Next she saw that all that company, from the great folk on the dais
down to those who stood about the hall to do the service, were women,
one and all; not one carle might she see from where she stood: lovely
were they many of them, and none less than comely; their cheeks were
bright, and their eyes gleamed, and their hair flowed down fair of
fashion. And she stood, and durst not move a long while, but expected
when someone would speak a word, and all should turn their heads toward
the new-comer. But none moved nor spake. And the fear increased in her
amidst that hush, and weighed so heavy on her heart, that at last she
might endure it no longer, but fell swooning to the floor.
When she came to herself; and the swoon-dreams had left her, she saw by
the changing of the sun through the hall-windows, that she had lain
there long, more nearly two hours than one; and at first she covered
her face with her hands as she crouched there, that she might not see
the sight of the silent hall, for yet was it as hushed as before. Then
slowly she arose, and the sound of her raiment and her stirring feet
was loud in her ears. But when she was upright on her feet, she
hardened her heart, and went forth into the hall, and no less was her
wonder than erst. For when she came close to those ladies as they sat
at table, and her raiment brushed the raiment of the serving-women as
she passed by, then saw she how no breath came from any of these, and
that they neither spake nor moved, because they were dead.
At first, then, she thought to flee away at once, but again she had
mind of her errand, and so went up the hall, and so forth on to the
dais; and there again, close by the high table, she saw new tidings.
For there was set a bier, covered with gold and pall, and on it was
laid a tall man, a king, belted and crowned; and beside the said bier,
by the head of the king, knelt a queen of exceeding goodly body, clad
all in raiment of pearl and bawdekin; and her hands were clasped
together, and her mouth was drawn, and her brow knit with the anguish
of her grief. But athwart the king’s breast lay a naked sword all
bloody; and this Birdalone noted, that whereas the lady was of skin and
hue as if she were alive, the king was yellow as wax, and his cheeks
were shrunken, and his eyes had been closed by the wakers of the dead.
Long Birdalone looked and wondered; and now if her fear were less, her
sorrow was more for all that folk sitting there dead in their ancient
state and pomp. And was not the thought clean out of her head, that yet
they might awake and challenge her, and that she might be made one of
that silent company. Withal she felt her head beginning to fail her,
and she feared that she might swoon again and never waken more, but lie
for ever beside that image of the dead king.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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