, 
 
 
 * 
 
 i. 
 

THE HOLLOW LAND A ROMANCE BY 
 WILLIAM MORRIS REPRINTED FROM 
 THE OXFORD & CAMBRIDGE MAGAZINE 
 


 BY WILLIAM 
 "MORRIS 
 
 ''tec- 
 
NOTE 
 
 LIKE Lamb, "William Morris loved a former time 
 more than his own, & indulged himself in dreams 
 of a day five centuries dead. To read c 'The Hollow Land" 
 is to wander in a country of pale visions, where all the 
 colors seem faded with age ; a country of noiseless strife, 
 where even the sound of swords and battle-axes upon 
 helm and buckler, seem dulled with time and distance : 
 even when "Mary rings" and "the earth shakes," one 
 feels that all the tumult and the shouting has died long 
 ago, and that the armed figures gathering at the sound 
 are but ghosts hurrying to and fro in aland of no reality 
 other than that of a poet's fancy. ^Morris has no kinship 
 with the modern breed of writers who profess to restore 
 to us those former days as they once were days whose 
 true character could have been drawn only by men long 
 dead; no historic motive animates him, no spirit of the 
 antiquary : he professes himself a fc fc dreamer of dreams; " 
 and there is no way of knowing nor is it important to 
 know how much he projected into those distant times 
 
8 his own feeling of what romance might have been. The 
 feuds fought, the revenges accomplished, the loves won, 
 all in the picturesque setting of a time gay in the color 
 of chivalry, these were the things he saw- in the light 
 seen only by a poet. * fc The Hollow Land " was written 
 when Morris was but 22 years of age, and was the be* 
 ginning of his effort to work out a literary ^tyle with 
 what power lay within him; a iftyle he made what he 
 did others in other arts, a thing of fullest beauty. The 
 title, it has been suggested, was inspired by the passage 
 in Rossettf s "Hand and Soul" where Chiaro is spoken 
 of as "one jui^l out of a dusk, hollow country, bewilder" 
 ed with echoes" such a country as the poet's spirit 
 delighted to wander in; a country whose shadowy hills 
 he opens to us in the introduction to "The Earthly Para* 
 lse. 
 
 "Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time, 
 
 Why should I strive to set the crooked iftraight? 
 Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme 
 Beats with light wing against the ivory gate, 
 Telling a tale not too importunate 
 To those who in the sleepy region &ay, 
 c Lulled by the singer of an empty day." ^ 
 
 C. L. H. 
 
(5tic Mollovo %axi6 
 
 We find in ancient iftory wonders many told, 
 Of heroes in great glory, with spirit free and bold; 
 Of joyances and high'tides, of weeping and of woe, 
 Of noble recken striving, mote ye now wonders know. 
 Niebelungen Lied (See Carlyles Miscellanies). 
 
 
 CHAPTER I-STRUGGLING IN THE WORLD 
 
 O you know where it is 
 the Hollow Land? 01 have 
 been looking for it now so 
 long, trying to find it again 
 the Hollow Land for 
 there I saw my love fir^t. 
 I wish to tell you how I 
 found it firift of all; but I am 
 old, my memory fails me: 
 you mu^t wait and let me 
 think if I perchance can tell you how it happened. & Yea, 
 in my ears is a confused noise of trumpet'bla^ts singing 
 over desolate moors, in my ears and eyes a clashing and 
 clanging of horse*hoofs, a ringing and glittering of teel; 
 
 b 
 
io drawn*back lips, set teeth, shouts, shrieks, and curses. 
 ^Howwas it that no one of us ever found it till that day? 
 for it is near our country: but what time have we to 
 look for it, or any other good thing; with such biting 
 carking cares hemming us in on every side cares about 
 great things mighty things: mighty things, O my broth* 
 ers ! or rather little things enough, if we only knew it. 
 ^Lives pa^t in turmoil, in making one another unhappy; 
 in bitterest misunderstanding of our brothers' hearts, 
 making those sad whom God has not made sad, alas! 
 alas ! what chance for any of us to find the Hollow Land? 
 what time even to look for it ? 0Yet who has not dreamed 
 of it? Who, half miserable yet the while, for that he 
 knows it is but a dream, has not felt the cool waves 
 round his feet, the roses crowning him, and through the 
 leaves of beech and lime the many whispering winds 
 of the Hollow Land ? Now, my name was Florian, and 
 my house was the house of the Lilies; & of that house 
 was my father Lord, and after him my eldest brother 
 Arnald: and me they called Florian de Liliis. $?More* 
 over, when my father was dead, there arose a feud be* 
 tween the Lilies' house and Red Harald; and this that 
 follows is the history of it. $?Lady Swanhilda, Red Har* 
 aid's mother, was a widow, with one son, Red Harald; 
 and when she had been in widowhood two years, being 
 
of princely blood, and besides comely and fierce, King n 
 Urraynes sent to demand her in marriage. And I re* 
 member seeing the procession leaving the town, when 
 I was quite a child; and many young knights & squires 
 attended the Lady Swanhilda as pages, & amongst them 
 Arnald, my eldest brother. ? And as I gazed out of the 
 window, I saw him walking by the side of her horse, 
 dressed in white & gold very delicately; but as he went 
 it chanced that he stumbled. Now he was one of those 
 that held a golden canopy over the lady's head, so that 
 it now- sunk into wrinkles, and the lady had to bow- her 
 head full low, and even then the gold brocade caught in 
 one o the long, slim gold flowers that were wrought 
 round about the crown she wore. She flushed up in her 
 rage, & her smooth face went suddenly into the carven 
 wrinkles of a wooden waterspout, and she caught at 
 the brocade with her left hand, & pulled it away furious* 
 ly, so that the warp and woof were twisted out of their 
 places, and many gold threads were left dangling about 
 the crown; but Swanhilda stared about when she rose, 
 then smote my brother across the mouth with her gilded 
 sceptre, and the red blood flowed all about his garments ; 
 yet he only turned exceedingly pale, and dared say no 
 word, though he was heir to the house of the Lilies: but 
 my small heart swelled with rage, & I vowed revenge, 
 
12 and, as it seems, he did too. $?So when Swanhilda had 
 been queen three years, she suborned many of King 
 Urrayne's knights and lords, and slew her husband as 
 he slept, and reigned in his gtead. And her son, Harald, 
 grew up to manhood, and was counted a strong knight, 
 and well spoken of, by then I fir^l put on my armour. 
 $?Then, one night, as I lay dreaming, I felt a hand laid 
 on my face, and starting up saw Arnald before me fully 
 armed. He said, "Florian, rise and arm." I did so, all but 
 my helm, as he was. $?He kissed me on the forehead; 
 his lips felt hot and dry; and when they brought torches, 
 and I could see his face plainly, I saw he -was very pale. 
 He said : fc Do you remember, Florian, this day sixteen 
 years ago ? It is a long time, but I shall never forget it un* 
 less this night blots out its memory." I knew what he 
 meant, and because my heart was wicked, I rejoiced ex* 8 
 ceedingly at the thought of vengeance, so that I could 
 not speak, but only laid my palm across his lips . fc ' Good ; 
 you have a good memory, Florian. See now, I waited 
 long and long : I said at fir^l, I forgive her; but when the 
 news came concerning the death of the king, and how 
 that she was shameless, I said I will take it as a sign, if 
 God does not punish her within certain years, that He 
 means me to do so ; and I have been watching and watch* 
 ing now these two years for an opportunity, and behold 
 
it has come at la^t; and I think God has certainly given 13 
 her into our hands, for she reikis this night, this very 
 Chriiftmas Eve, at a small walled town on the frontier, 
 not two hours' gallop from this; they keep little ward 
 there, and the night is wild : moreover, the prior of a cer* 
 tain house of monks, juift without the walls, is my fa^l 
 friend in this matter, for she has done him some great 
 injury. In the courtyard below, a hundred & fifty knights 
 and squires, all faithful and true, are waiting for us: one 
 moment and we shall be gone." $?Then we both knelt 
 down, and prayed God to give her into our hands : we 
 put on our helms, and went down into the courtyard. 
 It was the fir^l time I expedted to use a sharp sword 
 in anger, and I was full of joy as the muffled thunder of 
 our horse*hoofs rolled through the bitter winter night. 
 
 In about an hour and a half we had crossed the frontier, 
 and in half an hour more the greater part had halted in 
 a wood near the Abbey, while I and a few- others went 
 up to the Abbey'gates, and knocked loudly four times 
 with my sword-hilt, stamping on the ground meantime. 
 A long, low whittle answered me from within, which 
 
 1 in my turn answered: then the wicket opened, and a 
 monk came out, holding a lantern. He seemed yet in the 
 prime of life, and was a tall, powerful man. He held the 
 lantern to my face, then smiled and said, "The banners 
 
14 hang low." I gave the countersign, "The creSt is lopped 
 off." "Good my son," said he; "the ladders are within 
 here, I dare not truSt any of the brethren to carry them 
 for you, though they love not the witch either, but are 
 timor some." W" No matter," I said, "I have men here." 
 So they entered and began to shoulder the tall ladders : 
 the prior was very busy. "You will find them juSt the 
 right length, my son, truSt me for that." He seemed quite 
 a jolly pleasant man, I could not understand him nurs* 
 ing furious revenge; but his face darkened Strangely 
 whenever he happened to mention her name. As we 
 were Starting he came and Stood outside the gate, and 
 putting his lantern down that the light of it might not 
 confuse his sight, looked earnestly into the night, then 
 said: "The wind has fallen, the snow flakes get thinner 
 and smaller every moment, in an hour it will be freeze 
 ing hard, and will be quite clear; everything depends 
 upon the surprise being complete; Stop a few minutes 
 yet, my son." He went away chuckling, and returned 
 presently with two more Sturdy monks carrying some* 
 thing : they threw their burdens down before my feet, 
 they consisted of all the white albs in the abbey: 
 "There, truSt an old man, who has seen more than one 
 Stricken fight in his earned days; let the men who scale 
 the walls put these over their arms, and they will not 
 
be seen in the lea^t. God make your sword sharp, my 15 
 son." @ So we departed, and when I met Arnald again, 
 he said, that what the prior had done was well thought 
 of; so we agreed that I should take thirty men, an old 
 squire of our house, well skilled in war, along with them, 
 scale the walls as quietly as possible, and open the gates 
 to the re^t. ?I set off accordingly, after that with low 
 laughing we had put the albs all over us, wrapping the 
 ladders also in white. Then we crept very warily and 
 slowly up to the wall ; the moat was frozen over, and on 
 the ice the snow lay quite thick; we all thought that the 
 guards muA be careless enough, when they did not even 
 take the trouble to break the ice in the moat. So we listen* 
 ed there was no sound at all, the Christmas midnight 
 mass had long ago been over, it was nearly three o'clock, 
 and the moon began to clear, there was scarce any snow 
 falling now, only a flake or two from some low hurrying 
 cloud or other: the wind sighed gently about the round 
 towers there, but it was bitter cold, for it had begun 
 to freeze again : we listened for some minutes, about a 
 quarter of an hour I think, then at a sign from me, they 
 raised the ladders carefully, muffled as they were at the 
 top with swathings of wool. I mounted fir^t, old Squire 
 Hugh followed la^t; noiselessly we ascended, and soon 
 tood all together on the walls; then we carefully low* 
 
1 6 ered the ladders again with long ropes; we got our 
 swords and axes from out of the folds of our priests' rai- 8 
 ments, and set forward, till we reached the fir^t tower 
 along the wall; the door was open, in the chamber at the 
 top there -was a fire slowly smouldering, nothing else; 
 we passed through it, and began to go down the spiral 
 staircase, I firift, with my axe shortened in my hand. 
 "What if we were surprised there," I thought, and I 
 longed to be out in the air again; "Wliat if the door 
 were fa^t at the bottom." <? As we passed the second 
 chamber, we heard someone -within snoring loudly: I 
 looked in quietly, and saw- a big man with long black 
 hair, that fell off his pillow and swept the ground, lying 
 snoring, with his nose turned up & his mouth open, but 
 he seemed so sound asleep that we did not iftop to slay 
 him. Praise be! the door was open, without even a 
 whispered word, without a pause, we went on along the 
 streets, on the side that the drift had been on, because our 
 garments were white, for the -wind being very strong all 
 that day, the houses on that side had caught in their cor** 
 nices and carvings, and on the rough iftone and wood of 
 them, so much snow, that except here and there where 
 the black walls grinned out, they were quite white; no 
 man saw us as we ^lole along, noiselessly because of the 
 snow, till we ^tood within ioo yards of the gates & their 
 

 house of guard. And we 3tood because we heard the 17 
 voice of someone singing: 
 
 " Queen Mary's crown -was gold, 
 King Joseph's crown was red, 
 But Jesus' crown was diamond 
 That lit up all the bed 
 
 Mariae Virginis." 
 
 So they had some guards after all; this -was clearly the 
 sentinel that sung to keep the ghosts off. Now for a 
 fight. We drew nearer, a few yards nearer, then 
 stopped to free ourselves from our monk's clothes. 
 
 "Ships sail through the Heaven 
 With red banners dress'd, 
 Carrying the planets seven 
 To see the white breast 
 
 Mariae Virginis." 
 
 Thereat he mu^t have seen the waving of some alb or 
 other as it shivered down to the ground, for his spear fell 
 with a thud, and he seemed to be standing open*mouth* 
 ed, thinking something about ghosts; then, plucking up 
 heart of grace, he roared out like ten bull-calves, & dash* 
 ed into the guard'house. We followed smartly, but 
 without hurry, and came up to the door of it ju A as some 
 
 c 
 
8 dozen half*armed men came tumbling out under our 
 axes : thereupon, while our men slew them, I blew a great 
 blaSt upon my horn, and Hugh with some others drew 
 bolt and bar and swung the gates wide open. 3Then the 
 men in the guardhouse understood they were taken in 
 a trap, and began to Stir with great confusion; so leSt they 
 should get quite waked & armed, I left Hugh at the gates 
 with ten men, and myself led the reSt into that house. 
 There while we slew all those that yielded not, came 
 Arnald with the others, bringing our horses with them : 
 then all the enemy threw their arms down. And we 
 counted our prisoners and found them over fourscore; 
 therefore, not knowing what to do with them (for they 
 were too many to guard, and it seemed unknightly to 
 slay them all), we sent up some bowmen to the walls, and 
 turning our prisoners out of gates, bid them run for their 
 lives, which they did faSt enough, not knowing our num* 
 bers, & our men sent a few flights of arrows among them 
 that they might not be undeceived. $?Then the one or 
 two prisoners that we had left, told us, when we had 
 crossed our axes over their heads, that the people of the 
 good town would not willingly fight us, in that they 
 hated the Queen; that she was guarded at the palace by 
 some fifty knights, and that beside, there were no others 
 to oppose us in the town: so we set out for the palace, 
 
spear in hand. SWe had not gone far, before we heard 19 
 some knights coming, & soon, in a turn of the long street, 
 we saw them riding towards us ; when they caught sight 
 of us they seemed astonished, drew rein, and iftood in 
 some confusion. We did not slacken our pace for an 
 instant, but rode right at them with a yell, to which I 
 lent myself with all my heart. After all they did not 
 run away, but waited for us with their spears held out; 
 I missed the man I had marked, or hit him rather juift on 
 the top of the helm; he bent back, and the spear slipped 
 over his head, but my horse iftill kept on, and I felt pres* 
 ently such a crash thatl reeled in my saddle, and felt mad. 
 He had lashed out at me with his sword as I came on, hit* 
 ting me in the ribs (for my arm was raised), but only 
 flatlings. I was quite wild with rage, I turned, almost 
 fell upon him, caught him by the neck with both hands, 
 and threw r him under the horschoofs, sighing with fury : 
 I heard Arnald's voice close to me, "Well fought, Flo* 
 rian : 7 & I saw his great ^lern face bare among the iron, for 
 he had made a vow in remembrance of that blow always 
 to fight unhelmed; I saw- his great sword swinging, in 
 wide gyves, and hissing as it started up, ju^t as if it were 
 alive and liked it. So joy filled all my soul, and I fought 
 with my heart, till the big axe I swung felt like nothing 
 but a little hammer in my hand, except for its bitterness : 
 
20 and as for the enemy, they went down like grass, so that 
 we destroyed them utterly, for those knights would 
 neither yield nor fly, but died as they Stood, so that some 
 fifteen of our men also died there . ^Then at laSt we came 
 to the palace, where some grooms and such like kept 
 the gates armed, but some ran, & some we took prison* 
 ers, one of whom died for sheer terror in our hands, be* 
 ing Stricken by no wound : for he thought we would eat 
 him. These prisoners we questioned concerning the 
 queen, and so entered the great hall. There Arnald sat 
 down in the throne on the dais, and laid his naked sword 
 before him on the table : and on each side of him sat such 
 knights as there was room for, & the others Stood round 
 about, while I took ten men, and went to look for Swan* 
 hilda.^I found her soon, sitting by herself in a gorgeous 
 chamber. I almost pitied her when I saw her looking so 
 utterly desolate & despairing; her beauty too had faded, 
 deep lines cut through her face. But when I entered she 
 knew who I was, and her look of intense hatred was 
 so fiend*like, that it changed my pity into horror of her. 
 3" Knight," she said, "who are you, and what do you 
 want, thus discourteously entering my chamber ?" "I 
 am Florian de Liliis, & I am to condudt you to judgment." 
 @She sprung up, "Curse you and your whole house, 
 you I hate worse than any, girl's face, guards! 
 
guards !" and she stamped on the ground, her veins on 21 
 the forehead swelled, her eyes grew round and flamed 
 out, as she kept crying for her guards, damping the 
 while, for she seemed quite mad. @Then at la^t she re* 
 membered that she was in the power of her enemies, 
 she sat down, and lay with her face between her hands, 
 and wept passionately. ^"Witch," I said, between 
 my closed teeth, "will you come, or mu^twe carry you 
 down to the great hall?" W Neither would she come, 
 but sat there, clutching at her dress and tearing her hair. 
 ^Then I said, "Bind her, & carry her down." And they 
 did so. W I watched Arnald as we came in, there was no 
 triumph in his intern white face, but resolution enough, 
 he had made up his mind. ^?They placed her on a seat 
 in the mid^t o the hall over against the dais. He said, 
 "Unbind her, Florian." They did so, she raised her face, 
 and glared defiance at us all, as though she would die 
 queenly after all. $?Then rose up Arnald & said, "Queen 
 Swanhilda, we judge you guilty of death, and because 
 you are a queen and of a noble house, you shall be slain 
 by my knightly sword, & I will even take the reproach 
 o slaying a woman, for no other hand than mine shall 
 deal the blow." $?Then she said, "O false knight, shew 
 your warrant from God, man, or devil." $?"This war* 
 rant from God, Swanhilda," he said, holding up his 
 
22 sword, k 'listen ! fifteen years ago, when I was ju^t win* 
 ning my spurs, you struck me, disgracing me before all 
 the people; you cursed me, and meant that curse well 
 enough. Men of the house of the Lilies, what sentence 
 for that?" "Deathrtheysaid."Li&en! afterwards 
 you slew my cousin, your husband, treacherously, in 
 the mo^t cursed way, Slabbing him in the throat, as the 
 gtars in the canopy above him looked down on the shut 
 eyes of him. Men of the house of the Lily, what sentence 
 for that ?" c fc Death ! they said. " Do you hear them, 
 Queen? there is warrant from man; for the devil, I do 
 not reverence him enough to take warrant from him, 
 but, as I look at that face of yours, I think that even he 
 has left you." And indeed ju^t then all her pride seem* 
 ed to leave her, she fell from the chair, and wallowed 
 on the ground moaning, she wept like a child, so that 
 the tears lay on the oak floor; she prayed for another 
 month of life; she came to me and kneeled, and kissed 
 my feet, and prayed piteously, so that water ran out of 
 her mouth. But I shuddered, and drew away; it was 
 like having an adder about one; I could have pitied her 
 had she died bravely, but for one like her to whine and 
 whine! pah! Then from the dais rang Arnald's 
 voice terrible, much changed. " Let there be an end of 
 all this." And he took his sword and strode through the 
 
hall towards her ; she rose from the ground and ^lood up, 23 
 stooping a little, her head sunk between her shoulders, 
 her black eyes turned up & gleaming, like a tigress about 
 to spring. Wlien he came within some six paces of her 
 something in his eye daunted her, or perhaps the flash* 
 ing of his terrible sword in the torchlight; she threw 
 her arms up with a great shriek, and dashed screaming 
 about the hall. Arnold's lip never once curled with any 
 scorn, no line in his face changed: he said, "Bring her 
 here and bind her." ?But when one came up to her to 
 lay hold on her she fir& of all ran at him, hitting him 
 with her head in the belly. Then while he iftood doubled 
 up for want of breath, and staring with his head up, she 
 caught his sword from the girdle, and cut him across 
 the shoulders, and many others she wounded sorely be* 
 fore they took her. ?Then Arnald ^tood by the chair to 
 which she was bound, and poised his sword, and there 
 was a great silence. $?Then he said, "Men of the House 
 of the Lilies, do you justify me in this, shall she die?" 
 Straightway rang a great shout through the hall, but be* 
 fore it died away the sword had swept round, & there* 
 withal was there no such thing as Swanhilda left upon 
 the earth, for in no battle*field had Arnald struck truer 
 blow. Then he turned to the few servants of the palace 
 and said, "Go now, bury this accursed woman, for she 
 
24 is a king's daughter." Then to us all, "Now knights, to 
 horse and away, that we may reach the good town by 
 about dawn." So we mounted and rode off. 3V/hat 
 a strange Chri&mas*day that was, for there, about nine 
 o'clock in the morning, rode Red Harald into the good 
 town to demand vengeance ; he went at once to the king, 
 and the king promised that before nightfall that very 
 day the matter should be judged; albeit the king feared 
 somewhat, because every third man you met in the 
 streets had a blue cross on his shoulder, & some likeness 
 of a lily, cut out or painted, ^tuck in his hat; and this blue 
 cross and lily were the bearings of our house, called "de 
 Liliis." Now we had seen Red Harald pass through the 
 streets, with a white banner borne before him, to show 
 that he came peaceably as for this time; but I trow he 
 was thinking of other things but peace. $?And he was 
 called Red Harald fir^t at this time, because over all his 
 arms he wore a great scarlet cloth, that fell in heavy folds 
 about his horse and all about him. Then, as he passed our 
 house, someone pointed it out to him, rising there with 
 its carving & its barred marble, but stronger than many 
 a cattle on the hilltops, and its great overhanging battle* 
 ment ca^t a mighty shadow down the wall & across the 
 street; and above all rose the great tower, our banner 
 floating proudly from the top, whereon was emblazoned 
 
on a white ground a blue cross, and on a blue ground four 25 
 white lilies. And now faces were gazing from all the 
 windows, and all the battlements were thronged; so 
 Harald turned, & rising in his stirrups, shook his clench- 
 ed fi^t at our house ; natheless, as he did so, the east wind, 
 coming down the iftreet, caught up the corner of that 
 scarlet cloth and drove it over his face, and therewithal 
 disordering his long black hair, well nigh choked him, 
 so that he bit both his hair and that cloth. W So from base 
 to cope rose a mighty shout of triumph and defiance, and 
 he passed on. $?Then Arnald caused it to be cried, that 
 all those who loved the good House of the Lilies should 
 go to mass that morning in St. Mary's church, hard by 
 our house. Now this church belonged to us, and the ab- 
 bey that served it, and always we appointed the abbot 
 of it on condition that our trumpets should sound alto- 
 gether when on high masses they sing the w fc Gloria in Ex- 
 celsis." It was the largest and mo& beautiful of all the 
 churches in the town, and had two exceeding high 
 towers, which you could see from far off, even when 
 you saw not the town or any of its other towers: and in 
 one of these towers were twelve great bells, named after 
 the twelve Apostles, one name being written on each 
 one of them; as Peter, Matthew, and so on; and in the 
 other tower was one great bell only, much larger than 
 
 d 
 
26 any of the others, and which was called Mary. Now 
 this bell was never rung but when our house was in 
 great danger, and it had this legend on it, k k When Mary 
 rings the earth shakes;" and indeed from this we took 
 our war cry, which was "Mary rings;" somewhat jus* 
 tifiably indeed, for the laift time that Mary rung, on that 
 day before nightfall there were four thousand bodies to 
 be buried, which bodies wore neither cross nor lily. 6 
 So Arnald gave me in charge to tell the abbot to cause 
 Mary to be tolled for an hour before mass that day. W 
 The abbot leaned on my shoulder as I iftood within the 
 tower & looked at the twelve monks laying their hands 
 to the ropes. Far up in the dimness I saw- the wheel be* 
 fore it began to swing round about; then it moved a little; 
 the twelve men bent down to the earth and a roar rose 
 that shook the tower from base to spire*vane: back* 
 wards and forwards swept the wheel, as Mary now 
 looked downwards towards earth, now looked up at 
 the shadowy cone of the spire, shot across by bars of 
 light from the dormers. W> And the thunder of Mary 
 was caught up by the wind and carried through all the 
 country; and when the good man heard it, he said good* 
 bye to wife and child, slung his shield behind his back, 
 and set forward with his spear sloped over his shoulder, 
 and many a time, as he walked toward the good town, 
 
he tightened the belt that went about his wai&, that he 27 
 might stride the faster, so long and furiously did Mary 
 toll. And before the great bell, Mary, had ceased ring* 
 ing, all the ways were full of armed men. But at each 
 door of the church of St. Mary iftood a row of men armed 
 with axes, and when any came, meaning to go into the 
 church, the two fir^t of these would hold their axes 
 (whose helves were about four feet long) over his head, 
 and would ask him, " Who went over the moon la^l 
 night?" then if he answered nothing or at random they 
 would bid him turn back, which he for the more part 
 would be ready enough to do; but some, striving to get 
 through that row of men, were slain outright; but if he 
 were one of those that were friends to the House of the 
 Lilies he would answer to that question, "Mary and 
 John." $?By the time the mass began the whole church 
 was full, and in the nave & transept thereof were three 
 thousand men, all of our house & all armed. But Arnald 
 and myself, and Squire Hugh, and some others sat un* 
 der a gold'fringed canopy near the choir; and the abbot 
 said mass, having his mitre on his head. Yet, as I watch* 
 ed him, it seemed to me that he mu^t have something on 
 beneath his priest's vestments, for he looked much fatter 
 than usual, being really a tall lithe man. $?Now, as they 
 sung the "Eyrie," some one shouted from the other end 
 
28 of the church, "My lord Arnald, they are slaying our 
 people without;" for, indeed, all the square about the 
 church was full of our people, "who for the press had not 
 been able to enter, and were standing there in no small 
 dread of what might come to pass. Then the abbot 
 turned round from the altar, and began to fidget with 
 the fastenings of his rich robes. <S And they made a lane 
 for us up to the weSt door ; then I put on my helm and we 
 began to go up the nave, then suddenly the singing of the 
 monks and all Slopped. I heard a clinking and a buzz of 
 voices in the choir; I turned, and saw that the bright 
 noon sun was shining on the gold of the priest's veSt* 
 ments, as they lay on the floor, and on the mail that the 
 prieSts carried. $?So we Stopped, the choir gates swung 
 open, & the abbot marched out at the head of HIS men, 
 all fully armed, and began to Strike up the Psalm "Ex* 
 surgat Deus." WTien we got to the weSt door, there 
 was indeed a tumult, but as yet no slaying; the square 
 was all a*flicker with Steel, and we beheld a great body 
 of knights, at the head of them Red Harald and the king, 
 Standing over againSt us ; but our people, pressed againSt 
 the houses, & into the corners of the square, were, some 
 Striving to enter the doors, some beside themselves with 
 rage, shouting out to the others to charge; withal, some 
 were pale and some were red with the blood that had 
 
gathered to the wrathful faces of them. ^Then said 29 
 Arnald to those about him, "Lift me up." So they laid 
 a great shield on two lances, and these four men carried, 
 and thereon iftood Arnald, & gazed about him. ^Now 
 the king was unhelmed, and his white hair (for he was 
 an old man) flowed down behind him on to his saddle; 
 but Arnald's hair was cut short, and was red. And 
 all the bells rang. ^Then the king said, "O Arnald of 
 the Lilies, will you settle this quarrel by the judgment 
 of God?" And Arnald thrust up his chin, & said "Yea." 
 "How then," said the king, "and where?" "Will it 
 please you try now?" said Arnald. $?Then the king un* 
 der&ood what he meant, and took in his hand from be* 
 hind tresses of his long white hair, twiifting them round 
 his hand in his wrath, but yet said no word, till I suppose 
 his hair put him in mind of something, and he raised it 
 in both his hands above his head, and shouted out aloud, 
 "O knights, hearken to this traitor." WTiereat, indeed, 
 the lances began to move ominously. But Arnald spoke . 
 IP " O you king and lords, what have we to do with you? 
 were we not free in the old time, up among the hills 
 there? Wlierefore give way, and we will go to the hills 
 again; and if any man try to top us, his blood be on his 
 own head; wherefore now," (and he turned) "all you 
 House of the Lily, both soldiers and monks, let us go 
 
30 forth together fearing nothing, for I think there is not 
 bone enough or muscle enough in these fellows here that 
 have a king that they should top us withal, but only- 
 skin and fat." And truly, no man dared to &op us, and 
 we went. 
 
 CHAPTER II- FAILING IN THE WORLD 
 
 NOW at that time we drove cattle in Red 
 Har aid's land. $?And we took no hoof but 
 from the Lords and rich men, but of these 
 we had amighty drove, both oxen and sheep, 
 and horses, and besides, even hawks and hounds, and a 
 huntsman or two to take care of them. And, about 
 noon, we drew away from the commands that lay be* 
 yond the pastures, and mingled with them, and reached 
 a wide moor, which was called 'Goliah's Land/ I scarce 
 know why, except that it belonged neither to Red Har* 
 aid or us, but was debateable. And the cattle began to 
 go slowly, and our horses were tired, and the sun struck 
 down very hot upon us, for there was no shadow, and 
 the day was cloudless. $?A11 about the edge of the 
 moor, except on the side from which we had come was 
 a rim of hills, not very high, but very rocky and ifteep, 
 otherwise the moor itself was flat; and through these 
 
hills was one pass, guarded by our men, which pass 31 
 led to the Hill caiftle of the Lilies. It was not won* 
 derful, that of this moor many wild Tories were told, 
 being such a Grange lonely place, some of them one 
 knew, alas! to be over true. In the old time, before we 
 went to the good town, this moor had been the muster* 
 ing place of our people, and our house had done deeds 
 enough of blood and horror to turn our white lilies red, 
 and our blue cross to a fiery one. But some of those wild 
 tales I never believed; they had to do mostly with men 
 losing their way without any apparent cause, (for there 
 were plenty of land*marks,) finding some well-known 
 spot, and then, ju^l beyond it, a place they had never 
 even dreamed of. ^"Florian! Florian! " said Arnald, 
 "For God's sake iftop! as every one else is flopping to 
 look at the hills yonder; I always thought there was a 
 curse upon us. Wliat does God mean by shutting us up 
 here? Look at the cattle; O Christ, they have found it 
 out too ! See, some of them are turning to run back again 
 towards Harald's land. Oh! unhappy, unhappy, from 
 that day forward! M $?He leaned forward, reeled his 
 head on his horse's neck, and wept like a child. @I felt so 
 irritated with him, that I could almost have slain him 
 then and there. Was he mad? had these wild doings of 
 ours turned his strong wise head? $?"Are you my 
 
32 brother Arnald, that I used to think such a grand man 
 when I was a boy?" I said, "or are you changed too, like 
 everybody, & everything else? WTiat do YOU mean?" 
 3"Look! look!" he said, grinding his teeth in agony. 
 Mi raised my eyes: where was the one pass between 
 the rim of iftern rocks ? Nothing : the enemy behind us 
 that grim wall in front: what wonder that each man 
 looked in his fellow's face for help, & found it not. Yet 
 I refused to believe that there was any truth either in the 
 wild Tories that I had heard when I was a boy, or in 
 this &ory told me so clearly by my eyes now. $PI called 
 out cheerily, fc fc Hugh, come here ! " He came . fc fc Wliat do 
 you think of this? Some mere dodge on Har aid's part? 
 Are we cut off?" $?"Think! SirFlorian? God forgive 
 me for ever thinking at all; I have given up that long and 
 long ago, because thirty years ago I thought this, that 
 the House of Lilies would deserve anything in the way 
 of bad fortune that God would send them: so I gave up 
 thinking, and took to fighting. But if you think that Har* 8 
 aid had anything to do with this, why why in God's 
 name, I wish I could think so ! " WI felt a dull weight on 
 my heart. Had our house been the devil's servants all 
 along? I thought we were God's servants. $?The day 
 was very iftill, but what little wind there was, was at our 
 backs. I watched Hugh's face, not being able to answer 
 
him. He was the cleverest man at war that I have 33 
 known, either before or since that day: sharper than 
 any hound in ear & scent, clearer sighted than any eagle ; 
 he was listening now intently. I saw a slight smile cross 
 his face ; heard him mutter, "Yes ! I think so : verily that 
 is better, a great deal better." Then he 3tood up in his 
 stirrups, and shouted, "Hurrah for the Lilies! Mary 
 rings ! M "Mary rings! " I shouted, though I did not know 
 the reason for his exultation : my brother lifted his head, 
 and smiled too, grimly .Then as I listened I heard clearly 
 the sound of a trumpet, & enemy's trumpet too. $?" After 
 all, it was only mi^t, or some such thing," I said, for the 
 pass between the hills was clear enough now. $?"Hur* 
 rah! only mi^t," said Arnald, quite elated; "Mary rings! " 
 and we all began to think of fighting : for after all, what 
 joy is equal to that? There were five hundred of us; 
 two hundred spears, the re^t archers; & both archers and 
 men at arms were picked men. "How many of them 
 are we to expedt?" said I. "Not under a thousand, cer* 
 tainly, probably more, Sir Florian." (My brother Ar* 
 nald, by the way, had knighted me before we left the 
 good town, and Hugh liked to give me the handle to my 
 name. How was it, by the way, that no one had ever 
 made HIM a knight?) ' 'Let every one look to his arms 
 and horse, and come away from these silly cows' sons ! r 
 
 e 
 
34 shouted Arnald. ^Hugh said, "They will be here in an 
 hour, fair Sir." $?So we got clear of the cattle, and dis* 
 mounted, and both ourselves took food and drink, and 
 our horses; afterwards we tightened our saddle-girths, 
 shook our great pots of helmets on, except Arnald, 
 whose ru^tyred hair had been his only head*piece in 
 battle for years & years, and tood with our spears close 
 by our horses, leaving room for the archers to retreat be" 
 tween our ranks; and they got their arrow's ready, and 
 planted their stakes before a little peat moss: and there 
 we waited, and saw their pennons at la^t floating high 
 above the corn of the fertile land, then heard their many 
 horsehoofs ring upon the hard*parched moor, and the 
 archers began to shoot. 
 
 . . . . . * . . .. . . , . .. 
 $?It had been a strange battle; we had never fought bet" 
 ter, and yet withal it had ended in a retreat; indeed all 
 along every man but Arnald and myself, even Hugh, 
 had been trying at lea& to get the enemy between him 
 and the way toward the pass ; & now we were all drift- 
 ing that way, the enemy trying to cut us off, but never 
 able to top us, because he could only throw small bodies 
 of men in our way , whom we scattered and put to flight 
 in their turn. I never cared less for my life than then; 
 indeed, in spite of all my boasting and hardness of belief, 
 
I should have been happy to have died, such a Grange 35 
 weight of apprehension was on me; and yet I got no 
 scratch even. I had soon put off my great helm, and was 
 fighting in my mail'coif only; & here I swear that three 
 knights together charged me, aiming at my bare face, 
 yet never touched me; for, as for one, I put his lance 
 aside with my sword, and the other two in some mo^t 
 wonderful manner got their spears locked in each oth* 
 er's armour, and so had to submit to be knocked off their 
 their horses. And we ^till neared the pass, and began 
 to see di^lindlly the ferns that grew on the rocks, and the 
 fair country between the rift in them, spreading out 
 there, blue*shadowed. $? Whereupon came a great rush 
 of men of both sides, striking side blows at each other, 
 spitting, cursing, and shrieking, as they tore away like 
 a herd of wild hogs. So, being careless of life, as I said, 
 I drew rein, and turning my horse, waited quietly for 
 them; and I knotted the reins, & lay them on the horse's 
 neck, and stroked him, that he whinnied; then got both 
 my hands to my sword. ^Then, as they came on, I noted 
 hurriedly that the firift man was one of Arnald's men, 
 and one of our men behind him leaned forward to prod 
 him with his spear, but could not reach so far, till he him* 
 self was run through the eye with a spear, and throw* 
 ing his arms up fell dead with a shriek. Also I noted 
 
36 concerning this fir& man that the laces of his helmet 
 were loose, & when he saw me he lifted his LEFT hand 
 to his head, took off his helm and ca^t it at me, and till 
 tore on; the helmet flew over my head, and I sitting &ill 
 there, swung out, hitting him on the neck; his head flew 
 right off, for the mail no more held than a piece of silk. 
 " Mary rings," and my horse whinnied again, and we 
 both of us went at it, and fairly stopped that rout, so 
 that there was a knot of quite close and desperate fight** 
 ing, wherein we had the beift of that fight and slew moA 
 of them, albeit my horse was slain and my mail*coif cut 
 through. Then I bade a squire fetch me another horse, 
 and began meanwhile to upbraid those knights for run* 
 ning in such a strange disorderly race, instead of iftand* 
 ing and fighting cleverly. $? Moreover we had drifted 
 even in this successful fight iftill nearer to the pass, so 
 that the conies who dwelt there were beginning to con* 
 sider whether they should not run into their holes. 
 But one of those knights said: "Be not angry with me, 
 Sir Florian, but do you think you will go to Heaven?" 
 fc 'The saints ! I hope so," I said, but one who Aood near 
 him whispered to him to hold his peace, so I cried out: 
 S?"0 friend! I hold this world and all therein so cheap 
 now, that I see not anything in it but shame which can 
 any longer anger me; wherefore speak out." "Then, 
 
Sir Florian, men say that at your chrii&ening some fiend 37 
 took on him the likeness of a priest and strove to baptize 
 you in the Devil's name, but God had mercy on you so 
 that the fiend could not choose but baptize you in the 
 name of the moA holy Trinity: and yet men say that 
 you hardly believe any dodtrine such as other men do, 
 and will at the end only go to Heaven round about as it 
 were, not at all by the intercession of our Lady; they 
 say too that you can see no ghosts or other wonders, 
 whatever happens to other Christian men." $?I smiled 
 "V/ell, friend, I scarcely call this a disadvantage, 
 moreover what has it to do with the matter in hand? * 
 S?How was this in Heaven's name? we had been quite 
 ^till, reeling, while this talk was going on, but we could 
 hear the hawks chattering from the rocks, we were so 
 close now. And my heart sunk within me, there was 
 no reason why this should not be true ; there was no rea* 
 son why anything should not be true. $?"This, Sir Flo* 8 
 rian," said the knight again, "how would you feel in- 
 clined to fight if you thought that everything about you 
 was mere glamour; this earth here, the rocks, the sun, 
 the sky? I do not know where I am for certain, I do not 
 know that it is not midnight instead of undern: I do not 
 know if I have been fighting men or only simulacra 
 but I think, we all think, that we have been led into some 
 
38 devil's trap or other, and and may God forgive me 
 my sins! I wish I had never been born." ^Therenow! 
 he was weeping they all wept how Grange it was to 
 see those rough, bearded men blubbering there, & sniv* 
 elling till the tears ran over their armour & mingled with 
 the blood, so that it dropped down to the earth in a dim, 
 dull, red rain. @My eyes indeed were dry, but then so 
 -was my heart; I felt far worse than weeping came to, 
 but nevertheless I spoke cheerily. $?"Dear friends, 
 where are your old men's hearts gone to now? See now! 
 this is a punishment for our sins, is it? well, for our fore* 
 fathers' sins, or our own? if the fir^t, O brothers, be very 
 sure that if we bear it manfully God will have something 
 very good in iftore for us hereafter; but if for our sins, 
 is it not certain that He cares for us yet, for note that 
 He suffers the wicked to go their own -ways pretty 
 much; moreover brave men, brothers, ought to be the 
 makers of simulacra come, is it so hard to die once for 
 all?" tS Still no answer came from them, they sighed 
 heavily only. I heard the sound of more than one or two 
 swords as they rattled back to their scabbards : nay, one 
 knight, stripping himself of surcoat and hauberk, and 
 drawing his dagger, looked at me with a grim smile, and 
 said, "Sir Florian, do so! " then he drew the dagger a" 
 cross his throat & he fell back dead. 6 They shuddered, 
 
those brave men, and crossed themselves. And I had 39 
 no heart to say a word more, hut mounted the horse 
 which had been brought to me and rode away slowly 
 for a few yards; then I became aware that there was a 
 great silence over the whole field. 9 So I lifted my eyes 
 and looked, & behold no man struck at another. Then 
 from out of a band of horsemen came Harald, and he 
 was covered all over with a great scarlet cloth as before, 
 put on over the head, and flowing all about his horse, 
 but rent with the fight. He put off his helm and drew 
 back his mail*coif, then took a trumpet from the hand of 
 a herald and blew strongly. 8 And in the mid^t of this 
 blaift I heard a voice call out: "O Florian! come & speak 
 to me for the la^l time! w @So when I turned I beheld 
 Arnald ^landing by himself, but near him tood Hugh 
 and ten others with drawn swords. Then I wept, and 
 so went to him, weeping; &he said, "Thou see A, broth- 
 er, that we mu^t die, and I think by some horrible and 
 unheard-of death, and the House of the Lilies is ju^t 
 dying too; and now I repent me of Swanhilda's death; 
 now I know that it was a poor cowardly piece of re* 
 venge, instead of a brave act of justice; thus has God 
 shown us the right. &"0 Florian! curseme! Sowillitbe 
 tr aighter ; truly thy mother when she bore thee did not 
 think of this ; rather saw thee in the tourney at this time, 
 
40 in her fond hopes, glittering with gold & doing knightly ; 
 or else mingling thy brown locks with the golden hair 
 of some maiden weeping for the love of thee. God for* 8 
 give me ! God forgive me ! " " What harm, brother?" 
 I said, "this is only failing in the world; what if we had 
 not failed, in a little while it would have made no differ* 
 ence; truly ju^t now I felt very miserable, but now it 
 has passed away, and I am happy." $? * ' O brave heart ! r 
 he said, "yet we shall part ju^: now, Florian, farewell." 
 $?"The road is long," I said, "farewell." $?Then we 
 kissed each other, and Hugh &the others wept. ^Now 
 all this time the trumpets had been ringing, ringing, 
 great doleful peals, then it ceased, & above all sounded 
 Red HarakTs voice. (So I looked round towards that 
 pass, & when I looked I no longer doubted any of those 
 wild tales of glamour concerning Goliah's Land; for 
 though the rocks were the same, and though the conies 
 rftill tood gazing at the doors of their dwellings, though 
 the hawks ^lill cried out shrilly, though the fern ^till 
 shook in the wind, yet, beyond, oh such a land! not to 
 be described by any because of its great beauty, lying, 
 a great HOLLOW land, the rocks going down on this 
 side in precipices, then reaches and reaches of lovelieA 
 country, trees and flowers, & corn, then the hills, green 
 and blue, and purple, till their ledges reached the white 
 
snowy mountains at la^l. Then with all manner of 41 
 strange feelings, "my heart in the mid^t of my body 
 was even like melting wax.") "O you House of the 
 Lily! you are conquered yet I will take vengeance 
 only on a few, therefore let all those who wish to live 
 come and pile their swords, and shields, and helms be* 
 hind me in three great heaps, & swear fealty afterwards 
 to me; yes, all but the false Knights Arnald & Florian." 
 We were holding each other's hands and gazing, and 
 we saw all our knights, yea, all but Squire Hugh and 
 his ten heroes, pass over the field singly, or in groups of 
 three or four, with their heads hanging down in shame, 
 and they ca^l down their notched swords and dinted, 
 lilied shields, and bravccre^ted helms into three great 
 heaps, behind Red Harald, then tood behind, no man 
 speaking to his fellow or touching him. Then dole* 
 fully the great trumpets sang over the dying House of 
 the Lily, & Red Harald led his men forward, but slowly: 
 on they came, spear and mail glittering in the sunlight; 
 and I turned & looked at that good land, and a shudder* 
 ing delight seized my soul. But I felt my brother s 
 hand leave mine, and saw him turn his horse's head and 
 ride swiftly toward the pass; that was a strange pass 
 now. And at the edge he stopped, turned round and 
 called out aloud, "I pray thee, Harald, forgive me ! now 
 
 f 
 
42 farewell all. " $?Then the horse gave one bound forward, 
 and we heard the poor creature's scream when he felt 
 that he muSt die, & -we heard afterwards (for we were 
 near enough for that even) a clang and a crash. @So I 
 turned me about to Hugh, and he understood me though 
 I could not speak. We shouted all together, "Mary 
 rings," then laid our bridles on the necks of our horses, 
 spurred forward, and in five minutes they were all 
 slain, and I was down among the horse*hoofs. $?Not 
 slain though, not wounded. Red Harald smiled grimly 
 when he saw me rise and lash out again; he and some 
 ten others dismounted, & holding their long spears out, 
 I went back back, back, I saw what it meant, and 
 sheathed my sword, and their laughter rolled all about, 
 and I too smiled. $? Presently they all Slopped, and I felt 
 the laSt foot of turf giving under my feet; I looked down 
 and saw the crack there widening; then in a moment I 
 fell, and a cloud of duSt and earth rolled after me; then 
 again their mirth rose into thunder-peals of laughter. 
 But through it all I heard Red Harald shout, "Silence! 
 evil dogs! ? S?For as I fell I stretched out my arms, and 
 caught a tuft of yellow broom some three feet from the 
 brow, and hung there by the hands, my feet being loose 
 in the air. $?Then Red Harald came and Stood on the 
 precipice above me, his great axe over his shoulder; and 
 
he looked down on me not ferociously, almost kindly, 
 while the wind from the Hollow Land blew about his 
 red raiment, tattered & du^ty now. 31? And I felt happy, 
 though it pained me to hold draining by the broom, yet 
 I said, "I will hold out to the la^t." It was not long, 
 the plant itself gave way and I fell, and as I fell I fainted. 
 
 43 
 
CHAPTER III-LEAVING THE WORLD 
 
 Fytte the Fir^t 
 
 I HAD thought when I fell that I should never 
 wake again; but I woke at la^t: for a long time 
 I was quite dizzied and could see nothing at all; 
 horrible doubts came creeping over me; I half 
 expedled to see presently great half formed shapes 
 come rolling up to me to crush me ; something fiery, not 
 strange, too utterly horrible to be strange, but utterly 
 vile and ugly, the sight of which would have killed me 
 when I was upon the earth, come rolling up to torment 
 me. In fadt I doubted if I were in hell. I knew I de* 
 served to be, but I prayed, & then it came into my mind 
 that I could not pray if I were in hell. $? Also there 
 seemed to be a cool green light all about me, which was 
 sweet. Then presently I heard a glorious voice ring 
 out clear, close to me 
 
 Christ keep the Hollow Land 
 Through the sweet springtide, 
 
 Wlien the applcblossoms bless 
 The lowly bent hill side. 
 
 Thereat my eyes were unsealed, and I saw- the blessed* 8 
 et sight I have ever seen before or since : for I saw my 
 
Love. She sat about five yards from me on a great grey 45 
 ^lone that had much moss on it, one of the many scat" 
 tered along the side of the stream by which I lay; she 
 was clad in loose white raiment close to her hands and 
 throat, her feet were bare, her hair hung loose a long 
 way down, but some of it lay on her knees : I said 'white' 
 raiment, but long spikes of light scarlet went down from 
 the throat, lo^t here and there in the shadows of the 
 folds, and, growing smaller and smaller, died before 
 they reached her feet. ^1 was lying with my head re&* 
 ing on soft moss that someone had gathered and placed 
 under me. She, when she saw me moving and awake, 
 came and iftood over me with a gracious smile. She 
 was so lovely and tender to look at, and so kind, yet 
 withal no one, man or woman, had ever frightened me 
 half so much, fi? She was not fair in white and red, like 
 many beautiful women are, being rather pale, but like 
 ivory for smoothness, and her hair was quite golden, 
 not light yellow, but dusky golden. &I tried to get up 
 on my feet, but was too weak, and sunk back again. 
 She said: $?"No, not ju^t yet, do not trouble yourself 
 or try to remember anything ju^t at present." There 
 withal she kneeled down, & hung over me closer. @"To* 
 morrow you may, perhaps, have something hard to do 
 or bear, I know, but now- you mu^l be as happy as you 
 
46 can be, quietly happy. Why did you tart and turn pale 
 when I came to you ? Do you not know who I am ? Nay, 
 but you do, I see; and I have been waiting here so long 
 for you; so you mu^l have expedted to see me. You 
 cannot be frightened of me, are you?" But I could not 
 answer a word, but all the time strange knowledge, 
 strange feelings were filling my brain and my heart, she 
 said: $?"You are tired; re^l, and dream happily." ^So 
 she sat by me, & sung to lull me to sleep, while I turned 
 on my elbow, and watched the waving of her throat: 
 and the singing of all the poets I had ever heard, and of 
 many others too, not born till years long after I was dead, 
 floated all about me as she sung, and I did indeed dream 
 happily. V/hen I awoke it was the time of the cold 
 dawn, and the colours were gathering themselves to* 
 gether, whereat in fatherly approving fashion the sun 
 sent all across the eai^t long bars of scarlet and orange 
 that after faded through yellow to green & blue. 8? And 
 she sat by me All; I think she had been sitting there and 
 singing all the time; all through hot yesterday, for I had 
 been sleeping daylong and night-long, all through the 
 falling evening under moonlight and starlight the night 
 through. & And now it was dawn, and I think too that 
 neither of us had moved at all; for the la^t thing I re* 
 membered before I went to sleep was the tips of her 
 
fingers brushing my cheek, as she knelt over me with 47 
 down*drooping arm, and Still now I felt them there. 
 Moreover she was juSt finishing some fainting measure 
 that died before it had time to get painful in its passion. 
 Dear Lord ! how I loved her ! yet did I not dare to touch 
 her, or even speak to her. She smiled with delight when 
 she saw I was awake again, and slid down her hand on 
 to mine, but some shuddering dread made me draw it 
 away again hurriedly; then I saw the smile leave her 
 face : what would I not have given for courage to hold 
 her body quite tight to mine? but I was so weak. She 
 said: ""Have you been very happy?" "Yea," I said. 
 It was the fir St word I had spoken there, & my voice 
 sounded Strange . fc w Ah ! she said, fc w you will talk more 
 when you get used to the air of the Hollow Land. Have 
 you been thinking of your pa A life at all? if not, try to 
 think of it. What thing in Heaven or Earth do you wish 
 for mo^ir Still I said no word; but she said in a wearied 
 way: "Well now-, I think you will be Strong enough 
 to get to your feet and walk; take my hand and try." 
 Therewith she held it out: I strove hard to be brave 
 enough to take it, but could not; I only turned away 
 shuddering, sick, and grieved to the heart's core of me; 
 then struggling hard with hand and knee and elbow-, I 
 scarce rose, & Stood up totteringly ; while she watched 
 
y 
 
 48 me sadly, ^till Holding out her hand. ^But as I rose, in 
 my swinging to and fro the &ee\ sheath of my sword 
 struck her on the hand so that the blood flowed from it, 
 which she iftood looking at for a while, then dropped it 
 downwards, and turned to look at me, for I was going. 
 $?Then as I walked she followed me, so I flopped and 
 turned and said almoift fiercely: S?"I am going alone to 
 look for my brother." ^?The vehemence with which I 
 spoke, or something else, bur^t some blood-vessel with- 
 in my throat, and we both iftood there with the blood 
 running from us on to the grass and summer flowers. 
 $?She said: "Ifyou find him, wait with him till I come." 
 4? fc ' Yea," and I turned and left her, following the course 
 of the stream upwards, and as I went I heard her low 
 singing thatalmo^t broke my heart forits sadness. $? And 
 I went painfully because of my weakness, and because 
 also of the great atones; and sometimes I went along a 
 spot of earth where the river had been used to flow in 
 flood-time, and which was now bare of everything but 
 atones; and the sun, now risen high, poured down on 
 everything a great flood of fierce light & scorching heat, 
 and burnt me sorely, so that I almost fainted. ^But 
 about noontide I entered a wood close by the stream, a 
 beech-wood, intending to re^t myself; the herbage was 
 thin and scattered there, sprouting up from amid the 
 
leafsheaths and nuts of the beeches, which had fallen 49 
 year after year on that same spot; the outside boughs 
 swept low-down, the air itself seemed green when you 
 entered within the shadow of the branches, they over** 
 roofed the place so with tender green, only here and 
 there showing spots of blue. $?But what lay at the foot 
 of a great beech tree but some dead knight in armour, 
 only the helmet off? A wolf was prowling round about 
 it, who ran away snarling when he saw me coming. 
 WSo I went up to that dead knight, & fell on my knees 
 before him, laying my head on his breaift, for it was Ar* 
 nald. He was quite cold but had not been dead for 
 very long ; I would not believe him dead, but went down 
 to the stream and brought him water, tried to make him 
 drink what would you ? he was as dead as S wanhilda : 
 neither came there any answer to my cries that after* 
 noon but the moaning of the wood'doves in the beeches. 
 $?So then I sat down & took his head on my knees, and 
 closed the eyes, and wept quietly while the sun sunk 
 lower. $?But a little after sunset I heard a rustle through 
 the leaves, that was not the wind, and looking up my 
 eyes met the pitying eyes of that maiden. ^Something 
 birred rebelliously within me; I ceased weeping, and 
 said: 3"Itis unjust, unfair: What right had S wanhilda 
 to live ? did not God give her up to us ? How much better 
 
 g ' 
 
jo was he than ten Swanhildas? and look you See ! tie 
 is DEAD." ^Now this I shrieked out, being mad; and 
 though I trembled when I saw some Stormy wrath that 
 vexed her very heart and loving lips, gathering on her 
 face, I yet sat there looking at her & screaming, scream* 
 ing, till all the place rung. But when growing hoarse 
 and breathless I ceased; she said, with straightened 
 brow and scornful mouth : tfB ' c So ! bravely done ! muSt 
 I then, though I am a woman, call you a liar, for saying 
 God is unjuSt ? You to punish her, had not God then pun* 
 ished her already? How many times when she woke in 
 the dead night do you suppose she missed seeing King 
 Urrayne's pale face & hacked head lying on the pillow 
 by her side? Whether by night or day, what things but 
 screams did she hear when the wind blew loud round 
 about the Palace corners ? and did not that face too, often 
 come before her, pale and bleeding as it was long ago, 
 and gaze at her from unhappy eyes! poor eyes! with 
 changed purpose in them no more hope of converting 
 the world when that blow was once Struck, truly it -was 
 very wicked no more dreams, but only fierce Struggles 
 with the Devil for very life, no more dreams but failure 
 at laSt, and death, happier so in the Hollow Land." 3 
 She grew so pitying as she gazed at his dead face that I 
 began to weep again unreasonably, while she saw not 
 
that I was weeping, but looked only on ArnalcTs face, 51 
 but after turned on me frowning . <8 " Unjuift ! yes truly 
 unjust enough to take away life and all hope from her; 
 you have done a base cowardly act, you & your brother 
 here, disguise it as you may ;you deserve all God's judg* 
 ments you " ^ But I turned my eyes and wet face to 
 her, and said : w w Do not curse me there do not look 
 like Swanhilda: for see now, you said at fir^l that you 
 had been waiting long for me, give me your hand now, 
 for I love you so." $?Then she came and knelt by where 
 I sat, and I caught her in my arms, and she prayed to be 
 forgiven. fc fc O, Florian ! I have indeed waited long for 
 you, and -when I saw you my heart was filled with joy, 
 but you would neither touch me nor speak to me, so that 
 I became almost mad, forgive me, we will be so happy 
 now. O ! do you know this is what I have been waiting 
 for all these years ; it made me glad I know, when I was 
 a little baby in my mother's arms to think I was born for 
 this; & afterwards, as I grew up, I used to watch every 
 breath of wind through the beech^boughs, every turn 
 of the silver poplar leaves, thinking it might be you or 
 some news of you." $?Then I rose & drew her up with 
 me; but she knelt again by my brother's side, and kissed 
 him, and said : $? k fc O brother ! the Hollow Land is only 
 second beift of the places God has made, for Heaven also 
 
52 is the work of His hand." ^Afterwards we dug a deep 
 grave among the beech-roots & there we buried Arnald 
 de Liliis. And I have never seen him since, scarcely 
 even in dreams; surely God has had mercy on him, for 
 he was very leal and true and brave; he loved many 
 men, and was kind and gentle to his friends, neither did 
 he hate any but Swanhilda. $?But as for us two, Mar- 
 garet and me, I cannot tell you concerning our happi- 
 ness, such things cannot be told; only this I know, that 
 we abode continually in the Hollow Land until I lo^l it. 
 W Moreover this I can tell you. Margaret was walking 
 with me, as she often walked near the place where I had 
 fir ^l seen her; presently we came upon a woman sitting, 
 dressed in scarlet and gold raiment, with her head laid 
 down on her knees ; likewise we heard her sobbing. 
 " Margaret, who is she?" I said: "I knew not that any 
 dwelt in the Hollow Land but us two only." $? She said, 
 "I know not who she is, only sometimes, these many 
 years, I have seen her scarlet robe flaming from far 
 away, amid the quiet green grass: but I was never so 
 near her as this. Florian, I am afraid: let us come away." 
 
 Fytte the Second 
 
 $?Such a horrible grey November day it was, the fog- 
 smell all about, the fog creeping into our very bones. 
 
8 And I sat there, trying to recoiled:, at any rate some* 53 
 thing, under those fir-trees that I ought to have known 
 so well, ti? Ju^t think now; I had lo^l my be^t years some* 
 where; for I was pa^t the prime of life, my hair and 
 beard were scattered with white, my body was grow* 
 ing weaker, my memory of all things was very faint. 
 ^My raiment, purple and scarlet and blue once, was so 
 stained that you could scarce call it any colour, was so 
 tattered that it scarce covered my body, though it 
 seemed once to have fallen in heavy folds to my feet, and 
 iftill, when I rose to walk, though the miserable Novem* 
 ber mi^t lay in great drops upon my bare breast, yet was 
 I obliged to wind my raiment over my arm, it draggled 
 so (wretched, slimy, textureless thing!) in the brown 
 mud. S?On my head was a light morion, which pressed 
 on my brow & pained me; so I put my hand up to take 
 it off; but when I touched it I ^lood till in my walk shud* 
 dering; I nearly fell to the earth with shame and sick 
 horror ; for I laid my hand on a lump of slimy earth with 
 worms coiled up in it. I could scarce forbear from 
 shrieking, but breathing such a prayer as I could think 
 of, I raised my hand again and seized it firmly. Worse 
 horror &ill! the ru^l had eaten it into holes, and I gripped 
 my own hair as well as the rotting 3teel, the sharp edge 
 of which cut into my fingers ; but setting my teeth, gave 
 
54 a great wrench, for I knew that if I let go of it then, no 
 power on the earth or under it could make me touch it 
 again. God be praised! I tore itoff &cat it far from me; 
 I saw the earth, and the -worms and green weeds and 
 sun*begotten slime, whirling out from it radiatingly, as 
 it spun round about. 4?I was girt with, a sword too, the 
 leathern belt of which had shrunk & squeezed my wai^t: 
 dead leaves had gathered in knots about the buckles of 
 it, the gilded handle was encrusted with clay in many 
 parts, the velvet sheath miserably worn. 43 But, verily, 
 when I took hold of the hilt, and dreaded le^t instead of 
 a sword I should find a serpent in my hand; lo! then, I 
 drew out my own true blade and shook it flawless from 
 hilt to point, gleaming white in that miift. ^Therefore 
 it sent a thrill of joy to my heart, to know that there was 
 one friend left me yet: I sheathed it again carefully, and 
 undoing it from my wai^t, hung it about my neck. $? 
 Then catching up my rags in my arms, I drew them up 
 till my legs and feet were altogether clear from them, 
 afterwards folded my arms over my breast, gave a long 
 leap and ran, looking downward, but not giving heed to 
 my way. WOnce or twice I fell over Slumps of trees, 
 and such4ike, for it was a cut^down wood that I was in, 
 but I rose always, though bleeding & confused, and went 
 on jftill; sometimes tearing madly through briars and 
 
forse bushes, so that my blood dropped on the dead 
 leaves as I went. I ran in this way for about an hour; 
 then I heard a gurgling and splashing of waters; I gave 
 a great shout and leapt strongly, with shut eyes, and the 
 black water closed over me. @ When I rose again, I saw- 
 near me a boat with a man in it; but the shore was far 
 off; I struck out toward the boat, but my clothes which 
 I had knotted and folded about me, weighed me down 
 terribly. $?The man looked at me, and began to paddle 
 toward me with the oar he held in his left hand, having 
 in his right a long, slender spear, barbed like a fish hook; 
 perhaps, I thought, it is some fishing spear; moreover 
 his raiment was of scarlet, with upright stripes of yel* 
 low and black all over it. 6 WTien my eye caught his, 
 a smile widened his mouth as if some one had made a 
 joke; but I was beginning to sink, and indeed my head 
 was almost under water jusft as he came & ^lood above 
 me, but before it went quite under, I saw his spear 
 gleam, then felt it in my shoulder, and for the present, 
 felt nothing else. $?WTien I woke I was on the bank of 
 that river; the flooded waters went hurrying pa^t me; 
 no boat on them now; from the river the ground went 
 up in gentle slopes till it grew a great hill, and there, on 
 that hill top, Yes, I might forget many things, almost 
 everything, but not that, not the old cattle of my fathers 
 
 55 
 
56 up among the hills, its towers blackened now and shat* 
 tered, yet till no enemy's banner waved from it. So 
 I said I would go &die there; and at this thought I drew 
 my sword, which yet hung about my neck, and shook 
 it in the air till the true i&eel quivered; then began to pace 
 toward the cattle. I was quite naked, no rag about me ; 
 I took no heed of that, only thanking God that my sword 
 was left, & so toiled up the hill. I entered the cattle soon 
 by the outer court; I knew the way so well, that I did 
 not lift my eyes from the ground, but walked on over 
 the lowered drawbridge through the unguarded gates, 
 and ^lood in the great hall at la^t my father's hall as 
 bare of everything but my sword as when I came into 
 the world fifty years before : I had as little clothes, as lit* 
 tie wealth, less memory and thought, I verily believe, 
 than then. $?So I lifted up my eyes and gazed; no glass 
 in the windows, no hangings on the walls; the vaulting 
 yet held good throughout, but seemed to be going; the 
 mortar had fallen out from between the atones, & grass 
 and fern grew in the joints; the marble pavement was 
 in some places gone, and water ^tood about in puddles, 
 though one scarce knew how it had got there. ^No 
 hangings on the walls no; yet, strange to say, instead 
 of them, the walls blazed from end to end with scarlet 
 paintings, only striped across with green damp*marks 
 
in many places, some falling bodily from the wall, the 57 
 planter hanging down with the fading colour on it. @In 
 all of them, except for the shadows and the faces of the 
 figures, there was scarce any colour but scarlet and yel* 
 low; here and there it seemed the painter, whoever it 
 was, had tried to make his trees or his grass green, but 
 it would not do; some ghastly thoughts mui& have filled 
 his head, for all the green went presently into yellow, 
 out*sweeping through the pidlure dismally. But the 
 faces were painted to the very life, or it seemed so; 
 there were only five of them, however, that were very 
 marked or came much in the foreground; and four of 
 these I knew well, though I did not then remember the 
 names o those that had borne them. They were Red 
 Harald, Swanhilda, Arnald, and myself. The fifth I did 
 not know; it was a woman's, & very beautiful. Then 
 I saw that in some parts a small penthouse roof had been 
 built over the paintings, to keep them from the weather. 
 Near one of these 3tood a man painting, clothed in red, 
 with Gripes of yellow & black: then I knew that it was 
 the same man who had saved me from drowning by 
 spearing me through the shoulder; so I went up to him, 
 and saw furthermore that he was girt with a heavy 
 sword. He turned round when he saw me coming, 
 and asked me fiercely what I did there. I asked why 
 
 h 
 
58 he was painting in my cattle. Thereupon, with that 
 same grim smile widening his mouth as heretofore, he 
 said, CC I paint God's judgments/' And as he spoke, he 
 rattled the sword in his scabbard; but I said, ? "Well, 
 then, you paint them very badly. Listen; I know God's 
 judgments much better than you do. See now; I will 
 teach you God's judgments, & you shall teach me paint" 
 ing." ^While I spoke he till rattled his sword, & when 
 I had done, shut his right eye tight, screwing his nose on 
 one side; then said, " You have got no clothes on, and 
 may go to the devil! what do YOU know about God's 
 judgments ? " w fc "Well, they are not all yellow and red, 
 at all events ; you ought to know better." 8 He screamed 
 out, "O you fool! yellow and red! Gold & blood, what 
 do they make?" " Well," I said; "what?" "HELL! " 
 And, coming close up to me, he struck me with his open 
 hand in the face, so that the colour with which his hand 
 was smeared was dabbed about my face. The blow al- 
 most threw me down; and while I staggered, he rushed 
 at me furiously with his sword. Perhaps it was good for 
 me that I had got no clothes on; for, being utterly unen* 
 cumbered, I leapt this way and that, and avoided his 
 fierce, eager strokes till I could colledt myself some* 
 what; while he had a heavy scarlet cloak on that trailed 
 on the ground, and which he often trod on, so that he 
 
stumbled. $?He very nearly slew me during the fir^t 59 
 few minutes, for it was not Grange that, together with 
 other matters, I should have forgotten the art offence: 
 hut yet, as I went on, and sometimes bounded about the 
 hall under the whizzing of his sword, as he rented some** 
 times, leaning on it, as the point sometimes touched my 
 bare flesh, nay, once as the whole sword fell flatlings on 
 my head & made my eyes i&art out, I remembered the 
 old joy that I used to have, & the swy, swy, of the sharp 
 edge, as one gazed between one's horse's ears; moreover, 
 at la^l, one fierce swift stroke, ju^l touching me below 
 the throat, tore up the skin all down my body, and fell 
 heavy on my thigh, so that I drew my breath in and 
 turned white; then fir^l, as I swung my sword round 
 my head, our blades met, oh! to hear that tchink again! 
 and I felt the notch my sword made in his, and swung 
 out at him; but he guarded it and returned on me; I 
 guarded right and left, and grew warm, and opened my 
 mouth to shout, but knew not what to say; &our sword 
 points fell on the floor together: then, when we had 
 panted awhile, I wiped from my face the blood that had 
 been dashed over it, shook my sword and cut at him, 
 then we spun round and round in a mad waltz to the 
 measured music of our meeting swords, and sometimes 
 either wounded the other somewhat, but not much, till 
 
60 I beat down his sword on to his head, that he fell grovel" 
 ling, but not cut through. Verily, thereupon my lips 
 opened mightily with u Mary rings." $?Then, when he 
 had gotten to his feet, I went at him again, he daggering 
 back, guarding wildly; I cut at his head; he put his 
 sword up confusedly, so I fitted both hands to my hilt, 
 and smote him mightily under the arm: then his shriek 
 mingled with my shout, made a strange sound together; 
 he rolled over and over, dead, as I thought. $?I walked 
 about the hall in great exultation at fir^t, striking my 
 sword point on the floor every now and then, till I grew 
 faint with loss of blood; then I went to my enemy and 
 Gripped off some of his clothes to bind up my wounds 
 withal; afterwards I found in a corner bread and wine, 
 and I eat and drank thereof. $?Then I went back to him, 
 and looked, and a thought struck me, & I took some of 
 his paints and brushes, and, kneeling down, painted his 
 face thus, with stripes of yellow and red, crossing each 
 other at right angles ; and in each of the squares so made 
 I put a spot of black, after the manner of the painted let" 
 ters in the prayer-books and romances when they are 
 ornamented. $?So I ^lood back as painters use, folded 
 my arms, and admired my own handiwork. Yet there 
 struck me as being something so utterly doleful in the 
 man's white face, and the blood running all about him, 
 
and washing off the stains of paint from his face & hands, 61 
 and splashed clothes, that my heart misgave me, and I 
 hoped that he was not dead; I took some water from a 
 vessel he had been using for his painting, and, kneeling, 
 washed his face. $?Was it some resemblance to my 
 father's dead face, which I had seen when I was young, 
 that made me pity him? I laid my hand upon his heart, 
 and felt it beating feebly; so I lifted him up gently, and 
 carried him towards a heap of traw that he seemed 
 used to lie upon; there I stripped him and looked to his 
 wounds, & used leech*craft, the memory of which God 
 gave me for this purpose, I suppose, and within seven 
 days I found that he would not die. ^Afterwards, as I 
 wandered about the cattle, I came to a room in one of 
 the upper stories, that had ^till the roof on, & windows 
 in it with painted glass, and there I found green raiment 
 and swords & armour, and I clothed myself So when 
 he got well I asked him what his namewas, and heme, 
 and we both of us said, ' fc truly I know not." Then said I, 
 "but we muA call each other some name, even as men 
 call days." $?"Call me Swerker," he said, "some priest 
 I knew once had that name." " And me Wulf," said 
 I, "though wherefore I know not." &Then he said: $? 
 "Wulf, I will teach you painting now, come & learn." 
 $?Then I tried to learn painting till I thought I should die, 
 
62 but at la^t learned it through very much pain and grief. 
 fg And, as the years went on and we grew old and grey, 
 we painted purple pidlures & green ones imftead of the 
 scarlet and yellow, so that the walls looked altered, and 
 always we painted God's judgments. $?And we would 
 sit in the sunset and watch them with the golden light 
 changing them, as we yet hoped God would change both 
 us and our works. Often too we would sit outside the 
 walls and look at the trees and sky, and the ways of the 
 few men and women we saw; therefrom sometimes 
 befell adventures. $?Once there went pa& a great fu- 
 neral of some king going to his own country, not as he 
 had hoped to go, but iftiff and colourless, spices filling up 
 the place of his heart. $? And firift went by very many 
 knights, with long bright hauberks on, that fell down 
 before their knees as they rode, and they all had tilting" 
 helms on with the same cre^t, so that their faces were 
 quite hidden: and this ere A was two hands clasped to* 
 gether tightly as though they were the hands of one 
 praying forgiveness from the one he loves be^t ; and the 
 cre^t was wrought in gold. ^Moreover, they had on 
 over their hauberks surcoats which were half scarlet 
 and half purple, strewn about with golden &ars. $?Also 
 long lances, that had forked knights'-pennons, half pur- 
 ple and half scarlet, strewn with golden 3tars. And 
 
these went by with no sound but the fall of their horse* 63 
 hoofs. And they went slowly, so slowly that we 
 counted them all, five thousand five hundred and fifty* 
 five. There went by many fair maidens whose hair 
 was loose and yellow, and who were all clad in green 
 raiment ungirded, and shod with golden shoes. ^These 
 also we counted, being five hundred; moreover some of 
 the outermost of them, viz. one maiden to every twen* 
 ty, had long silver trumpets, which they swung out to 
 right and left, blowing them, and their sound was very 
 sad. $?Then many priests, and bishops, & abbots, who 
 wore white albs and golden copes over them; and they 
 all sung together mournfully, "Propter amnem Baby* 
 lonis;" & these were three hundred. 8 After that came 
 a great knot of the Lords, who wore tilting helmets and 
 surcoats emblazoned with each one his own device; 
 only each had in his hand a small ^taff two feet long 
 whereon was a pennon of scarlet and purple. These al* 
 so were three hundred. And in the mid^t of these 
 was a great car hung down to the ground with purple, 
 drawn by grey horses whose trappings were half scar** 
 let, half purple. 33 And on this car lay the King, whose 
 head and hands were bare; & he had on him a surcoat, 
 half purple and half scarlet, iftrewn with golden tars. 
 & And his head reeled on a tilting helmet, whose cre^l 
 
64 was the hands of one praying passionately for forgive* 
 ness. But his own hands lay by his side as if he had ju^b 
 fallen asleep . And all about the car were little banners, 
 half purple and half scarlet, strewn with golden ^tars. 
 H Then the King, who counted but as one, went by also. 
 ^And after himcame again many maidens clad inungirt 
 white raiment strewn with scarlet flowers, & their hair 
 was loose and yellow & their feet bare: and, except for 
 the falling of their feet & the rustle of the wind through 
 their raiment, they went pa^t quite silently. These also 
 were five hundred. ^Then lastly came many young 
 knights with long bright hauberks falling over their 
 knees as they rode, and surcoats, half scarlet and half 
 purple, strewn with golden gtars; they bore long lances 
 with forked pennons which were half purple, half scar* 
 let, strewn with golden ^tars; their heads & their hands 
 were bare, but they bore shields, each one o them, 
 which were of bright ^leel wrought cunningly in the 
 mid^t with that bearing of the two hands of one who 
 prays for forgiveness; which was done in gold. These 
 were but five hundred. $?Then they all went by wind* 
 ing up and up the hill roads, and, -when the la^l of them 
 had departed out of our sight, we put down our heads 
 and wept, and I said, "Sing us one of the songs of the 
 Hollow Land." $?Then he whom I had called Swerker 
 
put his hand into his bosom, and slowly drew out a long, 65 
 long tress of black hair, &laid on his knee and smoothed 
 it, weeping on it. So then I left him there and went and 
 armed myself, & brought armour for him. And then 
 came back to him and threw the armour down so that 
 it clanged, and said: S"0! Harald, let us go! " He 
 did not seem surprised that I called him by the right 
 name, but rose and armed himself, and then he looked a 
 good knight; so we set forth. 6 And in a turn of the long 
 road we came suddenly upon a moift fair woman, 
 clothed in scarlet, who sat and sobbed, holding her face 
 between her hands, & her hair was very black. <9 And 
 when Harald saw her, he iftood & gazed at her for long 
 through the bars of his helmet, then suddenly turned, 
 and said: "Florian, I muift lop here; do you go on to 
 the Hollow Land. Farewell." " Farewell." And then 
 I went on, never turning back, &him I never saw more. 
 ^ And so I went on, quite lonely, but happy, till I had 
 reached the Hollow Land. S?Into which I let myself 
 down mo^t carefully, by the jutting rocks & bushes and 
 strange trailing flowers, & there lay down & fell asleep. 
 
 Fy tte the Third 
 
 $?And I was waked by some one singing: I felt very 
 happy; I felt young again; I had fair delicate raiment on, 
 
66 my sword was gone, and my armour; I tried to think 
 where I was, and could not for my happiness; I tried to 
 listen to the words of the song. Nothing, only an old echo 
 in my ears, only all manner of strange scenes from my 
 wretched paiftlife before my eyes in a dim, far*off man* 
 ner: then at la&, slowly, without effort, I heard what 
 she sang. 
 
 "Chriift keep the Hollow Land 
 
 All the summer*tide; 
 
 Still we cannot under&and 
 
 'WTiere the waters glide; 
 
 "Only dimly seeing them 
 Coldly slipping through 
 Many green^lipp'd cavern mouths, 
 V/here the hills are blue." 
 
 $? "Then," she said, "come now and look for it, love, a 
 hollow city in the Hollow Land." I kissed Margaret, 
 
 and we 'went. 
 
 .. .. . .. . . . . . . . .. . 
 
 . .. . .. * .. . .. . .. . .. 
 
 & Through the golden streets under the purple shadows 
 
 of the houses we went, and the slow fanning backward 
 
 and forward of the manycoloured banners cooled us: 
 
 we two alone; there was no one with us, no soul will 
 
 ever be able to tell what we said, how we looked. W At 
 
laSt we came to a fair palace, cloistered off in the old 67 
 time, before the city grew golden from the din & hubbub 
 of traffic; those who dwelt there in the old ungolden 
 times had had their own joys, their own sorrows, apart 
 from the joys and sorrows of the multitude: so, in like 
 manner, was it now cloistered off from the eager lean* 
 ing and brotherhood of the golden dwellings : so now it 
 had its own gaiety, its own solemnity, apart from theirs; 
 unchanged, unchangeable, were its marble walls, what* 
 ever else changed about it. @ We Stopped before the 
 gates and trembled, and clasped each other closer; for 
 there among the marble leafage and tendrils that were 
 round & under and over the archway that held the gold* 
 en valves, were wrought two figures of a man & woman, 
 winged & garlanded, whose raiment flashed with Stars ; 
 and their faces were like faces we had seen or half seen 
 in some dream long and long and long ago, so that we 
 trembled with awe and delight; and I turned, & seeing 
 Margaret, saw that her face was that face seen or half 
 seen long and long and long ago; & in the shining of her 
 eyes I saw that other face, seen in that way & no other 
 long and long and long ago my face. And then we 
 walked together toward the golden gates, and opened 
 them, and no man gainsaid us. ff And before us lay a 
 great space of flowers. 3@The End. 
 
Here ends THE HOLLOW LAND, A TALE, by 
 ^/llliam Morris. Reprinted from The Oxford & Cam* 
 bridge Magazine. Printed by hand at The Village Press 
 Hingham, Massachusetts, by Frederic W. & Bertha M. 
 Goudy, from the Village type, and finished this second 
 day of Odtober, 1905. Frontispiece illustration from 
 drawing by Walter J. Enright; illustration on page 43 
 from drawing by Bror . J. Olsson Nordfeldt ; the Note by 
 Cyrus Lauron Hooper; and double border, title andini* 
 tial by Mr. Goudy, thedesigner of the fount. Composition 
 by Mrs. Goudy. 
 
 Two hundred twenty copies. Sold at The Village Press 
 

 3ENDE