William Morris Archive

[310] Once upon a time in years long ago there dwelt a young man Desiderius in a certain city.

The said city was huge and built gloriously as for the dwellings of its rich men. A great market there was and on one side thereof a noble mote-house where held the councils of the city, howbeit the Elders that sat in the said councils, though they were oft of many words, might as well have been packs of wool or sacks of wheat with scarlet cloaks thrown over them for all the wielding of their words over the fortunes of the said city. For he who in men’s eyes was its ruler and master was a rich man sent from the master city of the world that he might gather the taxes and tributes to send back again to that fountain of all might, so that rich men might dwell therein, doing nought and wasting the lives of their slaves till richer men than they should arise to take their possessions and slay them. And of the said taxes might the ruler or the head man of the city we have told of take what he durst for his own behoof, though whiles forsooth it turned out that he had but been gathering for another, some captain or chieftain of the aliens, or even a thrall grown rich through many villainies who should buy his guards and wheedle his women, and so enter into his chamber of dais and thrust him through his purple waled gown and reign in his stead, to fall in like manner when the time was ripe thereto. But in that city were many other glorious houses, as temples of the Gods with their shrines and their altars, and mote-houses of the Gilds of Crafts, and palaces of the Elders, and of the rich men who were many, for the thralls and the poor folk were without number, and houses of the captains of war who lay far otherwise than the warriors who were underneath them, and courts of law builded somewhat like minsters and great churches of our day wherein the judge was the Bishop, [the canons] the lawyers and the canticles that were sung therein were lawyers’ lies and judges’ cruelty, and 

[311] the amens were the chuckling of the rich over the poor, and the Mass sung therein they offered to a sack stuffed with gold, and the Host and the daily victim was the life of the poor, and the Bread and Wine of Communion was the thankless labour of the poor and the blood of the thrall and the tears of his day that gaineth nought and his night that knoweth no rest—How Long, O Lord, how long?

Such were the noble buildings of this city, and well had it been if there had been no others. But well ye may wot that since there were rich men therein there were many and worser than these: lairs and dens for the poor folk to lay their heads, foul and close and of evil odours, burnt by the sun, made bitter by the frost and the wind. Ah, if the dwellers therein had only bethought them for once how many they were and how few their masters and yeomen! But out on it they knew nought of the joys of the battle and the hope and toil of the freeman; though of these were most free in name and were fed from time to time with dog’s food and dog’s bidding that they might lie quiet in the sun and huddle into warm corners when colder weather was to hand; nor even rise up and take the food from those who must leave them empty or fill them with poor clad in fair raiment---their slaves born in the house or bought with a price.

Now this city was builded on the two sides of a great river joined by a bridge of boats, the midmost whereof opened to give passage to great ships which could come all the way up from the sea to the quays thereof, bearing in their hollow bellies the wealth of the shores of that country and of far off lands. A great wall of hewn stone went all about the city except where it was cleft by the river; where indeed were builded great towers to guard a chain that barred the ingate to all foemen, and on that wall were many towers for defence and for shelter of the soldiers that warded it, men paid with a price for the risking of their lives and the shedding of their blood. For you must know that the citizens would have [312] naught to do with such work, nor would grind themselves with steel except for hunting and whiles it maybe to murder men in some private quarrel for pelf or lust or vengeance. But in the south-east ingle of the aforesaid wall on a mound raised by men’s hands was a great castle wherein dwelt the soldiers and their captain, and whoso was master of these and the captain for his henchman was master of the whole city and might do what he would so long as they suffered it. The said city stood amidst a wide plain which stretched away far to the westward and was covered with green fields and acres and orchards and gardens sprinkled over with little woods of oak and poplar and sweet chestnut, with fair country steads betowered and walled of the rich men and hamlets of hovels for their slaves--for there were few free peasants or none therein: no yeomen, no franklins, nought but rich men and their bailiffs and stewards over the slaves. All this was on the west side of the river. On the east it was much the same for a little way, except that instead of the little woods was one great forest well tree-grown that came down from low-rising grounds ten miles away, and so to say flooded a great part of the eastern plain and thrust down a tongue close to the walls of the city itself: plentiful were the deer of this great wild-wood, hart and hind and elk and bears and lynxes and wild-cats and wolves and boars and roedeer: and the lords of that city loved to hunt there when they might do so without hardship.

Beyond the wood and the low hills rose high bare downs of the shepherd folk and beyond those again rocky fells dark blue in the distance, and when the sky was clear above and beyond it all could you see the snowy tops of the Wall of the World like white clouds far away. Through all that flat country where the wood was not were many roads wide and narrow, but all hard and good even in the winter and the rainy season, but through the wood was but one great wheel-road that went straight up towards the mountains; though indeed there were paths through the thicket a many which [313] a man might follow on foot or on horseback if he had enough of patience in him.

In this city then dwelt Desiderius the son of a rich merchant; he was but of twenty -four winters, a man very goodly of fashion, not very tall but clean limbed and well knit. So that he had a carle's might in him though he was sleek-skinned and soft-handed; for no work had his body done save feeding itself, save it were at whiles hunting and riding, and such play of swordsmanship and wrestling and stone-casting as they taught in the school of arms of that city. His hair was black, short and curly, his face berry-brown with grey eyes and red lips ; a fresh and fair swain much to be desired by all women kind. His father hight [Aurelian] was a well-looking carle of forty-five winters, a courteous man of many words, greedy of gain but open-handed when the gain lay in his coffers; not tyrannous himself but winking at the deeds of tyrants if it were for his gain ; so that they who were over his thralls and other poor men wotted that they might do as they would so that no tales reached his [ear].Wherefore did they the more abound in tyranny and with torments and the threat of torments locked the lips and tied up the tongues of the poor folk whom they oppressed. But if by any chance they let a true tale slip through it did them but little harm, for the master would indeed being rich and soft of mood give money to the poor man, and if he were thrall would set him free, or at least promise so to do with many fair words. And foul words also would he rain down without stint on the head of the hireling oppressor: but there was an end of all, and next week or next day would the same thing be done and merrily would go the mill that ground the gold. As for the mother of Desiderius the lawful wife of Aurelian (who indeed had as many wives as seemed good to him) she had seen forty summers but was a stately woman and still very fair; for her face was like the marble image of a good imager, so right and true were all the lines therein and so shapely was the compass of it. Dark smooth and fine was [314] her hair, her lips full and red, her skin smooth and clear of hue, her limbs and all her body excellently fashioned, her eyes great and grey like her son's and seeming as if they were the very windows of a true and simple soul. This was her seeming, which was but a painted show: for inwardly she was a fool, false and cruel, of many moods indeed but none of them good, a liar so that no one could say whether any word of hers were false or true; a fawner and a flatterer to make the time pass pleasantly: a friend in the morning, a stranger at mid-day, a foe in the evening: a woman cruel in deeds of set purpose if the mood took her, and always cruel without set purpose, whereas she cared for no soul of man or beast what grief might happen to them either with her or without her. Lovers had she had in her time and yet had: yet had their love lasted but a little while; for presently they found that there was nought to be loved in her save her fair body; whereas she was not one of those evil women with whom soul and body are interwoven for good and ill and they are at once both beautiful and evil: creatures whom some taint and venom hath seized on and driven them past the natural perversity of women, and yet left them women still. Such was the mother of Desiderius and he wotted well to his great grief what she was. Withal his father's brother dwelt in the house, Tatian by name, a man like to his brother both in body and in speech, but different from him in many ways. For whereas Aurelian had thriven ever in his dealings Tatian had never thriven except when he was on other men's business. Forsooth he was a man who cared not and could not draw bridle on any desire he had be it great or small, and since he was a goodly and full-blooded man he had many desires both great and small. He would fain have been the King of the World; but if he had come to his kingship he would have complained of the sun that burned him on the morning of his triumph. Yet was he rather restless than idle, and was wishful to have some business ever on his hands, which he did well till he wearied of it, as soon happened. Like his brother he was easy of temper, yet not being rich like him and having few to [315] run his errands, his kindness was soon swept away by the incoming flood of his desire for some goodly thing. For it is to be said of him that he loved all goodly things which a true man ought to love, but yet not as a true man should love them; nor had he any love for doing well to other men at his own expense though he deemed all men good--that is good enough for his service. Truly he had many companions but never a friend saving his brother, who loved him as well as he could love anything and better than he loved aught else, and being a rich man gave him spending-money at will so long as he abode in his house, and set him awork doing what he could not easily spoil, and suffered him to make himself great in the house, and was fain to see him happy.

Such were the near kin of Desiderius who dwelt in the house with him, and he had neither brother nor sister.

Now on the afternoon of a day of early summer he sat in the court of his father's house, and that court was a fair and dainty place after the fashion of those days: a pillared square from the outside of which opened the doors of the chambers great and small, and in the midst of it a pool of clear water with a fountain which had been open to the air save for a gay-stained linen cloth hung over it with poles and cords. The floor was of marble wrought with a fair pattern of little squares of many colours, the pillars were of marble white and green with gilded chapiters, and on the wall of the court were painted pictures from the tales of the poets.

There then sat Desiderius, who had but that forenoon come back from an errand of his father's down the water, which had kept him three days from home: he had bathed and clad himself in fresh raiment since his return, and was now as fair-looking a rich young man as might be as he sat with the rumour of the city in his ears mingled with the cooing of the doves on the roof without. Yet his brows were knitted and his face overcast with the weary discontent of a young man of the rich who hath no toil to weary him and no hope to lighten toil, and who yet is not a fool to eat and drink and be merry without deeds. As he sat pondering with no mirth [316] in his heart of what the coming days should bring him, he heard footsteps coming from the outer court where dwelt the servants and thralls, and presently a man came under the pillars and made slowly towards him: he was a big man fat and white with no hair on his face, with large eyes like a calf's that told no tale of him, and soft rolling lips that told him to be a greedy man of money and a belly-god. He was clad in a scarlet coat laced with silver and broidered about his neck with the similitude of a thrall's chain: in his hand was an ebony staff ringed with silver and jewelled with blue mountain-stones: it was clear to be seen of him that he was a man who had lost his manhood, a eunuch. He was the chief thrall of Aurelian and the master of the thralls; a glutton as aforesaid. He was cruel when he was bidden to it, and his cruelty lay light on him for he put it all on his masters and had no will of his own in the matter, and when he squeezed others for his own gain he squeezed them not beyond measure, and was otherwise not an ill man, lying not more than behoves a thrall and a half-man. His name was [Felix] and Aurelian had great trust in him.

He came up to Desiderius and bent a knee before him and said, "Hail to our young master: the house is glad to have thee again." And he stood before him smiling as one who is not afraid. But Desiderius just nodded his head and looked at him without speaking. Then said the thrall, "May I speak or shall I go? " Said Desiderius, "Speak on unless thou hast something new to say in which case hold thy peace." The thrall's smile spread wider over his face and he said: "My lord thy father hath lent more money to the Prefectus of the city." "No news is that," said Desiderius. Said Felix, “We had tidings first that our soldiers have overcome a host of the barbarians, and next that these tidings are false and that they have been overcome." "That is no news," said the young man: "go on with my full leave." And his scorn wrinkled his face into a smile. Again said the thrall: "The dole of corn to the poor was [317] double last week, so rich hath the city grown." "Thou art rich in thy no news," said Desiderius. "Go on." Said Felix, "My lady thy mother hath sent her damsel Pulcheria away to the fieldhouse being weary of her." Desiderius said nought but sat up in his chair as one who throws off listlessness. Again quoth the thrall: "She hath bought her a new damsel, and hath bidden me hide from all the price she hath given for her, and I will do her bidding and thine also to tell thee no news.” He held his peace and Desiderius said nought but abode him awhile and he said: "Yet when my lady thy mother cometh from her chamber thou mightest cast a glance at her handmaids, and forget not that though thy father hath bought me and thy mother sendeth me on her errands, if I might give myself to any it would be to thee, my lord."

Desiderius looked on him thoughtfully for some while and then his face cleared and he said to him smiling: "Well what is thy last no news?" Said the thrall folding his hands across his breast, "That I need a gold piece or two, sweet lord."

Desiderius laughed and said, "That is the crown of thy no news: put forth thine hand and search my sleeve and as robbers are wont take what thou findest." And he held forth his left arm. Felix was not long in his search and drew forth a purse from its due lurking place and then cast himself down before the young man and fell to kissing his feet and the hem of his garment. "Nay nay, " said Desiderius, "go thy ways and count it: thou wilt be rich when I set thee free, for--" He broke off short and Felix rising up said with a chuckling laugh, "Say out thy thought, my lord; thou meanest that I have nought to cast away money on the great waster of money, to wit the fair woman. Yea, yea, I shall be rich." The smiles went out of Desiderius' face and he looked kindly on the thrall whose face darkened as he said in a low voice almost a whisper yet fervently withal: "My lord, thou art young and hitherto thou hast heeded this half-man but as a pander and a pimp: thou hast needed no trustiness, nor [318] belike would all thy riches have bought it if thou hadst. But as I said even now in jest, thou desiredst what I can give to thee that I will give: and may happen the time may come when thou wilt ask for trustiness and good service, and of all the people in this town thou wilt find it in this half-man, this woman-herd." And he bowed himself down lowly and so departed whence he had come.

Desiderius left alone sat in his chair listlessly awhile and then rose and walked up and down betwixt the pillars for a longer while, and then once more cast himself discontentedly in the chair again and gave a sigh as one ill-pleased both with himself and the world. But had not sat there long before one of the doors which gave into the hall opened and there came out a young and fair woman bare-armed and bare-footed, clad in a gown of light blue all spangled and broidered with gold which reached scantily to her ancles: she bore a chair in her arms silver-plated and gilded in places which she set down near the edge of the water. Desiderius scarce turned to note her; and then lay back again in his chair looking up at the sun-smitten awning, while there came out from the said chamber two more young women bearing great fans in their hands and then two others, one with divers toys in her hands, the other bearing a little white sharp-nosed dog with a gold collar round its neck; all these were clad as to fashion of their gowns like the first, but of divers colours, mostly pink and yellow flowered very fairly. After them came a grey-headed carline, thin and tall, clad in a long gown of Indian gold. All these stood in order about the silver chair, the old woman close to it. And then came forth a very comely and stately dame clad in a long sweeping gown of fine white linen with purple welt a handsbreadth wide going down each side from the shoulders to the hem. The dame was dark-eyed, black-haired, smooth-cheeked as a young woman; her lips like scarlet threads, her arms very full and fair: she was much like to Desiderius in the face, as was like to be, for indeed this was his mother of whom we have told.

She went proudly amidst the maidens, who were her [319] thralls, and sat down on the silver chair and reached out her hand to one of the damsels who gave her a golden pomace-box with some sponge of essence in it. The dame took it but as she did so chanced to look at the hand that gave it, and therewith sat up on her chair and took the damsel's hand by the wrist and held it out and looked at it and knit her brows and muttered: "This is no thrall's hand: I wish--" She stayed and dropped it and looked up at the woman who reddened not nor changed countenance in any wise, but stood like an image of stone so that the Dame's eyes fell before hers, and she smiled but somewhat sickly, and turning her face saw her son who had risen up to greet her. He bent his knee and took her hand and kissed it and she drew him to her and kissed his smooth cheek and patted it, and then one of the women brought his chair and set it beside hers and he sat down by her: and the weariness of thought faded from his face and he sat as one in all ease looking straight before him, and she smiled on him. since for a while she loved him as she had when he was but a youngling: and also there was none to take her thoughts from him. Then she turned to him a little and said: "Well, dear son, when didst thou come within doors again?"

“Two hours ago, Mother," he said.

She said: "I wonder why thy father must be ever sending thee on business that Tatian could do as well as thou; and he knows thy love of the city and my loneliness, how none come near me save him and his brother, now all is changed at the Castle." Desiderius smiled yet scarce happily and he said: "Nay, Mother, I am well content to get out of these walls, if it were but for a while; and I am fain of having an errand of some one else since I have none of mine own." "Poor boy," she said, "thou weariest of life already like I did when I was of thine age. I have borne enough of it since." And she sighed. But Desiderius said: "But I am nowise weary, Mother: or dost thou see wrinkles on my face?" She looked at him somewhat fondly as if she saw her own [320] face in a mirror, and said, "Nay Desiderius, so it is with me and my kindred that sorrow doth not trouble our faces or roughen our skins: we are of the race of kings though I have wedded a mere rich man." And she took his hand and fondled it, but he drew a little away from her and his face clouded. Then she said: "Did ye get the Indian onyxes down the water, and the Persian opals?" “Yea," he said, “and of the best they are." "And the book of plays," she said, "the African book?" "Yea," said he, “as well writ as maybe."

“Are they anigh?" said she. "In my chamber," he said and rose up to go thither. But even therewith came a man into the hall goodly of presence with a fair face and black hair and short beard: somewhat big-nosed he was, his eyes long but not wide opened, his lips full and loosely fashioned: he was clad in a watchet coat embroidered with gold and exceeding dainty: he had a staff in his hand with a golden apple to it--and this was Tatian his father's brother. He drew near to greet them and [Julia] looked on him smiling though as now she loved him little, and Desiderius nodded his head and reached his hand to him and hailed him and then made a step towards his chamber, but as he did so turned and saw Tatian look at [Julia] and her women as it he would be thought to let his eyes stray aimlessly amongst them, but yet fixing themselves at last. So Desiderius' were drawn whereas his kinsman looked, and even therewith he remembered the word of the eunuch about the new thrall, and his eyes met the eyes of the woman whose hand his mother had taken up; and therewith his heart sank and rose again and a pain which yet was sweet filled his whole soul, and he felt that his face burned as the blood rushed to his head, and he scarce knew where he was.

And as for her, at first she looked at him as she had looked at his mother and as if she would turn away in a moment of time; but suddenly her face grew troubled and she flushed red, and then paled, and put her hand to her bosom as if in pain, and still she looked at Desiderius. Then he heard someone speaking and like the breaking of a dream [321] saw his mother looking on him, a cold smile on her lips, her eyes scanning him curiously as she said, "Now son, thou mayest go fetch the jewels and the book; thine uncle will spare thee a while, though thou hast not seen him this long while." She spoke this with an evil smile: for she wotted well that no love was spilt between Desiderius and his uncle. But Desiderius started when she had spoken and turning swiftly on his heel went to his chamber and sought the jewels and the book like one in a dream and came back again at once; and when he came again amongst the pillars of the hall he saw that the young women-slaves were gone and his uncle also and his mother sat there alone with the nurse beside her. Desiderius turned pale and frowned and his mother smiled as if in answer to some thought within her: and he came up to her as one whose thoughts are elsewhere, and said listlessly, "Here are thy toys, Mother, so please you,” and so stood before her. She took the gems which were very goodly of their kind and laid the book beside her and made great joy of those matters, or seemed to, but yet looked up at Desiderius from time to time [as] if she would read something in his face, while he for his part stood there saying nothing and scarce seeing her. At last she took up the playbook, and turning over its leaves and looking down thereon said to him: "Thou hast done well for me; when art thou going down the water again?"

He enforced himself to answer and said, "I know not: my father will bid me." She said, "Thou saidst e'en now that thou wouldst be glad to go: art thou still of the same mind?" "Why not," he said," it was but within the hour that I said it," and he smiled faintly thinking in himself that much had happened in an hour. 

She spake in a while and said: "Young folk are fitful, son. But tell me are there women where thou goest or why art thou fain of leaving the city?" He looked at her with wide open eyes and said: "Women, Mother? yea surely how should it be otherwise?"

“O wise youth," she said, laughing in his face, "why wilt thou make thyself simple? thou knowest what my word [322] means. "Nay, Mother," he said," there are none for me.”

"Well well," she said, " I would not pry into thy secrets, but one thing I would counsel thee, buy thee a fair young thrall or two such as the chapmen keep lovely with much pains, rather than hang about paying court to some great woman, for whom thou mayst be slain or grievously beaten some day or who at the least will waste all thy good and send thee away empty at last."

"Mother," he said frowning, "thou art wrong, the deer is not in that bush." "Well well," she said, "a wilful man, a wilful man; it is well that thou art rich at least." She laughed aloud and her laugh sounded like the voice of the skillful player rippling up and down about the holes of the flute, and he laughed in turn and somewhat merrily, for he was pleased to think that she had not noted his eyes upon her new-bought thrall; and he said: "Less than love makes it pleasant for me down yonder, for near the river mouth I meet Julianus the son of Ammianus and his house is fair, but to us the sand-plain and the downs fairer: for there about we fly our falcons at the geese and mallard, and course the bustard over the long ridges of the down."

"Yea," said his mother, "that we believe: but fair is the huntress among the gods when she kilts her skirts and takes her bow in hand and such there may be with you. I grudge thee not dear lad so thou art happy. But lo! here cometh thy father." And therewith indeed came a man out of the inner chamber into the hall, a dark and goodly man much like to his brother, but brisker and more alert in his gait though he was shorter and burlier; the lines of his face better knit; his mouth firmer and more cleanly cut, his brow beetling more, his eyes keener: in short the master of the two brethren. He went up to Desiderius and embraced him and kissed his forehead and bade him welcome home; and Desiderius was fain of him for he loved him and there was much kindness between them.