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Updated: June 1, 2025
They teare their clothes, they shut vp the churche dores, they haunte no place of wonte commune concourse, they omytte all solempne holy daies: and girding them selues vnder the pappes with brode Ribbond of Sarsenet, two or thre hundred on a company, men and women together, renewe euery daye twise, thre skore and xii. daies together, the buriall bewailing, casting dirte on their heades, and singing in rithme the vertue of the Kinge.
Haunte withdrew the shutter entirely, and the boat gathered full speed. "You say that navigation among the mountains is difficult at night," exclaimed Maskull. "I would have thought it impossible." Haunte grunted. "You will have to take risks, and think yourself fortunate if you come off with nothing worse than a cracked skull.
There were tusks, horns, and bones everywhere. Resting against the wall were two short hunting spears, having beautiful crystal heads. Haunte set down the two male stones on the ground, near the farther door; their light illuminated the whole cave. He then walked over to the meat and, snatching a large piece, began to gnaw it ravenously. "Are we invited to the feast?" asked Maskull.
Haunte laughed loudly. "Sullenbode." "You mean it will end in my seeking Sullenbode?" "But what will come of it, Maskull? What will she give you? Sweet, fainting, white-armed, feminine voluptuousness?" Maskull coolly drank another cup. "And why should she give all that to a passerby?" "Well, as a matter of fact, she hasn't it to give.
Maskull made no comment, but grabbed it with his fist and tugged it away from its fastenings to the ground. Haunte looked at the skin, and then stared hard at Maskull with his disagreeable smile, but neither said anything. The place in which they found themselves was a large oblong cavern, with walls, floor, and ceiling of natural rock.
Maskull thought all the while of nothing but the overwhelming sweetness he had just experienced. The flat ground on top was dry and springy. There was no more snow, and bright plants appeared. Haunte turned sharply to the left. "This must be under the cap," said Maskull. "It is; and within five minutes you will see Sullenbode."
Maskull took Corpang's arm, and constrained him to silence. "Where have you been hunting, Haunte?" "Matterplay. I had the worst luck I speared one wold horse, and there it lies." "What is Lichstorm like?" "There are men there, and there are women there, but there are no men-women, as with you." "What do you call men-women?" "Persons of mixed sex, like yourself. In Lichstorm the sexes are pure."
"Where men are called to women by pain, and not pleasure." "I intend to understand, before I've finished." "Yes," answered Haunte, with a taunting look, "it would be a pity to let the chance slip, since you're going to Lichstorm." It was now Corpang's turn to take Maskull by the arm. "This journey will end badly." "Why so?" "Your goal was Muspel a short while ago; now it is women."
It would be one big mass of heavy sweetness, without individual shapes." "Yet this same sweetness is torturing to men?" "The life of an absolute male is fierce. An excess of life is dangerous to the body. How can it be anything else than torturing?" Corpang now sat up suddenly, and addressed Haunte. "I remind you of your promise to tell about Muspel." Haunte regarded him with a malevolent smile.
You seem to have been hunting to some purpose, so we won't lack for food." Haunte eyed him quizzically. "You certainly don't lack impudence. However, I'm a man of that sort myself, and it is the sort I prefer. Your friend, now, would probably rather starve than ask a meal of a stranger. He looks to me just like a bewildered toad dragged up out of a dark hole."
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