She stood appall'd; yet still the charm Yet each bent knee the other smote, And such a sight as she saw there, And such a sight as she saw there, A burning cauldron stood i' the midst, And round about the cauldron stout Their waists were bound with living snakes, Their hands were gory too; and red And suddenly they join'd their hands, And round about the cauldron stout And now they stopp'd; and each prepared Since last the Lady of the night Behind a rock stood Gondoline. The first arose: She said she 'd seen Rare sport since the blind cat mew'd; She call'd around the winged winds, And she laugh'd so loud, the peals were heard She said there was a little bark Upon the roaring wave, And there was a woman there who 'd been To see her husband's grave. And she had got a child in her arms, It was her only child, And oft its little infant pranks Her heavy heart beguil'd. And there was too in that same bark, A father and his son; The lad was sickly, and the sire And when the tempest waxed strong, And the bark could no more it 'bide, She said it was jovial fun to hear The mother clasp'd her orphan child And sweetly folded in her arms, The careless baby slept. And she told how, in the shape o' the wind, As manfully it roar'd, She twisted her hand in the infant's hair, And threw it overboard. And to have seen the mother's pangs, The crew could scarcely hold her down The hag held a lock of the hair in her hand, And it was soft and fair: It must have been a lovely child, And she said, the father in his arms He held his sickly son, And his dying throes they fast arose, His pains were nearly done. And she throttled the youth with her sinewy hands, And his face grew deadly blue; And his father he tore his thin gray hair, And kiss'd the livid hue. And then she told, how she bored a hole In the bark, and it fill'd away: And 'twas rare to hear how some did swear, The man and woman they soon were dead, But the billows that beat were their winding-sheet, She threw the infant's hair i' the fire, The red flame flamed high, And round about the cauldron stout The second begun: She said she had done Had never accomplish'd a better. She said, there was an aged woman, And she had a daughter fair, Whose evil habits fill'd her heart With misery and care. The daughter had a paramour, A wicked man was he, And oft the woman him against Did murmur grievously. And the hag had work'd the daughter up That then she might seize on all her goods, And one night as the old woman Was sick and ill in bed, And pondering sorely on the life She heard her footstep on the floor, And said, 'My child, I'm very ill, I have not long to live; ป Now kiss my cheek, that ere I die And the murderess bent to kiss her cheek, And she lifted the sharp bright knife, And the mother saw her fell intent, And hard she begg'd for life. But prayers would nothing her avail, And she scream'd aloud with fear, But the house was lone, and the piercing screams Could reach no human ear. And though that she was sick and old, And the hag she held the fingers up, And she threw the fingers in the fire, And round about the cauldron stout The third arose: She said she'd been To Holy Palestine: And seen more blood in one short day, Now Gondoline, with fearful steps, For much she dreaded now to hear The hag related then the sports She said that she in human gore There was a gallant-featured youth, He kiss'd a bracelet on his wrist, And every danger sought. |