Speaker 1: The tie at the moor Stone by Nigel Turner. The
boat was fastened and I clambered up the broken steps.
Their silence met me like a friend. No sounds were
to be heard, but measured lapping of water against the
stone lined banks, and the occasional cheap of a screech
bat I gained the terrace. Nowhere was a light visible.
The grange seemed filled with silence and darkness. Slowly I
wended up the long alley the beldum. That witch hag
weighed heavily upon my spirits, and a loathsome fear possessed me.
In daytime I had brooded over her address, and hell
got lear. Yet sunshine and fellowship of men, and ripened
wine had beclogged my apprehensions. Now, walking betwixt the high
dense hedges of box, where no sound was for the
thick turf as velvet sunk my footsteps, I was once
more affrighted. Twice had she crossed me, and two times
had evil fortune befallen. The galleon captured my brother slain,
Ye gad man, What of old wives prattle? Quoth I
to myself. Their gizzards are stuffed with ancient tails. Tush
a fig for the hag's rubbish did not bab may last,
Saint Agnes Eve tell her beads to my name, and
that even the too nay, nay, her malignanty cannot wantonnon me.
But ever and anon. As I paced up the silent,
fragrant ally, her words fell back again, and unwittingly I shuddered, God,
what courage was a constant companion? Yet a fright grew
and overwrought me. My bilbow fastened in a blown branch,
and I stooped to release it. A torturing scream broke
shrilly upon my ears, an oath, a scuffle, then silence.
In God's name, What's ado? I muttered, and sped up
to the terrace door. It was bolted. This threw me
all aback, for never before had it been so encountered.
Now I heard the west gates thrown open, creaking villainously
upon their hinges, A clatter of horses, hoofs, then no noise.
I ran swiftly round the terrace, leapt the small stream, and,
hastening up the steep, stood upon the margin of the moor.
But darkness of night and softness of verdure had swallowed
up both sight and sound. I turned into the courtyard
and hurried to the wicket gate by the ancient buttery.
It swung over to my touch, So speeding through the
smaller hole, I gained the great staircase. At the first turn,
I tripped over a sprawling body in a trice. I
was on it, and at the throat it was a
woman with nervous hands. I struck a light and beheld
the countenance of her handmaid, Mistress Marian. Cried I thickly,
what has happened? But she had been stunned by a
heavy blow, which yet left a thick red welt upon
her forehead. So in haste to ascertain the safety of
my beloved, I caught up the maid and rushed down
the long corridor. The door of Viola's room stood ajar.
I broke in, clamoring her name, but there came no response.
The chamber was empty. I flung down the woman, and
with trembling hands, lit the flambo by the tall mirror.
As the light filled the room, I noticed full disorder
on every side. Viola must have retired to rest. For
her garments, with many dainty frills and ravishments of white
lay flung aside, while the bedclothes were betossed. Hastily. I
threw water over the damsel's face and violently shook her.
Mistress Marian, I shouted loudly in her ear, where is
my lady? She opened her eyes, her lips moved, but
I heard no sound. Bending down, I caught the low moan,
my lord, the tie at the mow stone, Sir Jasper,
and the goodly maid fell a faint. Again, This is
the devil's ploy, thought I suddenly the heart within me.
Now I knew of a certain that an evil eye
had been cast upon us. My feet seemed rooted to
the oaken floor. Action was wanting in all my members.
I stood as a stucco doll. Me seemed an age passed,
and no sounds heard, but the sough of the wind
through the blighted pines, and the dismal hoot of a
ranging owl. It was strange. Fragrance of Jessamine still lingered
in the room, as it was at even when last
we sat in Love's sweet bower. This perturbed my senses
with dear recollections, and as a lout, struck dumb with
fears indefinite, with bitter grief, tearing at my heart strings. Heedlessly,
I loitered, then recurred that bodeful wording seeker by the
mols stone when no time is and cursing my tardiness,
I hastened from the chamber. As I fled along the dark,
re echoing corridors, A mighty blast of wind drave into
the house, swirling and screeching through the many passages. Then
fell a great silence all around, and my heart pat
exceedingly within me. For I on this night did evil
fortune befall. From one a babe would be reft, ne'er
to be seen again. From another, a fair virgin would
be ravished to be discovered. Next morn, lying afield, babbling
and disfigured. Oft times, a wedded wench would be lifted
from beside her slumbering bridegroom, And next morn, at the
waking hour, a dead corpse chilled his living blood. All
this crushed into my head, as unwitting of the way,
I traversed the outer hall. Its porch stood open, and
I marveled thereat. Neither in my life nor in my
father's had this been For time had so rusted and
encrusted the iron bratticed halls of the great door that
nigh A scoursome of strong men could scarce accomplish the
opening thereof. But now it gaped to the thickening darkness.
I gained the heath. All was still behind me lay
the grange, buried in the gathering night beyond the moorstone.
I plunged impetuously forward, scudding up the rising grounds like
a leverett before pursuit. Now arose all my grandam had told.
This was the eve of Witchery's highest revelry, the thirtieth
of April. A great offering was brought this night to
the moorstone around hearthstones at eventide, it was whispered the
evil One himself came and feasted. But no mortal had
ever seen and told. Had not my father been found
two score years ago on the first of May, lying
in deathly stupor nigh to the moorstone, his body naked
and livid, with impress of great taloned fingers all over,
And never again had his voice greeted the ear. My
eager feet sank in a bog and tardily I set
them down again, lest I be pitted and drawn in
by the quickening morass. There was no noise but the
swishle of reeds against my body. As I bent on
now and again a moor hen or what a rat was, startled,
and I heard it scuttle from me. Ever and anon
elusive lights shimmered out in the distance to tell of
mortals lured to destruction by malicious goblins. And I gathered
in my mind how that travelers crossing between Murk and
morning had been lost, luckless whites snared into depthless morasses.
I broke out into a speedier pace and prayed the
saints for a stout heart. Haply stumbling into a narrow
westerly track, I gained courage with firm ground beneath me.
My God, I groaned to think of my love in
their hellish tricks. The blood thickened at that very thought.
As I sped up to the waste land, my brain
pieced together the case. The heart was with my mistress, Yester.
Even as she lay in my arms, a cold shiver
chilled her gentle frame, and breath failed for the space
of a lamb's bleat. As life pulsed back, she clung
her tender soft body to mine, and knew the quickening
beat of her heart was felt, and sweet caresses calm
to the terrified spirit. She wist not the cause, but
subtle love caught upon the reason. An evil eye had
rested upon her and thralled ay, And by Sir Jasper
had it been cast. May God smother him in his
own slime. I muttered thickly, and sped the faster onwards.
At last the dreary highlands were reached. No knowledge had
I whereby to gain the center, where lay the moor stone,
within the circle of stone pillars gathered by heathenish hands.
I was all uncertain of it. Neither moon nor your
stars broke the sullen darkness, No stir was in the air.
All in a clap out of the blackness. To my
right came a shrill cry of help, Help. Then the
silence was broken by shrieks of a tortured being borne
far into the night. They beat upon my ear full
of a dread terror, and I stood rooted to the spot.
Suddenly the air rang with a faint echo of Jeffrey Geoffrey.
The vague sound died away, and I heard nought but
the pit pat of my bosom, Now a harsh hurtling
noise passed overhead, an echo of discordant laughter and gibberish talk.
Even now, where the devilish gang are loose, Already some
luckless wight had they fastened upon and done to death.
For this hellish brood was my mistress to be sacrificed.
A mighty wrath flowed up within me, and I pressed
on fiercely. Hell's dawn broke red behind a ridge. Some
small deer drove rapidly past me. My limbs slackened as
timorously I clambered up, muttering a pater noster. The top
was reached. The sight therefrom terrified me by reason of fear.
My body shook before the druid circle, wherein lay the
stone sat a horrid being of evil growth, possessing the
voice of man. Around him, red columns of fire belched forth,
beclouding the air with Hell's vapors. Far back, until enveloped
with the mists of night. Grinned myriads of babbering skulls,
ancient witches and wizards again to renew the past. On
a sudden the earth trembled, and I fell, quaking upon
the salts. Methinks I had lain there in stupor a
goodly time. As when breath crept back, the space before
me was covered with crawling, flickering flames, and numberless voices
filled the air with hoarse revelry. My heart gave a
great bound, but the blood clotted within its runs. For
bound to the moor, stone lay violer. I sank on
the turf, riven with unutterable agony. No prayer issued from
trembling lips. Indeed my head was blank. Then thoughts slowly
shaped themselves. Tradition hath it that every volpurgis eve, the
evil one demands the pure soul of maidenhood thereafter to
woo it to destruction. So Sir Jasper, maddened at my felicity,
had outrun all humanity of God and man. His base
malignity roused my beclotted blood, and I cursed him. Nay,
I could but die beside her and bulk his devilish intent.
And I started up. But I was borne upon the
grass by an overmastering hand that stiffening all flesh, turned
my body into stone. I lay prostrate, speechless and mightily afraid. Verily,
man is but a beast of the fields. When the
spirits of evil and of darkness do stalk abroad. A
voice sounded from among the crawling flames. As it receded
from the circling witchery and drew nigh unto the evil one.
It died away into a long, drawn sob. The person
of a male appeared amongst the many wavering fires. With
bowed head and low, crouching body. He adored. Then, with
indistinct voice, he proffered the offering. Great clouds of smoke
gathered above as a roof. All sound died away into
a deadened silence, and human utterance issued from the pillar
of fire that, slowly filling the circle, enwrapped the evil growth.
It is good, it said, and the soul of the
maid is without stain. Yet their up spake a voice
in reverent accents, Almighty Master, we cast a spell upon her,
for she cried on her lover to save. So the
bane was recalled. Yet the recumbent figure lay motionless. Forthwith
there arose a mighty clamoring of many tongues, crying, Am
mortali is with us. The harsh, unhallowed outcry filled the air,
and curling flames, shooting out their long tongues sprang upon
me from the surface of the earth. My breath hardened,
my pulse throbbed. Not meseemed, I was and was not
scant knowledge had I that Hell's crowd surged upon me,
and surged back again. Baffled again, they thronged around, endeavoring
to devour me, But I was unharmed. Hideous forms filled
the air. Griffins with hurtling wings and monstrous faces swarmed above,
darkening the dim light. Huge embodiments of winged snakes swelled
up and spitting at me, raged impotently with hellish spleen. Suddenly,
like a base chimera, the unholy crew went not before
me but the lurid round of flame and the motionless
body of my love. Yet on all sides, great bodied creatures,
mingling with gigantic, wavering shadows, noiselessly massed themselves. In the
heavens above, and upon the face of the sleeping lands
afar and surrounding, the forces of Hell were arranging. My
heart went from me. I lay heaped upon the ground.
Now the blast of a mighty hurricane wind was to
be heard. Then, speeding nearer and nearer, Many things tossed
by me, Yea, the evil one would snatch at me.
As that thistle down borne on the gusty breeze. A
speck of gold flashed in the red gloomed air. Another
and another. Then a multitude of small birds with golden
plumage and whitened breasts broke over the body of my love,
settling thereon until she was a mass of wavering gold.
The wind caught me. The grim countenance of night blanched
before the uncoming morn, gray dawn peered upon the mist
swaved hills. I awoke, starting to my feet. I gazed
with surprise at my strange bed quarters, twas deuced odd
to fall asleep upon the moor. Suddenly the wild fantasy
of midnight clappered upon my brain, and I shivered at
mere thought of it. A scurrying breeze tore asunder the
seething rack. In a hollow at my feet, between the
parting shreds, was revealed a body upon the moor stone.
I attained the spot with frantic speed, catching hold of
the massive slabs, I drew up my cramped figure. Before
my eyes lay Viola, and upon her swarthy tresses floated
one small, golden plume. Through the monstrous enactment of evil,
God had preserved her in the hollow of his hand.
Valpurgis Eve eighteen ninety six and of the Tie at
the Moorstone by Nigel Turner