I went whereas ye bade me, and hid
myself in the bay-tree thicket; and there came maidens into the
blossoming orchard and made a resting-place with silken cushions close to
where I was lurking, and stood about as though they were looking for some
one to come. In a little time came two more maidens, and betwixt them
one so much fairer than any there, that my heart sank within me: whereas
I deemed because of her fairness that this would be the fore-doomed love
whereof ye spake, and lo, she was in nought like to my troth-plight
maiden, save that she was exceeding beauteous: nevertheless, heart-sick
as I was, I determined to abide the token that ye told me of. So she lay
down amidst those cushions, and I beheld her that she was sad of
countenance; and she was so near to me that I could see the tears welling
into her eyes, and running down her cheeks; so that I should have grieved
sorely for her had I not been grieving so sorely for myself. For
presently she sat up and said 'O maiden, bring me hither the book wherein
is the image of my beloved, that I may behold it in this season of sunset
wherein I first beheld it; that I may fill my heart with the sight
thereof before the sun is gone and the dark night come.'
"Then indeed my heart died within me when I wotted that this was the love
whereof the King spake, that he would give to me, and she not mine own
beloved, yet I could not choose but abide and look on a while, and she
being one that any man might love beyond measure. Now a maiden went away
into the house and came back again with a book covered with gold set with
gems; and the fair woman took it and opened it, and I was so near to her
that I saw every leaf clearly as she turned the leaves. And in that book
were pictures of many things, as flaming mountains, and castles of war,
and ships upon the sea, but chiefly of fair women, and queens, and
warriors and kings; and it was done in gold and azure and cinnabar and
minium. So she turned the leaves, till she came to one whereon was
pictured none other than myself, and over against me was the image of
mine own beloved, the Hostage of the Rose, as if she were alive, so that
the heart within me swelled with the sobbing which I must needs refrain,
which grieved me like a sword-stroke. Shame also took hold of me as the
fair woman spoke to my painted image, and I lying well-nigh within touch
of her hand; but she said: 'O my beloved, why dost thou delay to come to
me? For I deemed that this eve at least thou wouldst come, so many and
strong as are the meshes of love which we have cast about thy feet. Oh
come to-morrow at the least and latest, or what shall I do, and wherewith
shall I quench the grief of my heart? Or else why am I the daughter of
the Undying King, the Lord of the Treasure of the Sea? Why have they
wrought new marvels for me, and compelled the Ravagers of the Coasts to
serve me, and sent false dreams flitting on the wings of the night? Yea,
why is the earth fair and fruitful, and the heavens kind above it, if
thou comest not to-night, nor to-morrow, nor the day after? And I the
daughter of the Undying, on whom the days shall grow and grow as the
grains of sand which the wind heaps up above the sea-beach. And life
shall grow huger and more hideous round about the lonely one, like the
ling-worm laid upon the gold, that waxeth thereby, till it lies all
around about the house of the queen entrapped, the moveless unending ring
of the years that change not.'
"So she spake till the weeping ended her words, and I was all abashed
with shame and pale with anguish. I stole quietly from my lair unheeded
of any, save that one damsel said that a rabbit ran in the hedge, and
another that a blackbird stirred in the thicket. Behold me, then, that
my quest beginneth again amidst the tangle of lies whereinto I have been
entrapped."