The Well at the World's End: A Tale

by William Morris

  CHAPTER 13

  Richard Talketh With Ralph Concerning the Well at the World's End.Concerning Swevenham

  On the morrow Blaise went to his chaffer and to visit the men of thePort at the Guildhall: he bade Ralph come with him, but he would not,but abode in the hall of the hostel and sat pondering sadly while mencame and went; but he heard no word spoken of the Well at the World'sEnd. In like wise passed the next day and the next, save that Richardwas among those who came into the hall, and he talked long with Ralphat whiles; that is to say that he spake, and Ralph made semblance oflistening.

  Now as is aforesaid Richard was old and wise, and he loved Ralph much,more belike than Lord Blaise his proper master, whereas he had no mindfor chaffer, or aught pertaining to it: so he took heed of Ralph andsaw that he was sad and weary-hearted; so on the sixth day of theirabiding at Whitwall, in the morning when all the chapmen were goneabout their business, and he and Ralph were left alone in the Hall, hespake to Ralph and said: "This is no prison, lord." "Even so," quothRalph. "Nay, if thou doubtest it," said Richard, "let us go to thedoor and try if they have turned the key and shot the bolt on us."Ralph smiled faintly and stood up, and said: "I will go with thee ifthou willest it, but sooth to say I shall be but a dull fellow of thineto-day." Said Richard: "Wouldst thou have been better yesterday, lord,or the day before?" "Nay," said Ralph. "Wilt thou be betterto-morrow?" said Richard. Ralph shook his head. Said Richard: "Yea,but thou wilt be, or thou mayst call me a fool else." "Thou art kind,Richard," said Ralph; "and I will come with thee, and do what thoubiddest me; but I must needs tell thee that my heart is sick." "Yea,"quoth Richard, "and thou needest not tell me so much, dear youngling;he who runs might read that in thee. But come forth."

  So into the street they went, and Richard brought Ralph into themarket-place, and showed him where was Blaise's booth (for he wasthriving greatly) but Ralph would not go anigh it lest his brothershould entangle him in talk; and they went into the Guildhall which wasboth great and fair, and the smell of the new-shaven oak (for the roofwas not yet painted) brought back to Ralph's mind the days of hischildhood when he was hanging about the building of the water-reeve'snew house at Upmeads. Then they went into the Great Church and heard aMass at the altar of St. Nicholas, Ralph's very friend; and the saidchurch was great to the letter, and very goodly, and somewhat new also,since the blossom-tide of Whitwall was not many years old: and thealtars of its chapels were beyond any thing for fairness that Ralph hadseen save at Higham on the Way.

  But when they came forth from the church, Ralph looked on Richard witha face that was both blank and weary, as who should say: "What is todo now?" And forsooth so woe-begone he looked, that Richard, despitehis sorrow and trouble for him, could scarce withhold his laughter.But he said: "Well, foster son (for thou art pretty much that to me),since the good town pleasureth thee little, go we further afield."

  So he led him out of the market-place, and brought him to the east gateof the town which hight Petergate Bar, and forth they went and out intothe meadows under the walls, and stayed him at a little bridge over oneof the streams, for it was a land of many waters; there they sat downin a nook, and spake Richard to Ralph, saying:

  "Lord Ralph, ill it were if the Upmeads kindred came to naught, or evento little. Now as for my own master Blaise, he hath, so please you,the makings of a noble chapman, but not of a noble knight; though hesayeth that when he is right rich he will cast aside all chaffer;naught of which he will do. As for the others, my lord Gregory is nobetter, or indeed worse, save that he shall not be rich ever, having nomastery over himself; while lord Hugh is like to be slain in some emptybrawl, unless he come back speedily to Upmeads."

  "Yea, yea," said Ralph, "what then? I came not hither to hear theemissay my mother's sons." But Richard went on: "As for thee, lordRalph, of thee I looked for something; but now I cannot tell; for theheart in thee seemeth to be dead; and thou must look to it lest thebody die also." "So be it!" said Ralph.

  Said Richard: "I am old now, but I have been young, and many thingshave I seen and suffered, ere I came to Upmeads. Old am I, and Icannot feel certain hopes and griefs as a young man can; yet have Ibought the knowledge of them dear enough, and have not forgotten.Whereby I wot well that my drearihead is concerning a woman. Is it notso?" "Yea," quoth Ralph. Said Richard: "Now shalt thou tell methereof, and so lighten thine heart a little." "I will not tell thee,"said Ralph; "or, rather, to speak more truly, I cannot." "Yea," saidRichard, "and though it were now an easier thing for me to tell thee ofthe griefs of my life than for thee to hearken to the tale, yet Ibelieve thee. But mayhappen thou mayst tell me of one thing that thoudesirest more than another." Said Ralph: "I desire to die." And thetears started in his eyes therewith. But Richard spake, smiling on himkindly: "That way is open for thee on any day of the week. Why hastthou not taken it already?" But Ralph answered naught. Richard said:"Is it not because thou hopest to desire something; if not to-day, thento-morrow, or the next day or the next?" Still Ralph spake no word; buthe wept. Quoth Richard: "Maybe I may help thee to a hope, though thoumayest think my words wild. In the land and the thorp where I was bornand bred there was talk now and again of a thing to be sought, whichshould cure sorrow, and make life blossom in the old, and uphold lifein the young." "Yea," said Ralph, looking up from his tears, "and whatwas that? and why hast thou never told me thereof before?" "Nay," saidRichard, "and why should I tell it to the merry lad I knew in Upmeads?but now thou art a man, and hast seen the face of sorrow, it is meetthat thou shouldest hear of THE WELL AT THE WORLD'S END."

  Ralph sprang to his feet as he said the word, and cried out eagerly:"Old friend, and where then wert thou bred and born?" Richard laughedand said: "See, then, there is yet a deed and a day betwixt thee anddeath! But turn about and look straight over the meadows in a linewith yonder willow-tree, and tell me what thou seest." Said Ralph:"The fair plain spreading wide, and a river running through it, andlittle hills beyond the water, and blue mountains beyond them, and snowyet lying on the tops of them, though the year is in young July.""Yea," quoth Richard; "and seest thou on the first of the little hillsbeyond the river, a great grey tower rising up and houses anigh it?""Yea," said Ralph, "the tower I see, and the houses, for I amfar-sighted; but the houses are small." "So it is," said Richard; "nowyonder tower is of the Church of Swevenham, which is under theinvocation of the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus; and the houses are thehouses of the little town. And what has that to do with me? sayestthou: why this, that I was born and bred at Swevenham. And indeed Iit was who brought my lord Blaise here to Whitwall, with tales of howgood a place it was for chaffer, that I might see the little town andthe great grey tower once more. Forsooth I lied not, for thy brotheris happy here, whereas he is piling up the coins one upon the other.Forsooth thou shouldest go into his booth, fair lord; it is a goodlysight."

  But Ralph was walking to and fro hastily, and he turned to Richard andsaid: "Well, well! but why dost thou not tell me more of the Well atthe World's End?"

  Said Richard: "I was going to tell thee somewhat which might be worththy noting; or might not be worth it: hearken! When I dwelt atSwevenham over yonder, and was but of eighteen winters, who am now ofthree score and eight, three folk of our township, two young men andone young woman, set out thence to seek the said Well: and much lorethey had concerning it, which they had learned of an old man, a nighkinsman of one of them. This ancient carle I had never seen, for hedwelt in the mountains a way off, and these men were some five yearsolder than I, so that I was a boy when they were men grown; and suchthings I heeded not, but rather sport and play; and above all, I longedfor the play of war and battle. God wot I have had my bellyful of itsince those days! Howbeit I mind me the setting forth of these three.They had a sumpter-ass with them for their livelihood on the waste; butthey went afoot crowned with flowers, and the pipe and tabour playingbefore them, and much people brought them on the way. By St.Christopher! I can see it all as if it were yesterday. I wa
s sorry ofthe departure of the damsel; for though I was a boy I had loved her,and she had suffered me to kiss her and toy with her; but it was soonover. Now I call to mind that they had prayed our priest, Sir Cyprian,to bless them on their departure, but he naysaid them; for he held thatsuch a quest came of the inspiration of the devils, and was but amemory of the customs of the ancient gentiles and heathen. But as tome, I deemed it naught, and was sorry that my white-bosomed,sweet-breathed friend should walk away from me thus into the clouds."

  "What came of it?" said Ralph, "did they come back, or any of them?" "Iwot not," said Richard, "for I was weary of Swevenham after that, so Igirt myself to a sword and laid a spear upon my shoulder and went myways to the Castle of the Waste March, sixty miles from Swevenham town,and the Baron took me in and made me his man: and almost as littleprofit were in my telling thee again of my deeds there, as there was inmy doing them: but the grey tower of Swevenham I have never seen againtill this hour."

  Said Ralph: "Now then it behoveth me to go to Swevenham straightway:wilt thou come with me? it seemeth to be but some four miles hence."

  Richard held his peace and knit his brows as if pondering the matter,and Ralph abided till he spake: so he said: "Foster-son, so to callthee, thou knowest the manner of up-country carles, that tales flowforth from them the better if they come without over much digging andhoeing of the ground; that is, without questioning; so meseems betterit will be if I go to Swevenham alone, and better if I be asked to go,than if I go of myself. Now to-morrow is Saturday, and high market inWhitwall; and I am not so old but that it is likeliest that there willbe some of my fellows alive and on their legs in Swevenham: and if suchthere be, there will be one at the least in the market to-morrow, and Iwill be there to find him out: and then it will go hard if he bring menot to Swevenham as a well-beloved guest; and when I am there, andtelling my tidings, and asking them of theirs, if there be any talesconcerning the Well at the World's End working in their bellies, thenshall I be the midwife to bring them to birth. Ha? Will it do?"

  "Yea," said Ralph, "but how long wilt thou be?" Said Richard: "I shallcome back speedily if I find the land barren; but if the field be inear I shall tarry to harvest it. So keep thou thy soul in patience.""And what shall I do now?" said Ralph. "Wear away the hours," saidRichard. "And to begin with, come back within the gates with me andlet us go look at thy brother's booth in the market-place: it is thenethermost of a goodly house which he is minded to dwell in; and hewill marry a wife and sit down in Whitwall, so well he seemeth like tothrive; for they have already bidden him to the freedom of the city,and to a brother of the Faring-Knights, whereas he is not only astirring man, but of good lineage also: for now he hideth not that heis of the Upmeads kindred."