The Forest Lovers

But Prosper would not have it.

"Nay, by God and His Christ, but we are one soul by now!" he cried.

"The year of agony for her, the year of schooling for me, is past. God

has upheld my arm, and her heart is mine. But I beg of you, Alice,

prevail upon the priest to give us his God and ours. For though we

have been wedded by a Churchman, we have not been wedded by the

Church."

"The father shall do it," said Alice. "Fear nothing."

There were two scruples in the good man's way. If he said Mass twice

in the morning he broke the law of the Church; if he put off his

breakfast, he broke that of nature, which bids a man fill when he is

empty. And the priest was a law-abiding man. In the end, however, the

bride and bridegroom had their marriage-mass. Kneeling on the mossy

stone they received the Sop. Alice of the Hermitage brought two crowns

of briony leaves and scarlet berries; so Morgraunt anointed what

Morgraunt had set apart; the postulants were adept. Afterwards, when

the priest had gone and all things were accomplished, Alice of the

Hermitage kissed a sister and a brother; and then very happily they

broke their bread sitting in the sun.

"Whither now, my lord?" asked Isoult when they had done.

"Ah, to High March, pardieu!" Prosper said; "there is a little work

left for me there. You shall go in as a queen this time. Clothe her as

a queen, Alice, and let us be off."

Alice took her away to be dressed in the red silk robe; she drew on

the silk stockings, the red slippers. Then she went to tire her hair.

"Stay," said Isoult, "and tell me something first."

"What is it, dearest?"

"My hair, how far does it reach by now?"

"Oh! it is a mantle to you, a dusky veil, falling to your knees."

"Now bind it up for me, Alice; it has run to its tether."

The glossy tower was roped with sequins, the bride was ready. Alice

adored her.

"Come and meet the bridegroom," said she.

Prosper watched them coming over the sunny plat. He was not lettered,

yet he should have heard the whisper of the Amorist--"Behold, thou

art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair, thou hast dove's eyes."

At least he bowed his knee before her. She could have answered him

then--"I am as a wall, and my breasts like towers; then was I in

his eyes as one that found favour."

"Good-bye, my sister Desirée," said Alice of the Hermitage. Tears and

kisses met and answered each other.

"Surely now, surely here is love enough!" she cried as they rode away.

For my part, I am disposed to agree with her. But Prosper found her

glorious.