But this was not for Mark, and she said little
To Mark of more than must in ceremony
Be said, perforce, fearing him to misread
Her deprecating pity for his birthright
For the first meltings of renunciation,
Where there was none to melt.—“If I’m so fair,
Why then was all this comely merchandise
Not sold as colts are, in a market-place,”
She asked herself. “Then Tristram could have bought me,
Whether he feared my love was hate or not,
And whether or not he killed my uncle Morhaus.”
And there were days when she would make Brangwaine
Go over the bridge and into the woods with her
To cheer her while she thought.—“If I were Queen
In this forsaken land,” Brangwaine said once,
“I’d give three bags of gold to three strong men,
And let them sew King Mark into a sack,
And let them sink him into the dark sea
On a dark night, and Andred after him.
So doing, I’d welcome Erebus, and so leave
This world a better place.”—“If you sew Andred
Into a sack, I’ll do the rest myself,
And give you more than your three bags of gold,”
To Mark of more than must in ceremony
Be said, perforce, fearing him to misread
Her deprecating pity for his birthright
For the first meltings of renunciation,
Where there was none to melt.—“If I’m so fair,
Why then was all this comely merchandise
Not sold as colts are, in a market-place,”
She asked herself. “Then Tristram could have bought me,
Whether he feared my love was hate or not,
And whether or not he killed my uncle Morhaus.”
And there were days when she would make Brangwaine
Go over the bridge and into the woods with her
To cheer her while she thought.—“If I were Queen
In this forsaken land,” Brangwaine said once,
“I’d give three bags of gold to three strong men,
And let them sew King Mark into a sack,
And let them sink him into the dark sea
On a dark night, and Andred after him.
So doing, I’d welcome Erebus, and so leave
This world a better place.”—“If you sew Andred
Into a sack, I’ll do the rest myself,
And give you more than your three bags of gold,”
[ 124 ]
