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Morris, William, 1834-1896

"The Well at the World's End: a tale"

"
"Why wilt thou do this?" quoth the Lady; "Why should thralls
sit in my seat?" Said Agatha: "O, the tale is long to tell;
but I would confuse that young man's memory of thee somewhat,
if his eyes fell on thee at all when ye met e'en now,
which is to be doubted."
The Lady started up in sudden wrath, and cried out:
"She had best not be too like to me then, and strive to draw his
eyes to her, or I will have her marked for diversity betwixt us.
Take heed, take heed!"
Agatha looked softly on her and said: "My Lady. Ye fair-skinned,
open-faced women should look to it not to show yourselves angry
before men-folk. For open wrath marreth your beauty sorely.
Leave scowls and fury to the dark-browed, who can use them without
wrying their faces like a three months' baby with the colic.
Now that is my last rede as now. For methinks I can hear
the trumpets blowing for the arraying of the tourney.
Wherefore I must go to see to matters, while thou hast but to be quiet.
And to-night make much of my Lord, and bid him see me to-morrow,
and give heed to what I shall say to him. But if I meet
him without, now, as is most like, I shall bid him in to thee,
that thou mayst tell him of Joyce, and her sitting in thy seat.
Otherwise I will tell him as soon as he is set down in his place.
Sooth to say, he is little like to quarrel with either thee or me
for setting a fair woman other than thee by his side."
Therewith she lifted the tent lap and went out, stepping daintily,
and her slender body swaying like a willow branch, and came at once face
to face with the Lord of Utterbol, and bowed low and humbly before him,
though her face, unseen of him, smiled mockingly.


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