The Blue Flower [13]
and shrieking. With that he sprang
out of his bed, and caught up his sword and dagger, leaping
lightly and fiercely down the stair.
There he saw three foul churls, whereof two strove with
the miller, beating him with great clubs, while the third
would master the Maid and drag her away to do her shame, but
she fought shrewdly. Then Martimor rushed upon the churls,
shouting for joy, and there was a great medley of breaking
chairs and tables and cursing and smiting, and with his sword he
gave horrible strokes.
One of the knaves that fought with the miller, he smote
upon the shoulder and clave him to the navel. And at the
other he foined fiercely so that the point of the sword went
through his back and stuck fast in the wall. But the third
knave, that was the biggest and the blackest, and strove to
bear away the Maid, left bold of her, and leaped upon Martimor
and caught him by the middle and crushed him so that his ribs
cracked.
Thus they weltered and wrung together, and now one of them
was above and now the other; and ever as they wallowed
Martimor smote him with his dagger, but there came forth no
blood, only water.
Then the black churl broke away from him and ran out at
the door of the mill, and Martimor after. So they ran through
the garden to the river, and there the churl sprang into the
water, and swept away raging and foaming. And as he went he
shouted, "Yet will I put thee to the worse, and mar the Mill,
and have the Maid!"'
Then Martimor cried, "Never while I live shalt
thou mar the Mill or have the Maid, thou foul, black,
misbegotten churl!" So he returned to the Mill, and there the
damsel Lirette made him to understand that these three churls
were long time enemies of the Mill, and sought ever to destroy
it and to do despite to her and her father. One of them was
Ignis, and another was Ventus, and these were the twain that
he had smitten. But the third, that fled down the river (and
he was ever the fiercest and the most outrageous), his name
was Flumen, for he dwelt in the caves of the stream, and was
the master of it before the Mill was built.
"And now," wept the Maid, "he must have had his will with
me and with the Mill, but for God's mercy, thanked be our Lord
Jesus!"
"Thank me too," said Mlartimor.
"So I do," said Lirette, and she kissed him. "Yet am I
heavy at heart and fearful, for my father is sorely mishandled
and his arm is broken, so that he cannot tend the Mill nor
guard it. And Flumen is escaped; surely he will harm us
again. Now I know not, where I shall look for help."
"Why not here?" said Martimor.
Then Lirette looked him in the face, smiling a little
sorrily. "But thou ridest in a quest," quoth she, "thou mayst
not stay from thy adventures"
"A month," said he.
"Till my father be well?" said she.
"A month," said he.
"Till thou hast put Flumen to the worse?" said she.
"Right willingly would I have to do with that base,
slippery knave again" said he, "but more than a month I may
not stay, for my quest calls me and I must win worship of men
or ever I become a knight."
So they bound up the miller's wounds and set the Mill in
order. But Martimor had much to do to learn the working of
the Mill; and they were busied with the grinding of wheat and
rye and barley and divers kinds of grain; and the millers
hurts were mended every day; and at night there was merry rest
and good cheer; and Martimor talked with the Maid of the great
adventure that he must find; and thus the delay endured in
pleasant wise.
THE MILL
V
Yet More of the Mill, and of the Same Delay, also of the Maid
Now at the end of the third month, which was November,
Martimor made Lirette to understand that it was high time he
should ride farther to follow his quest. For the miller was
now recovered, and it was long that they had heard and seen
naught of Flumen, and doubtless that black knave was well
routed and dismayed that he would not come again. Lirette
prayed him and desired him that he would tarry yet one
out of his bed, and caught up his sword and dagger, leaping
lightly and fiercely down the stair.
There he saw three foul churls, whereof two strove with
the miller, beating him with great clubs, while the third
would master the Maid and drag her away to do her shame, but
she fought shrewdly. Then Martimor rushed upon the churls,
shouting for joy, and there was a great medley of breaking
chairs and tables and cursing and smiting, and with his sword he
gave horrible strokes.
One of the knaves that fought with the miller, he smote
upon the shoulder and clave him to the navel. And at the
other he foined fiercely so that the point of the sword went
through his back and stuck fast in the wall. But the third
knave, that was the biggest and the blackest, and strove to
bear away the Maid, left bold of her, and leaped upon Martimor
and caught him by the middle and crushed him so that his ribs
cracked.
Thus they weltered and wrung together, and now one of them
was above and now the other; and ever as they wallowed
Martimor smote him with his dagger, but there came forth no
blood, only water.
Then the black churl broke away from him and ran out at
the door of the mill, and Martimor after. So they ran through
the garden to the river, and there the churl sprang into the
water, and swept away raging and foaming. And as he went he
shouted, "Yet will I put thee to the worse, and mar the Mill,
and have the Maid!"'
Then Martimor cried, "Never while I live shalt
thou mar the Mill or have the Maid, thou foul, black,
misbegotten churl!" So he returned to the Mill, and there the
damsel Lirette made him to understand that these three churls
were long time enemies of the Mill, and sought ever to destroy
it and to do despite to her and her father. One of them was
Ignis, and another was Ventus, and these were the twain that
he had smitten. But the third, that fled down the river (and
he was ever the fiercest and the most outrageous), his name
was Flumen, for he dwelt in the caves of the stream, and was
the master of it before the Mill was built.
"And now," wept the Maid, "he must have had his will with
me and with the Mill, but for God's mercy, thanked be our Lord
Jesus!"
"Thank me too," said Mlartimor.
"So I do," said Lirette, and she kissed him. "Yet am I
heavy at heart and fearful, for my father is sorely mishandled
and his arm is broken, so that he cannot tend the Mill nor
guard it. And Flumen is escaped; surely he will harm us
again. Now I know not, where I shall look for help."
"Why not here?" said Martimor.
Then Lirette looked him in the face, smiling a little
sorrily. "But thou ridest in a quest," quoth she, "thou mayst
not stay from thy adventures"
"A month," said he.
"Till my father be well?" said she.
"A month," said he.
"Till thou hast put Flumen to the worse?" said she.
"Right willingly would I have to do with that base,
slippery knave again" said he, "but more than a month I may
not stay, for my quest calls me and I must win worship of men
or ever I become a knight."
So they bound up the miller's wounds and set the Mill in
order. But Martimor had much to do to learn the working of
the Mill; and they were busied with the grinding of wheat and
rye and barley and divers kinds of grain; and the millers
hurts were mended every day; and at night there was merry rest
and good cheer; and Martimor talked with the Maid of the great
adventure that he must find; and thus the delay endured in
pleasant wise.
THE MILL
V
Yet More of the Mill, and of the Same Delay, also of the Maid
Now at the end of the third month, which was November,
Martimor made Lirette to understand that it was high time he
should ride farther to follow his quest. For the miller was
now recovered, and it was long that they had heard and seen
naught of Flumen, and doubtless that black knave was well
routed and dismayed that he would not come again. Lirette
prayed him and desired him that he would tarry yet one