The Well at the World's End: A Tale

by William Morris

  CHAPTER 5

  Ralph Cometh to Higham-on-the-Way

  Nought more befell Ralph to tell of till he came to the end of theDowns and saw Higham lying below him overlooked by a white castle on aknoll, and with a river lapping it about and winding on through itsfair green meadows even as Clement had told. From amidst its housesrose up three towers of churches above their leaden roofs, and highabove all, long and great, the Abbey Church; and now was the low sunglittering on its gilded vanes and the wings of the angels high uponthe battlements.

  So Ralph rode down the slopes and was brisk about it, for it wasdrawing toward sunset, and he knew not at what hour they shut theirgates. The road was steep and winding, and it was the more part of anhour ere he came to the gate, which was open, and like to be yet, formany folk were thronging in, which throng also had hindered him soonafter he came into the plain country. The gate was fair and strong,but Ralph saw no men-at-arms about it that evening. He rode into thestreet unquestioned, and therein was the throng great of people clad infair and gay attire; and presently Ralph called to mind that this wasSt. John's Eve, so that he knew that there was some feast toward.

  At last the throng was so thick that he was stayed by it; andtherewithal a religious who was beside him and thrust up against hishorse, turned to him and gave him good even, and said: "By thy weaponsand gear thou art a stranger here in our burg, Sir Knight?"

  "So it is," said Ralph.

  "And whither away?" said the monk; "hast thou some kinsman or friend inthe town?"

  "Nay," said Ralph, "I seek a good hostelry where I may abide the nightfor my money."

  The monk shook his head and said: "See ye the folk? It is holidaytime, and midsummer after haysel. Ye shall scarce get lodging outsideour house. But what then? Come thou thither straightway and haveharbour of the best, and see our prior, who loveth young and briskmen-at-arms like to thee. Lo now! the throng openeth a little; I willwalk by thy bridle and lead thee the shortest road thither."

  Ralph gainsaid him not, and they bored through the throng of the streettill they came into the market-square, which was very great and clean,paved with stones all over: tall and fair houses rose up on threesides of it, and on the fourth was the Great Church which made thosehouses seem but low: most of it was new-built; for the lord Abbot thatthen was, though he had not begun it, had taken the work up from hisforerunner and had pushed it forward all he might; for he was veryrich, and an open-handed man. Like dark gold it showed under theevening sun, and the painted and gilded imagery shone like jewels uponit.

  "Yea," said the monk, as he noted Ralph's wonder at this wonder; "amost goodly house it is, and happy shall they be that dwell there."

  Therewith he led Ralph on, turning aside through the great square.Ralph saw that there were many folk therein, though it was too big tobe thronged thick with them. Amidst of it was now a great pile of woodhung about with flowers, and hard by it a stage built up with hangingsof rich cloth on one side thereof. He asked the monk what this mightmean, and he told him the wood was for the Midsummer bale-fire, and thestage for the show that should come thereafter. So the brother ledRalph down a lane to the south of the great west door, and along theside of the minster and so came to the Abbey gate, and there was Ralphwell greeted, and had all things given him which were due to a goodknight; and then was he brought into the Guest-hall, a very fairchamber, which was now full of men of all degrees. He was shown to aseat on the dais within two of the subprior's, and beside him sat anhonourable lord, a vassal of St. Mary's. So was supper served well andabundantly: the meat and drink was of the best, and the vessel and allthe plenishing was as good as might be; and the walls of that chamberwere hung with noble arras-cloth picturing the Pilgrimage of the Soulof Man.

  Every man there who spoke with Ralph, and they were many, was exceedingcourteous to him; and he heard much talk about him of the wealth of thelands of St. Mary's at Higham, and how it was flourishing; and of theAbbot how mighty he was, so that he might do what he would, and thathis will was to help and to give, and be blithe with all men: and folktold of turmoil and war in other lands, and praised the peace ofHigham-on-the-Way.

  Ralph listened to all this, and smiled, and said to himself that toanother man this might well be the end of his journey for that time;but for him all this peace and well-being was not enough; for though itwere a richer land than Upmeads, yet to the peace and the quiet he waswell used, and he had come forth not for the winning of fatter peace,but to try what new thing his youth and his might and his high hope andhis good hap might accomplish.

  So when the supper was over, and the wine and spices had been brought,the Guest-hall began to thin somewhat, and the brother who had broughtRalph thither came to him and said:

  "Fair lord, it were nowise ill if ye went forth, as others of ourguests have done, to see the deeds of Midsummer Eve that shall be donein the great square in honour of Holy John; for our manner therein atHigham has been much thought of. Look my son!"

  He pointed to the windows of the hall therewith, and lo! they grewyellow and bright with some fire without, as if a new fiery day hadbeen born out of the dusk of the summer night; for the light that shonethrough the windows out-did the candle-light in the hall. Ralphstarted thereat and laid his right hand to the place of his sword,which indeed he had left with the chamberlain; but the monk laughed andsaid: "Fear nothing, lord; there is no foeman in Higham: come now,lest thou be belated of the show."

  So he led Ralph forth, and into the square, where there was a spaceappointed for the brethren and their guests to see the plays; and thesquare was now so full of folk that it seemed like as if that therewere no one man in the streets which were erewhile so thronged.

  There were rows of men-at-arms in bright armour also to keep the folkin their places, like as hurdles pen the sheep up; howbeit they werenowise rough with folk, but humble and courteous. Many and many werethe torches and cressets burning steadily in the calm air, so that, asaforesaid, night was turned into day. But on the scaffold aforesaidwere standing bright and gay figures, whose names or what they wereRalph had no time to ask.

  Now the bells began to clash from the great tower of the minster, andin a little while they had clashed themselves into order and rang clearand tuneably for a space; and while they were ringing, lo! thosegay-clad people departed from the scaffold, and a canvas painted like amountain-side, rocky and with caves therein, was drawn up at the backof it. Then came thereon one clad like a king holding a fair maiden bythe hand, and with him was a dame richly clad and with a crown on herhead. So these two kissed the maiden, and lamented over her, and wenttheir ways, and the maiden left alone sat down upon a rock and coveredup her face and wept; and while Ralph wondered what this might mean, orwhat grieved the maiden, there came creeping, as it were from out of acranny of the rocks, a worm huge-headed and covered over with scalesthat glittered in the torch-light. Then Ralph sprang up in his place,for he feared for the maiden that the worm would devour her: but themonk who sat by him pulled him down by the skirt, and laughed and said:"Sit still, lord! for the champion also has been provided."

  Then Ralph sat down again somewhat abashed and looked on; yet was hisheart in his mouth the while. And so while the maiden stood as oneastonied before the worm, who gaped upon her with wide open mouth,there came forth from a cleft in the rocks a goodly knight who boresilver, a red cross; and he had his sword in his hand, and he fell uponthe worm to smite him; and the worm ramped up against him, and therewas battle betwixt them, while the maiden knelt anigh with her handsclasped together.

  Then Ralph knew that this was a play of the fight of St. George withthe worm; so he sat silent till the champion had smitten off the worm'shead and had come to the maiden and kissed and embraced her, and shownher the grisly head. Then presently came many folk on to the scaffold,to wit, the king and queen who were the father and mother of themaiden, and a bishop clad in very fair vestments, and knights withal;and they stood about St. George and the maiden, and with t
hem wereminstrels who fell to playing upon harps and fiddles; while other somefell to singing a sweet song in honour of St. George, and the maidendelivered.

  So when it was all done, the monk said: "This play is set forth by themen-at-arms of our lord Abbot, who have great devotion toward St.George, and he is their friend and their good lord. But hereafter willbe other plays, of wild men and their feasting in the woods in theGolden Age of the world; and that is done by the scribes and thelimners. And after that will be a pageant of St. Agnes ordered by theclothiers and the webbers, which be both many and deft in this goodtown. Albeit thou art a young man and hast ridden far to-day belike,and mayhappen thou wilt not be able to endure it: so it may be well tobring thee out of this throng straightway. Moreover I have bethoughtme, that there is much of what is presently to come which we shall seebetter from the minster roof, or even it may be from the tower: wiltthou come then?"

  Ralph had liefer have sat there and seen all the plays to the end, forthey seemed to him exceeding fair, and like to ravish the soul from thebody; howbeit, being shamefaced, he knew not how to gainsay thebrother, who took him by the hand, and led him through the press to thewest front of the minster, where on the north side was a little door ina nook. So they went up a stair therein a good way till they came intoa gallery over the western door; and looking forth thence Ralph deemedthat he could have seen a long way had daylight been, for it was higherthan the tops of the highest houses.

  So there they abode a space looking down on the square and its throng,and the bells, which had been ringing when they came up, now ceased awhile. But presently there arose great shouts and clamour amongst thefolk below, and they could see men with torches drawing near to thepile of wood, and then all of a sudden shot up from it a great spiringflame, and all the people shouted together, while the bells broke outagain over their heads.

  Then the brother pointed aloof with his finger and said: "Lo you! fairlord, how bale speaks to bale all along the headlands of thedown-country, and below there in the thorps by the river!"

  Forsooth Ralph saw fire after fire break out to the westward; and thebrother said: "And if we stood over the high altar and looked east, yewould see more of such fires and many more; and all these bales arepiled up and lighted by vassals and villeins of my lord Abbot: nowto-night they are but mere Midsummer bale-fires; but doubt ye not thatif there came war into the land each one of these bales would mean atleast a half-score of stout men, archers and men-at-arms, all ready toserve their lord at all adventure. All this the tyrants round about,that hate holy Church and oppress the poor, know full well; thereforewe live in peace in these lands."

  Ralph hearkened, but said nought; for amidst all this flashing of fireand flame, and the crying out of folk, and the measured clash of thebells so near him, his thought was confused, and he had no words readyto hand. But the monk turned from the parapet and looked him full inthe face and said to him:

  "Thou art a fair young man, and strong, and of gentle blood as I deem;and thou seemest to me to have the lucky look in thine eyes: now I tellthee that if thou wert to take service with my lord thou shouldestnever rue it. Yea, why shouldest thou not wax in his service, andbecome his Captain of Captains, which is an office meet for kings?"

  Ralph looked on him, but answered nought, for he could not gather histhoughts for an answer; and the brother said: "Think of it, I bid thee,fair young lord; and be sure that nowhere shalt thou have a betterlivelihood, not even wert thou a king's son; for the children of mylord Abbot are such that none dareth to do them any displeasure;neither is any overlord as good as is Holy Church."

  "Yea," said Ralph, "doubtless thou sayest sooth; yet I wot not that Iam come forth to seek a master."

  Said the brother: "Nay, do but see the lord Abbot, as thou mayst doto-morrow, if thou wilt."

  "I would have his blessing," said Ralph.

  "No less shalt thou have," said the brother; "but look you down yonder;for I can see tokens that my lord is even now coming forth."

  Ralph looked down and beheld the folk parting to right and left, and alane made amidst the throng, guarded by men-at-arms mingled with thecross-bearers and brethren; and the sound of trumpets blared forth overthe noises of the throng.

  "If the lord Abbot cometh," said Ralph, "I were fain of his blessingto-night before I sleep: so go we down straightway that I may kneelbefore him with the rest."

  "What!" said the monk, "Wilt thou, my lord, kneel amongst all theseburgesses and vavassors when thou mightest see the Abbot in his ownchamber face to face alone with him?"

  "Father," said Ralph, "I am no great man, and I must needs departbetimes to-morrow; for I perceive that here are things too mighty andover-mastering for such as I be."

  "Well," said the monk, "yet mayst thou come back again; so at present Iwill make no more words about it."

  So they went down, and came out amidst the throng, above which the balestill flared high, making the summer night as light as day. Thebrother made way for Ralph, so that they stood in the front row offolk: they had not been there one minute ere they heard the sound ofthe brethren singing, and the Abbot came forth out of the lane thatwent down to the gate. Then all folk went down upon their knees, andthus abode him. Right so Ralph deemed that he felt some one pull hissleeve, but in such a throng that was nought of a wonder; howbeit, heturned and looked to his left, whence came the tug, and saw kneelingbeside him a tall man-at-arms, who bore a sallet on his head in suchwise that it covered all his face save the point of his chin. ThenRalph bethought him of the man of the leafless tree, and he looked tosee what armoury the man bore on his coat; but he had nothing save aloose frock of white linen over his hauberk. Nevertheless, he heard avoice in his ear, which said, "The second time!" whereon he deemed thatit was verily that same man: yet had he nought to do to lay hold onhim, and he might not speak with him, for even therewith came the Abbotin garments all of gold, going a-foot under a canopy of baudekyn, withthe precious mitre on his head, and the crozier borne before him, as ifhe had been a patriarch: for he was an exceeding mighty lord.

  Ralph looked hard on him as he passed by, blessing the folk withupraised hand; and he saw that he was a tall spare man, clean-shaven,and thin-faced; but no old man, belike scarce of fifty winters. Ralphcaught his eye, and he smiled on the goodly young man so kindly, thatfor a moment Ralph deemed that he would dwell in St. Mary's House for alittle while; for, thought he, if my father, or Nicholas, hear of metherein, they must even let me alone to abide here.

  Therewith the Abbot went forth to his place, and sat him down under agoodly cloth of estate, and folk stood up again; but when Ralph lookedfor the man in the sallet he could see nought of him. Now when theAbbot was set down, men made a clear ring round about the bale, andthere came into the said ring twelve young men, each clad in noughtsave a goat-skin, and with garlands of leaves and flowers about theirmiddles: they had with them a wheel done about with straw and hemppayed with pitch and brimstone. They set fire to the same, and thentrundled it blazing round about the bale twelve times. Then came tothem twelve damsels clad in such-like guise as the young men: thenboth bands, the young men and the maidens, drew near to the bale, whichwas now burning low, and stood about it, and joined hands, and sodanced round it a while, and meantime the fiddles played an uncouthtune merrily: then they sundered, and each couple of men and maidsleapt backward and forward over the fire; and when they had all leapt,came forward men with buckets of water which they cast over the dancerstill it ran down them in streams. Then was all the throng mingledtogether, and folk trod the embers of the bale under foot, andscattered them hither and thither all over the square.

  All this while men were going about with pitchers of wine and ale, andother good drinks; and every man drank freely what he would, and therewas the greatest game and joyance.

  But now was Ralph exceeding weary, and he said: "Father, mightest thoulead me out of this throng, and show me some lair where I may sleep inpeace, I would thank thee blithely."

>   As he spake there sounded a great horn over the square, and the Abbotrose in his place and blessed all the people once more. Then said themonk:

  "Come then, fair field-lord, now shalt thou have thy will of bed." Andhe laughed therewith, and drew Ralph out of the throng and brought himinto the Abbey, and into a fair little chamber, on the wall whereof waspictured St. Christopher, and St. Julian the lord and friend ofwayfarers. Then he brought Ralph the wine and spices, and gave himgood-night, and went his ways.

  As Ralph put the raiment from off him he said to himself a long dayforsooth, so long that I should have thought no day could have held allthat has befallen me. So many strange things have I seen, that surelymy dreams shall be full of them; for even now I seem to see them,though I waken.

  So he lay down in his bed and slept, and dreamed that he was fishingwith an angle in a deep of Upmeads Water; and he caught many fish; butafter a while whatsoever he caught was but of gilded paper stuffed withwool, and at last the water itself was gone, and he was casting hisangle on to a dry road. Therewith he awoke and saw that day wasdawning, and heard the minster clock strike three, and heard thethrushes singing their first song in the Prior's garden. Then heturned about and slept, and dreamed no more till he woke up in thebright sunny morning.