The World of Romance: being Contributions to The Oxford and Cambridge Magazine, 1856Morris, William
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The World of Romance: being Contributions to The Oxford and Cambridge Magazine, 1856
Morris, William
Middle Ages -- Fiction; Tales
and so I went on, thinking too at times about the man who was dying and
whom I was soon to see: he had been a bold bad plundering baron, but was
said lately to have altered his way of life, having seen a miracle or
some such thing; he had departed to keep a tournament near his castle
lately, but had been brought back sore wounded, so this drunken servant,
with some difficulty and much unseasonable merriment, had made me
understand, and now lay at the point of death, brought about by unskilful
tending and such like. Then I thought of his face--a bad face, very bad,
retreating forehead, small twinkling eyes, projecting lower jaw; and such
a voice, too, he had! like the grunt of a bear mostly.
Now don't you think it strange that this face should be the same,
actually the same as the face of my enemy, slain that very day ten years
ago? I did not hate him, either that man or the baron, but I wanted to
see as little of him as possible, and I hoped that the ceremony would
soon be over, and that I should be at liberty again.
And so with these thoughts and many others, but all thought strangely
double, we went along, the varlet being too drunk to take much notice of
me, only once, as he was singing some doggrel, like this, I think, making
allowances for change of language and so forth:
The Duke went to Treves
On the first of November;
His wife stay'd at Bonn--
Let me see, I remember;
When the Duke came back
To look for his wife,
We came from Cologne,
And took the Duke's life;
We hung him mid high
Between spire and pavement,
From their mouths dropp'd the cabbage
Of the carles in amazement.
"Boo--hoo! Church rat! Church mouse! Hilloa, Priest! have you brought
the pyx, eh?"
From some cause or other he seemed to think this an excellent joke, for
he almost shrieked with laughter as we went along; but by this time we
had reached the castle. Challenge, and counter-challenge, and we passed
the outermost gate and began to go through some of the courts, in which
stood lime trees here and there, growing green tenderly with that
Maytime, though the north wind bit so keenly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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