The Geste of Duke Jocelyn Part 23

"Nay, good Witch, most gentle, potent dame, I--though phantom accounted, I love not phantoms, and Thraxby Waste--"

"Come ye there--at midnight!"

"Why, then, good Witch, an come I must, suffer that I bring the valiant Fool and mighty Lob--prithee, now!"

At this the old Witch scowled and mumbled and crackled her finger-bones louder than ever.

"Oho!" cried she at last, "thou great child, afraid-o'-the-dark, bring these an ye will--but none other!"

"Good mother, I thank thee!"

"Tchak!" cried the Witch, and, struggling to her feet, hobbled to Jocelyn and laid bony finger on wrist and brow, nodded, mumbled, and so, bent on her staff, hobbled away; but, reaching the cave-mouth, she paused, and smote stick to earth fiercely.

"To-morrow!" she croaked. "Midnight! Re--member!"

FYTTE 8

Tells how the Witch, with incantations dire, In life to life brought Robin through the fire.

The wind was cold--indeed 'twas plaguy chill-- That furtive crept and crept, like something ill Stealing with dreadful purpose in the dark, With scarce a sound its stealthy course to mark; While pallid moon did seem to swoon, as though It ghastly things beheld on earth below; And Robin gripped the good sword by his side, And Joc'lyn looked about him watchful-eyed; While Lobkyn Lollo felt and looked the bolder By reason of the club across his shoulder.

"Here," whispered Robin, peering through the gloom, "Is dismal place, I've heard, of death and doom.

Here do be ghosts and goblins, so 'tis said, Demons, phantoms, spectres of the dead--"

"Aye, verily," quoth Lob, "and what is worse, 'Tis here my grand-dam oft doth come to curse, And haunteth it with spiteful toads and bats, With serpents fell, with ewts and clawful cats.

Here doth she revel hold o' moony nights, With grave-rank ghouls and moaning spectral sprites; And ... Saints! what's that?

A hook-winged bat?

Not so; perchance, within its hairy body fell Is man or maid transformed by magic spell.

O, brothers, heedful be, and careful tread Lest magic gin should catch and strike us dead!

O would my grannam might go with us here.

Since, being witch, she doth no witchcraft fear."

So came the three at last to Haunted Wood, Where mighty trees in gloomy grandeur stood, Their wide-flung boughs so closely interweaving Scarce s.p.a.ce between for ghostly moonbeams leaving; But, snake-like, round each other closely twined, In shuddering wind did mournful voices find, And, groaning, writhed together to and fro Like souls that did the fiery torment know.

Thus, in the wood, 'twas dark and cold and dank, And breathed an air of things long dead and rank; While shapes, dim-seen, did creep and flit and fly With sudden squeak, and bodeful, wailing cry.

At last they reached a clearing in the wood, Where, all at once, as 'mid the leaves they stood, From Lobkyn's lips, loud, tremulous, and high, There rose and swelled the owlet's shuddering cry.

Scarce on the air this dismal sound had died, When they the Witch's hobbling form espied.

Beholding Robin, by the arm she caught him, And to a place of rocks in haste she brought him; And here, where bosky thickets burgeoned round, She pointed to a chasm in the ground.

"Go down!" she hissed. "Go down, thou thing of clay, Thou that art dead--into thy grave I say.

Since thou 'rt hanged, a dead man shalt thou be Till from thy grave my spells shall summon thee--"

"My grave?" gasped Robin, blenching from her frown.

"Aye, Rogue!" she croaked. "Behold thy grave! Go down!"

So shiv'ring Robin, in most woeful plight, Crept into gloom and vanished from their sight.

"O, Robin, Robin!" the old Witch softly cried, "Alack, I'm here!" faint voice, below, replied.

"Thou dead," croaked she, "thou ghostly shade forlorn, From charnel-vault sound now thy spectral horn, Sound now thy rallying-note, then silent be Till from thy mouldering tomb I summon thee!"

Now, on the stillness rose the ghostly sound Of Robin's hunting horn that through the ground Rang thin and high, unearthly-shrill and clear, That thrilled the shivering woodland far and near, And shuddering to silence, left behind A whisper as of leaves in stealthy wind.

A rustling 'mid the underbrush they heard Where, in the gloom about them, dim things stirred-- Vague, stealing shapes that softly nearer drew, Till from the tree-gloom crept a ragged crew, Wild men and fierce, a threatening, grimly herd, Who stood like shadows, speaking not a word; And the pale moon in fitful flashes played On sword and headpiece, pike and broad axe-blade.

While the old hag, o'er witch-fire crouching low, Puffed at the charcoal till it was aglow; Then hobbling round and round her crackling fire, She thus began her incantations dire:

"Come ye long-dead, Ye spirits dread,

Ye things of quaking fear, Ye poor, lost souls, Ye ghosts, ye ghouls, Haxwiggin bids ye here!

By one by two, by two by three, Spirits of Night, I summon ye, By three by four, by four by five, Come ye now dead that were alive, Come now I bid ye From grave-clods rid ye, Come!

From South and North, I bid ye forth, From East, from West, At my behest-- Come!

Come great, come small, Come one, come all, Heed ye my call, List to my call, I say, From pitchy gloom Of mouldered tomb Here find ye room For sport and holiday.

Come grisly ghosts and goblins pale, Come spirits black and grey, Ye shrouded spectres--Hail, O Hail!

Ho! 'tis your holiday.

Come wriggling snakes From th.o.r.n.y brakes, Hail!

Come grimly things With h.o.r.n.y wings, That flit, that fly, That croak, that cry, Hail!

"Come ghouls, come demons one and all, Here revel whiles ye may; Ye noisome things that creep and crawl, Come, sport and round me play.

Ho, claw and wing and hoof and horn, Here revel till the clammy dawn.

"Peeping, creeping, Flying, crying, Fighting, biting, Groaning, moaning, Ailing, wailing, Spirits fell, Come to my spell, Ho! 'tis your holiday!

So, are ye there, High up in air, The moonbeams riding 'Mid shadows hiding?

"Now gather round, ye spectral crew, This night have we brave work to do-- Bold Robin o' the Green, 'tis said, On gallows hangeth cold and dead Beneath the sky On gibbet high, They in a noose did swing him.

Go, goblins, go, And ere they know, Unto me hither bring him."

Here paused the Witch to mend her glowing fire, While each man to his neighbour shuffled nigher, As witch-flame leapt and ever brighter grew, Till, to their horror, sudden it burned blue; Whereat each silent, fearful beholder Felt in the gloom to touch his fellow's shoulder, Yet, in that moment, knew an added dread To see the fire from blue turn ghastly red; Then, as the Witch did o'er it crooning lean, Behold! it changed again to baleful green.

Whereat the Witch flung bony arms on high, As though with claw-like hands she 'd rend the sky; And while the lurid flames leapt ever higher, She thus invoked the Spirit of the Fire.

"As fire doth change, yet, changed, unchanged doth burn, By fiery spell shall dead to life return!

"Ho, goblins yonder--'neath the moon, Have ye brought me the dead so soon?

Ha! is it Bxibin that ye bring, That pale, that stiff, that clammy thing?

Now work we spell with might and main, Shall make it live and breathe again.

"Now in and out, And round about, Ye wriggling rout, With hoof and claw and wing; Now high, now low, Now fast, now slow, Now to and fro Tread we a magic ring.

"Thus, while the frighted moon doth peep, We 'll wake this cold, dead thing from sleep, Till Robin back to life shall leap.

And when he from the fire shall spring, Ye outlaws hail him for your King.

"For on that wight Who, day or night, Shall Robin disobey With purpose fell I'll cast a spell Shall wither him away.

"Ho, Robin! Ope thy death-cold eyes, Ho, Robin! From thy grave arise, Ho, Robin! Robin, ho!

Robin that doth bide so near me, Robin, Robin, wake and hear me, Ho, Robin! Robin, ho!

"Back to life I summon thee, Through the fire thy path must be, Through the fire that shall not harm thee, Through flame that back to life shall charm thee, Shall warm thy body all a-cold, And make grim Death loose clammy hold.

Ho, Robin-a-Green, Ho, Robin-a-Green, Leap back to life by all men seen!"

Through curling smoke-wreaths and through writhing flame, With mighty bound, bold Robin leaping came, And by the Witch did in the fire-light stand, Sword by his side and bugle-horn in hand, And laughed full blithe as he was wont to do, And, joyous, hailed his wild and ragged crew: