Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction
“Pity on thee,” cried the Prince, “if this cheap victory turn thee so
giddy. Goblins!”
Corinius scowled. Corsus chuckled, saying to himself but loud enough
for all to hear, “Goblins, quotha? They were small game had they been
all. Ay, there it is: had they been all.”
The King’s brow was like a foul black cloud. The women held their
breath. But Corsus, blandly insensible of these gathering thunders,
beat time on the table with his cup, drowsily chanting to a most
mournful air:
When birds in water deepe do lie,
And fishes in the air doe flie,
When water burns and fire doth freeze,
And oysters grow as fruits on trees—
A resounding hecup brought him to a full close.
The talk had died down, the lords of Witchland, ill at ease, studying
to wear their faces to the bent of the King’s looks. But Prezmyra
spake, and the music of her voice came like a refreshing shower. “This
song of my Lord Corsus,” she said, “made me hopeful for an answer to a
question in philosophy; but Bacchus, you see, hath ta’en his soul into
Elysium for a season, and I fear me nor truth nor wisdom cometh from
his mouth to-night. And this was my question, whether it be true that
all animals of the land are in their kind in the sea? My Lord Corinius,
or thou, my princely brother, can you resolve me?”
“Why, so it is received, madam,” said La Fireez. “And inquiry will
show thee many pretty instances: as the sea-frog, the sea-fox, the
sea-dog, the sea-horse, the sea-lion, the sea-bear. And I have known
the barbarous people of Esamocia eat of a conserve of sea-mice mashed
and brayed in a mortar with the flesh of that beast named _bos
marinus_, seasoned with salt and garlic.”
“Foh! speak to me somewhat quickly,” cried the Lady Sriva, “ere in
imagination I taste such nasty meat. Prithee, yonder gold peaches and
raisins of the sun as an antidote.”
“Lord Gro will instruct thee better than I,” said La Fireez. “For my
part, albeit I think nobly of philosophy, yet have I little leisure
to study it. Oft have I hunted the badger, yet never answered that
question of the doctors whether he hath the legs of one side shorter
than of the other. Neither know I, for all the lampreys I have eat, how
many eyes the lamprey hath, whether it be nine or two.”
Prezmyra smiled: “O my brother, thou art too too smoored, I fear me,
in the dust of action and the field to be at accord with these nice
searchings. But be there birds under the sea, my Lord Gro?”
Gro made answer, “In rivers, certainly, though it be but birds of the
air sojourning for a season. As I myself have found them in Outer
Impland, asleep in winter time at the bottom of lakes and rivers, two
together, mouth to mouth, wing to wing. But in the spring they revive
again, and by and by are the woods full of their singing. And for the
sea, there be true sea-cuckows, sea-thrushes, and sea-sparrows, and
many more.”
“It is passing strange,” said Zenambria.
Corsus sang:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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