 Introductory material of the Worm Oroboros. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Jason Mills. The Worm Oroboros by E.R. Edison. Introductory material. This file contains the dedication, an epigram in the form of a version of the Ballad of Thomas the Rimer, and an introduction by James Stevens. Dedication. To W, G, E, and to my friends KH and GCLM, I dedicate this book. It is neither allegory nor fable, but a story to be read for its own sake. E.R. E. 9th January 1922. Through Thomas lay on Hunkley Bank, a fairly hispide with his E. And there he saw a lady bright, come riding down by the idleden tree. Her skirt was of the grass-green silk, her mantle of the velvet fine, and ill-cathette of her horse's mane, hung fifty silver bells and nine. Through Thomas he pulled off his cap, and louted low down on his knee. Hail to thee, Mary, Queen of Heaven, for thy peer on earth could never be. Oh no, oh no, Thomas, she says. That name does not belong to me. I am but the Queen of Fair Elfland, that am hither come to visit thee. Harp and carp, Thomas, she says. Harp and carp are language me. And if ye dare to kiss my lips, sure of your body I will be. Betide me, weel, betide me, woe, that weird shall never daunt on me. Sin he has kissed her rosy lips, all underneath the ailden tree. Introduction Shelly had to write the Prometheus unbound. He was under compulsion. For a superhuman energy had come upon him, and he was forced to create a matter that would permit him to imagine and think and speak like a god. It was so with Blake, who willed to appear as a man but existed like a mountain. And at their best the work of these poets is inhuman and sacred. It does not greatly matter that they had or had not a message. It does not matter at all that either can be charged with nonsense, or that both have been called madmen. The same charge might be laid against a volcano or a thunderbolt, or this book. It does not matter that they could transcend human endurance and could move tranquilly in realms where lightning is the norm of speed. The work of such poets is sacred because it outpaces man, and in a realm of their own, wins even above Shakespeare. An energy such as came on the poets has visited the author of this book, and his dedicatory statement that it is neither allegory nor fable but a story to be read for its own sake, puts us off with the assured arrogance of the poet who is too busy creating to have time for school-mastering. But, waking or in dream, this author has been in strange regions, and has sucked at a torrent which only the greatest know of. The story is a long one. This reader would have liked it twice as long. The place of action is indicated casually as the planet Mercury, and the story tells of the wars between two great kingdoms of that planet and the final overthrow of one. Mr Edison is a vast man. He needed a whole cosmos to play in and create a one, and he forged a prose to tell of it that is as gigantic as his tail. In reading this book the reader must a little break his way in, and must surrender prejudices that are not allowed for. He may think that the language is more rotund than is needed for a tale, but as he proceeds he will see that only such a tongue could be spoken by these colossi, and soon he will delight in a prose that is as life-giving as it is magnificent. Mr Edison's prose never plays him false. It rises and falls with his subject, and is tender, humorous, sour, precipitate, and terrific as the occasional warrants. How nicely the cargo danced for the red foley-ot! Foxy read above, but with black bellies, round furry faces, innocent amber eyes and great soft paws. On a sudden the music ceased and the dancers were still, and standing side by side, poor in furry poor, they bowed shyly to the company, and the red foley-ot called them to him, and kissed them on the mouth, and sent them to their seats. Corund leaned on the parapet, and shaded his eyes with his hand, that was broad as a smoked haddock, and covered on the back with yellow hairs growing somewhat sparsely as the hairs on the skin of a young elephant. A dismal tempest suddenly surprised them. For forty days it swept them in hail and sleet of a wide wallowing ocean, without a star, without a course. The night came down on the hills. A great wind, moaning out of the hueless west, tore the clouds as a ragged garment, revealing the lonely moon that fled naked betwixt them. Dawn came like a lily, saffron-hued, smoked with smoke-gray streaks, that slanted from the north. He was naked to the west, his hair, breast, and arms to the armpits, clotted under drop with blood, and in his hands two bloody daggers. Quotations can give some idea of the rhythm of his sentences, but it can give none of the masses sweep an intensity of his narrative. Milton fell in love with the devil because the dramatic action lay with him, and in this book Mr Edison trounces his devils for being naughty—the word bad has not significance here—but he trounces the wizard king and his kingdom with affection and delight. What gorgeous monsters are Garice the Twelfth, and Corund and Carinius! The reader will not easily forget them. No Garice's great antagonist Lord Jus, nor the marvellous traitor Lord Grow, with whom the author was certainly in love. Nor the great fights and the terrible fighters, Lords Brandoc de Haar and Goldry Bluscoe, and a world of others, and their wives. Nor will he forget the mountain Kostropivraka that had to be climbed and was climbed, as dizzying a feat as literature can tell of. So huge he was that even here at six miles' distance the eye might not at a glance behold him, but must sweep back and forth as over a broad landscape, from the ponderous roots of the mountain, where they sprang black and sheer from the glacier, up the vast face, where buttress was piled upon buttress, and tower upon tower in a blinding radiance of ice-hung precipice and snow-filled gully to the lone heights, where, like spears menacing high heaven, the white teeth of the summit-rich cleft the sky. Mr Edison's prose does not derive from the English Bible. His mind has more affinities with Celtic imaginings and method, and his work is Celtic in that it is inspired by beauty and daring rather than by thoughts and moralities. He might be Scotch or Irish. Scarcely the former, for while Scotland loves full-mouthed verse, she, like England, is prose shy. But from whatever heaven Mr Edison come. He has added a masterpiece to English literature. James Stevens. End of Introductory Material Prologue of the Worm Oroboros This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Jason Mills The Worm Oroboros by E. R. Edison Prologue The Induction There was a man named Lessingham, dwelt in an old law-house in Wasdale, set in a grey-old garden where yew-trees flourished that had seen vikings in Copeland in their seedling time. Lily and rose and lark-spirre bloomed in the borders, and begonias with blossoms' biggest sources, red and white and pink and lemon-colour, in the beds before the porch. Flaming roses, honeysuckle, clematis, and the scarlet flame-flower scrambled up the walls. Thick woods were on every side without the garden, with a gap north-eastward opening on the desolate lake and the great fells beyond it, gable rearing his crag-bound head against the sky, from behind the straight clean outline of the screes. Cool, long shadows stole across the tennis-lawn. The air was golden. Doves murmured in the trees. Two chaffinches played on the near-posed of the net. A little water-wag-tail scurried along the path. A French window stood open to the garden, showing darkly a dining-room panelled with old oak, its Jacobean table bright with flowers and silver, and cut glass and wedgewood dishes heaped with fruit, green-gages, peaches, and green muscat grapes. Lessingham lay back in a hammock chair watching through the blue smoke of an after-dinner cigar, the warm light on the gloire de-gen-roses that clustered about the bedroom window overhead. He had her hand in his. This was their house. Should we finish that chapter of Najal, she said? She took the heavy volume with its faded green cover and red. He went out on the night of the Lord's Day when nine weeks were still to winter. He heard a great crash so that he thought both heaven and earth shook. Then he looked into the west airt and he thought he saw here about a ring of fiery hue and within the ring a man on a grey horse. He passed quickly by him and rode hard. He had a flaming fire-brand in his hand and he rode so close to him that he could see him plainly. He was black as pitch and he sung this song with a mighty voice. Here I ride swift steed. His flank flecked with rhyme. Rain from his mane drips. Horse mighty for harm. Flames flare at each end. Goal glows in the midst. So fares it with floss's reeds as this flaming-brand flies. And so fares it with floss's reeds as this flaming-brand flies. Then he thought he holed the fire-brand east towards the fells before him and such a blaze of fire let up to meet it that he could not see the fells for the blaze. It seemed as though that man rode east among the flames and vanished there. After that he went to his bed and was senseless for a long time. But at last he came to himself. He bore in mind all that had happened and told his father. But he made him tell it to Hajouti, Skegi's son. So he went and told Hajouti but he said he had seen the wolf's ride and that comes ever before great tidings. There was silent a while then Lessingham said suddenly Do you mind if we sleep in the east wing tonight? What, in the lotus room? Yes. I'm too much of a lazybones tonight, dear, she answered. Do you mind if I go alone then? I shall be back to breakfast. I like my lady with me. Still, we can go again when next moon wanes. My pet is not frightened, is she? No, she said, laughing. But her eyes were a little big. Her fingers played with his watch-chain. I'd rather, she said presently, you went later on and took me. Well, this is so odd still. The house and that. And I love it so. And after all it is a long way and several years too sometimes in the lotus room even though it is all over next morning. I'd rather we went together. If anything happened then, well, we'd both be done in and it wouldn't matter so much, would it? Both be what, said Lessingham? I'm afraid your language is not all that might be wished. Well, you taught me, he said, she. And there laughed. They sat there till the shadows crept over the lawn and up the trees, and the high rocks of the mountain shoulder beyond burned red in the evening rays. He said, if you like to stroll a bit of way up the fellside, Mercury is visible tonight. We might get a glimpse of him just after sunset. A little later, standing on the open hillside below the hawking bats, they watched for the dim planet that shored at last low down in the west between the sunset and the dark. He said, it is as if Mercury had a finger on me tonight, Mary. It's no good my trying to sleep tonight except in the lotus room. Her arm tightened in his. Mercury, she said. It is another world. It is too far. But he laughed and said, nothing is too far. They turned back as the shadows deepened. As they stood in the dark of the arched gate, leading from the open fell into the garden, the soft clear notes of a spinnit sounded from the house. She put up a finger. Hark! she said. Your daughter playing Les Barricades. They stood listening. She loves playing. He whispered. I'm glad we taught her to play. Presently he whispered again. The Barricade Mysterious. What inspired Coop around with that enchanted name? And only you and I know what it really means. The Barricade Mysterious. That night, Lesingham lay alone in the lotus room. Its casements opened eastward on the sleeping woods and the sleeping bare slopes of Ilgiel Head. He slept soft and deep. But that was the house of Pulse Meridian and the house of peace. In the deep and dead time of the night, when the waning moon peered over the mountain shoulder, he walked suddenly. The silver beams shone through the open window on a form perched at the foot of the bed. A little bird, black, round-headed, short-beaked, with long sharp wings and eyes like two stars shining, it spoke and said, Time is. So Lesingham got up and muffled himself in a great cloak that lay on a chair beside the bed. He said, I am ready, my little martlet. Well, that was the house of heart's desire. Surely the martlet's eyes filled all the room with starlight. It was an old room, with lotuses carved on the panels and on the bed and chairs and roof beams, and in the glamour the carved flowers swayed like water lilies in a lazy stream. He went to the window and the little martlet sat on his shoulder. A chariot, culled like the halo about the moon, waited by the window, poised in air, harnessed to a strange steed. A horse, it seemed, but winged like an eagle and its forelegs feathered and armed with eagle's claws instead of hooves. He entered the chariot and that little martlet sat on his knee. With a whir of wings the wild coarsest sprang skyward. The night about them was like the tumult of bubbles about a diver's ears diving in a deep pool under a smooth steep rock in a mountain cataract. Time was swallowed up in speed. The world reeled and it was but as the space between two deep breaths till that strange coarser spread wide his rainbow wings and slanted down the night over a great island that slumbered on a slumbering sea with letter aisles about it. A country of rock mountains and hill pastures and many waters all a glimmer in the moonshine. They landed within a gate crowned with golden lions. Lessingham came down from the chariot and the little black martlet circled about his head showing him a U-Avenue leading from the gates. As in a dream he followed her. And of the qualities and conditions of the lords of demon land and of the embassy sent unto them by King Gerais XI and of the answer there too. The eastern stars were paling to the dawn as Lessingham followed his conductor along the grass walk between the shadowy ranks of Irish youths that stood like soldiers, mysterious and expectant in the darkness. The grass was bathed in night dew and great white lilies sleeping in the shadows of the youths loaded the air of that garden with fragrance. Lessingham felt no touch of the ground beneath his feet and when he stretched out his hand to touch a tree his hand passed through branch and leaves as though they were unsubstantial as a moon-beam. The little martlet, a lighting on his shoulder, laughed in his ear. Child of earth, she said, dost think we are here in dream-land? He answered nothing and she said, this is no dream. Thou first of the children of men or at come to Mercury where thou and I will journey up and down for a season to show thee the lands and oceans, the forests, plains, and ancient mountains, cities and palaces of this world, Mercury, and the doings of them that dwell therein. But here thou canst not handle ought neither make the fork wear of thee, not though thou shout thy throat hoarse for thou and I walk here impulpable and invisible as it were two dreams walking. There were now on the marble steps which led from the U-walk to the terrace opposite the great gate of the castle. No need to unbar gates to thee and me, said the martlet, as they passed beneath the darkness of that ancient portal, carved with strange devices, and cleaned through the massy timbers of the bolted gate, thickly riveted with silver, into the inner court. Go we into the lofty presence chamber and there tarry a while. Morning is kindling the upper air and folk will soon be stirring in the castle, for they lie not longer bed when day begins in demon-land. For be it known to thee, or earth-born, that this land is demon-land, and this castle the castle of Lord Jus, and this day now dawning his birthday, when the demons hold high festival in Jus' castle to do honour unto him, and to his brethren Spitfire and Goldry Bluscore, and these and their fathers before them bear rule from time immemorial in demon-land and have the lordship over all the demons. She spoke, and the first low beams of the sun smote a javelin-like through the eastern windows, and the freshness of morning breathed and shimmered in that lofty chamber, chasing the blue and dusky shades of departed night to the corners and recesses and to the rafters of the vaulted roof. Surely no potentate of earth, not Cresus, not the great king, not Minos in his royal palace in Crete, not all the pharaohs, not Queen Semiramis, nor all the kings of Babylon and Nineveh had ever a throne-room to compare in glory with that high-presence chamber of the lord's demon-land. Its walls and pillars were of snow-white marble, every vein whereof was set with small gems, rubies, corals, garnets, and pink topaz. Seven pillars on either side bore up the shadowy vault of the roof. The roof-tree and beams were of gold, curiously carved, the roof itself of mother of pearl. The side-isle ran behind each row of pillars and seven paintings on the western side faced seven spacious windows on the east. At the end of the hall, upon a dais, stood three high seats, the arms of each composed of two hippogriffs wrought in gold, with wings spread, and the legs of the seats, the legs of the hippogriffs. But the body of each high seat was of monstrous size. The left-hand seat a black opal, a sparkle with steel-blue fire. The next a fire-opal, as it were a burning coal. The third seat an Alexandrite, purple like wine by night, but deep sea-green by day. Ten more pillars stood in semicircle behind the high seats, bearing up above them and the dais a canopy of gold. The benches that ran from end to end of the lofty chamber were of cedar, inlaid with coral and ivory, and so were the tables that stood before the benches. The floor of the chamber was tessellated of marble and green tourmaline, and on every square of tourmaline was carved the image of a fish, as the dolphin, the conger, the catfish, the salmon, the tunny, the squid, and other wonders of the deep. Hangings of tapestry were behind the high seats, worked with flowers, snakes' head, tap-dragon, dragon-mouth, and their kind, and on the dado below the windows were sculptures of birds and beasts and creeping things. But a great wonder of this chamber, and a marvel to behold, was how the capital of every one of the four and twenty pillars was hewn from a single precious stone, carved by the hand of some sculptor of long ago into the living form of a monster. Here was a harpy with a screaming mouth, so wondrously cut in ochre tinted jade, it was a marvel to hear no scream from her. Here in wine-yellow topaz a flying fire-drake, there a cockatrice made of a single ruby, there a star sapphire the colour of moonlight, cut for a cyclops, so that the rays of the star trembled from his single eye. Salamanders, mermaids, chimeras, wild men of the woods, leviathans, all hewn from faultless gems, thrice the bulk of a big man's body, velvet dark sapphires, crystal light, beryl, amethyst, and the yellow zircon that is like transparent gold. To give light to the presence chamber were seven escobuncles, greatest pumpkins, hung in order down the length of it, and nine fair moonstones standing in order on silver pedestals between the pillars on the dais. These jewels, drinking in the sunshine by day, gave it forth during the hours of darkness in a radiance of pink light and a soft effulgence as of moon-beams. And yet another marvel, the nether side of the canopy over the high seats, was encrusted with lapis lazuli, and in that feigned dome of heaven burned the twelve signs of the zodiac, every star a diamond that shone with its own light. But fork now began to be a stir in the castle, and there came a score of serving men into the presence chamber, with brooms and brushes, cloths and leathers to garnish it, and burnish the golden jewels of the chamber. Lissom they were, and sprightly of gait, of fresh complexion of fair haired, horns grew on their heads. When their tasks were accomplished they departed, and the presence began to fill with guests. A joy it was to see such a shifting maze of velvets, furs, curious needle-works, and cloth of tissue, tiffanies, laces, ruffs, goodly chains, and carcinets of gold, such glitter of jewels and weapons, such nodding of the plumes the demons wore in their hair, half veiling the horns that grew upon their heads. Some were sitting on the benches, were leaning on the polished tables, some walking forth and back upon the shining floor. Here and there were women among them. Women saw fair one had said, it is surely the white-armed Helen this one, this Arcadian Achilles for Aphrodite's picture. This Thayus, for whom great Alexander, to pleasure her fantasy, did burn Persepolis like a candle. This, she that was wrapped by the dark god from the flowering fields of Enna, to be queen forever among the dead that be departed. Now came a stir near the stately doorway, a lessing and beheld a demon of burly frame and noble port, richly attired. His face was ruddy and somewhat freckled, his forehead wide, his eyes calm and blue like the sea. His beard, thick and tawny, was parted and brushed back and upwards on either side. Tell me, my little marthlet, said lessing them, is this Lord Jus? This is not Lord Jus, answered the marthlet, nor all so worshipful as he. The Lord Thou seest his vol, who dwelleth under cartadza by the salt sea. A great sea-captain is he, and one that did service to the cause of demon-land and of the whole world besides in the late wars against the ghouls. But cast thine eyes again towards the door, where one standeth amid a knot of friends, tall and somewhat stooping, in a coarslet of silver and a cloak of old brocaded silk, coloured like tarnished gold. Something like to vol in feature, but swarthy and with bristling black mustachios. I see him, said lessing them, this is. Not so, said marthlet. Tis but vis, brother to vol. He is wealthiest in goods of all the demons, save the three brethren only, and Lord brand up to ha. And who is this? asked lessing them, pointing to one of light and brisk step and humorous eye, who in that moment met vol, and engaged him in converse apart. Handsome of face he was, albeit somewhat long-nosed and sharp-nosed, keen and hard filled with life and the joy of it. Here, though, beholdest, answered she, Lord Zigg, the far-famed tamer of horses, well-loved is he among the demons, for he is merry of mood and a mighty man of his hands, with all, when he leadeth his horseman against the enemy. Vol threw up his beard and laughed a great laugh at some jest that Zigg whispered in his ear, and lessing them leaned forward into the hall if happily he might catch what was said. The home of talk drowned the words, but leaning forward, lessing them saw where the arous curtains behind the dais parted for a moment, and one of princely bearing advanced past the high seats down the body of the hall. His gate was delicate, as off some lie the beast of prayer newly workin' out of slumber, and he greeted with lazy grace the many friends who hailed his entrance. Very tall was that lord, a slender of build, like a girl. His tunic was of silk, coloured like a wild rose, and embroidered in gold with representations of flowers and thunderbolts. Jewels glitted on his left hand, and on the golden bracelets on his arms, and on the fillet twined among the golden curls of his hair, set with plumes of the kingbird of paradise. His horns were dyed with saffron, and inlaid with filly-greed work of gold. His buskins were laced with gold, and from his belt hung a sword, narrow of blade and keen, the hilt rough with barrels and black diamonds. Strangely light and delicate was his frame and seeming, yet with a sense of slumbering power beneath, as the delicate peak of a snow mountain seen afar in the low red rays of morning. His face was beautiful to look upon, and softly coloured like a girl's face, and his expression one of gentle melancholy, mixed with some disdain. But fiery glints awoke at intervals in his eyes, and the lines of swift determination hovered round the mouth below his cold mustachios. At last, murmured Lessingham, at last, Lord Jus. Little art thou to blame, said the mark, looked for this misprision, for scarce could a lordly sight have joyed thine eyes. Yet is this not Jus, but Lord Brandoc de Ha, to whom all demon land west of Chalgreth and Strapardon o'er the legions, the rich vineyards of Crothering, the broad pastoral lands of Fales, and all the lands and their crag-bound fastnesses? Think not, because he effecteth silks and jewels like a queen, and carriers himself light and dainty as a silver birch tree on the mountain, that his hand is light, or his courage doubtful in war. For years was he held for the third best manate arms in all Mercury, along with these, Goldry Bluscoe, and Garice the Tenth of Witchland. And Garice he slew, nine summers back in single combat, when the witches harried in Goblinland, and Brandoc de Ha led five hundred and four score demons to succour Gaslock, the king of that country. And now can non-surpass Lord Brandoc de Ha in feats of arms, save Pachance Goldry alone. Yet low, she said, as a sweet and wild music stole on the ear, and the guests turned towards the dais, and the hangings parted, at last the triple lordship of demon land. Strike softly music, smile feats on this festal day. Joy and safe days shine for this world and demon land. Turn thy gaze first on him who walks in majesty in the midst, his tunic of olive green velvet ornamented with devices of hidden meaning in thread of gold and beads of chrysalite. Mark how the buskins clasping his stalwart carves glitter with gold and amber. Mark the dusky cloak streamed with gold and lined with blood-red silk. A charmed cloak, made by the silks in forgotten dais, bringing good hap to the wearer, so he be true of heart and nor dastard. Mark him that weareth it, his sweet dark countenance, the violent fire in his eyes, the sombre warmth of his smile like autumn woods in late sunshine. This is Lord Just, lord of this age remembering castle, than whom none hath more worship in wide demon land. Somewhat he knoweth of art yet useeth not that art, for it sappeth the life and strength, nor is it held worthy that a demon should put trust in that art, but rather in his own might and man. Now turn thine eyes to him that leaneth on Just's left arm. Shorter, but mayhap sturdier than he, apparelled in black silk that shimmers with gold as he moveeth, and crowned with black eagles' feathers among his horns and yellow hair, his face is wild and keen like eagles, and from his bristling brows the eyes dart glances sharp as a glancing spear. A faint flame, pallid like the fire of a will of the wisp, breatheth ever and anon from his distended nostrils. This is Lord Spitfire, impetuous in war. Last, behold on Just's right hand, Yon lord that bulks mighty as Hercules, yet steppeth lightly as a heifer. The thews and sinews of his great cripple as he moves beneath the skin whiter than ivory. His cloak of cloth of gold is heavy with jewels. His tunic of black cendoline hath great hearts worked thereon in rubies and red silk thread. Slung from his shoulders clanks a two-handed sword, the pommel a huge star ruby, carven in the image of a heart, for the heart is his sign and symbol. This is that sword forged by the elves, wherewith he slew the sea-monster as there may be something on the wall. Noble is he of countenance, most like to his brother Just, but darker brown of hair, and rudier of hue, and bigger of cheekbone. Look well on him, for never shall thine eyes behold a greater champion than the lord Goldry Blusco, captain of the hosts of demon-land. Now, when the greetings were done and the strands of the loots and recorders sighed, and lost themselves in the shadowy vault of gems made in form of cups with ancient wine, and the demon's caroose to lord Just deep-drafts in honour of this day of his nativity. And now they were ready to set forth by twos and threes into the parks and pleasantries, some to take their pleasure about the fair gardens and fishponds, some to hunt wild game among the wooded hills, some to disport themselves at coits, or tennis, or riding at the ring, or martial exercises. That's so they might spend a libelong day as befit as high holiday in pleasure and action without care, and thereafter revel in the lofty presence chamber till night grew old with eating and drinking and all delight. But as they were upon going forth, a trumpet was sounded without three strident blasts. What killjoy have we here? said Spitfire. The trumpet soundeth only for travellers from the outlands. I feel it in my bones some rascal has come to Gaeling, one that bringeth ill-happ in his pocket, and a shadower thwart the sun on this our day of festival. Speak no word of ill-or-man, answered Joss, who so ere it be we will straight dispatch his business and so fall to pleasure indeed. Some run to the gear to bring him in. The serving man hastened, and returned, saying, Lord, it is an ambassador from which land and his train. Their ship made land at looking Havon Ness at nightfall. They slept on board, and your soldiers gave them escort to Gaeling at break of day. He craved with present audience. From which land, ha? said Joss. Such smokes use ever to go before the fire. Shells bid the fellow, said Spitfire, wait on our pleasure. It is pity such should poison our gladness. Goldry laughed and said, Whom hath he sent us? Laxes think you? With us again, for that vile part of his practised against us off Cortadze, detestably falsifying his word he had given us. Joss said to the serving man, Thou sawest the ambassador, who is he? Lord, answered he, his face was strange to me. He is little of stature, and, by your heinous leave, the most unlike to a great lord of which land that ever I saw. And, by your leave, for all the marvellous, rich and sumptuous auto-weareth, he is very like a false jewel in a rich casing. Well, said Joss, as our draught sweetens not in the waiting, call we in the ambassador. Lord Joss sat in the high seat midmost of the dais, with Goldry on his right in the seat of Black Opal, and on his left Spitfire, throned on the Alexandrite. On the dais sat likewise those other lords of demon-land, and the guests of lower degree thronged polished tables, as the wide doors opened on their silver hinges, and the ambassador, with pomp and ceremony, pierced up the shining floor of marble and green tourneline. Why, what a beastly fellow is this, said Lord Goldry in his brother's ear. His hairy hands reached down to his knees, a shufflet in his walk like a hobbled jackass. I like not the dirty face of the ambassador, said Lord Zig. His nose siteth flat on the face of him, as it were a dab of clay, and I can see pat up his nostrils a summer's-dead journey into his head. If up a lip bespeak him not a rare spouter of rank-fusty and perdition catch me, worried a finger's-breadth longer, I might tuck it into his collar to keep his chin warm over winter's night. I like not the smell of the ambassador, said Lord Brandoc de Ha, and he called for censors and sprinklers of lavender and rose-water to purify the chamber, and let open the crystal windows so that heaven might enter and make all sweet. So the ambassador walked up the shining floor and stood before the lords of demon-land that sat upon the high seats between the golden hypocrites. He was robed in a long mantel of scarlet, lined with ermine, with crabs, wood-lice and centipedes worked thereon in golden thread. His head was covered with a black velvet cap with a peacock's feather fastened with a brooch of silver. Supported by his train-bearers and leaning on his golden staff, he with raucous accent delivered his mission. Just Goldry and Spitfire and ye other demons, I come before you as the ambassador of Garise the Eleventh, most glorious king of witch-land, Lord and Great Duke of Buteney and Estre-Marine, Commander of Shuland, Thramne, Mingos and Permio, and Highwarden of the Esimorcian marches, Great Duke of Tres, King Paramount of Bestria and Neverea, and Prince of Ar, Great Lord over the country of Agedia, Maltrani and of Baltari and Turribia, and Lord of many other countries, most glorious and most great, whose power and glory is over all the world and whose name shall endure for all generations. And first I bid you be bound by that reverence for my sacred office of envoy from the king, which is accorded by all people and potentates, which is be utterly barbarous to ambassadors and envoys. Speak and fear not, as it just, thou hast mine oath, and that hath never been foresworn to witch or other barbarian. The ambassador shot out his lips in an awe and threatened with his head, then grinned, laying bare his sharp and mis-shape and teeth and proceeded, Thus saith King Garise, great and glorious, and charged with me to deliver it to you neither adding any word nor taking away. I have it in mind that no ceremony of homage or fealty hath been performed before me by the dwellers in my province of Demonland. As the rustling of dry leaves strewn in a flagged court when a sudden wind strikeeth them there went a stir among the guests. Nor might the Lord's spitfire contain his wrath, but springing up and clapping hand to sword-hilt as minded to do a hurt to the ambassador, he cried, I am not the demons of free people, and is it to be endured that which land should commission this slave to cast insults in our teeth and this in our own castle? A murmur went about the hall, and here and there a fork rose from their seats. The ambassador drew down his head between his shoulders like a tortoise bearing his teeth and blinking with his small eyes. But Lord Brandoc de Ha, lightly laying his hand on spitfire's arm, said, the ambassador hath not ended his message, cousin, and thou hast frightened him. Have patience and spoil not the comedy. We shall not like words to answer kinger eyes. Nor nor swords if he must have them. But it shall not be said of us of Demonland that it needeth but a boorish message to turn us from our ancient courtesy towards ambassadors and heralds. So spake, Lord Brandoc de Ha, in lazy half-mocking tone as one who but idly returneth the ball of conversation, yet clearly so that all might hear. And therewith the murmurs died down, and spitfire said, I am tame. Say thine errand freely, and imagine not that we shall hold the answerable for ought thou sayest but him that sent thee. Whose humble mouthpiece I only am, said the ambassador, somewhat gathering courage, and who, saving your reverence, lacketh not the will nor the power to take revenge for any outrage done upon his servants. Thus sayeth the king, I therefore summon and command you, just, spitfire and goldry bluzcore, to make haste and come to me in which land in my fortress of Carsey, and there dutifully kiss my toe in witness before all the world, that I am your lord and king, and rightful overlord of all Demonland. Gravely and without gesture, Lord just hearkened to the ambassador, leaning back in his high seat with either arm thrown or thwart the arched neck of the hippogriff. Goldry, smiling scornfully, toyed with the hilt of his great sword. Spitfire sat strained and glowering, the sparks crackling at his nostrils. Thou hast delivered all, said just. All, answered the ambassador. Thou shalt have thine answer, said just. While we take reed thereon eat and drink, and he beckoned the cook-bearer to pour out bright wine, for the ambassador. But the ambassador excused himself, saying that he was not a thirst and that he had store of food and wine aboard of his ship, which should suffice his needs and those of his following. Then, said Lord Spitfire, no marvel, though, the spawn of which land fear venom in the cup. There who work commonly such villainy against their enemies, as witness risador of goblin land whom coarsest murdered with a poisonous draught, back still in the knees lest themselves be so intertained to their destruction. And snatching the cup, he quaffed it to the dregs and dashed it on the marble floor before the ambassador, so that it was shivered into pieces. And the lords of demon land rose up and withdrew behind the flowery hangings into a chamber apart to determine if their answer to the message sent unto them by King Garice of which land. When they were private together, Spitfire spake and said, is it to be borne that the king would put such shame and mockery upon us? Could a not at the least have made a son of Corundor of Corsus his ambassador to bring us his defiance, instead of this filthiest of his domestics? A gibbering dwarf fit only to make them gab and game at their tippling bouts when there be three parts senseless with boozing. Lord just smiled somewhat scornfully. With wisdom, he said, and with foresight hath which land made choice of his time to move against us. Knowing that thirty and three of our well-built ships are sunken in cartazza sound in the battle with the ghouls, and but fourteen remain to us. Now that the ghouls are slain, every soul, and utterly abolished from this world, and saw the great curse and peril of all this world ended by the sword and great valour of demon land alone, now seem at the happy moment unto these late mouth-friends to fall upon us. For have not the witches a strong fleet of ships, since their whole fleet fled at the beginning of their fight with ghouls, leaving us to bear the burden. And now are they minded for this new treason to set upon us traitorously and suddenly in this disadvantage. For the king well-judgeeth we can carry no army to witch-land, nor do aught in his despite, but must be long months of ship-building. And doubt not, he holdeth an armament ready aboard at Tennamos to sail hither if he get the answer he knoweth we shall send him. Sit we at ease, then, said Goldry, sharpening our swords, and let arm is across the salt sea. Not a witch shall land in demon land, but shall leave here his blood and bones to make fat our cornfield and our vineyards. Rather, said Spitfire, apprehend this rascal, and put to seat a day with the fourteen ships left us. We can surprise witch-land in his strong place at Carsey, sack it and give him to the crawls to peck at, or ever he is well awake to the swiftness of our answer. That is my counsel. We shall not take him sleeping. Be certain that his ships are ready and watching in the witch-land seas, prepared against any rash onset. It were folly to set our neck in the noose, and little glory to demon land to await his coming. This, then, is my read. I will bid Gouraise to the duelo, and make offer to him to let lie on the fortune thereof the decision of this quarrel. A good read if it might be fulfilled, said Goldry, but never will he fight against thee or against any of us. Nevertheless the thing shall be brought about. Is not Gouraise a mighty wrassler, and hath he not in his palace in Carsey the skulls and bones of ninety-and-nine great champions whom he hath vanquished and slain in that exercise? Puffed up beyond measure is he in his own conceit, and forks aid is a grief to him that none has been found this long while that dost wrassle with him, and warfully he pineeth for the hundredth. He shall wrassle a fall with me. Now this seemed good to them all. So when they had talked on it a while and concluded what they would do, glad of heart the Lords of Demonland turned them back to the lofty presence-chamber. And their Lord just spik, and said, Demons, ye have heard the words which the King of Witchland, in the overweening pride and shamelessness of his heart, hath spoken unto us by the mouth of this ambassador. Now this is our answer, which my brother shall give the Lord Goldry Bloodscore, and we charge thee or ambassador to deliver it truly, neither adding any word nor taking away. And the Lord Goldry spake. We, the Lords of Demonland, do utterly scorn thee, garage the eleventh, for the greatest of dastards, in that thou basely fleddest and forsookest us thy sworn confederates in the sea battle against the ghouls. Our swords which in that battle ended so great a curse and peril to all this world are not bent nor broken. There shall be sheathed in the bowels of thee and thy minions, coarsest to wit, and corund, and their sons and Carinius, and what other evil doers harbour in waterish witch-land, sooner than one little sea-pink growing on the cliffs of Demonland shall do thee obeisance. But that thou mayest, if so thou wilt, feel our power somewhat, I, Lord Goldry Bloodscore, make thee this offer, that thou and I do match ourselves singly each against other, to castle three falls at the court of the Red Foliott, who inclineth neither to our side nor to thine in this quarrel. And we will bind ourselves by mighty oaths to these conditions, that if I overcome thee, the demons shall leave you of witch-land in peace, and ye them, and the witches shall forswear for ever their impudent claims on Demonland. But if thou, Garice, win the day, then thou hast the glory of that victory, and with all full liberty to thrust thy claims so spake the Lord Goldry Bloodscore, standing in great pride and splendor beneath the starry canopy, and scowling terribly on the ambassador from witch-land, so that the ambassador was abashed, and his knees smote together. And Goldry called for his scribe, and made him write the message for Garice the king in great characters on a roll of parchment, and the Lords of Demonland sealed it with their seals, and gave it to the ambassador. The ambassador took it and made his study part, when he was come to the stately doorway of the presence-chamber, being near the door and amongst his attendants, and away from the Lords of Demonland, he plucked up heart a little, and turned and said, Rashley, and to thy certain undoing, O Goldry Bloodscore, hast thou bitten our Lord the king to contend with thee in wrestling? For be thou never so mighty of limb, yet hath he overthrown as mighty, and he wrasleth not for sport, but will surely work thy life's decay, and keep the dead bones of thee with the bones of the ninety and nine champions whom he hath here too for laid low in that exercise. Therewith, because Goldry and the other Lords scowled upon him terribly, and the guests near the door felt a hooting and reviling of the witches, the ambassador went forth hastily, and hastily down the shining stairs and across the court, as one who fleeeth along a lane on a dark and windy night, daring not to turn his head, lest his eye behold some fearsome thing prepared to clasp him. So, speeding, he was fair to catch up about his knees the folds of his velvet cloak richly worked with crabs and creeping things, and huge whooping and laughter went up among the common lag of people without to behold his long and nerveless tail, thus bared to their unfriendly gears, in so much that they felt a shouting with one accord, though his mouth be foul he hath a fair tail, so ye not his tail, hurray for Garice who hath sent us a monkey for his ambassador. And with gybe and unmanly yell, the crowd hung lovingly upon the ambassador and his train, all the way down from Gaelin castle to the keys, so that it was like a sweet homecoming to him, to come on board his well-built ship, and have her roared a man out of looking heaven. So when they had rounded looking heaven nests, and were free of the land, their hoisted sail, and voyaged before a favouring breeze eastward over the teeming deep to which land. Chapter 2 of The Worm or Oroboros This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Jason Mills The Worm or Oroboros by E. R. Edison Chapter 2 The Rassling for Demonland Of the prognostics which troubled Lord Graw concerning the meeting between the King of Witchland and the Lord Goldry Blusco, and how they met, and of the issue of the Rassling. How could I have fallen asleep, cried Lessingham? Where is the castle of the demons? And how did we leave the Great Presence Chamber where they saw the ambassador? For he stood on rolling uplands that leaned to the sea, treeless on every side as far as the eye might reach, and on three sides shimmered the sea, kissed by the sun, and roughened by the salt-lad wind that charged over the downs, charioting clouds without number through the sea. The little black martlet answered him, My Hippogriff traveleth as well in time as in space. Days and weeks have been left behind us in what seemeth to thee but the twinkling of an eye, and thou standest in the foliot aisles, a land happy under the mild regiment of a peaceful prince, on the day appointed by King Garice to wrestle with Lord Goldry Blusco. Terrible must be the Rassling betwixt two such champions, and dark the issue thereof. When my heart is afraid for Goldry Blusco, big and strong though he be, and unconquered in war, where there hath not arisen in all the ages such a rassler as this Garice, and strong he is, and hard and unwearying, and skilled in every art of attack and defence, and subtle with all, and cruel and fell like a serpent. Where they stood the down was cut by a coom that descended to the sea, and overhanging the coom was the palace of the red foliot, rambling and low, with many little towers and battlements, built of stones hewn from the wall of the coom, so that it was hard from a distance to discern what was palace, and what native rock. Behind the palace stretched a meadow, flat and smooth, carpeted with the close wary turf of the downs. At either end of the meadow were booths set up, to the north the booths of them of witch-land, and to the south the booths of the demons. In the midst of the meadow was a space marked out with withies, either way for the rassling ground. Only the birds of the air and the sea-wind were abroad as then. Save those that walked armed before the witch's booths, six in company, harnessed us for battle in burnies of shining bronze, with greaves and shields of bronze, and helms that glanced in the sun. Five were proper slender youths, the eldest of whom were not yet beardful grown, black-browed and great of jaw. The sixth, huge as a neat, topped them by half a head. Age had flecked with grey the beard that spread over his big chest to his belt stiffened with studs of iron. But the vigor of youth was in his glance, and in his voice, and in the tread of his foot, and in his fist so lightly handling his burly spear. Behold, wonder and lament, said the marklet, that the innocent eye of dare should be enforced still to look upon the children of night everlasting. Corrand of witch-land, and his cursed body. Lasingham thought, a most fiery politician is my little marklet, damned fiends and angels, and nothing betwixt for her, but I'll dance to none of their tunes, but wait for these things unfolding. So walked those back and forth as caged lions before the witches' booths, until Corrand halted and leaning on his spear, said to one of his sons, go in and seek out Graw that I may speak with him. When the son of Corrand went, Lord Graw, that came with furtive step, yet goodly and fair to behold, the nose of him was hooked like a sickle, and his eyes great and fair like the eyes of an ox, inscrutable as there. Lean and spare was his frame, pale was his face and pale his delicate hands, and his long black beard was tightly curled and bright as the coat of a black retriever. Corrand said, how is it with the king? He chafeth to be at it, and to pass away the time he playeth at dice with Carinius, and the look goeth against the king. What maketh thou of that?" asked Corrand. And Graw said, the fortune of the dice jumpeth not commonly with the fortune of war. Corrand grunted in his beard, and laying his large hand on Lord Graw's shoulder, speak to me a little apart, he said. And when they were private, dark and not counsel said Corrand to me and my brother, have I not these four years past been as a brother unto thee, and wilt thou still be secret to warders? But Graw smiled a sad smile and said, why should we by words of ill omen strike yet another blow where the tree tottereth? Corrand groaned. Omen said he increase upon us from that time forth when the king accepted the challenge, evilly, and flatly against thy counsel and mine and the counsel of all the great ones in the land. Corrand made him fair, having ordained his destruction and our humbling before these demons. And he said, Omen's thicken upon us, O Graw, first the night raven that went with the shins round about the palace of Carsey, that night when the king accepted this challenge, and we were all drunk and with wine after our great feasting and surfiting in his halls. Next the stumbling of the king, when as he went upon the poop of the long ship which beareth on this voyage to these islands. That poured out onto us yesterday night. And throughout the devilish pride and bragging humour of the king. No more. He is fair. And the dice fall against him. Graw spake, and said, O Corrand, I will not hide it from thee that my heart is heavy as thy heart, under shadow of ill to be. For as I lay sleeping betwixt the strokes of night, a dream of the night stood by my bed, and beheld me with a glance so fell that I was all adred quaking with fear. And it seemed to me that the dream smote the roof above my bed, and the roof opened and disclosed the outer dark. And in the dark travelled a bearded star, and the night was quick with fiery signs, and blood was on the roof and great gouts of blood on the walls and on the cornice of my bed. And the dream screeched like the screech owl, and cried, Which land from thy hand, O king? And me thought the whole world was lighted in a lull. And with a great cry I will walk out of the dream. Thou art wise, said Corrand, and be like the dream was a true dream, sent thee through the gate of Horn, and be like it for both of the events great and evil for the king, and for which land. Gros said, Disclose it not to the others, for none can strive with fear to gain the victory, and it would but cast down their hearts. But it is fitting we be ready against evil hap. If, which yet may the gods for offend, ill come out of this wrestling-boat, fail not every one of you, ere you act on any enterprise, to take counsel of me. Bear is back without brother behind it. Together must we do that we do. Thou hast my firm assurance, aunt, said Corrand. Now began a great company to come forth from the palace, and take thy stand on either side of the wrestling-ground. The red foliot sat in his car of polished ebony, drawn by six black horses with flowing man's and tales. Before him went his musicians, pipers and minstrels doing their craft, and behind him, fifty spearmen, weighed down with armour and ponderous shields that covered them from chin to toe. Their armour was stained with madder, in such wise that they seemed bathed in blood. Mile to look on was the red foliot, yet kingly. His skin was scarlet, like the head of the green woodpecker. He wore a diadem of silver, and robes of scarlet trimmed with black fur. So when the foliot were assembled, one stood forth with a horn at the command of the red foliot, and blew three blasts. Therewith came forth from their booths the lords of Demonland, and their men-at-arms, Jus, Goldry, Spitfire, and Brandoc de Ha, all armed as for battle, save Goldry, who was muffled in a cloak of cloth of gold, with great hearts worked thereon in red silk thread. And from their booths in turn came the lords of Witchland, all armed, and their fighting men. And little of was there in the glances they and the demons cast upon each other. In the midst stoked the king, his great limbs muffled like Goldry's in a cloak, and it was of black silk lined with black bearskin, and ornamented with crabs worked in diamonds. The crown of Witchland, fashioned like a hideous crab, and encrusted with jewels so thickly that none might discern the ironware of it that was framed, weighed on his beatling brow. His beard was black and bristly, spared shaped and thick, his hair close cropped. His upper lip was shaped, displaying his sneering mouth, and from the darkness below his eyebrows looked forth eyes that showed a green light, like those of a wolf. Corrent walked at the king's left elbow, his giant frame an inch less in stature than the king. Corineus went on the right, wearing a rich cloak of sky-blue over his shining armor. Toll and soldier-like was Corineus, and young and goodly to look upon, with swaggering gait and insolent eye, thick-lipped with all and somewhat heavy of feature, and the sun shone brightly on his shaven jowl. Now the red-foliot let sound the horn again, and standing in his ebony car he read out the conditions as thus, O go rise the eleventh, most glorious king of Witchland, and O Lord Goldry Blusco, captain of the hosts of Demonland! It is compact betwixt you, and made fast by mighty oaths whereof I, the red-foliot amkeeper, that ye shall rassle three falls together on these conditions. Namely, that if go rise the king be victorious, then he hath that glory, and with all full liberty to enforce with the sword his claims of lordship of a many-mountained Demonland. But if victory fall to the Lord Goldry Blusco, then shall the demons let the witches abide in peace, and there them, and the witches shall foreswear for ever their claims of lordship over the demons. And you, O king, and you, O Goldry Blusco, are likewise bound by oath to rassle fairly, and to abide by the ruling of me, the red-foliot, whom ye are content to choose as your umpire, and I do swear to judge justly between you, and the laws of your rastling are that neither shall strangle his adversary with his hands, nor bite him, nor claw nor scratch his flesh, nor porch out his eyes, nor smite him with his fists, nor do any other unfair thing against him. But in all other respects ye shall rassle freely together, and he that shall be brought to earth with hip or shoulder shall be accounted fallen. The red-foliot said, Have I spoken well, O king, and do you swear to these conditions? The king said, I swear, the red-foliot asked in like manner, Dost thou swear to these conditions, O Lord Goldry Blusco? And Goldry answered him, I swear. Without more ado, the king stepped into the rastling-ground on his side, and Goldry Blusco on his, and they cast aside their rich mantles, and stood forth naked for the rastling. And folk stood silent for admiration of the thews and sinews of those twain, doubting which were mightier of build and likelier to gain the victory. The king stood taller by a little, and was longer in the arm than Goldry. But the great frame of Goldry showed excellent proportions, each part wedded to each as in the body of a god, and if either were brawnier of chest it was he, and he was thicker of neck than the king. Now the king mocked Goldry, saying, Rebellious hound, it is fit that I make demonstration unto thee, and unto these foliots and demons that witness our meeting, that I am thy king and lord, not by virtue only of this micron of witch-land, which I thus put by for an hour, but even by the power of my body over thine, and by my might and man. Be satisfied that I will not have done with thee until I have taken away thy life, and sent thy soul squealing bodiless into the unknown. And thy skull and thy marrow-bones will I have a way to carcay, to my palace, to be a token unto all the world, that I have been the bane of an hundredth great champion by my rastling, and I am not least among them that I have slain in that exercise. Thereafter, when I have eaten and drunk and made merry in my royal palace at carcay, I will sail with my armies over the teeming deep to many-mountained demon-land, and it shall be my footstool, and these other demons the slaves of me, yea, and the slaves of my slaves. But the Lord Goldry-Blusko laughed lightly, and said to the red foliot, O red foliot, I am not come hither to contend with the king of witch-land in windy railing, but to match my strength against his, against sinew. Now they stood ready, and the red foliot made a sign with his hand, and the cymbals clashed for the first bout. At the clash the two champions advanced and clasped one another with their strong arms, each with his right arm below and left arm above the other's shoulder, until the flesh shrank beneath the might of their arms that were as brazen bands. They swayed a little this way and that, as great trees swaying in a storm, their legs planted firmly, and there seemed to grow out of the ground like the trunks of oak trees. Nor did either yield ground to the other, nor might either win a master hold upon his enemy. So swayed they back and forth for a long time, breathing heavily, and now Goldry, gathering his strength, got the king lifted a little from the ground, and was minded to swing him round and so dash him to earth. But the king in that moment, when he found himself lifted, leaned forward mightily, and smote his heels swiftly round Goldry's leg striking him behind and a little above the ankle, in such wires that Goldry was feigned to loosen his hold on the king, and greatly folk marveled that he was able in that plight to save himself from being thrown backward by the king. So they gripped again until red wheels rose on their backs and shoulders by reason of the grievous clasping of their arms, and the king on a sudden twisted his body sideways with his left side turned from Goldry and catching with his leg Goldry's leg on the inside of the great muscle of the calf, and hugging him yet closer, he lurched mightily against him, striving to pull Goldry backward and so fall upon him and crush him as they fell to earth. But Goldry leaned violently forward, ever tightening his hold on the king, and so violently bear he forward in his strength that the king was balked of his design, and clutched together they both fell to earth side by side with a heavy crash, and laid him used while one might count half a score. The red foliot proclaimed them even in this bout, and each returned to his fellows to take breath and rest for a space. Now while they rested, a flitter-mouse flew forth from the witch-land booths and went widdershins round the rustling ground, and so returned silently when she came. Lord Groor saw her, and his heart waxed heavy within him. He spoke to Korund and said, Needs must that I make trial even at this late hour if there be not any means to turn the king into a further adventuring of himself. Her all be lost. Korund said, Be it as thy willed, but it will be in vain. So Groor stood by the king, and said, Lord, give over this rustling. Great of growth and mightier of limb than any that you did overcome a foretime is this demon. Yet have you vanquished him? For you did throw him as we plainly saw, and wrongfully hath the red foliot adjudged you evenly matched, because in the throwing of him was not worth. Scent not the fates by another bout. Yours is the victory in this rustling. And now we, your servants, wait but your not to make a sudden onslaught on these demons and slay them, as we may lightly overcome them, taken at unawares. And for the foliotes they be peaceful and sheep-like folk, and will be held in awe when we have smitten the demons with the edge of the sword. So may you depart, O king, into subjection. The king looked sourly upon Lord Gro, and said, thy council is unacceptable and unseasonable. What lieth behind it? Gro answered, there have been almonds, O king. And the king said, what almonds? Gro answered and said, I will not hide it from you, O my lord the king, that in my sleep about the darkest hour a dream of the night came to my bed, and beheld me with a glance so fell as if my head stood up and pale terror got hold upon me. And me thought the dream smort up the roof above my bed, and the roof yawned to the naked air of the midnight that laboured with fiery signs, and a bearded star travelling in the houseless dark. And I beheld the roof and the walls one gore of blood, and the dream screeched like the scree-chowl crying, which land from thy hand, O king? And there with the whole world seemed lighted in one flame, and out I awoke sweating from the dream. But the king rolled his eyes in anger upon lord Gro, and said, well am I served and faithfully by such false scheming foxes as thou. It ill fits your turn that I should carry this deed to the end with mine own hand only, and in the blindness of your impudent folly ye come to me with tales made for scaring of babes, praying me gently to forego my glory that thou and thy fellows may make yourselves big in the world's eyes by deeds of arms. But Gro said, lord, it is not so. But the king would not hear him, but said, and he thinks it is for loyal subjects to seek greatness in the greatness of their king, nor desire to shine of their own brightness. As for this demon, when thou sayest that I have overcome him, thou speakest a gross and impudent lie. In this bout I did but measure myself with him. But thereby know I of assurity that when I put forth my might he will not be able to withstand me. And all ye shall shortly behold how as one shatter at the stoke of Angelica I will break and shatter the limbs of this golden blusco. As for thee, false friend, subtle fox, unfaithful servant, this long time am I grown weary of thee, slinking up and down my palace, devising darkly things I know not. Thou, that art not akin to which land, but an outlander, a goblin exile, a serpent warmed in my bosom to my hurt. But these things shall have an end. When I have put down this golden blusco then shall I have leisure to put down thee also. And grow bowed in sorrow of heart before the anger of the king and held his peace. Now was the horn blown for the second bout and they stepped into the wrestling-ground. At the clashing of the cymbals the king sprang at Goldry as the panther springeth, and with the rush bear him backward a well-knife forth of the wrestling-ground. But when they were carried almost among the demons where they stood to behold the contest, Goldry swung to the left, and strove as before to get the king lifted off his feet. But the king foiled him and bent his ponderous weight upon him so that Goldry's spine was like to have been crushed beneath the murdering violence of the king's arms. Then did the lord Goldry blusco show forth his great power as a wrassler. For even under the murdering clasp of the king he, by the might that was in the muscles of his brawny chest, shook the king first to the right and then to the left. And the king's hold was loosened, and all his skill and mastery but narrowly served him from a grievous fall. Nor did Goldry delay nor ponder how next to make trial of the king, but sudden as the lightning he slackened his hold and turned and with his back under the king's belly gave a mighty lift, and there that witnessed it stood amazed in expectancy to see the king thrown over Goldry's head. Yet for all his striving might not Goldry get the king lifted clean off the ground. Twice and three times he strove, and at each trial he seemed further from his aim, and the king bettered his hold. And at the fourth essay that Goldry made to lift the king over his back and fling him headlong, the king thrust him forward and tripped him from behind, so that Goldry was crawled on his hands and knees, and the king clung to him from behind and passed his arms round his body beneath the armpits and so back over the shoulders, being minded to clasp his two hands at the back of Goldry's neck. Then said Corrand, the demon is sped already. By this hold hath the king brought to their bend more than three score famous champions. He delayeth only till his fingers be knit together behind the neck of the accursed demon, to draw the head of him forward until the bones of the neck, or the breastbone, be burst in a sundae. He delayeth overlong for my peace, said Grove. The king's breath came out of him in great puffs and grunts, as he strained to bring his fingers to meet behind Goldry's neck. He thought else than the hugeness of his neck and burly chest, that saved the Lord Goldry Bluscoe in that hour from utter destruction. Crawled on his hands and knees, he could no wise escape from the hold of the king, neither lay hold on him in turn. How be it, because of the bigness of Goldry's neck and chest, it was impossible for the king to fasten that hold upon him, for all his striving. When the king perceived that this was sore, and that he but wasted his strength, he said, I will loose my hold on thee and let I stand again face to face, for I deem it unworthy to grapple on the ground like dogs. So they stood up, and rassled another while in silence. Soon the king made trial once again of the fall whereby he had sought to throw him in the first bout, twisting suddenly his right side against Goldry and catching with his leg Goldry's leg and therewith leaning against him with main force. And when, as before, Goldry bear forward with great violence, tightening his grip, the king lurched mightily against him, and, being still ill content to have missed his hold that never here too forward failed him, he thrust his fingers up Goldry's nose in his cruel anger, scratching and clawing at the delicate inner parts of the nostrils in such wise that Goldry was fair to draw back his head. Therewith the king, lurching against him yet more heavily, got him thrown aggrievous fall on his back, and himself fell atop of him, crushing him and stunning him on the earth. And the red foliot proclaimed garice the king victorious in this bout. Therewith all the king turned him back to his witches, that loudly acclaimed his mastery over Goldry. He said unto Lord Graw, it is as I have spoken, the testing first, next the bruising, and in the last bout the breaking and killing. And the king looked evilly on Graw. Graw answered him not a word, for his soul was grieved to see blood on the nails and fingers of the king's left hand, and he thought he knew that the king must have been so bested in this bout, seeing that he must do this beastly deed or ever he might overcome the might of his adversary. But the Lord Goldry bluskoe, when he was come to his senses and had gotten him up from that great fall, spoke to the red foliot in Mikkelroth, saying this devil hath overcome me by craft, doing that which it is a shame to do, in that he clawed me with his fingers up my nose. The sons of Korund raised an uproar at the words of Goldry, loudly crying that he was the greatest liar and dastard, and all they of Witchland shouted and cursed in like manner. But Goldry shouted in a voice like a brazen trumpet that was plain to hear above the clamour of the witches, O red foliot! Judge no fairly betwixt me and king Gerais as thou art sworn to do. Let him show his finger nails, if there be not blood on them. This fall is void, and I claim that we rassle it anew. And the Lords of Demonland in like manner this fall should be rassled anew. Now the red foliot had seen somewhat of what was done, and well was he minded to call the bout void. Yet had he foreborn to do this out of fear of King Gerais that had looked upon him with a basilisk's eye, threatening him. And now, while the red foliot was troubled in his mind, uncertain between the angry shouts of the witches and the demons, whether safety lay rather with his honour or with trickling to King Gerais, he took a word to Carinius, who went straight where, and standing by the red foliot, spake privily in his ear. And Carinius menaced the red foliot, and said, Beware, lest thy mind be swayed by the brow-beating of the demons. Rightfully hast thou adjudged the victory in this bout unto our Lord the King, and this talk of thrusting of fingers in the nose is but a pretext and a vile imagination of this gold ribloscoe, who, being thrown fairly before thine eyes and before us all, and perceiving himself unable to stand against the King, now thinketh with his swaggering he can bear it aware, and thinketh by cheats and subtleties to avoid defeat. If, against thine own beholding and the witness of us and the plighted word of the King, thou art so hardy as to hearken to the gulfful persuading of these demons, yet be think thee that the King hath over-born ninety and nine great champions in this exercise, and this shall be the hundredth, and be think thee, too, that which land lieth nearer to thine aisles than demon land by many days sailing. Hard shall it be for thee to abide the avenging sword of which land if thou do him despite, and against thy sworn author's umpire incline wrongfully to his enemies in this dispute. So spoke Carinius, and the red foliot was cowed. Albeit he believed in his heart that the King had done what thereof Goldry accused him, yet for terror of the King and of Carinius that stood by and threatened him to not speak his thought, but in sore perplexity gave order for the horn to be blown for the third bout. And it came to pass that the blowing of the horn that the flitter-mouse fared forth again from the booths of the witches, and going widish-ins round about the wrassling-ground returned on silent wing when she came. When the Lord Goldry Bluscoe understood that the red foliot would pay no heed to his accusation, he grew red as blood. Of fearsome sight it was to behold his wrath, and his eyes blazed like disastrous stars at midnight, and being wood with anger, he gnashed his teeth till the froth stood at his lips and slathered down his chin. Now the cymbals clashed for the onset. Therewith ran Goldry upon the King as one strawed of his wits, bellowing as he ran, and gripped him by the right arm with both his hands, one at the wrist and one near the shoulder. And so it was that before the King might move, Goldry spun round with his back to the King and by his nickel strength and the strength of the anger that was in him he heaved the King over his head, hurling him as one hurleth a ponderous spear, head-formals to the earth. And the King smote the ground with his head, and the bones of his head and his spine were driven together and smashed, and blood flowed from his ears and nose. With the might of that throw Goldry's wrath departed from him and left him strengthless, in such sort that he reeled as he went from the wrassling-ground. His brethren just and spitfire bare him up on either side and put his cloak of cloth of gold worked with the red hearts about his mighty limbs. Meanwhile dismay was fallen upon the witches to behold their King so caught up on a sudden and dashed upon the ground where he lay crumpled in a heap, shattered like the stalk of an hemlock that won breaketh and shattereth. In great agitation the red foley-art came down from his car of ebony and made haste there where the King was fallen, and the lords of witch-land came likewise dither-stricken at heart, and Korund lifted the King in his burly arms, but the King was stoned dead. So those sons of Korund made a litter with their spears and laid the King on the litter and spread over him his royal mantle of black silk lined with bearskin and set the crown of witch-land on his head, and without words spoken bare him away to the witches' booths, and the other lords of witch-land without words spoken followed after. CHAPTER III The Red Foley-art Of the entertainment of the witches in the palace of the Red Foley-art and of the wiles and subtleties of Lord Gros, and how the witches departed by night in the palace of the Red Foley-art and of the wilds and subtleties of Lord Gros, and how the witches departed by night out of the Foley-art isles. The Red Foley-art got him back into his palace and sat in his high seat, and he sent unto the lords of witch-land and of demon-land that they should come and see him. Nor did they delay, but came straight away and sat on the long benches, the witches on the eastern side of the hall, and the demons on the west, and their fighting men stood in order on either side behind them. So sat they in the shadowy hall, and the sun declining to the western ocean, shone through the high windows of the hall, on the polished armour and weapons of the witches. The Red Foley-art spake among them, and said, A great champion hath been stroked to earth this day in fair and equal combat. And according to the solemn oaths whereby ye are bound, and whereof I am the keeper, there is here an end to all unpeace betwixt witch-land and demon-land, and ye of witch-land artifors swear for ever your claims of lordship over the demons. Now for a sealing and making fast of this solemn covenant between you, I see no likely a reed than that ye all join with me here this day in good friendship, to forget your quarrels, in drinking of the Arval of King Garaz the Eleventh, than whom hath reigned non-mighty and no more worshipful in all this world, and thereafter depart in peace to your native lands. So spake the Red Foley-art, and the lords of witch-land assented there too. But Lord Jus answered, and said, O Red Foley-art, as to the oaths sworn between us and the King of Witch-land, there hath spoken well, nor shall we depart one titl from the article of our oaths, and the witches may abide in peace for ever, as for us, if, as is clean against their use and nature, therefore bear to devise evil against us. For the nature of Witch-land was ever as a flea that attacketh a man in the dark. But we will not eat nor drink with the lords of Witch-land, who beraid and foresuck us their sworn confederates at the sea-fight against the ghouls. Nor we will not drink the Arval of King Garaz the Eleventh, who worked a shameful and unlawful sleight against my kinsman this day when they rathled together. So spake, Lord Jus, and Corrin'd whispered Gro in the ear, saying, work not for the privilege of this respected company, now with the time to set upon them. But Gro said, I prithee yet have patience, and I am not afraid but Gro said, I prithee yet have patience. This were over-hazardous for the look goeth against Witch-land. Let us rather take them in their beds to-night. Fane would the red foliot turn the demons from their resolve, but without a veil, there courteously thanking him for his hospitality, which they said they would enjoy that night in their booths, being minded on the moral to take to their beaked ship and fare over the unvintaged sea to Demon-land. Therewith stood up, Lord Jus, and with him the Lord Goldry Blusco, that went in all his war-gear, his horned helm of gold, and his golden burn is set with ruby hearts, and bear his two-handed sword forged by the elves, wherewith he slew the beast out of the sea in days gone by. And Lord Spitfire, that glared upon the lords of Witch-land as a falcon-gleroth, hungering for her prayer, and the Lord Brandoc de Ha, that looked on them, and chiefly on Corrinneus, with the eye of contentious amusement, playing idly with the jewelled hilt of his sword, until Corrinneus grew ill at ease beneath his gears and shifted this way and that in his seat, scowling back defiance. For all the rich array and goodly port and countenance of Corrinneus, he seemed but a very boor beside the Lord Brandoc de Ha, and dearly did each hate the other. So the lords of Demon-land, with their fighting men, went forth from the hall. The red-foliot sent after them, and made them in their booths to be served of great plenty of wine and good and delicate meats, and sent the musicians and a minstrel to gladden them with songs and stories of old time, that they might like not of entertainment. But for his other guests he let bear in the massy cups of silver and the great-eared wine-jar as holding two firkins apiece, and he let pour forth to the witches and the foliots, and they drank the cup of memory unto King Gerais XI, slain that day by the hand of Goldry Bluscoe. Thereafter, when their cups were brimmed anew with forming wine, the red-foliot spake among them and said, O ye lords of witch-land, will ye that I speak a dirge in honour of Gerais the King, that the dark reaper hath this day gathered? So when they said year to this, he called to him his player on the Theorgo and his player on the Hortboy, and commanded them, saying, Play me a solemn music. And they played softly in the Aeolian mode, a music that was like the whirling of wind through bare branches on a moonless night, and the red-foliot leaned forth from his high seat and recited this lamentation. I that inhale walls and gladness, and trouble it now with great sickness, and feeble it with infirmity, Timor Mortis contivate me. Our pleasant here is all vain glory. This false world is but transitory. The flesh is brockled, the faint is sleigh. Timor Mortis contivate me. The state of man does change and vary. No sound, no sick, no blithe, no seary. No duns and myri, no light to dee. Timor Mortis contivate me. No state in earth here stand is sicker, as with the wind wavis the wicker. So one is this world's vanity. Timor Mortis contivate me. Unto the death go us all astartis. Princes, preletes, and potastartis. Both rich and poor of all degree. Timor Mortis contivate me. He tack us the nictis into field, enormous under helm and shield. Victor he is at all melly. Timor Mortis contivate me. That strong unmerciful tyrant, tack us on the mother's breast so canned. The verb full of benignity. Timor Mortis contivate me. He tack us the champion in the stower, the captain closet in the tower, the lady in bower full of beauty. Timor Mortis contivate me. His ferris no lord for his besense, no clark for his intelligence. His awful strike may no man flee. Timor Mortis contivate me. Art magicianis and astrologis, theoris, logicianis, theologis. Them help is no conclusionis sleigh. Timor Mortis contivate me. In medicine the most practitioners, leeches, serigianis, and physicianis. Them self from death may noctiple. Timor Mortis contivate me. When the red-foliot had spoken thus far his dirge, he was interrupted by an unseemly brawling betwixt Carinius and one of the sons of Corund. For Carinius, who gave not a fig for music or dirges, but liked well of carding and dicing, had brought forth his dice-box to play with the son of Corund. They played a while to Carinius's great content, for at every throw he won and the others' purse waxed light. But at this eleventh stanza the son of Corund cried out that the dice of Carinius were loaded, and he smorted Carinius on his shaven jowl with the dice-box, calling him cheat and mangy rascal, whereupon Carinius drew forth a bodkin to smite him in the neck with all. But some went betwixt them, and with much ado and much struggling and cursing they were parted, and it being shown that the dice were not loaded, the son of Corund was fain to make amends to Carinius, and so they were set at one again. Now was the wine poured forth yet again to the lords of witch-land, and the red-foliot drank deep unto the glory of that land and the rulers thereof. And he issued command, saying, Let my cargo come and dance before us, and thereafter my other dances. For there is no pleasure whereon the foliots do more dearly dot than this pleasure of the dance, and sweet to us it is to behold delightful dancing, be it the stateless splendour of the pavane, which progresseth as large clouds at sundown that pass by in splendour, or the graceful alamond, or the fandango which goeth by degrees from languorous beauty to the swiftness and passion of bacchanales dancing on the high looms under a summer moon that hangeth in the pine trees, or the joyous maze of the galeoid, or the gig dear to the foliots. Therefore delay not, but let my cargo come that she may dance before us. Therewith hastened the cargo into the shadowy hall, moving softly and rolling a little in her gait, with her head thrust forward, and a little flurried was she in her bearing as she dotted this way and that her large and beautiful eyes, mild and timid, that were like liquid gold heated to redness. Somewhat like a heron she was, but stouter and shorter of leg, and her beak shorter and thicker than the herons, and so long and delicate was her pale grey plumage that hard it was to say whether it were hair or feathers. So the wind instruments, and the loots and dulcimers played a caranto, and the cargo tripped up the hall, betwixt the long tables, jumping a little and bowing a little in her step, and keeping excellent time to the music. And when she came near to the dais where the red foliots ravished with delight at her dancing, the cargo lengthened her step and glided smoothly and slowly forward toward the red foliot, and so gliding she drew herself up in stately wise and opened her mouth and drew back her head till her beak leg tied against her breast, flouncing out her feathers so that they showed like a wide-cut skirt with a crinoline. And the crest that was on her head rose up erect half again her own height from the ground, and she sailed majestically toward the red foliot. And this wise did the cargo at every turn that she took in the caranto forth and back along the length of the foliot's hole, and they all laughed sweetly at her, being overjoyed at her dancing. When the dance was done, the red foliot called the cargo to him and made her sit on the bench beside him and stroked her soft grey feathers and made much of her. All bashfully she sat beside the red foliot, casting her ruby eyes in wonder upon the witches and their company. Next the red foliot called for his cat-bearers, but stood before him foxy red above, but with black bellies, round furry faces, and innocent amber eyes, and soft great paws, and tails barred alternately with ruddy rings and creamy. And he said, O cat-bearers, dance before us, since dearly we delight in your dancing. They asked, Lord, will you that we perform the gig? And he answered them, the gig, and you love me. So the stringed instruments began a swift movement, and the tambourines and triangles entered on the beat, and swiftly twinkled the feet of the cat-bearers in the joyous dance. The music rippled and ran, and the dancers danced till the hall was a whirl with the rhythm of their dancing, and the witches roared applause. On a sudden the music ceased, and the dancers were still, and standing side by side, paw in furry paw, they bowed shyly to the company, and the red foliot called them to him and kissed them on the mouth, and sent them to their seats, that they might rest and view the dances that were to follow. Next the red foliot called for his white peacocks, coloured like moonlight, that they might lead the pavan before the lords of which land. In glorious wise did they spread their tails for the stately dance, and a fair and lovely sight it was to see their grace, and the grandeur of their carriage, as they moved to the music, chaste and noble. With them were joined the golden pheasants, who spread wide their collars of gold, and the silver pheasants, and the peacock pheasants, and the estriges, and the bustards, footing it in pomp, pointing the toes, and bowing and retiring in due time to the solemn strains of the pavan. Every instrument took part in the stately pavan. The loots and the dulcimers, and the theobos, and the sack-butts and the hawk-boys, the flutes sweetly warbling as birds in the upper air, and the silver trumpets, and the horns that breathed deep melodies trembling with mystery and tenderness that shakes the heart, and the drum that beateth to battle, and the wild throb of the harp, and the cymbals clashing as the clash of armies, and a nightingale sitting by the red foliage sang the pavan in passionate tones that dissolved the soul in their sweet mournful beauty. The Lord Gros covered his face with his mantle, and wept to hear and behold the divine pavan. For as ghosts re-arisen it raised up for him old happy half-forgotten days in goblin land, before he had conspired against King Gaslock, and been driven forth from his deonerated land, and exiled in water-ish witch-land. Thereafter let the red foliage give order for the galley-yard, joyously swept forth the melody from the stringed instruments, and two door-mice, fat as butter, spun into the hall, wilder world the music, and the door-mice capered ever higher, till they bounded from the floor up to the beams of the vaulted roof, and down again, and up again to the roof-beams in the joyful dance, and the foliage joined in the galley-yard, spinning and capering in mad delight of the dance, and into the whole twelve six-cappery-peds, footing it lightly as the music swept ever faster, and a one-footer that leaped hither and dither about and about as the flea-hoppeth, till the witches grew hoarse with singing and shouting and hounding off him on, yet ever kippered the door-mice higher and wilder than any else, and so swiftly flashed their little feet to the galloping music that no eye might follow their motion. But little, no, was Lord Groor, gladdened by the merry dance. Sad melancholy sat with him for his companion, darkening his thoughts, and making joy hateful to him as sunshine to owls of the night, so that he was well pleased to mark the red-foliot go softly from his seat on the dais, and forth from the hall by a door behind the arras, and seeing this, himself departed softly amid the full tide of the galley-yard, forth of that hall of swift movement and gleeful laughter, forth into the quiet evening, where above the smooth downs the wind was lulled to sleep in the vast silent spaces of the sky, and the west was a bower of orange light fading to purple and unfathomable blue in the upper heaven, and note was heard said the murmur of the sleepless sea, and note seen said a flight of wildfowl flying against the sunset. In this quietness Groor walked westward above the coon, until he came to the land's edge, and stood on the lip of a chalk cliff falling to the sea, and was aware of the red-foliot alone on that high-western cliff, gazing in a study at the dying colours in the west. When they had stood for a while without speech, gazing over the sea, Groor spake and said, Consider how as day no dieth in yonder chambers of the west, so hath the glory departed from which land? But the red-foliot answered him not, being in a study. Then Groor said, Though demon-land lieth where thou soest, the sun descend, yet eastward out of which land lest thou look for the morning splendour. Not more surely shall thou behold the sun go up thence to-morrow, than thou shalt see shine forth in short season the glory and honour and power of which land, and beneath her destructive sword her enemies shall be as grass before the sickle. The red-foliot said, I am in love with peace, and the soft influence of the evening air. Leave me, or if thou wilt stay, break not the charm. O red-foliot said, Groor, art thou in love with peace indeed? So should the rising again of which land tune sweet music to thy thought, since we of which land love peace, nor are we stirrers of strife but the demons only. The war against the ghouls, whereby the four corners of the earth were shaken, was hatched by demon-land. Thou speakers said the red-foliot, clean against thy intention, a great praise of them. For who ever saw the like of these man-eating ghouls for corruption of manners in human degeneration and deluge of iniquities? Who every fifth year from time immemorial have had their grand climacterical year, and but last year break forth in never imagined ferocity. But if their sail now it is on the dark lake their sail, grieving no earthly seas nor rivers. Praise demon-land therefore, who did put them down for ever? I make no question of that, answered Lloyd Groor. But foul water, as soon as fair, will quench hot fire. Sore against our will did we of which land join with the demons in that war, for seeing, as hath been bloodily approved, that the issue must be but the puffing up of the demons, who desire no other thing than to be lords and tyrants of all the world. Thou said the red-foliot, whilst in thy young days King Gaslock's man, a goblin born and bred, his very foster-brother nourished at the same breast. Why must I observe thee, a plain traitor against so good a king, who's perfected the common people then did openly reprove, as I did well perceive even so lately as last autumn, when I was in the city of Zarjezakulor, at the time of their festivities for the betrothal of the king's cousin German, the princess Amaline, unto the lord Goldriblusco. They're carrying filthy pictures of thee in the street, singing of thee thus. It was pity, one saw witty, malcontent, leaving reason, should to treason, so be bent. But his gifts were but shifts, voids of grace, and his bravery was but navery, vile and barece. Said Groh, wincing a little, the art of it agreeeth well with the sentiment, and with the condition of those who invented it. I will not think so noble a prince as thou art will set thy sails to the wind of the rabble's most partial hates and embers. For the vile addition of traitor I do reject and spit upon it. But true it is that, regarding not the god of fools and women, nice opinion, I do steer by my own lord star still. How be it, I came not to discourse to thee on so smaller matter as myself. This I would say unto thee, with most sad and serious entertain, be not lulled to think the demons will leave the world at peace. That is farthest from their intent. They would not listen to thy comfortable words, nor sit at meet with us. So set be there to imagine mischief against us. What said Jus? Which land was ever as a flea? I, as a flea which he itcheth to crush betwixt his fingernails. O, if thou be in love with peace, a short way lieth open to thy heart's desire. Nought spake the red foliot, gazing still into the dim reflections of the sunset, which lingered below a darkening sky where stars were born. Groo said softly, as a cat purring, Where softening unctions failed, sharp surgery bringeth speediest ease. Will they not leave it to me? But the red foliot looked angrily upon him, saying, What have I to do with your enmities? You are sworn to keep the peace, and I will not abide your violence, nor your breaking of oaths, in my quiet kingdom. Groo said, Oaths be of the heart, and he that breaketh them in open fact is oft, as now, no breaker in truth, for already were they scorned and trampled on by his opposites. But the red foliot said again, What have I to do with your enmities that set you by the ears like fighting dogs? I am yet to learn that he that hath a righteous heart, and clean hands, and hateeth none, must needs be drawn into the brawls and manslayings of such as you and the demons. Lord Groo looked narrowly upon him, saying, Thinkest thou that the straight path of him that effecteth neither side lieth still open for thee? If that were thine aim, though shouldst be thought the air, they must thy judgment on the second bout. For clear as day it was to us and to thine own people, and most of all to the demons, that the king played fowl in that bout. And when thou callst him victorious, thou didst loudly by that word trumpet thyself his friend, and unfriends to demon-land. Markest thou not, when they left the hall, with what snake's eye Lord just beheld thee? Not with those only, but with thee he refused to eat and drink. That so his superstitious scruples may be unhurt when he proceeds to the destruction. For on this are they determined, nothing is more certain. The red foliot sank his chin upon his breast and stood silent for the space. The hues of death and silence spread themselves where late the fires of sunset glowed, and large stars opened like flowers on the illimitable fields of the night sky. Arcturus, Spiker, Gemini, and the little dog, and Capala and her kids. The red foliot said, which land lieth at my door? Demon-land, how stand I with demon-land? And Groorl said, all saw to morrow some goeth up out of which land. For a while they spoke not. Then Lord Groorl took forth a scroll from his bosom, and said, The harvest of this world is to the Resolute, and he that is in firm of purpose is ground betwixt the upper and the nether mill stone. Thou canst not turn back. So would there scorn and spurn thee, and we which is likewise. And now by these me's only peace be brought about, nearly by the setting of Garice of Witchland on the throne of Demon-land, and the utter humbling of that brood beneath the heel of the witches. The red foliot said, is not Garice slain? And drank we not, but now his Orval slain by a demon? And is he not the second in order of that line who was so died by a demon? A twelfth, Garice, said Groorl, at this moment of time, that I am a reader of the planets of the night, and of those hidden powers that work out the web of destiny. Whereby I know that this twelfth king of the house of Garice and Carcy shall be a most crafty warlock, full of guiles and wiles, who by the might of his eagerness and the sword of Witchland shall exceed all earthly powers that be, and ineluctable as the leaven bolt of heaven goeth out his wroth against his enemies. So, saying, Groorl stooped and took a glow-worm from us, saying kindly to it, sweetening thy lamp for a moment, and breathed upon it, and held it to the parchment, saying, Sign now thy royal name to these articles, which require thee not at all to go to war, but only in case war shall arise to be of our party, and against these demons that do privilege pursue thy life. But the red-foliot said, Wherein am I certified that those speakers not a lie? Then took Groorl a writing from his purse, and showed there on a seal like the seal of Lord Jus, and there was written, Unto vol, all love and trust, and fail not whenest thou sailest upon Witchland, to cast of three or four ships for the foliot aisles to put down those, and bring the red-foliot in his house. For if we gaten out the life of these worms cherted out of them, the shame will stick on as for ever. And Groorl said, My servant stole this from them, while they spoke with thee in thine hall to-night. Which the red-foliot believed. And took from his belt his incoin and his pen, and signed his royal name to the articles of the treaty proposed to him. Therewith Lord Groorl put up the parchment in his bosom, and said, Swift surgery, needs must that we take them in their beds to-night. So shall to-morrow's dawn bring glory and triumph to Witchland, now fixed in an eclipse, and to the whole world peace and soft contentment. But the red-foliot answered him, My Lord Groorl, I have signed these articles, and thereby stand I bound in enmity to demon-land. But I will not beret my guests that have eaten my salt, be they never so deeply pledged my enemies. Be it known to thee, I have set guards on your booths this night, and on the booths of them of demon-land, that no unpeaceful deeds may be done betwixt you. This which I have done, by this will I stand. And ye shall both depart to-morrow in peace, even as ye can. Because I am your friend and sworn to your party, I and my foliots will be on your side when war is between which land and demon-land. But I will not suffer night slayings nor murders in my aisles. Now with these words of the red-foliot, Lord Groorl was as one that walketh along a flowery path to his rest, and in the last steps a gulf yawneth subtly athwart the path, and he standeth agape and disappointed at the hither side. Yet in his subtlety he made no sign, but straight replied, Righteously has thou decreed and wisely your red-foliot. For it was truly said, let worthy minds and heirs stagger in distrust to suffer death or shame for what is just. And that which we saw in darkness must unfold in the open light of death, lest it be found withered in the very hour of maturity. Nor would I averge thee otherwise, but that I do thoroughly fear these demons, and all my mind was to take their plotting in reverse. Do them one thing only for us. If we set sail homeward, and they on our heels, they will fall upon us at a disadvantage, for they have the swifter ship. Or if they get to sea before us, they will lie and wait for us on the high seas. Suffer us then to sail to night, and do thou on some pretext delay them here for three days only, that we may get us home, or ever they leave the foliot aisles. I will not again say thee in this, answered the red-foliot, for here is note for what is fair and just, and lieth with mine honour. I will come to your booths at midnight and bring you down to your ship. When Gro came to the witch's booths, he found them guarded even as the red-foliot had said, and the booths of them of demon-land in like manner. So he went into the royal booth where the king lay in state on a beer of spear-shirts, robed in his kingly robes over his armour that was painted black and inlaid with gold, and the crown of witch-land on his head. Two candles burned at the head of King Garas, and two at his feet, and the night wind blowing through the crannies of the booth made them flare and flicker, so that shadows danced unceasingly on the wall and roof and floor. On the benches round the walls sat the lords of witch-land, sullen of countenance, and the wine was dead in them. Balefully they eyed Lord Groot as coming in, and Carinius set up right in his seat, and said, Here is the goblin, father and fosterer of our misfortunes! Come, let us slay him! Gro stood among them with head erect, and held Carinius with his eye, saying, We of witch-land are not run lunatic my Lord Carinius, that we should do this gladness to the demons, to bite each at the others throat like wolves. Me thinks it's witch-land be the land of my adoption only, yet have I not done least among you to ward off sheer destruction from her in this pass we stand in. If you have ought against me, let me hear it and answer it. Carinius laughed and bitter laughed. Harken to the fool! Are we babies and milk-sofs? Think us thou, and is it not clear as dare thou stoodest in the way of our falling on the demons when we might have done come, and we close prisoned in our booths, and no chance to come at them unless we would bring an horn its nest of foleyots about our ears, and give warning of our intent to the demons and every living soul in this island. And all this has come about since thy slinking off and plotting with the red foleyot. But now hath thy guile overreached itself, and now we will kill thee, and so an end of thee and thy plotting. With that Carinius sprang up and drew his sword, in the island. Only he said, hear mine answer first, all night lieth before us, and his butter-moments task to murder me. Therewith stood forth the Lord Corrung, with his huge bulk betwixt Groh and Carinius, saying in a great voice, whose social-point weapon against him shall first have to do with me, though it were one of my sons. We will hear him. If he clear not himself, then we will hew him in pieces. They sat down muttering. And Groh said, first behold this parchment, which is the articles of a solemn covenant and alliance, and behold where the red foliot hath set his sign manual there, too. True, his is a country of no mighty arms, and we might tread him down in Nairfield the leaving stick to our boot, and little avail can their weak help be unto us in the day of battle. But there is in these aisles a meatly good road and riding place for ships, which if our enemies should occupy, their fleet were most ready. Is then this treaty a light benefit when now we stand? Next, know that when I counseled you take the demons in their beds, instead of fall upon them in the foliot's hole, I did so being advertised that the red foliot had commanded his soldiers to turn against us or against the demons, whichever first should draw sword upon the other. And when I went forth from the hole it was, hath Carinius hath so deeply and indeed had I as Carinius violently accuseth me, practice with the red foliot against which land, I had hardly been so simple as to return into the mouth of destruction, when I might have bided safely in his palace. Now when Groll perceived that the anger of the witches against him was appeased by his defence, wherein he spent cunningly both true words and lies, he spoke again among them, saying little again have I of all my pens and thoughts expended by me for which he did. Corrin knoweth how, to my own peril, I counselled the king to wrestle no more after the first bout, and if he had turned my reed, rather than suspect me and threaten me with death, we should not be now to bear him home dead to the royal catacombs in Carci. Corrin said, truly has they spoken. In one thing only have I failed, said Groll, and it can shortly be amended. The red foliot, albeit of our party, will not be one to attack the demons by fraud, nor will they smite them in these aisles. Some fond, simple scruples hang like cobwebs in his mind, and he is stubborn as touching this. But I have prevailed upon him to make them tarry here for three days' space, while we put to see this very night, telling him, which he most innocently believeth, that we fear the demons, and would flee home ere they would let loose to take us at a disadvantage on the high seas, and home we will indeed ere they set sail, yet not for fear of them, but rather that we may devise a deadly blow against them, or ever they win home to demon-land. What blow, goblin, said Carinius, and Grow answered and said, one that I will devise upon with our lord the king, Gerais the twelfth, who now awaiteth us in Corsi, and I will not blab it to a wine-biber and a dicer, who hath but now drawn sword against a true lover of witch-land. Whereupon Carinius leapt up in Mickel-Raph to thrust his sword into Grow, but Coran and his sons restrained him. In due time the stars revolved to midnight, and the red foliot came secretly with his guards to the witch's booths. The lords of witch-land took their weapons, and the men-at-arms bear the goods, and the king went in the midst on his beer of spear-sheffs. So went there picking their way in the moonless night round the palace, and down the winding path that led to the bed of the Coon, and so by the stream westward toward the sea. Here they deemed it safe to light a torch to shield them the way. Desolate and bleak shelled the sides of the Coon with the wind-blown flare, and the flare was thrown back from the jewels of the royal crown of witch-land, and from the armoured buskins on the king's feet, showing stark with toes pointing upward from below his bare-skinned mantle, and from the armor and the weapons of them that bear him, and walked beside him, and from the black cold surface of the little river, hurrying forever over its bed of boulders to the sea. The path was rugged and stony, and they fared slowly, lest they should stumble and drop the king. End of Chapter 3