OF THE SUNDERING OF BIRDALONE FROM GERARD AND HIS SONS.
Presently were the horses come with Gerard and his sons, and Birdalone
gat to horse amongst them. She was armed in a light hauberk, and over
it a long and loose surcoat that came down beneath the knee of her; and
a sallet she had upon her head, wide but light, so that not very much
of her face was to be seen. She had made up her mind to this tale upon
the road, when she was among folk, that she was under a vow not to do
off her helm for a seven days’ space. Withal she had covered up the
lovely shapeliness of her legs with long boots of deer-leather, and her
surcoat was wide-sleeved; she was well hidden, and whereas she was a
tall and strong woman, she might well pass for a young man, slender and
fair-faced. She was girt with a good sword, and Gerard had gotten her a
strong horseman’s bow and a quiver full of arrows, wherewith, as
aforesaid, she knew well how to deal; wherefore she was by no means
without defence.
So they went their ways through the streets and out-a-gates; and it
must be said, that were not Birdalone’s thoughts turned toward the
Castle of the Quest, and what she should meet there, her heart had been
somewhat sore at leaving the city which had cherished her so well these
years past; nay, as it was, the shadow of the southern gate, as she
past thereunder, smote somewhat cold upon her, and she silently bade
farewell to the City of the Five Crafts with some sorrow, though with
no fear.
Forth they rode then through the frank and up on to the shepherd
country, and whereas their horses were of the best, and they had no
sumpter-beast with them till they came to Upham, where they must needs
have victual, they made but five days of it to the place where the road
turned aside from the country of Mostwyke. There then they drew rein,
and Birdalone lighted down from her horse, and they all, and they lay
upon the grass and ate and drank together.
But when they were done, spake Birdalone and said: Dear friends, this
is the hour and the place when we must needs part; for ye shall go back
again to Five Crafts, and do what I have bidden of you, and do your
will, and wend your ways with your livelihood unto Utterhay. But as for
me, I must go my ways first unto Greenford, and thence to seek my
friends from whom erst I was fleeing when ye first became my friends.
Now perchance ye will say that I have taken you up in my need, and cast
you aside at my pleasure; but I may only say that there be at present
two deals of my life, and of one of them have ye been partakers, and of
the other ye may not be. Forsooth that is a grief unto me, as I suppose
unto you is it a greater one. But unto me also were it heavier but that
my heart tells me it shall not ever be so; for as I said to you some
days agone, I have a hope that we shall yet meet again, be it in
Utterhay or in some other place. And now I pray you to pardon me
wherein I may have done amiss unto you, and begrudge it not that there
be others, who indeed were first-comers in regard to you, and whom I
love better than you; for of your truth and your good-will and
loving-kindness will I bear witness wheresoever I may be.
Then spake Gerard: Do ye speak, my sons; for I have no grudge against
her, nor aught to bewail me as to her, save, it may be, that I am now
so well on in years that it may well befall that I shall not live till
the time of the meeting in Utterhay. But I will pray thee this, dear
lady, that if thou come to the place where I lie dead thou wilt kiss my
burial-stone, and sing due masses for me. Nay, she said, but this is
the worst shall betide betwixt us.
Then spake Robert Gerardson: I am not deft of speech, but this parting
makes me bold to say this: that from the time when first I set eyes on
thee I have loved thee in such wise that never mayst thou love me as
much as I love thee, if thou hast anywhere, as I deem thou hast, a
lover of thy body, whom thou lovest. Now I have seen that for a long
while thou hast known this, and hast ever because of it been as meek
and kind with me as thou mightest be. And this hath partly grieved me
the more, because it hath eked my longing for thee; and yet it hath
comforted me the more, because it hath made me deem better of thee, and
deem thee worthier of worship and holier; therefore have thou all my
blessing for it. And now I know that thou sunderest from us that thou
mayst go seek thy very bodily lover; and I say, that if the sundering
had been for any lighter cause, grieved at heart should I have been;
but since it is even so, once more I bless thee, and ever shall I be
happy in the thought of thee; and if ever we meet again, still shalt
thou find me as now I am in heart and in soul.
She turned to him, not dry-eyed, and said: I know that what thou sayest
is sooth; and thou hast guessed right as to my goings; and I take thy
blessing with love and joy.
Then were they silent; but Giles Gerardson was struggling with words,
for he was slow to speech; at last he said: I say much as saith my
brother: but see thou, our lady, how ill it had gone if thou hadst
loved one of us with an equal love; woe worth the strife then! But now
I will crave this of thee, that thou kiss me on the lips, now whenas we
part; and again, that thou wilt do as much when first we meet again
hereafter. And I tell thee right out, that if thou gainsay this, I
shall deem it unfriendly in thee, and that those lovely words which
thou didst speak e’en now were but words alone, and that thou art not
as true as I have deemed thee.
She laughed amidst her tears, and said: Dear lad, doom me not till I
have been found guilty! I shall nowise naysay thee this, for I love
thee, and now and ever shalt thou be unto me as a brother, thou and
Robert also; for even so have ye done by me. But thou wottest, dear
lad, that whiles and again must sister sunder from brother, and even so
it has to be now.
Then they sat silent all four; and thereafter Birdalone arose and did
off her sallet, and kissed and embraced Gerard and his sons, and bade
them farewell, and she and the young men wept. Then she armed herself
and gat to horse, and went her ways towards Greenford, having nought
with her but the raiment and arms that her body bore, and her horse,
and some gold pieces and gems in a little pouch. So rode she; and the
others turned back sadly toward the Five Crafts.