Now was the winter gone and the spring-tide come again,
and with the blossoming of the earth blossomed Birdalone
also. Nought sweeter of flesh might she be than
erst, but there was now a new majesty grown into her
beauty; her limbs were rounded, her body fulfilled,
her skin sleeked and whitened; and if any mother’s
son had beheld her feet as they trod the meadow besprinkled
with saffron and daffodil, ill had it gone with him
were he gainsaid the kisses of them, though for the
kissing had he fared the worse belike.
That spring-tide, amidst of April, she followed the
witch-wife down to the Sending Boat for the third
time; and there went everything as erst, and she deemed
now that the lesson was well learned, and that she
was well-nigh as wise as the witch herself therein.
But the day after she went about somewhat pensive,
as though a troublous thought were on her; and when,
three days thereafter, she met the wood-mother, she
spake to her even as they parted, and said: Mother,
much wisdom hast thou learned me, and now this at the
last withal, that hitherto there has been shame in
my life; and now fain were I to be done with it.
Fair child, said Habundia, little is the shame though
this woman hath had the upper hand of thee and hath
used thee cruelly: how mightest thou, a child,
strive with her? But now I see and know that
there is an end of that; that she feareth thee now,
and will never again raise a hand against thee save
thou fall wholly into her power; as thou shalt not,
my child. Be comforted then for what is gone
by! Nay, mother, said Birdalone, it is not that
which troubleth me; for, as thou sayest, what else
might I do? But thy wisdom which thou hast set
in my heart hath learned me that for these last months
I have been meeting guile with guile and lies with
lies. And now will I do so no more, lest I become
a guileful woman, with nought good in me save the
fairness of my body. Wherefore hearken, sweet
mother! What is done, is done; but when it cometh
to the day, which is speedily drawing nigh, that I
must part from thee, it may be for a long while, then
will I not fare to the Sending Boat by night and cloud
and with hidden head, but will walk thither in broad
day, and let that befall which must befall.
Changed then Habundia’s face and became haggard
and woeful, and she cried out: O if I could
but weep, as ye children of Adam! O my grief
and sorrow! Child, child! then will betide that
falling into her hands which I spake of e’en
now; and then shall this wretch, this servant of evil,
assuredly slay thee there and then, or will keep thee
to torment thee till thy life be but a slow death.
Nay, nay, do as I should do, and fare with hidden
head, and my ring on thy finger. Or else, O child,
how wilt thou hurt me!
