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 1908 
 
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TALES 
 
 OF A 
 
 WAYSIDE INN 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 
 
 WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 
 
 BY 
 
 M. A. EATON, B.A* 
 
 ^ EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 BOSTON 
 New York Chicago San Francisco 
 
jUBRARYofCONSR.'ESS] 
 Two Oopias Retwy*- 
 
 rEB 3 1^08 
 
 f^ 2 
 
 ^3f 
 
 Copyright, 1908 
 
 By 
 
 EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow belongs to that small 
 band of truly cultivated men of letters, of whom America 
 may justly be proud. From his early youth he was a 
 scholar and his keenest pleasure was in hard study or 
 in deUghtful musings over his books. 
 
 Longfellow was born in Portland, Maine, on the 
 twenty-seventh of February, 1807. He early showed 
 a remarkable power of acquiring languages and was 
 ready to enter Bowdoin College at fourteen. Here he 
 devoted himself chiefly to languages and literary studies. 
 A foreign tongue, once mastered, was always at his 
 command, even though he had not used it for years. 
 "I cannot imagine," he once said, late in Hfe, "what it 
 would be to take up a language and try to master it at 
 this period of my life. I cannot remember how or 
 when I learned any of them — to-night I have been 
 speaking German, without finding the least difficulty." 
 
 During these four years in college he wrote his first 
 poems, many of which were printed in The United States 
 Literary Gazette. The first poem he ever wrote was 
 called The Battle of LovelVs Pond, and was published in 
 a Portland newspaper. That same evening the young 
 poet was invited to the house of the Chief Justice to 
 meet his son, just returned from Harvard. In the 
 course of the evening, the judge turned to his son and 
 said, "Did you see a poem in to-day's paper upon the 
 Battle of Lovell's Pond?" "No, sir," said the boy, 
 "I did not." "Well," responded his father, "it was a 
 very stiff production. Get your own poem on the sub- 
 ject and I will read it to the company." Meanwhile 
 Longfellow sat very quietly in the corner. 
 
 In spite of this adverse criticism, the young author 
 had determined upon a literary career, and when his 
 
 3 
 
4 INTRODUCTION 
 
 college life was over, he persuaded his father to let him 
 spend another year of study at Harvard, instead of be- 
 ginning the study of law, as the latter wished. 
 
 Fortunately for him, a new professorship of languages 
 had recently been established at Bowdoin College and 
 the position was offered to Longfellow, with the proposal 
 that he should spend a year abroad in study before 
 commencing his new duties. 
 
 The offer was gladly accepted and Longfellow spent 
 more than three years in France, Spain, Italy, Germany, 
 Holland and England, before he finally settled at Bow- 
 doin, at the age of twenty-two. Here he remained for 
 two years, and married the daughter of Judge Potter 
 of Portland. 
 
 At the end of that time he was appointed to the pro- 
 fessorship of modern languages at Harvard, and again 
 went abroad to become more familiar with German. 
 Here he suffered a terrible sorrow, for his beautiful 
 young wife died at Rotterdam, and he was left to come 
 home alone, and enter upon a solitary life at Cambridge. 
 
 He chose the fine old Craigie House as his residence 
 and soon gathered about him a delightful company of 
 friends. His life was full of work and everything from 
 his pen was eagerly welcomed, but still he felt keenly 
 the need of a home and so, after many years of loneli- 
 ness, he married Frances Appleton, a very beautiful and 
 cultivated woman. 
 
 Craigie House soon became noted as a delightful centre 
 of hospitality, not only for the many friends at home, 
 but for all the noted foreigners who visited this country. 
 There were books everywhere and, although no catalogue 
 was ever made of this library, the owner was never at a 
 loss where to look for a needed volume. But it was the 
 poet himself that attracted people and not the books, 
 the home, nor the delightful guests who assembled there. 
 
 "His dignity and grace," says Mr. Winter, "and the 
 beautiful refinement of his countenance, together with 
 his perfect taste in dress and the exquisite simplicity of 
 his manners, made him the absolute ideal of what a 
 poet should be. His voice, too, was soft, sweet and 
 
INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 musical, and, like his face, it had the innate charm of 
 tranquillity. His eyes were blue-gray, very bright and 
 brave, changeable under the influence of emotion . . . 
 but mostly calm, grave, attentive and gentle. The 
 habitual expression of his face was not that of sadness, 
 and yet it was pensive. Perhaps it may best be described 
 as that of serious and tender thoughtfulness. He had 
 conquered his own sorrows thus far; but the sorrows 
 of others threw their shadow over him. . . . There 
 was a strange touch of sorrowful majesty and prophetic 
 fortitude commingled with the composure and kindness 
 of his features. . . . His spontaneous desire, the 
 natural instinct of his great heart, was to be helpful — 
 to lift up the lowly, to strengthen the weak, to bring out 
 the best in every person, to dry every tear, and make 
 every pathway smooth." 
 
 Here in Cambridge the poet passed the rest of his 
 life, although he visited Europe again, but after the death 
 of his wife he aged rapidly and he resigned his professor- 
 ship in 1854. His chief love was for music and little 
 children, and he had many small friends. 
 
 One day a little boy, who often came to see him, 
 after examining the great library carefully, asked: 
 "Have you got Jack the Giant- Killer?'' 
 
 Longfellow was obliged to confess that he had not. 
 The little boy looked very sorry and presently went 
 away; but next morning he returned and gravely handed 
 the poet two cents with which he was to buy a Jack the 
 Giant-Killer for his own. 
 
 In March, 1882, the poet passed quietly away, leaving 
 the legacy of a beautiful, scholarly life, which is even 
 more to be treasured than his poetry. 
 
 Longfellow's principal works, with the dates of their 
 publication, are as follows: Translation of the Spanish 
 Poem by Don Jorge Manrique on the Death of His 
 Father, 1833: Outre Mer, 1835; Hyperion, and Voices 
 of the Night, 1841; Ballads and Other Poems, 1842; 
 Poems on Slavery, 1843; The Spanish Student, 1845; 
 The Poets and Poetry of Europe, and The Belfry of 
 Bruges, 1847; Evangeline, 1848; Kavanagh, a tale, 
 
6 INTRODUCTION 
 
 1849; The Seaside and the Fireside, and The Golden 
 Legend, 185 1; The Song of Hiawatha, 1855; Miles 
 Standish, 1858; Tales 0} a Wayside Inn, 1863; Flower 
 de Luce, 1866; Translation of Dante, 1867-70; New 
 England Tragedies, 1869; The Divine Tragedy, 1871; 
 Three Books oj Song, 1872; The Hanging of the Crane, 
 1874; Keramos, 1878. 
 
 PLAN OF THE TALES 
 
 These tales are supposed to be told by a company of 
 people who find themselves assembled one night at the 
 old "Red Horse Inn" at Sudbury, a village not far 
 from Boston. The company consisted of Lyman Howe, 
 the innkeeper, Professor Luigi Monti, a Sicilian author 
 and lecturer, who was a personal friend of the poet; 
 Henry W. Wales, the student; Ole Bull, a Norwegian 
 violinist who spent some time in America, and who lived 
 in Cambridge, as did Longfellow; Thomas William Par- 
 sons, a poet, chiefly known for his translation of Dante; 
 Israel Edrelu, a Jewish merchant; and Daniel Treadwell, 
 a professor of theology in Harvard. 
 
 The plan of telling stories in this way is familiar and 
 has been used by authors from Chaucer down to Tenny- 
 son and Irving. Longfellow has varied his tales greatly 
 both in subject matter and metre. None of the stories 
 are original, save the "Birds of Killingworth," but have 
 been drawn from various sources as explained in the notes. 
 
 "In these tales," declares one enthusiastic critic, 
 "the poet felt himself in his element: the music falls 
 true and perfect, and with the power of all the pedals, 
 and stops at the musician's command." 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 THE WAYSIDE INN 
 
 One Autumn night, in Sudbury town, 
 
 Across the meadows bare and brown, 
 
 The windows of the wayside inn 
 
 Gleamed red with fire-hght through the leaves 
 
 Of woodbine, hanging from the eaves, 5 
 
 Their crimson curtains rent and thin. 
 
 As ancient is this hostelry 
 
 As any in the land may be. 
 
 Built in the old. Colonial day, 
 
 When men lived in a grander way, 10 
 
 With ampler hospitality; 
 
 A kind of old Hobgobhn Hall, 
 
 Now somewhat fallen to decay, 
 
 With weather-stains upon ihe wall, 
 
 And stairways worn, and crazy doors, 15 
 
 And creaking and uneven floors, 
 
 And chimneys huge, and tiled and tall. 
 
 A region of repose it seems, 
 
 A place of slumber and of dreams, 
 
8 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Remote among the wooded hills! 20 
 
 For there no noisy railway speeds, 
 
 Its torch-race scattering smoke and gleeds; 
 
 But noon and night, the panting teams 
 
 Stop under the great oaks, that throw 
 
 Tangles of Hght and shade below, 25 
 
 On roofs and doors and wind-ow-sills. 
 
 Across the road the barns display 
 
 Their lines of stalls, their mows of hay, 
 
 Through the wide doors the breezes blow, 
 
 The wattled cocks strut to and fro, 30 
 
 And, half effaced by rain and shine. 
 
 The Red Horse prances on the sign. 
 
 Round this old-fashioned, quaint abode 
 
 Deep silence reigned, save when a gust 
 
 Went rushing down the county road, 35 
 
 And skeletons of leaves, and dust, 
 
 A moment quickened by its breath. 
 
 Shuddered and danced their dance of death, 
 
 And through the ancient oaks o'erhead 
 
 Mysterious voices moaned and fled. /o 
 
 But from the parlor of the inn 
 
 A pleasant murmur smote the ear, 
 
 Like water rushing through a weir; 
 
 Oft interrupted by the din 
 
 Of laughter and of loud applause, 45 
 
 And, in each intervening pause, 
 
 The music hi a violin. 
 
 The fire-light, shedding over all 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 9 
 
 The splendor of its ruddy glow, 
 
 Filled the whole parlor large and low; 50 
 
 It gleamed on wainscot and on wall, 
 
 It touched with more than wonted grace 
 
 Fair Princess Mary's pictured face; 
 
 It bronzed the rafters overhead, 
 
 On the old spinet's ivory keys 55 
 
 It played inaudible melodies, 
 
 It crowned the sombre clock with flame, 
 
 The hands, the hours, the maker's name, 
 
 And painted with a livelier red 
 
 The Landlord's coat-of-arms again; 60 
 
 And, flashing on the window-pane. 
 
 Emblazoned with its light and shade 
 
 The jovial rhymes, that still remain, 
 
 Writ near a century ago. 
 
 By the great Major Molineaux, 65 
 
 Whom Hawthorne has immortal made. 
 
 Before the blazing lire of wood 
 
 Erect the rapt musician stood; 
 
 And ever and anon he bent 
 
 His head upon his instrument, 70 
 
 And seemed to listen, till he caught 
 
 Confessions of its secret thought — 
 
 The joy, the triumph, the lament. 
 
 The exultation and the pain; 
 
 Then, by the magic of his art, 75 
 
 He soothed the throbbings of its heart, 
 
 And lulled it into peace again. 
 
lo TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Around the fireside at their ease 
 
 There sat a group of friends, entranced 
 
 With the delicious melodies; 80 
 
 Who from the far-off noisy j;own 
 
 Had to the wayside inn come down, 
 
 To rest beneath its old oak-trges. 
 
 The fire-Hght on their faces glanced, 
 
 Their shadows on the wainscot danced, 85 
 
 And, though of different lands and speech, 
 
 Each had his tale to tell, and each 
 
 Was anxious to be pleased and please. 
 
 And while the sweet musician plays. 
 
 Let me in outline sketch them all, 90 
 
 Perchance uncouthly as the blaze 
 
 With its uncertain touch portrays 
 
 Their shadowy semblance on the wall. 
 
 But first the Landlord will I trace; 
 
 Grave in his aspect and attire; 95 
 
 A man of ancient pedigree, 
 
 A Justice of the Peace was he, 
 
 Known in all Sudbury as "The Squire." 
 
 Proud was he of his name and race, 
 
 Of old Sir William and Sir Hugh, 100 
 
 And in the parlor, full in view, 
 
 His coat-of-arms, w^ell framed and glazed. 
 
 Upon the wall in colors blazed; 
 
 He beareth gules upon his shield, 
 
 A chevron argent in the field, 105 
 
 With three wolf's heads, and for the crest 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN ii 
 
 A Wj^ern part-per-pale addressed 
 
 Upon a helmet barred; below 
 
 The scroll reads, "By the name of Howe." 
 
 And over this, no longer bright, no 
 
 Though glimmering with a latent light, 
 
 Was hung the sword his grandsire bore, 
 
 In the rebellious days of yore, 
 
 Down there at Concord in the fight. 
 
 A youth was there, of quiet ways, 1 1 5 
 
 A Student of old books and days. 
 
 To whom all tongues and lands were known. 
 
 And yet a lover of his own; 
 
 With many a social virtue graced. 
 
 And yet a friend of solitude; 120 
 
 A man of such a genial mood 
 
 The heart of all things he embraced, 
 
 And yet of such fastidious taste, 
 
 He never found the best too good. 
 
 Books were his passion and delight, 125 
 
 And in his upper room at home 
 
 Stood many a rare and sumptuous tome, 
 
 In vellum bound, with gold bedight, 
 
 Great volumes garmented in white. 
 
 Recalling Florence, Pisa, Rome. 130 
 
 He loved the twilight that surrounds 
 
 The border- land of old romance; 
 
 Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance, •, 
 
 And banner waves, and trumpet sounds. 
 
 And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, 135 
 
12 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 And mighty warriors sweep along, 
 
 Magnified by the purple mist, 
 
 The dusk of centuries and of song. 
 
 The chronicles of Charlemagne, 
 
 Of Merlin and the Mort d'Arthure, 140 
 
 Mingled together in his brain 
 
 With tales of Flores and Blanchefleur, 
 
 Sir Ferumbras, Sir Eglamour, 
 
 Sir Launcelot, Sir Morgadour, 
 
 Sir Guy, Sir Bevis, Sir Gawain. 145 
 
 A young Sicilian, too, was there; — 
 
 In sight of Etna born and bred. 
 
 Some breath of its volcanic air 
 
 Was glowing in his heart and brain, 
 
 And, being rebellious to his liege, 150 
 
 After Palermo's fatal siege. 
 
 Across the western seas he fled. 
 
 In good King Bomba's happy reign. 
 
 His face was like a summer night, 
 
 All flooded with a dusky light; 155 
 
 His hands were small; his teeth shone white 
 
 As sea-shells, when he smiled or spoke; 
 
 His sinews supple and strong as oak; 
 
 Clean shaven was he as a priest. 
 
 Who at the mass on Sunday sings, 160 
 
 Save that upon his upper lip 
 
 His beard, a good palm's length at least, 
 
 Level and pointed at the tip. 
 
 Shot sideways, like a swallow's wings. 
 
 1 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 13 
 
 The poets read he o'er and o'er, 165 
 
 And most of all the Immortal Four 
 
 Of Italy; and next to those, 
 
 The story-telling bard of prose. 
 
 Who wrote the joyous Tuscan tales 
 
 Of the Decameron, that make 170 
 
 Fiesole's green hills and vales 
 
 Remembered for Boccaccio's sake. 
 
 Much, too, of music was his thought; 
 
 The melodies and measures fraught 
 
 With sunshine and the open air, 175 
 
 Of vineyards and the singing sea * 
 
 Of his beloved Sicily; 
 
 And much it pleased him to peruse 
 
 The songs of the Sicilian muse — 
 
 Bucolic songs by Meli sung 180 
 
 In the familiar peasant tongue, 
 
 That made men say, "Behold! once more 
 
 The pitying gods to earth restore 
 
 Theocritus of Syracuse!" 
 
 A Spanish Jew from Alicant 185 
 
 With aspect grand and grave was there; 
 
 Vender of silks and fabrics rare, 
 
 And attar of rose from the Levant. 
 
 Like an old Patriarch he appeared, 
 
 Abraham or Isaac, or at least 190 
 
 Some later Prophet or High-Priest; 
 
 With lustrous eyes, and olive skin, 
 
 And, wildly tossed from cheeks and chin, 
 
14 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 The tumbling cataract of his beard. 
 
 His garments breathed a spicy scent 195 
 
 Of cinnamon and sandal blent, 
 
 Like the soft aromatic gales 
 
 That meet the mariner, who sails 
 
 Through the Moluccas, and the seas 
 
 That wash the shores of Celebes. 200 
 
 All stories that recorded are 
 
 By Pierre Alphonse he knew by heart, 
 
 And it was rumored he could say 
 
 The parables of Sandabar, 
 
 And all the Fables of Pilpay, 205 
 
 Or if not all, the greater parti 
 
 Well versed was he in Hebrew books, 
 
 Talmud andTargum, and the lore 
 
 Of Kabala; and evermore 
 
 There was a mystery in his looks; 210 
 
 His eyes seemed gazing far away. 
 
 As if in vision or in trance 
 
 He heard the solemn sackbut play. 
 
 And saw the Jewish maidens dance. 
 
 A Theologian, from the school 215 
 
 Of Cambridge on the Charles, was there; 
 
 Skilful ahke with tongue and pen. 
 
 He preached to all men everywhere 
 
 The Gospel of the Golden Rule, 
 
 The New Commandment given to men, 220 
 
 Thinking the deed, and not the creed, 
 
 Would help us in Qur utmost need. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 15 
 
 With reverent feet the earth he trod, 
 
 Nor banished nature from his plan, 
 
 But studied still with deep research 225 
 
 To build the Universal Church, 
 
 Lofty as is the love of God, 
 
 And ample as the wants of man. 
 
 A poet, too, was there, whose verse 
 
 Was tender, musical, and terse; 230 
 
 The inspiration, the delight, 
 
 The gleam, the glory, the swift flight, 
 
 Of thoughts so sudden, that they seem 
 
 The revelations of a dream, 
 
 All these were his; but with them came 235 
 
 No envy of another's fame; 
 
 He did not find his sleep less sweet 
 
 For music in some neighboring street. 
 
 Nor rusthng hear in every breeze 
 
 The laurels of Miltiades. 240 
 
 Honor and blessings on his head 
 
 While living, good report when dead, 
 
 Who, not too eager for renown, 
 
 Accepts, but does not clutch, the crownl 
 
 Last the Musician, as he stood 245 
 
 Illumined by that fire of wood; 
 
 Fair-haired, blue-eyed, his aspect blithe, 
 
 His figure tall and straight and lithe, 
 
 And every feature of his face 
 
 ReveaUng his Norwegian racej 250 
 
1 6 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 A radiance, streaming from within, 
 
 Around his eyes and forehead beamed, 
 
 The Angel with the vioUn, 
 
 Painted by Raphael, he seemed. 
 
 He lived in that ideal world 255 
 
 Whose language is not speech, but song; 
 
 Around him evermore the throng 
 
 Of elves and sprites their dances whirled; 
 
 The Stromkarl sang, the cataract hurled 
 
 Its headlong waters from the height; 260 
 
 And mingled in the wild delight 
 
 The scream of sea-birds in their flight, 
 
 The rumor of the forest trees. 
 
 The plunge of the implacable seas, 
 
 The tumult of the wind at night, 265 
 
 Voices of eld, like trumpets blowing. 
 
 Old ballads, and wild melodies 
 
 Through mist and darkness pouring forth, 
 
 Like Elivagar's river flowing 
 
 Out of the glaciers of the North. 270 
 
 The instrument on which he played 
 
 Was in Cremona's workshops made. 
 
 By a great master of the past, 
 
 Ere yet was lost the art divine; 
 
 Fashioned of maple and of pine, 275 
 
 That in Tyrolian forests vast 
 
 Had rocked and wrestled with the blast: 
 
 Exquisite was it in design, 
 
 Perfect in each minutest part. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 17 
 
 A marvel of the lutist's art; 280 
 
 And in its hollow chamber, thus, 
 The maker from whose hands it came 
 Had written his unrivalled name — 
 "Antonius Stradivarius." 
 
 And when he played, the atmosphere 285 
 
 Was filled with magic, and the ear 
 
 Caught echoes of that Harp of Gold, 
 
 Whose music had so weird a sound. 
 
 The hunted stag forgot to bound, 
 
 The leaping rivulet backward rolled, 290 
 
 The birds come down from bush and tree, 
 
 The dead came from beneath the sea. 
 
 The maiden to the harper's knee! 
 
 The music ceased; the applause was loud, 
 
 The pleased musician smiled and bowed; 295 
 
 The wood-fire clapped its hands of flame, 
 
 The shadows on the wainscot stirred. 
 
 And from the harpsichord there came 
 
 A ghostly murmur of acclaim, 
 
 A sound like that sent down at night 300 
 
 By birds of passage in their flight, 
 
 From the remotest distance heard. 
 
 Then silence followed; then began 
 
 A clamor for the Landlord's tale — 
 
 The story promised them of old, 305 
 
 They said, but always left untold; 
 
 And he, although a bashful man, 
 
i8 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 And all his courage seemed to fail, 
 
 Finding excuse of no avail, 
 
 Yielded; and thus the story ran. 310 
 
 1 
 
 THE LANDLORD'S TALE 
 
 PAUL REVERE'S ride 
 
 Listen, my children, and you shall hear 
 
 Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, 
 
 On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; 
 
 Hardly a man is now alive 
 
 Who remembers that famous day and year. 
 
 He said to his friend, "If the British march 
 By land or sea from the town to-night. 
 Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch 
 Of the North Church tower as a signal light 
 One, if by land, and two, if by sea; 
 And I on the opposite shore will be, 
 Ready to ride and spread the alarm 
 Through every Middlesex village and farm, 
 For the country-folk to be up and to arm." 
 
 Then he said, "Good-night!" and with mufiled oar 
 
 Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, 16 
 
 Just as the moon rose over the bay. 
 
 Where swinging wide at her moorings lay 
 
 The Somerset, British man-of-war; 
 
 A phantom ship, with each mast and spar 20 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 19 
 
 Across the moon like a prison bar, 
 
 And a huge black hulk, that was magnified 
 
 By its own reflection in the tide. 
 
 Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street, 
 
 Wanders and watches with eager ears, 25 
 
 Till in the silence around him he hears 
 
 The muster of men at the barrack door, 
 
 The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, 
 
 And the measured tread of the grenadiers. 
 
 Marching down to their boats on the shore. 30 
 
 Then he climbed to the towxr of the church, 
 
 Up the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread. 
 
 To the belfry-chamber overhead, 
 
 And startled the pigeons from their perch 
 
 On the sombre rafters, that round him made 35 
 
 Masses and moving shapes of shade — 
 
 Up the trembling ladder, steep and tall, 
 
 To the highest window in the wall. 
 
 Where he paused to Usten and look down 
 
 A moment on the roofs of the town, 40 
 
 And the moonlight flowing over all. 
 
 Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead. 
 
 In their night-encampment on the hill, 
 
 Wrapped in silence so deep and still 
 
 That he could hear, Hke a sentinel's tread, 45 
 
 The watchful night- wind, as it went 
 
 Creeping along from tent to tent. 
 
 And seeming to whisper, "All is well!" 
 
20 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 A moment only he feels the spell 
 
 Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread 50 
 
 Of the lonely belfry and the dead; 
 
 For suddenly all his thoughts are bent 
 
 On a shadowy something far away, 
 
 Where the river widens to meet the bay — 
 
 A line of black that bends and floats 55 
 
 On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats. 
 
 Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, 
 
 Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride 
 
 On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. 
 
 Now he patted his horse's side, 60 
 
 Now gazed at the landscape far and near. 
 
 Then, impetuous, stamped the earth, 
 
 And turned and tightened his saddle-girth; 
 
 But mostly he watched with eager search 
 
 The belfry- tower of the Old North Church, 65 
 
 As it rose above the graves on the hill, 
 
 Lonely and spectral and sombre and still. 
 
 And lo! as he looks, on the belfry height 
 
 A glimmer, and then a gleam of light! 
 
 He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, 70 
 
 But hngers and gazes, till full on his sight 
 
 A second lamp in the belfry burns! 
 
 A hurry of hoofs in a village street, 
 A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, 
 And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark 
 Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet; 76 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 21 
 
 That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the 
 
 light, 
 The fate of a nation was riding that night; 
 And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, 
 Kindled the land into flame with its heat. 80 
 
 He has left the village and mounted the steep, 
 And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep, 
 Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides; 
 And under the alders, that skirt its edge. 
 Now soft on the sand, nov/ loud on the ledge, 85 
 Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides. 
 
 It was twelve by the village clock 
 
 When he crossed the bridge into Medford town. 
 
 He heard the crowing of the cock, 
 
 And the barking of the farmer's dog, 90 
 
 And felt the damp of the river fog, 
 
 That rises after the sun goes down. 
 
 It was one by the village clock. 
 
 When he galloped into Lexington. 
 
 He saw the gilded weathercock 95 
 
 Swim in the moonlight as he passed, 
 
 And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, 
 
 Gaze at him with a spectral glare, 
 
 As if they already stood aghast 
 
 At the bloody work they would look upon. 100 
 
 It was two by the village clock, 
 
 When he came to the bridge in Concord town. 
 
22 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 He heard the bleating of the flock, 
 
 And the twitter of birds among the trees, 
 
 And felt the breath of the morning breeze ic 
 
 Blowing over the meadows brown. 
 
 And one was safe and asleep in his bed 
 
 Who at the bridge would be first to fall, 
 
 Who that day would be lying dead. 
 
 Pierced by a British musket-ball. n 
 
 You know the rest. In the books you have read. 
 How the British Regulars fired and fied — 
 How the farmers gave them ball for ball. 
 From behind each fence and farm-yard wall, 
 Chasing the red-coats down the lane, 1 1 5 
 
 Then crossing the fields to emerge again 
 Under the trees at the turn of the road, 
 And only pausing to fire and load. 
 
 So through the night rode Paul Revere; 
 
 And so through the night w^ent his cry of alarm 120 
 
 To every Middlesex village and farm — 
 
 A cry of defiance and not of fear, 
 
 A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, 
 
 And a word that shall echo forevermore! 
 
 For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, 125 
 
 Through all our history, to the last, 
 
 In the hour of darkness and peril and need, 
 
 The people will waken and listen to hear 
 
 The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed. 
 
 And the midnight message of Paul Revere. 1-30 
 
 1 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 23 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 The Landlord ended thus his tale, 
 
 Then rising took down from its nail 
 
 The sword that hung there, dim with dust, 
 
 And cleaving to its sheath with rust, 
 
 And said, *'This sword was in the fight." i 
 
 The Poet seized it, and exclaimed, 
 
 'Tt is the sword of a good knight. 
 
 Though homespun was his coat-of-mail; 
 
 What matter if it be not named 
 
 Joyeuse, Colada, Durindale, 10 
 
 Excalibar, or Aroundight, 
 
 Or other name the books record ? 
 
 Your ancestor, who bore this sword 
 
 As Colonel of the Volunteers, 
 
 Mounted upon his old gray mare, 15 
 
 Seen here and there and everywhere, 
 
 To me a grander shape appears 
 
 Than old Sir William, or what not, 
 
 Clinking about in foreign lands 
 
 With iron gauntlets on his hands, 20 
 
 And on his head an iron pot!" 
 
 All laughed; the Landlord's face grew red 
 
 As his escutcheon on the wall; 
 
 He could not comprehend at all 
 
 The drift of what the Poet said; 25 
 
 For those who had been longest dead 
 
24 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Were always greatest in his eyes; 
 
 And he was speechless with surprise 
 
 To see Sir William's plumed head 
 
 Brought to a level with the rest, 30 
 
 And made the subject of a jest. 
 
 1 
 
 And this perceiving, to appease 
 
 The Landlord's wrath, the others' fears, 
 
 The Student said, with careless ease, 
 
 "The ladies and the cavaliers, 35 
 
 The arms, the loves, the courtesies, 
 
 The deeds of high emprise, I sing! 
 
 Thus Ariosto says, in words 
 
 That have the stately stride and ring 
 
 Of armed knights and clashing swords. 40 
 
 Now listen to the tale I bring; 
 
 Listen! though not to me belong 
 
 The flowing draperies of his song, 
 
 The words that rouse, the voice that charms. 
 
 The Landlord's tale was one of arms, 45 
 
 Only a tale of love is mine. 
 
 Blending the human and divine, 
 
 A tale of the Decameron, told 
 
 In Palmieri's garden old. 
 
 By Fiametta,' laurel-crowned, 50 
 
 While her companions lay around. 
 
 And heard the intermingled sound 
 
 Of airs that on their errands sped, 
 
 And wild birds gossiping overhead. 
 
 And lisp of leaves, and fountain's fall, 55 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 25 
 
 And her own voice more sweet than all, 
 Telling the tale, which, wanting these, 
 Perchance may lose its power to please." 
 
 THE STUDENT'S TALE 
 
 THE FALCON OF SER FEDERIGO 
 
 One summer morning, when the sun was hot, 
 
 Weary with labor in his garden-plot. 
 
 On a rude bench beneath his cottage eaves, 
 
 Ser Federigo sat among the leaves 
 
 Of a huge vine, that, with its arms outspread, 5 
 
 Hung its delicious clusters overhead. 
 
 Below him, through the lovely valley, flowed 
 
 The river Arno, like a winding road. 
 
 And from its banks were lifted high in air 
 
 The spires and roofs of Florence called the Fair; i o 
 
 To him a marble tomb, that rose above 
 
 His wasted fortunes and his buried love. 
 
 For there in banquet and in tournament, 
 
 His wealth had lavished been, his substance spent, 
 
 To woo and lose, since ill his wooing sped, 15 
 
 Monna Giovanna, who his rival wed, 
 
 Yet ever in his fancy reigned supreme. 
 
 The ideal woman of a young man's dream. 
 
 Then he withdrew, in poverty and pain. 
 
 To this small farm, the last of his domain, 20 
 
 His only comfort and his only care 
 
26 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 To prune his vines, and plant the iig and pear; 
 
 His only forester and only guest 
 
 His falcon, faithful to him, when the rest, 
 
 Whose willing hands had found so light of yore 25 
 
 The brazen knocker of his palace door, 
 
 Had now no strength to lift the wooden latch. 
 
 That entrance gave beneath a roof of thatch. 
 
 Companion of his solitary ways. 
 
 Purveyor of his feasts on holidays, 30 
 
 On him this melancholy man bestowed 
 
 The love with which his nature overflowed. 
 
 And so the empty-handed years went round. 
 
 Vacant, though voiceful with prophetic sound, 
 
 And so, that summer morn, he sat and mused 35 
 
 With folded, patient hands, as he was used. 
 
 And dreamily before his half-closed sight 
 
 Floated the vision of his lost delight. 
 
 Beside him, motionless, the drowsy bird 
 
 Dreamed of the chase, and in his slumber heard 40 
 
 The sudden, scythe-like sweep of wings, that dare 
 
 The headlong plunge thro' eddying gulfs of air 
 
 Then, starting broad awake upon his perch, 
 
 Tinkled his bells, like mass-bells in a church, 
 
 And, looking at his master, seemed to say, 45 
 
 "Ser Federigo, shall we hunt to-day?" 
 
 Ser Federigo thought not of the chase; 
 
 The tender vision of her lovely face, 
 
 I will not say he seems to see, he sees 
 
 In the leaf-shadows of the trellises, 50 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 27 
 
 Herself, yet nut herself; a lovely child 
 
 With flowing tresses, and eyes wide and wild, 
 
 Coming undaunted up the garden walk, 
 
 And looking not at him, but at the hawk. 
 
 "Beautiful falcon!" said he, "would that I 55 
 
 Might hold thee on my wrist, or see thee fly!" 
 
 The voice was hers, and made strange echoes 
 
 start 
 Through all the haunted chambers of his heart, 
 As an aeolian harp through gusty doors 
 Of some old ruin its wild music pours. 60 
 
 "Who is thy mother, my fair boy?" he said, 
 
 His hand laid softly on that shining head. 
 
 "Monna Giovanna. — Will you let me stay 
 
 A little while, and with your falcon play? 
 
 W^e live there, just beyond your garden wall, 65 
 
 In the great house behind the poplars tall." 
 
 So he spake on; and Federigo heard 
 
 As from afar each softly uttered word, 
 
 And drifted onward through the golden gleams 
 
 And shadows of the misty sea of dreams, 70 
 
 As mariners becalmed through vapors drift, 
 
 And feel the sea beneath them sink and Hft, 
 
 And heard far off the mournful breakers roar, 
 
 And voices calling faintly from the shore! 
 
 Then, waking from his pleasant reveries, 75 
 
 He took the little boy upon his knees, 
 
 And told him stories of his gallant bird, 
 
 Till in their friendship he became a third. 
 
28 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Monna Giovanna, widowed in her prime, 
 
 Had come with friends to pass the summer time 80 
 
 In her grand villa, half-way up the hill, 
 
 O'erlooking Florence, but retired and still; 
 
 With iron gates, that opened through long lines 
 
 Of sacred ilex and centennial pines, 
 
 And terraced gardens, and broad steps of stone, 85 
 
 And sylvan deities, with moss o'ergrown, 
 
 And fountains palpitating in the heat. 
 
 And all Val d'Arno stretched beneath its feet. 
 
 Here in seclusion, as a widow may. 
 
 The lovely lady whiled the hours away, 90 
 
 Pacing in sal^le robes the statued hall. 
 
 Herself the statehest statue among all. 
 
 And seeing more and more, with secret joy, 
 
 Her husband risen and living in her boy, 
 
 Till the lost sense of life returned again, 95 
 
 Not as delight, but as rehef from pain. 
 
 Meanwhile the boy, rejoicing in his strength, 
 
 Stormed down the terraces from length to length; 
 
 The screaming peacock chased in hot pursuit, 
 
 And climbed the garden trellises for fruit. 100 
 
 But his chief pastime was to watch the flight 
 
 Of a gerfalcon, soaring into sight. 
 
 Beyond the trees that fringed the garden wall. 
 
 Then downward stooping at some distant call; 
 
 And as he gazed full often wondered he 105 
 
 Who might the master of the falcon be, 
 
 Until that happy morning, when he found 
 
 Master and falcon in the cottage ground. 
 
 I 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 29 
 
 And now a shadow and a terror fell 
 
 On the great house, as if a passing-bell no 
 
 Tolled from the tower, and filled each spacious room 
 
 With secret awe, and preternatural gloom; 
 
 The petted boy grew ill, and day by day 
 
 Pined with mysterious malady away. 
 
 The mother's heart would not be comforted; 115 
 
 Her darling seemed to her already dead. 
 
 And often, sitting by the sufferer's side, 
 
 "What can I do to comfort thee?" she cried. 
 
 At first the silent lips made no reply. 
 
 But, moved at length by her importunate cry, 120 
 
 "Give me," he answered, with imploring tone, 
 
 "Ser Federigo's falcon for my own!" 
 
 No answer could the astonished mother make; 
 How^ could she ask, e'en for her darling's sake, 
 Such favor at a luckless lover's hand, 125 
 
 Well knowing that to ask was to command? 
 Well knowing, what all falconers confessed, 
 In all the land that falcon was the best, 
 The master's pride and passion and delight. 
 And the sole pursuivant of this poor knight. 130 
 But yet, for her child's sake, she could no less 
 Than give assent, to soothe his restlessness, 
 So promised, and then promising to keep 
 Her promise sacred, saw him fall asleep. 
 
 The morrow was a bright September morn; 135 
 The earth was beautiful as if new-born; 
 
30 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 There was that nameless splendor everywhere, 
 That wild exhilaration in the air, 
 Which makes the passers in the city street 
 Congratulate each other as they meet. 1 40 
 
 Two lovely ladies, clothed in cloak and hood, 
 Passed through the garden gate into the wood. 
 Under the lustrous leaves, and through the sheen 
 Of dewy sunshine showering down between. 
 The one, close-hooded, had the attractive grace j 45 
 Which sorrow sometimes lends a woman's face; 
 Her dark eyes moistened with the mists that roll 
 From the gulf-stream of passion in the soul; 
 The other with her hood thrown back, her hair 
 Making a golden glory in the air, 150 
 
 Her cheeks suffused with an auroral blush, 
 Her young heart singing louder than the thrush. 
 So walked, that morn, through mingled light and 
 
 shade. 
 Each by the other's presence lovelier made, 
 Monna Giovanna and her bosom friend, 155 
 
 Intent upon their errand and its end. 
 
 They found Ser Federigo at his toil. 
 
 Like banished Adam, delving in the soil; 
 
 And when he looked and these fair women spied. 
 
 The garden suddenly was glorified; 160 
 
 His long-lost Eden was restored again. 
 
 And the strange river winding through the plain 
 
 No longer was the Arno to his eyes. 
 
 But the Euphrates watering Paradise! 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 31 
 
 Monna Giovanna raised her stately head, 165 
 
 And with fair words of salutation said: 
 
 ''Ser Federigo, we come here as friends, 
 
 Hoping in this to make some poor amends 
 
 For past unkindness. I who ne'er before 
 
 Would even cross the threshold of your door, 170 
 
 I who in happier days such pride maintained, 
 
 Refused your banquets, and your gifts disdained, 
 
 This morning come, a self-invited guest. 
 
 To put your generous nature to the test, 
 
 And breakfast with you under your own vine." 175 
 
 To which he answered: "Poor desert of mine. 
 
 Not your unkindness call it, for if aught 
 
 Is good in me of feeling or of thought. 
 
 From you it comes, and this last grace outweighs 
 
 All sorrows, all regrets of other days." 180 
 
 And after further compliment and talk. 
 
 Among the dahlias in the garden walk 
 
 He left his guests; and to his cottage turned. 
 
 And as he entered for a moment yearned 
 
 For the lost splendors of the days of old, 185 
 
 The ruby glass, the silver and the gold. 
 
 And felt how piercing is the sting of pride. 
 
 By want embittered and intensified. 
 
 He looks about him for some means or way 
 
 To keep this unexpected holiday; 190 
 
 Searched every cupboard, and then searched again. 
 
 Summoned the maid, who came, but came in vain; 
 
 "The Signor did not hunt to-day," she said, 
 
32 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 ''There's nothing in the house but wine and bread." 
 
 Then suddenly the drowsy falcon shook 195 
 
 His little bells, with that sagacious look, 
 
 Which said, as plain as language to the ear, 
 
 "If anything is wanting, I am here!" 
 
 Yes, everything is wanting, gallant bird! 
 
 The master seized thee without further word, 200 
 
 Like thine own lure, he whirled thee around; ah me! 
 
 The pomp and flutter of brave falconry. 
 
 The bells, the jesses, the bright scarlet hood. 
 
 The flight and the pursuit o'er field and wood. 
 
 All these forevermore are ended now; 205 
 
 No longer victor, but the victim thou! 
 
 Then on the board a snow-white cloth he spread, 
 
 Laid on its wooden dish the loaf of bread. 
 
 Brought purple grapes with autumn sunshine hot. 
 
 The fragrant peach, the juicy bergamot; 210 
 
 Then in the midst a flask of wine he placed. 
 
 And with autumnal flowers the banquet graced. 
 
 Ser Federigo, would not these suffice 
 
 Without thy falcon stuffed with cloves and spice? 
 
 When all was ready, and the courtly dame 215 
 
 With her companion to the cottage came. 
 
 Upon Ser Federigo's brain there fell 
 
 The wild enchantment of a magic spell; 
 
 The room they entered, mean and low and small, 
 
 Was changed into a sumptuous banquet-hall, 220 
 
 With fanfares by aerial trumpets blown; 
 
 The rustic chair she sat on was a throne; 
 
 I 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 33 
 
 He ate celestial food, and a divine 
 
 Flavor was given to his country wine, 
 
 And the poor falcon, fragrant with his spice, 225 
 
 A peacock was, or bird of paradise! 
 
 When the repast was ended they arose, 
 
 And passed again into the garden-close. 
 
 Then said the lady, "Far too well I know, 
 
 Remembering still the days of long ago, 230 
 
 Though you betray it not, with what surprise 
 
 You see me here in this famihar w^ise. 
 
 You have no children, and you cannot guess 
 
 What anguish, what unspeakable distress 
 
 A mother feels, whose child is lying ill, 235 
 
 Nor how her heart anticipates his will. 
 
 And yet for this, you see me lay aside 
 
 All womanly reserve and check of pride. 
 
 And ask the thing most precious in your sight, 
 
 Your falcon, your sole comfort and delight, 240 
 
 Which if you find it in your heart to give, 
 
 My poor, unhappy boy perchance may live." 
 
 Ser Federigo hstens, and replies. 
 
 With tears of love and pity in his eyes: 
 
 *'Alas, dear lady! there can be no task 245 
 
 So sweet to me, as giving when you ask. 
 
 One Kttle hour ago, if I had known 
 
 This wish of yours, it would have been my own. 
 
 But thinking in what manner I could best 
 
 Do honor to th€ presence of my guest, 250 
 
34 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 I deemed that nothing worthier could be 
 Than what most dear and precious was to me, 
 And so my gallant falcon breathed his last 
 To furnish forth this morning our repast." 
 
 In mute contrition, mingled with dismay, 255 
 
 The gentle lady turned her eyes away, 
 Grieving that he such sacrifice should make, 
 And kill his falcon for a woman's sake, 
 Yet feehng in her heart a woman's pride, 
 That nothing she could ask for was denied; 260 
 Then took her leave, and passed out at the gate 
 With footstep slow and soul disconsolate. 
 
 Three days went by, and lo! a passing-bell 
 
 Tolled from the little chapel in the dell; 
 
 Ten strokes Ser Federigo heard, and said, 265 
 
 Breathing a prayer, "Alas! her child is dead!" 
 
 Three months went by; and lo! a merrier chime 
 
 Rang from the chapel bells at Christmas time; 
 
 The cottage was deserted, and no more 
 
 Ser Federigo sat beside its door. 270 
 
 But now, with servitors to do his wall, 
 
 In the grand villa, half-way up the hill. 
 
 Sat at the Christmas feast, and at his side 
 
 Monna Giovanna, his beloved bride, 
 
 Never so beautiful, so kind, so fair, 275 
 
 Enthroned once more in the old rustic chair, 
 
 High-perched upon the back of which there stood 
 
 The image of a falcon carved in wood, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 35 
 
 And underneath the inscription, with a date, 
 
 "All things come round to him who will but wait." 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 Soon as the story reached its end, 
 One, over eager to commend, 
 Crowned it with injudicious praise; 
 And then the voice of blame found vent, 
 And fanned the embers of dissent 5 
 
 Into a somew^hat lively blaze. 
 
 The Theologian shook his head; 
 
 "These old Italian tales," he said, 
 
 "From the much-praised Decameron down 
 
 Through all the rabble of the rest, 10 
 
 Are either trifling, dull, or lewd; 
 
 The gossip of a neighborhood 
 
 In some remote provincial town, 
 
 A scandalous chronicle at best! 
 
 They seem to me a stagnant fen, 15 
 
 Grown rank with rushes and with reeds. 
 
 Where a white lily, now and then. 
 
 Blooms in the midst of noxious weeds 
 
 And deadly nightshade on its banks." 
 
 To this the Student straight replied, 20 
 
 "For the white lily, many thanks! 
 
 One should not say, with too much pride, 
 
30 TALES Ot A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Fountain, I will not drink of thee! 
 
 Nor were it grateful to forget, 
 
 That from these reservoirs and tanks 25 
 
 Even imperial Shakespeare drew 
 
 His Moor of Venice and the Jew, 
 
 And Romeo and Juliet, 
 
 And many a famous comedy." 
 
 Then a long pause; till some one said, 30 
 
 ''An Angel is flying overhead!" 
 
 At these words spake the Spanish Jew, 
 
 And murmured with an inward breath: 
 
 "God grant, if what you say is true 
 
 It may not be the Angel of Death!" 35 
 
 And then another pause; and then. 
 
 Stroking his beard, he said again: 
 
 "This brings back to my memory 
 
 A story in the Talmud told, 
 
 That book of gems, that book of gold, 40 
 
 Of wonders many and manifold, 
 
 A tale that often comes to me. 
 
 And fills my heart, and haunts my brain. 
 
 And never wearies nor growls old." 
 
 THE SPANISH JEW'S TALE 
 
 THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVI 
 
 Rabbi Ben Levi, on the Sabbath, read 
 A volume of the Law, in which it said. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 37 
 
 ''No man shall look upon my face and live." 
 And as he read, he prayed that God would give 
 His faithful servant with mortal eye 5 
 
 To look upon His face and yet not die. 
 
 Then fell a sudden shadow on the page, 
 
 And, lifting up his eyes, grown dim with age, 
 
 He saw the Angel of Death before him stand, 
 
 Holding a naked sword in his right hand. 10 
 
 Rabbi Ben Levi was a righteous man, 
 
 Yet through his veins a chill of terror ran. 
 
 With trembling voice he said, "What wilt thou 
 
 here ? ' 
 The x\ngel answered, "Lo! the time draws near 
 When thou must die; yet first, by God's decree, 15 
 Whate'er thou askest shall be granted thee." 
 Replied the Rabbi, "Let these living eyes 
 First look upon my place in Paradise." 
 
 Then said the Angel, "Come with me and look." 
 
 Rabbi Ben Levi closed the sacred book, 20 
 
 And rising, and uplifting his gray head, 
 
 "Give me thy sword," he to the Angel said, 
 
 "Lest thou shouldst fall upon me by the way." 
 
 The Angel smiled and hastened to obey, 
 
 Then led him forth to the Celestial Town, 25 
 
 And set him on the wall, whence, gazing down, 
 
 Rabbi Ben Levi, with his living eye, 
 
 Might look upon his place in Paradise. 
 
 Then straight into the citv of the Lord 
 
38 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 The Rabbi leaped with the Death- Angel's sword, 30 
 And through the streets there swept a sudden breath 
 Of something there unknown, which men call death. 
 Meanwhile the Angel stayed without, and cried, 
 ''Come back I " To which the Rabbi's voice replied, 
 "No! in the name of God, whom I adore, 35 
 
 I swear that hence I will depart no more!" 
 
 Then all the Angels cried, "O Holy One, 
 §ee what the son of Levi here has done! 
 The kingdom of Heaven he takes by violence, 
 And in Thy name refuses to go hence!" 40 
 
 The Lord replied, "My Angels, be not wToth; 
 Did e'er the son of Levi break his oath? 
 Let him remain; for he with mortal eye 
 Shall look upon my face and yet not die." 
 Beyond the outer wall the Angel of Death 45 
 
 Heard the great voice, and said, with panting 
 
 t>reath, 
 "Give back the sword, and let me go my way." 
 Whereat the Rabbi paused, and answered, "Nay! 
 Artguish enough already has it caused 
 Among the sons of men." And while he paused 50 
 He heard the awful mandate of the Lord 
 Resounding through the air, " Give back the sword! " 
 
 The Rabbi bowed his head in silent prayer; 
 Then said he to the dreadful Angel, "Swear, 
 No human eye shall look on it again; 55 
 
 But when thou takest away the souls of men, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 39 
 
 Thyself unseen, and with an unseen sword, 
 Thou wilt perform the bidding of the Lord." 
 
 The Angel took the sword again, and swore, 
 
 And walks on earth unseen forevermore. 60 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 He ended: and a kind of spell 
 
 Upon the silent listeners fell. 
 
 His solemn manner and his words 
 
 Had touched the deep, mysterious chords. 
 
 That vibrate in each human breast 
 
 Alike, but not alike confessed. 
 
 The spiritual world seemed near; 
 
 And close above them, full of fear, 
 
 Its awful adumbration passed, 
 
 A luminous shadow, vague and vast. 
 
 They almost feared to look, lest there, 
 
 Embodied from the impalpable air, 
 
 They might behold the Angel stand, 
 
 Holding the sword in his right hand. 
 
 At last, but in a voice subdued, 
 
 Not to disturb their dreamy mood, 
 
 Said the Sicilian: "While you spoke, 
 
 TeUing your legend marvellous, 
 
 Suddenly my memory woke 
 
 The thought of one, now gone from us — 
 
 An old Abate, meek and mild, 
 
40 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 My friend and teacher, when a child, 
 
 Who sometimes in those days of old 
 
 The legend of an Angel told, 
 
 Which ran, if I remember, thus." 25 
 
 THE SICILIAN'S TALE 
 
 KING ROBERT OF SICILY 
 
 Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane 
 And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 
 Apparelled in magnificent attire. 
 With retinue of many a knight and squire, 
 On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat 5 
 
 And heard the priests chant the Magnificat. 
 And as he listened, o'er and o'er again 
 Repeated, like a burden or refrain, 
 He caught the words, '^ Deposuit potentes 
 De sede, et exaltavit humiles^^; 10 
 
 And slowly lifting up his kingly head 
 He to a learned clerk beside him said, 
 "What mean these words?" The clerk made an- 
 swer meet, 
 "He has put down the mighty from their seat. 
 And has exalted them of low degree." 15 
 
 Thereat King Robert muttered scornfully, 
 " 'Tis well that such seditious words are sung 
 Only by priests and in the Latin tongue; 
 For unto priests and people be it known. 
 There is no power can push me from my throne ! " 20 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 41 
 
 And leaning back, he yawned and fell asleep, 
 Lulled by the chant monotonous and deep. 
 
 When he awoke, it was already night; 
 The church was empty, and there was no light. 
 Save where the lamps, that glimmered few and faint, 
 Lighted a little space before some saint. . 26 
 
 He started from his seat and gazed around, 
 But saw no living thing and heard no sound. 
 He groped towards the door, but it was locked; 
 He cried aloud, and listened, and then knocked, 30 
 And uttered awful threatenings and complaints. 
 And imprecations upon men and saints. 
 The sounds re-echoed from the roof and walls 
 As if dead priests were laughing in their stalls! 
 
 At length the sexton, hearing from without 35 
 
 The tumult of the knocking and the shout. 
 And thinking thieves were in the house of prayer. 
 Came with his lantern, asking, "Who is there?" 
 Half choked with rage, King Robert fiercely said, 
 "Open: 'tis I, the King! Art thou afraid?" 40 
 The frightened sexton, muttering, with a curse, 
 "This is some drunken vagabond, or worse!" 
 Turned the great key and flung the portal wide; 
 A man rushed by him at a single stride. 
 Haggard, half naked, without hat or cloak, 45 
 
 Who neither turned, nor looked at him, nor spoke, 
 But leaped into the blackness of the night. 
 And vanished like a spectre from his sight. 
 
42 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane 
 And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 50 
 
 Despoiled of his magnificent attire, 
 Bare-headed, breathless, and besprent with mire, 
 With sense of wrong and outrage desperate, 
 Strode on and thundered at the palace gate; 
 Rushed through the court-yard, thrusting in his rage 
 To right and left each seneschal and page, 56 
 
 And hurried up the broad and sounding stair, 
 His white face ghastly in the torches' glare. 
 From hall to hall he passed with breathless speed; 
 Voices and cries he heard, but did not heed, 60 
 Until at last he reached the banquet-room. 
 Blazing with light, and breathing with perfume. 
 
 There on the dais sat another king, 
 
 Wearing his robes, his crown, his signet-ring. 
 
 King Robert's self in features, form, and height, 65 
 
 But all transfigured with angehc light! 
 
 It was an Angel; and his presence there 
 
 With divine eft'ulgence filled the air. 
 
 An exaltation, piercing the disguise. 
 
 Though none the hidden Angel recognize. 70 
 
 A moment speechless, motionless, amazed. 
 The throneless monarch on the Angel gazed, 
 Who met his looks of anger and surprise 
 With the divine compassion of his eyes; 
 Then said, "Who art thou? and why com'st thou 
 here?" 75 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 43 
 
 To which King Robert answered, \yith a sneer, 
 "I am the King, and come to claim my own 
 From an impostor, who usurps my throne!" 
 And suddenly, at these audacious words. 
 Up sprang the angry guests, and drew their swords; 
 The Angel answered, with unruffled brow, 81 
 
 "Nay, not the King, but the King's Jester, thou 
 Henceforth shalt wear the bells and scalloped 
 
 cape, 
 And for thy counsellor shalt lead an ape; 
 Thou shalt obey my servants when they call, 85 
 And wait upon my henchmen in the hall!" 
 
 Deaf to King Robert's threats and cries and prayers. 
 They thrust him from the hall and down the stairs; 
 A group of tittering pages ran before, 
 And as they opened wide the folding-door, 90 
 
 His heart failed, for he heard, with strange alarms. 
 The boisterous laughter of the men-at-arms, 
 And all the vaulted chamber roar and ring 
 With the mock plaudits of "Long hve the King!" 
 
 .Next morning, waking with the day's first beam, 95 
 He said within himself, "It was a dream!" 
 But the straw rustled as he turned his head. 
 There were the cap and bells beside his bed. 
 Around him rose the bare, discolored walls, 
 Close by, the steeds were champing in their stalls, 
 And in the corner, a revolting shape, loi 
 
 Shivering and chattering sat the wretched ape. 
 
44 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 It was no dream; the world he loved so much 
 Had turned to dust and ashes at his touch! 
 
 Days came and went; and now returned again 105 
 
 To Sicily the old Saturnian reign; 
 
 Under the Angel's governance benign 
 
 The happy island danced with corn and wine, 
 
 And deep within the mountain's burning breast 
 
 Enceladus, the giant, was at rest. no 
 
 Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate. 
 
 Sullen and silent and disconsolate. 
 
 Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters wear. 
 
 With looks bewildered and a vacant stare. 
 
 Close shaven above the ears, as monks are shorn, 1 1 5 
 
 By courtiers mocked, by pages laughed to scorn, 
 
 His only friend the ape, his only food 
 
 What others left — he still was unsubdued. 
 
 And when the Angel met him on his way. 
 
 And half in earnest, half in jest, would say, 120 
 
 Sternly, though tenderly, that he might feel 
 
 The velvet scabbard held a sword of steel, 
 
 "Art thou the King?" the passion of his woe 
 
 Burst from him in resistless overflov/. 
 
 And, lifting high his forehead, he would fling 125 
 
 The haughty answer back, "I am, I am the King!" 
 
 Almost three years were ended; w^hen there came 
 
 Ambassadors of great repute and name 
 
 From Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 
 
 Unto King Robert, saying that Pope Urbane 130 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 45 
 
 By letter summoned them forthwith to come 
 
 On Holy Thursday to his city of Rome. 
 
 The Angel with great joy received his guests, 
 
 And gave them presents of embroidered vests, 
 
 And velvet mantles with rich ermine lined, 135 
 
 And rings and jewels of the rarest kind. 
 
 Then he departed with them o'er the sea 
 
 Into the lovely land of Italy, 
 
 Whose loveliness was more resplendent made 
 
 By the mere passing of that cavalcade, 140 
 
 With plumes, and cloaks, and housings, and the stir 
 
 Of jewelled bridle and of golden spur. 
 
 And lo! among the menials, in mock state. 
 
 Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait. 
 
 His cloak of fox-tails flapping in the wind, 14S 
 
 The solemn ape demurely perched behind. 
 
 King Robert rode, making huge merriment 
 
 In all the country towns through which they went. 
 
 The Pope received them with great pomp, and blare 
 
 Of bannered trumpets, on Saint Peter's square, 150 
 
 Giving his benediction and embrace, 
 
 Fervent, and full of apostolic grace. 
 
 While with congratulations and with prayers 
 
 He entertained the Angel unawares, 
 
 Robert, the Jester, bursting through the crowd, 155 
 
 Into their presence rushed, and cried aloud, 
 
 "lam the King ! Look , and behold in me 
 
 Robert, your brother, King of Sicily! 
 
46 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 This man, who wears my semblance to your eyes, 
 Is an impostor in a king's disguise. i6o 
 
 Do you not know me? does no voice within 
 Answer my cry, and say we are akin?" 
 The Pope in silence, but with troubled mien, 
 Gazed at the Angel's countenance serene; 
 The Emperor, laughing, said, ''It is strange sport 165 
 To keep a madman for thy Fool at court!" 
 And the poor, baffled Jester in disgrace 
 Was hustled back among the populace. 
 
 In solemn state the Holy Week went by. 
 
 And Easter Sunday gleamed upon the sky; 170 
 
 The presence of the Angel, with its light, 
 
 Before the sun rose, made the city bright. 
 
 And with new fervor filled the hearts of men, 
 
 Who felt that Christ indeed had risen again. 
 
 Even the Jester, on his bed of straw, 175 
 
 With haggard eyes the unwonted splendor saw, 
 
 He felt within a power unfelt before. 
 
 And, kneeling humbly on his chamber floor. 
 
 He heard the rushing garments of the Lord 
 
 Sweep through the silent air, ascending heavenward. 
 
 And now the visit ending, and once more 181 
 
 Valmond returning to the Danube's shore, 
 Homeward the Angel journeyed, and again 
 The land was made resplendent with his train, 
 Flashing along the towns of Italy, 185 
 
 Unto Salerno, and from there by sea. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 47 
 
 And when once more within Palermo's wall, 
 
 And, seated on the throne in his great hall. 
 
 He heard the Angelus from convent towers, 
 
 As if the better world conversed with ours, 190 
 
 He beckoned to King Robert to draw nigher, 
 
 And with a gesture bade the rest retire; 
 
 And when they were alone, the Angel said, 
 
 "Art thou the King?" Then bowing down his 
 
 head. 
 King Robert crossed both hands upon his breast, 1 9 5 
 And meekly answered him : ' ' Thou knowest best ! 
 My sins as scarlet are; let me go hence. 
 And in some cloister's school of penitence. 
 Across those stones that pave the way to heaven. 
 Walk barefoot, till my guilty soul is shriven!" 200 
 The Angel smiled, and from his radiant face 
 A holy light illumined all the place. 
 And through the open window, loud and clear, 
 They heard the monks chant in the chapel near. 
 Above the stir and tumult of the street: 205 
 
 "He has put down the mighty from their seat. 
 And has exalted them of low degree!" 
 And through the chant a second melody 
 Rose like the throbbing of a single string: 
 "I am an Angel, and thou art the King!" 210 
 
 King Robert, who was standing near the throne. 
 
 Lifted his eyes, and lo! he was alone! 
 
 But all apparelled as in days of old. 
 
 With ermined mantle and wdth cloth of gold; 21 4 
 
48 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 And when his courtiers came, they found him there 
 KneeUng upon the floor, absorbed in silent prayer. 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 And then the blue-eyed Norseman told 
 A Saga of the days of old. 
 'There is," said he, "a wondrous book 
 Of Legends in the old Norse tongue. 
 Of the dead kings of Norroway — 5 
 
 Legends that once were told or sung 
 In many a smoky fireside nook 
 Of Iceland, in the ancient day, 
 By wandering Saga-man or Scald; 
 Heimskringla is the volume called; 10 
 
 And he who looks may find therein 
 The story that I now begin." 
 
 And in each pause the story made 
 
 Upon his violin he played. 
 
 As an appropriate interlude, 15 
 
 Fragments of old Norwegian tunes 
 
 That bound in one the separate runes. 
 
 And held the mind in perfect mood. 
 
 Entwining and encircling all 
 
 The strange and antiquated rhymes 20 
 
 With melodies of olden times; 
 
 As over some half-ruined wall. 
 
 Disjointed and about to fall. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 4Q 
 
 Fresh woodbines climb and interlace, 
 
 And keep the loosened stones in place. 25 
 
 THE MUSICIAN'S TALE 
 
 THE SAGA OF KING OLAF 
 
 I 
 THE CHALLENGE OF THOR 
 
 I am the God Thor 
 
 I am the War God, 
 
 I am the Thunderer! 
 
 Here in my Northland, 
 
 My fastness and fortress, 5 
 
 Reign I forever! 
 
 Here amid iceberg 
 
 Rule I the nations; 
 
 This is my hammer, 
 
 Miolner the mighty; 10 
 
 Giants and sorcerers 
 
 Cannot withstand it! 
 
 These are the gauntlets 
 
 Wherewith I wield it. 
 
 And hurl it afar off; 15 
 
 This is my girdle; 
 
 Whenever I brace it. 
 
 Strength is redoubled! 
 
so TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 The light thou l)eholdest 
 
 Stream through the heavens, 20 
 
 In flashes of crimson, 
 
 Is but my red beard 
 
 Blown by the night-wind, 
 
 Affrighting the nations! 
 
 Jove is my brother; 25 
 
 Mine eyes are the lightning; 
 
 The wheels of my chariot 
 
 Roll in the thunder, 
 
 The blows of my hammer 
 
 Ring in the earthquake! 30- 
 
 Force rules the world still. 
 
 Has ruled it, shall rule it; 
 
 Meekness is weakness. 
 
 Strength is triumphant, 
 
 Over the whole earth 35 
 
 Still is it Thor's-Day! 
 
 Thou art a God, too, 
 
 O GaHlean! 
 
 And thus single-handed ] 
 
 Unto the combat, 4° 
 
 Gauntlet or Gospel, 
 
 Here I defy thee! 
 
 II 
 
 KING OLAF'S return 
 
 And King Olaf heard the cry, 
 Saw the red light in the sky, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 51 
 
 Laid his hand upon his sword, 45 
 
 As he leaned upon the raiUng, 
 And his ships went saihng, sailing 
 
 Northward into Drontheim fiord. 
 
 There he stood as one who dreamed; 
 
 And the red light glanced and gleamed 50 
 
 On the armor that he wore; 
 And he shouted, as the rifted 
 Streamers o'er him shook and shifted, 
 ''I accept thy challenge, Thor!" 
 
 To avenge his father slain, 55 
 
 And reconquer realm and reign, 
 
 Came the youthful Olaf home. 
 Through the midnight, sailing, sailing. 
 Listening to the wild wind's wailing. 
 
 And the dashing of the foam. 60 
 
 To his thoughts the sacred name 
 Of his mother Astrid came, 
 
 And the tale she oft had told 
 Of her flight by secret passes 
 Through the mountains and morasses, 65 
 
 To the home of Hakon old. 
 
 Then strange memories crowded back 
 Of Queen Gunhild's wrath and wrack, 
 
 And a hurried flight by sea; 
 Of grim Vikings, and their rapture 70 
 
52 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 In the sea-fight, and the capture, 
 And the life of slavery. 
 
 How a stranger watched his face 
 In the Esthonian market-place, 
 
 Scanned his features one by one, 75 
 
 Saying, ''We should know each other; 
 I am Sigurd, Astrid's brother, 
 
 Thou art Olaf, Astrid's son!" 
 
 Then as Queen Allogia's page, 
 
 Old in honors, young in age, 80 
 
 Chief of all her men-at-arms; 
 Till vague whispers, and mysterious, 
 Reached King Valdemar, the imperious, 
 
 Filling him with strange alarms. 
 
 Then his cruisings o'er the seas, 85 
 
 Westward to the Hebrides, 
 
 And to Scilly's rocky shore; 
 And the hermit's cavern dismal, 
 Christ's great name and rites baptismal, 
 
 In the ocean's rush and roar. 90 
 
 All these thoughts of love and strife 
 Glimmered through his lurid life, 
 
 As the stars' intenser light 
 Through the red flames o'er him trailing, 
 As his ships went sailing, sailing, 95 
 
 Northward in the summer night. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 53 
 
 Trained for either camp or court, 
 Skilful in each manly sport, 
 
 Young and beautiful and tall; 
 Art of warfare, craft of chases, 100 
 
 Swimming, skating, snow-shoe races, 
 
 Excellent alike in all. 
 
 When at sea, with all his rowers, 
 He along the bending oars 
 
 Outside of his ship could run. 105 
 
 He the Smalsor Horn ascended, 
 And his shining shield suspended 
 
 On its summit, like a sun. 
 
 On the ship-rails he could stand. 
 
 Wield his sword with either hand, no 
 
 And at once two javehns throw; 
 At all feasts where ale was strongest 
 Sat the merry monarch longest. 
 
 First to come and last to go. 
 
 Norway never yet had seen 215 
 
 One so beautiful of mien, 
 
 One so royal in attire, 
 When in arms completely furnished, 
 Harness gold-inlaid and burnished. 
 
 Mantle like a flame of fire. 120 
 
 Thus came Olaf to his own 
 When upon the night-wind blown 
 
54 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Passed that cry along the shore; 
 And he answered, while the rifted 
 Streamers o'er him shook and shifted, 125 
 
 ^'I accept they challenge, Thor"! 
 
 Ill 
 
 THORA OF RIMOL 
 
 ^'Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me! 
 
 Danger and shame and death betide me! 
 
 For Olaf the King is hunting me down 
 
 Through field and forest, through thorp and town ! " 
 Thus cried Jarl Hakon 131 
 
 To Thora, the fairest of women. 
 
 "Hakon Jarl! for the love I bear thee 
 Neither shall shame nor death come near thee! 
 But the hiding-place wherein thou must lie 135 
 
 Is the cave underneath the swine in the sty." 
 
 Thus to Jarl Hakon 
 
 Said Thora, the fairest of women. 
 
 So Hakon Jarl and his base thrall Karker 
 Crouched in the cave, than a dungeon darker, 140 
 As Olaf came riding, with men in mail. 
 Through the forest roads into Orkadale, 
 Demanding Jarl Hakon 
 Of Thora, the fairest of women. 
 
 "Rich and honored shall be whoever 145 
 
 The head of Hakon Jarl shall dissever!" 
 
 I 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 55 
 
 Hakon heard him, and Karker the slave, 
 Through the breathing-holes of the darksome cave. 
 
 Alone in her chamber 
 
 Wept Thora, the fairest of women. 150 
 
 Said Karker, the crafty, "I will not slay thee 
 For all the King's gold I will never betray thee!" 
 "Then why dost thou turn so pale, O churl. 
 And then again black as the earth?" said the Earl. 
 More pale and more faithful 155 
 
 Was Thora, the fairest of women. 
 
 From a dream in the night the thrall started, saying, 
 " Round my neck a gold ring King Olaf was laying! " 
 And Hakon answered, "Beware of the King! 
 He will lay round thy neck a blood-red ring." 160 
 At the ring on her finger 
 Gazed Thora, the fairest of women. 
 
 At daybreak slept Hakon, with sorrows encumbered. 
 But screamed and drew up his feet as he slumbered; 
 The thrall in the darkness plunged with his knife, 165 
 And the Earl awakened no more in this life. 
 But wakeful and weeping 
 Sat Thora, the fairest of women. 
 
 At Nidarholm the priests are all singing. 
 
 Two ghastly heads on the gibbet are swinging; 170 
 
 One is Jarl Hakon's and one is his thrall's, 
 
 And the people are shouting from windows and walls; 
 
56 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 While alone in her chamber 
 Swoons Thora, the fairest of women. 
 
 IV 
 
 QUEEN SIGRID THE HAUGHTY 
 
 Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft 175 
 In her chamber, that looked over meadow and croft. 
 
 Heart's dearest, 
 
 Why dost thou sorrow so? 
 
 The floor with tassels of fir was besprent, 
 
 Filling the room with their fragrant scent. 180 
 
 She heard the birds sing, she saw the sun shine. 
 The air of the summer was sweeter than wine. 
 
 Like a sword without scabbard the bright river lay 
 Between her own kingdom and Norroway. 
 
 But Olaf the King had sued for her hand, .185 
 The sword would be sheathed, the river be spanned. 
 
 Her maidens were seated around her knee, 
 Working bright figures in tapestry. 
 
 And one was singing the ancient rune 
 
 Of Brynhilda's love and the wrath of Gudrun. 190 
 
 And through it, and round it, and over it all 
 Sounded incessant the waterfall. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 57 
 
 The Queen in her hand held a ring of gold, 
 From the door of Lade's Temple old. 
 
 King Olaf had sent her this wedding gift, 195 
 
 But her thoughts as arrows were keen and swift. 
 
 She had given the ring to her goldsmiths twain. 
 Who smiled, as they handed it back again. 
 
 And Sigrid the Queen, in her haughty way. 
 
 Said, "Why do you smile, my goldsmiths, say ? " 200 
 
 And they answered: ''O Queen! if the truth must 
 
 be told. 
 The ring is of copper, and not of gold!" 
 
 The lightning flashed o'er her forehead and cheek, 
 She only murmured, she did not speak: 
 
 'Tf in his gifts he can faithless be, 205 
 
 There will be no gold in his love to me." 
 
 A footstep was heard on the outer stair, 
 And in strode King Olaf with royal air. 
 
 He kissed the Queen's hand, and he whispered of 
 
 love. 
 And swore to be true as the stars are above. 210 
 
 But she smiled with contempt as she answered: "O 
 
 King, 
 Will you swear it, as Odin once swore, on the ring?" 
 
58 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 And the King: ''O speak not of Odin to me, 
 The wife of King Olaf a Christian must be." 
 
 Looking straight at the King, with her level brows, 
 She said, "I keep true to my faith and my vows." 2 1 6 
 
 Then the face of King Olaf was darkened with 
 
 gloom. 
 He rose in his anger and strode through the room. 
 
 ' ' Why, then, should I care to have thee ? " he said — 
 ''A faded old woman, a heathenish jade!" 220 
 
 His zeal was stronger than fear or love, 
 
 And he struck the Queen in the face with his glove. 
 
 Then forth from the chamber in anger he fled. 
 And the wooden stairway shook with his tread. 
 
 Queen Sigrid the Haughty said under her breath, 225 
 ''This insuh, King Olaf, shall be thy death!" 
 
 Heart's dearest, 
 
 Why dost thou sorrow so? 
 
 V 
 
 THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS 
 
 Now from all King Olaf's farms 
 
 His men-at-arms 230 
 
 Gathered at the Eve of Easter: 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 59 
 
 To his house at Angvalds-ness 
 
 Fast they press, 
 Drinking with the royal feaster. 
 
 Loudly through the wide-flung door 235 
 
 Came the roar 
 Of the sea upon the Skerry; 
 And its thunder loud and near 
 
 Reached the ear, 
 Mingling with their voices merry. 240 
 
 ''Hark!" said Olaf to his Scald, 
 
 Halfred the Bald, 
 "Listen to that song, and learn it! 
 Half my kingdom would I give. 
 
 As I live, 245 
 
 If by such songs you would earn it' 
 
 "For of all the runes and rhymes 
 
 Of all times. 
 Best I like the ocean's dirges, 
 When the old harper heaves and rocks, 250 
 
 His hoary locks 
 Flowing and flashing in the surges!" 
 
 Halfred answered: "I am called 
 
 The Unappalled! 
 Nothing hinders me or daunts me. 255 
 
 Hearken to me, then, O King, 
 
 While I sing 
 The sfreat Ocean Song that haunts me." 
 
6o TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 "I will hear your song sublime 
 
 Some other time," 260 
 
 Says the drowsy monarch, yawning, 
 And retires; each laughing guest 
 
 Applauds the jest; 
 Then they sleep till day is dawning. 
 
 Pacing up and down the yard, 265 
 
 King Olaf s guard 
 Saw the sea-mist slowly creeping 
 O'er the sands, and up the hill. 
 
 Gathering still 
 Round the house where they were sleeping. 270 
 
 It was not the fog he saw, 
 
 Nor misty flaw, 
 That above the landscape brooded; 
 It was Eyvind Kallda's crew 
 
 Of warlocks blue, 275 
 
 With their caps of darkness hooded! 
 
 Round and round the house they go, 
 
 Weaving slow 
 Magic circles to encumber 
 And imprison in their ring 280 
 
 Olaf the King, 
 As he helpless lies in slumber. 
 
 Then athwart the vapors dun 
 The Easter sun 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 6i 
 
 Streamed with one broad track of splendor! 285 
 In their real forms appeared 
 The warlocks weird, 
 Awful as the Witch of Endor. 
 
 BHnded by the light that glared, 
 
 They groped and stared 290 
 
 Round about with steps unsteady; 
 From his window Olaf gazed, 
 
 And, amazed, 
 "Who are these strange people?" said he. 
 
 "Eyvind Kallda and his men!" 295 
 
 Answered then 
 From the yard a sturdy farmer; 
 While the men-at-arms apace 
 
 Filled the place. 
 Busily buckUng on their armor. 300 
 
 From the gates they sallied forth, 
 
 South and north, 
 Scoured the island coast around them, 
 Seizing all the warlike band, 
 
 Foot and hand 305 
 
 On the Skerry's rocks they bound them. 
 
 And at eve the King again 
 
 Called his train. 
 And, with all the candles burning, 
 Silent sat and heard once more 310 
 
62 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 The sullen roar 
 Of the ocean tides returning. 
 
 Shrieks and cries of wild despair 
 
 Filled the air, 
 Growing fainter as they listened; 315 
 
 Then the bursting surge alone 
 
 Sounded on; — 
 Thus the sorcerers were christened! 
 
 "Sing, O Scald, your song sublime. 
 
 Your ocean-rhyme," 320 
 
 Cried King Olaf: "it will cheer me!" 
 Said the Scald, with paUid cheeks, 
 
 "The Skerry of Shrieks 
 Sings too loud for you to hear me!" 
 
 VI. 
 THE WRAITH OF ODIN 
 
 The guests were loud, the ale was strong, 325 
 King Olaf feasted late and long; 
 The hoary Scalds together sang; 
 O'erhead the smoky rafters rang. 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 The door swung wide, with creak and din; 330 
 A blast of cold night-air came in. 
 And on the threshold shivering stood 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 63 
 
 A one-eyed guest, with cloak and hood. 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 The King exclaimed, "O graybeard pale! 335 
 Come warm thee with this cup of ale." 
 The foaming draught the old man quaffed. 
 The noisy guests looked on and laughed. 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 Then spake the King: "Be not afraid; 340 
 
 Sit here by me." The guest obeyed, 
 And, seated at the table, told 
 Tales of the sea, and Sagas old. 
 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 And ever, when the tale was o'er 345 
 
 The King demanded yet one more; 
 Till Sigurd the Bishop smiling said, 
 'Tis late, O King, and time for bed." 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 The King retired; the stranger guest 350 
 
 Followed and entered with the rest; 
 The lights were out, the pages gone, 
 But still the garrulous guest spake on. 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 As one who from a volume reads, 355 
 
 He spake of heroes and their deeds, 
 Of lands and cities he had seen, 
 
64 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 And stormy gulfs that tossed between. 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 Then from his lips in music rolled 360 
 
 The Havamal of Odin old, 
 
 With sounds mysterious as the roar 
 
 Of billows on a distant shore. 
 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 ''Do we not learn from runes and rhymes 365 
 
 Made by the gods in elder times, 
 And do not still the great Scalds teach 
 That silence better is than speech?" 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 SmiHng at this, the King replied, 370 
 
 ''Thy lore is by thy tongue behed; 
 For never was I so enthralled 
 Either by Saga-man or Scald." 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 The Bishop said, "Late hours we keep! 375 
 
 Night wanes, O King! 'tis time for sleep!" 
 Then slept the King, and when he woke 
 The guest was gone, the morning broke. 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 They found the doors securely barred, 380 
 
 They found the watch-dog in the yard, 
 There was no footprint in the grass, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 65 
 
 And none had seen the stranger pass. 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 King Olaf crossed himself and said: 385 
 
 "I know that Odin the Great is dead; 
 Sure is the triumph of our Faith, 
 The one-eyed stranger was his wraith." 
 Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 
 
 VII 
 IRON-BEARD 
 
 Olaf the King, one summer morn, 390 
 
 Blew a blast on his bugle-horn, 
 Sending his signal through the land of Drontheim. 
 
 And to the Hus-Ting held at Mere 
 Gathered the farmers far and near, 
 With their war weapons ready to confront him. 395 
 
 Ploughing under the morning star. 
 Old Iron-Beard in Yriar 
 Heard the summons, chuckling with a low laugh. 
 
 He wiped the sweat-drops from his brow. 
 Unharnessed his horses from the plough, 400 
 And clattering came on horseback to King Olaf. 
 
 He was the churHest of the churls; 
 Little he cared for king or earls: 
 Bitter as home-brewed ale were his foaming passions. 
 
66 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Hodden-gray was the garb he wore, 405 
 
 And by the Hammer of Thor he swore; 
 He hated the narrow town, and all its fashions. 
 
 But he loved the freedom of his farm, 
 His ale at night, by the fireside warm, 
 Gudrun his daughter, with her flaxen tresses. 410 
 
 He loved his horses and his herds, 
 The smell of the earth, and the song of birds, 
 His well-filled barns, his brook with its water-cresses. 
 
 Huge and cumbersome was his frame; 
 His beard, from which he took his name, 415 
 Frosty and fierce, like that of Hymer the Giant. 
 
 So at the Hus-Ting he appeared, 
 The farmer of Yriar, Iron-Beard, 
 On horseback, with an attitude defiant. 
 
 And to King Olaf he cried aloud, 420 
 
 Out of the middle of the crowd. 
 That tossed him about like a stormy ocean: 
 
 ^'Such sacrifices shalt thou bring; 
 To Odin and to Thor, O King, 
 As other kings have done in their devotion!" 425 
 
 King Olaf answered: "I command 
 This land to be a Christian land; 
 Here is my Bishop who the folk baptizes! 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 67 
 
 "But if you ask me to restore 
 Your sacrifices, stained with gore, 430 
 
 Then will I offer Jiuman sacrifices ! 
 
 *'Not slaves and peasants shall they be, 
 But men of note and high degree, 
 Such men as Orm of Lyra and Kar of Gryting!" 
 
 Then to their Temple strode he in, 435 
 
 And loud behind him heard the din 
 Of his men-at-arms and the peasants fiercely fighting. 
 
 There in the Temple, carved in wood, 
 The image of great Odin stood, 
 And other gods, with Thor supreme among them. 440 
 
 King Olaf smote them with the blade 
 Of his huge war-axe, gold inlaid, 
 And downward shattered to the pavement flung 
 them. 
 
 At the same moment rose without. 
 From the contending crowd, a shout, 445 
 
 A mingled sound of triumph and of wailing. 
 
 And there upon the trampled plain 
 The farmer Iron-Beard lay slain, 
 Midway between the assailed and the assailing. 
 
68 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 King Olaf from the doorway spoke: 450 
 
 "Choose ye between two things, my folk, 
 To be baptized or given up to slaughter!" 
 
 And seeing their leader stark and dead, 
 The people with a murmur said, 
 "O King, baptize us with thy holy water!" 455 
 
 So all the Drontheim land became 
 A Christian land in name and fame, 
 In the old gods no more believing and trusting. 
 
 And as a blood-atonement, soon 
 King Olaf wed the fair Gudrun; 460 
 
 And thus in peace ended the Drontheim Hus-Ting! 
 
 VIII 
 GUDRUN 
 
 On King Olaf's bridal night 
 Shines the moon with tender Hght, 
 And across the chamber streams 
 
 Its tide of dreams. 465 
 
 At the fatal midnight hour. 
 When all evil things have power, 
 In the glimmer of the moon 
 Stands Gudrun. 
 
 Close against her heaving breast, 470 
 
 Something in her hand is pressed; 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 69 
 
 Like an icicle, its sheen 
 Is Gold and keen. 
 
 On the cairn are fixed her eyes 
 Where her murdered father lies, 475 
 
 And a voice remote and drear 
 She seems to hear. 
 
 What a bridal night is this! 
 Cold will be the dagger's kiss; 
 Laden with the chill of death 480 
 
 Is its breath. 
 
 Like the drifting snow she sweeps 
 To the couch where Olaf sleeps; 
 Suddenly he wakes and stirs, 
 
 His eyes meet hers. 485 
 
 "What is that," King Olaf said, 
 "Gleams so bright above thy head? 
 Wherefore standest thou so white 
 In pale moonhght?" 
 
 " 'Tis the bodkin that I wear 49° 
 
 When at night I bind my hair; 
 It woke me falling on the floor; 
 'Tis nothing more." 
 
 "Forests have ears, and fields have eyes; 
 Often treachery lurking lies 495 
 
70 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Underneath the fairest hair! 
 Gudrun beware!" 
 
 Ere the earliest peep of morn 
 Blew King Olaf's bugle-horn; 
 And forever sundered ride 500 
 
 Bridegroom and bride! 
 
 IX 
 
 THANGBRAND THE PRIEST 
 
 Short of stature, large of limb, 
 Burly face and russet beard, 
 All the women stared at him, 
 When in Iceland he appeared. 505 
 
 ''Look!" they said. 
 With nodding head, 
 ''There goes Thangbrand, Olafs Priest." 
 
 All the prayers he knew by rote, 
 
 He could preach hke Chrysostome, 510 
 
 From the Fathers he could quote. 
 He had even been at Rome. 
 A learned clerk, 
 A man of mark. 
 Was this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 515 
 
 He was quarrelsome and loud, 
 
 And impatient of control. 
 Boisterous in the market crowd, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 71 
 
 Boisterous at the wassail-bowl 
 
 Everywhere 520 
 
 Would drink and swear, 
 Swaggering Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 
 
 In his house this malcontent 
 
 Could the King no longer bear, 
 So to Iceland he was sent 525 
 
 To convert the heathen there. 
 And away 
 One summer day 
 Sailed this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 
 
 There in Iceland, o'er their books 530 
 
 Pored the people day and night, 
 But he did not like their looks. 
 Nor the songs they used to write. 
 ''AH this rhyme 
 Is waste of time!" 535 
 
 Grumbled Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 
 
 To the alehouse, where he sat. 
 
 Came the Scalds and Saga-men; 
 Is it to be wondered at. 
 
 That they quarreled now and then, 540 
 
 When o'er his beer 
 Began to leer 
 Drunken Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest? 
 
 All the folk in Altafiord 
 
 Boasted of their island grand; 545 
 
72 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Saying in a single word, 
 ''Iceland is the finest land 
 
 That the sun 
 
 Doth shine upon!" 
 Loud laughed Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 550 
 
 And he answered: "What's the use 
 
 Of this bragging up and down, 
 When three women and one goose 
 Make a market in your town!" 
 
 Every Scald 555 
 
 Satires scrawled 
 On poor Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 
 
 Something worse they did than that; 
 
 And what vexed him most of all 
 Was a figure in shovel hat, 560 
 
 Drawn in charcoal on the wall; 
 With words that go 
 Sprawling below, 
 ''This is Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest." 
 
 Hardly knowing what he did, 565 
 
 Then he smote them might and main,' 
 Thorvald Veile and Veterlid 
 Lay there in the alehouse slain. 
 "To-day we are gold. 
 To-morrow mould!" 570 
 
 Muttered Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 73 
 
 Much in fear of axe and rope, 
 
 Back to Norway sailed he then. 
 O, King Olaf! little hope 
 
 Is there of these Iceland men!" 575 
 
 Meekly said, 
 With bending head. 
 Pious Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 
 
 X 
 RAUD THE STRONG 
 
 ''All the old gods are dead, 
 All the wild warlocks fled; 580 
 
 But the White Christ lives and reigns, 
 And throughout my wide domains 
 His Gospel shall be spread!" 
 
 On the Evangelists 
 
 Thus swore King Olaf. 585 
 
 But still in dreams of the night 
 
 Beheld he the crimson light, 
 
 And heard the voice that defied 
 
 Him who was crucified. 
 
 And challenged him to the fight. 590 
 
 To Sigurd the Bishop 
 
 King Olaf confessed it. 
 
 And Sigurd the Bishop said, 
 "The old gods are not dead, 
 For the great Thor still reigns, 595 
 
74 
 
 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 And among the Jarls and Thanes 
 The old witchcraft still is spread." 
 
 Thus to King Olaf 
 
 Said Sigurd the Bishop. 
 
 ''Far north in the Salten Fiord, 600 
 
 By rapine, fire, and sword, 
 Lives the viking, Raud the Strong; 
 All the Godoe Isles belong 
 To him and his heathen horde." 
 
 Thus went on speaking 605 
 
 Sigurd the Bishop. 
 
 ''A warlock, a wizard is he, 
 And lord of the wind and the sea; 
 And whichever way he sails, 
 He has ever favoring gales, 610 
 
 By his craft in sorcery." 
 
 Here the sign of the cross made 
 
 Devoutly King Olaf. 
 
 "With rites that we both abhor, 
 He worships Odin and Thor; 615 
 
 So it cannot yet be said. 
 That all the old gods are dead. 
 And the warlocks are no more," 
 
 Flushing with anger 
 
 Said Sigurd the Bishop. 620 
 
 Then King Olaf cried aloud; 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 75 
 
 *'I will talk with this mighty Raud, 
 And along the Salten Fiord 
 Preach the Gospel with my sword, 
 Or be brought back in my shroud!" 625 
 
 So northward from Drontheim 
 
 Sailed King Olaf! 
 
 XI 
 
 BISHOP SIGURD AT SALTEN FIORD 
 
 Loud the angry wind was wailing 
 As King Olaf's ships came sailing 
 Northward out of Drontheim haven 630 
 
 To the mouth of Salten Fiord. 
 
 Though the flying sea-spray drenches 
 Fore and aft the rowers' benches, 
 Not a single heart is craven 
 
 Of the champions there on board. 635 
 
 All without the Fiord -was quiet, 
 But within it storm and riot, 
 Such as on his Viking cruises 
 
 Raud the Strong was wont to ride. 
 
 And the sea through all its tide-ways 640 
 
 Swept the reeling vessels sideways, 
 As the leaves are swept through sluices. 
 When the flood-gates open wide. 
 
76 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 " 'Tis the warlock! 'tis the demon 
 
 Raud!" cried Sigurd to the seamen; 645 
 
 ''But the Lord is not affrighted 
 
 By the witchcraft of His foes." 
 
 To the ship's bow he ascended, 
 By his choristers attended, 
 
 Round him were the tapers lighted, 650 
 
 And the sacred incense rose. 
 
 On the bow stood Bishop Sigurd, 
 In his robes, as one transfigured, 
 And the Crucifix he planted 
 
 High amid the rain and mist. 655 
 
 Then with holy water sprinkled 
 All the ship; the mass-bells tinkled: 
 Loud the monks around him chanted, 
 Loud he read the Evangelist. 
 
 As into the Fiord they darted, 660 
 
 On each side the w^ater parted; 
 Down a path like silver molten 
 
 Steadily rowed King Olaf's ships; 
 
 Steadily burned all night the tapers, 
 And the White Christ through the vapors 665 
 Gleamed across the Fiord of Salten, 
 As through John's Apocalypse — 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 77 
 
 Till at last they reached Raud's dwelling 
 On the little isle of GeUing; 
 
 Not a guard was at the doorway, 670 
 
 Not a glimmer of light was seen. 
 
 But at anchor, carved and gilded. 
 Lay the dragon-ship he builded; 
 'Twas the grandest ship in Norway, 
 
 With its crest and scales of green. 675 
 
 Up the stairway, softly creeping, 
 To the loft w^here Raud was sleeping, 
 With their fists they burst asunder 
 Bolt and bar that held the door. 
 
 Drunken with sleep and ale they found him, 680 
 Dragged him from his bed and bound him, 
 While he stared with stupid wonder, 
 At the look and garb they wore. 
 
 Then King Olaf said: ''O Sea-King! 
 Little time have we for speaking, 685 
 
 Choose between the good and evil; 
 Be baptized, or thou shalt die!" 
 
 But in scorn the heathen scoffer 
 
 Answered: *T disdain thine offer; 
 
 Neither fear I God nor Devil; 690 
 
 Thee and thy Gospel I defy!" 
 
78 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Then between his jaws distended, 
 When his frantic struggles ended, 
 Through King Olaf's horn an adder, 
 
 Touched by fire, they forced to ghde. 695 
 
 Sharp his tooth was as an arrow, 
 
 As he gnawed through bone and marrow; 
 
 But without a groan or shudder, 
 
 Raud the Strong blaspheming died. 
 
 Then baptized they all that region, 700 
 
 Swarthy Lap and fair Norwegian, 
 Far as swims the salmon, leaping, 
 Up the streams of Salten Fiord. 
 
 In their temples Thor and Odin 
 
 Lay in dust and ashes trodden, 705 
 
 As King Olaf, onward sweeping. 
 
 Preached the Gospel with his sword. 
 
 •Then he took the carved and gilded 
 Dragon-ship that Raud had builded, 
 And the tiller single-handed, 710 
 
 Grasping, steered into the main. 
 
 Southward sailed the sea-gulls o'er him. 
 Southward sailed the ship that bore him, 
 Till at Drontheim haven landed 
 
 Olaf and his crew again. 715 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 79 
 
 xn 
 
 KING OLAF'S CHRISTMAS 
 
 At Drontheim, Olaf the King 
 Heard the bells of Yule-tide ring, 
 
 As he sat in his banquet-hall, 
 Drinking the nut-brown ale, 
 With his bearded Berserks hale 720 
 
 And tall. 
 
 Three days his Yule-tide feasts 
 He held with Bishops and Priests, 
 
 And his horn filled up to the brim; 
 But the ale was never too strong, 725 
 
 Nor the Saga-man's tale too long, 
 
 For him. 
 
 O'er his drinking-horn, the sign 
 He made of the cross divine. 
 
 As he drank, and muttered his prayers; 730 
 But the Berserks evermore 
 Made the sign of the Hammer of Thor 
 
 Over theirs. 
 
 The gleams of the fire-light dance 
 
 Upon the helmet and hauberk and lance, 735 
 
 And laugh in the eyes of the King; 
 And he cries to Halfred the Scald, 
 Gray-bearded, wrinkled, and bald, 
 
 "Sing!" 
 
8o TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 ''Sing me a song divine, 
 With a sword in every line, 
 
 And this shall be thy reward." 
 And he loosened the belt at his waist, 
 And in front of the singer placed 
 
 His sword. 
 
 "Quern-biter of Hakon the Good, 
 Wherewith at a stroke he hewed. 
 
 The millstone through and through. 
 And Footbreadth of Thoralf the Strong, 
 Were neither so broad nor so long. 
 Nor so true.' 
 
 Then the Scald took his harp and sang, 
 And loud through the music rang 
 
 The sound of that shining word 
 And the harp-strings a clangor made, 
 As if they were struck with the blade 
 
 Of a sword. 
 
 And the Berserks round about 
 Broke forth into a shout 
 
 That made the rafters ring: 
 They smote with their fists on the board, 
 And shouted, "Long live the Sword, 
 
 And the King!" 
 
 But the King said, "O my son, 
 I miss the bright word in one 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 8i 
 
 Of thy measures and thy rhymes." 
 And Halfred the Scald repKed, 
 "In another 'twas multipKed 
 Three times." 
 
 Then King Olaf raised the hilt 770 
 
 Of iron, cross-shaped and gilt, 
 And said, "Do not refuse; 
 Count well the gain and the loss, 
 Thor's hammer or Christ's cross: 
 
 Choose!" 775 
 
 And Halfred the Scald said, ^'This 
 In the name of the Lord I kiss, 
 
 Who on it was crucified!" 
 And a shout went round the board, 
 "In the name of Christ the Lord, 780 
 
 Who died!" 
 
 Then over the waste of snows 
 The noonday sun uprose, 
 
 Through the driving mists revealed. 
 Like the Hfting of the Host, 785 
 
 By incense-clouds almost 
 
 Concealed. 
 
 On the shining wall a vast 
 And shadowy cross was cast 
 
 From the hills of the lifted sword, 790 
 
 And in foaming cups of ale 
 
82 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 The Berserks drank *'Was-hael! 
 To the Lord!" 
 
 XIII 
 
 THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT 
 
 Thorberg Skafting, master-builder, 
 
 In his ship-yard by the sea, 795 
 
 Whistled, saying, " 'Twould bewilder 
 Any man but Thorberg Skafting, 
 
 Any man but me!" 
 
 Near him lay the Dragon stranded, 
 
 Built of old by Raud the Strong, 800 
 
 And King Olaf had commanded 
 He should build another Dragon, 
 
 Twice as large and long. 
 
 Therefore whistled Thorberg Skafting, 
 
 As he sat with half-closed eyes, 805 
 
 And his head turned sideways, drafting 
 
 That new vessel for King Olaf 
 Twice the Dragon's size. 
 
 Round him busily hewed and hammered 
 
 Mallet huge and heavy axe: 810 
 
 Workmen laughed, and sang and clamored 
 Whirred the wheels, that into rigging 
 Spun the shining flax! 
 
 All this tumult heard the master — 
 
 It was music to his ear; 815 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 83 
 
 Fancy whispered all the faster, 
 "Men shall hear of Thorberg Skafting 
 For a hundred year!" 
 
 Workmen sweating at the forges 
 
 Fashioned iron bolt and bar, 820 
 
 Like a warlock's midnight orgies 
 Smoked and bubbled the black caldron 
 
 With the boiling tar. 
 
 Did the warlocks mingle in it, 
 
 Thorberg Skafting, any curse? 825 
 
 Could you not be gone a minute 
 But some mischief must be doing, 
 
 Turning bad to worse? 
 
 'Twas an ill wind that came wafting, 
 
 From his homestead words of woe; 830 
 
 To his farm went Thorberg Skafting, 
 
 Oft repeating to his workmen, 
 Build ye thus and so. 
 
 After long delays returning 
 
 Came the master back by night; 835 
 
 To his ship-yard longing, yearning. 
 Hurried he, and did not leave it 
 
 Till the morning's light. 
 
 ''Come and see my ship, my darhngl" 
 
 On the morrow said the King; 840 
 
84 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 "Finished now from keel to carling; 
 Never yet was seen in Norway 
 Such a wondrous thing!" 
 
 In the ship-yard, idly talking, 
 
 At the ship the workmen stared: 845 
 
 Some one, all their labor balking, 
 Down her side had cut deep gashes, 
 
 Not a plank was spared! 
 
 "Death be to the evil-doer!" 
 
 With an oath King Olaf spoke; 850 
 
 "But rewards to his pursuer!" 
 And with wrath his face grew redder 
 
 Than his scarlet cloak. 
 
 Straight the master-builder, smiling, 
 
 Answered thus the angry King: 855 
 
 'Cease blaspheming and revihng, 
 Olaf, it was Thorberg Skafting 
 
 Who has done this thing!" 
 
 Then he chipped and smoothed the planking. 
 Till the King, delighted, swore, 680 
 
 With much lauding and much thanking, 
 "Handsomer is now my Dragon 
 Than she was before!" 
 
 Seventy ells and four extended 
 
 On the grass the vessel's keel; 865 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 85 
 
 High above it, gilt and splendid, 
 Rose the figure-head ferocious 
 With its crest of steel. 
 
 Then they launched her from the tre-sels, 
 
 In the ship-yard by the sea; 870 
 
 She was grandest of all vessels. 
 
 Never ship was built in Norway 
 Half so fine as she! 
 
 The Long Serpent was she christened, 
 
 'Mid the roar of cheer on cheer! 875 
 
 They who to the Saga Hstened 
 Heard the name of Thorberg Skafting 
 For a hundred year! 
 
 XIV 
 THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT 
 
 Safe at harbor in Drontheim bay 
 
 King Olaf's fleet assembled lay, 880 
 
 And, striped with white and blue, 
 Downward fluttered sail and banner. 
 As alights the screaming lanner; 
 Lustily cheered, in their wild manner, 
 
 The Long Serpent's crew. 885 
 
 Her forecastle man was Ulf the Red; 
 Like a wolf's was his shaggy head. 
 His teeth as large and white; 
 
86 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 His beard, of gray and russet blended, 
 Round as a swallow's nest descended; 890 
 
 As standard-bearer he defended 
 Olaf's flag in the fight. 
 
 Near him Kolbiorn had his place. 
 Like the King in garb and face, 
 
 So gallant and so hale; 859 
 
 Every cabin-boy and varlet 
 Wondered at his cloak of scarlet; 
 Like a river, frozen and star-lit, 
 
 Gleamed his coat of mail. 
 
 By the bulkhead, tall and dark, 900 
 
 Stood Thrand Rame of Thelemark, 
 
 A figure gaunt and grand; 
 On his hoary arm imprinted 
 Was an anchor, azure-tinted; 
 Like Thor's hammer, huge and dinted 905 
 
 Was his brawny hand. 
 
 Einar Tamberskelver, bare 
 To the winds his golden hair, 
 
 By the mainmast stood; 
 Graceful was his form, and slender, 910 
 
 And his eyes were deep and tender 
 As a woman's, in the splendor 
 
 Of her maidenhood. 
 
 In the fore-hold Boirn and Bork 
 
 Watched the sailors at their work: 915 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 87 
 
 Heavens! how they swore! 
 Thirty men they each commanded, 
 Iron-sinewed, horny-handed, 
 Shoulders broad, and chests expanded. 
 
 Tugging at the oar. 920 
 
 These, and many more Hke these. 
 With King Olaf sailed the seas, 
 
 Till the waters vast 
 Filled them with a vague devotion. 
 With the freedom and the motion, 925 
 
 With the roll and roar of ocean 
 
 And the sounding blast. 
 
 When they landed from the fleet. 
 
 How they roared through Drontheim's street. 
 
 Boisterous as the gale! 93° 
 
 How they laughed and stamped and pounded, 
 Till the tavern roof resounded, 
 And the host looked on astounded, 
 
 As they drank the ale! 
 
 Never saw the wild North Sea, 935 
 
 Such a gallant company 
 
 Sail its billows blue! 
 Never, while they cruised and quarrelled, 
 Old King Gorm, or Blue-Tooth Harold, 
 Owned a ship so well apparelled, 940 
 
 Boasted such a crew! 
 
88 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 XV 
 A LITTLE BIRD IN THE AIR 
 
 A little bird in the air 
 
 Is singing of Thyri the fair, 
 
 The sister of Svend the Dane; 
 
 And the song of the garrulous bird 945 
 
 In the streets of the town is heard, 
 
 And repeated again and again. 
 
 Hoist up your sails of silk. 
 
 And flee away from each other. 
 
 To King Burislaf, it is said, 950 
 
 Was the beautiful Thyri wed, 
 
 And a sorrowful bride went she; 
 And after a week and a day. 
 She has fled away and away. 
 
 From his town by the stormy sea. 955 
 
 Hoist up your sails of silk. 
 And flee away from each other. 
 
 They say, that through heat and through cold. 
 Through weald, they say, and through wold, 
 
 By day and by night, they say, 960 
 
 She has fled; and the gossips report 
 
 She has come to King Olaf's court, 
 
 And the town is all in dismay. 
 
 Hoist up your sails of silk, 
 
 And flee away from each other. 965 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 89 
 
 It is whispered King Olaf has seen, 
 Has talked with the beautiful Queen; 
 
 And they wonder how it will end; 
 For surely, if here she remain, 
 It is war with King Svend the Dane, 970 
 
 And King Burislaf the Vend! 
 Hoist up your sails of silk, 
 And flee away from each other. 
 
 O, greatest wonder of all! 
 
 It is published in hamlet and hall, 975 
 
 It roars like a flame that is fanned! 
 The King — yes, Olaf the King — 
 Has wedded her with his ring,- 
 And Thyri is Queen in the land! 
 
 Hoist up your sails of silk, 980 
 
 And flee away from each other. 
 
 XVI 
 QUEEN THYRI AND THE ANGELICA STALKS 
 
 Northward over Drontheim, 
 Flew the clamorous sea-gulls. 
 Sang the lark and linnet 
 
 From the meadows green; 985 
 
 Weeping in her chamber. 
 Lonely and unhappy, 
 Sat the Drottning Thyri, 
 Sat King Olaf's Queen. 
 
90 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 In at all the windows 990 
 
 Streamed the pleasant sunshine, 
 On the roof above her 
 Softly cooed the dove; 
 
 But the sound she heard not, 
 Nor the sunshine heeded, 995 
 
 For the thoughts of Thyri 
 Were not thoughts of love. 
 
 Then King Olaf entered. 
 Beautiful as morning, 
 Like the sun at Easter 1000 
 
 Shone his happy face; 
 
 In his hand he carried 
 Angelicas uprooted, 
 With delicious fragrance 
 
 Filling all the place. 1005 
 
 Like a rainy midnight 
 Sat the Drottning Thyri, 
 Even the smile of Olaf 
 
 Could not cheer her gloom; 
 
 Nor the stalks he gave her 10 10 
 
 With a gracious gesture. 
 And with words as pleasant 
 As their own perfume. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 91 
 
 In her hand she placed them, 
 And her jewelled fingers 1015 
 
 Through the green leaves glistened 
 Like the dews of morn; 
 
 But she cast them from her, 
 Haughty and indignant, 
 On the floor she threw them 1020 
 
 With a look of scorn. 
 
 "Richer presents," said she, 
 ''Gave King Harald Gormson 
 To the Queen, my mother. 
 
 Than such worthless weeds; 1025 
 
 "When he ravaged Norway, 
 Laying waste the kingdom, 
 Seizing scatt and treasure 
 For her royal needs. 
 
 "But thou darest not venture 1030 
 
 Through the Sound to Vendland, 
 My domains to rescue 
 From King Burislaf; 
 
 "Lest King Svend of Denmark, 
 Forked Beard, my brother, 1035 
 
 Scatter all thy vessels 
 As the wind the chaff." 
 
Q2 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Then up sprang King Olaf 
 Like a reindeer bounding, 
 With an oath he answered 1040 
 
 Thus the luckless Queen: 
 
 ''Never yet did Olaf 
 Fear King Svend of Denmark; 
 This right hand shall hale him 
 
 By his forked chin!" 1045 
 
 Then he left the chamber, 
 Thundering through the doorway, 
 Loud his steps resounded 
 Down the outer stair. 
 
 Smarting with the insult, 1050 
 
 Through the streets of Drontheim 
 Strode he red and wrathful. 
 With his stately air. 
 
 All his ships he gathered, 
 Summoned all his forces, 1055 
 
 Making his war levy 
 In the region round; 
 
 Down the coast of Norway, 
 Like a flock of sea-gulls, 
 Sailed the fleet of Olaf, 1060 
 
 Through the Danish Sound. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 93 
 
 With his own hand fearless, 
 Steered he the Long Serpent, 
 Strained the creaking cordage, 
 
 Bent each boom and gaff; 1065 
 
 Till in Vendland landing. 
 The domains of Thyri 
 He redeemed and rescued 
 From King Burislaf. 
 
 Then said Olaf, laughing, 1070 
 
 *'Not ten yoke of oxen 
 Have the power to draw us 
 Like a woman's hair! 
 
 ''Now will I confess it, 
 Better things are jewels 1075 
 
 Than angelica stalks are 
 For a Queen to wear." 
 
 XVII 
 KING SVEND OF THE FORKED BEARD 
 
 Loudly the sailors cheered 
 
 Svend of the Forked Beard, 
 
 As with his fleet he steered 1080 
 
 Southward to Vendland; 
 Where with their courses hauled 
 All were together called, 
 Under the Isle of Svald 
 
 Near to the mainland. 1085 
 
94 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 After Queen Gunhild's death, 
 So the old Saga saith, 
 Plighted King Svend his faith 
 
 To Sigrid the Haughty; 
 And to avenge his bride, 1090 
 
 Soothing her wounded pride. 
 Over the waters wide 
 
 King Olaf sought he. 
 
 Still on her scornful face. 
 
 Blushing with deep disgrace, 1095 
 
 Bore she the crimson trace 
 
 Of Olaf's gauntlet; 
 Like a malignant star, 
 Blazing in heaven afar. 
 Red shone the angry scar iioo 
 
 Under her frontlet. 
 
 Oft to King Svend she spake, 
 "For thine own honor's sake 
 Shalt thou swift vengeance take 
 
 On the vile coward!" 1105 
 
 Until the King at last. 
 Gusty and overcast, 
 Like a tempestuous blast 
 Threatened and lowered. 
 
 Soon as the Spring appeared, mo 
 
 Svend of the Forked Beard 
 High his red standard reared. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 95 
 
 Eager for battle; 
 While every warlike Dane, 
 Seizing his arms again, 1115 
 
 Left all unsown the grain. 
 
 Unhoused the cattle. 
 
 Likewise the Swedish King 
 
 Summoned in haste a Thing, 
 
 Weapons and men to bring 1120 
 
 In aid of Denmark; 
 Eric the Norseman, too. 
 As the war-tidings flew. 
 Sailed with a chosen crew 
 
 From Lapland and Finmark. 1125 
 
 So upon Easter day 
 
 Sailed the three kings away, 
 
 Out of the sheltered bay. 
 
 In the bright season; 
 With them Earl Sigvald came, 1130 
 
 Eager for spoil and fame; 
 Pity that such a name 
 
 Stooped to such treason! 
 
 Safe under Svald at last, 
 
 Now were their anchors cast, 1135 
 
 Safe from the sea and blast. 
 
 Plotted the three kings; 
 While, with a base intent, 
 Southward Earl Sigvald went. 
 
96 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 On a foul errand bent, 1140 
 
 Unto the Sea-kings. 
 
 Thence to hold on his course, 
 Unto King Olaf's force, 
 Lying within the hoarse 
 
 Mouths of Stet-haven; 1145 
 
 Him to ensnare and bring, 
 Unto the Danish king. 
 Who his dead corse would fling 
 
 Forth to the raven! 
 
 XVIII 
 KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD 
 
 On the gray sea-sands 1150 
 
 King Olaf stands, 
 Northward and seaward 
 He points with his hands. 
 
 With eddy and whirl 
 
 The sea-tides curl, 1155 
 
 Washing the sandals 
 
 Of Sigvald the Earl. 
 
 The mariners shout, 
 
 The ships swing about. 
 
 The yards are all hoisted, 11 60 
 
 The sails flutter out. 
 
 I 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 97 
 
 The war-horns are played, 
 
 The anchors are weighed, 
 
 Like moths in the distance 
 
 The sails flit and fade. 11 65 
 
 The sea is hke lead. 
 The harbor lies dead. 
 As a corse on the sea-shore, 
 Whose spirit has fled! 
 
 On that fatal day, 11 70 
 
 The histories say, 
 Seventy vessels 
 Sailed out of the bay. 
 
 But soon scattered wide 
 
 O'er the billows they ride, 1175 
 
 While Sigvald and Olaf 
 
 Sail side by side. 
 
 Cried the Earl: ''Follow me! 
 
 I your pilot will be. 
 
 For I know all the channels 1180 
 
 Where flows the deep sea!" 
 
 So into the strait 
 
 Where his foes lie in wait, 
 
 Gallant King Olaf 
 
 Sails to his fate! 1185 
 
98 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Then the sea-fog veils 
 The ships and their sails; 
 Queen Sigrid the Haughty, 
 Thy vengeance prevails! 
 
 XIX 
 
 KING OLAF's war-horns 
 
 "Strike the sails!" King Olaf said; 1190 
 
 ''Never shall men of mine take flight; 
 
 Never from battle I fled, 
 
 Never away from my foes! 
 Let God dispose 
 
 Of my life in the fight!" 1195 
 
 Sound the horns!" said Olaf the King; 
 And suddenly through the drifting brume 
 The blare of the horns began to ring, 
 Like the terrible trumpet shock 
 
 Of Regnarock, 1200 
 
 On the Day of Doom! 
 
 Louder and louder the war-horns sang 
 
 Over the level floor of the flood; 
 
 All the sails came down with a clang. 
 
 And there in the mist overhead 1205 
 
 The sun hung red 
 As a drop of blood. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 99 
 
 Drifting down on the Danish fleet 
 
 Three together the ships were lashed, 
 
 So that neither should turn and retreat; 1210 
 
 In the midst, but in front of the rest 
 
 The burnished crest 
 Of the Serpent flashed. 
 
 King Olaf stood on the quarter-deck. 
 
 With bow of ash and arrows of oak, 1215 
 
 His gilded shield was without a fleck, 
 
 His helmet inlaid with gold. 
 
 And in many a fold 
 Hung his crimson cloak. 
 
 On the forecastle Ulf the Red 1220 
 
 Watched the lashing of the ships; 
 "If the Serpent lie so far ahead. 
 We shall have hard work of it here," 
 
 Said he with a sneer 
 On his bearded lips. 1225 
 
 King Olaf laid an arrow on string, 
 ''Have I a coward on board?" said he. 
 "Shoot it another way, O King!" 
 
 Sullenly answered Ulf, 
 
 The old sea-wolf; 1230 
 
 "You have need of me!" 
 
 In front came Svend, the King of the Danes, 
 Sweeping down with his fifty rowers; 
 
 LOFC 
 
o TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 To the right, the Swedish king with his thanes; 
 And on board of the Iron Beard 1235 
 
 Earl Eric steered 
 On the left with his oars. 
 
 These soft Danes and Swedes," said the King, 
 At home with their wives had better stay. 
 Than come within reach of my Serpent's sting: 
 But where Eric the Norseman leads 1241 
 
 Heroic deeds 
 Will be done to-day!" 
 
 Then as together the vessels crashed, 
 Eric severed the cables of hide, 1245 
 
 With which King Olaf's ships were lashed, 
 And left them to drive and drift 
 
 With the currents swift 
 Of the outward tide. 
 
 Louder the war-horns growl and snarl, 1250 
 
 Sharper the dragons bite and sting! 
 Eric the son of Hakon Jarl 
 A death-drink salt as the sea 
 
 Pledges to thee, 
 Olaf the King! 1255 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN loi 
 
 XX 
 
 EINAR TAMBERSKELVER 
 
 It was Einar Tamberskelver 
 
 Stood beside the mast; 
 From his yew-bow tipped with silver, 
 
 Flew the arrows fast; 
 Aimed at Eric unavailing, 1260 
 
 As he sat concealed. 
 Half behind the quarter-railing, 
 
 Half behind his shield. 
 
 First an arrow struck the tiller, 
 
 Just above his head; 1265 
 
 "Sing, O Eyvind Skaldaspiller," 
 
 Then Earl Eric said. 
 "Sing the song of Hakon dying, 
 Sing his funeral wail!" 
 And another arrow flying 1270 
 
 Grazed his coat of mail. 
 
 Turning to a Lapland yeoman, 
 
 As the arrow passed, 
 Said Earl Eric, "Shoot that bowman 
 
 Standing by the mast." 1275 
 
 Sooner than the word was spoken 
 
 Flew the yeoman's shaft; 
 Einar's bow in twain was broken, 
 
 Einar only laughed. 
 
> TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 ''What was that?" said Olaf, standing 1280 
 
 On the quarter-deck. 
 "Something heard I hke the stranding 
 Of a shattered wreck." 
 Einar then, the arrow taking 
 
 From the loosened string, 1285 
 
 Answered, "That was Norway breaking 
 From thy hand, O King!" 
 
 "Thou art but a poor diviner," 
 
 Straightway Olaf said; 
 "Take thy bow, and swifter, Einar, 1290 
 
 Let thy shafts be sped." 
 Of his bows the fairest choosing, 
 
 Reached he from above; 
 Einar saw the blood-drops oozing 
 
 Through his iron glove. 1295 
 
 But the bow was thin and narrow; 
 
 At the first assay, 
 O'er its head he drew the arrow. 
 
 Flung the bow away; 
 Said, with hot and angry temper 1300 
 
 Flushing in his cheek, 
 "Olaf! for so great a Kamper 
 
 Are thy bows too weak!" 
 
 Then, with smile of joy defiant 
 
 On his beardless hp, 1305 
 
 Scaled he, light and self-reliant, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 103 
 
 Eric's dragon-ship. 
 Loose his golden locks were flowing, 
 
 Bright his armor gleamed; 
 Like Saint Michael overthrowing 1310 
 
 Lucifer he seemed. 
 
 XXI 
 KING OLAF'S death-drink 
 
 All day has the battle raged, 
 All day have the ships engaged, 
 But not yet is assuaged 
 The vengeance of Eric the Earl. 13 15 
 
 The decks with blood are red, 
 The arrows of death are sped, 
 The ships are filled with the dead, 
 And the spears the champions hurl. 
 
 They drift as wrecks on the tide, 1320 
 
 The grappling-irons are plied. 
 The boarders cHmb up the side, 
 The shouts are feeble and few. 
 
 Ah! never shall Norway again 
 See her sailors come back o'er the main ; 1325 
 They all lie wounded or slain, 
 Or asleep in the billows blue! 
 
 On the deck stands Olaf the King, 
 Around him whistle and sing 
 
I04 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 The spears that the foemen fling, 1330 
 
 And the stones they hurl with their hands. 
 
 In the midst of the stones and the spears, 
 Kolbiorn, the marshal, appears, 
 His shield in the air he uprears. 
 
 By the side of King Olaf he stands. 1335 
 
 Over the slippery wreck 
 Of the Long Serpent's deck 
 Sweeps Eric with hardly a check, 
 His lips w4th anger are pale; 
 
 He hews with his axe at the mast, 1340 
 
 Till it falls, with the sails overcast, 
 Like a snow-covered pine in the vast 
 Dim forests of Orkadale. 
 
 Seeking King Olaf then. 
 
 He rushes aft with his men, 1345 
 
 As a hunter into the den 
 
 Of the bear, when he stands at bay. 
 
 ''Remember Jarl Hakon!" he cries; 
 When lo! on his wondering eyes. 
 Two kingly figures arise, 1350 
 
 Two Olafs in warlike array! 
 
 Then Kolbiorn speaks in the ear 
 Of King Olaf a word of cheer, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 105 
 
 In a whisper that none may hear, 
 
 With a smile on his tremulous lip; 1355 
 
 Two shields raised high in the air, 
 Two flashes of golden hair, 
 Two scarlet meteors' glare, 
 
 And both have leaped from the ship. 
 
 Earl Eric's men in the boats 1360 
 
 Seize Kolbiorn's shield as it floats. 
 And cry, from their hoary throats, 
 ''See! it is Olaf the King!" 
 
 While far on the opposite side 
 Floats another shield on the tide, 1365 
 
 Like a jewel set in the wide 
 Sea-current's eddying ring. 
 
 There is told a wonderful tale, 
 How the King stripped off his mail. 
 Like leaves of the brown sea-kale, 1370 
 
 As he swam beneath the main; 
 
 But the young grew old and gray, 
 And never, by night or by day. 
 In his kingdom of Norroway 
 Was King Olaf seen again! 1375 
 
io6 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 xxn 
 
 THE NUN OF NIDAROS 
 
 In the convent of Drontheim, 
 
 Alone in her chamber 
 
 Knelt Astrid the Abbess, 
 
 At midnight, adoring. 
 
 Beseeching, entreating 1380 
 
 The Virgin and Mother. 
 
 She heard in the silence 
 
 The voice of one speaking. 
 
 Without in the darkness, 
 
 In gusts of the night-wind 1385 
 
 Now louder, now nearer. 
 
 Now lost in the distance. 
 
 The voice of a stranger 
 
 It seemed as she listened. 
 
 Of some one who answered, 1390 
 
 Beseeching, imploring, 
 
 A cry from afar off 
 
 She could not distinguish. 
 
 The voice of Saint John, 
 
 The beloved disciple, 1395 
 
 Who wandered and waited 
 
 The Master's appearance. 
 
 Alone in the darkness. 
 
 Unsheltered and friendless. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 107 
 
 ^'It is accepted 1400 
 
 The angry defiance, 
 The challenge of battle! 
 It is accepted, 
 But not with the weapons 
 Of war that thou wieldest! 1405 
 
 "Cross against corselet, 
 Love against hatred. 
 Peace-cry for war-cry! 
 Patience is powerful; 
 He that o'ercometh 141° 
 
 Hath power o'er the nations! 
 
 "As torrents in summer. 
 Half dried in their channels, 
 Suddenly rise, though the 
 Sky is still cloudless, 14 15 
 
 For rain has been falling 
 Far off at their fountains: 
 
 "So hearts that are fainting 
 Grow full to o'erflowing. 
 And they that behold it 1420 
 
 Marvel, and know not 
 That God at their fountains 
 Far off has been raining! 
 
 "Stronger than steel 
 Is the sword of the Spirit; 1425 
 
[o8 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Swifter than arrows 
 The Hght of the truth is, 
 Greater than anger 
 Is love, and subdueth! 
 
 "Thou art a phantom, 1430 
 
 A shape of the sea-mist, 
 A shape of the brumal 
 Rain, and the darkness 
 Fearful and formless; 
 Day dawns and thou art not! 1435 
 
 ^ 
 
 The dawn is not distant, 
 
 Nor is the night starless; 
 
 Love is eternal! 
 
 God is still God, and 
 
 His faith shall not fail us; 1440 
 
 Christ is eternal!" 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 A strain of music closed the tale, 
 A low, monotonous, funeral wail, 
 That with its cadence, wild and sweet, 
 Made the long Saga more complete. 
 
 "Thank God," the Theologian said, 
 "The reign of violence is dead, 
 Or dying surely from the world; 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 109 
 
 While Love triumphant reigns instead, 
 
 And in a brighter sky o'erhead 
 
 His blessed banners are unfurled. 10 
 
 And most of all thank God for this: 
 
 The war and waste of clashing creeds 
 
 Now end in words, and not in deeds, 
 
 And no one suffers loss, or bleeds, 
 
 For thoughts that men call heresies. 15 
 
 'I stand without here in the porch, 
 I hear the bell's melodious din, 
 I hear the organ peal within, 
 I hear the prayer, with words that scorch 
 Like sparks from an inverted torch, 20 
 
 I hear the sermon upon sin. 
 With threatenings of the last account. 
 And all, translated in the air, 
 Reach me but as our dear Lord's Prayer, 
 And as the Sermon on the Mount. 25 
 
 ''Must it be Calvin, and not Christ? 
 Must it be Athanasian creeds. 
 Or holy water, books, and beads ? 
 Must strugghng souls remain content 
 With councils and decrees of Trent? 30 
 
 And can it be enough for these 
 The Christian Church the year embalms 
 With evergreens and boughs and palms. 
 And fill the air with Utanies ? 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 ''I know that yonder Pharisee 35 
 
 Thanks God that he is not Uke me; 
 In my humiUation dressed, 
 I only stand and beat my breast, 
 And pray for human charity. 
 
 "Not to one church alone, but seven, 40 
 
 The voice prophetic spake from heaven; 
 And unto each the promise came, 
 Diversified, but still the same; 
 For him that overcometh are 
 The new name written on the stone, 45 
 
 The raiment white, the crown, the throne, 
 And I will give him the Morning Star! 
 
 "Ah! to how many Faith has been 
 No evidence of things unseen. 
 But a dim shadow, that recasts 50 
 
 The creed of the Phantasiasts, 
 For whom no Man of Sorrows died. 
 For whom the Tragedy Divine 
 Was but a symbol and a sign. 
 And Christ a phantom crucified! ' 55 
 
 "For others a diviner creed 
 Is Hving in the life they lead. 
 The passing of their beautiful feet 
 Blesses the pavement of the street. 
 And air their looks and words repeat 60 
 
 Old Fuller's saying, wise and sweet, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN iii 
 
 Not as a vulture, but a dove, 
 The Holy Ghost came from above. 
 
 "And this brings back to me a tale 
 So sad the hearer v^ell may quail, 65 
 
 And question if such things can be; 
 Yet in the chronicles of Spain 
 Down the dark pages runs this stain, 
 And naught can wash them white again. 
 So fearful is the tragedy." 70 
 
 THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE 
 
 TORQUEMADA 
 
 In the heroic days when Ferdinand 
 
 And Isabella ruled the Spanish land, 
 
 And Torquemada, with his subtle brain, 
 
 Ruled them, as Grand Inquisitor of Spain, 
 
 In a great castle near Valladolid, 5 
 
 Moated and high and by fair woodlands hid. 
 
 There dwelt, as from the chronicles we learn. 
 
 An old Hidalgo proud and taciturn. 
 
 Whose name has perished, with his towers of stone. 
 
 And all his actions save this one alone; to 
 
 This one, so terrible, perhaps 'twere best 
 
 If it, too, were forgotten with the rest; 
 
 Unless, perchance, our eyes can see therein 
 
 The martyrdom triumphant o'er the sin; 
 
112 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 A double picture, with its gloom and glow, 15 
 
 The splendor overhead, the death below. 
 
 This sombre man counted each day as lost 
 
 On which his feet no sacred threshold crossed; 
 
 And when he chanced the passing Host to meet. 
 
 He knelt and prayed devoutly in the street; 20 
 
 Oft he confessed; and with each mutinous thought. 
 
 As with wild beasts at Ephesus, he fought. 
 
 In deep contrition scourged himself in Lent, 
 
 Walked in processions, with his head down bent. 
 
 At plays of Corpus Christi oft was seen, 25 
 
 And on Palm Sunday bore his bough of green. 
 
 His only pastime was to hunt the boar 
 
 Through tangled thickets of the forest hoar, 
 
 Or with his jingling mules to hurry down 
 
 To some grand bull-fight in the neighboring town, 30 
 
 Or in the crowd with lighted taper stand, 
 
 When Jews were burned, or banished from the land. 
 
 Then stirred within him a tumultuous joy; 
 
 The demon whose delight is to destroy 
 
 Shook him, and shouted with a trumpet tone, 35 
 
 ''Kill! kill! and let the Lord find out His own!" 
 
 And now, in that old castle in the wood. 
 His daughters, in the dawn of womanhood. 
 Returning from their convent school, had made 
 Resplendent with their bloom the forest shade, 40 
 Reminding him of their dead mother's face. 
 When first she came into that gloomy place — 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 113 
 
 A memory in his heart as dim and sweet 
 
 As moonHght in a soKtary street, 
 
 Where t]ie same rays, that lift the sea, are thrown 4 5 
 
 Lovely but powerless upon walls of stone. 
 
 These two fair daughters of a mother dead 
 
 Were all the dream had left him as it fled. 
 
 A joy at first, and then a growing care 
 
 As if a voice within him cried, "Beware!" 50 
 
 A vague presentiment of impending doom, 
 
 Like ghostly footsteps in a vacant room, 
 
 Haunted him day and night; a formless fear 
 
 That death to some one of his house was near. 
 
 With dark surmises of a hidden crime, 55 
 
 Made life itself a death before its time. 
 
 Jealous, suspicious, with no sense of shame, 
 
 A spy upon his daughters he became; 
 
 With velvet shppers, noiseless on the floors. 
 
 He glided softly through half-open doors; 60 
 
 Now in the room, and now upon the stair. 
 
 He stood beside them ere they were aware; 
 
 He listened in the passage when they talked. 
 
 He watched them from the casement when they 
 
 walked, 
 He saw the gypsy haunt the river's side, 65 
 
 He saw the monk among the cork-trees glide; 
 And, tortured by the mystery and the doubt 
 Of some dark secret, past his finding out. 
 Baffled he paused; then reassured again 
 Pursued the flying phantom of his brain. 70 
 
 He watched them even when they knelt in church; 
 
114 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 And then, descending lower in his search, 
 Questioned the servants, and with eager eyes 
 Listened incredulous to their repHes; 
 The gypsy? none had seen her in the wood! 75 
 The monk? a mendicant in search of food! 
 
 At length the awful revelation came, 
 Crushing at once his pride of birth and name, 
 The hopes his yearning bosom forward casty. I 
 
 And the ancestral glories of the past; 80 
 
 All fell together, crumbling in disgrace, 
 A turret rent from battlement to base. 
 His daughters talking in the dead of night 
 In their own chamber, and without a light, 
 Listening, as he was wont, he overheard, 85 
 
 And learned the dreadful secret, word by word; 
 And hurrying from his castle, with a cry 
 He raised his hands to the unpitying sky. 
 Repeating one dread word, till bush and tree 
 Caught it, and shuddering answered, ''Heresy! " 90 
 
 Wrapped in his cloak, his hat drawn o'er his face, 
 
 Now hurrying forward, now with lingering pace, 
 
 He walked all night the alleys of his park. 
 
 With one unseen companion in the dark. 
 
 The Demon who within him lay in wait, 95 
 
 And by his presence turned his love to hate, * 
 
 Forever muttering in an undertone, 
 
 ''Kill! kill! and let the Lord find out His own!" 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 115 
 
 Upon the morrow, after early Mass, 
 
 While yet the dew was gHstening on the grass, 100 
 
 And all the woods were musical with birds, 
 
 The old Hidalgo, uttering fearful words. 
 
 Walked homeward with the Priest, and in his room 
 
 Summoned his trembling daughters to their doom. 
 
 W^hen questioned, with brief answers they replied, 
 
 Nor when accused, evaded or denied; 106 
 
 Expostulations, passionate appeals. 
 
 All that the human heart most fears or feels, 
 
 In vain the Priest with earnest voice essayed. 
 
 In vain the father threatened, wept, and prayed; 1 1 o 
 
 Until at last he said, with haughty mien, 
 
 ''The Holy Ofi&ce, then, must interv^ene!" 
 
 And now the Grand Inquisitor of Spain, 
 
 With all the fifty horsemen of his train. 
 
 His awful name resounding, like the blast 115 
 
 Of funeral trumpets, as he onward passed, 
 
 Came to Valladolid, and there began 
 
 To harry the rich Jews with fire and ban. 
 
 To him the Hidalgo w^ent, and at the gate 
 
 Demanded audience on affairs of state, 120 
 
 And in a secret chamber stood before 
 
 A venerable graybeard of fourscore. 
 
 Dressed in the hood and habit of a friar; 
 
 Out of his eyes flashed a consuming fire, 
 
 And in his hand the mystic horn he held, 125 
 
 Which poison and all noxious charms dispelled. 
 
 He heard in silence the Hidalgo's tale, 
 
ii6 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Then answered in a voice that made him quail: 
 
 *'Son of the Church! when Abraham of old 
 
 To sacrifice his only son was told, 130 
 
 He did not pause to parley nor protest, 
 
 But hastened to obey the Lord's behest. 
 
 In him it was accounted righteousness; 
 
 The Holy Church expects of thee no less!" 
 
 A sacred frenzy seized the father's brain, 135 
 
 And Mercy from that hour implored in vain. 
 
 Ah! who will e'er believe the words I say? 
 
 His daughters he accused, and the same day 
 
 They both were cast into the dungeon's gloom, 
 
 That dismal antechamber of the tomb, 140 
 
 Arraigned, condemned, and sentenced to the flame, 
 
 The secret torture and the public shame. 
 
 Then to the Grand Inquisitor once more 
 
 The Hidalgo went, more eager than before, 
 
 And said: "When Abraham offered up his son, 145 
 
 He clave the wood wherewith it might be done. 
 
 By his example taught, let me too bring 
 
 Wood from the forest for my offering!" 
 
 And the deep voice, without a pause, replied: 
 
 ''Son of the Church! by faith now justified, 150 
 
 Complete thy sacrifice, even as thou wilt; 
 
 The Church absolves thy conscience from all guilt!" 
 
 Then this most wretched father went his way 
 
 Into the woods, that round his castle lay, 
 
 Where once his daughters in their childhood played 
 
 With their young mother in the sun and shade. 156 
 
I 
 
 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 117 
 
 Now all the leaves had fallen; the branches bare 
 
 Made a perpetual moaning in the air 
 
 And screaming from their eyries overhead 
 
 The ravens sailed athwart the sky of lead. 160 
 
 With his own hands he lopped the boughs and 
 
 bound 
 Fagots, that crackled with foreboding sound, 
 And on his mules, caparisoned and gay 
 With bells and tassels, sent them on their way. 
 
 Then with his mind on one dark purpose bent, 165 
 Again to the Inquisitor he went. 
 And said: ''Behold, the fagots I have brought, 
 And now, lest my atonement be as naught. 
 Grant me one more request, one last desire — 
 With my own hand to light the funeral fire!" 170 
 And Torquemada answered from his seat, 
 "Son of the Church! Thine offering is complete; 
 Her servants through all ages shall not cease 
 To magnify thy deed. Depart in peace!" 
 
 Upon the market-place, builded of stone 175 
 
 The scaffold rose, whereon Death claimed his own. 
 At the four corners, in stern attitude. 
 Four statues of the Hebrew Prophets stood. 
 Gazing with calm indifference in their eyes 
 Upon this place of human sacrifice, 180 
 
 Round which was gathering fast the eager crowd. 
 With clamor of voices dissonant and loud, 
 And everv roof and window was alive 
 
ii8 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 With restless gazers, swarming like a hive. 
 The church-bells tolled, the chant of monks drew 
 near, 185 
 
 Loud trumpets stammered forth their notes of fear, 
 A line of torches smoked along the street, 
 There was a stir, a rush, a tramp of feet. 
 And, with its banners floating in the air. 
 Slowly the long procession crossed the square, 190 
 And, to the statues of the Prophets bound. 
 The victims stood, with fagots piled around. 
 Then all the air a blast of trumpets shook. 
 And louder sang the monks with bell and book, 
 And the Hidalgo, lofty, stern, and proud, 195 
 
 Lifted his torch, and, bursting through the crowd, 
 Lighted in haste the fagots, and then fled, 
 Lest those imploring eyes should strike him dead! 
 
 O pitiless skies! why did your clouds retain 
 
 For peasants' fields their floods of hoarded rain ? 200 
 
 O pitiless earth! why opened no abyss 
 
 To bury in its chasm a crime Hke this? 
 
 That night, a mingled column of fire and smoke 
 
 From the dark thickets of the forest broke, 
 
 And, glaring o'er the landscape leagues away, 205 
 
 Made all the fields and hamlets bright as day. 
 
 Wrapped in a sheet of flame the castle blazed, 
 
 And as the villagers in terror gazed. 
 
 They saw the figure of that cruel knight 
 
 Lean from a window in the turret's height, 210 
 
 His ghastly face illumined with the glare. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 119 
 
 His hands upraised above his head in prayer, 
 Till the floor sank beneath him, and he fell 
 Down the black hollow of that burning well. 
 
 Three centuries and more above his bones 215 
 
 Have piled the oblivious years like funeral stones; 
 His name has perished with him, and no trace 
 Remains on earth of his afflicted race; 
 But Torquemada's name, with clouds o'ercast, 
 Looms in the distant landscape of the Past, 220 
 Like a burnt tower upon a blackened heath, 
 Lit by the fires of burning woods beneath! 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 Thus closed the tale of guilt and gloom. 
 
 That cast upon each listener's face 
 
 Its shadow, and for some brief space 
 
 Unbroken silence filled the room. 
 
 The Jew was thoughtful and distressed; 
 
 Upon his memory thronged and pressed 
 
 The persecution of his race. 
 
 Their wrongs and sufferings and disgrace; 
 
 His head was sunk upon his breast. 
 
 And from his eyes alternate came 
 
 Flashes of wrath and tears of shame. 
 
 The student first the silence broke. 
 As one who long has lain in wait, 
 With purpose to retaliate, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 And thus he dealt the avenging stroke. 15 
 
 "In such a company as this, 
 A tale so tragic seems amiss, 
 That by its terrible control 
 O'ermasters and drags down the soul 
 Into a fathomless abyss. 20 
 
 The Italian Tales that you disdain, 
 Some merry Night of Straparole, 
 Or Machiavelli's Belphagor, 
 Would cheer us and delight us more. 
 Give greater pleasure and less pain 25 
 
 Than your grim tragedies of Spain!" 
 
 And here the Poet raised his hand, 
 
 With such entreaty and command, 
 
 It stopped discussion at its birth. 
 
 And said: "The story I shall tell 30 
 
 Has meaning in it, if not mirth; 
 
 Listen, and hear what once befell 
 
 The merry birds of Killingworthl" 
 
 THE POET'S TALE 
 
 THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH 
 
 It was the season, when through all the land 
 The merle and mavis build, and building sing 
 
 Those lovely lyrics, written by His hand, 
 
 Whom Saxon Caedmon calls the BHthe-heart King; 
 
 When on the boughs the purple buds expand, 5 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 121 
 
 The banners of the vanguard of the Spring, 
 And rivulets, rejoicing, rush and leap, 
 And v^ave their fluttering signals from the steep. 
 
 The robin and the blue-bird, piping loud, 
 
 Filled all the blossoming orchards with their 
 glee; 
 
 The sparrows chirped as if they still were proud 1 1 
 Their race in Holy Writ should mentioned be; 
 
 And hungry crows assembled in a crowd. 
 Clamored their piteous prayer incessantly, 
 
 Knowing who hears the ravens cry, and said: 15 
 
 ''Give us, O Lord, this day our daily breadl" 
 
 Across the Sound the birds of passage sailed. 
 Speaking some unknown language strange and 
 sweet 
 
 Of tropic isle remote, and passing hailed 
 
 The village with the cheers of all their fleet; 20 
 
 Or quarrelling together, laughed and railed 
 Like foreign sailors, landed in the street 
 
 Of seaport town, and with outlandish noise 
 
 Of oaths and gibberish frightening girls and boys. 
 
 Thus came the jocund Spring in Killingworth, 25 
 In fabulous days, some hundred years ago; 
 
 And thrifty farmers, as they tilled the earth. 
 Heard with alarm the cawing of the crow, 
 
 That mingled with the universal mirth, 
 
 Cassandra-like, prognosticating woe; 30 
 
122 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 They shook their heads, and doomed with dreadful 
 
 words 
 To swift destruction the whole race of birds. 
 
 And a town-meeting was convened straightway 
 To set a price upon the guilty heads 
 
 Of these marauders, who, in Heu of pay, 35 
 
 Levied black-mail upon the garden beds 
 
 And corn-fields, and beheld without dismay 
 
 The awful scarecrow, with his fluttering shreds; 
 
 The skeleton that waited at their feast, 
 
 Whereby their sinful pleasure was increased. 40 
 
 Then from his house, a temple painted white, 
 With fluted columns, and a roof of red. 
 
 The Squire came forth, august and splendid sight! 
 Slowly descending, with majestic tread, 
 
 Three flights of steps, nor looking left nor right, 45 
 Down the long street he walked, as one who said, 
 
 ^'A town that boasts inhabitants like me 
 
 Can have no lack of good society!" 
 
 The Parson, too, appeared, a man austere. 
 
 The instinct of whose nature was to kill; 50 
 
 The wrath of God he preached from year to year. 
 And read, with fervor, Edwards on the Will; 
 
 His favorite pastime was to slay the deer 
 In Summer on some Adirondac hill; 
 
 E'en now, while walking down the rural lane, 55 
 
 He lopped the wayside lilies with his cane. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 123 
 
 From the Academy, whose belfry crowned 
 The hill of Science with its vane of brass, 
 
 Came the Preceptor, gazing idly round, 
 Now at the clouds, and now at the green grass, 60 
 
 And all absorbed in reveries profound 
 Of fair Almira in the upper class, 
 
 Who was, as in a sonnet he had said, 
 
 As pure as water, and as good as bread. 
 
 And next the Deacon issued from his door, 65 
 
 In his voluminous neck-cloth, white as snow; 
 
 A suit of sable bombazine he wore; 
 
 His form was ponderous, and his 'step was slow; 
 
 There never was so wise a man before; 
 
 He seemed the incarnate "Well, I told you so! " 70 
 
 And to perpetuate his great renown 
 
 There was a street named after him in town. 
 
 These came together in the new town-hall, 
 With sundry farmers from the region round. 
 
 The Squire presided, dignified and tall, 75 
 
 His air impressive and his reasoning sound; 
 
 111 fared it with the birds, both great and small; 
 Hardly a friend in all that crowd they found. 
 
 But enemies enough, who every one 
 
 Charged them with all the crimes beneath the sun. 80 
 
 When they had ended, from his place apart. 
 
 Rose the Preceptor, to redress the wrong. 
 
 And, trembhng like a steed before the start. 
 
124 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Looked round bewildered on the expectant throng; 
 Then thought of fair Almira, and took heart 85 
 
 To speak out what was in him, clear and strong, 
 Alike regardless of their smile or frown, 
 And quite determined not to be laughed down. 
 
 "Plato, anticipating the Reviewers, 
 
 From his Republic banished without pity 90 
 
 The Poets; in this little town of yours, 
 
 You put to death, by means of a Committee, 
 The ballad-singers and the Troubadours, 
 
 The street-musicians of the heavenly city, 
 The birds, who make sweet music for us all 95 
 
 In our dark hours, as David did for Saul. 
 
 "The thrush that carols at the dawn of day 
 From the green steeples of the piny wood; 
 
 The oriole in the elm; the noisy jay, 
 
 Jargoning like a foreigner at his food; 100 
 
 The blue-bird balanced on some topmost spray. 
 Flooding with melody the neighborhood; 
 
 Linnet and meadow-lark, and all the throng, 
 
 That dwell in nests, and have the gift of song. 
 
 "You slay them all! and wherefore? for the gain 
 Of a scant handful more or less of wheat, 106 
 
 Or rye, or barley, or some other grain. 
 
 Scratched up at random by industrious feet. 
 
 Searching for worm or weevil after rain! 
 
 Or a few cherries, that are not so sweet no 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 125 
 
 As are the songs these uninvited guests 
 Sing at their feasts with comfortable breasts. 
 
 "Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these? 
 
 Do you ne'er think who made them, and who 
 taught 
 The dialect they speak, where melodies 1 1 5 
 
 Alone are the interpreters of thought? 
 Whose household words are songs in many keys, 
 
 Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught! 
 Whose habitations in the tree-tops even 
 Are half-way houses on the road to heaven! 120 
 
 "Think, every morning when the sun peeps through 
 The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, 
 
 How jubilant the happy birds renew 
 Their old, melodious madrigals of love! 
 
 And when you think of this, remember, too, 125 
 'Tis always morning somewhere, and above 
 
 The awakening continent, from shore to shore. 
 
 Somewhere the birds are singing evermore. 
 
 "Think of your woods and orchards without birds! 
 
 Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams 130 
 As in an idiot's brain remembered words 
 
 Hang empty 'mid the cobwebs of his dreams! 
 Will bleat of flocks or bellowing of herds 
 
 Make up for the lost music, when your teams 
 Drag home the stingy harvest, and no more 135 
 Tlic feathered gleaners follow to your door? 
 
126 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 ''What! would you rather see the incessant stir 
 Of insects in the windrows of the hay, 
 
 And hear the locust and the grasshopper 
 
 Their melancholy hurdy-gurdies play? 140 
 
 Is this more pleasant to you than the whirr 
 Of meadow-lark, and its sweet roundelay, 
 
 Or twitter of little field-fares, as you take 
 
 Your nooning in the shade of bush and brake? 
 
 ' ' You call them thieves and pillagers ; but know 1 4 5 
 They are the winged wardens of your farms. 
 
 Who from the corn-fields drive the insidious foe. 
 And from your harvests keep a hundred harms; 
 
 Even the blackest of them all, the crow. 
 
 Renders good service as your man-at-arms, 150 
 
 Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail. 
 
 And crying havoc on the slug and snail. 
 
 "How can I teach your children gentleness, 
 And mercy to the weak, and reverence 
 
 For Life, which, in its weakness or excess, 155 
 
 Is still a gleam of God's omnipotence, 
 
 Or Death, which, seeming darkness, is no less 
 The selfsame light, although averted hence. 
 
 When by your laws, your actions, and your speech. 
 
 You contradict the very things I teach?" 160 
 
 With this he closed; and through the audience went 
 
 A murmur, like the rustle of dead leaves; 
 The farmers laughed and nodded, and some bent 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 127 
 
 Their yellow heads together like their sheaves; 
 Men have no faith in fine-spun sentiment 165 
 
 Who put their trust in bullocks and in beeves. 
 The birds were doomed; and, as the record shows, 
 A bounty offered for the heads of crows. 
 
 There was another audience out of reach, 
 
 Who had no voice nor vote in making laws, 170 
 
 But in the papers read his Httle speech, 
 
 And crowned his modest temples with applause; 
 
 They made him conscious, each one more than each. 
 He still was victor, vanquished in their cause. 
 
 Sweetest of all the applause he won from thee, 175 
 
 O fair Almira at the Academy! 
 
 And so the dreadful massacre began; 
 
 O'er fields and orchards, and o'er woodland crests, 
 The ceaseless fusillade of terror ran. 
 
 Dead fell the birds, with blood-stains on their 
 breasts, 180 
 
 Or wounded crept away from sight of man, 
 
 While the young died of famine in their nests; 
 A slaughter to be told in groans, not words, 
 The very St. Bartholomew of Birds! 
 
 The Summer came, and all the birds were dead; 185 
 The days were like hot coals; the very ground 
 
 Was burned to ashes; in the orchards fed 
 Myriads of caterpillars, and around 
 
 The cultivated fields and garden beds 
 
128 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 Hosts of devouring insects crawled, and found 190 
 No foe to check their march, till they had made 
 The land a desert without leaf or shade. 
 
 Devoured by worms, like Herod, was the town, 
 Because, like Herod, it had ruthlessly 
 
 Slaughtered the Innocents. From the trees spun 
 down 195 
 
 The canker-worms upon the passers-by, 
 
 Upon each woman's bonnet, shawl, and gown, 
 Who shook them off with just a Httle cry; 
 
 They were the terror of each favorite walk. 
 
 The endless theme of all the village talk. 200 
 
 The farmers grew impatient, but a few 
 
 Confessed their error, and would not complain, 
 
 For after all, the best thing one can do 
 When it is raining, is to let it rain. 
 
 Then they repealed the law, although they knew 205 
 It would not call the dead to life again; 
 
 As school-boys, finding their mistake too late, 
 
 Drew a wet sponge across the accusing slate. 
 
 That year in Killingworth the Autumn came 
 
 Without the light of his majestic look, 210 
 
 The wonder of the falling tongues of flame, 
 The illumined pages of his Doom's-Day book. 
 
 A few lost leaves blushed crimson with their 
 shame, 
 And drowned themselves despairing in the brook, 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 129 
 
 While the wild wind went moaning everywhere, 2 1 5 
 Lamenting the dead children of the air! 
 
 But the next Spring a stranger sight was seen, 
 A sight that never yet by bard was sung, 
 
 As great a wonder as it would have been 
 
 If some dumb animal had found a tongue I 220 
 
 A wagon, overarched with evergreen, 
 
 Upon whose boughs were wicker cages hung, 
 
 All full of singing birds, came down the street. 
 
 Filling the air with music wild and sweet. 
 
 From all the country round these birds were 
 brought, 
 
 By order of the town, with anxious quest, 226 
 And, loosened from their wicker prisons, sought 
 
 In woods and fields the places they loved best, 
 Singing loud canticles, which many thought 
 
 Were satires to the authorities addressed, 230 
 While others, listening in green lanes, averred 
 Such lovely music never had been heard! 
 
 But blither still and louder carolled they 
 Upon the morrow, for they seemed to know^ 
 
 It was fair Almira's wedding-day, 235 
 
 And everywhere, around, above, below, 
 
 When the Preceptor bore his bride away, 
 Their songs burst forth in joyous overflow, 
 
 And a new heaven bent over a new earth 
 
 Amid the sunny farms of Killingworth. 240 
 
I30 TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 FINALE 
 
 The hour was late; the fire burned low, 
 The landlord's eyes were closed in sleep, 
 And near the story's end a deep 
 Sonorous sound at times was heard. 
 As when the distant bagpipes blow. 
 At this all laughed; the Landlord stirred, 
 As one awaking from a swound. 
 And, gazing anxiously around, 
 Protested that he had not slept, 
 But only shut his eyes, and kept 
 His ears attentive to each word. 
 
 Then all arose, and said ''Good Night." 
 Alone remained the drowsy Squire 
 To rake the embers of the fire. 
 And quench the waning parlor light; 
 While from the windows, here and there, 
 The scattered lamps a moment gleamed, 
 And the illumined hostel seemed 
 The constellation of the Bear, 
 Downward, athwart the misty air, 
 Sinking and setting toward the sun. 
 Far off the village clock struck one. 
 
• not.es 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 THE WAYSIDE INN 
 
 I. Sudbury. A town about thirty miles west of Boston. 
 
 3. Wayside Inn. The famous Red Horse Inn, a beauti- 
 ful old Colonial mansion, still an object of pilgrimage to 
 sightseers. 
 
 7. Hostelry. Inn. 
 
 ID. When men. The inn was originally the country 
 residence of an Englishman named Howe, but his descend- 
 ants lost their fortune and converted it into an inn. 
 
 12. Hobgoblin Hall. A haunted house. 
 
 15. Crazy. Cracked and rickety. 
 
 22. deeds. Cinders. 
 
 30. Wattled. Wattles are the fleshy excrescence under 
 the head of a cock or turkey. 
 
 32. Red Horse. In old days some figure or device was 
 always placed on the sign of an inn. 
 
 43. Weir. A dam or fence across a river. 
 
 51. Wainscot. Wooden panellings on the wall of a 
 room. 
 
 53. Princess Mary. Mary, Queen of Scots, who was 
 reputed to have been very beautiful. 
 
 55. Spinet. An instrument resembling a piano, but very 
 much smaller. 
 
 60. Coat-of-arms. Devices originally granted by the 
 Crown to families, as a mark of distinction. 
 
 65. Major Molineanx. The inscription on the pane is, 
 "William Molineaux, jr., esq., June 24, 1774." See Haw- 
 thorne's story. My Kinsman, Major Molineaux. 
 
 63. Rhyfnes. These are: 
 
 "What do you think? 
 Here is good drink. 
 Perhaps you may not know it; 
 If not in haste, 
 Do stop and taste! 
 You merry folk will show it." 
 
 131 
 
132 NOTES 
 
 icx). Sir William, etc. These were the landlord's an- 
 cestors. 
 
 104. Gules. Vertical red lines. 
 
 105. Chevron argent. Two silver bars meeting at an 
 angle in the centre of the shield. 
 
 107. Wyvern. A creature part dragon and part serpent, 
 used in heraldry. Part-per-pale means that it was pierced 
 through the middle by a perpendicular line. 
 
 109. Scroll. A motto was usually inscribed beneath the 
 shield, although some arms have only the simple family name. 
 
 127. Tome. A large volume. 
 
 128. Vellum. A fine leather, prepared from the skins of 
 sheep and goats. 
 
 128. Bedight. Clothed, adorned. 
 
 130. Florence, etc. Recalling the Romance of Medi- 
 eval Italy. 
 
 133. Hauberk. A coat of mail made of small, over- 
 lapping steel rings, and thus very flexible. 
 
 133. Helm. Helmet. 
 
 135. Hawk. Hawks or falcons were trained to hunt 
 other birds, and the sport was very popular. Everyone had 
 his favorite falcon, which was carried perched upon the wrist. 
 
 139. Charle?nagne. Charles the Great (742-814). He 
 was the first German king to be crowned by the Pope as 
 Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, which included a 
 large part of Italy. 
 
 140. Merlin. A famous wizard who lived at King 
 Arthur's court. 
 
 140. Mortd'Arthtire. Literally, the death of Arthur. A 
 series of romances describing the life of Arthur and the 
 famous exploits of his knights. 
 
 142. Flores and Blanche fleur. Characters in an early 
 French romance. Their story is told by the Italian story 
 teller, Boccaccio, in the tale, // Filopoco, and in the Frank- 
 lin's Tale, one of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. 
 
 143. Sir Ferumbras. A follower of Charlemagne. 
 
 143. Sir Eglafnour. One of Arthur's Knights of the 
 Round Table. 
 
 144. Sir Launcelot. The greatest of all Arthur's knights. 
 
 145. Sir Guy. Guy of Warwick was a legendary English 
 hero. The others mentioned are all knights of the Round 
 Table. 
 
 151. Palermo. Palermo, the chief city of Sicily, was 
 besieged by the French in 1849 and captured, when the 
 people of Sicily rose in revolt against their foreign rulers. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 133 
 
 153. Bomha. Ferdinand II., who ruled Sicily at this 
 time, and who was given the nickname of Bomha because 
 he bombarded the rebellious cities. 
 
 166. Immortal Four. The four great mediaeval poets of 
 Italy: Dante, Petrarch, Ariosto and Tasso. 
 
 168. Bard. Boccaccio, a famous Itahan story teller 
 whose chief work is the Decameron, a collection of tales sup- 
 posed to be told by a gay party of people who had shut 
 themselves up in a country estate during a period of plague 
 in Florence. 
 
 i6g. Tuscan. Tuscany is a province of western Italy 
 containing the city of Florence. 
 
 171. Fiesole. A small village near Florence where the 
 story tellers sought refuge. 
 
 180. Bucolic. Pastoral songs by Meli, a Sicilian poet of 
 the eighteenth century. 
 
 184. Theocritus. A famous Greek pastoral poet, who 
 lived in Syracuse, a Greek city of Sicily, during the second 
 century before Christ. 
 
 185. Alicant. A port on the southern coast of Spain. 
 188. Attar. A perfume made from the oil of roses. 
 
 188. Levant. The countries lying along the eastern 
 Mediterranean, as, Turkey, Syria, Greek, Egypt, and Asia 
 Minor. 
 
 189. Patriarch. A name given to the rulers of the 
 Hebrew tribes before the time of Moses. 
 
 196. Sandal. An aromatic wood. 
 
 199. Moluccas. A group of spice islands in the Malay 
 Archipelago. 
 
 200. Celebes. One of the East Indies. 
 
 202. Pierre Alphonse. A Spanish prelate of the fifteenth 
 century who wrote a history of Spain from the earliest time. 
 
 204. Sandahar. A collection of tales written in Hebrew 
 in the Middle Ages, and called the Mishle Sandahar. 
 
 205. Pilpay. Hindoo legends written in Sanskrit. 
 
 208. Talmud. The collected body of the civil and 
 canonical laws of the Jewish people. 
 
 208. Tar gum. The Chaldean translation from the Old 
 Testament. 
 
 209. Kahala. A mystic philosophy which the Jewish 
 race claim was delivered to them by revelation and by which 
 they are able to interpret Scripture. 
 
 213. Sackbut. A wind instrument somewhat like a 
 trombone. 
 
 216. Cambridge. Harvard College. 
 
134 NOTES 
 
 240. Laurels. That is, the laurel crown of fame. Mil- 
 tiades was the Grecian general who defeated the Persians at 
 Marathon. 
 
 253. Angel. In one of Raphael's famous Vatican fres- 
 coes, Apollo is represented as playing on a violin. 
 
 259. Stromkarl. The water spirit. 
 
 269. Elivagar. A river which, according to the old 
 Norse mythology, had its rise in the region of endless night 
 and cold. 
 
 272. Cremona. A province of northern Italy made noted 
 by the wonderful violins once made there. 
 
 276. Tyrolian. The Tyrol is a wooded province in 
 Austria-Hungary. 
 
 284. Stradivarius. A famous violin maker of the early 
 eighteenth century, whose instruments have never been 
 equalled. 
 
 299, Harpsichord, .^.n instrument resembling the piano. 
 
 THE LANDLORD'S TALE 
 PAUL REVERE'S ride * 
 
 2. Paul Revere. He was one of a secret society formed 
 in Boston to watch the movements of the British troops 
 quartered in the city. The circumstances leading to the 
 incident here related may be found in any school history. 
 
 9. North Church. Christ Church, which was built in 
 1723, and is one of the oldest churches in Boston. On the 
 tower is a tablet bearing this inscription: 
 
 "The Signal Lanterns of 
 
 Paul Revere 
 
 Displayed in the Steeple of this Church, 
 
 April 18, 1775, 
 
 Warned the Country of the March 
 
 of the British Troops 
 
 to Lexington and Concord." 
 
 13. Middlesex. One of the eastern counties of Massa- 
 chusetts in which Lexington and Concord are situated. 
 
 16. Charlestown. Now a part' of Boston. At that time 
 it was a separate town on the north shore of the Charles 
 River. 
 
 29. Grenadiers. Fort soldiers, generally picked men of 
 unusual stature and courage. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 135 
 
 83. Mysiic. A river flowing into Boston Harbor. Paul 
 Revere was obliged to ride along its southern shore. 
 88. Medjord. A town near Boston on the north. 
 96. Swim. That is, its reflection in the river. 
 102. Bridge. See Emerson's Concord Hymn; 
 
 By the rude bridge that arched the flood, 
 Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, 
 
 Here once the embattled farmers stood 
 
 And fired the shot heard round the world." 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 10. 'Joyeuse. The name of Charlemagne's sword. 
 
 10. Colada. The sword of the Spanish hero, the Cid, 
 who fought in the wars with the Moors in the eleventh 
 century. 
 
 10. Durindale. The sword of Roland, a soldier in 
 Charlemagne's army, which he won from the giant Jutmun- 
 dus. 
 
 11. Excalibar. King Arthur's sword. It was given to 
 him by the Lady of the Lake, a famous sorceress. See 
 Tennyson's Coming of Arthur. 
 
 II. Aroundight. The sword of Arthur's knight, Lance- 
 lot. 
 
 2 1. Iron pot. Helmet. 
 
 23. Escutcheon . A shield bearing a coat-of-arms. 
 
 37. Emprise. Enterprise. 
 
 38. Ariosto. A great Italian poet. 
 
 49. Palmieri. The estate where the stories were told. 
 
 50. Fiametta. The ladv who told the fifth tale. 
 
 THE STUDENT'S TALE 
 
 THE FALCON OF SER FEDERIGO 
 The following is the story as Boccaccio tells it in the 
 Decameron: 
 
 "At Florence dwelt a young gentleman named Federigo, 
 who, in feats of arms and gentility, surpassed all the youth in 
 Tuscany. This gentleman was in love with a lady called 
 Monna Giovanna, one of the most agreeable women in 
 Florence, and to gain her affection, he was continually 
 making tilts, balls, and such diversions; lavishing away his 
 money on rich presents, and every thing that was extravagant. 
 
136 NOTES 
 
 But she made no account either of what he did for her sake, 
 or of himself. 
 
 "As Federigo continued to live in this manner, spending 
 profusely, and acquiring nothing, his wealth soon began to 
 waste, till at last he had nothing left but a very small farm, 
 the income of which was a most slender maintenance, and a 
 single hawk, one of the best in the world. Yet loving still 
 more than ever, and finding he could subsist no longer in 
 the city in the manner he would choose to live, he retired to 
 his farm, where he went out fowling, as often as the weather 
 would permit, and bore his distress patiently, without ever 
 making his necessity known to anybody. Now it happened 
 that the lady's husband fell sick, and being very rich, he 
 made a will by which he left all his substance to an only 
 son, and if he should die without issue, he then ordered that 
 it should revert to his lady, whom he was extremely fond of; 
 and when he had disposed thus of his fortune, he died. 
 Monna Giovanna, now being left a widow, retired to a house 
 of hers in the country, near to that of Federigo: whence it 
 happened that her son soon became acquainted with him, 
 and they used to divert themselves together with dogs and 
 hawks; and the boy, having often seen Federigo's hawk fly, 
 and being strangely taken with it, was desirous of having it, 
 though the other valued it to that degree that he knew not 
 bow to ask for it. 
 
 "This being so, the boy soon fell sick, which gave his 
 mother great concern, as he was her only child, and she 
 ceased not to attend on and comfort him; often requesting, 
 if there was any particular thing which he fancied, to let 
 her know it, and promised to procure it for him if it was 
 possible. The young gentleman, after many offers of this 
 kind, at last said, 'Madam, if you could contrive for me to 
 have Federigo's hawk, I should soon be well.' She was in 
 some perplexity at this, and began to consider how best to 
 act. She knew that Federigo had long entertained a liking 
 for her, without the least encouragement on her part; there- 
 fore she said to herself, ' How can I send or go to ask for this 
 hawk, which, I hear, is the very best of the kind, and which 
 is all he has in the world to maintain him ? Or how can I 
 offer to take away from a gentleman all the oleasure thdt 
 he has in life?' Being in this perplexity, though she was 
 very sure of having it for a word, she stood without making 
 any reply; till at last the love of her son so far prevailed, 
 that she resolved at all events to make him easy, and not 
 send, but go herself. She then replied, 'Set your heart at 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 137 
 
 rest, my son, and think only of your recovery; for I promise ' 
 }Ou that I will go to-morrow for it the first thing I do.' 
 This afforded him such joy, that he immediately showed 
 signs of amendment. 
 
 "The next morning she went, by way of a walk, with 
 another lady in company, to Federigo's little cottage to 
 inquire for him. At that time, as it was too early to go out 
 upon his diversion, he was at work in his garden. Hearing, 
 therefore, that his mistress inquired for him at the door, he 
 ran thither, surprised and full of joy, whilst she, with a 
 great deal of complaisance, went to meet him; and, after 
 the usual compliments, she said, 'Good morning to you, 
 sir; I am come to make you some amends for the losses 
 you have sustained on my account, what I mean is, that I 
 have brought a companion to take a neighborly dinner with 
 you to-day.' He replied, with a great d^al of humility, 
 'Madam, I do not remember ever to have suffered any loss 
 by your means, but rather so much good, that if I was worth 
 anything at any time it was due to your singular merit, and 
 the love I had for you; and most assuredly this courteous 
 visit is more welcome to me than if I had all I have wasted 
 returned to me to spend over again; but you are come to a 
 very poor host.' With these words he showed her into his 
 house, seeming much out of countenance, and thence they 
 went into the garden, where, having no company for her, 
 he said, 'Madam, as I have nobody else, please to admit 
 this honest woman, a laborer's wife, to be vv-ith you, whilst 
 I set forth the table.' 
 
 "Although his poverty was extreme, never till now had he 
 been so sensible of his past extravagance; but finding nothing 
 to entertain the lady with, for whose sake he had treated 
 thousands, he was in the utmost perplexity, cursing his evil 
 fortune, and running up and down hke one out of his wits. 
 At length, having neither money nor anything he could pawn, 
 and longing to give her something, at the same time that he 
 would not make his case known, even so much as to his own 
 laborer, he espied his hawk upon the perch, seized it, and 
 finding it very fat, judged it might make a dish not unworthy 
 of such a lady. Without further thought, then, he wrung 
 its head off, and gave it to a girl to dress and roast carefully, 
 whilst he laid the cloth, having a small quantity of linen 
 left; and then he returned, with a smile on his countenance, 
 into the garden to tell Monna Giovanna that what little 
 dinner he was able to provide was now ready. She and her 
 friend, therefore, entered and sat down with him, he serving 
 
138 NOTES 
 
 them all the time with great respect, when they ate the good 
 hawk, not knowing what it was. 
 
 "After dinner was over, and they sat chatting a little while 
 together, the lady thought it a fit time to tell her errand, and 
 addressed him courteously in this manner: 'Sir, if you call 
 to mind your past life, and my resolution, which perhaps 
 you may call cruelty, I doubt not but you will wonder at my 
 presumption when you know what I am come for; but if 
 you had children of your own, to know how strong our 
 natural affection is toward them, I am very sure you would 
 excuse me. Now, my having a son forces me, against my 
 own inclination, and all reason whatsoever, to request a 
 thing of you, which I know you value extremely, as you 
 have no other comfort or diversion left you in your small 
 circumstances; I mean your hawk, which he has taken such 
 a fancy to, that unless I bring it back with me I very much 
 fear that he will die of his disorder. Therefore I entreat 
 you, not for any regard you have for me, but for that gener- 
 osity with which you have always distinguished yourself, 
 that you would please to let me have it, so that I may be 
 able to say that my child's life has been restored to me through 
 your gift, and that he and I are under perpetual obligations 
 to you.' 
 
 "Federigo, hearing the lady's request, and knowing that 
 it was out of his power to fulfil it, began to weep before he 
 was able to make a word of reply. This she at first attributed 
 to his reluctance to part with his favorite bird, and expected 
 that he was going to give her a flat denial; but after she had 
 waited a little for his answer, he said: 'Madam, ever since I 
 have fixed my affections upon you, fortune has still been 
 contrary to me in many things, and sorely have I felt them; 
 but all the rest is nothing to what has now come to pass. 
 You are here to visit me in this my poor dwelling, to which 
 in my prosperity, you would never deign to come; you also 
 entreat a small present of me, which it is wholly out of my 
 power to give, as I am going briefly to tell you. As soon as 
 I was acquainted with the great favor you designed me, I 
 thought it proper, considering your superior merit and excel- 
 lency, to treat you, according to my ability with . something 
 choicer than is usually given to other persons, when, calling 
 to mind my hawk, which you now request, and his goodness, 
 judged him a fit repast for you, and you have had him 
 roasted. Nor could I have thought him better bestowed, 
 had you not now desired him in a different manner, which is 
 such a grief to me, that I shall never be at peace as long as 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 139 
 
 I live.' And saying this, he produced the hawk's feathers, 
 feet, and talons. The lady began now to blame him for 
 killing such a bird to entertain any woman with, in her 
 heart all the while extolling the greatness of his soul, which 
 poverty had no power to abase. 
 
 "Having now no further hopes of obtaining the hawk, she 
 took leave of Federigo, and returned sadly to her son; who, 
 either out of grief for the disappointment, or through the 
 violence of his disorder, died in a few days. She continued 
 sorrowful for some time; but being left rich, and young, 
 her brothers were very pressing with her to marry again. 
 This went against her incUnation, but finding them still im- 
 portunate, and remembering Federigo's great worth, and the 
 late instance of his generosity in killing such a bird for her 
 entertainment, she said, 'I should rather choose to continue 
 as I am; but since it is your desire that I take a husband, I 
 will have none but Federigo.' They smiled contemptuously 
 at this, and said, 'You simple woman! what are you talking 
 of ? He is not worth one farthing in the world.' She replied, 
 'I believe it, brothers, to be as you say; but know, that I 
 would sooner have a man that stands in need of riches, than 
 riches without a man.' They hearing her resolution, and 
 well knowing his generous temper, gave her to him with all 
 her wealth ; and he, seeing himself possessed of a lady whom 
 he had so dearly loved, and of such a vast fortune, lived in 
 all true happiness with her, and was a better manager of 
 his affairs than he had been before." 
 
 4. Ser. The Italian for "Sir." 
 
 8. Arno. A river in the northwestern part of Italy. 
 
 10. Florence. A city on the Arno noted for its remark- 
 able history and its art treasures. 
 
 16. Monna. Lady. 
 
 28. Thatch. Covered with straw or brush. 
 
 30. Purveyor. One who provides food. 
 
 44. Bells. A band of leather on which bells were strung 
 was generally worn on a falcon's leg. 
 
 59. Aiolian. A kind of harp on which the wind pjays, 
 bv causing the strings to vibrate. It receives its name from 
 ^olus, god of the winds. 
 
 81. Villa, Country house. 
 
 84. Ilex. The holm oak, a kind of evergreen much used 
 for decoration, especially in churches. 
 
 84. Centennial. Very old. 
 
T40 NOTES 
 
 85. Terraced. A succession of raised bankings faced 
 with masonry or turf. 
 
 ■ 86. Sylvan. Statues of woodland deities, fauns, nymphs, 
 etc. 
 
 87. Palpitating. Quivering with heat. 
 
 88. Val d'Arno. The valley of the Arno. 
 
 102. Gerfalcon. A large falcon. This particular kind 
 of bird was originally brought from Scandinavia. 
 
 no. Passing-bell. A bell tolled for the dead. 
 
 130. Pursuivant. Follower, attendant. 
 
 151. Auroral. Rosy, like the dawn in color. Aurora 
 was goddess of the dawn. 
 
 164. - Euphrates. A river in western Asia, which, ac- 
 cording to Genesis, was one of the four rivers that watered 
 the garden of Eden. 
 
 193. Signor. Gentleman. 
 
 201. Ltire. An image of a bird, which was baited and 
 used to recall falcons. 
 
 203. Jesses. The leather bands around the falcon's legs. 
 
 210. Bergamot. Pear. 
 
 221. Fanfares. A flourish on the trumpets. 
 
 228. Garden-close. An enclosed garden. 
 
 271. Servitors. Servants . 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 15. Fen. Wooded marsh. 
 
 25. Reservoirs. Many of Shakespeare's plots are taken 
 from old Italian romances. 
 
 27. Moor of Venice. Othello. 
 
 27. Je%v. Shylock, a character in the Merchant of Venice. 
 
 THE SPANISH JEW'S TALE 
 THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVI 
 
 This story is taken from the Babylonian text of the Talmud 
 and reads as follows: 
 
 "As Rabbi Joshua Ben Levi lay dying, God spake to the 
 Angel of Death: 'Go and do his will.' He went to him. 
 When he appeared to him, the Rabbi said, 'S'^ow me my 
 place in Paradise.' The Angel said, 'So be it.' Then said 
 the Rabbi, 'Give me your sword; on the way you might 
 threaten me.' The Angel gave it him. When the Angel 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 141 
 
 had got there he lifted him upon the wall and showed him 
 his place. But the Rabbi sprang over and landed on the 
 other side. Then he grasped him by the edge of his mantle, 
 but he said: 'I swear I won't come out.' Then spoke the 
 Holy One: 'May he be blessed. If he has ever given an 
 oath and then wished to be released from it, he shall be 
 released, also, from this; but if such is not the case, he shall 
 not be released.' Then spake the Angel of Death to him, 
 'Give me back my sword.' When it w^as not given back, 
 there was heard a heavenly voice saying: 'Give it him for 
 he needs it.' " 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 9. Adumbration. Shadow^, phantom. 
 
 12. Impalpable. Not perceptible to touch. 
 
 21. Abate. An abbot, the head of a monastery. 
 
 THE SICILIAN'S TALE 
 
 KING ROBERT OF SICILY 
 
 I. Robert of Sicily. There is no absolute historical origi- 
 nal of Robert of Sicily. The story is based on an early 
 English romance called Robert of Cysille. In its earliest 
 form, however, it is found, or at least suggested, in the 
 history of the Emperor Jovinian, as related in the Gesta 
 Romanorum, a mediaeval collection of romances that has 
 furnished many plots for later writers. 
 
 1. Pope Urbane. There have been several Popes of this 
 name. 
 
 2. Valmond. This is not an historical name. 
 2. Allemaine. Germany. 
 
 5. St. John's Eve. The eve of June 23. 
 
 6. Magnificat. The canticle or song of rejoicing of the 
 Virgin Mary found in Luke, Chapter I. It is sung at 
 Vespers in Catholic churches. 
 
 9. Deposuit, etc. "He hath put down the mighty from 
 their seats and exalted the humble and meek." 
 
 17. Seditious. Words tending to provoke sedition. 
 
 32. Imprecations. Curses. 
 
 34. Stalls. Choir seats. 
 
 52. . Besprent, Covered with. 
 
142 NOTES 
 
 56. Seneschal. A steward in charge of the household 
 63. Dais. In dining halls there was frequently a raised 
 
 platform on which stood a separate table for the master and 
 
 persons of rank. 
 
 68. Effulgence. Splendor, beauty. 
 
 83. Bells, etc. These were emblems of jesters or fools, 
 kept by noblemen to amuse them. 
 
 84. Henchmen. Servants. 
 
 106. Saturnian. Saturn was an old Roman divinity, 
 supposed to be the father of all the gods, and to have taught 
 men agriculture. 
 
 no. Enceladus. A giant with a hundred arms who was 
 an enemy of the gods. Athene finally slew him by throwing 
 the island of Sicily upon him. 
 
 113. Motley. Of many colors. 
 
 132. Holy Thursday. The Thursday before Easter. 
 
 141. Housings. Ornamental coverings for a horse. 
 
 143. Menials. The lowest form of servants. 
 
 144. Piebald. Mottled in color. 
 
 150. Saint Peter's square. The piazza or open space in 
 front of St. Peter's Cathedral in Rome. 
 
 169. Holy Week. The week preceding Easter. 
 
 186. Salerno. A city in the southwest of Italy. 
 
 187. Palermo. The capital of Sicily. 
 
 189. Angelus. The bell tolled morning, noon, and even- 
 ing, as a signal for making a devotion to the Virgin. 
 200. Shriven. Absolved from sin, pardoned. 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 2. Saga. A poem or song. The sagas are parts of the 
 Heimskringla, a chronicle history of Iceland, by Snorro 
 Sturleson. It relates the stories of the Norse kings from 
 mythical times to about 1177. 
 
 5. Norroway. Norway. 
 
 9. Scad. Wandering minstrels. 
 
 17. Runes. Mystic songs of the Scandinavians. 
 
 THE MUSICIAN'S TALE 
 
 THE SAGA OF KING OLAF 
 
 THE CHALLENGE OF THOR 
 
 Longfellow has added two parts to the original saga, 
 "The Challenge of Thor" andthe "Nun of Nidaros," 
 
 1 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 143 
 
 I . Thor. The god of war in the old Norse mythology. 
 He made the thunder with his iron hammer. 
 
 13. Gauntlets. Steel gloves. 
 
 25. Jove. King of the gods according to the Romans. 
 He corresponds to Odin in the Norse mythology. 
 
 38. Galilean. Christ. 
 
 olaf's return 
 
 43. Olaj. Olaf, son of Tryggve, ruled Norway from 
 996 to 1000. His father died before he was born, and his 
 mother wa. exiled to Russia, where Olaf grew up. He 
 became a Viking, and on one of his expeditions met a monk, 
 who converted him to Christianity. In 996 he overthrew 
 Hakon, king of Norway, conquered the country and forced 
 the people to become Christians. The people, however, 
 revolted, and with the aid of Sweden and Denmark defeated 
 and killed him. 
 
 48. Drontheim. A city of Norway on the fiord or bay 
 of Drontheim. 
 
 66. Hakoft. Hakon Gorm, who gave a refuge to Astrid 
 and her son in their exile. 
 
 68. Gunhild's. Gunhild was the mother of two minor 
 Norwegian kings who pursued Astrid when she fled. 
 
 103. Rowers. The old Viking ships were built like 
 galleys, with tiers of oarsmen to propel them. 
 
 106. Smalsor Horn. A mountain in the southern part 
 of Norway. 
 
 THORA OF RIMOL 
 
 130. Thorp. Small hamlet. 
 
 131. Hakon. Hakon the Bad, king of i>[orway. 
 139. Thrall. Servant, virtually a slave. 
 
 169. Nidarholm. A village a few miles from Trond- 
 hjem. 
 
 SIGRID THE HAUGHTY 
 
 175. Sigrid. The Queen of Sweden, for whose hand 
 Olaf had sued. 
 
 188. Tapestry. A rich fabric into which landscapes and 
 figures were woven. 
 
 190. Brynhilda. Character in an ancient German epic 
 poem. 
 
 THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS 
 
 232. Angvalds-ness. A village on an island near the 
 southwestern coast of Norway. 
 
144 NOTES 
 
 236. Skerry. A Scotch word for "reef." 
 249. Dirges. Solemn chants for the dead. 
 275. Warlocks. Wizards, dealers in magic. 
 288. Witch of Endor. The soothsayer whom Saul cor - 
 suited in I. Sam. xxviii. 
 
 THE WRAITH OF ODIN* 
 
 * Wraith. Phantom, ghost. 
 
 329. Dead, etc. This song is in ancient ballad form, 
 in which each stanza commonly ended in a refrain, which 
 often had nothing to do with the story. Dante Gabriel 
 Rossetti is very fond of this device. 
 
 361. Havamal. Odin's song of triumph. 
 
 371. Lore. Learning, wisdom. 
 
 IRON-BEARD 
 
 393. Hust-Ting. House thing, or public assembly com 
 posed of men who owned land and houses. 
 
 393. Mere. A meeting place near the city of Drontheim. 
 
 Yriar. A district near the city. 
 
 Churliest. Roughest of country fellows. 
 
 Hodden. The natural color of the wool, undyed. 
 
 Hymer. A water spirit that dwelt in the winter sea, 
 
 397 
 402 
 
 405 
 416 
 
 his beard covered with ice. 
 
 GUDRUN * 
 
 * Gudriin. She was the daughter of Iron-Beard. After 
 he was slain. King Olaf offered his relatives compensation 
 for his bloodshed, and they finally agreed that the king 
 should take Gudrun in marriage. 
 
 474. Cairn. A rounded heap of stones which the Norse 
 used to erect as a monument to the dead. 
 
 490. Bodkin. An instrument once used to fasten the 
 hair. 
 
 THANGBRAND THE PRIEST * 
 
 * Thangbrand. A Saxon priest of passionate temper whom 
 Olaf sent to Christianize Iceland. 
 
 509. Rote. Word for word. 
 
 510. Chrysostome. A celebrated Church father of the 
 fourth century. 
 
 511. Fathers. The learned priests and bishops of the 
 early Catholic Church. 
 
 519. Wassail. A spiced liquor used at feasts and merry- 
 makings. 
 
 523. Malecontent. One who is discontented. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 145 
 
 544. Altafiord. A bay on the eastern coast of Iceland. 
 560. Shovel. A clerical hat with a brim rolled on the 
 sides and projecting in front like a shovel. 
 
 RAUD THE STRONG * 
 
 * Raud. A rich man and a great chief. 
 
 584. Evangelists. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. 
 
 596. Jarls and Thanes. The jarls were ranked as earls, 
 the thanes only a little above the common free man. 
 
 600. Saltan Fiord. It lies in the northwestern part of 
 Norway. 
 
 602. Viking. A roving navigator, usually a pirate. 
 
 603. Godoe Isles. They are near the mouth of Salten 
 Fiord. 
 
 BISHOP SIGURD AT SALTEN FIORD 
 
 640. Tide-Ways. At ebb tide this fiord is very dangerous 
 to enter owing to the force with which the water rushes 
 through its narrow entrance. 
 
 654. Crucifix. A cross bearing the image of Christ. 
 
 667. Apocalypse. The Book of Revelation, supposed to 
 have been written by St. John. 
 
 KING OLAF'S CHRISTMAS 
 
 717. Yule-tide. Christmas time. 
 
 720. Berserks. Fierce Norse warriors. 
 
 735. Hauberk. Battle axe. 
 
 746. Qtiern-biter. The sword of Hakon the Good, hero 
 of one of the sagas. 
 
 749. Footbreadth. The sword of Thorolf, who was slain 
 by Hakon the Good. 
 
 785. Host. The bread and wine of the Eucharist which 
 has been consecrated by the priest. 
 
 792. Was-hael. A health! 
 
 THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT 
 
 821. Orgies. Drunken revelries. 
 
 841. Carling. Pieces of timber used to fortify the 
 smaller beams of a ship. 
 
 864. Ell. An ell is the distance from the elbow to the 
 end of the middle finger. 
 
 THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT 
 
 883. Lanner. A kind of hawk. 
 
 886. Forecastle. The forepart of a ship, formerly much, 
 raided and in the form of a castle. 
 
146 NOTES 
 
 896. VarLet. A low fellow, a servant. 
 
 904. Azure. A light, bright blue. 
 
 939. Old King Gorm. An ancient Danish king. 
 
 939. Blue-Tooth Harald. The son and successor of King 
 Gorm. 
 
 A LITTLE BIRD IN THE AIR 
 
 943. Thyri. She was given in marriage to Burislief, king 
 of the Vends, but as long as she was among heathen she 
 refused either to eat or drink, and finally ran away into the 
 woods and made her way to Norway. 
 
 945. Garrulous. Talkative. 
 
 959. Weald. A forest. 
 
 959. Wold. An open plain. 
 
 QUEEN THYRI AND THE ANGELICA STALKS 
 
 1003. Angelica. A European aromatic plant of great 
 fragrance. 
 
 1023. King Harald. The Blue-Tooth Harald already 
 referred to. 
 
 1028. Scatt. Tribute money. 
 
 103 1. Vendland. This country was on the southern 
 shore of the Baltic Sea. 
 
 KING SVEND OF THE FORKED BEARD 
 
 1084. Isle of Svald. This island, which no longer exists, 
 is said to have disappeared in the fourteenth century. 
 
 1089. Sigrid. Olaf's enemy, who had married Svcnd 
 of the Forked Beard. See the saga of Sigrid the Haughty. 
 
 iioi. Frontlet. Forehead. 
 
 1 125. Finmark. A province in the extreme north of 
 Norway. 
 
 1 145. Stet-haven. A bay of northern Germany on which 
 the city of Stettin is situated. 
 
 KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD 
 
 Sigvald was sent by King Svend to spy upon Olaf and 
 bring the two kings together, if possible. He induced Olaf 
 to set sail with his fleet to attack Svend, and led them all 
 into the harbor under the island of Svald, where the Danish 
 king was lying in wait for them. 
 
 KING olaf's WAR-HORNS 
 
 1 197. Brume. Mist. 
 
 1200. Regnarock. Or "Regnarok," the day of universal 
 destruction. 
 
 1234. Thanes. Followers. 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 147 
 
 EINAR TAMBERSKELVER 
 
 1266. Skaldspillar. A Scandinavian poet who wrote a 
 poem about Hakon the Great. 
 
 1272. Yeoman. A freeman, a citizen. 
 
 1297. Assay. Trial. 
 
 1302. Kamper. Battle. 
 
 1 3 10. Saint Michael. One of the angels mentioned by 
 name in the Bible. Compare Milton : — 
 
 " For likest gods they seemed, 
 Stood they, or moved, in stature, motion, arms, 
 Fit to decide the empire of great Heaven. 
 Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air 
 Made horrid circles; two broad suns their shields 
 Blazed opposite, while Expectation stood 
 In horror." — Paradise Lost. 
 
 KING OLAF'S death-drink 
 
 1314. Assuaged. Satisfied, appeased. 
 1343. Orkadale. The valley of the Orka River, a stream 
 in the central part of Norway. 
 
 1370. Sea-kale. Sea cabbage, a kind of seaweed. 
 
 THE NUN OF NIDAROS 
 
 1378. Abbess. The superior or directress of a nunnery. 
 1432. Brumal. Misty. 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 26. Calvin. A Swiss Protestant reformer of the early 
 sixteenth century. His doctrines exerted wide influence on 
 Protestant churches. 
 
 27. Athanasiun creeds. St. Athanasius was a celebrated 
 Church father of the fourth century, who defended the 
 doctrine of the Trinity at a time when the Church was in 
 danger from all sides. His name is given to a celebrated 
 creed found in the English Prayer Book, although it was 
 really written at a much later date. 
 
 28. Holy water. Water blessed by the priest. 
 
 28. Beads. Rosaries, used by Catholics in telling their 
 prayers. 
 
 30. Council of Trent. A great Church council held in 
 1 545-1 563. Its chief work was to condemn the doctrines 
 of the Reformation. 
 
148 NOTES 
 
 ^^. Evergreens, etc. The emblems of Christmas and 
 Palm Sunday. 
 
 34. Litanies. Prayers for mercy and pardon. 
 
 35. Pharisee. The Pharisees were an ancient and strict 
 Jewish sect. For the incident alluded to seeLw^exviii., 10. 
 
 40. One churdi. See Revelation, 11., 3. 
 
 49. Evidence of things unseen. Now faith is the sub- 
 stance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. 
 
 — Hebrews, xi., i. 
 
 51. Phantasiasts. One of the religious sects that arose 
 during the second century. They believed that Christ 
 possessed only an etherealized human body and suffered, 
 therefore, only in appearance. 
 
 58. Beautiful feet. How beautiful upon the mountains 
 are the feet of Him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth 
 peace. — Isaiah, lii, 7. 
 
 61. Old Puller. Thomas Fuller was an English clergy- 
 man of the seventeenth century. 
 
 THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE 
 TORQUEMADA 
 
 This tale is taken from a legend related by De Castro in 
 his Espaniola Protestantes, a book describing the persecutions 
 of Spanish Protestants under the reign of Ferdinand and 
 Isabella. 
 
 I. Ferdinand. King 1452-1516. He was the founder 
 of the Spanish monarchy, and surnamed "the Catholic." 
 His wife, Isabella, was also a devoted Catholic. 
 
 3. Torquemada. The head of the Inquisition, a Spanish 
 ecclesiastical court to try heretics. It is said that in sixteen 
 years he burned between nine and ten thousand persons 
 at the stake. 
 
 5. Valladolid. The capital of Valladolid, a province 
 in the north of Spain. 
 
 6. Moated. Surrounded by a trench filled with water 
 for defence. 
 
 7. Hidalgo. The lowest rank of Spanish noblemen. 
 7. Taciturn. Reserved, silent. 
 
 19. Host. The bread and wine of the Eucharist. 
 
 22. Ephesus. A city in Asia Minor where famous gladi- 
 atorial combats were held. St. Paul says: "If after the 
 manner of men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what 
 : dvantageth it me, if the dead rise not?" 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 r49 
 
 23. Lent. The fast of forty days preceding Easter which 
 commemorates the fast of Jesus. 
 
 25. Corpus Christi. A festival kept by the CathoUc 
 Church on the Thursday after Trinity Sunday. It com- 
 memorates the establishment of the F^ucharist as the name, 
 "body of Christ," signifies. 
 
 26. Palm Sunday. The Sunday before Easter, which 
 commemorates Christ's triumphant entry into Jerusalem. 
 
 112. Holy Office. That is, the Court of Inquisition. 
 
 125. Mystic horn. It is said that Torquemada always 
 carried a unicorn's horn about with him as a protection 
 against poison. 
 
 1 29. Abraham. One of the fathers of the Jewish race. 
 For nis story see Genesis xxii. 
 
 1 60. Ravens. Ravens have always been considered birds 
 of ill-omen. 
 
 163. Caparisoned. Decked out. 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 21. Italian Tales. Boccaccio's, already alluded to. 
 
 22. Straparole. An Italian novelist of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury who wrote a collection of stories supposed to be told 
 on separate nights by a party of ladies and gentlemen and 
 called Straparole^ s Nights. 
 
 23. MachiaveUi. An Italian statesman of the early six- 
 teenth century. Belphagor is a humorous account of the 
 adventures of an arch-fiend on earth. 
 
 THE POET'S TALE 
 THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH 
 
 2. Merle. The blackbird. 
 
 2. Mavis. The thrush. 
 
 3. His hand. That is, the hand of God. 
 
 4. Ccedmon. An Anglo-Saxon poet who lived in the 
 seventh century. His work is really the earliest of English 
 poetry. 
 
 12. Holy Writ. Sparrows are mentioned in various 
 places in the New Testament, and in the Psalms we read: 
 "Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a 
 nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine 
 altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God." 
 
156 NOTES 
 
 15. Ravens cry. "He giveth to the beast his food, and 
 to the young ravens which cry." 
 
 17. Sound. Long Island Sound. KiUingworth is a town 
 in Connecticut about ten miles from the shore. 
 
 25. Jocund. Merry, full of cheer. Shakespeare speaks 
 of the "jocund day." 
 
 30. Cassandra. A prophetess, the daughter of Priam, 
 king of Troy, She foretold the destruction of the city by the 
 Greeks. 
 
 30. Prognosticating. Foretelling. 
 
 35. Marauders. Robbers. 
 
 35. Lieu. In place of. 
 
 42. Fluted columns. Columns ornamented with a series 
 of grooves. 
 
 43. Squire. The chief man of the village. 
 
 52. Edwards on the Will. A treatise on the freedom of 
 the will, by Jonathan Edwards, an American theologian of 
 the eighteenth century. 
 
 67. Sable bombazine. A black fabric of silk and worsted. 
 
 89. Plato. A famous Greek philosopher. In his account 
 of an ideal state he advocated a strict censorship over poets, 
 thus anticipating the critics of modern times. 
 
 93. Troubadours. Wandering poets, who flourished in 
 France and Italy during the Middle Ages. 
 
 96. David. For the account of the way David healed 
 Saul, who was afflicted by an evil spirit, see I. Samuel, xvi., 
 14-23. 
 
 124. Madrigals. Little love songs. 
 
 138. Windrows. Rows of hay raked together prepara- 
 tory to stacking. 
 
 140. Hurdy-gurdies. Stringed instruments vibrated by 
 turning cranks. 
 
 142. Roundelay. A rustic song, simple and lively. 
 
 143. Field- fares. Thrushes. 
 
 184. St. Bartholomew. On St. Bartholomew's Day, 
 1572, between twenty and thirty thousand Huguenots, or 
 French Protestants, were massacred in Paris. 
 
 193. Herod. King of the Jews at the time of Christ's 
 birth. "And immediately the angel of the Lord smote him 
 because he gave not God the glory: and he was eaten by 
 worms, and gave up the ghost." 
 
 211. Tongues of flame. The autumn foliage. For the 
 figure compare Acts ii., 3: "And there appeared unto them 
 cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them." 
 
 2I2... Doom's-Day book. An ancient record of the survey 
 
 RD- 
 
 17 
 
TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
 
 ^5^ 
 
 of all the lands in the kingdom of England, made in the reign 
 of William the Conqueror. 
 
 229. Canticles. Songs of praise. 
 
 FINALE 
 
 5. Bagpipes. Wind instruments something like a trom- 
 bone. 
 
 19. Bear. The name of a constellation of stars. 
 
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