Part 18

“Leta, thou art such a joy! Thou canst wish the winter-painted bough to bloom, and like the plum flowers falls the snow. Fetch thee a bowl and put the bench to table-side. Thy sire wouldst sup. Go now and watch aside the crib. Perchance thee’lt catch a glimpse o’ heaven spilled from Tina’s dream.

“Timon, man, tell me now the doings o’ the day. I do ettle for a spicey tale.”

Footnote 3:

Ettle. In this case, to have a strong desire.

(Timon) “Well, be it so then, minx. I did fell the kids at sun-wake, and thee’lt find the skins aneath the cape I cast in yonder corner there. And I did catch a peep aslaunch at mad Lady Marye, who did play the pipes most mournfully. They tell me she doth look a straining to this cot of ours. And what think ye, Leta? She doth only smile when she doth see our wee one’s curls to glint. And ever she doth speak of him who none hath seen. ’Tis strange, think ye not?”

Footnote 4:

Aslaunch. Aslant or obliquely. As we would now say, “Out of the corner of the eye.”

(Leta) “Nay, Timon, I full oft do pause and peer on high to see her at the summertide. Like a swan she bendeth, all white, amid her garden ’long the lake, and even ’tempts to come adown the path to us below. And ever at her heels the pea-fowl struts.

“She ne’er doth see my beckoning, but do I come with Tina at my breast she doth smile and wave and sway her arms a-cradle-wise.

“They tell, but breathlessly, that she doth sadly say the Stranger bideth here.”

(Timon) “I’ll pit my patch ’gainst purse o’ gold, that ‘Mad Marye’ fitteth her as surely as ‘Peaceful John’ doth fit her sire. Thee knowest ’peace’ to him is of his cutting, and ’piece’ doth patch his ripping.

“They’ve bid a feast at Christ-night, and ye shouldst see the stir! I fain would see Sir John at good dark on that eve, besmeared with boar grease and soaked with ale, his mouth adrip with filth, and every peasant there who serves his bolts shall hit. And Lady Marye setteth like a lily under frost!

“Leta, little one, thine eyes do blink like stars beshadowed in a cloudy veil. Come, bend thy knee and slip away to dream!”

(Little Leta prays) “Vast blue above, wherein the angels hide; and moon, his lamp o’ love; and cloud fleece white—art thou the wool to swaddle Him? And doth His mother bide upon a star-beam that leadeth her to thee? I bless Thy name and pray Thee keep my sire to watch full well his flock. And put a song in every coming day; my Tina’s coo, and mother’s song at eve. Goodnight, sweet night! I know He watcheth thee and me.”

(Timon) “He heareth thee, my Leta. Watch ye the star on high. See ye, it winketh knowingly. God rest ye, blest.”

(At the Castle.)

(Lady Marye) “And I the Lady Marye, o’ the lord’s estate! Jana, fetch me a goblet that I drink.”

(Jana) “Aye, lady. A wine, perchance?”

(Lady Marye) “Nay, for yester thou didst fetch me wine, and I did cast it here upon the flags. Its stain thee still canst see. Shouldst thou fetch a goblet filled to brim with crystal drops, and I should cast it here, the greedy stone would sup it up, and where be then the stain? Think ye the stone then the wiser o’ the two?

“I but loosed my fancy from its tether to gambol at its will, and they do credit me amiss. I weave not with strand upon a wheel. ’Tis not my station. Nay, I dally through the day with shuttle-cock and regal—a fitting play for yonder babe.

“Jana, peer ye to the valley there. Doth see the Stranger? He knocketh at the sill o’ yonder cot.

“I saw him when the cotter locked the sheep to tap a straying ewe who lagged, and he did enter as the cotter stepped within—unbidden, Jana, that I swear—and now he knocketh there!”

(Jana) “Nay, lady, ’tis but a barish limb that reacheth o’er the door. The cotter heedeth not, ye see.”

(Lady Marye) “I do see him now to enter, and never did he turn! Jana, look ye now! Doth still befriend a doubt?”

(Jana) “Come, lady, look! Sirrah John hath sent ye this, a posey, wrought o’ gold and scented with sweet oils.”

(Lady Marye) “Ah, Jana, ’tis a hateful sight to me—a posey I may keep! Why, the losing o’ the blossom doth but make it dear!

“Stay! I know thee’lt say ’twas proffered with his love. But, Jana, thou hast much to learn. What, then, is love? Can I then sort my tinder for its building and ply the glass to start its flame? The day is o’er full now of ones who tried the trade. Nay, Jana, only when He toucheth thee and bids thee come and putteth to thy hand His own doth love abide with thee.

“Come to the turret, then. I do find me whetted for a look within.