BLIND LOVE
HOW shall I tell this gentle story so that
they
who read may not weep too much for the
sorrows that are told
therein; for, indeed,
none must grieve too greatly, seeing that all
comes to a good ending.
This is how a king’s love for his wife, and
the
faithful worship he kept for her, brought
great pain to them both, by the
working of one fairy’s malice, which I
shall now tell you of.
This
king, whose name was Agwisaunce, had to wife
a queen whose beauty was to
him as a veil hiding from him the fairness
of other women. No eyes drew him
but hers, nor did the sweetness of
other lips seem to him a taste worth
having. If I began, I could not finish
telling all the tenderness their
hearts had for each other. But though
their love ripened from year to year,
no fruit of it came to them.
After they had been married many years without children,
there
chanced, one day, into the court of that realm, a fairy
possessing great
sleight of magic, and such beauty as was not safe to look
upon, so
piercing were its effects. And she, being received at the Court
with
much honour, was stricken presently with an uncontrollable
passion
for the King’s person. Such grief falls but seldom to the finer
nature
of which fairies are moulded; yet, when it comes, it strikes
down
mortally into the roots of their being; nor can they rest till fate
has
made accord with their desire.
So it was with this fairy whom love for King Agwisaunce
lowered
to the very dust of humbleness. Though she traced and
traversed to
get the better of his heart, never once could she win him to
turn on her
the amorousness of his eyes, or to pretend knowledge of that to
which
she aimed. Till at last there came a day when in plain words the
fairy made known to him her wound, and Agwisaunce, for his part,
gave her a
downright refusal for answer. ‘I think shame,’ said he,
‘that a great
fairy, such as thou, should seek to come between the love
that two mortals
bear in constancy and pure trust each to other!’ So
at that the fairy
parted from him without more words; and he, believing
her gone, put thought
of it away in secrecy and with a light mind.
But that same night Agwisaunce, in the barred solitude of his
own
chamber, and nigh upon slumber, felt lips that he deemed to
be those of
his own wife coming and going over his face, and he turned to
do honour
to her visit in fair amity. Yet he thought within himself, ‘Why does
she
65
she not kiss me as we always do, in
the hollow under my right ear?’ For
that was the way these lovers had—a
token of things since they were
first wed.
Then he lifted his hands to the face that was by his, saying,
‘Verily,
is it you, beloved?’ And at that came more kisses, but
no answer.
Then the King thought, ‘Now, if I kiss her not in the hollow
under
her right ear, and she ask it not of me, I shall know that there is
some
estrangement come betwixt her and me.’ So then he kissed her
between
the brows and in no other way; and the other made no complaint
at
that, only kissing him the more.
Then Agwisaunce rose up, wondering, and made a light to
know
what plight he was in; yet, when he searched, all the couch
was empty—
none could he see. Then he passed to his Queen’s own chamber,
and
found her sleeping fast. ‘Truly, I have been deceived!’ thought
he,
and returned to lie down. But so soon as he was stretched out at
full
length again, he felt by his side one that kissed and caressed
him
without ceasing.
So, at that, Agwisaunce, making an end to it, pushed his
bed-fellow
from him, saying, ‘This is not my own Queen, but some
other!’ Then
softly the fairy’s voice spake to him; but he, as not hearing
her, cried,
‘Go out, thou great light o’ love! Art thou not ashamed to
follow me
thus?’ But she: ‘Where I have love I have secrecy, but no
shame.
Lie down and do my will; thy wife shall not know. For none saw
me
entering, neither will any see me return. Even as I was to thee
when
thou earnest in with the light, so have I made myself invisible
to
mortal gaze; and where no other can be wise, it is well for thee to
be.’
Then Agwisaunce was up in great wrath; and said he, keeping
her
out from him at arm’s length, ‘Is not the rest enough, but
thou must
take thine invisibility as a cloak to thy foulness, and come in
by stealth
to play the wanton between me and my Queen!’
At which the fairy, seeing that she was not to prevail, cried
back on
him with fury, ‘Ah, virtuous one, now even as thou hast
reviled me
with shameful words, so will I pay it back to thee again! It is
news
to thee that even now thy Queen is with child; and of that there
shall
come a daughter to be a thorn in the side of her parents: for from
the
hour of her birth she shall be invisible, and so shall she remain till
she
also play the wanton. And when she shall have played the wanton,
then
shall that spell be taken off her, and thou shalt see the face of
her
shame and the shame of thy house, and be sorry at last for the
scorn
of thy words this night!’
Then
66
Then the fairy departed, and King Agwisaunce lay down
with
great trembling, and watched till it was morning.
On the morrow the Queen, beholding his mournful
countenance,
and his gaze ever at her girdle, wherein he beheld
sorrow now grow,
besought him by all his love to tell her wherein life
ailed for him.
Then little by little she drew out from him a part of that
story; but on
one part his lips stayed dumb, only said he, ‘There remains
one
condition by which the spell shall be loosed and our daughter given
to
our eyes; but as to that, pray that thou never have reason to behold
her
face! Rather ask Heaven to keep her as she is born.’ And when the
Queen asked him what it might be, he answered, ‘If I told you so
much,
straightway your pains would seize you and the child die, born
too soon for
life to be in it. Never ask me to tell you that!’
So, not many months after, the Queen’s time came for her to
be
delivered; and she wept bitterly over the thought of the
child that was
to be born like a ghost out of her womb, nor ever to bless
her eyes
with its beauty for a solace to all her sorrow. Presently there
was
heard in the palace the cry of a new-born babe; and those that were
in
the chamber, hearing the cry but beholding nothing, knew that the
curse had fallen: for all knew that a curse had been foretold on the
birth.
But none save the King and Queen knew the cause of it, and only
the King by
what way to be rid of it.
The King reached out his hands and took up into them the
invisible
life that struggled and wailed sadly at being born;
then the mother,
clasping her child to her breast, felt it over from head
to foot, and,
even as she wept for the useless longing of her eyes,
declared that no
child so perfectly formed, from the dimple of its head to
the cushioned
soles of its feet, had ever before been born into the
world.
After that came the christening: never was so strange a one
since
time began, for the priest could not see the babe he held,
and had she
fallen from his arms she might have been drowned past finding.
The
whole Court drew a breath of relief when she was given back safe
into
her mother’s arms, bearing the name of Innygreth.
With what trouble and losings and findings again her
babyhood
was passed, it would be wearisome to tell. But before
long the Princess
took her life into her own hands and shaped out her own
fate. For
from the moment that she could walk she became the most
surprising
and perplexing of charges. Here one moment, she was gone the
next,
and unless it were her royal will to let sound go forth of her
where-
abouts, she was more lost to mortal reach than a needle in a load of
hay.
But
67
But gradually, as babyhood wore off, she became gracious and
kind
in her way, yet sad that she had no other children to play
with. At
times they would hear her stop in her walk before one of the
great
mirrors of the palace, and there stand whispering softly to
herself.
But whether what her eyes saw were her own image or no she
would
never tell.
All that her touch rested on and warmed became invisible as
her-
self. Her clothes and all the jewels and feathers that were
put upon
her, warmed by her body, passed out of sight.
Slowly her mind grew in gentleness and grace of her own
choosing.
That her presence might be known, she took to bearing
always in her
hand a lighted taper. And all the taper, when her fingers
closed on it,
became invisible as her dress; but the flame, since she did
not touch
that, burned clear. So wherever a light went travelling about in
mid-
air the courtiers knew that Princess Innygreth was in its company.
On her tenth birthday the Princess came to the Queen and
said,
‘Beautiful mother, would it not gladden thy heart to see
only a little
part of me, of whom for ten years thou hast seen nothing?’
‘Oh, my
Beautiful, fate holds thee, and I cannot!’ replied her mother.
Then Innygreth, reaching out her hand, loosed from it
something
that shone as it fell into the Queen’s lap; for as
soon as she loosed it
out of her hand it became visible. And the Queen saw
there a great pile
of golden hair that shone like fire, which the Princess
had cut off that
her mother might learn how beautiful she was.
The Queen laughed and cried with joy, as, for the first time,
her
eyes were blest with the sight of a small part of her
daughter’s loveli-
ness. And even more did Innygreth herself cry and weep.
‘I have
given you all of it,’ she sobbed, ‘because I love you so!’
As the Princess grew older she became very wise. ‘Where do
you
learn all these things?’ asked the King. ‘You do not read
many
books.’
‘I blow out my light,’ said the Princess, ‘and I learn things
as they
are, and not as princesses are used to be taught them. I
know many
things that you do not. Some day when I know more I will teach
you
how to govern well.’ The King laughed at that; but the Princess
was
grave. ‘To me,’ she said, ‘all the world is like a glass: I see it, but
it
does not see me.’
Now, as soon as the Princess drew near to the age for
marriage, the
King began thinking that to have her roaming free,
fluttering the
downy wings of her unguarded virginity, was a tempting of God’s
providence.
68
providence. Therefore he began scouring
the world to find a fit suitor
for her hand.
Many came, indeed, to the Court, drawn by the story of her
mar-
vellous manner of life, her great wisdom, and possible
beauty; but
though all were won by the charm of her voice, they dreaded
that
peace with honour could not come in the possession of a wife over
whose doings only the eye of Heaven could keep watch. Some, indeed
thought
that the spell under which the Princess lay was friendly to her
fortunes
and a trap to the unwary, and that her invisibility concealed a
hideousness
which marriage alone would reveal.
One and all the suitors retired with polite elongations of
regrets
and the King fell to breakfasting on despair; and a
trepidation lest his
daughter should one day swim scandalously into view
before the eyes
of the whole Court caught him in the small of his back
whenever he
opened a door or turned a corner.
Now, there was then serving about the palace a youth named
Sir
Percyn, he being a lieutenant in the King’s guard, and a
fellow of most
merry wit. All things he did came so gladly off his
conscience they
had the apparent seeming of virtue. As for his virtues, he
cloaked
them in such waywardness that men, having to laugh, forgot
afterwards
to admire. Were he to do any bravery, he covered it by a wager;
or a
gentleness, he did it by a jest. But the Princess, passing unseen
and
unknown out and among the precincts of the court, saw Sir Percyn
when he wist little who looked at him, nor was making capers to con-
ceal
his cherubimity.
It was not long before Innygreth favoured him wondrously,
and,
with maidenly reserve blowing out the light of her
presence, lingered
daily in his company, warming her regard for the one man
who was the
same, whether before kings or behind them.
Now, Innygreth, being so sheltered by her birthright, at once
from
the assaults and the safeguards men make on womanly
innocence,
whether to foul or to foster it, had great knowledge of many
things
that are shuttered from the eyes of most maidens. Therefore she
was
honest without confusion, and had modesty without fear; and having
had no shame for her own body since the day of her birth, had no
shame of
it in others. Also rank she saw below and over; truly
between the crowns
that bowed and the crowns that were bowed to, it
seemed a little space to
her.
Thus she passed down through all her father’s court, from the
men
of state till she came to the lower grades where Sir Percyn
made gay—
a
73
a light of March-moon madness round
his head; and there she stayed
and searched no further, having found the
unit of her thoughts.
As one learns to love the south wind when it blows full of
the
breath of flowers, though one sees it not, so Sir Percyn
grew in love with
the toils of her sweet voice. So much he loved her that
in a while she
lost with him her power of stolen marches, and came she
never so
silently and with no light, still he knew her to be there, and the
colour
would run to his face to meet her as she came. All may guess
how
after that she knew that her heart held its wish.
For three days she let him go sad, but after that she could
no longer
withstand the springing tenderness of her love. That
time she put her
hands about his face, and let word of it go. ‘Thou loon,
thou loon!’
said she; ‘why ever dost thou not speak?’ And quoth Sir Percyn,
trem-
bling between great joy and sorrow : ‘Speak what, thou eclipser of
mine
eyes?’ Innygreth answered, ‘Truth only, thou moon of madness!
Nay, nay! to be ashamed for loving me so well!’ And before he
knew what
more not to do, her invisible heart lay knocking at his side,
as wanting to
get in.
Then he, thinking of all her height above him in the world,
and the
gulf that sovereignty and power made betwixt her and
him, held her the
more closely for that, and out of hopelessness grew bold;
and he cried
out in anger and exultation, ‘Nay, now 1 have thee, I will
never let thee
go!’ She laughed for pure pride.
‘Between us,’ she said, ‘is a great gulf fixed that no bridge
can
cross.’ ‘Our love fills it,’ he answered; ‘it carries us.’
‘To what shore?’
she asked him. ‘To thine or mine—it is all one,’ he
answered.
‘Thou knowest me,’ said Innygreth; ‘wouldst thou see my
face?’
She took his hand and laid it over her unviewed features.
Her knight
thrilled to feel the loveliness that lay there. ‘Tell it me,’
she murmured,
‘for till now I have heard no man praise my beauty.’
Sir Percyn, moving his hand as a blind man that reads,
said:
‘Thine eyes drink the light as the deer drink up the
brooks. Thy
lips are a rose-garden where the rocks make echoes; thy cheeks
are
a land of blossoming orchards; and thy brows are the gates of
heaven.
Though I have not seen thy face, now I know it, for my love has
filled
the gulf and carried me through to the Invisible wherein thou
dwellest.’
Now, none need tell what lovers say when they have once said
all,
nor how often, if they have means, they meet. Between
Innygreth and
Sir Percyn there began to be long meetings and partings, and the
Princess,
74
Princess, being free from the bonds
that hold others, was like moon-
light and sunlight about her lover’s
ways.
Often at the dead of night she would come into the chamber
where
he lay, and sit watching him asleep, or, waking him, would
hold his
hands, and, till pure darkness fell before dawn, music to him with
her
sweet voice. And Sir Percyn, beholding in his lady a modesty
without
fear and a trust that dreaded no shame, became afraid with the
great
bliss of the love that heaven allowed, and trembled daily while
she
drew him to the heights of her own nature, that, having so much
love,
had no room for guile.
When he was on guard by night at the palace, he would wait
below
the roses that climbed to Innygreth’s chamber, and if she
waved her
light to him, then he was up by flying buttress and carved
moulding
among the reddest of them all, hanging across the window-sill,
and
embracing Innygreth in his arms. Many and soft then were the words
by them spoken; but a sharp-eared crone that was put by the King to
be
about the Princess caught some sound of them.
She came and whispered to the King how at night there was
the
sound of a man’s voice in his daughter’s chamber, and
chirpings like
birds in the leaves about the window—so many that she
trembled and
lost count of them.
Agwisaunce, when he heard that, took so large a panic that
he
stooped down his pride, and night by night hid himself in the
arras of
Innygreth’s chamber to learn how near might be the undoing of
the
honour of his house. And, surely, on the third night he heard the
Princess move out of her bed, and through the window the sound of
one
climbing the wall without, and presently kisses so many and
passionate
that, fearing what next might have place, he leapt forth,
crying out on his
daughter for a wanton. At which word one blow
caught him and laid him down
for a while prone and speechless; for
Sir Percyn, hearing the honour of his
fair love slandered, and knowing
not that it was the King, fetched
Agwisaunce so full a buffet that the
thing became high treason. And betwixt
this and that, Sir Percyn’s head
was forfeit by the time the King had
recovered consciousness.
So the next day all the Court heard how Sir Percyn was
under
arrest to be tried for an attempt on the King’s life and
honour. Nor
through all incredulity and bewilderment did any get nearer to
the
truth than that.
But now more and more the King was seized by a horrible fear
lest
some fine morning he should find his daughter made visible
before his
eyes,
75
eyes, and her bloom and reputation
flown from her like the raven out
of the ark. ‘Already she goes the way of
a wanton,’ he said, ‘and that
is a short road with a quick ending. Though
walls have ears, for her
they have not eyes. How shall I keep her, then, so
that I be not
presently shamed in my own palace?’
Now, even while he trembled over his daughter, so
contagiously
disposed towards her fate, there fell to him, like
a star out of the lap
of Fortune, a suitor for the hand of Princess
Innygreth. The Prince of
a neighbouring country, amorous with curiosity for
the wooing of
invisible loveliness, sent word asking for the hand of the
Princess in
marriage.
The King showered the news with tears of gratitude, and
returned
urgent greetings, beseeching the Prince to come in the
place of his
messengers. Before a week had passed the palace was full of
him.
He came in high feather, and with a great retinue, eager to
behold
the unbeholdable that was to be his bride.
As for Innygreth, she kept her peace, and went her ways at
leisure,
carrying ropes and files and ladders and swords and
chain-armour to
her lover in prison, that by craft or courage he might make
his way out
and escape ; and all this she did by the spell of invisibility
which
rested on her. ‘But first,’ said Sir Percyn, ‘I will stand my trial,
and
declare my innocence before my judges.’ And that, indeed, was the
wreck of his chances; for when, after long waiting, he was tried secretly
and condemned to death, he was placed at once in a narrow cell, where
the
windows were so narrow that no filing could make room for a man’s
body to
pass through, and the walls were too thick and the warders
too many for
there to be any other means of escape. But all this was
afterwards.
Therefore, at the time of the Prince-suitor’s coming,
Innygreth’s
mind was at ease, and she had full confidence that
her power should
work her lover’s release; and as for marriage, she knew
that in the
end she was her own mistress.
So when the Prince stood before her, and fawned and bowed,
she
curtseyed to him with her candle and told him she liked him
well. And
the wooing prospered, being pushed on by the King, till a whisper
got
to the suitor that the Princess was not so discreet of blood as to
make
a safe wife if none could watch over her. At that his suit also
faltered,
and he talked of affairs of state requiring a postponement of
the
nuptials.
Then the King in despair told him what he had never told to
man
before,
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before, and by what hard condition
alone his daughter could ever escape
from her invisibility. Then the
Prince-suitor, who had a fine presence
and a light heart, laughed, and
said, ‘It seems to me that if the
Princess will but consent to like me well
enough one day before
our marriage, I may lead a fair bride to the altar in
the eyes of
all men.’
When King Agwisaunce took in the discreet ingenuity of the
pro-
posal, he became perfectly shocked with joy; and thought
he, hugging
his conscience into a corner, ‘Am I a father or a monster to
devise this
thing for my own daughter?’ Nevertheless, despair of other
salvation
so pricked him that he hurried on eagerly the preparations for
the
nuptials. For all the while terror blew on him in little hot gusts lest
his
daughter should forestall him and ruin all: since, were she now to
appear
visible to the world, the Prince-suitor would understand the cause
and
have plain grounds for breaking the matter off.
The old crone that watched over Innygreth said to her
father:
‘Often the Princess is not in her chamber, and I know
not whither she
goes.’ But the King, when he heard that, knew and
trembled.
Therefore to make all sure, he caused every door to be locked on
her,
meaning to keep her within, a close prisoner, till the morning of
her
marriage.
And now Sir Percyn being tried and condemned, the hour for
his
beheading had been fixed; and by the King’s will, it was to
be at
midnight on the night before Innygreth’s marriage. As that day
approached, whenever the King and the Prince-suitor met, the latter
smiled,
as it is said augurs do, but the King cast down his eyes.
And now, indeed, despair was eating up the heart of
Innygreth, for
she herself was behind locks, that try as she
would she might not slip
by, and she heard from the talk of her women how
the night before
her marriage was to be the night also of Sir Percyn’s
doom.
Now the grief that the Princess had no man could see, though
her
face was bowed down under the foreshadow of her lover’s
death. Her
light she put away, for often the shuddering in her hands might
not
hold it; but her lips gave out no sound of her sorrow. Only her
mother, coming to Innygreth’s chamber, heard the soft falling of tears
upon
the floor. ‘Ah, my child!’ cried the Queen, and for pity brought
the King
in, and showed him where a pool had formed itself from that
pure sorrow;
and she said bitterly, ‘Thou canst not behold our
daughter’s face, yet thou
canst behold her tears: see the river of that
grief which is in her! Yea, I
have heard her heart breaking which I
cannot
77
cannot see! Presently, I think, she
will fall dead into our presence, and I
shall behold her beauty too late
but to weep over it. Is that indeed
the end promised for her by the fairy?’
But the King said, ‘That is
not the end. Though even now he would not tell
her how the end was
to be. ‘This is but a passing shower,’ said he:
‘to-morrow she shall
shine!’
Every day brought in piles of presents for the bride, and
every night
the palace was a-blaze with lights; but the King was
sore at heart
over the heavy condition that lay between him and the
achievement of
his daughter’s happiness, and his thoughts grew full of
tenderness. He
came and felt for her head bowed all low with grief: ‘Wilt
thou not
trust a loving father,’ said he, fondling it, ‘that to have thee
happy and
sound before his eyes is all the desire of his heart? But thy
fate makes
the way hard. Only believe that whoever I shall send unto thee,
bear-
ing my signet-ring, comes for thy good; and to-morrow, if thou
wilt
obey me well, thou shalt be a fair wife in the eyes of all.’
Then, when the hour drew on into night, he took her hand and
led
her softly to her bed-chamber; and said he, ‘See, I will
myself keep the
key to thy chamber; and whatsoever cometh through to thee
this night
cometh of my love. And this I swear to thee by my royal word,
that
to-morrow, when I see thy face plain, then thou hast only to ask
thy
will, and it shall be my wedding gift to thee, were it the half of
my
kingdom.’
He said to her waiting-woman: ‘When the Princess has put off
her
attire, bring it all forth from the chamber, that she may
not rise up
again this night.’ For he feared yet that she might rise by
stealth in
the night and give the slip to her fortune.
Therefore, when presently the Princess had unrobed herself
and put
out the light of her presence, the waiting-woman brought
forth all the
attire she had worn that day, and left Innygreth in only her
bed-linen,
nor was any other garment left for her to put on.
So presently, when all the palace slept, the King gave his
signet-
ring to the Prince-suitor, and also the keys of every
door, and, bidding
him God-speed, made haste and departed.
The Princess, left alone, rose up from her bed and found her
gar-
ments flown. Yet had that hindrance been to her as to other
maidens
it had not kept her from her lover’s side, whose last hour on earth
now
drew near. Therefore, the door being fast, she opened her window
and
leaned forth, where so often before she had leaned with the touch
of
Sir Percyn’s face upon hers.
The
78
The deep warm summer night shed its breath upon her lips full
of
the scent of roses. So, remembering him about to die, she put
forth
her tender limbs and climbed down by the stems of the roses till her
feet
embraced the cool herbs below.
As she went, great thorns had made wounds in hands and feet,
so
that ruby drops fell from them and mingled with the large
tears of dew
that hung on the grass edges that she trod.
She passed by terrace and lawn and bower, till she came to
the
baser courts and quadrangles where the service of the castle
was done.
The draw-well was at rest after its day’s labour. In the two
buckets,
left standing for chance use during the night, water was wrinkling
in
the light of a grey moon. As she was crossing the open, a white
hound
came and lapped in one of the pails, drew out his head, and
yawned
with the water dripping off his jowl. Innygreth shivered, for he
had
not nosed her in passing, and she knew that this was the hound of
death waiting till midnight should strike.
By the chapel’s west front she passed down more steps, and,
crossing
the garth, saw a lantern, and two men working under its
beams. She
stayed then, and saw how with pick and spade they had made
room
enough in the ground for a man to lie. The mould, as they threw it
out
fell over her bare feet. ‘The midnight brings rain!’ said one of
the
diggers, looking up. And Innygreth turned her about and went
swiftly,
having looked into a living man’s grave.
Then came she to the guard-house, passing between the two
sentinels
who stood there with crossed pikes. And at the door of
her knight’s cell
she halted, bidding herself have patience; for she knew
that presently
the jailor must come with the wine and the last loaf which
Sir Percyn
might eat ere he broke fast on the morrow in the fair house of
God
amid the company of His saints.
So she leaned her ear to the door, and heard calm breathing
within.
Then, even in her present distress, she had joy,
thanking fate that had
let her hold come fast on a heart so noble as
this.
Presently came the jailor, carrying the spare meal that was
to be
Sir Percyn’s last; and he opened the door softly, and set
it down by
the bed, sighing to himself that so fair a youth was presently
to die,
for all that knew Sir Percyn loved him well.
Ye know well, how where he had let one in he locked in
two.
She, indeed, sat down on the bed watching Sir Percyn’s
face; and,
feeling the coldness of the prison walls striking into her, she
took
up her knight’s cloak to lay over her shoulders, and covered up
her
79
her feet with the rest of his garments
that he had taken off ere he
lay down.
Presently she heard the blessing of her own name breathed
through
his sleep, and at that leaned down her face into the
hollow of his palm
where it lay upon the coverlet, and kissed it as one
kisses the shrines of
saints. In a while it closed softly upon her
features, as a sensitive plant
over the visiting bee whose honey it would
take, and a waking voice
said, ‘Is it Innygreth that is here?’
‘Even she, and sorrow!’ moaned the Princess, and laid her
face
against his.
‘O beloved,’ he said, ‘keep those dear eyes dry!’ For thick
tears
traced over him from under her lids, and even then a spot
of blood
from her hand showed upon his as he reached up to stroke her
face.
Then he started, clasping her. ‘How art thou wounded, beloved,
he
cried, ‘if this cometh from thee?’
She answered : ‘The roses, by which thou earnest to me, I
climbed
down to thee.’ ‘Oh, blessed sad chance!’ he cried,
embracing her; ‘for
now mine eyes have seen the sweet colour of thy blood,
shed out of
dear veins for love of me!’ And as his arms clung round her in
bitter
sweet joy at that last meeting, he said, ‘Thou art cold, love,
and
trembling, for thy meek body is all but naked in this house of
death
where I am held captive!’ But she said, ‘What does cold or pain
matter any more? Now I am by thy side it matters not; and when
thou art
gone, neither will it matter then. I have failed to win thy
freedom or
mine. I have failed in all but to dig thy grave in the chapel
garth by the
light of this grey moon!’ ‘But,’ said he, ‘though I had
failed in all,
having gained thee I should be happier in my end than
all they who live,
not knowing thy sweetness.’
Thus these lovers, each unto each, the saddest sweet things
that
hearts may make lips speak when parting comes to them. And
the
Princess took from him a lock of his hair, to have for ever on her
heart
when he was not there. And he said, ‘Beloved, hast thou it safe?’
In
my breast!’ said she; but he: ‘Now thou wearest it, it is gone from
my sight.’
Then she said, musing sorrowfully, ‘Though I can come and go
as
I will, I have found no way for thee to escape; for this
window is too
narrow and these walls are too thick for thee to pass
through, though
by stealth I have brought thee file and rope, seeing that
what I hold
close to my own body shares my invisibility to the eyes of
man.’
And even while she spake, there was heard below the tread of
heavy
feet,
80
feet, and the clatter and ring of steel
arms; and by that the lovers knew
that herewith came the guard to take Sir
Percyn forth to the place of
execution. Then, while yet the sound grew up
the winding of the
stairs, Innygreth compassed the full use that she might
make of her
charm : and before Sir Percyn knew what she would do, she
had
slipped into the bed and folded herself about him from head to
foot.
And with her lips to his face, winding her long hair over him :
‘Be quiet, thou dead man,’ spake she, ‘for now my body holds
thine
safe!’
And therewith those without, reaching the door, unlocked and
threw
it wide. And lo! a bed empty, and a cell void, as all eyes
might plainly
behold.
So straightway went out the cry that the prisoner was loose;
and
the guard, leaving the door wide, sped forth to search and
stop all
ways of exit from the castle.
Then Sir Percyn, lying hived in the warm breast of fair
Innygreth,
began to tremble at the very greatness of her mercy,
and to be held so
close in those dear arms. And spake he, twixt fear for
his own frailty
and worship for her divine charity, ‘Loose me, my heaven,
and let us
go, for the door stands open!’ ‘Nay,’ said she, ‘lie down, thou
dear
loon! For if we go forth together now, they will see thee, and
thou
wilt be taken. To-morrow the door will still be there, and we may
get
forth by some secret way, as I shall devise. But unless thou lie still,
I
cannot keep thee all hid, nor wrap thee safe from men’s eyes. O, my
loon, my loon, I have taken thee up to me out of the grave; and this
night
I will hold my dead man safe!’
So in the morning, when the King, dreading whether the
Princess
had indeed escaped (for the Prince-suitor after long
search had found
her not), and hearing of the flight of Sir Percyn, came in
great haste
and dread to that cell:—he saw, indeed, that fair youth lying
asleep
and by his side a woman of most touching beauty, so sweet and
pure
and lovely an image of the Queen’s youth, that he doubted not it
must be his own daughter whom he saw.
And as he gazed, in bitter wrath for all of which that sight
gave
token, the two sleepers stirred and opened glad eyes each
to each. Wit
ye well King Agwisaunce heard much sweet speech and worship
pass
between the pair, ere the Princess lifted her gaze to behold the
King’s
eyes fixed on her, full of fury. And first she trembled and
fluttered at
the sight of his wrath, and threw her arms protectingly over
her lover
to keep him hidden from the King’s eyes. But in a while, so new was
the
81
the fixedness of his gaze, that she
started up crying, ‘Oh, my Father,
canst thou indeed see me with thine
eyes?’
‘Yea, wanton, I do see thee!’ he answered; ‘A heavy sight it
is.
There thou liest with thy doomed paramour beside thee!’
Then Innygreth lifted herself smiling and said, ‘O Father,
since
now thou seest me, my will is that for a wedding gift thou
do give me
this very Sir Percyn to wed and live with in happiness and
honour to
my life’s end!’
Then the King remembered how he had given her his royal
word;
and as she had willed, so had it to be. Therefore is an
end come to
my story.
Now, had the King been as other men, and let the fairy’s will
be in
the first place, none of these sorrows had come about, nor
need any
have been wise concerning that thing, nor this have been
written.
Wherefore ye who like this tale be glad that the King erred not in
faith
to his wife; and ye that like it not, be grieved.
MLA citation:
Housman, Laurence. “Blind Love.” The Pageant, 1897, pp. 64-81. Pageant Digital Edition, edited by Frederick King and Lorraine Janzen Kooistra, 2019-2021. Yellow Nineties 2.0, Ryerson University Centre for Digital Humanities, 2021. https://1890s.ca/pag2-housman-love/