The Collected Works of William Morris :: :: University of Virginia Library

But soon, the bar being past, they loosed their hold,
And said: “Thus saith by us our Lord the King:
Dwell now in peace, but yet be not so bold
To come again, or to thy lies to cling,
Lest unto thee there fall a worser thing;
And for ourselves we bid thee ever pray
For him who has been good to thee this day.”

Therewith they turned away into the town,
And still he wandered on and knew not where,
Till, stumbling at the last, he fell adown,
And looking round, beheld a brook right fair,
That ran in pools and shallows here and there,
And on the further side of it a wood,
Nigh which a lowly clay-built hovel stood.

Gazing thereat, it came into his mind
A priest dwelt there, a hermit wise and old,
Whom he had ridden oftentimes to find,
In days when first the sceptre he did hold,
And unto whom his mind he oft had told,
And had good counsel from him, though indeed
A scanty crop had sprung from that good seed.

259

Therefore he passed the brook with heavy cheer
And toward the little house went speedily,
And at the door knocked, trembling with his fear,
Because he thought: “Will he remember me?
If not, within me must there surely be
Some devil who turns everything to ill,
And makes my wretched body do his will.”

So, while such doleful things as this he thought,
There came unto the door the holy man,
Who said: “Good friend, what tidings hast thou brought?”
“Father,” he said, “knowest thou Jovinian?
Know'st thou me not, made naked, poor and wan?
Alas, O father! am I not the King,
The rightful lord of thee and everything?”

“Nay, thou art mad to tell me such a tale!”
The hermit said; “if thou seek'st soul's health here,
Right little will such words as this avail;
It were a better deed to shrive thee clear,
And take the pardon Christ has bought so dear,
Than to an ancient man such mocks to say
That would be fitter for a Christmas play.”

So to his but he got him back again,
And fell the unhappy King upon his knees,
And unto God at last did he complain,
Saying: “Lord God, what bitter things are these?
What hast thou done, that every man that sees
This wretched body, of my death is fain?
O Lord God, give me back myself again!

“E'en if therewith I needs must die straightway.
Indeed I know that since upon the earth
I first did go, I ever day by day
Have grown the worse, who was of little worth
E'en at the best time since my helpless birth.
And yet it pleased thee once to make me King,
Why hast thou made me now this wretched thing?

260

“Why am I hated so of every one?
Wilt thou not let me live my life again,
Forgetting all the deeds that I have done,
Forgetting my old name, and honours vain,
That I may cast away this lonely pain?
Yet if thou wilt not, help me in this strife,
That I may pass my little span of life

“Not made a monster by unhappiness.
What shall I say? thou mad'st me weak of will,
Thou wrapped'st me in ease and carelessness,
And yet, as some folk say, thou lovest me still;
Look down! of folly I have had my fill,
And am but now as first thou madest me,
Weak, yielding clay to take impress of thee.”

So said he weeping, and but scarce had done,
When yet again came forth that hermit old,
And said: “Alas! my master and my son,
Is this a dream my wearied eyes behold?
What doleful wonder now shall I be told,
Of that ill world that I so long have left?
What thing thy glory from thee has bereft?”

A strange surprise of joy therewith there came
To that worn heart; he said: “For some great sin
The Lord my God has brought me unto shame;
I am unknown of servants, wife and kin,
Unknown of all the lords that stand within
My father's house; nor didst thou know me more
When e'en just now I stood before thy door.

“Now since thou know'st me, surely God is good,
And will not slay me, and good hope I have
Of help from Him that died upon the rood,
And is a mighty lord to slay and save:
So now again these blind men will I brave,
If thou wilt give me of thy poorest weed,
And some rough food, the which I sorely need;

261

“Then of my sins thou straight shall shrive me clean.”
Then weeping said the holy man: “Dear lord,
What heap of woes upon thine head has been!
Enter, O King, take this rough gown and cord,
And what scant food my hovel can afford;
And tell me everything thou hast to say,
And then the High God speed thee on thy way.”

So when in coarse serge raiment he was clad,
He told him all that pride had made him think,
And showed him of his life both good and bad;
And then being houselled, did he eat and drink,
While in the wise man's heart his words did sink;
For, “God be praised!” he thought, “I am no king,
Who scarcely shall do right in anything!”

Then he made ready for the King his ass,
And bade again, God speed him on the way,
And down the road the King made haste to pass
As it was growing toward the end of day,
With sober joy for troubles passed away;
But trembling still, as onward he did ride,
Meeting few folk upon that even-tide.