There entering in,they found the goodman selfe Full busylie unto his work ybent,Who was to weet a wretched wearish elf,With hollow eyes and rawbone cheeks forspent,As if he had been long in prison pent.THE FAERY QUEENE.
Are we far from the dwelling of this smith,my pretty lad?said Tressilian to his young guide.
How is it you call me?said the boy,looking askew at him with his sharp,grey eyes.
I call you my pretty lad--is there any offence in that,my boy?No;but were you with my grandam and Dominie Holiday,you might sing chorus to the old song of 'We three Tom-fools be.'And why so,my little man?said Tressilian.
Because,answered the ugly urchin,you are the only three ever called me pretty lad.Now my grandam does it because she is parcel blind by age,and whole blind by kindred;and my master,the poor Dominie,does it to curry favour,and have the fullest platter of furmity and the warmest seat by the fire.But what you call me pretty lad for,you know best yourself.Thou art a sharp wag at least,if not a pretty one.But what do thy playfellows call thee?Hobgoblin,answered the boy readily;but for all that,I would rather have my own ugly viznomy than any of their jolter-heads,that have no more brains in them than a brick-bat.Then you fear not this smith whom you are going to see?Me fear him!answered the boy.If he were the devil folk think him,I would not fear him;but though there is something queer about him,he's no more a devil than you are,and that's what I would not tell to every one.And why do you tell it to me,then,my boy?said Tressilian.
Because you are another guess gentleman than those we see here every day,replied ****ie;and though I am as ugly as sin,Iwould not have you think me an ass,especially as I may have a boon to ask of you one day.And what is that,my lad,whom I must not call pretty?replied Tressilian.
Oh,if I were to ask it just now,said the boy,you would deny it me;but I will wait till we meet at court.At court,Richard!are you bound for court?said Tressilian.
Ay,ay,that's just like the rest of them,replied the boy.Iwarrant me,you think,what should such an ill-favoured,scrambling urchin do at court?But let Richard Sludge alone;Ihave not been cock of the roost here for nothing.I will make sharp wit mend foul feature.But what will your grandam say,and your tutor,Dominie Holiday?E'en what they like,replied ****ie;the one has her chickens to reckon,and the other has his boys to whip.I would have given them the candle to hold long since,and shown this trumpery hamlet a fair pair of heels,but that Dominie promises I should go with him to bear share in the next pageant he is to set forth,and they say there are to be great revels shortly.And whereabouts are they to be held,my little friend?said Tressilian.
Oh,at some castle far in the north,answered his guide--a world's breadth from Berkshire.But our old Dominie holds that they cannot go forward without him;and it may be he is right,for he has put in order many a fair pageant.He is not half the fool you would take him for,when he gets to work he understands;and so he can spout verses like a play-actor,when,God wot,if you set him to steal a goose's egg,he would be drubbed by the gander.And you are to play a part in his next show?said Tressilian,somewhat interested by the boy's boldness of conversation and shrewd estimate of character.
In faith,said Richard Sludge,in answer,he hath so promised me;and if he break his word,it will be the worse for him,for let me take the bit between my teeth,and turn my head downhill,and I will shake him off with a fall that may harm his bones.
And I should not like much to hurt him neither,said he,for the tiresome old fool has painfully laboured to teach me all he could.But enough of that--here are we at Wayland Smith's forge-door.
You jest,my little friend,said Tressilian;here is nothing but a bare moor,and that ring of stones,with a great one in the midst,like a Cornish barrow.Ay,and that great flat stone in the midst,which lies across the top of these uprights,said the boy,is Wayland Smith's counter,that you must tell down your money upon.What do you mean by such folly?said the traveller,beginning to be angry with the boy,and vexed with himself for having trusted such a hare-brained guide.
Why,said ****ie,with a grin,you must tie your horse to that upright stone that has the ring in't,and then you must whistle three times,and lay me down your silver groat on that other flat stone,walk out of the circle,sit down on the west side of that little thicket of bushes,and take heed you look neither to right nor to left for ten minutes,or so long as you shall hear the hammer clink,and whenever it ceases,say your prayers for the space you could tell a hundred--or count over a hundred,which will do as well--and then come into the circle;you will find your money gone and your horse shod.My money gone to a certainty!said Tressilian;but as for the rest--Hark ye,my lad,I am not your school-master,but if you play off your waggery on me,I will take a part of his task off his hands,and punish you to purpose.Ay,when you catch me!said the boy;and presently took to his heels across the heath,with a velocity which baffled every attempt of Tressilian to overtake him,loaded as he was with his heavy boots.Nor was it the least provoking part of the urchin's conduct,that he did not exert his utmost speed,like one who finds himself in danger,or who is frightened,but preserved just such a rate as to encourage Tressilian to continue the chase,and then darted away from him with the swiftness of the wind,when his pursuer supposed he had nearly run him down,doubling at the same time,and winding,so as always to keep near the place from which he started.
