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This day the Chieftain's pride Shall join the song, the dance, the feast, And bear away a bride. III. "'He cometh not! the father cried, Smiting with spear the wall; 'And yet he sent the ghostly man, Yestre'en before the fall! IV. "'He cometh not! the mother said, A tear stood in her eye; 'He cometh not, I dread, I dread, And yet I know not why.
Eric groaned aloud, and Swanhild turned at the sound. But he sprang away and stood over her, cursing her. "Thou witch!" he cried, "what hast thou done? What didst thou mix in that cup yestre'en? Thou hast brought me to this that I have betrayed Atli, my friend Atli, thy lord, who left thee in my keeping!"
I should quickly be indicted, I ween; for a Lollard, an' I stayed. Master Carew told me yestre'en, that there were spies hereabouts, and he did trow he was suspected. And if they take him, they will come next to me." "Richard! Richard!" cried Dame Lovell. "Thou frightest me, lad! But wilt thou go, soothly? I wis not how to leave thee do so."
Then, pointing with his blade: "See where he hath carved letters four," he continued. "Wi' love-links, too. A watched un yestre'en, whiles the play was forward. A do but carve a heart wi' an arrow in't." She blushed suddenly, wondering if it were Guy who had done this. Stepping to the side of the stable-boy, she examined the post. The letters were in pairs. They were M. B. and G. F.
"And Mr Liversedge, I suppose, is the real mahogany?" "He is sae: and he's a gey awkward way of seeing ahint thae bits o' veneered stuff, and finding out they're no worth the money. And they dinna like him onie better for 't." "But I hope he does not make a mistake the other way, Sam, and take the real thing for the veneer?" "You trust him for that. He was no born yestre'en.
"Yestre'en my love with slaughter menaced me, * But sweet were slaughter and Death's foreordained: Yes, Death is sweet for lover doomed to bear * Long life, rejected, injured and constrained: By Allah! deign to visit friendless friend! * Thy thrall am I and like a thrall I'm chained: Mercy, O lady mine, for loving thee! * Who loveth noble soul should be assained."
And this is the word that Otter yestre'en hath set in my mouth; Seek thou the trail of the Aliens of the Cities of the South, And thou shalt find it leading o'er the heaths to the beechen-wood, And thence to the stony places where the foxes find their food; And thence to the tangled thicket where the folkway cleaves it through, To the eastern edge of Mid-mark where the Bearings deal and do."
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