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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Roots of the Mountains; Wherein Is Told Somewhat of the Lives of the Men of Burgdale"


But Iron-face beheld him how he gazed about, and he laughed; for he
was exceeding merry that night and fared as a young man. Then he
said to his son: 'Whom seekest thou, son? is there someone lacking?'
Face-of-god reddened as one who lies unused to it, and said:
'Yea, kinsman, so it is that I was seeking the Bride my kinswoman.'
'Nay,' said Iron-face, 'call her not kinswoman: therein is ill-luck,
lest it seem that thou art to wed one too nigh thine own blood. Call
her the Bride only: to thee and to me the name is good. Well, son,
desirest thou sorely to see her?'
'Yea, yea, surely,' said Face-of-god; but his eyes went all about the
hall still, as though his mind strayed from the place and that home
of his.
Said Iron-face: 'Have patience, son, thou shalt see her anon, and
that in such guise as shall please thee.'
Therewithal came the maidens with the ewers of wine, and they filled
all horns and beakers, and then stood by the endlong tables on either
side laughing and talking with the carles and the older women; and
the hall was a fair sight to see, for the many candles burned bright
and the fire on the hearth flared up, and those maids were clad in
fair raiment, and there was none of them but was comely, and some
were fair, and some very fair: the walls also were hung with goodly
pictured cloths, and the image of the God of the Face looked down
smiling terribly from the gable-end above the high-seat.


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