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Updated: May 16, 2025
So when all three were mended firm and fast, being bound with iron, still the grimly river hurled over the dam, and the voice of Flumen muttered in the dark of winter nights, "Yet will I mar mar mar yet will I mar Mill and Maid." "Oho!" said Martimor, "this is a durable and dogged knave. Art thou feared of him Lirette?" "Not so," said she, "for thou art stronger.
The Intendant rose up, and holding a brimming glass in his hand, chanted in full, musical voice a favorite ditty of the day, as a ready mode of restoring harmony among the company: "'Amis! dans ma bouteille, Voila le vin de France! C'est le bon vin qui danse ici, C'est le bon vin qui danse. Gai lon la! Vive la lirette! Des Filettes Il y en aura! Vivent les Filettes!
So the knight in black and yellow, because he was heavier, drave Martimor backward step by step till he came to the crown of the bridge, and there fell grovelling. At this the Lady Beauvivante shrieked and wailed, but the damsel Lirette cried loudly, "Up! Martimor, strike again!"
And now what sayest thou of ladies?" "May a knight have his free will and choice here also?" said he. "According to his fortune," said Lancelot, "and by the lady's favour, he may." "Well, then," said Sir Martimor, taking Lirette by the hand, "this Maid is to me liefer to have and to wield as my wife than any dame or princess that is christened."
As he dreamed thus, suddenly he heard in the hall below a trampling of feet and a shouting, with the voice of Lirette crying and shrieking. With that he sprang out of his bed, and caught up his sword and dagger, leaping lightly and fiercely down the stair.
So Lirette rejoiced Sir Martimor and loved together during their life-days; and this is the end and the beginning of the Story of the Mill. It must have been near Sutherland's Pond that I lost the way. For there the deserted road which I had been following through the Highlands ran out upon a meadow all abloom with purple loose-strife and golden Saint-John's wort.
And going to his bed in a fair garret he dreamed of the Maid of the Mill, whose name was Lirette. How the Mill was in Danger and the Delay Endured In the morning Martimor lay late and thought large thoughts of his quest, and whither it might lead him, and to what honour it should bring him.
He was rather annoyed on this occasion, as he was working tremendously hard at the "Comedie Humaine," and at his "Petites Miseres de la Vie Conjugale," and the good nuns, who "thought the world turned only for themselves," told him that the ceremony would take place at one o'clock and would last an hour, whereas it was not over till four, and as he had to see Lirette afterwards, he could not get away till half-past five.
Yet More of the Mill, and of the Same Delay, also of the Maid Now at the end of the third month, which was November, Martimor made Lirette to understand that it was high time he should ride farther to follow his quest.
Then the Lady and the Maid wept full sore and made great dole and unlaced his helm; and Lirette cherished him tenderly to recover his life. So while they were thus busied and distressed, came Sir Lancelot with a great company of knights and squires riding for to rescue the princess.
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