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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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Now amid all these pleasant days
Sir Nicholas went to and fro
Strengthening the city in all ways
Lest the Great King should come thereto.
In time indeed, for on a day
His herald to the city came
With a foul message by my fay,
Whose best word was but blood and flame:
That he would sow the place with salt,
And yoke young maidens to his plough,
And take such vengeance for their fault
That no grass any more should grow
In all the land: that those that fell
By the sharp sword should fare the best:
That when the scourge had torn them well
Fierce fire should burn up the rest.
But first a great drove would he drive
Unto his country, that his men
Might see them naked, and alive
Into the fire send them then.

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That for the strangers who had come
By water, when their eyes were out,
By water would he send them home
With great stones tied their necks about.
Now we, when this thief we had heard,
Went nigh to slay him evilly;
But at the last his hair and beard
We shaved, and ugly devils three
Upon his tabard did we paint,
And sent him back, and by my head
Then was no time for us to faint,
For then were we as good as dead.
Now was it but a word and blow;
For the third day we saw the smoke
Of the burnt homesteads upward go
All round the City; and poor folk
Came hurrying in through all the gates,
Men, ancient folk, and maids weeping;
Then did we arm us with our mates,
And go to look upon the King.
Soon met we certain of his folk
Burning a village, and at first
We slew some hundred in the smoke,
And afterwards put to the worst
Another band more orderly;
And as they came on thicker then
We gat us back to the city,
Leaving but two of all our men.
And at our heels a rabble came,
At whom so well the archers shot
They scattered with no little shame,
And with our walls they meddled not:

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Whom straight, as afterwards we learned,
The Great King met as fast they fled,
And caused some of them to be burned,
Some to be scourged till they were dead.
Then soon with much folk, and great show,
And cymbals and great horns sounding,
There came one whom the maids did know
By his apparel for the King.
Who having sacrificed a bull
To some dead dog, gave straightly word
That they should take that city, full
Of living souls, and to the sword
Put all the men, and old women;
But take the younger ones alive,
And shut them, fettered, in a pen.
A fierce assault they then did give,
But nothing won but loss and harm.
So past the next day, and the next,
Nor any day without alarm.
And all day long their camp we vext
With arrows, quarrels, and big stones.
And oft they shot wild-fire forth
That burned the marrow and bones.
At last Sir Nicholas grew wrath
And swore to end the thing or die,
So the tenth night from a small gate
We issued out, we fellows only,
When moonless was the night and late.
Then to the King's tent did we go
And found him drunk amid his men
Who lay about him drunk also;
Then took we him with eight or ten

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Of his chief lords and came away.
Great joy there was in the city
Thereof, as soon as it was day;
But from the camp arose a cry,
And straight they trussed them to be gone;
Then did we open the gates wide
And set on them with sword and stone,
Arrow and spear, on every side.
Nor made they any great defence,
But ever, running here and there
Half armed, but hasted to get thence—
Fair grew the field flowers that year
Over the bones of those that came
To ravish, torture, and to slay,
To set the city on a flame
And lead the fairest maids away.

A triumph (big)

Now when from very weariness

The slaughter ceased, with bells ringing
Back went we, whom all folk did bless,
And out of hold we took the King
Who when he saw his end was near
His helpless God he loud did curse,
And grovelling his beard did tear,
And ever grew from bad to worse;
Yea, scarce a man he seemed to be
When to the market-cross he came,
And trailing hung back heavily,
And let us drag him without shame.
There was his vile head smitten off;
And yet, because he was a king,
We slew him without any scoff,
Nor paid him back with torturing

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For his vile words; and his body
Under the earth with little show
We laid, but without villainy;
Being wishful to forget all now.
For no more evil could he do,
And he was come of noble kin
Who dwelt in Greece a while ago
And were great Lords and Knights therein.
Now he being dead, there came to us
Three ancient men to pray us peace,
And that for ransom plenteous
Their folk taken we would release.
And we thereto being nothing loth,
Took of them money and much good,
And caused them swear a solemn oath,
And swore ourselves upon the Rood.
So now that ended was this strife
Like Lords and Kings we dwelt at home
And long time lived a quiet life
Nor yet had any will to roam.

River of sand lions with wings fiery well, ox over hell mouth (small)

But of the marvels of the land

The Ladies showed us many things;
As of the river of fine sand,
The lions that had eagles' wings.
The Land of Darkness too they showed,
The bottomless and fiery well;
The great brass ox that ever lowed
Over the going down to Hell.

Two pictures (big) one in hall one in garden of joyances

The time is short to tell of these,

And of the tiltings that we had,
The feasts and other joyances
Wherewith the Ladies made us glad.