The Hollow Land by William Morris
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William Morris >> The Hollow Land
"Ah!" she said, "you will talk more when you get used to the air of
the Hollow Land. Have you been thinking of your past life at all? If
not, try to think of it. What thing in Heaven or Earth do you Wish for
most?"
Still I said no word; but she said in a wearied way: "Well now, I
think you will be strong enough to get to your feet and walk; take my
hand and try." Therewith she held it out: I strove hard to be brave
enough to take it, but could not; I only turned away shuddering, sick,
and grieved to the heart's core of me; then struggling hard with hand
and knee and elbow, I scarce rose, and stood up totteringly; while she
watched me sadly, still holding out her hand.
But as I rose, in my swinging to and fro the steel sheath of my sword
struck her on the hand so that the blood flowed from it, which she
stood looking at for a while, then dropped it downwards, and turned to
look at me, for I was going.
Then as I walked she followed me, so I stopped and turned and said
almost fiercely: "I am going alone to look for my brother."
The vehemence with which I spoke, or something else, burst some
blood-vessel within my throat, and we both stood there with the blood
running from us on to the grass and summer flowers.
She said: "If you find him, wait with him till I come."
"Yea," and I turned and left her, following the course of the stream
upwards, and as I went I heard her low singing that almost broke my
heart for its sadness.
And I went painfully because of my weakness, and because also of the
great stones; and sometimes I went along a spot of earth where the
river had been used to flow in flood-time, and which was now bare of
everything but stones; and the sun, now risen high, poured down on
everything a great flood of fierce light and scorching heat, and burnt
me sorely, so that I almost fainted.
But about noontide I entered a wood close by the stream, a beech-wood,
intending to rest myself; the herbage was thin and scattered there,
sprouting up from amid the leaf-sheaths and nuts of the beeches, which
had fallen year after year on that same spot; the outside boughs swept
low down, the air itself seemed green when you entered within the
shadow of the branches, they over-roofed the place so with tender
green, only here and there showing spots of blue.
But what lay at the foot of a great beech tree but some dead knight in
armour, only the helmet off? A wolf was prowling round about it, who
ran away snarling when he saw me coming.
So I went up to that dead knight, and fell on my knees before him,
laying my head on his breast, for it was Arnald. He was quite cold,
but had not been dead for very long; I would not believe him dead, but
went down to the stream and brought him water, tried to make him
drink-what would you? He was as dead as Swanhilda: neither came there
any answer to my cries that afternoon but the moaning of the wood
doves in the beeches. So then I sat down and took his head on my
knees, and closed the eyes, and wept quietly while the sun sank lower.
But a little after sunset I heard a rustle through the leaves, that
was not the wind, and looking up my eyes met the pitying eyes of that
maiden.
Something stirred rebelliously within me; I ceased weeping, and said:
"It is unjust, unfair: What right had Swanhilda to live? Did not God
give her up to us? How much better was he than ten Swanhildas?
And look you -- See! He is DEAD."
Now this I shrieked out, being mad; and though I trembled when I saw
some stormy wrath that vexed her very heart and loving lips, gathering
on her face, I yet sat there looking at her and screaming, screaming,
till all the place rang.
But when growing hoarse and breathless I ceased; she said, with
straitened brow and scornful mouth: "So! Bravely done! Must I then,
though I am a woman, call you a liar, for saying God is unjust? You to
punish her, had not God then punished her already? How many times when
she woke in the dead night do you suppose she missed seeing King
Urrayne's pale face and hacked head lying on the pillow by her side?
Whether by night or day, what things but screams did she hear when the
wind blew loud round about the Palace corners? And did not that face
too, often come before her, pale and bleeding as it was long ago, and
gaze at her from unhappy eyes! Poor eyesi With changed purpose in
them- no more hope of converting the world when that blow was once
struck, truly it was very wicked-no more dreams, but only fierce
struggles with the Devil for very life, no more dreams but failure at
last, and death, happier so in the Hollow Land."
She grew so pitying as she gazed at his dead face that I began to weep
again unreasonably, while she saw not that I was weeping, but looked
only on Arnald's face, but after turned on me frowning. "Unjust! Yes,
truly unjust enough to take away life and all hope from her; you have
done a base cowardly act, you and your brother here, disguise it as
you may; you deserve all God's judgment - you"
But I turned my eyes and wet face to her, and said: "Do not curse me
there - do not look like Swanhilda: for see now, you said at first
that you have been waiting long for me, give me your hand now, for I
love you so."
Then she came and knelt by where I sat, and I caught her in my arms
and she prayed to be forgiven.
"0, Florian! I have indeed waited long for you, and when I saw you my
heart was filled with joy, but you would neither touch me nor speak to
me, so that I became almost mad, forgive me, we will be so happy now.
0! do you know this is what I have been waiting for all these years;
it made me glad, I know, when I was a little baby in my mother's arms
to think I was born for this; and afterwards, as I grew up, I used to
watch every breath of wind through the beech-boughs, every turn of the
silver poplar leaves, thinking it might be you or some news of you."
Then I rose and drew her up with me; but she knelt again by my
brother's side, and kissed him, and said:
"0 brother! The Hollow Land is only second best of the places God has
made, for Heaven also is the work of His hand."
Afterwards we dug a deep grave among the beechroots and there we
buried Amald de Liliis.
And I have never seen him since, scarcely even in dreams; surely God
has had mercy on him, for he was very leal and true and brave; he
loved many men, and was kind and gentle to his friends, neither did he
hate any but Swanhilda.
But as for us two, Margaret and me, I cannot tell you concerning our
happiness, such things cannot be told; only this I know, that we abode
continually in the Hollow Land until I lost it.
Moreover this I can tell you. Margaret was walking with me, as she
often walked near the place where I had first seen her; presently we
came upon a woman sitting, dressed in scarlet and gold raiment, with
her head laid down on her knees; likewise we heard her sobbing.
"Margaret, who is she?" I said: "I knew not that any dwelt in the
Hollow Land but us two only."
She said, "I know not who she is, only sometimes; these many years, I
have seen her scarlet robe flaming from far away, amid the quiet green
grass: but I was never so near her as this.
Florian, I am afraid: let us come away."
FYTTE THE SECOND
Such a horrible grey November day it was, the fog-smell all about, the
fog creeping into our very bones.
And I sat there, trying to recollect, at any rate something, under
those fir-trees that I ought to have known so well.
Just think now; I had lost my best years some- where; for I was past
the prime of life, my hair and beard were scattered with white, my
body was growing weaker, my memory of all things was very faint
My raiment, purple and scarlet and blue once, was so stained that you
could scarce call it any colour, was so tattered that it scarce
covered my body, though it seemed once to have fallen in heavy folds
to my feet, and still, when I rose to walk, though the miserable
November mist lay in great drops upon my bare breast, yet was I
obliged to wind my raiment over my arm, it dragged so (wretched,
slimy, textureless thing! ) in the brown mud.
On my head was a light morion, which pressed on my brow and pained me;
so I put my hand up to take it ofi; but when I touched it I stood
still in my walk shuddering; I nearly fell to the earth with shame and
sick horror; for I laid my hand on a lump of Slimy earth with worms
coiled up in it I could scarce forbear from shrieking, but breathing
such a prayer as I could think of, I raised my hand again and seized
it firmly. Worse horror stilll The rust had eaten it into holes, and I
gripped my own hair as well as the rotting steel, the sharp edge of
which cut into my fingers; but setting my teeth, gave a great wrench,
for I knew that if I let go of it then, no power on the earth or under
it could make me touch it again. God be praised! I tore it off and
cast it far from me; I saw the earth, and the worms and green weeds
and sun- begotten slime, whirling out from it radiatingly, as it spun
round about.
I was girt with a sword too, the leathern belt of which had shrunk and
squeezed my waist: dead leaves had gathered in knots about the buckles
of it, the gilded handle was encrusted with clay in many parts, the
velvet sheath miserably worn.
But, verily, when I took hold of the hilt, and pent in my hand; lo!
then, I drew out my own true blade and shook it flawless from hilt to
point, gleaming white in that mist.
Therefore it sent a thrill of joy to my heart, to know that there was
one friend left me yet: I sheathed it again carefully, and undoing it
from my waist, hung it about my neck.
Then catching up my rags in my arms, I drew them up till my legs and
feet were altogether clear from them, afterwards folded my arms over
my breast, gave a long leap and ran, looking downward, but not giving
heed to my way.
Once or twice I fell over stumps of trees, and such- like, for it was
a cut-down wood that I was in, but I rose always, though bleeding and
confused, and went on still; sometimes tearing madly through briars
and gorse bushes, so that my blood dropped on the dead leaves as I
went.
I ran in this way for about an hour; then I heard a gurgling and
splashing of waters; I gave a great shout and leapt strongly, with
shut eyes, and the black water closed over me.
When I rose again, I saw near me a boat with a man in it; but the
shore was far off; I struck out toward the boat, but my clothes which
I had knotted and folded about me, weighed me down terribly.
The man looked at me, and began to paddle toward me with the oar he
held in his left hand, having in his right a long, slender spear,
barbed like a fish-hook; perhaps, I thought, it is some fishing spear;
moreover his raiment was of scarlet, with upright stripes of yellow
and black all over it.
When my eye caught his, a smile widened his mouth as if some one had
made a joke; but I was beginning to sink, and indeed my head was
almost under water just as he came and stood above me, but before it
went quite under, I saw his spear gleam, then felt it in my shoulder,
and for the present, felt nothing else.
When I woke I was on the bank of that river; the flooded waters went
hurrying past me; no boat on them now; from the river the ground went
up in gentle slopes till it grew a great hill, and there, on that
hill-top, Yes, I might forget many things, almost everything, but not
that, not the old castle of my fathers up among the hills, its towers
blackened now and shattered, yet still no enemy's banner waved from
it.
So I said I would go and die there? and at this thought I drew my
sword, which yet hung about my neck, and shook it in the air till the
true steel quivered, then began to pace towards the castle. I was
quite naked, no rag about me; I took no heed of that only thanking God
that my sword was left, and so toiled up the hill. I entered the
castle soon by the outer court; I knew the way so well, that I did not
lift my eyes from the groimd, but walked on over the lowered
drawbridge through the unguarded gates, and stood in the great hall at
lastmy father's hall as bare of everything but my sword as when I came
into the world fifty years before: I had as little clothes, as little
wealth, less memory and thought, I verily believe, than then.
So I lifted up my eyes and gazed; no glass in the windows, no hangings
on the walls; the vaulting yet held good throughout, but seemed to be
going; the mortar had fallen out from between the stones, and grass
and fern grew in the joints; the marble pavement was in some places
gone, and water stood about in puddles, though one scarce knew how it
had got there.
No hangings on the walls- no; yet, strange to say, instead of them,
the walls blazed from end to end with scarlet paintings, only striped
across with green damp-marks in many places, some falling bodily from
the wall, the plaster hanging down with the fading colour on it.
In all of them, except for the shadows and the faces of the figures,
there was scarce any colour but scarlet and yellow. Here and there it
seemed the painter, whoever it was, had tried to make his trees or his
grass green, but it would not do; some ghastly thoughts must have
filled his head, for all the green went presently into yellow,
out-sweeping through the picture dismally. But the faces were painted
to the very life, or it seemed so; there were only five of them,
however, that were very marked or came much in the foreground; and
four of these I knew well, though I did not then remember the names of
those that had borne them. They were Red Harald, Swanhilda, Amald, and
myself. The fifth I did not know; it was a woman's and very beautiful.
Then I saw that in some parts a small penthouse roof had been built
over the paintings, to keep them from the weather. Near one of these
stood a man painting, clothed in red, with stripes of yellow and
black: Then I knew that it was the same man who had saved me from
drowning by spearing me through the shoulder; so I went up to him, and
saw furthermore that he was girt with a heavy sword. He turned round
when he saw me coming, and asked me fiercely what I did there. I asked
why he was painting in my castle.
Thereupon, with that same grim smile widening his mouth as heretofore,
he said, "I paint God's judgments."
And as he spoke, he rattled the sword in his scabbard; but I said,
"Well, then, you paint them very badly. Listen; I know God's judgments
much better than you do. See now; I will teach you God's judgments,
and you shall teach me painting."
While I spoke he still rattled his sword, and when I had done, shut
his right eye tight, screwing his nose on one side; then said:
"You have got no clothes on, and may go to the devil! What do you know
about God's judgments?"
"Well, they are not all yellow and red, at all events; you ought to
know better."
He screamed out, "0 you fool! Yellow and red! Gold and blood, what do
they make?"
"Well," I said; "what?"
"HELL!" And, coming close up to me, he struck me with his open hand in
the face, so that the colour with which his hand was smeared was
dabbed about my face. The blow almost threw me down; and, while I
staggered, he rushed at me furiously with his sword. Perhaps it was
good for me that I had got no clothes on; for, being utterly
unencumbered, I leapt this way and that, and avoided his fierce, eager
strokes till I could collect myself somewhat; while he had a heavy
scarlet cloak on that trailed on the ground, and which he often trod
on, so that he stumbled.
He very nearly slew me during the first few minutes, for it was not
strange that, together with other matters, I should have forgotten the
art of fence: but yet, as I went on, and sometimes bounded about the
hall under the whizzing of his sword, as he rested sometimes, leaning
on it, as the point sometimes touched my head and made my eyes start
out, I remembered the old joy that I used to have, and the swy, swy,
of the sharp edge, as one gazed between one's horse's ears; moreover,
at last, one fierce swift stroke, just touching me below the throat,
tore up the skin all down my body, and fell heavy on my thigh, so that
I drew my breath in and turned white; then first, as I swung my sword
round my head, our blades met, oh! to hear that tchink again! and I
felt the notch my sword made in his, and swung out at him; but he
guarded it and returned on me; I guarded right and left, and grew
warm, and opened my mouth to shout, but knew not what to say; and our
sword points fell on the floor together: then, when we had panted
awhile, I wiped from my face the blood that had been dashed over it,
shook my sword and cut at him, then we spun round and round in a mad
waltz to the measured music of our meeting swords, and sometimes
either wounded the other somewhat but not much, till I beat down his
sword on to his head, that he fell grovelling, but not cut through.
Verily, thereupon my lips opened mightily with "Mary rings."
Then, when he had gotten to his feet, I went at him again, he
staggering back, guarding wildly; I cut at his head; he put his sword
up confusedly, so I fitted both hands to my hilt, and smote him
mightily under the arm: then his shriek mingled with my shout, made a
strange sound together; he rolled over and over, dead, as I thought.
I walked about the hall in great exultation at first, striking my
sword point on the floor every now and then, till I grew faint with
loss of blood; then I went to my enemy and stripped off some of his
clothes to bind up my wounds withal; afterwards I found in a corner
bread and wine, and I eat and drank thereof.
Then I went back to him, and looked, and a thought struck me, and I
took some of his paints and brushes, and kneeling down, painted his
face thus, with stripes of yellow and red, crossing each other at
right angles; and in each of the squares so made I put a spot of
black, after the manner of the painted letters in the prayer-books and
romances when they are ornamented.
So I stood back as painters use, folded my arms, and admired my own
handiwork. Yet there struck me as being something so utterly doleful
in the man's white face, and the blood running all about him, and
washing off the stains of paint from his face and hands, and splashed
clothes, that my heart mis- gave me, and I hoped that he was not dead;
I took some water from a vessel he had been using for his painting,
and, kneeling, washed his face.
Was it some resemblance to my father's dead face, which I had seen
when I was young, that made me pity him? I laid my hand upon his
heart, and felt it beating feebly; so I lifted him up gently, and
carried him towards a heap of straw that he seemed used to lie upon;
there I stripped him and looked to his wounds, and used leech-craft,
the memory of which God gave me for this purpose, I suppose, and
within seven days I found that he would not die.
Afterwards, as I wandered about the castle, I came to a room in one of
the upper storeys, that had still the roof on, and windows in it with
painted glass, and there I found green raiment and swords and armour,
and I clothed myself.
So when he got well I asked him what his name was, and he me, and we
both of us said, "Truly I know not." Then said I, "but we must call
each other some name, even as men call days."
"Call me Swerker," he said, "some priest I knew once had that name."
"And me Wulf," said I, "though wherefore I know not."
Then I tried to learn painting till I thought I should die, but at
last learned it through very much pain and grief.
And, as the years went on and we grew old and grey, we painted purple
pictures and green ones instead of the scarlet and yellow, so that the
walls looked altered, and always we painted God's judgments.
And we would sit in the sunset and watch them with the golden light
changing them, as we yet hoped God would change both us and our works.
Often too we would sit outside the walls and look at the trees and
sky, and the ways of the few men and women we saw; therefrom sometimes
befell adventures.
Once there went past a great funeral of some king going to his own
country, not as he had hoped to go, but stiff and colourless, spices
filling up the place of his heart.
And first went by very many knights, with long bright hauberks on,
that fell down before their knees as they rode, and they all had
tilting-helms on with the same crest, so that their faces were quite
hidden: and this crest was two hands clasped together tightly as
though they were the hands of one praying forgiveness from the one he
loves best; and the crest was wrought in gold.
Moreover, they had on over their hauberks surcoats which were half
scarlet and half purple, strewn about with golden stars.
Also long lances, that had forked knights'-pennons, half purple and
half scarlet, strewn with golden stars.
And these went by with no sound but the fall of their horse-hoofs.
And they went slowly, so slowly that we counted them all, five
thousand five hundred and fifty-five. Then went by many fair maidens
whose hair was loose and yellow, and who were all clad in green
raiment ungirded, and shod with golden shoes. These also we counted,
being five hundred; moreover some of the outermost of them, viz., one
maiden to every twenty, had long silver trumpets, which they swung out
to right and left, blowing them, and their sound was very sad.
Then many priests, and bishops, and abbots, who wore white albs and
golden copes over them; and they all sang together mournfully,
"Propter amnen Babylonis;" and these were three hundred.
After that came a great knot of the Lords, who were tilting helmets
and surcoats emblazoned with each one his own device; only each had in
his hand a small staff two feet long whereon was a pennon of scarlet
and purple. These also were three hundred.
And in the midst of these was a great car hung down to the ground with
purple, drawn by grey horses whose trappings were half scarlet, half
purple. And on this car lay the King, whose head and hands were bare;
and he had on him a surcoat, half purple and half scarlet, strewn with
golden stars. And his head rested on a tilting helmet, whose crest was
the hands of one praying passionately for forgiveness.
But his own hands lay by his side as if he had just fallen asleep.
And all about the car were little banners, half purple and half
scarlet, strewn with golden stars. Then the King, who counted but as
one, went by also.
And after him came again many maidens clad in ungirt white raiment
strewn with scarlet flowers, and their hair was loose and yellow and
their feet bare: and, except for the falling of their feet and the
rustle of the wind through their raiment, they went past quite
silently. These also were five hundred.
Then lastly came many young knights with long bright hauberks falling
over their knees as they rode, and surcoats, half scarlet and half
purple, strewn with golden stars; they bore long lances with forked
pen- nons which were half purple, half scarlet, strewn with golden
stars; their heads and their hands were bare, but they bore shields,
each one of them, which were of bright steel wrought cunningly in the
midst with that bearing of the two hands of one who prays for
forgiveness; which was done in gold. These were but five hundred.
Then they all went by winding up and up the hill roads, and, when the
last of them had departed out of our sight, we put down our heads and
wept, and I said, "Sing us one of the songs of the Hollow Land." Then
he whom I had called Swerker put his hand into his bosom, and slowly
drew out a long, long tress of black hair, and laid it on his knee and
smoothed it, weeping on it: So then I left him there and went and
armed myself, and brought armour for him.
And then came back to him and threw the armour down so that it
clanged, and said:
"O Harald, let us go!"
He did not seem surprised that I called him by the right name, but
rose and armed himself, and then be looked a good knight; so we set
forth. And in a turn of the long road we came suddenly upon a most
fair woman, clothed in scarlet, who sat and sobbed, holding her face
between her bands, and her hair was very black.
And when Harald saw her, he stood and gazed at her for long through
the bars of bis helmet, then suddenly turned, and said:
"Florian, I must stop here; do you go on to the Hollow Land.
Farewell."
"Farewell." And then I went on, never turning back, and him I never
saw more.
And so I went on, quite lonely, but happy, till I had reached the
Hollow Land.
Into which I let myself down most carefully, by the jutting rocks and
bushes and strange trailing flowers, and there lay down and fell
asleep.
FYTTE THE THIRD
And I was waked by some one singing; I felt very happy; I felt young
again; I had fair delicate raiment on, my sword was gone, and my
armour; I tried to think where I was, and could not for my happiness;
I tried to listen to the words of the song. Nothing, only an old echo
in my ears, only all manner of strange scenes from my wretched past
life before my eyes in a dim, far-off manner: then at last, slowly,
without effort, I heard what she sang.