For there was set a bier, covered with gold and pall, and on it was
laid a tall man, a king, belted and crowned; and beside the said
bier, by the head of the king, knelt a queen of exceeding goodly
body, clad all in raiment of pearl and bawdekin; and her hands were
clasped together, and her mouth was drawn, and her brow knit with the
anguish of her grief. But athwart the king's breast lay a naked
sword all bloody; and this Birdalone noted, that whereas the lady was
of skin and hue as if she were alive, the king was yellow as wax, and
his cheeks were shrunken, and his eyes had been closed by the wakers
of the dead.
Long Birdalone looked and wondered; and now if her fear were less,
her sorrow was more for all that folk sitting there dead in their
ancient state and pomp. And was not the thought clean out of her
head, that yet they might awake and challenge her, and that she might
be made one of that silent company. Withal she felt her head
beginning to fail her, and she feared that she might swoon again and
never waken more, but lie for ever beside that image of the dead
king.
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