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Morris, William, 1834-1896

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

Yea, fair sir,
the day shall come meseemeth when folk shall call on thee to lead
the hunt after these famished wolves, and when thou dost so,
call on me to tell thee tales of their doings which shall make
thine heart hard, and thine hand heavy against them."
"Meantime," said Ralph, "what has betid to the Fellowship of the Dry Tree?
for I see that thou hast some grief on thy mind because of them."
Roger kept silence a little and then he said: "I grieve
because Hampton is no more a strong place of warriors;
two or three carles and a dozen of women dwell now in the halls
and chambers of the Scaur. Here on earth, all endeth.
God send us to find the world without end!"
"What then," said Ralph, "have they then had another great overthrow,
worse than that other?" "Nay," said Roger doggedly, "it is not so."
"But where is the Fellowship?" said Ralph. "It is scattered abroad,"
quoth Roger. "For some of the Dry Tree had no heart to leave
the women whom they had wooed in the Wheat-wearer's land:
and some, and a great many, have taken their dears to dwell in
the Burg of the Four Friths, whereas a many of the Wheat-wearers
have gone to beget children on the old bondwomen of the Burgers;
of whom there were some two thousand alive after the Burg was taken;
besides that many women also came with the carles from their own land.
"So that now a mixed folk are dwelling in the Burg, partly of
those women-thralls, partly of carles and queans come newly from
the Wheat-wearers, partly of men of our Fellowship the more part
of whom are wedded to queans of the Wheat-wearers, and partly of men,
chapmen and craftsmen and others who have drifted into the town,
having heard that there is no lack of wealth there, and many
fair women unmated.


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