Elizabeth von Arnim - "The Solitary Summer"

Anonymous - "Wonders of Creation"

George W. Cable - "Strong Hearts"

David Hume - "A Treatise of Human Nature"

The Wood Beyond the World

W >> William Morris >> The Wood Beyond the World



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THE WOOD BEYOND THE WORLD




CHAPTER I: OF GOLDEN WALTER AND HIS FATHER



Awhile ago there was a young man dwelling in a great and goodly city
by the sea which had to name Langton on Holm. He was but of five
and twenty winters, a fair-faced man, yellow-haired, tall and
strong; rather wiser than foolisher than young men are mostly wont;
a valiant youth, and a kind; not of many words but courteous of
speech; no roisterer, nought masterful, but peaceable and knowing
how to forbear: in a fray a perilous foe, and a trusty war-fellow.
His father, with whom he was dwelling when this tale begins, was a
great merchant, richer than a baron of the land, a head-man of the
greatest of the Lineages of Langton, and a captain of the Porte; he
was of the Lineage of the Goldings, therefore was he called
Bartholomew Golden, and his son Golden Walter.

Now ye may well deem that such a youngling as this was looked upon
by all as a lucky man without a lack; but there was this flaw in his
lot, whereas he had fallen into the toils of love of a woman
exceeding fair, and had taken her to wife, she nought unwilling as
it seemed. But when they had been wedded some six months he found
by manifest tokens, that his fairness was not so much to her but
that she must seek to the foulness of one worser than he in all
ways; wherefore his rest departed from him, whereas he hated her for
her untruth and her hatred of him; yet would the sound of her voice,
as she came and went in the house, make his heart beat; and the
sight of her stirred desire within him, so that he longed for her to
be sweet and kind with him, and deemed that, might it be so, he
should forget all the evil gone by. But it was not so; for ever
when she saw him, her face changed, and her hatred of him became
manifest, and howsoever she were sweet with others, with him she was
hard and sour.

So this went on a while till the chambers of his father's house, yea
the very streets of the city, became loathsome to him; and yet he
called to mind that the world was wide and he but a young man. So
on a day as he sat with his father alone, he spake to him and said:
"Father, I was on the quays even now, and I looked on the ships that
were nigh boun, and thy sign I saw on a tall ship that seemed to me
nighest boun. Will it be long ere she sail?"

"Nay," said his father, "that ship, which hight the Katherine, will
they warp out of the haven in two days' time. But why askest thou
of her?"

"The shortest word is best, father," said Walter, "and this it is,
that I would depart in the said ship and see other lands."

"Yea and whither, son?" said the merchant.

"Whither she goeth," said Walter, "for I am ill at ease at home, as
thou wottest, father."

The merchant held his peace awhile, and looked hard on his son, for
there was strong love between them; but at last he said: "Well,
son, maybe it were best for thee; but maybe also we shall not meet
again."

"Yet if we do meet, father, then shalt thou see a new man in me."

"Well," said Bartholomew, "at least I know on whom to lay the loss
of thee, and when thou art gone, for thou shalt have thine own way
herein, she shall no longer abide in my house. Nay, but it were
for the strife that should arise thenceforth betwixt her kindred and
ours, it should go somewhat worse with her than that."

Said Walter: "I pray thee shame her not more than needs must be,
lest, so doing, thou shame both me and thyself also."

Bartholomew held his peace again for a while; then he said: "Goeth
she with child, my son?"

Walter reddened, and said: "I wot not; nor of whom the child may
be." Then they both sat silent, till Bartholomew spake, saying:
"The end of it is, son, that this is Monday, and that thou shalt go
aboard in the small hours of Wednesday; and meanwhile I shall look
to it that thou go not away empty-handed; the skipper of the
Katherine is a good man and true, and knows the seas well; and my
servant Robert the Low, who is clerk of the lading, is trustworthy
and wise, and as myself in all matters that look towards chaffer.
The Katherine is new and stout-builded, and should be lucky, whereas
she is under the ward of her who is the saint called upon in the
church where thou wert christened, and myself before thee; and thy
mother, and my father and mother all lie under the chancel thereof,
as thou wottest."

Therewith the elder rose up and went his ways about his business,
and there was no more said betwixt him and his son on this matter.



CHAPTER II: GOLDEN WALTER TAKES SHIP TO SAIL THE SEAS



When Walter went down to the Katherine next morning, there was the
skipper Geoffrey, who did him reverence, and made him all cheer, and
showed him his room aboard ship, and the plenteous goods which his
father had sent down to the quays already, such haste as he had
made. Walter thanked his father's love in his heart, but otherwise
took little heed to his affairs, but wore away the time about the
haven, gazing listlessly on the ships that were making them ready
outward, or unlading, and the mariners and aliens coming and going:
and all these were to him as the curious images woven on a tapestry.

At last when he had wellnigh come back again to the Katherine, he
saw there a tall ship, which he had scarce noted before, a ship all-
boun, which had her boats out, and men sitting to the oars thereof
ready to tow her outwards when the hawser should be cast off, and by
seeming her mariners were but abiding for some one or other to come
aboard.

So Walter stood idly watching the said ship, and as he looked, lo!
folk passing him toward the gangway. These were three; first came a
dwarf, dark-brown of hue and hideous, with long arms and ears
exceeding great and dog-teeth that stuck out like the fangs of a
wild beast. He was clad in a rich coat of yellow silk, and bare in
his hand a crooked bow, and was girt with a broad sax.

After him came a maiden, young by seeming, of scarce twenty summers;
fair of face as a flower; grey-eyed, brown-haired, with lips full
and red, slim and gentle of body. Simple was her array, of a short
and strait green gown, so that on her right ankle was clear to see
an iron ring.

Last of the three was a lady, tall and stately, so radiant of visage
and glorious of raiment, that it were hard to say what like she was;
for scarce might the eye gaze steady upon her exceeding beauty; yet
must every son of Adam who found himself anigh her, lift up his eyes
again after he had dropped them, and look again on her, and yet
again and yet again. Even so did Walter, and as the three passed by
him, it seemed to him as if all the other folk there about had
vanished and were nought; nor had he any vision before his eyes of
any looking on them, save himself alone. They went over the gangway
into the ship, and he saw them go along the deck till they came to
the house on the poop, and entered it and were gone from his sight.

There he stood staring, till little by little the thronging people
of the quays came into his eye-shot again; then he saw how the
hawser was cast off and the boats fell to tugging the big ship
toward the harbour-mouth with hale and how of men. Then the sail
fell down from the yard and was sheeted home and filled with the
fair wind as the ship's bows ran up on the first green wave outside
the haven. Even therewith the shipmen cast abroad a banner, whereon
was done in a green field a grim wolf ramping up against a maiden,
and so went the ship upon her way.

Walter stood awhile staring at her empty place where the waves ran
into the haven-mouth, and then turned aside and toward the
Katherine; and at first he was minded to go ask shipmaster Geoffrey
of what he knew concerning the said ship and her alien wayfarers;
but then it came into his mind, that all this was but an imagination
or dream of the day, and that he were best to leave it untold to
any. So therewith he went his way from the water-side, and through
the streets unto his father's house; but when he was but a little
way thence, and the door was before him, him-seemed for a moment of
time that he beheld those three coming out down the steps of stone
and into the street; to wit the dwarf, the maiden, and the stately
lady: but when he stood still to abide their coming, and looked
toward them, lo! there was nothing before him save the goodly house
of Bartholomew Golden, and three children and a cur dog playing
about the steps thereof, and about him were four or five passers-by
going about their business. Then was he all confused in his mind,
and knew not what to make of it, whether those whom he had seemed to
see pass aboard ship were but images of a dream, or children of Adam
in very flesh.

Howsoever, he entered the house, and found his father in the
chamber, and fell to speech with him about their matters; but for
all that he loved his father, and worshipped him as a wise and
valiant man, yet at that hour he might not hearken the words of his
mouth, so much was his mind entangled in the thought of those three,
and they were ever before his eyes, as if they had been painted on a
table by the best of limners. And of the two women he thought
exceeding much, and cast no wyte upon himself for running after the
desire of strange women. For he said to himself that he desired not
either of the twain; nay, he might not tell which of the twain, the
maiden or the stately queen, were clearest to his eyes; but sore he
desired to see both of them again, and to know what they were.

So wore the hours till the Wednesday morning, and it was time that
he should bid farewell to his father and get aboard ship; but his
father led him down to the quays and on to the Katherine, and there
Walter embraced him, not without tears and forebodings; for his
heart was full. Then presently the old man went aland; the gangway
was unshipped, the hawsers cast off; the oars of the towing-boats
splashed in the dark water, the sail fell down from the yard, and
was sheeted home, and out plunged the Katherine into the misty sea
and rolled up the grey slopes, casting abroad her ancient withal,
whereon was beaten the token of Bartholomew Golden, to wit a B and a
G to the right and the left, and thereabove a cross and a triangle
rising from the midst.

Walter stood on the stern and beheld, yet more with the mind of him
than with his eyes; for it all seemed but the double of what the
other ship had done; and the thought of it as if the twain were as
beads strung on one string and led away by it into the same place,
and thence to go in the like order, and so on again and again, and
never to draw nigher to each other.



CHAPTER III: WALTER HEARETH TIDINGS OF THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER



Fast sailed the Katherine over the seas, and nought befell to tell
of, either to herself or her crew. She came to one cheaping-town
and then to another, and so on to a third and a fourth; and at each
was buying and selling after the manner of chapmen; and Walter not
only looked on the doings of his father's folk, but lent a hand,
what he might, to help them in all matters, whether it were in
seaman's craft, or in chaffer. And the further he went and the
longer the time wore, the more he was eased of his old trouble
wherein his wife and her treason had to do.

But as for the other trouble, to wit his desire and longing to come
up with those three, it yet flickered before him; and though he had
not seen them again as one sees people in the streets, and as if he
might touch them if he would, yet were their images often before his
mind's eye; and yet, as time wore, not so often, nor so troublously;
and forsooth both to those about him and to himself, he seemed as a
man well healed of his melancholy mood.

Now they left that fourth stead, and sailed over the seas and came
to a fifth, a very great and fair city, which they had made more
than seven months from Langton on Holm; and by this time was Walter
taking heed and joyance in such things as were toward in that fair
city, so far from his kindred, and especially he looked on the fair
women there, and desired them, and loved them; but lightly, as
befalleth young men.

Now this was the last country whereto the Katherine was boun; so
there they abode some ten months in daily chaffer, and in pleasuring
them in beholding all that there was of rare and goodly, and making
merry with the merchants and the towns-folk, and the country-folk
beyond the gates, and Walter was grown as busy and gay as a strong
young man is like to be, and was as one who would fain be of some
account amongst his own folk.

But at the end of this while, it befell on a day, as he was leaving
his hostel for his booth in the market, and had the door in his
hand, there stood before him three mariners in the guise of his own
country, and with them was one of clerkly aspect, whom he knew at
once for his father's scrivener, Arnold Penstrong by name; and when
Walter saw him his heart failed him and he cried out: "Arnold, what
tidings? Is all well with the folk at Langton?"

Said Arnold: "Evil tidings are come with me; matters are ill with
thy folk; for I may not hide that thy father, Bartholomew Golden, is
dead, God rest his soul."

At that word it was to Walter as if all that trouble which but now
had sat so light upon him, was once again fresh and heavy, and that
his past life of the last few months had never been; and it was to
him as if he saw his father lying dead on his bed, and heard the
folk lamenting about the house. He held his peace awhile, and then
he said in a voice as of an angry man:

"What, Arnold! and did he die in his bed, or how? for he was neither
old nor ailing when we parted."

Said Arnold: "Yea, in his bed he died: but first he was somewhat
sword-bitten."

"Yea, and how?" quoth Walter.

Said Arnold: "When thou wert gone, in a few days' wearing, thy
father sent thy wife out of his house back to her kindred of the
Reddings with no honour, and yet with no such shame as might have
been, without blame to us of those who knew the tale of thee and
her; which, God-a-mercy, will be pretty much the whole of the city."

"Nevertheless, the Reddings took it amiss, and would have a mote
with us Goldings to talk of booting. By ill-luck we yea-said that
for the saving of the city's peace. But what betid? We met in our
Gild-hall, and there befell the talk between us; and in that talk
certain words could not be hidden, though they were none too seemly
nor too meek. And the said words once spoken drew forth the whetted
steel; and there then was the hewing and thrusting! Two of ours
were slain outright on the floor, and four of theirs, and many were
hurt on either side. Of these was thy father, for as thou mayst
well deem, he was nought backward in the fray; but despite his
hurts, two in the side and one on the arm, he went home on his own
feet, and we deemed that we had come to our above. But well-a-way!
it was an evil victory, whereas in ten days he died of his hurts.
God have his soul! But now, my master, thou mayst well wot that I
am not come to tell thee this only, but moreover to bear the word of
the kindred, to wit that thou come back with me straightway in the
swift cutter which hath borne me and the tidings; and thou mayst
look to it, that though she be swift and light, she is a keel full
weatherly."

Then said Walter: "This is a bidding of war. Come back will I, and
the Reddings shall wot of my coming. Are ye all-boun?"

"Yea," said Arnold, "we may up anchor this very day, or to-morrow
morn at latest. But what aileth thee, master, that thou starest so
wild over my shoulder? I pray thee take it not so much to heart!
Ever it is the wont of fathers to depart this world before their
sons."

But Walter's visage from wrathful red had become pale, and he
pointed up street, and cried out: "Look! dost thou see?"

"See what, master?" quoth Arnold: "what! here cometh an ape in gay
raiment; belike the beast of some jongleur. Nay, by God's wounds!
'tis a man, though he be exceeding mis-shapen like a very devil.
Yea and now there cometh a pretty maid going as if she were of his
meney; and lo! here, a most goodly and noble lady! Yea, I see; and
doubtless she owneth both the two, and is of the greatest of the
folk of this fair city; for on the maiden's ankle I saw an iron
ring, which betokeneth thralldom amongst these aliens. But this is
strange! for notest thou not how the folk in the street heed not
this quaint show; nay not even the stately lady, though she be as
lovely as a goddess of the gentiles, and beareth on her gems that
would buy Langton twice over; surely they must be over-wont to
strange and gallant sights. But now, master, but now!"

"Yea, what is it?" said Walter.

"Why, master, they should not yet be gone out of eye-shot, yet gone
they are. What is become of them, are they sunk into the earth?"

"Tush, man!" said Walter, looking not on Arnold, but still staring
down the street; "they have gone into some house while thine eyes
were turned from them a moment."

"Nay, master, nay," said Arnold, "mine eyes were not off them one
instant of time."

"Well," said Walter, somewhat snappishly, "they are gone now, and
what have we to do to heed such toys, we with all this grief and
strife on our hands? Now would I be alone to turn the matter of
thine errand over in my mind. Meantime do thou tell the shipmaster
Geoffrey and our other folk of these tidings, and thereafter get
thee all ready; and come hither to me before sunrise to-morrow, and
I shall be ready for my part; and so sail we back to Langton."

Therewith he turned him back into the house, and the others went
their ways; but Walter sat alone in his chamber a long while, and
pondered these things in his mind. And whiles he made up his mind
that he would think no more of the vision of those three, but would
fare back to Langton, and enter into the strife with the Reddings
and quell them, or die else. But lo, when he was quite steady in
this doom, and his heart was lightened thereby, he found that he
thought no more of the Reddings and their strife, but as matters
that were passed and done with, and that now he was thinking and
devising if by any means he might find out in what land dwelt those
three. And then again he strove to put that from him, saying that
what he had seen was but meet for one brainsick, and a dreamer of
dreams. But furthermore he thought, Yea, and was Arnold, who this
last time had seen the images of those three, a dreamer of waking
dreams? for he was nought wonted in such wise; then thought he: At
least I am well content that he spake to me of their likeness, not I
to him; for so I may tell that there was at least something before
my eyes which grew not out of mine own brain. And yet again, why
should I follow them; and what should I get by it; and indeed how
shall I set about it?

Thus he turned the matter over and over; and at last, seeing that if
he grew no foolisher over it, he grew no wiser, he became weary
thereof, and bestirred him, and saw to the trussing up of his goods,
and made all ready for his departure, and so wore the day and slept
at nightfall; and at daybreak comes Arnold to lead him to their
keel, which hight the Bartholomew. He tarried nought, and with few
farewells went aboard ship, and an hour after they were in the open
sea with the ship's head turned toward Langton on Holm.



CHAPTER IV: STORM BEFALLS THE BARTHOLOMEW, AND SHE IS DRIVEN OFF
HER COURSE



Now swift sailed the Bartholomew for four weeks toward the north-
west with a fair wind, and all was well with ship and crew. Then
the wind died out on even of a day, so that the ship scarce made way
at all, though she rolled in a great swell of the sea, so great,
that it seemed to ridge all the main athwart. Moreover down in the
west was a great bank of cloud huddled up in haze, whereas for
twenty days past the sky had been clear, save for a few bright white
clouds flying before the wind. Now the shipmaster, a man right
cunning in his craft, looked long on sea and sky, and then turned
and bade the mariners take in sail and be right heedful. And when
Walter asked him what he looked for, and wherefore he spake not to
him thereof, he said surlily: "Why should I tell thee what any fool
can see without telling, to wit that there is weather to hand?"

So they abode what should befall, and Walter went to his room to
sleep away the uneasy while, for the night was now fallen; and he
knew no more till he was waked up by great hubbub and clamour of the
shipmen, and the whipping of ropes, and thunder of flapping sails,
and the tossing and weltering of the ship withal. But, being a very
stout-hearted young man, he lay still in his room, partly because he
was a landsman, and had no mind to tumble about amongst the shipmen
and hinder them; and withal he said to himself: What matter whether
I go down to the bottom of the sea, or come back to Langton, since
either way my life or my death will take away from me the fulfilment
of desire? Yet soothly if there hath been a shift of wind, that is
not so ill; for then shall we be driven to other lands, and so at
the least our home-coming shall be delayed, and other tidings may
hap amidst of our tarrying. So let all be as it will.

So in a little while, in spite of the ship's wallowing and the
tumult of the wind and waves, he fell asleep again, and woke no more
till it was full daylight, and there was the shipmaster standing in
the door of his room, the sea-water all streaming from his wet-
weather raiment. He said to Walter: "Young master, the sele of the
day to thee! For by good hap we have gotten into another day. Now
I shall tell thee that we have striven to beat, so as not to be
driven off our course, but all would not avail, wherefore for these
three hours we have been running before the wind; but, fair sir, so
big hath been the sea that but for our ship being of the stoutest,
and our men all yare, we had all grown exceeding wise concerning the
ground of the mid-main. Praise be to St. Nicholas and all Hallows!
for though ye shall presently look upon a new sea, and maybe a new
land to boot, yet is that better than looking on the ugly things
down below."

"Is all well with ship and crew then?" said Walter.

"Yea forsooth," said the shipmaster; "verily the Bartholomew is the
darling of Oak Woods; come up and look at it, how she is dealing
with wind and waves all free from fear."

So Walter did on his foul-weather raiment, and went up on to the
quarter-deck, and there indeed was a change of days; for the sea was
dark and tumbling mountain-high, and the white-horses were running
down the valleys thereof, and the clouds drave low over all, and
bore a scud of rain along with them; and though there was but a rag
of sail on her, the ship flew before the wind, rolling a great wash
of water from bulwark to bulwark.

Walter stood looking on it all awhile, holding on by a stay-rope,
and saying to himself that it was well that they were driving so
fast toward new things.

Then the shipmaster came up to him and clapped him on the shoulder
and said: "Well, shipmate, cheer up! and now come below again and
eat some meat, and drink a cup with me."

So Walter went down and ate and drank, and his heart was lighter
than it had been since he had heard of his father's death, and the
feud awaiting him at home, which forsooth he had deemed would stay
his wanderings a weary while, and therewithal his hopes. But now it
seemed as if he needs must wander, would he, would he not; and so it
was that even this fed his hope; so sore his heart clung to that
desire of his to seek home to those three that seemed to call him
unto them.



CHAPTER V: NOW THEY COME TO A NEW LAND



Three days they drave before the wind, and on the fourth the clouds
lifted, the sun shone out and the offing was clear; the wind had
much abated, though it still blew a breeze, and was a head wind for
sailing toward the country of Langton. So then the master said
that, since they were bewildered, and the wind so ill to deal with,
it were best to go still before the wind that they might make some
land and get knowledge of their whereabouts from the folk thereof.
Withal he said that he deemed the land not to be very far distant.

So did they, and sailed on pleasantly enough, for the weather kept
on mending, and the wind fell till it was but a light breeze, yet
still foul for Langton.

So wore three days, and on the eve of the third, the man from the
topmast cried out that he saw land ahead; and so did they all before
the sun was quite set, though it were but a cloud no bigger than a
man's hand.

When night fell they struck not sail, but went forth toward the land
fair and softly; for it was early summer, so that the nights were
neither long nor dark.

But when it was broad daylight, they opened a land, a long shore of
rocks and mountains, and nought else that they could see at first.
Nevertheless as day wore and they drew nigher, first they saw how
the mountains fell away from the sea, and were behind a long wall of
sheer cliff; and coming nigher yet, they beheld a green plain going
up after a little in green bents and slopes to the feet of the said
cliff-wall.

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