The Story of the Glittering Plain
W >>
William Morris >> The Story of the Glittering Plain
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 | 6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10
Then he went up into that fair country of the dales, and even anigh
to where dwelt the King's Daughter, and otherwhere in the land and
everywhere, quartering the realm of the Glittering Plain as the heron
quarters the flooded meadow when the waters draw aback into the
river. So that now all people knew him when he came, and they
wondered at him; but when he came to any house for the third or
fourth time, they wearied of him, and were glad when he departed.
Ever it was one of two answers that he had: either folk said to him,
"There is no such woman; this land is happy, and nought but happy
people dwell herein;" or else they told him of the woman who lived in
sorrow, and was ever looking on a book, that she might bring to her
the man whom she desired.
Whiles he wearied and longed for death, but would not die until there
was no corner of the land unsearched. Whiles he shook off weariness,
and went about his quest as a craftsman sets about his work in the
morning. Whiles it irked him to see the soft and merry folk of the
land, who had no skill to help him, and he longed for the house of
his fathers and the men of the spear and the plough; and thought,
"Oh, if I might but get me back, if it were but for an hour and to
die there, to the meadows of the Raven, and the acres beneath the
mountains of Cleveland by the Sea. Then at least should I learn some
tale of what is or what hath been, howsoever evil the tidings were,
and not be bandied about by lies for ever."
CHAPTER XV: YET HALLBLITHE SPEAKETH WITH THE KING
So wore the days and the moons; and now were some six moons worn
since first he came to the Glittering Plain; and he was come to Wood-
end again, and heard and knew that the King was sitting once more in
the door of his pavilion to hearken to the words of his people, and
he said to himself: "I will speak yet again to this man, if indeed
he be a man; yea, though he turn me into stone."
And he went up toward the pavilion; and on the way it came into his
mind what the men of the kindred were doing that morning; and he had
a vision of them as it were, and saw them yoking the oxen to the
plough, and slowly going down the acres, as the shining iron drew the
long furrow down the stubble-land, and the light haze hung about the
elm-trees in the calm morning, and the smoke rose straight into the
air from the roof of the kindred. And he said: "What is this? am I
death-doomed this morning that this sight cometh so clearly upon me
amidst the falseness of this unchanging land?"
Thus he came to the pavilion, and folk fell back before him to the
right and the left, and he stood before the King, and said to him:
"I cannot find her; she is not in thy land."
Then spake the King, smiling upon him, as erst: "What wilt thou
then? Is it not time to rest?"
He said: "Yea, O King; but not in this land."
Said the King: "Where else than in this land wilt thou find rest?
Without is battle and famine, longing unsatisfied, and heart-burning
and fear; within it is plenty and peace and good will and pleasure
without cease. Thy word hath no meaning to me."
Said Hallblithe: "Give me leave to depart, and I will bless thee."
"Is there nought else to do?" said the King.
"Nought else," said Hallblithe.
Therewith he felt that the King's face changed though he still smiled
on him, and again he felt his heart grow cold before the King.
But the King spake and said: "I hinder not thy departure, nor will
any of my folk. No hand will be raised against thee; there is no
weapon in all the land, save the deedless sword by my side and the
weapons which thou bearest."
Said Hallblithe: "Dost thou not owe me a joy in return for my
beguiling?"
"Yea," said the King, "reach out thine hand to take it."
"One thing only may I take of thee," said Hallblithe; "my troth-
plight maiden or else the speeding of my departure."
Then said the King, and his voice was terrible though yet he smiled:
"I will not hinder; I will not help. Depart in peace!"
Then Hallblithe turned away dizzy and half fainting, and strayed down
the field, scarce knowing where he was; and as he went he felt his
sleeve plucked at, and turned about, and lo! he was face to face with
the Sea-eagle, no less joyous than aforetime. He took Hallblithe in
his arms and embraced him and kissed him, and said: "Well met,
faring-fellow! Whither away?"
"Away out of this land of lies," said Hallblithe.
The Sea-eagle shook his head, and quoth he: "Art thou still seeking
a dream? And thou so fair that thou puttest all other men to shame."
"I seek no dream," said Hallblithe, "but rather the end of dreams."
"Well," said the Sea-eagle, "we will not wrangle about it. But
hearken. Hard by in a pleasant nook of the meadows have I set up my
tent; and although it be not as big as the King's pavilion, yet is it
fair enough. Wilt thou not come thither with me and rest thee to-
night; and to-morrow we will talk of this matter?"
Now Hallblithe was weary and confused, and downhearted beyond his
wont, and the friendly words of the Sea-eagle softened his heart, and
he smiled on him and said: "I give thee thanks; I will come with
thee: thou art kind, and hast done nought to me save good from the
time when I first saw thee lying in thy bed in the Hall of the
Ravagers. Dost thou remember the day?"
The Sea-eagle knitted his brow as one striving with a troublous
memory, and said: "But dimly, friend, as if it had passed in an ugly
dream: meseemeth my friendship with thee began when I came to thee
from out of the wood, and saw thee standing with those three damsels;
that I remember full well ye were fair to look on."
Hallblithe wondered at his words, but said no more about it, and they
went together to a flowery nook nigh a stream of clear water where
stood a silken tent, green like the grass which it stood on, and
flecked with gold and goodly colours. Nigh it on the grass lay the
Sea-eagle's damsel, ruddy-cheeked and sweet-lipped, as fair as
aforetime. She turned about when she heard men coming, and when she
saw Hallblithe a smile came into her face like the sun breaking out
on a fair but clouded morning, and she went up to him and took him by
the hands and kissed his cheek, and said: "Welcome, Spearman!
welcome back! We have heard of thee in many places, and have been
sorry that thou wert not glad, and now are we fain of thy returning.
Shall not sweet life begin for thee from henceforward?"
Again was Hallblithe moved by her kind welcome; but he shook his head
and spake: "Thou art kind, sister; yet if thou wouldst be kinder
thou wilt show me a way whereby I may escape from this land. For
abiding here has become irksome to me, and meseemeth that hope is yet
alive without the Glittering Plain."
Her face fell as she answered: "Yea, and fear also, and worse, if
aught be worse. But come, let us eat and drink in this fair place,
and gather for thee a little joyance before thou departest, if thou
needs must depart."
He smiled on her as one not ill-content, and laid himself down on the
grass, while the twain busied themselves, and brought forth fair
cushions and a gilded table, and laid dainty victual thereon and good
wine.
So they ate and drank together, and the Sea-eagle and his mate became
very joyous again, and Hallblithe bestirred himself not to be a mar-
feast; for he said within himself: "I am departing, and after this
time I shall see them no more; and they are kind and blithe with me,
and have been aforetime; I will not make their merry hearts sore.
For when I am gone I shall be remembered of them but a little while."
CHAPTER XVI: THOSE THREE GO THEIR WAYS TO THE EDGE OF THE GLITTERING
PLAIN
So the evening wore merrily; and they made Hallblithe lie in an ingle
of the tent on a fair bed, and he was weary, and slept thereon like a
child. But in the morning early they waked him; and while they were
breaking their fast they began to speak to him of his departure, and
asked him if he had an inkling of the way whereby he should get him
gone, and he said: "If I escape it must needs be by way of the
mountains that wall the land about till they come down to the sea.
For on the sea is no ship and no haven; and well I wot that no man of
the land durst or can ferry me over to the land of my kindred, or
otherwhere without the Glittering Plain. Tell me therefore (and I
ask no more of you), is there any rumour or memory of a way that
cleaveth yonder mighty wall of rock to other lands?"
Said the damsel: "There is more than a memory or a rumour: there is
a road through the mountains known to all men. For at whiles the
earthly pilgrims come into the Glittering Plain thereby; and yet but
seldom, so many are the griefs and perils which beset the wayfarers
on that road. Whereof thou hadst far better bethink thee in time,
and abide here and be happy with us and others who long sore to make
thee happy."
"Nay," said Hallblithe, "there is nought to do but tell me of the
way, and I will depart at once, blessing you."
Said the Sea-eagle: "More than that at least will we do. May I lose
the bliss whereto I have attained, if I go not with thee to the very
edge of the land of the Glittering Plain. Shall it not be so,
sweetheart?"
"Yea, at least we may do that," said the damsel; and she hung her
head as if she were ashamed, and said: "And that is all that thou
wilt get from us at most."
Said Hallblithe: "It is enough, and I asked not so much."
Then the damsel busied herself, and set meat and drink in two
wallets, and took one herself and gave the other to the Sea-eagle,
and said: "We will be thy porters, O Spearman, and will give thee a
full wallet from the last house by the Desert of Dread, for when thou
hast entered therein, thou mayst well find victual hard to come by:
and now let us linger no more since the road is dear to thee."
So they set forth on foot, for in that land men were slow to feel
weariness; and turning about the hill of Wood-end, they passed by
some broken country, and came at even to a house at the entrance of a
long valley, with high and steeply-sloping sides, which seemed, as it
were, to cleave the dale country wherein they had fared aforetime.
At that house they slept well-guested by its folk, and the next
morning took their way down the valley, and the folk of the house
stood at the door to watch their departure; for they had told the
wayfarers that they had fared but a little way thitherward and knew
of no folk who had used that road.
So those three fared down the valley southward all day, ever mounting
higher as they went. The way was pleasant and easy, for they went
over fair, smooth, grassy lawns betwixt the hill-sides, beside a
clear rattling stream that ran northward; at whiles were clumps of
tall trees, oak for the most part, and at whiles thickets of thorn
and eglantine and other such trees: so that they could rest well
shaded when they would.
They passed by no house of men, nor came to any such in the even, but
lay down to sleep in a thicket of thorn and eglantine, and rested
well, and on the morrow they rose up betimes and went on their ways.
This second day as they went, the hill-sides on either hand grew
lower, till at last they died out into a wide plain, beyond which in
the southern offing the mountains rose huge and bare. This plain
also was grassy and beset with trees and thickets here and there.
Hereon they saw wild deer enough, as hart and buck, and roebuck and
swine: withal a lion came out of a brake hard by them as they went,
and stood gazing on them, so that Hallblithe looked to his weapons,
and the Sea-eagle took up a big stone to fight with, being
weaponless; but the damsel laughed, and tripped on her way lightly
with girt-up gown, and the beast gave no more heed to them.
Easy and smooth was their way over this pleasant wilderness, and
clear to see, though but little used, and before nightfall, after
they had gone a long way, they came to a house. It was not large nor
high, but was built very strongly and fairly of good ashlar: its
door was shut, and on the jamb thereof hung a slug-horn. The damsel,
who seemed to know what to do, set her mouth to the horn, and blew a
blast; and in a little while the door was opened, and a big man clad
in red scarlet stood therein: he had no weapons, but was somewhat
surly of aspect: he spake not, but stood abiding the word: so the
damsel took it up and said: "Art thou not the Warden of the
Uttermost House?"
He said: "I am."
Said the damsel: "May we guest here to-night?"
He said: "The house lieth open to you with all that it hath of
victual and plenishing: take what ye will, and use what ye will."
They thanked him; but he heeded not their thanks, and withdrew him
from them. So they entered and found the table laid in a fair hall
of stone carven and painted very goodly; so they ate and drank
therein, and Hallblithe was of good heart, and the Sea-eagle and his
mate were merry, though they looked softly and shyly on Hallblithe
because of the sundering anigh; and they saw no man in the house save
the man in scarlet, who went and came about his business, paying no
heed to them. So when the night was deep they lay down in the shut-
bed off the hall, and slept, and the hours were tidingless to them
until they woke in the morning.
On the morrow they arose and broke their fast, and thereafter the
damsel spake to the man in scarlet and said: "May we fill our
wallets with victual for the way?"
Said the Warden: "There lieth the meat."
So they filled their wallets, while the man looked on; and they came
to the door when they were ready, and he unlocked it to them, saying
no word. But when they turned their faces towards the mountains he
spake at last, and stayed them at the first step. Quoth he:
"Whither away? Ye take the wrong road!"
Said Hallblithe: "Nay, for we go toward the mountains and the edge
of the Glittering Plain."
"Ye shall do ill to go thither," said the Warden, "and I bid you
forbear."
"O Warden of the Uttermost House, wherefore should we forbear?" said
the Sea-eagle.
Said the scarlet man: "Because my charge is to further those who
would go inward to the King, and to stay those who would go outward
from the King."
"How then if we go outward despite thy bidding?" said the Sea-eagle,
"wilt thou then hinder us perforce?"
"How may I," said the man, "since thy fellow hath weapons?"
"Go we forth, then," said the Sea-eagle.
"Yea," said the damsel, "we will go forth. And know, O Warden, that
this weaponed man only is of mind to fare over the edge of the
Glittering Plain; but we twain shall come back hither again, and fare
inwards."
Said the Warden: "Nought is it to me what ye will do when you are
past this house. Nor shall any man who goeth out of this garth
toward the mountains ever come back inwards save he cometh in the
company of new-corners to the Glittering Plain."
"Who shall hinder him?" said the Sea-eagle.
"The KING," said the Warden.
Then there was silence awhile, and the man said:
"Now do as ye will." And therewith he turned back into the house and
shut the door.
But the Sea-eagle and the damsel stood gazing on one another, and at
Hallblithe; and the damsel was downcast and pale; but the Sea-eagle
cried out:
"Forward now, O Hallblithe, since thou willest it, and we will go
with thee and share whatever may befall thee; yea, right up to the
very edge of the Glittering Plain. And thou, O beloved, why dost
thou delay? Why dost thou stand as if thy fair feet were grown to
the grass?"
But the damsel gave a lamentable cry, and cast herself down on the
ground, and knelt before the Sea-eagle, and took him by the knees,
and said betwixt sobbing and weeping: "O my lord and love, I pray
thee to forbear, and the Spearman, our friend, shall pardon us. For
if thou goest, I shall never see thee more, since my heart will not
serve me to go with thee. O forbear! I pray thee!"
And she grovelled on the earth before him; and the Sea-eagle waxed
red, and would have spoken but Hallblithe cut his speech across, and
said "Friends, be at peace! For this is the minute that sunders us.
Get ye back at once to the heart of the Glittering Plain, and live
there and be happy; and take my blessing and thanks for the love and
help that ye have given me. For your going forward with me should
destroy you and profit me nothing. It would be but as the host
bringing his guests one field beyond his garth, when their goal is
the ends of the earth; and if there were a lion in the path, why
should he perish for courtesy's sake?"
Therewith he stooped down to the damsel, and lifted her up and kissed
her face; and he cast his arms about the Sea-eagle and said to him:
"Farewell, shipmate!"
Then the damsel gave him the wallet of victual, and bade him
farewell, weeping sorely; and he looked kindly on them for a moment
of time, and then turned away from them and fared on toward the
mountains, striding with great strides, holding his head aloft. But
they looked no more on him, having no will to eke their sorrow, but
went their ways back again without delay.
CHAPTER XVII: HALLBLITHE AMONGST THE MOUNTAINS
So strode on Hallblithe; but when he had gone but a little way his
head turned, and the earth and heavens wavered before him, so that he
must needs sit down on a stone by the wayside, wondering what ailed
him. Then he looked up at the mountains, which now seemed quite near
to him at the plain's ending, and his weakness increased on him; and
lo! as he looked, it was to him as if the crags rose up in the sky to
meet him and overhang him, and as if the earth heaved up beneath him,
and therewith he fell aback and lost all sense, so that he knew not
what was become of the earth and the heavens and the passing of the
minutes of his life.
When he came to himself he knew not whether he had lain so a great
while or a little; he felt feeble, and for a while he lay scarce
moving, and beholding nought, not even the sky above him. Presently
he turned about and saw hard stone on either side, so he rose wearily
and stood upon his feet, and knew that he was faint with hunger and
thirst. Then he looked around him, and saw that he was in a narrow
valley or cleft of the mountains amidst wan rocks, bare and
waterless, where grew no blade of green; but he could see no further
than the sides of that cleft, and he longed to be out of it that he
might see whitherward to turn. Then he bethought him of his wallet,
and set his hand to it and opened it, thinking to get victual thence;
but lo! it was all spoilt and wasted. None the less, for all his
feebleness, he turned and went toiling slowly along what seemed to be
a path little trodden leading upward out of the cleft; and at last he
reached the crest thereof, and sat him down on a rock on the other
side; yet durst not raise his eyes awhile and look on the land, lest
he should see death manifest therein. At last he looked, and saw
that he was high up amongst the mountain-peaks: before him and on
either hand was but a world of fallow stone rising ridge upon ridge
like the waves of the wildest of the winter sea. The sun not far
from its midmost shone down bright and hot on that wilderness; yet
was there no sign that any man had ever been there since the
beginning of the world, save that the path aforesaid seemed to lead
onward down the stony slope.
This way and that way and all about he gazed, straining his eyes if
perchance he might see any diversity in the stony waste; and at last
betwixt two peaks of the rock-wall on his left hand he descried a
streak of green mingling with the cold blue of the distance; and he
thought in his heart that this was the last he should see of the
Glittering Plain. Then he spake aloud in that desert, and said,
though there was none to hear: "Now is my last hour come; and here
is Hallblithe of the Raven perishing, with his deeds undone and his
longing unfulfilled, and his bridal-bed acold for ever. Long may the
House of the Raven abide and flourish, with many a man and maiden,
valiant and fair and fruitful! O kindred, cast thy blessing on this
man about to die here, doing none otherwise than ye would have him!"
He sat there a little while longer, and then he said to himself:
"Death tarries; were it not well that I go to meet him, even as the
cot-carle preventeth the mighty chieftain?"
Then he arose, and went painfully down the slope, steadying himself
with the shaft of his gleaming spear; but all at once he stopped; for
it seemed to him that he heard voices borne on the wind that blew up
the mountain-side. But he shook his head and said: "Now forsooth
beginneth the dream which shall last for ever; nowise am I beguiled
by it." None the less he strove the more eagerly with the wind and
the way and his feebleness; yet did the weakness wax on him, so that
it was but a little while ere he faltered and reeled and fell down
once more in a swoon.
When he came to himself again he was no longer alone: a man was
kneeling down by him and holding up his head, while another before
him, as he opened his eyes, put a cup of wine to his lips. So
Hallblithe drank and was refreshed; and presently they gave him
bread, and he ate, and his heart was strengthened, and the happiness
of life returned to it, and he lay back, and slept sweetly for a
season.
When he awoke from that slumber he found that he had gotten back much
of his strength again, and he sat up and looked around him, and saw
three men sitting anigh, armed and girt with swords, yet in evil
array, and sore travel-worn. One of these was very old, with long
white hair hanging down; and another, though he was not so much
stricken in years, still looked an old man of over sixty winters.
The third was a man some forty years old, but sad and sorry and
drooping of aspect.
So when they saw him stirring, they all fixed their eyes upon him,
and the oldest man said: "Welcome to him who erst had no tidings for
us!" And the second said: "Tell us now thy tidings." But the
third, the sorry man, cried out aloud, saying: "Where is the Land?
Where is the Land?"
Said Hallblithe: "Meseemeth the land which ye seek is the land which
I seek to flee from. And now I will not hide that meseemeth I have
seen you before, and that was at Cleveland by the Sea when the days
were happier."
Then they all three bowed their heads in yea-say, and spake: "'Where
is the Land? Where is the Land?"
Then Hallblithe arose to his feet, and said: "Ye have healed me of
the sickness of death, and I will do what I may to heal you of your
sickness of sorrow. Come up the pass with me, and I will show you
the land afar off."
Then they arose like young and brisk men, and he led them over the
brow of the ridge into the little valley wherein he had first come to
himself: there he showed them that glimpse of a green land betwixt
the two peaks, which he had beheld e'en now; and they stood a while
looking at it and weeping for joy.
Then spake the oldest of the seekers: "Show us the way to the land."
"Nay," said Hallblithe, "I may not; for when I would depart thence, I
might not go by mine own will, but was borne out hither, I wot not
how. For when I came to the edge of the land against the will of the
King, he smote me, and then cast me out. Therefore since I may not
help you, find ye the land for yourselves, and let me go blessing
you, and come out of this desert by the way whereby ye entered it.
For I have an errand in the world."
Spake the youngest of the seekers: "Now art thou become the yoke-
fellow of Sorrow, and thou must wend, not whither thou wouldst, but
whither she will: and she would have thee go forward toward life,
not backward toward death."
Said the midmost seeker: "If we let thee go further into the
wilderness thou shalt surely die: for hence to the peopled parts,
and the City of Merchants, whence we come, is a month's journey: and
there is neither meat nor drink, nor beast nor bird, nor any green
thing all that way; and since we have found thee famishing, we may
well deem that thou hast no victual. As to us we have but little; so
that if it be much more than three days' journey to the Glittering
Plain, we may well starve and die within sight of the Acre of the
Undying. Nevertheless that little will we share with thee if thou
wilt help us to find that good land; so that thou mayst yet put away
Sorrow, and take Joy again to thy board and bed."
Hallblithe hung his head and answered nought; for he was confused by
the meshes of ill-hap, and his soul grew sick with the bitterness of
death. But the sad man spake again and said: "Thou hast an errand
sayest thou? is it such as a dead man may do?"
Hallblithe pondered, and amidst the anguish of his despair was borne
in on him a vision of the sea-waves lapping the side of a black ship,
and a man therein: who but himself, set free to do his errand, and
his heart was quickened within him, and he said: "I thank you, and I
will wend back with you, since there is no road for me save back
again into the trap."
Pages:
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 | 6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10