University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

collapse sectionI. 
  
expand section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
  
expand sectionII. 
expand sectionIII, IV, V, VI. 
expand sectionVII. 
expand sectionIX. 
expand sectionX. 
expand sectionXII. 
expand sectionXIV. 
expand sectionXV. 
expand sectionXVI. 
expand sectionXVII. 
expand sectionXXI. 
expand sectionXXIV. 

Silent sat Kiartan, gazing on the pale
Set face of Bodli for a while, then turned
Unto his silent folk, and saw they yearned
For one chance more of life.
“Go, man,” he said,
“And tell thy king his will shall be obeyed
So far as this, that we will come to him;
But bid him guard with steel, head, breast, and limb,
Since as we come, belike, we shall not go,
And who the end of words begun can know?
Ho, friends! do on your war-gear! Fear ye not,
Since two good things to choose from have ye got:
Peace, or a famed death!”
Then with both his ears
Ringing with clink of mail and clash of spears
The messenger went forth upon his way;
And the king knew by spies, the wise ones say,
What counsel Kiartan gave his folk that eve,
And had no will in such great hands to leave
His chance of life or death. Now, armed at last,
The men of Iceland up the long street passed,
And saw few men there; wives and children stood
Before the doors to gaze, or in his hood
An elder muttered, as they passed him by,
Or sad-eyed maids looked on them longingly.
So came they to the great hall of the king,
And round about the door there stood a ring
Of tall men armed, and each a dreaded name;

296

These opened to them as anigh they came,
And then again drew close, and hemmed them in,
Nor spared they speech or laughter, and the din
Was great among them as all silently
The men of Herdholt passed the door-posts by.
Then through the hall's dusk Kiartan gazed, and saw
Small space whereby his company might draw
Nigh to the king, for there so thick men stood
That their tall spears were like a wizard's wood.
Now some way from the dais must they stand
Where sat the king, and close to his right hand
The German bishop; but no heed at all
The king gave to our folk, as down the hall
His marshal cried for silence, and the din
Being quite appeased, in a clear voice and thin
The holy man 'gan to set forth the faith;
But for these men brought nigh the gate of Death,
Hard was it now to weigh the right and wrong
Of what he said, that seemed both dull and long.
So when at last he came unto an end,
Uprose the king, and o'er the place did send
A mighty voice: “Now have ye heard the faith,
And what the High God through his servant saith;
This is my faith: what say ye to it then?”