CHAPTER XXII. OF THE WOODLAND BRIDE-CHAMBER.

They rode in silence a good way, and it was some three hours after noon,

and the day as fair and bright as might be. Christopher held his peace

for sweet shame that he was alone with a most fair maid, and she his

own, and without defence against him. But she amidst of her silence

turned, now red, and now somewhat pale, and now and again she looked

somewhat askance on him, and he deemed her looks were no kinder than

they should be.

At last she spake, yet not looking on him, and said: "So, Forester,

now is done what I must needs do: thy life is saved, and I am quit of

Greenharbour, and its prison, and its torments: whither away then?"

Quoth he, all dismayed, for her voice was the voice of anger: "I wot

not whither, save to the house thou hast blessed already with thy dear

body."

At that word she turned quite pale, and trembled, and spake not for a

while, and smote her horse and hastened on the way, and he after her;

but when he was come up with her again, then she said, still not

looking at him: "A house of woodmen and wolf-heads. Is that a meet

dwelling-place for me? Didst thou hear men at Greenharbour say that I am

a Queen?"

"Hear them I did," quoth he; "but meseemeth nought like a Queen had they

done with thee."

She said: "And dost thou mock me with that? thou?" And she burst out

weeping. He answered not, for sore grief smote him, remembering her hand

in his but a little while ago. And again she hurried on, and he followed

her.

When he came up with her she said: "And thou, didst thou woo me as a

Queen?"

"Lady," he said, "I wooed thee not at all; I was given to thee, would I,

would I not: great joy was that to me."

Then said she: "Thou sayest sooth, thou hast not wooed me, but taken

me." She laughed therewith, as one in bitterness. But presently she

turned to him, and he wondered, for in her face was longing and kindness

nought like to her words. But he durst not speak to her lest he should

anger her, and she turned her face from him again: and she said: "Wert

thou given to me? meseems I was given to thee, would I, would I not; the

Queen to the Churl, the Wood-man, the Wolf-head." And again she rode on,

and he followed, sick at heart and wondering sorely.

When they were riding together again, they spake not to each other,

though she stole glances at him to see how he fared; but he rode on with

knit brows and a stern countenance. So in a while she began to speak to

him again, but as if there were nought but courtesy between them, and

neither love nor hatred. She fell to asking him of woodland matters,

concerning bird and beast and things creeping; and at first he would

scarce answer her at all, and then were his answers short; but at last,

despite of all, he began to forget both grief and anger, so much the

sweetness of her speech wound about his heart; and, withal, she fell to

asking him of his fellows and their life in the woods, and of Jack of

the Tofts and the like; and now he answered her questions fully, and

whiles she laughed at his words, and he laughed also; and all pleasure

had there been of this converse, if he had not beheld her from time to

time and longed for the fairness of her body, and feared her wrath at

his longing.

So wore the day, and the sun was getting low, and they were come to

another woodland pool which was fed by a clear-running little brook,

and up from it went a low bank of greensward exceeding sweet, and

beyond that oak trees wide-branched and great, and still fair greensward

beneath them and hazel-thicket beyond them. There, then, Goldilind

reined up, and looked about her, but Christopher looked on her and

nought else. But she said: "Let to-morrow bring counsel; but now am I

weary to-night, and if we are not to ride night-long, we shall belike

find no better place to rest in. Wilt thou keep watch while I sleep?"

"Yea," he said, bowing his head to her soberly; and therewith he got

off his horse, and would have helped her down from hers, but she slipped

lightly down and stood before him face to face, and they were very nigh

to each other, she standing close to her horse. Her face was pale to

his deeming and there was a piteous look in her eyes, so that he yearned

towards her in his bowels, and reached his hand toward her; but she

shrank aback, leaning against her horse, and said in a trembling voice,

looking full at him, and growing yet paler: "Forester, dost thou think

it seemly that thou shouldst ride with us, thou such as thou hast told

thyself to be, in this lordly raiment, which they gave thee yonder as

part of the price for thy leading us away into the wild-wood?"

"Lady," said he, "whether it be seemly or not, I see that it is thy will

that I should go clad as a woodland churl; abide a little, and thy will

shall be done."

Therewith he did off the burden from the sumpter horse, and set the

chests on the earth; then he took her horse gently, and led him with

the other two in under the oak trees, and there he tethered them so that

they could bite the grass; and came back thereafter, and took his old

raiment out of the chest, and said: "What thou wilt have me do, I

will do now; and this all the more as to-morrow I should have done it

unbidden, and should have prayed thee to do on garments less glorious

than now thou bearest; so that we may look the less strange in the

woodland if we chance to fall in with any man."

Nought she answered as he turned toward the hazel copse; she had been

following him with her eyes while he was about that business, and when

his back was turned, she stood a moment till her bosom fell a-heaving,

and she wept; then she turned her about to the chest wherein was her

raiment, and went hastily and did off her glorious array, and did on the

green gown wherewith she had fled, and left her feet bare withal.

Then she looked up and saw Christopher, how he was coming from out the

hazel-thicket new clad in his old raiment, and she cried out aloud, and

ran toward him. But he doubted that some evil had betid, and that she

was chased; so he drew out his sword; but she ran up to him and cried

out: "Put up thy sword, here is none save me."

But he stood still, gazing on her in wonderment, and now she was drawn

near to him she stood still before him, panting. Then he said: "Nay,

Lady, for this night there was no need of thy disguising thee, to-morrow

it had been soon enough."

She said: "I were fain if thou wouldst take my hand, and lead me back to

our resting-place."

Even so he did, and as their palms met he felt how her hand loved him,

and a flood of sweetness swept over his heart, and made an end of all

its soreness. But he led her quietly back again to their place. Then she

turned to him and said: "Now art thou the woodland god again, and the

courtier no more; so now will I worship thee." And she knelt down before

him, and embraced his knees and kissed them; but he drew her up to him,

and cast his arms about her, and kissed her face many times, and said:

"Now art thou the poor captive again."

She said: "Now hast thou forgiven me; but I will tell thee that my

wilfulness and folly was not all utterly feigned; though when I was

about it I longed for thee to break it down with the fierceness of a

man, and bid me look to it how helpless I was, and thou how strong and

my only defence. Not utterly feigned it was: for I will say it, that

I was grieved to the heart when I bethought me of Meadhamstead and the

seat of my fathers. What sayest thou then? Shalt thou be ever a woodman

in these thickets, and a follower of Jack of the Tofts? If so thou wilt,

it is well."

He took her by the shoulders and bent her backwards to kiss her, and

held her up above the earth in his arms, waving her this way and that,

till she felt how little and light she was in his grasp, though she was

no puny woman; then he set her on her feet again, and laughed in her

face, and said: "Sweetling, let to-morrow bring counsel. But now let it

all be: thou hast said it, thou art weary; so now will I dight thee a

bed of our mantles, and thou shalt lie thee down, and I shall watch thee

as thou badest me."

Therewith he went about, and plucked armfuls of the young bracken, and

made a bed wide and soft, and spread the mantles thereover.

But she stood awhile looking on him; then she said: "Dost thou think

to punish me for my wilful folly, and to shame me by making me speak to

thee?"

"Nay," he said, "it is not so."

She said: "I am not shamed in that I say to thee: if thou watch this

night, I will watch by thee; and if I lie down to rest this night, thou

shalt lie by me. For my foemen have given me to thee, and now shalt thou

give thyself to me."

So he drew near to her shyly, like unto one who hath been forgiven. And

there was their bridal bed, and nought but the oak boughs betwixt them

and the bare heavens.

Child Christopher and Goldilind the Fair · 第 22 / 38 章